#living on the island alongside him and he warns you to keep away from the rocks because of the tide and (more importantly) what lies below | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

risriswrites · 2 years

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Just Roommates

summary: a series of moments between bradley bradshaw and his roommate that prove they're a little more than "just roommates"

pairing: roommate x bradley bradshaw, fem reader

warnings: none, just some mild language and lots of fluff

author's note: this is my second fic and i just wanted to say thank you all for the love on the first one! it made my heart happy :) likes, comments, and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated!

word count: 9.1k

“Okay but hear me out. What if we painted the living room wall a pale green?” you question, gesturing to the beige wall directly across from you with a spoon, that was once being used for your bowl of cereal; which had been discarded five minutes prior in favor of the sudden inspiration to revamp the living room.

Tilting your head to the side you allow your eyes to wander the length of the wall before adding, “Not like a pastel green but more like a sage green. I think it’d compliment the couch…and the wood floors.”

Bradley was leaning in the doorframe of the hallway that led to your separate bedrooms, arms crossed over themselves and letting his eyes trail over the way you’ve perched yourself onto the granite kitchen island, one leg crossed over the other.

It was a Saturday morning, so it didn’t surprise him that you’d foregone pants and settled on an oversized t-shirt, really short shorts, and fuzzy socks. You always complained about how you couldn’t sleep if it was too hot, so he made sure to keep the thermostat at a comfortable 70 degrees, but as soon as you woke up, you’d be freezing and needed socks to keep your feet warm. He’d never understand it.

Dragging his eyes away from you he lazily glanced at the wall of the living room. Honestly, he was fine with the way it was, but he wasn’t an interior decorator, so his opinion didn’t really count for anything in the name of “design”.

“I don’t think it really matters” he shrugs, letting his eyes wander back over to you. Your hair was still a little messy from sleeping, but in way he found oddly, cute.

A huff slips past your lips as you slide off the counter and move to wash the bowl you’d been using, “Bradley, the apartment could use a little bit of color. It’s kind of bland in here,” you grimace, sparing him a quick glance before resuming your assault on the navy-blue bowl.

Sighing, Bradley pushes himself off the doorframe in favor of moving to the granite island you’d been sitting on a few moments ago, “Well, you pay for half of the apartment, so whatever you think will make the place look decent that’s up to you.”

“That’s not how decisions work between roommates, Bradley. We have to both agree with it,” you mutter.

Shaking your head you force a breath out, “Look, we can talk about it later if you want, it’s not a big deal. We can always meet in the middle and bring in a plant or something instead? You keep the neutrality of the apartment, and I can have some greenery to look at.” you negotiate, all while wiping your hands on the hand towel hanging across the bar of the oven, shooting him an awkward smile, doing your best to not glance at his naked chest.

He forces his own smile back at you and nods his head the tiniest bit to let you know he’d think about it.

With that conversation ending you decide to leave Bradley to his thoughts in favor of snuggling into the couch for some warmth and an excuse to binge watch “The Witcher”.

You and Bradley had been living together for a little over a month, having been introduced to each other through your friend Jamie.

Jamie was a landing signal officer for the navy that you had met while you were in college. He was just getting his associates degree to pass the time while he worked on achieving all of the necessary credentials to start training in the navy, and once he graduated, was stationed out in Miramar. He had worked alongside Bradley during a few different missions and had kept in contact with him over the past few years. The two were close enough that Bradley valued Jamie’s feedback and opinion, so when Bradley came to him with his roommate dilemma, he knew the perfect person to recommend.

Based on your first meeting alone you liked Bradley. He was well mannered, reserved, and yet, still had a certain rugged charm to him. And now you were here, laying on the gray couch you had convinced Bradley would look perfect in the small living space, snuggled under a knitted blanket from your grandma, as Bradley fixed himself a cup of coffee.

“I’m going to go out for a run in ten minutes, do you need anything while I’m out?” Bradley called out to you.

You tilted your head back to look at him from the throw pillow you were currently laying on, “No thanks I’m good,” you smiled, quickly turning back to your show, successfully avoiding gawking at your roommate as he maneuvered around your shared kitchen.

Ten minutes came and went, and you never heard Bradley leave the house. Crinkling your eyebrows, you sit up from your spot on the couch and peer back into the kitchen to check if Bradley had snuck out without you noticing. Only to see him sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, one arm leaning on the long piece of granite and the other holding his coffee mug in his hand, casually sipping at the hot beverage while his eyes were glued to the tv screen.

A smirk grows on your lips, “Going for a run, huh?”

Bradley’s gaze breaks from the tv screen and snaps to you, his eyebrows pinching together as he shoots you a playful glare, mumbling into his mug, “I’m about to leave.”

“Sure, you are” you snort.

Silence ensues as you continue to smirk at him and he glares at you, before finally he breaks.

“Alright fine,” he huffs, “One episode, and then I’m going for a run.”

You turn back to the tv with a knowing smile on your face before getting comfortable under your blanket again.

Bradley stays put at the kitchen island for the next episode, but once you’ve started the second, he’s gravitated to sitting on the arm of the couch.

You glance over at him every now and then, smirk growing larger with every minute he continues to sit and not leave to go for his run, too enraptured in the show currently playing on your shared tv screen.

Grasping the remote in your hand you pause the show, turning you head and quirking an eyebrow at him, “Soo…still going for that run?”

Bradley huffs and throws his head back groaning, “I need to.”

You stay in your position allowing yourself to let your gaze roll over the scars that litter his neck and along his cheek. Seeing the war waging on in his brain you decide to make it easy for him, “How about you go on that run, and I’ll just pause it until you get back? It’s on Netflix so it’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” You smile.

Bradley turns to face you, moving his arms behind him to rest on the couch, further exposing his naked chest, “You sure? I don’t wanna make you wait to finish the episode.”

You push aside any thoughts about how hot he looks right now and instead focus on his honey brown eyes, letting your smile turn into an easy smirk, “I’ll be okay Bradshaw, I’m a big girl I can wait one hour for you to finish your run.”

Bradley raises an eyebrow while leaning towards you a little bit, letting his tongue poke out to swipe across his lips before he fixes you with a sarcastic smile of his own, “Sweetheart, it’s cute you think that it’s gonna take me that longto go on a three-mile run.”

And with that statement being put out in the air, he’s moving off the couch and heading towards the door, passing the water bottle he set out earlier.

Momentarily dazed from his proximity, you regain your train of thought and call after him, “Have fun show off!”

“Don’t start that episode until I get back sweetheart!” he yells, pointing a finger back in your direction, letting the door swing closed behind him.

A snort escapes you as you take to scrolling through your phone, waiting for Bradley to come back.

And exactly twenty minutes after you last saw him; not that you were counting, Bradley strolls back inside, a sheen of sweet glistening from his chest and abs as he strides towards the water sitting on the island.

Having looked up at his arrival, you quickly force yourself to look back down, cursing under your breath at how heaven sent he looks right now.

As Bradley is unscrewing the cap from his water bottle, he glances towards you propped up on the couch scrolling through the many apps you have on your phone before he slides his gaze to the tv, smiling to himself when he sees that you’ve kept your promise in keeping the show paused.

Allowing himself a few gulps of water, he sets the bottle back on the island and turns his attention back to you, “You mind keeping it paused for a little longer? I need a shower.”

You keep your eyes glued to your phone screen, “Don’t need to ask Bradshaw, I’d rather not have you tainting our clean couch with your sweat.” You snicker, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

He just shakes his head and smiles as he sets off towards the bathroom.

Another ten short minutes had passed before Bradley saunters back into your shared living space freshly showered and wearing a pair of gray sweatpants.

You stare for all of five seconds before becoming conscious of what you’re doing and move to grab the remote that’s been lying dormant on the side table for the past thirty-five minutes, eager to distract yourself from allowing him to take up any further space in your mind.

Bradley, however, has other plans and is picking your legs up off the couch and maneuvering himself under them in order to sit, bringing them back down and settling them in his lap, unknowingly regaining your attention.

Said attention being specifically on his right hand that is currently resting on top of your left leg, allowing a warmth to settle where his hand is, and traveling up through the rest of your body, a flush no doubt currently on your cheeks. Giving your head a small shake, you press play on the remote before forcing yourself to relax into the throw pillow and focus on Geralt arguing with Jaskier.

He's your roommate.

You’re very attractive roommate, but your roommate, nevertheless. And reminding yourself of that fact helps you stay focused on the show before the two of you part ways a few hours later.

He’s your roommate. Nothing’s going to happen.

“Pretty sure this is the kinda injury you go to the hospital for, Bradshaw. Not your very unqualified roommate and a first aid kit” You grimace.

Bradley was currently sitting on the toilet seat of your shared bathroom; after what you can imagine was another interesting night at the hard deck, in his typical white tank and Hawaiian button-down combo while you stood in between his jean clad legs, attempting to control the bleeding above his eyebrow.

“I’m serious you might need stitches,” you grunt, grabbing some more gauze and pushing it against the laceration.

Bradley snorts, “I wouldn’t say you’re completely unqualified if you’re gonna stand there and say I need stitches.”

You roll your eyes at the statement and resist the urge to smack him, “Anyone with half a brain can deduce that you need stitches, doesn’t take someone with a degree to know that.”

“So, you’re saying you’re perfect for the job, since you don’t need a degree? That’s perfect, thanks sweetheart,” comes the reply of a grinning Bradley.

A huff escapes past your lips as you mutter out, “You’re impossible”.

Your eyes examine the items from the first-aid kit that are currently scattered across the countertop, landing on a small box that says, “butterfly wound closures”. You light up at your luck before ordering Bradley to keep pressure on the gauze you’ve been holding as you move to get the much-needed bandages.

Once you’ve grabbed two or three bandages from the box, you push Bradley’s hand off the gauze and slowly peel it back to check on the bleeding. Luckily, it’s stopped now, and you can focus on closing the wound.

Grabbing a square packet with the words, “alcohol pad” on it, you rip open the packaging and take out the small piece of moist fabric, before sucking in a breath. Just knowing how much this could burn against Bradley’s wound has you wincing and hesitating to clean the area around it. “This might sting a little if I get to close, so try to stay still” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady as you start wiping around the wound. “How’d this happen anyway?” you question, attempting to distract him from any pain he might be feeling.

Bradley watches your face as you begin to wipe away at the dried blood above his eyebrow, nose scrunched, eyebrows pinched, and eyes focused on his wound. It’s endearing, how seriously you’re taking this.

“Some guy kept bothering Phoenix, she can usually handle guys like that on her own, but this one just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I stepped in to help escort him out of the hard deck with Hangman when the guy swung on me. It’s not a big deal.” He sighed.

You forced out a chuckle at his response, “I wouldn’t say that. Not when you’re coming home with blood rushing down your face”.

Bradley clocked the skip in his heart at the word “home” coming from your lips.

Ignoring that thought he rasped out, “Yeah well, better me than Phoenix. Plus, he definitely looks worse than me, I can guarantee you that, sweetheart.”

And just when you were about to retort back, you made the mistake of brushing the alcohol pad too close to his open wound.

Bradley’s eyes instantly force themselves shut, reaching out to grip your legs as he inhales sharply.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry Bradley” you apologize, moving your hands to hold his head in place. And before you even register what you’re doing you’re blowing air on his wound, applying the same knowledge you have with the reaction between small cuts and hand sanitizer to this scenario.

Bradley slowly let out the breath he’d been holding, muttering out an, “It’s fine sweets,” allowing his body to relax again.

Discarding the alcohol wipe, you quickly grab the bandages you set out, unwrapping them at a swift pace before moving to place them one by one over Bradley’s cut. Gingerly, you smooth your thumb over the last bandage, securing it in place on Bradley’s sun-kissed skin.

“Okay” you let out a breath, “You’re all set to be a hero again” you smile softly. “Don’t get into the habit of getting into fights with drunk men.” You warned, moving your right hand to squeeze his shoulder.

Bradley’s eyes flutter open meeting your soft gaze, and he can’t help but to let one side of his mouth quirk up into a smirk, “I make no promises sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes at his confession you take a step back from him, forcing his hands to drop from your thighs, “You think you can manage putting everything back in the first-aid kit, show off? Or do you need my help with that too?” you smirk.

Bradley scoffs, pushing himself off the toilet to tower above you, “I got it,” he jests, light blue Hawaiian shirt swaying at the speed he moved from the toilet.

With the smirk still playing on your lips you back out of the bathroom, rounding the corner completely before calling out to him, “good to know you’re not completely helpless, Bradshaw!”

It’s been almost a year since you and Bradley started living together and somehow, he’s managed to supply endless excuses as to why dagger squad wasn’t able to meet his roommate. No one was more frustrated about the lack of an introduction than Phoenix, as Bradley’s closest friend she was a little pissed and mildly offended at the realization.

So, after some choice words between Phoenix and Bradley and the occasional nagging from Hangman, Bradley folded and told the duo that he’d talk to you about inviting them over for dinner.

Dragging his feet, Bradley opened the door to your shared apartment, taking in the smell of the lavender essential oil you had diffusing in the entryway.

Bradley faintly remembers you educating him on the effectiveness of essential oils when it comes to mental and physical health, and how lavender was best for promoting sleep and relaxation. Something you learned from your “stress management” class in college. It’s funny how that knowledge has him instantly relaxing once he’s stepped into the apartment; or maybe it was just knowing you occupied the same space as him.

“Honey I’m home!” Bradley calls out, tone light and playful.

He rounds the corner to see you propped up on the couch, book in your lap as you glance up at his loud and flashy entrance.

Quirking a brow at the flight suit currently tied around his waist, you watch him move one arm above his head to lean against the doorway, black fitted tee straining as he makes himself comfortable. You shoot him a playful smile, “Have a good day, sweetheart?”

Bradley lets a smirk grace his lips as he watches you, “I’ve had better.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention downwards towards the book in your lap, “Well there’s always tomorrow” you reasoned.

Bradley allows himself to take in your appearance, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watches a strand of hair fall in your face. He decides then and there that the matching green sports bra and spandex shorts set is his new favorite outfit that you own and there’s definitely gotta be some rule about inappropriate thoughts about your roommate that he’s ninety-nine percent sure he’s breaking.

Breaking his gaze from you he moves to the kitchen, focusing on fixing himself a glass of water when he remembers Phoenix’s words from earlier.

Meandering around the kitchen for a few more seconds he decides to just throw it out there.

“Hey sweetheart, are you okay with a few members from my squad coming by the apartment?”

Hearing his voice echoing through the kitchen into the living room, you allow his words to sit for a second, letting them mull over in your head until you decide to answer him with a, “why not? The more the merrier,” and glance back down to continue reading the murder mystery you’d been attempting to finish for the past few days.

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding; Bradley smiles softly at your focused expression before grabbing his phone and shooting a group text to Phoenix and Hangman to let them know they could swing by later this week.

Only putting his phone down when he got a thumbs up from Hangman, and an enthused text from Nat telling him to send the details when he can, allowing himself to refocus back onto the girl currently sat on the gray couch, with an impressive number of throw pillows surrounding her, and a book he’s never heard of before in her hands.

Smiling quietly to himself, he runs a hand through his curls and decides to head to the bathroom to shower, already hearing you in his mind telling him how you don’t want the smell of jet fuel on the couch.

Once he’s finished, he throws on an old Navy tee and gray sweatpants, heading back into the living room to try and persuade you to put down your book and watch a few episodes of “The Witcher” with him instead.

Maneuvering himself around the coffee table and onto the couch, he quickly grabs your legs and props them onto his lap and shoots you a wide smile.

Peering over the top of your book you fix your gaze on his honey-brown irises and quirk an eyebrow at his disruptive actions.

Bradley nods his head to the tv in a silent question, and you hide the growing smile on your face behind the book you’ve had your nose in for the better part of the last few hours. “Bradshaw, can’t you see I’m reading?” you challenged, quirking an eyebrow up at the man sitting in front of you, puppy-dog eyes on full display.

He nods, “I see that, and I raise you with a much more interesting proposition.”

Lowering your book just a tad, you tilt your head to the side and scoff, “Oh really, and what might that be?”

Bradley bites his bottom lip before shooting you a dazzling smile, “You, me, and at least three episodes of ‘The Witcher’, accompanied by pizza and wings, if you’re into that kinda thing?”

You hum at his idea and look up in thought, biting the bottom of your own lip in the process, “I don’t know Bradshaw, this book is really starting to get good, and I’ve been wanting to finish it for like, a week now” you exaggerate.

He gives you ten seconds, and then he’s reaching across the couch to swipe the book from your hands tossing it behind him, earning a surprised shriek from you.

“What book?” he smiles again, beaming from ear to ear.

Not able to contain your own smile, you let out a soft laugh, “Go order the pizza, show off.”

Bradley stands, sending you a mock salute as he makes his way to his phone.

“Oh! And I want a Hawaiian pizza Bradshaw!” you call out.

Bradley scrunches his face in disgust at the thought of pineapple on pizza, turning back to you phone now up to his ear as he waits for the line to connect, “Still can’t believe you like pineapple on pizza, it’s a crime.”

“It’s really not!”

Pushing yourself up onto the arm of the couch, you bring your knees to sit underneath you, using your hands for emphasis as you argue the point of how perfect the sweetness of the pineapple compliments the saltiness of the pizza, and all Bradley can do is roll his eyes and smile at how enthusiastic you are. And despite him not agreeing with you, he orders the pizza for you anyway. Moving back to his spot on the couch once he’s placed the order and grabs ahold of your left leg, massaging it as you continue to rant about the different universally accepted sweet and salty combinations.

Once the pizza has been delivered, the two of you spread the small feast across the coffee table, as you start the second season of “The Witcher”.

Every now and then Bradley will make a small comment that makes you laugh, distracting you long enough that you’d have to rewind the show every few minutes to make sure you caught everything. And Bradley would just smile in return, taking pleasure in knowing that he’s the one making you laugh.

Once the pair of you have gotten through the third episode, you exit out of the Netflix app and turn the tv off, and before you can make a move from the couch, Bradley brings up the topic of his friends again and you tell him Friday at six should be good for you.

Sending him a small smile you slide your legs out of his grip and stand from the couch, bringing the leftover pizza with you and placing it in the fridge, Bradley close behind you with the wings. Once everything is put away, the two of you exchange “goodnights” and part ways to your separate rooms, lingering looks, and fond smiles left in the shadows of the dark.

Two Days Later

Friday comes quickly, work having been overwhelming and taking up most of your limited time. The time you normally are reading or hanging out with Bradley is almost nonexistent.

Once you’ve made it back to the apartment you make a beeline for the bathroom to wash off the day. Letting yourself linger under the hot water long after you completed your routine, forcing yourself to turn the water off, step out of the shower, and dry off.

Remembering that Bradley invited his friends to come by tonight, you curse under your breath, wrapping the towel around your body and swinging the bathroom door open, stepping out into the hallway, only to crash into a hard chest.

“Shit” you mumble, scrambling backwards towards the bathroom.

Looking up you make eye contact with Bradley, who’s sporting his black tee and flight suit attire from his day working at the naval base. Gulping you tighten the towel around your body, squeaking out a “sorry” as you try to look past his eyes towards your bedroom door.

Bradley ignores the urge to look down past your eyes, willing himself to think of anything other than your naked body, and shuffles back a few steps to let you past.

You take that as your opportunity to scurry to your room in an attempt at avoiding any more awkward moments for the night. Deciding to throw your thoughts into what outfit you’re going to wear instead of the recent interaction between you and Bradley. Coming up with jean shorts, a white t-shirt, and white socks, you give yourself a onceover in your floor-length mirror and nod at your reflection, leaving the safe space of your room to wander around the kitchen.

Since you and Bradley had ordered pizza earlier on this week, you take it upon yourself to order takeout from the local Chinese restaurant. Not having been able to go out and grab groceries to prepare for tonight’s dinner, ordering Chinese seemed better than ordering pizza for a second time.

The bathroom door opening signals to you that Bradley’s finished showering, almost like a warning of his inevitable presence.

Busying yourself with tidying up the living room, you don’t notice him walk out of the hallway, too focused on how to lay your grandma’s knitted throw blanket over the couch.

Bradley lets out a breath, closing his eyes and wills himself to forget about your moment in the hallway, instead choosing to put his shoes in a more orderly fashion by the front door, and switching the diffuser on as he passes it, the smell of lavender quickly flooding his senses and bringing him back to thoughts that all involve you in nothing but a towel.

Shaking his head, he forces the image of your wide eyes, wet hair, and glowing skin from his mind and moves back to the kitchen to unload the dishwasher.

You finally take notice of him and send him a shy smile. He sends you one back and breaks the silence by asking about your day at work.

Thankful for the distraction, the awkward tension dissipates and the two of you fall into easy conversation until three sharp knocks come from the door.

Looking to Bradley he sends a reassuring smile your way before going to answer the door. The sound of two voices arguing back and forth hit your ears and you instantly smile and let out a small laugh at the loud, “Bagman I swear, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to sew it shut with the next toothpick I can find.”

Composing yourself quickly, you tuck a stray hair behind your ear while you sit at the kitchen island, only standing when a woman with shoulder-length black hair and chocolate brown eyes, moves around the corner.

Once Phoenix makes eye contact with you, she’s instantly grinning and coming closer to give you a polite hug, introducing herself with her callsign and then her name, telling you to call her by whichever, and settles in on the barstool next to yours.

A blond with perfectly styled hair and a smug smirk follows shortly after Phoenix and quickly scans you from head to toe, smirk deepening (if that’s even possible), Bradley right behind him with a sheepish smile on his face as he looks towards you.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” the blond drawls, he’s a little short compared to Bradley and you take note of his southern drawl, Texan maybe?

Eyes flitting from Bradley back to the blond, you let a sarcastic smile settle on your lips and hum, leaning your arm onto the counter, hand forming a fist as you rest your chin, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bagman, isn’t it?”

Nat snuffs out a laugh, hiding her smile behind her hand as she looks at you.

“Hangman, actually.”

“That’s not what I heard,” you retort back, smile staying stationary on your lips, challenging him.

“Oh, I like you,” Nat grins. “I like her” she states, turning to give Bradley a pointed look.

Hangman breaks the stare down choosing to look towards Bradley instead, “I like her too.”

Rolling your eyes at the statement you also turn to Bradley, tongue coming out to swipe across your bottom lip as you point a finger towards Hangman, “I can learn to tolerate him.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle moving to grab a set of beers from the fridge huffing out an, “We all do that, Sweets” the room erupting into laughter at the expense of Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

Somehow over the course of the night you and Nat had made your way over to the couch, her sipping on a Heineken and you on a coke, leaving the boys to their own devices in the kitchen.

“So, how long did you say you’ve been roommates again?” Hangman questioned, nodding over to you, toying with the perspiration sweating off his beer bottle.

Bradley brings his beer up to his lips slowly, “About a year now, were good friends” taking a sip after he answers.

Jake hums, “And how long have you been lying to yourself about that second part?”

Bradley whips his head towards Jake, eyebrows pinching at his suggestion, “What?”

Huffing Jake turns his attention from the couch where both you and Natasha have started gossiping about some picture on your phone, back to Bradley, “Bradshaw, when’s the last time you went on a date with a girl, or even hooked up with one?”

Jake is met with silence from the naval aviator, and takes a sip from his beer, “That’s my point. You like her man.”

Bradley leans on the countertop, eyes focusing on the way your eyes light up at something Phoenix says, your giggles filling the space of your shared apartment and making him suppress a fond smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, we’re just roommates, Bagman.”

Jake watches Bradley watching you, a knowing smile breaking his smug façade, then he moves to sip at his beer, glancing back over to you and Nat, “Whatever you say Bradshaw.”

From the way the wind and rain were whipping against the windows of your apartment, you’d think you were dealing with a stage three hurricane, but according to the weatherman it was just a bad storm. Maybe someone should double check his certification.

Every few minutes thunder would rumble, ricocheting off your apartment complex, shaking the building, and sending you into another gathering frenzy. Moving around the apartment in a flurry, you grab the collection of candles you’ve been hoarding and any lighters you can find.

In your rush, you don’t hear Bradley enter the apartment, too busy with collecting all of the necessary items.

Bradley smiles as you pass by him, oversized tee flowing behind you, socks making you skid on the hardwood floors of your apartment as you spread the abundance of candles throughout the living space.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek escapes your lips, narrowly avoiding dropping three candles as you recompose yourself, straightening your back you let out an exasperated breath. Placing the remaining candles down onto the side table you huff, “What does it look like I’m doing?” You turn to face Bradley, who looks like he’s soaked from head to toe; he must’ve left his flight suit at the base today since he’s sporting just a black tee and his workout shorts, “I’m preparing for our inevitable demise.” You exaggerate.

Bradley chuckles at your dramatic opinion of the weather, “I don’t think fifty candles are gonna help us sweetheart.”

You give him a reprimanding look, groaning as you say, “No but they’ll help with our vision whenever the power goes out. And some of us, are afraid of the dark.”

Bradley’s smile softens at your admission and angles himself toward the foyer table, reaching into one of the drawers and pulling out the flashlight you’d been looking for. Turning to you and giving it a little wave in an effort to make you feel better.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, “I’ve been looking for that everywhere.”

Giving the flashlight a light toss, Bradley chuckles, “And looking in all the wrong spots apparently.”

Another round of thunder rattles the apartment, making you jump, eyes flashing with fear for a moment. Bradley raises his eyebrows at your reaction and sets the flashlight on the kitchen island.

“You okay?”

You turn to him, giving a small nod, “Yeah, I’m fine. Storms don’t normally bother me but this one just feels like it’s closer to a hurricane than a regular storm.”

Bradley nods at your statement, “You gonna be okay if I take a quick shower?”

Throwing your hand up nonchalantly, you wave him off, “I’ll be fine, probably gonna light a few candles and start a new book.”

His eyes wander the expansion of your face, looking for any cracks in your calm and collected façade you’re putting up. Not finding any, he rationalizes that he’ll only be gone for ten minutes tops, and can coax you into cozying up on the couch to watch another episode of “The Witcher” once he’s finished.

Shooting a reassuring smile your way he side steps out of your way to head to the shower, “I’ll be out shortly sweetheart!”

Shaking your head, you force yourself to move again throughout the apartment, huffing as you grab a case of water and set it on the island.

Standing at the entryway to your home you play with a strand of hair nervously, studying the progress you’ve made throughout the space, giving a decisive nod of approval, before heading off to your room to pick a book and grab a few extra blankets to set on the couch.

The wind has picked up even more now, making the patter of rain on the window hit with a force you thought for sure resembled hail. Shivering at the thought, you clutch your collection of blankets closer to your body and make your way back out to the living room, throwing yourself down on the couch and cuddling into your favorite throw pillow, snuggling under the blankets.

Another loud boom of thunder rattles your building, making you let out a soft whimper in response, snuggling further into the couch for comfort. In an effort to calm yourself down you reach across the cushions to grab the pink book peeking out from the collection of blankets, totally abandoned in your haste to hide from the thunder.

You thumb through the first few pages until you see the intricate curvature of the words “Chapter One” typed at the top of the page and immediately immerse yourself into another world of fiction. And within five minutes, you’ve completely forgotten about the raging storm outside, the sharp beating of the rain on the window turning into a dull thumping as your eyes scan the pages in front of you.

Bradley curses to himself at the amount of time he’s spent in the shower, quickly stepping out and drying himself off, throwing on a white tee and his favorite gray sweatpants. Hanging his towel back on his hook, he swiftly opens the door and takes long strides to the living room, reaching his hand around the hallway entrance and poking his head out to see where you’ve scurried off to.

Momentarily panicking when he doesn’t pinpoint your exact location, until his eyes zone in on your blanketed figure on the couch. A grin splits his lips, and he bites the bottom one to contain his chuckle, you’re reading that new book you were talking about, but the way you’ve huddled into the blankets reminds him of the alien from E.T. all wrapped up with only your head being visible.

Sidling up to the frame of the hallway he folds his arms over his chest, shaking his head as he calls out your name. Actually, letting out a chuckle this time when you don’t acknowledge him.

“You good over there, sweetheart?” he tries again.

This time you do look up, and his heart clenches at the sight of your wide eyes, “Shit! I’m sorry Bradley, how long have you been trying to get my attention?”

“Not long sweets, don’t worry about it.” He juts his chin towards the tv, “What do you think about a few episodes of ‘The Witcher’?”

Glancing down at your book you think about it for a second, it was starting to get interesting but you could never say no to Bradley or “Geralt of Rivia”. So you smile and push the blanket off of your head, “You know,” you clicked your tongue, “I’m starting to think you like this show way more than I do.”

Bradley scoffs, “Definitely not, I’m only suggesting it because there’s nothing else worthy of watching on that godforsaken streaming service.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “just admit it Bradshaw.”

And just as Bradley opens his mouth to give you some smart retort back, a loud crack echoes throughout the room, and the power flickers off. You suppress a scream and instead resort to a quiet whimper.

“Shit sweetheart, are you okay?” Bradley calls.

You bite down on your lower lip and close your eyes to avoid looking into the void of darkness that’s encompassed your apartment, “Not really,” you breathe out.

Bradley goes quiet for a second, trying to make the moment lighthearted in an attempt to make you feel better, “All those candles and you didn’t light any of them huh?”

An offended scoff that closely resembles a whine leaves your lips, “Seriously Bradley.”

“Hey, I’m just pointing out the obvious, sweets” Bradley teases.

“At least I thought about this happening and got us prepared,” you sputter out. “Some of us were too busy washing their mustache to care” you sneer, eyes still screwed tightly shut.

Bradley pinches his eyebrows, “Hey now, no hating on the stache.”

“Bradley I can’t see anything and it’s really loud so I’m sorry, but the feelings of your mustache are not on my list of priorities right now” You huff.

“Okay well then how about we try to find the lighter so we can actually see in here?”

“Fantastic idea Bradshaw, best one you’ve had all night,” your tone exaggerated, moving your hands to aid in pushing yourself up from the couch.

Letting out a puff of air, Bradley ignores your comment and starts using his hand to navigate through the living room, hoping he’s getting close to the couch, bumping his knee into what he thinks is the side table, letting out a low groan.

“You okay over there, showoff?” you call out, taking a few tentative steps forward.

“Yeah,” he grunts, “I’m fine.”

You nod your head in understanding and mumble out a quiet, “Okay, good.”

Bradley moves forward again, maneuvering around what he thinks is the coffee table. He can hear your shaky breaths so he’s almost a hundred percent sure he’s a few steps away from the couch.

Growing a little bolder you take two steps forward, which proves fatal as you end up tripping over what felt like a shoe, forcing you to stumble forward in an attempt to catch your footing, throwing your hands out to avoid crashing into anything, only for them to land on Bradley’s warm and hard chest.

Not quite balanced yet, you stumble forward a bit more, Bradley grabbing your wrist in hopes to help steady you, pulling you closer to him in the process.

You haven’t been able to see since the power went out, but having him this close allows you to see the outline of his face and the sparkle of his eyes, your breath hitches in your throat at your proximity and it all becomes overwhelmingly intimate.

Looking away from his profile into the darkness, you momentarily forget about the fear of the storm and instead are distracted by the very muscular, very attractive man; that is your roommate, currently holding you.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Bradley whispers.

Closing your eyes, you turn your head and force a shaky breath out from your lips, “Yeah, just tripped over a shoe or something.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He mumbles, voice a little raspier than normal.

Shit.

Your eyes shoot open, your head tilting back to face him, “If you’re referring to the fact that it’s darker than a black hole in here right now, then no, I’m not okay, I would really appreciate at least one of those candles being lit right about now.”

Another roll of thunder crashes into your living room, echoing along the walls and through your chest, making you press further into Bradley’s firm hold.

Closing your eyes again you huff, “I’m sorry.”

Bradley moves the hand that doesn’t have a grip on your wrist around your back, tugging you into his warm embrace, “You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart,” he reassures, resting his chin on top of your head as he speaks.

You sigh, allowing yourself just for a moment, to enjoy how close he is right now. Just roommates you remind yourself.

“I swear I’m not usually this bad with them,” you mumble against his chest, referring to the raging storm outside.

Bradley’s chuckle rumbles through his chest, nodding his head in understanding, “Where do you think that lighter is right about now?”

“I have no idea, maybe on the island? That’s where I put the majority of stuff.” You mumble, placing your hands flat against him to aid in inching yourself away from his chest.

Bradley hums, keeping a firm grip on your wrist as he steps back slowly towards the kitchen, pulling you with him. “Okay,” he nods, “Lets focus on getting the flashlight and then the lighter. That sound okay with you?”

Feeling the way his thumb is rubbing small circles into your skin, you whisper out a “Yeah,” gulping down your nerves that are so frazzled you’re not sure if it’s from the storm, or from how tender he’s being.

Taking a few more short steps; with Bradley leading the way, the two of you eventually make it to the kitchen island. Bradley letting your hand go in favor of roaming his over the countertop, blindly searching for the flashlight while you focus on finding the lighter. After what seems like hours, Bradley announces his accomplishment and flicks the button on the metal piece of the flashlight, a beam of light hitting your pupils making you flinch and close your eyes. Bradley cursed under his breath in apology, moving the light down towards the countertop in search of the lighter, allowing you to reopen your eyes and get accustomed to the new source of light.

Eyes scanning over your pile of necessities, you spot the lighter peeking out from behind one of the candles.

“Found it,” you sigh in relief.

Bradley’s eyes pan over to you from where he’s standing, watching as you reach past an emerald, green candle that has a picture of the woods wrapped around it; the words “sandalwood” in some typewriter font scribbled at the top, and pull the lighter out of the dark and into the beam of light coming from the flashlight.

Meeting Bradley’s eyes you shoot him a soft smile, giving the lighter a little wave, “Lets light these candles.”

A soft chuckle rumbles through Bradley’s chest while he shakes his head in amusement, “Leave it to you to make a ‘The Boys’ reference.”

You smile, turning away from him as you grab the same emerald, green candle that he was just looking at, clicking the lighter on and pushing it against the wick, “It’s not my fault okay, there’s some great one-liners in there. I just so happen to be capable of altering it to fit our scenario.”

The sky rumbles shortly after your statement and has you kicking into gear, setting the newly lit candle back down onto the island and moving swiftly throughout the apartment, lighting as many candles as you can to brighten up the room, but also not enough to be a fire hazard.

Lighting the last cream-colored candle by the couch, you straighten up and turn towards the room to look at your handiwork, Bradley standing next to you doing the same as he clicks the flashlight off. A soft yellow glow has settled in different areas of the living room and kitchen, the areas surrounding it darker, the further away you get from the candles. “I think that’s good enough.” You murmur, arms crossing over themselves while you scan the space.

Bradley hums in approval, moving an arm around your shoulder and tugging you closer to him.

“What do you wanna do now sweetheart?” Bradley’s voice is soft as he asks his question, allowing his thumb to rub small circles onto your deltoid. It’s comforting.

Allowing your guard to slip, you lean further into his body, turning your head up to look at him, whispering, “Can you sit with me on the couch while I read?” Eyes flickering towards the darkness of your room before returning to his gaze, “I just don’t want to be by myself right now.” You mumble.

And for what feels like the millionth time in the past year, Bradley’s heart skips at your confession, his mouth wanting to grin at just how cute you are and pull you into his chest. Instead, however, he settles for a soft smile and a, “Anything for you sweetheart.”

Gripping your shoulder tighter, he pulls you back towards the comfort of the couch making himself comfortable as he settles into the cushions, allowing you to leave his embrace to grab your book. But once you try to sit back at the opposite end of the couch, Bradley immediately grips your wrist and tugs you back to him.

“You’re gonna end up here anyway, sweetheart, just sit with me.” He rasps out, his warm breath hitting your ear, making you shiver.

Not trusting your words, you hum in response, letting him guide you back into his chest, propping your knees up to rest your book on them as you open it, conveniently landing on the page you had last read.

Somewhere in your brain a little voice was screaming at you that this isn’t what normal roommates do, getting a little louder once Bradley hooked his left arm around your waist, but an even louder voice was telling you just to enjoy it while you could. And in the end, what did it matter anyway? You were going to read and the two of you would part ways once the power came back on to your respective beds and everything would go back to normal. So, what’s the harm in lying here with him now?

The thunder was still rolling outside along with the sharp gusts of wind, but now that you were reading in Bradley’s arms you honestly couldn’t hear it anymore. And what felt like a few short minutes, turned into three hours, your eyes growing heavy, almost dropping the book on your face once you started to nod off.

Becoming mildly alert, you shift your body upwards to set your book on the coffee table, turning to tell Bradley you were going to bed, only to see him peacefully sleeping with his head tilted back onto the throw pillow, right arm flexed behind to support his head as he slept.

Smiling softly to yourself you shake your head and move to get up to go sleep in your bed, only to be anchored down by Bradley’s arm.

Frowning, you grab his hand with yours and begin to try and peel it away from you, Bradley’s grip only growing tighter and successfully pulling you back against him, your hand promptly landing on his chest to avoid faceplanting into it.

Just when you were about to make a second attempt Bradley’s raspy voice rings loud in your ears, “Stop trying to leave me.” He grumbles. Eyes still closed he brings his second arm around your back and pulls you tight against his chest, “Just stay.”

Biting your bottom lip at his drowsy statement, you try to pull your body away from him again, his arms only squeezing tighter around you. “Bradshaw, I need to go to bed,” you huff. Bradley pushes his body further down the couch, keeping you in place as he makes himself comfortable, “Sleep here” he mumbles.

Jesus Christ he’s gonna put you in an early grave.

You allow your eyes to examine his face, the way that his eyelashes touch the tops of his cheeks, sweeping over the tiny freckles littering his face, and stopping at the curve of his lips. Goddamnit. Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut, you can’t do this.

“Bradley” you whisper, voice shaky as you break your gaze from his face and focus on the flickering candlelight, “I really can’t sleep here.”

This pulls him from his drowsy state almost instantaneously and has him fluttering his eyes open, blinking a few times to bring his gaze into focus.

His thumb has a mind of its own it seems, since you feel it push under the fabric of your t-shirt and rub your skin in small circular motions, biting your bottom lip to refrain from doing anything rash, a small “Bradley,” slips past your lips, tone warning.

He doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he brings his other hand up to your face and forces your gaze back to him. It’s quiet as the two of you stare at each other, blood rushing in your ears over the silence that’s only broken by the distant roar of thunder.

Sighing, you start to move your body backwards to put some distance between the two of you, “Bradley, I need to go to- “, your sentence is cut off by Bradley, who’s pulled you down and collided his lips with your own. Your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of his lips on yours, a moment passing before you understand what’s happening and push your lips against his.

The hand that Bradley has resting against your cheek pulls you further against him, fingers curling around the nape of your neck to keep you close, as you melt into the kiss, his lips caressing yours, mustache tickling your upper lip as they slot together over and over again, until you pull away to catch your breath.

Your eyes flutter open, reconnecting with Bradley’s. His honey-brown eyes have a certain glow behind them as he takes you in, leaning forward to recapture your lips with his own, “Stay.”

Closing your eyes again, you push your lips against his, letting them linger there for a moment before you lean back, and whisper out a breathy, “Okay.”

A soft, adoring smile pulls at Bradley’s lips, giving his head a short nod as he leans the two of you back, settling himself into the couch cushions while you pull your grandma’s knitted blanket off the back of the couch and over the two of you. Nuzzling yourself into his neck, placing a few chaste kisses along the scars that have made homage there. Slipping your hand under his white t-shirt while you mutter, “Just so you know,” another kiss, “I will be milking the fuck out of this.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle, kissing the top of your head briefly before closing his eyes, “Wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.”

Two Weeks Later

Nat and Jake had come over again for another dinner night. This time, you chose to make dinner, a simple “lasagna roll-up” recipe you found on pinterest that has never failed you when it came to impressing guests.

Bradley and Jake were sitting at the kitchen island, mulling over the salad Bradley had just finished tossing while Jake gave him “pointers”, occasionally stealing glances at the two women sitting on the couch, deep in gossip.

Every now and then you’d look over and send Bradley a soft smile, until Natasha grabbed your attention with another story of the shenanigans that had taken place earlier on base. Jake watching the love-sick expression on Bradley’s face, and stewing in the knowledge that Bradley Bradshaw had it bad for you; just like Jake had told him he was several weeks ago.

“Took you long enough Bradshaw,” Jake poked, bringing the beer he’d been holding up to his lips and taking a sip, smirk prominent on his face.

Bradley spared Jake a glance before returning his attention back to you, clicking his tongue, “When are you gonna tell Phoenix how you feel, Seresin?”

Jake’s eyes flicked to Nat’s figure currently relaxing on the gray couch, not giving anything away, keeping his expression in his traditional cocky smirk, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Rooster.” Taking another sip of his beer, Jake moves his body off the stool and towards the living room, sitting himself down ungracefully next to Nat, her throwing an irritated look at him.

Rooster suppresses a chuckle at his teammates and shakes his head before moving himself to sit next to you, easing his arm around your shoulder, you relaxing into his embrace immediately.

Jake leans onto the arm of couch, permanent smirk etched onto his lips, “Okay I gotta know. What got you hooked on our very own ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw?”

Nat smacks Jake’s wrist and immediately reprimands him with an annoyed “and this is why we only tolerate you, Bagman” while you sit there, a blushing mess, as Bradley rubbed small circles into your shoulder.

You mull it over in your head for a second while Nat continues to reprimand Jake before you speak up, “Honestly?”

Everyone goes quiet at your consideration of Jake’s question, apart from Jake who lets his famous smirk return to his face, “I’d love to hear the honest answer.”

You look up at the ceiling briefly, cheeks flushing as you mumble, “Definitely the mustache.”

The room immediately erupts into laughter, Jake and Nat rushing out questions at a million miles a second, while you cover your face in embarrassment.

Bradley just chuckles to himself and pulls your face into his side, kissing the top of your head, emphasizing the rub of his mustache against your forehead, making you burrow further into his side.

“Just Roommates my ass!”

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #topgun maverick #topgun fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagines

3K notes · View notes

straykidsftw · 4 days

Text

Daddy Daycare | dad!bang chan

genre: fluff

summary: chan looking after his kids for the first time as 4

ages: joey = 8 / leo & dan = 6 / jemima = 2 months

warnings: none (purposeful use of lower case cause i cant be bothered with capitalisation anymore)

______________

“are you sure you’re going to be okay?” you asked, cupping chan’s face in your hand, his sleepy eyes blinking back at you; the time on the clock too early for him to properly register the words you were saying.

you were leaving for a weekend away with the other skz wives, all flying over to jeju island, as paid for by your husbands. and that meant leaving early to make it to the airport (so you could make the most of your time).

chan swatted your hand away, making a ‘pshh’ noise, “it’s fine, y/n. i’ve been a dad for 6 years, i think i know what it takes.”

“yes but you’ve never looked after four kids, chan. i’m telling you, it’s a level up,” you pleaded with him.

chan rubbed his eyes before getting out of bed, placing his hands on your shoulders and walking you to the door of your shared bedroom. “y/n, please. i know what i’m signing up for, i know our kids. now go, have fun, and stop worrying.”

you smiled, turning round and hooking your arms around his neck, chan’s hands holding onto your waist firmly as you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“okay, go,” he mumbled into the kiss, “you’re gonna be late.”

“okay,” you smiled, getting your bag and beginning to walk down the stairs, waving to chan as you went, “bye kids!”

the kids, who chan hadn’t known were awake, all responded with choruses of goodbyes from their respective rooms, chan’s eyes widening at all four of his kids being awake at 5:30.

“oh god,” he grumbled, hearing jemima’s cries start up as the front door slammed behind you.

he walked into the nursery, now forever jemima’s room, to see his little girl stood up in her crib, gripping at the bars and bouncing up and down slightly, laughing happily now that she’d gained someone’s attention.

“hello princess!” chan cooed, running over and pulling her out of the crib, cradling her in his arms, pressing kisses all over her face, “oh my little girl, how did you sleep? hmm?! hmm?!”

jemima’s screaming laughter bounced off the walls, chan chuckling alongside her as he got her out of her pyjamas and put her on the potty. potty training was almost done, but jemima still had to be put on the toilet routinely, in case she forgot to ask.

“good morning dad!” joey yelled, chan barely seeing a flash as he ran out of his room and down the stairs.

“woah! woah! woah!” chan called after him, trying to keep an eye on jemima at the same time. he could hear banging and crashing happening downstairs, wincing every time another loud noise echoed.

“i done daddy!” jemima smiled up at him, chan grinning and bringing her off the potty, cleaning her up and putting her in a fresh set of clothes, before carrying her downstairs. “i don’t need carry, daddy! i walk!”

“okay, okay,” chan laughed, placing her on the ground, jemima immediately starting to run to her older brother, who was still zipping around the kitchen. “woah, woah. joey, bud, please. what’s happening?”

“i’m making something!” joey exclaimed, gathering bits from all over the kitchen up into his arms before beginning to make his way back upstairs, chan catching him before he could.

“hey, hey. i could really do with your help today, buddy. do you think you could continue this project at the dinner table? then we can both keep an eye on your sister as i make breakfast, hmm?”

joey smiled with the big brother responsibilities, nodding firmly, “i just– i– i need a few bits from upstairs, okay?! i’m coming back!”

“okay,” chan laughed, peering into the living room to find jemima perched happily on the sofa, her mop of curls a mess atop her head. “mima, do you want some milk?”

jemima looked at him and nodded with sharp motions of her head. chan smiled, nodding back before heading to the kitchen to prepare some formula in a bottle. as he stood against the counter, stirring the bottle sleepily, he suddenly felt a rush of air as someone ran past him again.

“joey!” chan stopped, looking at his twins running round the back garden. “huh, not joey.”

“i’m here dad!” joey exclaimed, his grin displaying a couple of lost teeth, as he sat at the dining table and continued his arts and crafts project.

“yo! leo! dan! come here,” chan called, standing at the back door, “what’s happening here?”

“we’re pirates, dad!” leo yelled, shoving his pretend sword up at his dad, “argh!”

chan played along, pretending to be afraid as he backed off, going back to jemima’s formula. the little girl in question now stood by the dining table, watching her brother in curiosity.

“do you want to sit in your high chair, mima?” chan asked, beckoning the little girl over as he put her milk on the tray. he lifted her up with a fun noise, sitting her in there as she happily drank her milk and watched her brother. “what do you guys want for breakfast this morning?”

chan was mindlessly asking as he looked through the fridge at all the banchan and regular ingredients stacked up. he gasped, “wow, mum left us some beef from last night! and some kimchi jeon, do you guys want that with some banchan?”

joey nodded, jemima staring at her dad with an amused look. chan pulled a face so she started giggling, her feet swinging back and forth.

“joey what this?” she asked, her attention going back to her older brother.

“its for mummy,” he smiled, whispering the words as he glanced to his dad, chan too pre-occupied with cooking to hear him, “she’s away for two days so i’m making her a sign for when she gets back.”

“mummy gone?!” jemima exclaimed dramatically.

“hmm?” chan called, absentmindedly, “yeah mummy’s away for the weekend, mima. but we’re gonna have fun, aren’t we?! yay!”

“what are we doing today, dad?” joey asked, his colouring pencils scribbling against the page.

“um, i thought we could meet up jiyoung and haein today,” chan said, “me and your uncles have a little bit to do but we don’t have to go to the stud—”

“oh please can we go to the studio?!” joey begged, looking up at his dad with a pleading look in his eye.

chan laughed, shocked, “yeah, of course we can, bud! wasn’t expecting you to want to, but of course!”

“just more to do there, you know,” joey shrugged.

chan nodded, “yeah, i’m sorry you don’t have any cousins your age, joe.”

“it’s okay,” he hummed, “it’ll be fun when we’re older.”

chan smiled at his son’s maturity, plating up the food, “yeah, it will. and at least you know they all look up to you, right?”

joey smiled bashfully, not looking up from his work. chan placed a plate down in front of him, as well as two more for the twins, placing a plate of extra banchan in the middle of the table. he pulled up a chair beside jemima, starting on his own food while keeping an eye on the littlest member of the family.

“twins! food’s on the table!”

the boys, still in pirate mode, ran into the kitchen, crashing into the table as they started eating.

“thank you for the food,” joey said, before tucking in, the rest of his siblings following, despite the food already bulging in their cheeks.

“you’re welcome, babies,” chan cooed, playing with dan’s hair gently, “see? we don’t need mummy, daddy’s got everything covered.”

189 notes · View notes

partycatty · 9 months

Note

Do you write for other characters like bi han or tomas?

i do! i'm just mentally ill over johnny LOL

lin kuei trio > caught

the boys can't keep their eyes off of you! what're you gonna do about it?!

warnings: idk nothing much tbh, i guess a little nsfw at the end of smoke's part but nothing crazy, controversial bi-han take? kuai favoritism <3 & google translate

notes: pretend that bi-han's betrayal doesn't happen for his part. i rewrote this twice bc i kept accidentally clicking on notifs and forgetting to save. third time's the charm :3 also pls admire that i specifically made gifs of each man making eye contact w you teehee

masterlist <3

♡

bi-han >

•let me preface this by saying i heavily disagree with the headcanons of most of his fics. this man is ASS at verbalizing affection, and probably wants a trad wife to serve him. he won't call you "princess" or "doll," and PDA is not his strong suit. he'll love you of course, he just wouldn't show it with flowers and cuddles.

•that being said, all he could do was eye you down as you opened the front door, coming face to face with him, his brother kuai liang, and the fire god liu kang. your jaw opened and closed rapidly, trying to make sense of the two ninjas and man with glowing eyes.

•"uhh, there's no hunky ninja-themed bachelorette party here tonight," you say, raising an eyebrow. "try two houses down. lord knows they're a couple of freaks—" before you could close the door on them, bi-han reaches forward and sticks his foot in the door. liu kang, the primary voice of reason and supposed leader of the situation, asks to enter your home. you don't feel like you're in a position to decline.

•kuai liang wanders your living room, tracing his finger across your shelves and leaning in to inspect your paintings. liu kang stands in front of you, giving you the whole "earthrealm, fire god, tournament, chosen one" spiel, we all know how it goes. but you're struggling to focus, struggling pretty hard actually, because bi-han is literally standing like a statue at your kitchen island a few feet away, his icy glare seemingly stabbing through your skull. perhaps he's just intimidating you into an agreement. it works.

•you really hope that bi-han's staring ends there, but you are a damn fool.

•you train alongside the other recruited earthrealmers, taking a short break when you see a now-familiar trio stroll through the training grounds. yellow, grey... and blue. and even though their destination seems well past your location, bi-han literally could not tear his eyes away from you as you sat under the tree as you try to relieve yourself of the ruthless heat of the sun. he drinks in your damp form, and the way your hair sticks sweetly to your forehead. that is, until kuai liang gives him an obvious playful jab to his side, making bi-han snap forward and continue to lead his brothers, not before shooting him a nasty look. icy frost is noticeable on his fists as he clenches them.

•are you losing your mind? why the hell is the grandmaster of the lin kuei eating you alive with his eyes alone? you try to confide in your earthrealm partners, but raiden shrugs, kenshi's at a loss for words, and kung lao and johnny just laugh boisterously at your oblivious nature.

•finally, you're accompanying the lin kuei trio as they wait for instruction from liu kang regarding the soul stealing beacons. smoke and scorpion sit on the bench while sub-zero paces endlessly. each time he faces your way, he locks eyes with you. what is this guy's deal? it literally looks like he wants to skin you alive.

•kung lao and raiden permit them to enter liu kang's meeting room, and bi-han immediately struts off with a noticeable tinge of pink on his face. as the other two follow, you stop and grab kuai liang's shoulder gently, making him face you with surprised eyes.

•"pardon my hindrance, scorpion," you say with a quick bow. "but your grandmaster has been eyeing me down since as long as i've known him. is... is there something i did? something he is displeased with? i find it quite unnerving."

•kuai liang's face freezes, and then very clearly fights a shit-eating smirk. it's not typical for him to be as amused as he is now, but how could he resist when he could literally see what was going on? he chuckles for a moment.

•"bi-han thinks you'd make a good wife," kuai liang replies, a smile tugging at his lips. "please forgive his harsh expression. he couldn't shake it if he tried."

•with that, bi-han's younger brother turns on his heel and enters the mission debrief, leaving you beet red and suddenly completely understanding the signs after the fact.

•when the trio returns successful, you stop noticing his eye contact, because you're too embarrassed to even glance in his general direction. doesn't stop him, though.

♡

smoke >

•you were an initiate of the shirai ryu following its formation. disgusted by the betrayal of your former grandmaster, tomas and kuai liang beckoned you to carry on a new oath in a new chapter of the close-knit clan. you had not seen them much prior to this, but they didn't think to question your dedication.

•since reforming the clan and being given a higher position rather than a lowly grunt, your uniform changed. the once all-black, full-body uniform became something you could design. you opted for something a little more... breathable. think mk11 mileena.

•shut up i know ninja uniforms are like that for a reason just bear with me

•you decide to debut said outfit at a meeting over tea, strutting in and taking your seat with grace. tomas nearly chokes on his damn tea, a single puff of smoke shooting from his lips as he coughs. he wishes he had his mask on right about now, so he could conceal his reddening cheeks. you, his brother, and harumi look at him with partially perplexed, partially amused glances before moving on, hoping to save smoke from the embarrassment of being confronted.

•every time you leaned forward to point at the map centered on the table, tomas's eyes were glued to you. this poor man doesn't know what to do with himself when you're just so pretty! taking a gentle sip of your tea as kuai liang asks tomas about the new recruit, that hasashi boy, you glance up past the cup and realize tomas is quite literally giving you heart eyes, completely entranced. you chuckle to yourself. it is quite cute when he looks at you like that, lips parted and eyes gentle.

•"grandmaster," you say calmly, turning toward the pyromancer. "it seems your second-in-command missed your question. would you mind repeating yourself?" as you ask, tomas seemingly snaps out of it and tries to conceal his devious thoughts, putting his palm over his mouth and leaning on his elbow on the table.

•kuai liang groans to himself before repeating the question, one that tomas answers quickly and a little anxiously. he flashes you a sheepish smile. harumi giggles and look at the two of you knowingly.

•a long evening of training kicked your ass, and you decided you deserved a good rest in the nearby hot springs. fully confirming you're alone in the moonlight, you strip of your uniform and dip into the hot water. your tense muscles unravel at the warmth and you let out a pleased moan at the relief. the water reaches just above your breasts and you're about to lean your head back and close your eyes, letting the comfort of the water encapsulate you.

•that is, until you see a faint trail of smoke creep out from behind you and dip into the water around you. you smile knowingly, not even bothering to turn around.

•"tomas," you say, a hint of playful displeasure in your tone. "for a ninja, your stealth skills are starting to fall apart."

•your trained ears hear him freeze completely and let out a little gasp. tomas slips out a curse in his native language. now it's time to toy with your food.

•still in the water, you spin around and prop yourself up against the ledge of the hot springs, looking up at him seductively. tomas breaks from his deer in headlights pose and faces you, looking down and trying so incredibly hard to remain focused on your eyes, but it's just so hard when your breasts are right—

•"i've seen the way you look at me," you confess in a sultry voice. "i'm not a blind fool. it's incessant."

•"i-i didn't think you were," tomas stammers out, crouching down to be more eye level with you. "i meant no offense, you're just so... so—"

•"none taken," you chuckle, tilting your head. "were you going to be a peeping tom, or join me, then?"

♡

kuai liang >

•since being recruited for earthrealm's part in the tournament, kuai liang has paid more visits than probably necessary to run into you during your months of training.

•he'd be all like "omg heeeey what are youuuu doing hereeee" knowing damn well of your schedule (i'm lying i'm just in love with this yummy little s'more).

•though he would get into the habit of taking late night strolls around the wu shi academy to clear his mind. it was happenstance that you enjoyed the same habit.

•this man is huge and hunky, giving you comfort and safety as you navigate the moonlit paths of the land. he finds you to be a sweet conversation partner, carrying yourself with elegance and kindness that perfectly compliments his humble, noble spirit. you speak of a passion to fight for what is right, so focused on speaking and gesturing that you don't even realize kuai liang is staring down at you with utmost admiration. his heart warms (more than usual) at what a catch you are — for the tournament...!

•"tell me, scorpion," you speak up, looking up at him with eyes that could melt. "are you the only of your family to harness the power of fire?"

•"it is a long running ability in my family," kuai liang replies, confidently but with a gentle tone. "the methods in which we harness this power are a well-kept secret."

•"even so, scorpions don't burn," you reply quickly with an amused tone, grinning up at the man. you realize he was already looking down at you with a mirrored smile. "what makes you a scorpion?"

•"my strength and sting," he says as if he were reading a script. then again, he's probably been asked this hundreds of times. his brothers were icy sub-zero and hazy smoke, his name didn't exactly fit the narrative.

•as you part your lips to continue your conversation, a gust of wind makes you shiver and you let out a little gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. kuai remains unfazed but takes note of your chilliness.

•"are you alright, xiǎo huǒhuā?" he asks with a hint of uncharacteristic concern. your face warms momentarily at the nickname, only to be reminded of the bitter cold with another gust of wind. it wasn't the first time he said that unfamiliar phrase, but you just never thought to ask about it. reflecting on it now, you're realizing it's a pet name. you rub your arms.

•"just... cold," you reply with a trembling lip. "times like these i wish i had your power." for the first time in a while, kuai liang breaks his gaze from you and looks down at his hands, debating whether or not to speak up. he didn't want to push any boundaries with you, as he genuinely enjoyed your presence. still, he decided he's only got one shot.

•"it's a power i'm willing to share," he replies lowly, sticking his hands out palms-up. you look up at him, hesitant about his offer. another gust of wind, harsher this time, pushes on your back and pulls you toward him. you catch yourself on his hands. they're so warm and inviting. they're not necessarily soft, but they feel comforting and... god, so warm. as you sigh with relief, you look up again and realize that, just like every time beforehand, kuai liang was looking down at you with a soft smile. he was just always warm as a pyromancer, heat creeping through his skin no matter the weather.

•you two had successfully broken the barrier of touch, and you continue to walk down the path. kuai holds both of your hands in one of his, the other wrapped around your shoulder and rubbing up and down your arm to keep you from being too chilly. it's a sweet embrace, one that neither of you want to fully unpack yet, but it's a step nonetheless.

•"why is it that every time i look at you, you're already looking at me?" you ask quietly, enamored by his embrace. kuai tenses up momentarily, feeling a little sheepish at the direct confrontation. he soon relaxes after finding the right words.

•"because you're beautiful, xiǎo huǒhuā," he replies gently, squeezing your arm and hands tenderly.

•"what does that word mean?" you ask, face flushed and entire body no longer concerned over the cold.

•"...little spark."

•and so, you two continue to walk down the path in the moonlight, now in his comforting, toasty embrace.

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mk1 #kuai liang #kuai liang x reader #smoke x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada #mk smoke #sub zero x reader #sub zero #bi han x reader #bi han #mk scorpion #scorpion x reader

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buggysangel17 · 1 year

Text

Meet The Cross Guild

Summary: You meet your husband's new 'co-workers'. Mihawk realized the worry that came with having you as his one and only weakness. Characters: Dracule Mihawk x Wife!Female Reader (Amihan). Sir Crocodile. Buggy. Word Count: 1,392 Chapter Warnings: Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence. Mention of slicing someone's body part. (Buggy obviously) lol.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Send Me An Ask?

“Who is this?”

To Mihawk, it took a lot out of him to bring you here—in what would now be his new home, a place that would also serve as one of the many places where meetings would take place with the likes of one Crocodile and the annoyance of the fucking clown. But it was a risk he was willing to make knowing that you could handle your own.

After the events as what was your shared home in Kuraigana Island, how you had fought almost in the same par as him, he trusted you enough to be in the same space as two other former warlords that could possibly be a danger to not only himself but to you, his one and only weakness.

“That’s a good costume. The nose even looks so realistic too.”

He stands corrected.

He had watched Buggy take hold of your face, offended as his nose was now a topic of discussion. But somehow the fear was never once lingering on your face even as the empty threats begin to spill out of the clown’s lips for his nose being acknowledged.

“I’d be careful with my wife, she knows how to wield whatever weapon she could get her hands upon.” He had warned not his wife, but the man that had the utter audacity to hold onto his wife the way he did.

“Wife?!”

Buggy did not even finish the single word before a knife was pulled out of your palms and slicing through the man’s hand, ineffective knowing the Devil fruit the clown had with him. But the shock was all the more amusing in your eyes seeing the lack of blood as well as pain in the face of the clown.

“He isn’t affected by slashing attacks, My Love.” Mihawk had finally explained as you were still utterly confused by everything that the man in front of you was being.

Mihawk watched the arrogance in the clown as he continued to tease his wife about close to invisible because of his powers, but busy as he was with his own thoughts a ghost of a smile had laced the swordsman’s face as you instead pulled out a blunt mace from out of your palm and immediately bludgeoning the man with it knocking him down cold for a good few minutes of peace.

“Thank you.” Mihawk patted your shoulder, appreciating the lack of annoyance for now.

“It seems we have interrupted your time with your wife.” It was now Sir Crocodile that made his presence known, with the lack of an annoying figure that was Buggy, he was free to talk without much of an interruption.

“It’s fine.” You reassured with a smile on your lips, returning both your knife and mace back to your palm right in front of the man.

“It seems we have another Devil Fruit wielder then.”

“She is.” Mihawk finds himself interrupting the man’s line of questions. The less the man knows about you and your background, the better. He trusted you, but the same could not be said about the two men that was now in his home.

“It would be best to keep an eye on her then, Hawk Eye, if the World Government knew about her existence, it would be her head that’s plastered in the Bounty Posters.”

Mihawk has known as much. But he trusted not only himself, but as well as you that you would keep yourself away from much trouble as you possibly could. With this new change in both of your lives, you never resented him for it. In fact, you enjoyed yet another change in your life alongside him. That alone had reassured him that anything that may come, you took to stride.

“She can handle herself perfectly fine with or without me to help her.” Mihawk spoke.

“I’ll leave you three to it. I’ll bring the tea once it’s brewed.” You patted him on the chest and kissed him on the cheeks before leaving the two men to the impending conversation that they would be dealing with now.

“If she finds herself becoming a pirate, she might even surpass you, Hawk Eye.”

“And I don’t doubt you on your statement. But she is content to work by my side for now.”

“But until when?”

“They seem—nice. The clown is also a funny one.” You spoke the moment Mihawk had slipped out of the bath he had.

He was welcomed to the sight of you in bed in your delicate nightgown with a book in hand. You were surprisingly in good spirit even with how the entire day played out. Buggy, for all intents and purposes did not back down even after being knocked down cold by your hands. Somehow doubling down in making his entire stay focused on getting on your nerves but somehow you welcomed him with a smile and asking if he wanted any of the pastries you’ve made for the day. But his worry had been more on Crocodile, how his interest in you and your power had unnerved him—he might not have gotten under your skin, but he succeeded in getting under Mihawk’s as much as he did not want to admit it.

Instead of crawling into his side of the bed, he finds himself crawling on top of you, nestling his cheek against the flesh of your chest—this was his side of the bed now for the past few months. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands now rested on his hair, scratching onto his scalp in the same way that he loved you doing.

“What’s on your mind, Darling?” You inquired halting in your movements.

“Keep going.” He finds himself urging you on.

“You’re so needy.” You playfully complained but obliged to his request.

“It’s not really something you need to worry about. Just a few hindrance that needs to mind their own business.” He began. “We had made an agreement with the clown that he will be the face that is plastered for the World Government to see but I’m concerned about what it would mean if they find out about you.”

“I’m not really worried.” You shrugged, smiling down at him. The softness of your gaze towards him brought him peace that he would have never thought he would deserve. “I’m married to the strongest swordsman in the world, I’m certain and I am very confident that you will not let anything happen to me.”

All his worries, it all magically vanished away at your words. How even when all was said and done, when the circumstance of your relationship was not as ideal as he would have wanted it to be, you still gave him faith that he never truly believed he deserved or earned.

He flipped the both of you until you were now under him, a surprised squeal escaping from your lips from the sudden movement. He smiled immediately pulling you in for a kiss before you could admonish him for the sudden movement.

“I care for you, so much more than I would ever care for anything else in this world. I vow to protect you, to care for you, and to love you until my last breath.”

They never had their vows, and this was the closest thing he could do for it. He will make a reality out of a once forced circumstance.

“Mihawk��” You wrapped your arms around him, drawing him closer, and for a brief moment, the world around you both disappeared. All that mattered was the two of you, your love, and the vows that he had made. It was a promise that would withstand the test of time.

As you finally parted, your forehead touched, and you looked into his eyes, your heart was full of love and gratitude. In the serene moment of peace in your own little space, this was a beginning of a new life for the two of you and Mihawk will make sure you will have the life you always wanted and what you always deserved.

“I love you, Mihawk.” You whispered, voice filled with emotion.

Mihawk smiled, his eyes glistening with love. Your lips met once more, sealing your vows and love in a kiss that would linger in your hearts for as long as you were both alive.

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cameronspecial · 9 months

Text

Let Me Spend Christmas With You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: With the Holidays around the corner, Rafe only has one goal this season.

Masterlist

As the semester comes to an end, the Holiday break is fast approaching. Y/N is packing her suitcase for her flight home while Rafe pouts on her bed. “I still don’t get why you don’t want to come to Guadalupe with me and my family,” he grumbles as she packs another knitted sweater. “We weren’t together last Christmas.” The corners of her lips are slightly curved downward and her head swivels on itself. “I know we didn’t get to have Christmas together last year and I really do want to spend the Holidays with you. But I also want a white Christmas. You know, snow, fireplaces, and hot cocoa,” she argues. Rafe gets up from the bed and holds onto her arm, “Come on, Angel. Who needs those things when you can have beaches and sex on the beach? The drink and the act. Please, let me spend Christmas with you, Angel.” It’s rare to see Rafe begging, expect if it means he gets to spend more time with Y/N. “Rafe, that sounds really nice. But what about my family?” she asks, wrapping her arms around his neck. His eyes bore into hers, “They can come too. There are more than enough rooms in our beach house for your family.” He watches as a sparkle starts to form in her eyes, alongside her smile. “Really? I’ll go ask them if they want to go now,” she pulls out her phone and dials her mom’s number.

———

Rafe’s hand is on the small of her back as he guides her down the stairs of the Camerons’ private jet. Y/N can feel water start to pool out of her pores. “Thank you again for inviting us on vacation with you guys,” he can hear Garth thank Ward ahead of them. Ward shakes his head, “No problem. Last year, Rafe was so sulky without Y/N with him, so I’m glad to do anything for them to be together this year.” Overhearing the men’s conversation, she giggles at the thought of her boyfriend missing her. Rafe frowns at her and brings her to his side. “Don’t laugh at my misfortune,” he laments, kissing her cheek. She throws her hand up in the air, “I’m sorry, but you are just so darn cute.”

———

Christmas morning is a little bit different for her this year. Y/N and Rafe had found a secluded beach on the island and after they spent Christmas Eve with their families, they snuck away to it for an amazing night together. The grains of sand shift under her weight as she twists in his hold. The towel they are lying on barely does anything to keep the sand away from their skin. Her eyes flutter open to see Rafe’s still breathing shallowly. She kisses his lips and watches as he starts to wake up. “Merry Christmas, Rafe,” she whispers, burying her head in his neck. His lips press a kiss in her hair, “Merry Christmas, Angel. We should probably head back home. I know Wheezie is going to be dying to open the presents.” She agrees with his statement and they both get their bathing suits on to go home.

“Looks like the love birds have finally pulled themselves out of wherever they were. Come on you two, we were just about to open presents,” Candace beckons Rafe and her daughter as they walk through the front door. The couple makes their way down into the living room, where the Christmas tree is, and settles on the floor. Rafe and Y/N’s hips brush against each other because of how close they are sitting.

Each family member takes turns opening a gift with the watchful eyes of the other members. The next gift placed in Y/N’s lap is a rectangular prism wrapped in paper with tiny reindeer on them. The card sticking out behind the ribbon has her name written on it in Rafe’s chicken scratch and his name under it. She keeps the card and takes the time to take the tape off of the paper to preserve it. Underneath, she finds a white cardboard box with no identifiers as to what is inside. She gives Rafe a raised eyebrow and he encourages her to open it. Her thumb slots in the gap of the box’s lid, pulling it open. Inside is a mason jar decorated with ribbons and tiny hearts. The label says One Hundred Reasons Why I Love You in cursive writing she has never seen before. There are folded paper slips in the jar. She opens it up and picks one out. The writing is in the same effortful cursive. Reason #47: You never judge me for my mistakes. Instead, you help me grow from them. She is touched that he took the time to work on her gift because she is sure each reason is something just as thoughtful as this one. Tears brim in her eyes as she pulls him into a hug. “Thank you,” she murmurs in his ear.

Next to open a gift is Rafe and it just so happened to be Y/N’s. He removes the tissue paper from the bag, folding it nicely for Y/N to reuse later. He finds a folded article of clothing inside. It is a jean jacket and on the back, there is an embroidered picture. The beautiful work shows Rafe and Y/N kissing. He turns the jacket so he can see the front to find Angel written in a heart on the breast pocket. Y/N has obviously put a lot of effort into the gift and he loves it. He brings her in for a kiss as a thank you. She smiles at the feel of his lips on her skin. This Christmas might not be spent in the snow, but Christmas in the sand is just as good.

———

Rafe is getting lunch when Jaiden walks into the kitchen. Rafe’s back is facing the doorway so he doesn’t notice the other boy’s appearance. Jaiden stares at Rafe’s back in amazement. “Your jacket is so cool, Dude,” Jaiden compliments, heading to the fridge to get a beer. Rafe turns toward his fellow brother and beams with pride. “Why thank you, my angel made it for me. I’m one lucky guy,” he gushes. “Well, she did a great job,” Jaiden adds before leaving the room. Rafe can’t hide his grin as he finishes lunch and brings it upstairs to his angel.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

#let me angel #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron series #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader

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azaleakoneko · 11 months

Text

Doctor’s Orders

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Fem|Reader

Requested by: @strawheart-pirate

A/N: Hii! I went back and forth for a bit about how exactly to do this prompt, but I hope you like it 😊. It was a nice little challenge ❤️‍🩹

Warnings: Super short lived anxiety to set the scene for the fluff! Soft Doctor Law 🫰

Word count: 3.4k

Please note that just because this work is fluff and appropriate for consumption of any age, that cannot be said about the rest of my blog. This is primarily an 18+ Blog and will stay that way, so keep that in mind, thank you!

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˗ˏˋ ༺｡° .ᘛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ᘚ. ° ｡༻ ˎˊ˗

༝༚༝༚ ༝༚༝༚ ༝༚༝༚ ༝༚༝༚

˗ˏˋ ༺｡° .ᘛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ᘚ. ° ｡༻ ˎˊ˗

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Docking on islands to restock when possible certainly wasn’t unusual, but what was intended to be a short stay somehow turned from one day to three — from three to a week and then two as Law agreed to take on patients in return for the supplies he was receiving.

Normally he would’ve just done the bare minimum to get in and out of a town before getting too comfortable and letting his guard down, but something about this island didn’t want to let go of him. It was like he had been called there and didn’t quite know the reason, that is until he met you.

You were so sweet and personable with himself and his crew as you took it upon yourself to load his temporary office with the required supplies donated by the town. At first he hardly spoke a word to you aside from the usual gratitude, but he couldn’t help but take an interest in you the more you came around — admiring how hard you worked to help them out when you really didn’t need to. Your excuse was always something along the lines of ‘doing your due diligence for the town’, or simple enough excuses of citizens personally asking you to deliver goods on their behalf, but to him it always felt like there were words left unsaid behind those pretty lips of yours.

Eventually he accepted that alongside his frequent supply deliveries would be an opportunity to get to know you better, something he disliked less and less the more you opened up to him. Your smile alone made his heart leap and his face heat in a way that left him wondering for a while if perhaps he had caught something while treating the locals. However, after similar symptoms popping up at things like the sound of your voice, slight lingering touches from your delicate hands when you passed him things, or even the way you’d take an interest in his work — even the doctor had to admit to himself that there was more to his interest than just appreciation and that he indeed wasn’t sick. At least, not the type of sick medicine would cure.

Things continued progressing this way, sweet and slow, until one day there was a sudden heavy storm that threw off the routine he had grown to love.

˗ˏˋ ༺｡° .ᘛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ᘚ. ° ｡༻ ˎˊ˗

“She should have been here by now…” Law said to himself as his mind began to drift to the worst case scenarios as he rose to his feet, shoes thudding against the floor anxiously as he walked over to the heavy wooden door, swinging it open to stare out into the downpour. His heart sank and he had knots in the depths of his stomach at the thought of something terrible happening to you. His eyes scanned the darkened horizon and immediately widened when he saw a soaked figure surrounded by parcels being pelted by a merciless torrent of rain. Without a second thought he had already bolted out the door alongside a snap of lightning and rolling thunder outside, thinking about nothing else other than ensuring you hadn’t been harmed.

“Y/N! What were you even thinking still trying to make your delivery run out here in this nasty weather?” Law said with a bite to his voice, but the tremble gave away his true worry. “Come on, let’s get you inside so I can look you over and make sure these scrapes are just artificial.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to retort as he swept your drenched body up into his arms and began to carry you back inside, disregarding the drips littering the floor as he moved to place you down on the sterilized bed usually reserved for the temporary patients that came to see him. “Just lay back and let me check, alright? You’ve seen me use this before, so there’s nothing to fear y/n-ya.”

You nodded and would’ve attempted to stifle a giggle from his concern if it weren’t for your chattering teeth and trembling body preventing you from finding much of anything funny at the moment. “Mhm, I-I trust y-you Doctor.” You managed to murmur out, feeling a bit guilty for making a mess and causing so much unnecessary concern all because you wanted to keep to your schedule so you could spend another evening chatting with him about everything under the now clouded over sun. You certainly got your wish, but you hoped it didn’t come at the cost of wasting his time. “Oh n-no, the supplies!” You said, attempting to sit up and move.

Law placed a firm yet gentle hand on your shoulder with his eyebrows knit together in concern, not even needing to use much force to get you to lay back down on the mattress. “Supplies be damned — they can always be replaced, you on the other hand can’t be. Now let me do my examination before you try to move again. Doctor's orders, you hear me?”

You complied, wet clothing making a soft squelch against the plastic of the bed as you settled in, laying perfectly still with your gaze locked on him in fascination as he began to use his devil fruit powers to check over you with extreme precision. You already knew it was no use protesting until he had made sure himself, regardless of what you said. “S-So? What’s the verdict Doc? Am I gonna live?” You asked with a smirk, wishing you had a warm change of clothes so your teasing wouldn’t lose part of its playful effect from your continued shivering.

Hearing you joke around paired with the conclusive results of his powers had his shoulders sagging in relief. He sighed and put a tattooed hand to his head, satisfied that you really weren’t injured. “Yeah, thankfully you’re gonna be fine. Seriously though, what were you thinking y/n? You’re lucky you weren’t out there too long before I found you.”

“Still w-worrying about me, Trafalgar? I’m fine, really. I’m just a l-little cold and um, quite d-damp…” You said as you lifted one of your waterlogged sleeves as an example. “I just wanted to bring you what you needed — you’re not mad are you? I’m really sorry, I j-just wanted to see you.” It was clear enough by your honest tone that you were remorseful, but it made you worry if you had said something wrong when you saw him look momentarily bewildered by your innocent confession before it seemed the puzzle pieces finally clicked together in his mind. It was for him.

“…” Law looked upset but said nothing as he shook his head and offered his hand out for you to help you up from the examination table. “No, I’m not mad. Not at you or the situation,” He said as he waited for you to sit up and have a firm grip on his hand. “-so yeah, I was worried about you. Now come on, I’ll show you to the bathroom so you can shower and get warmed up. Wouldn’t want you to actually get sick… I have some things I can give you to change into when you’re done. I’ll leave them by the door and toss your wet clothes into the dryer afterwards. Does that sound okay with you?”

You nodded with a genuine smile, more than happy to have been offered his kindness instead of a frigid biting response on this already chilly evening. “Mhm, t-thank you very much d-doctor.” You muttered thankfully as he ushered you into the bathroom and waited for you to close the door.

Once you turned the water on and began to strip away the wet garments that had been stripping you of your body heat you heard his footsteps recede for a bit, returning a few minutes later with a soft rap on the door with his fingers that read ‘e’ and ‘a’. It nearly made you jump since you weren’t accustomed to showering at someone else’s home, let alone someone you were infatuated with, but he was respectful and as promised left the dry clothing by the door; his yellow sweatshirt with his crew’s symbol and a comfortable pair of sweatpants.

“Take your time, I’ll get started on making something hot for you to drink when you get out. Feel free to use any of the stuff in the shower, I don’t mind. Just leave the wet things on the floor, I’ll take care of them.” He called out as he headed to the kitchen, letting you ease into the steaming water to ease away the chill and scrub away the wet filth.

˗ˏˋ ༺｡° .ᘛ 𓆩♡𓆪 ᘚ. ° ｡༻ ˎˊ˗

When you got out you felt fully refreshed, the shivering from the cold now replaced with a slight nervous tremble as you looked at yourself in his clothes — a slight blush decorating your cheeks. “He’s just being nice, don’t think too much of it..” you said to yourself as you ignored your own words, gripping the front of the hoodie and bringing it up to your nose to inhale the scent that still lingered there. It was a musky pine scent that made butterflies tingle in your stomach before you dropped the material and cleared your throat, not wanting to be flustered when you joined him again.

You left the wet items on the floor despite feeling a bit guilty for leaving a mess, but he did say he would take care of it after all. Since you were done you took one last glance at yourself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom and going to look for him. It didn’t take long, you just followed your nose to the alluring scent of hot chocolate and peppermint to the kitchen; eyes widening in delight when you saw the steaming cup topped with whipped cream just waiting for you on the table across from the considerate doctor himself.

“That smells delicious! Thank you, Trafalgar…” You gasped as you picked up the cup and eagerly took a sip, disregarding the white foam that now covered the top part of your lip. The hot liquid scorched your tongue and throat a little as you gulped it down, but the way it warmed your insides had you sighing contentedly before flashing him a grateful smile. “I don’t know how to repay you for all of this…”

“There is no need for you to repay me y/n. You do plenty just by bringing me supplies and giving me company all the time…” Law said as he held up a hand and shook his head, a light dusting of pink across his cheeks as he looked at you. It also seemed you weren’t the only one that liked how you looked in his clothing, evident by the way he could hardly take his eyes off of you now. “If you really want to thank me though, please be more careful. I like seeing you too, but not if it puts you at risk.” He said before diverting his attention from you and grabbing his own cup in an attempt to hide his embarrassment from sounding like an overprotective partner when it hadn’t even been something in your control — let alone the fact that he was just being a friend to you and nothing more.

At least that’s what he continued to think to himself as he put his cup down and cleared his throat. “I’m really glad that you’re alright though... It’s still too stormy out there for me to feel comfortable sending you home. You can stay here tonight if you’re comfortable with that? I can take the couch — you can go ahead and take the bed for the night.”

You nearly choked on your drink when you heard him offer his bed for the night, but you couldn’t deny that the thought of not having to leave was appealing. You carefully set the cup down with a delicate clink against the table and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “R-Really? I wouldn’t want to impose… I can take the couch, it’s not a problem. Besides, I’m not even tired yet.” That was true enough. How could you possibly be tired now knowing you would be sleeping under the same roof as your beloved doctor? It seemed impossible, improbable even, yet that was your current predicament thanks to the heavy rains.

“Tired or not it wouldn’t be right to have you sleep on the couch when I have a perfectly good bed you could use. Doctor’s orders.” Law said as a playful smirk began to pull at the corners of his lips, clearly loving being able to take advantage of his title to force your hand on the sleeping arrangements. Not like he minded — he’d fallen asleep in much more uncomfortable places than a soft, warm couch during his countless hours of medicinal study.

You puffed your cheeks up and crossed your arms but knew he’d already made up his mind. “Fine, but can we just… talk for a while? I mean, I did almost die and all just so I could come and give you some company.” Sure it was a dramatization, but he was already not playing fair so you weren’t going to either. “Or are visiting hours done for the night?”

Law scoffed amusedly and walked around the table so he was in front of you before plopping one of his hands on the top of your head to ruffle your hair softly. “I think I can push back visiting hours, just for you. But first... you have something on your face just here—” he mumbled as he raised his other hand, index finger swiping along your top lip to collect the forgotten cream from the hot chocolate before thoughtlessly popping his finger into his mouth, swirling the cream off of his finger with his tongue before realizing that was probably too much.

You were stunned as you watched him, feeling your heart skip from his closeness and the random act of intimacy. “T-Trafalgar…?” You stuttered his name quietly, all hopes of hiding your flushed cheeks gone out the window. If it were possible you’d probably have steam coming out of your ears, but in reality you stood there like a deer in headlights with widened eyes and a yearning expression on your face. Part of you wished he would’ve just kissed you to get it off, only making your mortification worse.

Law thought about it too as he saw your sweet, confused yet wanting expression, but he wasn’t sure if it would be too much so he chose to back off a bit with a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his head and took a step back. “Sorry, I guess I got a bit carried away didn’t I… Here, let me take your cup. We can just go sit on the couch and talk until you get tired, if I didn’t make things weird?”

It took a moment for your brain to rewire, but when it did you cleared your throat and shook your head. “U-Um it’s not weird, I just wasn’t expecting it. I thought you were going to.. going to um..” you began to say before stopping yourself. “Never mind, it’s not important! S-Sure, sounds good to me.” Never before had you wanted to kick yourself more than in that moment, but he just smiled at you knowingly as he took the cup from you and began to wash it in the sink along with his own before setting them both in the dish rack side by side.

He then led you to the couch and let you get settled before sitting beside you, noticing your feeble attempts at maintaining distance as the two of you discussed everything you’d initially planned on bringing up to him. That didn’t last long however. The more you talked and the later it got, the more you sank into his side until he had his arm slung comfortably behind you, casually holding onto you as if it were a normal thing between the two of you. It was comforting paired with the sound of the rain still pelting the windows outside, urging you to stay inside with Law where it was safe and warm.

“Are you getting tired yet…?” Law asked softly as he raised his other hand to tuck some of your loose strands behind your ear, feeling his heart spill over with warmth and unbridled affection when you looked up at him. His devil fruit allowed him to steal hearts at will, but that look you gave him alone ensured that you had stolen his without even trying. “You look like you’re barely keeping your eyes open. I can carry you to the bed if you need me to, y/n.”

A sleepy pout knitted your brows together and your hand attempted to grip onto his shirt in protest but your grip was hardly strong enough to do so when you were only barely staving off the lull of sleep thanks to his attentiveness and warmth. “I’m not falling asleep. I’m wide awake, see…?” You said as you made a show of widening your eyes just for your lids to quickly return to their half lidded state — your hand partially sliding down his chest since it took everything you had just to stay conscious.

Law chuckled, his laugh reverberating in his chest and making you shake slightly and making it ten times harder to stay awake from hearing the soft pleasant sound you adored so much so closely. “Yeah, I see that…” he said as he sighed and pulled you closer into his side, angling his hold on you so that it would be easier for him to scoop you up and carry you into the room when you finally passed out. “You put up a good fight, but I think it’s the sandman’s shift with you now sweetheart…”

If you were more conscious that comment would’ve sent you into another fluster, but all you could process was him trying to move you and it resulted in you using the last of your energy to cling to him. “Please just let me stay wherever you are, Traffy…”

Law paused for a moment at your use of a nickname on him in return while asking something like that of him. It was so cute watching you fight him even now, and he had to admit it was a nice thought — getting to fall asleep with you tucked inside of his arms, safe from the rainstorm and warm in his bed. He sighed once more and leaned his head down to place a chaste kiss against your forehead as a distraction before swiping you up effortlessly in his arms, head nestled against his shoulder, and took you into the darkness of his organized bedroom to lay you down on his bed.

He placed you down on the bed, helping you slip under the covers with a tender smile on his face as he watched you dig your face into his pillow and visibly relax. “That’s it, get comfortable.” He hummed quietly as he tried to back off and let you fall deeper into the slumber you so badly tried to put off, but your hand caught his when he tried to walk away, your next words making him feel like he had no choice but to give you whatever you wanted.

“Can you please stay with me? I want you here…” You said with a half conscious yawn, struggling to open your eyes and look at him. He’d be sure to tease you in the morning about how you refused to let him leave the room, but for now his resolve crumbled and he crawled into the bed beside you, pulling you against his chest — not even surprised at the contented hum that left your lips as you nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder, eyelids beginning to flutter closed once again now that you’d gotten what you wanted. “Thank you, that’s much better. Goodnight Traffy, you’re the best…”

Law couldn’t take how sweet you were being to him, feeling like he would burst from the happiness he felt. He stroked your hair affectionately with one hand as he gently tilted your face towards his, almost talking himself out of it when he saw your sleepy confused expression, but nonetheless he pressed his lips to yours in a short and sweet kiss. “Goodnight y/n… Sleep well, sweetheart.” Then he sank into the bed and pulled you close once more.

There was so much more he wanted to say, so much he wanted to offer you; like joining him on the Polar Tang when they did decide to leave, but that would have to wait until both of you were rested. For now all he wanted to do was wait out the rain wrapped up in this cozy little bubble with you.

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©HauntedHeartHowl, previously HowlTheSanjiSimp. Please do not copy, modify, translate, feed my fan fictions to AI, repost or promote my writing or graphics on other platforms. Please DO feel free to comment, reblog or follow <3

#hauntedhearthowl #howl’s saccharine autumn #one piece fluff #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar law fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece law x reader #one piece x female reader #one piece x y/n #Spotify #no beta we die like men

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rayassecretlife · 2 years

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The runaway

Pairing: 16 year old!Neteyam Sully x 15 year old!Fem!Metkayina!reader

Remember this is a mini series! And Neteyam is not in it until the second chapter! This chapter is more of a Ao’nung x reader but is necessary for the plot line!

Summary: The Pandorian Oceans were a beautiful place to live with lovely people to be around, but for some warriors, it wasn’t all that fun. Y/N is a respectable but reckless teen who will do anything she can to protect her people, even when it’s the wrong option. Getting hurt was worth it but the mental abuse she’d endure after? It drew her away.

Warning(s): Mental abuse, Mentions of blood and death, mature language

The Pandorian oceans were one of pandora’s favorited places. The animals were big and beautiful, the way of life was peaceful, and the sky was never grey. Most of the people were very friendly to one another, helping when they could with the children, but of course there were some people you weren’t too fond of.

“Y/N, your dinner is ready” Your mother spoke from aside your doorway and you nod, tying your hair into a ponytail before heading out to your families meeting area. Your family was rather big. You had two brothers and a younger sister while your mother was also pregnant with another sister. Your brothers were both younger then you, one only by two years and the other by three.

“Y/N, sit next to me!” Your younger sister calls with a giggle and you smile, placing your hand on her shoulder before taking a seat next to her. Your brothers were two knuckleheads who always had to be controlled by your father, while you were the family’s pride and joy. Well, at least that’s what everyone thought. “Your hair beads are pret-“

“Y/N, remember you have hunting in thirty minutes” Your fathers deep voice makes you sigh and you nod your head, watching him sit down across from you. The relationship you and your father shared was a very tough love situation but sometimes he could go overboard, having your mother correct him even though he did not care. You tried to be perfect for your father most of the time, and would have to take multiple embarrassing arguments in front of the clan or even your siblings from time to time. “Fix the face”

You wanted to roll your eyes but of course you couldn’t, not in front of your sister at least. Your brothers snicker next to your sister and you instantly shoot them a glare, watching the older one bite into his fruit to muffle his laugh. “Father, am I still aloud to stay with Tsireya tonight?” You ask softly but he glares at you, your mother catching his scolding eye in an instant. “You said-“

“Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N? Even if you are under Tonowari’s roof, that son of his is reckless just like you” Tonowari’s family and yours were very close, and that drew you and his older son to gain feelings for each other. You and Ao’nung would often sneak away to be with each other, not even doing anything bad but you just wanted a minute away from duty. One evening, your father caught the two of you during a kiss and ever since, you and Ao’nung have been closely watched by your fathers. “She can stay here”

“My love, maybe she just wants to leave the pod-“

“Yasada, do not be naive. What is the problem with here?” You sigh and nod your head, thanking your mother for the food she had gave to you. Your mother grabs your fathers hand soothingly, giving you an understanding look.

“You may stay with Tsireya tonight” You smile at her but it quickly washes away at your fathers blank stare, your mother cutting you off before you could say anything. “He’ll get over it. You may go after you are done hunting” Your mother was far too sweet for your father, always keeping him in check even if he didn’t want to be. She gave you much more freedom.

The night went on like any other. Starting your day helping the children, having to dinner, and ending the night with a hunt alongside the other warriors of the clan. As of right now you were stood alongside an island while some of the warriors treaded through the waters to gather food, your boyfriend standing right by your side.

“You haven’t said anything the entire time we’ve been out” Ao’nung points out, not bothering to look over to you while he asks. The argument with your father was enough to shut you up for the rest of the night, seeing as Tonowari was watching the two of you like a hawk in the sky. “It was your father, wasn’t it?”

“He’s just hard on me, That’s all” He knew, trust in Eywa herself he knew how hard your father worked you. Ao’nung did everything to protect you from things outside of the village, even the memories of previous arguments you shared with your father. He hated to see you in this state but he knew he had to break you out of it somehow before your attitude got the best of you. “Shouldn’t you be helping?”

“There it is” He snickers and you shoot him a glare, watching him sit on the rock that sat behind the two of you. “You know, you don’t have to get an attitude with me. I’m not your father” You sigh, nodding at his words as you sit next to him. You place your bow on the ground before leaning back, eyes tall toward the sky above you. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t strong. Maybe then he would’ve confided in one of my brothers”

“You are strong for a reason, Y/N” His hand is gently placed over your own, giving you a understanding look. Ao’nung knew you were stronger beyond your beliefs, it’s one of the things he loved about you, but your mind would soon end up hurting you in ways he didn’t want to imagine. “You are the strongest female warrior this clan has. Act like it” You scoff, removing your hand from his. Act like it? Was he serious? You wanted to talk back but your intrusive thoughts were soon interrupted by the calling behind you, a war cry so loud it could reach the mountains.

The hunting party quickly moves to check out the scene but Tonowari urges you to stay put, not willing to be the reason for your injury. You of course, waited until the party was far enough ahead before you made your getaway, moving through the waters to get a closer look at the loud noises.

“Another clan?” Your forehead creases as you watch them, noticing their symbols that so obviously painted on their chests. “Clanless people… bad people” You mutter to yourself, using your knife to cut the many vines and leaf’s in your way on the small patch of island. The clanless people usually kept to themselves… what were they doing here? Then you spot the leader amongst them, noticing it wasn’t their Olo’Eyktan.

“Tonight, we hunt!” The group cheers loudly and you spot Ao’nung from afar, watching as he slowly creeped past the bushes to get closer to them. Your heart was beating fast as you picked up your bow, pulling back the arrow against its wood. You step forward a tiny bit, planting your feet on the uneasy ground but almost instantly regret it, your ears twitching at the snapping sound.

You gasp, afraid to remove your eyes from the target you set on their leader. You knew a twig had snapped under you, but as they looked around you grew nervous they’d notice you if you moved even an inch. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as their gaze slowly reaches yours, and you feel your heart stop for a second.

“Y/N, No!” You can hear the male voice across from you but not soon enough before they cheer, your hand releasing the arrow in an instant before they could run towards you. Ao’nung reveals his spot behind the bushes but everyone is stopped, watching as their leader clasps his chest against the arrow sticking from it.

You watch as their leader drops to his knees with a cough, the blood from his wound spilling from his body with every breath. The people were angry, and they were all looking at you. The last glance you took was to Ao’nung, watching him shake his head with a look of disappointment which made tears brim your eyes. You didn’t have any time to think about it before the clan was running toward you, chasing you as fast as they could go on their feet.

You were quick but not quick enough, climbing up one of the trees to get away from them while they passed under you. You could hear your boyfriend’s screams for you from afar and your heart instantly stopped against your chest, head whipping around to locate him.

Once it was clear, you dropped back to the ground with a soft grunt, not a Na’vi in sight. “Ao’nung!” You yell desperately, not caring that any other could hear you. You were afraid you costed him pain, or even anyone else in the party with you immature actions, just hoping he’d call back out to you.

But of course, you were just as naive as your father said you were.

“Ahh!” A painful gasp leaves your mouth as your hair is pulled back, yanking you backwards till you hit the the grass under you. Your eyes were able to catch the Na’vi over you just in time, rolling over before he could hit you. He only chuckles while another one grabs your small body, holding you to the ground with his far bigger body then your own.

“Stupid, stupid girl” The male laughs and you hiss, afraid if you showed him your fear that he’d get the best of you. The other Na’vi holding you down was quick to pull your hair, yanking your head back so you’d look to the one standing. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

“Your trespassing, so maybe I should ask you the same question?” And with that, the first punch to your face was enough to make your vision blurry, your heart breathing so slow you felt everything in slow motion. You were just a sixteen year old girl while two adult male na’vi’s handled you, of course you weren’t going to win.

“Trespassing? No. Your people have been stealing what little we have!” He pulls you up to your feet, hand wrapped around your throat roughly. You could see the hate and anger in his eyes, the way he glared at you and how his eyes stung your own like lasers. “I hope what you did back there was worth it because your in for so much more, Little girl”

You thought he would’ve hit you again but to your surprise he didn’t. He just froze, staring at you with a blank stare as his grip on your throat slowly released. Before you knew it he dropped to his knees, and you watched in horror as he choked, your eyes traveling down to notice the arrow penetrating his stomach.

“A-Ao’nung-“ He pulls you into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your head to shield you away from the bodies dropped to the floor. Your arms wrap around your boyfriends large body, whispering how sorry you were against his chest. Tonowari rushed the two of you and you let Ao’nung pull you with him until you got back to the water, riding his Ilu back with him instead of your own.

When you got back, you were practically ambushed by your parents. Your mother was frantic as she examined your bruised face, pulling you into the tightest hug you could’ve imagined. Your father just gave you a disappointed look, shaking his head before walking away. You didn’t even have time to call for him before Ao’nung was pulling you to a healers pod.

“Sit” He instructs and you slowly do so, watching him rummage around the chests on the floor for the stuff he needed to clean your wounds. You sat there with a heavy heart, pulling your middle finger to touch the burning cut on the side of your face. “Don’t touch” He grabs your hand and sits in front of you, pressing a warm cloth to your wound.

“Ao’nung… I’m sor-“

“You could’ve gotten killed, you know that? Or gotten one of us killed! For what? What were you trying to prove, Y/N?” Your boyfriends glare is enough to make tears brim your eyes once again, biting your lip to hold in your small sobs that threatened to leave your throat.

“I wanted them to stop treating me like some little girl!” He scoffs and your face instantly becomes a mug, watching him shake his head as he applied a healing paste to your skin. “Don’t fucking look at me like that-“

“You are irresponsible! You can’t just go around making your own rules, Y/N. You sent everyone on a suicide mission!” He raised his voice, staring at you like you had two heads. Irresponsible… oh how you hated that word. “Everyone in the clan always talks about how reckless you are. They all tell me to control you! How am I supposed to control you if you act like this!”

A single tear slipped from your eye as you push him off you, standing to your feet before he could grab you again. “Your a dick” Just before you could leave he grabs your arm, pulling you back to his body.

“I’m a dick? I’m protecting you! You have to understand how embarrassing it is for me-“

“So I’m embarrassing?” He groans and you nod your head, pushing him off you once again. “If I’m so embarrassing then maybe you should find a new girlfriend”

You storm off past multiple groups of people, all looking at you some sort of way. You wanted to leave so bad, or at least somewhere quiet so you could cry. But of course, nothing in your life could ever be that easy.

“Let go!” You yell at your father, yanking your arm from his grip once he pulled you far enough into your family’s pod. “Don’t even say it because Ao’nung already gave me enough of a-“

“Tìfnu!” He yells, alerting your siblings who had previously been in their rooms. “What am I to do with you? What you did was unacceptable, Y/N. If you weren’t my daughter, it could’ve been punishable by death!” You already knew of this rule but clearly didn’t care to listen anymore, wiping your tears so they wouldn’t fall. Your father was far more angry then he’s ever been, but you didn’t know if you could handle that today.

“Dad-“

“You won’t be hunting anymore. I will be taking your bow” Your eyes widen and before he could take it from you, your hands instantly yank it back without thinking, a chuckle leaving his mouth. “Your reckless, Y/N. I don’t even know how your my daughter”

You sniffle, nodding your head high before turning to leave. You practically ran as fast as your could away from the pods, not caring that your father was yelling your name angrily. You quickly alerted your Ilu, diving under the water before Tonowari’s guards could catch you. You didn’t know where you were going, but you knew you wanted to leave.

It wasn’t just this night that your father and many others had treated you indifferently. Almost your whole life revolved around duty, and you grew up terrified of your fathers opinion. Your mind was bruised with the mental abuse you had to deal with, but the only one that ever truly saw you was Tsireya. Ao’nung loved you but only thought of the traditional type of love. He didn’t want to explore the lands with you or break the rules, he wanted you to be by his side the right way that the clan and your fathers wanted. You felt so tied down everywhere you went, and you were sure that’s why you and his relationship was filled with so many fights.

The night sky got darker by the hours went on but you kept moving, meeting with your soul sister just to get farther away from the village. Running away from home had been an activity that brimmed your mind for years but of course you never acted on it, and you knew exactly where you wanted to go.

The forest of pandora.

You’ve only heard about it in legends but you’ve always wanted to see it for yourself. You heard of how beautiful the forest was and how it was home to previous Toruk Makto’s. You were quite literally a huge fan of the forest.

Your soul sister had agreed to guide you to the forest but it would be a long time before you reached it. She knew of this long journey but certainly didn’t care when it came to helping you. So you laid flat atop of her as she floated the ocean, closing your eyes to try and speed up the process by sleeping. You couldn’t wait to see the forest, but what were you supposed to do when you got there?

“Shit!” You hiss at the stinging sensation on your leg, looking down at the blood that ran down your calf. It was hours later, and the forest was somewhat dark which surprised you seeing as the stories you heard always mentioned how lit they’d been. You couldn’t see much so you took it step by step, squinting your eyes just to see wherever you stepped.

And finally, you saw the purple glowing lights ahead.

You quickly make your way towards it in a hurry, using your knife to cut the plants that stopped you in any way. As you got closer, you could feel your eyes getting bigger at the immense amount of light stepping down onto the area in the middle of it all. “Great mother…” you mumble to yourself, a smile creeping up to your face even though your leg still hurt horribly.

The forest was just as beautiful as the ocean, except you were sure this was much more you. The glowing colors, the ground that lit up when you stepped on it, the soft woodsprites that floated above you, it all made your heart flutter with happiness. You loved it here.

Just then, you heard the sound of a twig snapping behind you and your head turned that way, your eyes widening with a slight fear as you watched the male Na’vi emerge from the trees. He looked much different then you but he was definitely young. His skin was a dark shade of blue and his arms weren’t as thick as your own, much less his tail either. You watched as he held his bow toward you, ready to release its arrow if you made one wrong move.

Lo’ak had never seen such a different Na’vi before. Your hair was much longer then the woman’s in his clan and your body was also much more stronger looking. Your eyes were a blue color which caught him off guard, seeing as most if not all Na’vi shared the same eye color. “Who are you” It sounded more of a demand then a question but you quickly answer anyway, not wanting to pick a fight with one of the clan members already. “You are different. Not one of us”

“I’m not here to hurt anyone, I just I-“

“That wasn’t my question” He remarks making you sigh, nodding your head before removing all of your weapons from your body even though he didn’t ask. You hoped the boy saw this as a peace offering, due to the simple fact you could’ve easily killed him if you wanted to. He was small while you were a strong warrior, even at the age of 16. “Who are you!”

“My name is Y/N and I… I-“ Suddenly, you felt like your chest had been closing in on you, like you could feel every breath you took as if you were back under that clanless Na’vi from earlier. You look at the boy for only a second before your knees are pressed to the ground, his voice ringing through your ears as your vision blurred.

Lo’ak tried to call to you but got nothing, Dropping his bow to tend to you on the ground. Your body was cold and he could tell just off how pale you had been that you were clearly dehydrated and starved. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave you there, right? You were a harmless girl who only needed some food and a place to stay, he would be a horrible person to leave you all alone.

You couldn’t hear anything he was saying while he scooped your body in his arms, trying to talk to you to calm you down. He had one idea on where to take you but that was about it, and he prayed to Eywa it would work.

Because in that moment, your mind had completely blanked out.

Ehhhh, I don’t like the ending but it’s whatever. I’ll probably edit this later on. Please keep in mind this is a Neteyam fic but he doesn’t enter until next chapter. The focus on Ao’nung and the reader are CRUCIAL to the plot line.

Anywayssssss! Thank you guys so much for reading 💙. Chapter two should be out soon!

Taglist: @mashiromochi @luvagirlsworld @doggyteam2028 @angelsamor @lu-the-ghost-reader (it wouldn’t let me tag some people :/ )

#avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar x you #avatar james cameron #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam fluff #atwow neteyam #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam gif #neteyam angst #neteyam smut

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cienie-isengardu · 9 months

Text

Cracked Mirror of Black, Cold Soul [Chapter 2]

Author notes: Continuation of this, formely posted just as "MK1 Fanfiction".

I'm writing it as Shang Tsung & Bi-Han's sort of friendship but if anyone like it as Bi-Han/Shang Tsung then that's great too. Also, nothing dark/graphic so far, but maybe in future I will go more into Shang Tsung's experiments, poverty and probably a bit depression. Just saying in advance as I'm aware my idea of "not graphic" may vary from other people's.

No enemy has come that day or another nor the next week. Shang Tsung fell back into his routine - studying, training, experimenting, once in a while getting the needed supplies, and then studying more, training more, creating more devious traps to apparently keep a certain cryomancer amused. The books and scrolls kept disappearing and showing up a few days later, even if he did not see Sub-Zero for weeks.

Sometimes there was a note attached to returned volumes. Usually short messages, about Li Mei’s search for him or General Shao’s impatience or a new bounty on their heads or to avoid a specific place at certain times. He read the notes, mesmerized its contents, then burned the paper to not leave any unnecessary loose ends if he ever was forced to abbadon the fortress in a hurry.

Sometimes the note said trivial things. Like under any circumstances do not eat those mushrooms you moron! - and indeed the mushrooms he found in a nearby field disappeared without a trace from his kitchen. Which was truly a shame, for if those truly were toxic he could at least study them to make a new poison or maybe even magic potion or two. More often than not though the message was clean up the mess! which did not amuse him at all. A bit of blood here and there and a misplaced organ or two and everyone was a critic these days. Like it was his fault the creative process at times got messy. No genius was even truly understood and in such moments he did miss Damashi, her kind hand on his back, the melodic voice encouraging him to transcend the boundaries of already possessed knowledge.

Sub-Zero sounded more like a mother hen than a deadly warrior and Shang Tsung for sure did not need anyone mothering him. He was a grown up man, he survived living in Outworld’s wild, uncaring hinterlands alone for hundredth of years, he did not need anyone’s help nor care. It was a matter of pride but also the bitter taste of betrayal that held him back from trusting anyone ever again.

He left his own notes then.

Stop fussing, I knew the mushrooms were poisonous, even though he had no idea, as he had never heard of poisonous mushrooms before. There were plenty of dangerous places in Outworld yet not many uneatable things to worry about. And sure, the fungus looked funny, with nice red caps and pretty white dots, like snow that embellished blood pool, which was specifically a reason why he picked it up in the first place. But why should he not, if the island was part of the Edenia realm and the mainland not so far away? The climatic zone was correct, the ruins were covered with Edenian letters even if the words made little sense to him. As far as he managed to check, he did not find any unusual plants here, no new animal species. Up to this moment, he had no reason to worry about flora and fauna surrounding him as nothing stood out… well, maybe beside the one white pigeon that so eagerly cooed at the sight of him and as it turned out, the funny mushrooms he found by accident and collected on impulse. The sense of danger did not cross his mind and if not Sub-Zero’s warning, he would eat the mushrooms soon. Maybe the edenian blood would neutralize the toxins that Earthrealmer was so concerned about, or maybe not. Now, he had no means to test it one way or another. Begrudgingly he accepted that Lin Kuei potentially saved, if not his life from food poisoning then at least his dignity, but the man did not need to know that.

The note disappeared the day he wrote it, alongside a few scrolls. A week later the paper showed up in the same spot with additional DID YOU?, and even the carefully calligraphed few edenian letters sneered at him mockingly. The rush of blood burned his cheeks and he did not need the mirror to know how red his face was. Out of anger, pure anger, not embarrassment, he told himself firmly while the note turned into ash in his hand. He wanted to burn much more and he would do so, if not the book on which note was left.

Shang Tsung stared at the thick book with a deeply red cover, pondering whether he should open it and bear the reason why the annoying Earthrealm left it there or just fed the flames of hearth with that blasted thing. It didn't matter what was inside the book, only how to not lose the weird game they played for weeks, with no rules and no clear idea who was actually winning. Losing never sat well with him and yet he couldn’t help himself than take a chance, any chance, to prove how better, smarter he was compared to others. And Sub-Zero clearly was exploiting that weakness, slowly and deliberately with each little note, each little sharp remark and additional subtext hidden in black ink, in elegant shape of letter.

The man mocked him and challenged and Shang Tsung loved that game and cursed it in the same breath. The island was a wonderful sanctuary as much as a lonely, dark place and Sub-Zero, whatever the man knew or not, brought so needed entertainment to keep the sorcerer from going mad. Not that Shang Tsung would ever admit that aloud but fact remained a fact, whether he liked it or not.

The book was definitely not made in Outworld. It was not even a matter of unfamiliar letters but the whole texture of deeply red cover and snowy-white pages inside. Once opened, it smelled of ink but not like the yellowed, hand-written books did. To his own surprise, the smell reminded him of freshness, something new and still unspoiled, so it couldn’t be a second-handed volume either. This pleased him, more than it should. Before Damashi walked into his life, he rarely could afford to buy good quality items; the tailored robes and beautifully illustrated books were always out of his reach. How many times he stared at the richness of colors, how many times inhaled the storm of unique, unknown smells when he passed the small town’s market only to turn away from each stall? When a person needed to choose between food or new shoes for he could afford only one, it was no choice at all. The basic needs always processed anything frivolous, for luxury was nothing more than just a sweet dream to lull the poorest to sleep and torment them by day.

Shang Tsung now had the money and means to spoil himself with the best; the finest food and sweetest wine, the most soft fabrics and tailored robes, the expansive magic ingredients he dreamed of having as a child. So of course fate spit into his face, as now the gold meant nothing. Only the power he held mattered. The same power now threatened by Fire Lord and Empress Mileena and even by his maybe-still-maybe-not allies.

A warmth spread through his cold, bitter soul at the mere thought the book was brand new and brought specially for him. Even if Sub-Zero did so only to scoff at him, to mock, he still went with the finest gift and not some rubbish. The gesture touched him, surprisingly deeply. Not many people these days bothered to spoil him a bit here and there.

Encouraged by the treacherous feeling, he opened the book on the first page and slowly started examining its content. He couldn’t read it though, as Damashi taught him only how to speak Earthrealm’s most common languages - the one similar to Edenian and the so-called English that tasted weird on his tongue whenever he was forced to use it. Damashi promised soon it would be irrelevant knowledge anyway, so he did not bother learning the unfamiliar letters. Like all other promises of hers, this one too turned out to be a false prophecy. With each passing day, the choking realization hurt a bit less. Each passing day also proved how much she witholded and weakened him on purpose, how much he needed to learn all those supposedly meaningless little things anyway.

Looking back, how he admired the mysterious woman, how he desired her praise and smile, was such a laughable memory. What an ally she turned out to be! And yet, Damashi taught him everything he knew about true magic and above all else, the final lesson will forever stay with him: to never trust anyone, especially those kind to him.

But… Sub-Zero wasn’t necessarily nice to him and he took as much as he gave, considering the rate at which books and precious scrolls disappeared all the time. There was no promise of great power, no sweet praise to make Shang Tsung starve for more attention. The man barely interacted with him in person, more interested in knowledge hidden between yellow pages than what Shang Tsung could do for him. A fair deal, a secret for secret, as apparently Sub-Zero liked to collect those, even the most trivial ones and he did bring a lot of important news to the sorcerer in exchange.

It wasn’t a kindness, Shang Tsung hummed to himself, just the fairest deal he ever made.

And who could know where this little deal will take them in future? Honestly has never been his forte while Lin Kuei Grandmaster was as straightforward as a killer could be anyway. And yet so far they balanced well between a little sweet lie here and brutal truth there. No matter how many times he asked, Sub-Zero did not reveal how he found the island nor how he got in and out of there, the same as Shang Tsung never spoke about his experiments done in the laboratory. They just accepted the unspoken agreement as it was, for now at least, and he cherished the weird comfort of having someone around while also not being directly questioned with the endless list of why, when, if.

The book felt heavy in his hand - heavier than it had right to be for with offered knowledge came a pitiful hope.

Maybe Sub-Zero could, if not outright teach, then at least help him to learn Earthrealm letters… if the words found a way to slip through the tight throat and clenched teeth. Asking for help was, in his experience, a sign of weakness he couldn’t afford. Yet he couldn’t afford to stay ignorant either, and the beautiful book held in hands tempted with promises of great knowledge - if he could read it.

Not for the first time he wondered why Sub-Zero wrote all the little notes left for Shang Tsung in the sorcerer’s own language. After the first time seeing the familiar letters of his native dialect in elegant yet unknown handwriting, he figured out that Lin Kuei already checked out his background and gathered all that was out there to learn from; to steal secrets and maybe even blackmail him if needed. Shang Tsung was not concerned about it, as there was not much to collect. A pitiful life of a lone salesman left little to remember about in the minds of common folks. Even if Lin Kuei managed to track down his former clients, those naive, desperate fools from all Outworld hinterlands, all they would learn was the obvious truth: the old-him was a fraud, a cheater, a loser never loved or missed even by his own folks.

Lin Kuei could learn more from his time at Sindel’s court, however Empress Mileena waged war on them. Not that it stopped Sub-Zero and his men from slipping into capitol, in her own palace, but some secrets still were out of their reach, at least for now.

The only question left was if Sub-Zero knew the sorcerer couldn’t read Earthrealm’s letters and indulge Shang Tsung out of pragmatism? Or was that matter of courtesy, some good manners that mattered to Grandmaster enough to bother? The sorcerer did not like the uncertainty but he couldn’t ask, not yet, for asking meant admitting great lacking in his worldly education. Even worse, admitting the Lin Kuei Grandmaster - anyone - was better than him, and it didn’t matter how trivial such superiority was.

Shang Tsung could bear Royal Family and Liu Kang’s Champions mockery and hate without blinking an eye, but he would faster swallow his own tongue than allow his maybe-maybe-not ally to think he was the lesser one in their partnership.

But why Grandmaster didn’t just write the next messages in English or any other Earthrealm’s language to test Shang Tsung and then to mock his illiteracy? Why not push and push, until he couldn’t lie anymore and needed to admit defeat? Why did the man spared him the humiliation when even his own, godly-self had no mercy?

It was the riddle that bothered Shang Tsung the most. Not the uncertainty itself, but faint yet no less warm hope that, despite bitter memories, filled his cold, black soul.

Kindness was a dangerous, treachery tool that could hurt much more than open mockery. He did not want to feel that pain ever again. And yet, like a fool he was, Shang Tsung craved it more than the finest food or wine. To be acknowledged as something more than just a pitiful, poor copy of another, greater sorcerer - to be treated like his own entity worth someone’s time and effort.

He craved it and how could he not, when the book, though definitely of Earthrealm origin, didn’t feel like a cruel joke?

Yes, he could not read it, as the letters were unfamiliar, but there was a mark in each corner and, as he guessed, the skull placed there meant he was not allowed to eat the mushroom present on the page. Yes, he could not learn the secrets hidden between letters, but each page had its own stunning illustration. The pictures were so realistic, like he was looking at mushrooms just found in the forest or an open field. He had no idea what magic it was, but the illustrations were so gorgeous and bright with colors he had never seen in any Outworld book before. It needed to be magic, for those couldn’t be drawn, as the texture of the paper was... slippery under his fingers, but in a nice way.

The book was only about mushrooms, and yet each new page made his blood rush faster through the veins, heart beating strongly. When did he feel so good holding a book last time? He could not remember.

(A lie. He did remember. It was the same excitement he felt when Damashi for the first time showed him an old volume about elements to explain what magic is, how to draw it from the world around. It was also the first time she mentioned cryomancers, that they were real people and not some demons from old, almost forgotten legends. When he asked, intimidated by his own boldness, if he would have a chance to meet any, Damashi laughed, a sparkling laugh full of approval that he fell head over heels in love with. She promised he will, soon, and it was one of few promises she kept.)

Somehow halfway through the book, the red capped, speckled with white dots mushroom proudly showed up on page. Oh, he knew that one pretty well now, even if he had no idea how Earthrealm’s fungus got so far away from its native environment... But that thought faded right away, as the thing that held all his attention now was a small note stuck to the paper under the illustration. The elegant, familiar letter said ARE YOU STILL MAD?

Yes, he wanted to say, to write it back on paper and stick to their usual place for notes. But the treacherous chuckle broke free before he could do any of it. To know how well Sub-Zero knew him despite barely talking to each other should freeze his blood. Yet all he felt was the weird warmness. Cryomancer should not make one feel cozy, not when a mere hour ago the bastard mockingly questioned his knowledge.

Was that… apology?

No, it didn’t feel like that. For apology meant regretting and he still wasn’t sure if the man was capable of feeling guilt. Anger? Yes. Excitement at a challenge? Definitely. Regrets? Even if so, Shang Tsung did not notice that and he was usually good at exploiting such weakness in people around him.

Maybe it was just cryomancer’s way to… well, Shang Tsung had no idea. It made him feel better though. So no, he was not mad anymore even if he probably should be at least annoyed.

He knew though from on, whenever he would see the red-capped mushroom, he would always think about this book, the little note and one cryomancer that made him laugh despite himself.

The little skull in the corner stared at him all-knowing. Thoughtlessly, he touched it with his finger, enjoying the cold, slippery feeling of paper. He liked skulls, always had. Maybe he should figure out how to reshape his magic blasts to resemble the skulls? Wouldn’t that be something unique, just his and only his?

Suddenly, the book was a thousand ways better than it was already. What else could Earthrealm offer him? What secrets and inspiration was there to seek and use for his gain?

He grinned, all sharp teeths and gleam in eye. Maybe, if he played their little game well or bargained enough, Sub-Zero could bring him a similar quality atlas but for Earthrealmers’ anatomy? All he needed was the stunning, colorful illustrations and for sure he could figure out everything else on his own. He always wanted to study their enemy’s anatomy but sadly Liu Kang’s pets ran away and trashed his laboratory along the way.

“Are you again thinking about murdering Liu Kang’s Champions?”

If there was one thing about Sub-Zero that annoyed Shang Tsung more than the man’s cold, rude way of speaking, it was the Lin Kuei habit of sneaking on him. It wasn’t annoying just because Sub-Zero caught him doing things that spoil his carefully cultivated image of a devious and powerful sorcerer - like smiling because of book he can’t even read or returning to fortress all wet and miserable when catched by heavy rain or his not best morning moments when disheveled and still sleepy he wanders through the corridors. No, the worst part was how easily the man walked the shadows, like the darkness was his to command.

There was something terrible off about that, even if he couldn’t point down why.

“Maybe” Shang Tsung answered with a bright smile plastered on his face. No reason in admitting to the man how correctly he read his thoughts. Small victory was still a victory and if he was not the winner, he did not like it at all.

Sub-Zero’s left eyebrow rose up, but the man did not comment nor asked about the book in the sorcerer's hands. So their little correspondence about a deadly mushroom was a closed up matter and not worth dwelling on. For now.

Since he rarely had a chance to see his maybe-yes-maybe-not ally these days, Shang Tsung looked him over from head to toe. The man had no visible new scars, nothing to indicate an injury or that he was in any fight at all - even if the sorcerer knew from others that Sub-Zero’s brothers, those pathetic idealists, looked out for him and hunted Lin Kuei like mad dogs. So far to no avail, what pleased him greatly. Cryomancer was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and his foolish brothers still did not figure out who had an upper hand in that strife.

What however didn’t please Shang Tsung, was the bag on the cryomancer’s back. Full of his books. He knew the man was borrowing his precious volumes from the first day Sub-Zero showed up in his new home, but to see him actually taking out the entire stack at once? That was something new.

The saddest thing about the books collected here was their amount. As much as Shang Tsung hated to admit it, for months he barely managed to look through the shelves in his laboratory and there were more rooms, bigger rooms, from the floor to the ceiling, from one wall to another filled with books and scrolls. He had no idea what Sub-Zero was carrying in his bag this time, and even less what the man appropriated already. There was no point in pretending otherwise, as both knew well there were too many books to keep a track on all of them. A truly bothersome problem that cryomancer exploited without a grain of regret.

Like always, the bastard ignored his outraged face, then adjusted his bag and walked away without even saying a goodbye or fuck you. The nerve of this man knew no bounds.

“If you have time to steal my precious books then you could at least bring me something nice to eat!”, he shouted after the man before Sub-Zero disappeared in the shadows enveloping the cold corridor. Not because it could change anything but to have at least the last word.

Out of the darkness flew something small. He catched it without thinking, all reflex and curiosity. It was an apple, red and fresh, definitely not plucked from a tree on the island. Cold to the touch but not cold enough to frostbite his fingers.

On one side bitten.

He should be mad at Sub-Zero, and yet the laugh filled his lungs. Well, at least the bastard did not ignore him completely.

It was indeed a great progress.

(In the deepest part of the soul, where bitterness lingered like venom, Damashi’s voice mocked him how weak he was, how needy to cling to cold, uncaring Sub-Zero. How stupid to think anyone could bother to deal with him out of sympathy and not to use him like the pitiful tool he was. How despite everything, Shang Tsung learned nothing.

The bitterness choked him whenever he read left by Lin Kuei Grandmaster notes, whenever the man warned him about danger awaiting beyond the island’s boundaries or complained about the mess, even now, when the beautiful, deeply red covered book weighed in his hands. It was hard to ignore Damashi’s voice when it sounded like his own. But a snake should not choke on its own venom, shouldn’t he?)

Author notes#2:

Like the last time, it is mainly my character study of Shang Tsung and I'm on purpose not writing him how I would normally write one from previous timelines. I enjoy to explore how Damashi and her betrayal had a great impact on him. He is the "in progress" version, not yet the savvy, brilliant sorcerer but trying hard to be seen like that. Bi-Han so far is there mainly for the books XD

I also like to imagine there is some connection between Edenian language and one of Chinese dialect, while English and its letters is totally something new for Shang Tsung. Just solely to avoid everyone speak the same language despite living in different realms. Lin Kuei were taught Outworld language(s) so they could do the dirty job better. Hopefully I did not bore you too much.

This part was about the mushroom note. Next one should be about the mess called Shang Tsung's laboratory :)

#mortal kombat #bi han & shang tsung #shang tsung #bi han #sub zero #cienie's fanfics #Cracked Mirror of Black Cold Soul #character study of one messed up sorcerer #bi han so far is there mainly for the books XDDD

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borrowedtimeandspace · 1 year

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Fate Is Kind

4. Stargazing

From this list of gt prompts

AU: To The Nines (Nine AU); set after The Vanishing Box, immediately after Zepheera agrees to travel with the Doctor.

~~~

"Right, then! Your choice, Zepheera: where do you want to go?"

Zepheera was at a loss. While she and the Doctor had decided to put the time aspect of their travels second, since at nearly 80 years old she had spent quite a lot of her life watching the world around her change. She was also fully aware that she had only inhabited a small corner of the wider world, well-traveled as she was for a borrower. She hardly knew where to begin.

"I… we can go anywhere in the whole world?" Zepheera reiterated.

The Doctor's patient smile widened to a proper grin as he clarified, "Anywhere at all in the universe."

"Universe…" Zepheera breathed. She knew the word, having lived alongside humans for so long, but this was the first time she'd been made to grapple with its meaning.

Sensing this, the Doctor held out a hand for the tiny woman to step onto from her perch on the console. "Come here. I'll show you."

Zepheera complied, intrigued. The Time Lord deposited her into his shoulder to free up his hands, and then Zepheera had to cling to the leather lapel of his jacket as he began piloting the TARDIS. The console room rattled only for a moment before going still; he didn't need to fly far to get his point across.

"Deep breath," he said as he walked down to the TARDIS doors, his tone light enough to give Zepheera the impression that it wasn't so much a warning of danger. More of a reminder that she had no idea what she was about to witness, and to prepare herself as best as she could.

She breathed in slow, and out slow. "I'm ready."

That might have felt true when she said it, but nothing could have made her ready to see what was on the other side of those doors.

Zepheera, all four and a half inches of her, had to look down to find the Earth. She felt her stomach flip to find it so far below. It took her a moment of recovery to make the connection of what she was looking at, to images and models of the globe that she'd seen in passing throughout her life. Oceans. Landmasses. Storms. Ice caps.

The world.

If that wasn't enough, the rest wasn't any less overwhelming. It was like the night sky, deeper and darker than she could ever have imagined, and yet shimmering with thousands upon thousands of stars. So many more than Zepheera had ever seen before.

All previous vertigo faded away, replaced with a vivid memory that Zepheera hadn't thought about in ages. Back when she was just a kid, barely into her teenage years, and her uncle… her surrogate father, Boston, took her up to see the night sky for the first time.

“Which star am I supposed to wish on?” she’d asked him.

Perking up, Zepheera tugged excitedly on the Doctor’s lapel. “Where’s home?”

“Eh?”

“I know where I want to go, but I need to find it. Where did we come from?”

Zepheera clung once again as the Doctor leaned slightly out of the doors, pointing down toward the globe below. “Northern hemisphere, see that little island glowing in the dark?”

Hoping for a better look, Zepheera skirted around the back of the Doctor’s collar to the opposite shoulder, and had started to follow the path his arm made when walking very suddenly became quite difficult. Like someone cut an invisible tether that made sure she could stay grounded in each step.

“Oi! Careful!” the Doctor chided, reaching out his other hand to cup around the borrower to keep her from floating off. “I’ve extended the air shell, but just because you’re protected from the vacuum of space doesn’t mean you won’t float off!”

When Zepheera glanced back at him with a rather apprehensive look, the Doctor realized that she didn’t have a clue about the dangers of space. “Oh. Right, well… just don’t run ‘round like that for a while, not til you’re used to all this.”

She nodded, steadying herself against the Doctor’s hand as she once again found the island he’d indicated, then turned to search the neverending expanse of stars for just the right one. Zepheera tried to find the right angle, see which stars she would have been looking toward all those years ago.

“There!” Zepheera pointed to a cluster of stars that were unmistakably the same ones, albeit from a different angle than she was used to. When she was a kid, it looked like a fishhook to her, and right at the bottom of it, where a line would be tied if it were a real one… There was the star that she had made a wish on. A wish that was finally coming true after 65 years.

Please take me far away from here…

Zepheera’s hopeful violet gaze turned to meet the Doctor’s. “Can we go there?”

Following her finger, the Doctor’s smile began to return as he recognized that particular star. “The heart of the lion,” he mused. “Oh, I know exactly where to take you.”

“The what?” Zepheera wondered, clinging to one of the Doctor’s fingers as he leaned back into the TARDIS. It was a bizarre sensation to feel weight return to her body once they crossed the threshold.

“Humans call shapes in star systems constellations,” he explained while he deposited Zepheera back to the shoulder she started out on. “They called that one Leo, because it’s sort of shaped like a lion…”

The doors of the TARDIS creaked shut as the pair of travelers disappeared inside, and before long it began to vanish in time with the most wonderful sound in the universe.

#gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #to the nines #nine AU #TTN: a BTaS AU #Zepheera #ninth doctor #doctor who crossover #the borrowers #borrowers crossover #giant #tiny #giant tiny #gt #g/t #fluff #doctor who gt #doctor who g/t

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macadoodlewrites · 2 years

Text

Dangerous Love - Part One (Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader)

Summary: Avery Routledge is John B's cousin, and she has just moved to the OBX - just in time for a treasure hunt. But with John B keeping secrets in order to protect her, he pushes her into the arms of the Kook King. She becomes tangled with none other than Rafe Cameron, but will she realise how damaged he is before it is too late, or will he ruin her before she can get away?

Warnings: death, smut, dub-con, toxic behaviour, abuse, kidnapping, non-con

Ships: Rafe Cameron x OC, minor!JJ x OC

Hi everyone! This story will take place starting from the beginning of season one, and will partially stick to the original plot, but will take far more interest in Rafe and his doings. There will be a few minor detail's that have been changed for this story's purposes so please don't read into it too much. Enjoy :)

Main Masterlist

Dangerous Love Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

The Outer Banks. Kildare Island. The Cut and Figure Eight.

Over the years, I had visited countless times to see my cousin, John B, and my uncle, always choosing to spend my summers in the OBX rather than at home. Paradise on earth was what John B called it, and I couldn’t help but agree with him – endless parties, beautiful sunsets, and most importantly, my friends, The Pogues. The only family that I cared for.

But this time was different. This time I was not visiting for the summer. No, this time it was permanent. I had turned eighteen a matter of months ago and had been waiting for the right chance to pack up my things and leave my childhood home, and that opportunity had presented itself last night. Enough had been enough, and my mother and her boyfriend were now people of the past and could never hurt me again — no, I didn’t want to dwell on what had happened the night before. Today was a fresh start and the first day of my new life.

My father, Teddy, was supposed to be John B’s legal guardian, appointed after my Uncle John had disappeared at sea nine months ago. Unfortunately, my father was not a man who could be labelled as either reliable or responsible, and had never been around for me; there had been no chance that he was ever going to help John B. The last I had heard, he was building houses down in Mississippi. I’d been left behind.

Last night I had snuck out in the middle of the night, the world dark and asleep as I had hopped on the midnight bus, then another, until I reached the port and caught the next available ferry. On the way, I had phoned John B, and he had not asked any questions despite my sudden and abrupt departure from home and instead had told me that he would prepare the spare bedroom at The Chateau for my arrival. Apparently, only a couple of days ago, a hurricane by the name of Agatha had hit the island and stopped all the boats, so I guess I had been fortunate in the day I had chosen to leave.

And leave I had. I stepped off the ferry, tugging my white rucksack tightly over my shoulders and grabbing one of my suitcases in each hand. John B was due to pick me up at three o’clock. I checked my watch as I walked. Ten to three. Walking along the long wooden board walk to the beach, I could see that both John B and The Twinkie were nowhere in sight. The remaining passengers of the ferry walked alongside me and continued their journeys onwards as I stopped at the sandy beach. As I looked up at the cerulean sky, and then at the expensive houses and buildings, I finally felt the knot in my stomach unravel. I was here – my mother couldn’t come and get me; her boyfriend could never drag me back.

From my previous visits, I knew that the ferries always pulled up to the luxurious side of the island. Figure Eight. The Kooks lived here. This was not where I would be living. I dug my suitcases securely into the deep sand, and sat down on one of them, looking around at the people getting on with their lives, driving home, seeing friends, working their jobs on the pier —

“You look lost,” a male voice said from behind me. I twisted in my makeshift seat. Stood a few paces behind me, leaning against an expensive looking motorbike, was a boy – well, a man. He looked around my age, maybe a year or two older. Dirty blond hair was loose around his head in curtains, a few strands falling in front of his eyes which were covered by sunglasses, and he was wearing a peach-coloured polo shirt, branded with a high-end logo, and white shorts. The outfit and his relaxed, easy posture all screamed money. Despite his eyes being covered, I could feel him scrutinising my outfit – faded, blue jeans, a burgundy tank top, my usual necklaces, and a cream cardigan – which was all entirely wrong for the heat. “You’re either a tourist or on the wrong side of the island.”

Choosing to brush off his statement, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m waiting for someone to come and pick me up. My ferry arrived early.”

“How early?” he asked, copying me and crossing his own arms.

“I’m sorry?”

“How early did the ferry arrive?”

“Not that it is any of your business, but ten minutes. I’m sure that my ride will be here in any minute.”

“Well, whilst you’re waiting, would you like some company? My friends are also running late.”

I had not grown up here in the Outer Banks, but I knew all about the Pogues versus Kooks rivalry, and this boy was certainly a Kook. He had clearly seen my suitcases and decided that I was a tourist rather than a Pogue if his offer of company was anything to go by. But what harm could some company do? If I had ten minutes to kill, why not with this Kook?

“Sure,” I said, offering a small smile. “Why don’t you tell me about the island? I’m guessing that you live here?”

He grinned, revealing perfect white teeth, and pushed himself off his motorbike. He started to walk towards me, long, tanned legs covering the short distance within a handful of footsteps, and without invitation, he sat on my other suitcase. “I do. This is Figure Eight. You’ll want to stay on the northside of Kildare Island whilst you’re here, and away from the south,” he replied. “How long are you staying for?”

My smile tightened. “I’ll be here awhile. This place practically feels like home already.”

Finally, he removed his sunglasses, revealing blue eyes shaded by long, golden eyelashes. “Well then, welcome to the Outer Banks…”

“Avery,” I filled in, and held my hand out. He took my hand in his, skin warm against mine – I noticed a large, golden signet ring on his index finger.

“I’m Rafe.” He did not make a move to pull his hand back, and neither did I as my eyes met his. They were a startling cornflower blue, summery and clear, the opposite of my own hazel autumn ones.

Rafe opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by a loud raring noise, and two bikes skidding up either side of us. He let my hand go as a boy got off each bike. I stood up off my suitcase, now slightly uncomfortable. One Kook was fine, three was not. I was hardly scared, but I had heard many stories over the years from John B, Pope, JJ, and Kie about how territorial the Kooks could be when a Pogue or an outsider was on their side of the island.

I still had anonymity on my side, but John B would be here any minute…

“I should get going,” I said, lifting the suitcase of my handle. Rafe remained on my other one.

“Who’s this?” one of the boys – the golden haired one – asked, looking me up and down with distaste. I moved backwards.

“This is Avery,” Rafe said. “She was keeping me entertained whilst I had to wait for you two boneheads.” His eyes were still on me, and I averted my own. “Avery, this is Topper and Kelce.”

“Nice to meet you both, but like I said, I should get going,” I mumbled.

“Your ride isn’t here yet,” Rafe commented, and I looked at him again. He was no longer smiling, but one side of his mouth was quirked upwards. “We can wait here with you.”

“It’s fine, really.” Never before had I been so grateful for John B’s unrelenting tardiness. Many times over the years, I had patched up him and JJ after their encounters with the Kooks, and it was not something that I wanted to do today.

"Come on, Avery-"

"She said she's fine, man," said Topper grumpily. "It's Figure Eight, not The Cut. Nothing bad is going to happen."

"And we're going to be late for our reservation," Kelce chimed in.

Stopping myself from rolling my eyes, I smiled weakly at Topper encouraging him to go on. Rafe finally shrugged as Topper continued to urge him.

“Alright,” he relented, finally standing from my second suitcase. He lifted the handle and leaned it towards me. “It was good to meet you, Avery.”

“You too, Rafe,” I replied, taking my suitcase. Topper and Kelce climbed onto their bikes, and started to ride off, but Rafe turned back to me as he started his up.

"Hopefully I'll see you around," he said, and as he kicked his kickstand down, he called, "remember what I said. Stick to this side of the island."

The smile fell from my face completely at his words as I watched him go after his friends. The whole Pogues versus Kook thing was going to take some getting used to, but as soon as I arrived at The Chateau, I could hardly see a reason to head over to Figure Eight anyway.

As if knowing his cue, The Twinkie pulled up, rumbling away, John B at the wheel. I smiled wider than I ever thought I could at him, waving away – I hadn’t seen him since the previous summer, despite the many attempts over the year. My mother never liked me visiting, but Uncle John had always convinced her for the summers. A weekend here and there when I told her that I was away at camp or retreats for my classes were the only other occasions I could get. But things were different now. My mother was out of the picture...

The Twinkie screeched to a halt, and John B jumped out. I ran straight at him, abandoning my suitcases and throwing my rucksack to the ground. His arms were wide, and I leaped into them, wrapping my arms around his neck. Everything from his sea-salt air scent, to the bandana around his neck was familiar. His long arms wrapped around me, and I was suddenly off the ground, being swung around. Tears came to my eyes, but I closed them, willing them away.

Behind us there was more commotion, the sliding of the van doors, and there were then more sets of arms around us. I opened my eyes and could see that Kiara and Pope were hugging us, and JJ was stood only a handful of footsteps behind John B. I released my cousin and gave Kie and Pope separate hugs. “You don’t know how much I have missed you!” Kie exclaimed.

"Sorry we're late, we got caught up in something," said John B.

"Trouble by any chance?” I asked with a laugh.

"Oh, Avi, you know that there is nothing better to get caught up in," chimed in JJ, and slung an arm around my shoulders. The old butterflies that I had always felt around him appeared momentarily at the pit of my stomach, and I continued smiling, wrapping my arm around his slim waist.

"Good news," continued Kie. "We're throwing a kegger tonight and you're the first to receive an invite.”

"And what's the reason for this kegger?" I asked. I watched as the four of them exchanged a not-so-subtle look but chose to ignore it. I’d only just arrived, and I didn’t need to know all of their business. Although with John B, Kie, Pope, and JJ, it was never anything simple...

"Do we really need a reason?" Pope finally said, and before I could speak, John B was grabbing my suitcases, Kiara had my rucksack in her hands, and JJ was putting his other arm around me, pulling me in for a long overdue hug. A tear finally slipped down my cheek.

"What's wrong?" JJ asked, tightening his arm around me.

"Nothing. I just never thought I would get here, you know?"

"Well get used to it, Avery Routledge. You're with me now, and you're home," said John B.

Burying my face in JJ’s shoulder and the soft fabric of his vest, I nodded. We were then all piling into The Twinkie, shockingly out of place next to the expensive cars surrounding it and set off to the other side of Kildare Island. Rafe’s warning could be damned. I was a Pogue now, and that was all that mattered.

NEXT PART

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Note

May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.

author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death

845, i.

Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.

Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.

Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.

"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.

"Soon?"

Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.

"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.

"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.

It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.

Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.

The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.

Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.

Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.

"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."

The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.

The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.

The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.

Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.

Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.

Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.

"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"

846, i.

Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.

It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.

No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.

All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.

Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.

That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.

Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.

The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.

Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.

Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.

Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.

Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.

Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.

"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.

"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.

His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.

Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.

"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.

Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.

"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.

"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."

Relief floods you. He doesn't know.

"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.

"If you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.

Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.

"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"

"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."

"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.

"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.

Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."

Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.

"Sorry-"

"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.

"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.

Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.

846, ii.

Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.

At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.

You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?

Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.

Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.

Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.

"Oi, come here."

Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.

"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.

"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.

Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.

You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.

You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.

"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.

"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.

Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.

847, i.

Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.

The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.

Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?

The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.

Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?

"This was out of your control."

Do you tell him?

The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.

"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.

"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.

The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.

Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.

"Don't."

"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.

"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."

You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.

"Then die."

"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.

He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.

Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.

"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.

"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.

As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.

Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.

That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.

847, ii.

Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.

"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.

"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."

"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.

"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."

"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."

You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.

The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.

Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"

You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.

"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"

Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.

Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.

"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.

"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.

Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.

"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.

"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."

"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."

"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.

"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.

"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.

"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.

"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"

"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.

"Because I worry for you."

"You worry for everyone."

"I worry for you the most."

Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.

"We both know we feel the same."

You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.

That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.

You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.

But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.

Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.

Could your ending be in betrayal?

848, i.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"

"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.

Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.

"Swear you won't die on me."

Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.

“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.

Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.

"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.

"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."

Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.

You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.

Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.

Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.

The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.

Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.

849, i.

Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.

You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.

Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.

849, ii.

You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.

Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.

The memories become increasingly bitter.

"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."

"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.

Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.

"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."

How wrong he was for thinking that.

You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.

850, i.

Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.

Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.

Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.

"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."

You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.

"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.

"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."

Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.

"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.

Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second. It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.

"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.

This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.

But you agree, on the basis of one condition.

"Fine but-"

Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.

"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.

However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.

"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.

Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.

Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.

Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.

His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.

"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.

Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.

850, ii.

Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.

"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.

You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.

He isn't.

"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.

"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.

You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.

"I know." You whisper faintly.

850, iii.

When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.

Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.

But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.

The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.

The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.

"We made the wrong choice."

Erwin can't word it any better than that.

But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.

Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.

He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.

854, i.

Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.

Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful.

Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase.

“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .

“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”

Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.

Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.

That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.

“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.

“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.

“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.

Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.

He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.

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f1united · 3 years

Text

Ensemble - Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Your Arthur Leclercs best friend. So why, after a random night in London, are you falling for his brother?

Chapter One: The Start

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and sex.

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: This chapter begins in London and is marked where it switches to Mykonos. There are then some flashbacks mixed in so just watch out for those. Let me know your thoughts, enjoy!

*****

Chapter Two: The Girl and The Gift

Not long after Pierre had joined your table, Charles emerged from the toilets. Pierre had waved his hands to inform him of his updated location as he sat in the empty seat, unknowingly signing himself up for a night full of girly gossip and drama. The evening was spent reminiscing on childhood memories and sharing stories. It wasn't until Nat checked her phone that you realised how late it was getting.

"We better get going," She announced as she checked her phone. "The last train is in half an hour." You lived just outside of London which meant that most nights out were cut short by trains unless you had booked a hotel. You hummed in agreement as you finished your drink watching as Pierre began to whisper in Lucy's ear. They'd been flirting all night so her next sentence didn't come as much of a surprise.

"I'm going to chill with Pierre for a bit, I'll find my own way home tomorrow" The rest of the girls saw it coming too.

"Are you sure?" Katie asked. "I don't want you ending up in London on your own with no way home." She had a point. London could be quite daunting when it was late and dark, especially if you weren't a local.

"Well why don't you stay too?" Charles nodded his head towards you as he spoke. "That way you could leave together." Not one part of you questioned Charles' intentions as he spoke. He remained the responsible 'Arthur's older brother' that was being sensible and mature, making sure that everyone got home safely.

"If that's alright with you?" Your question was answered with a nod of his head. You all began to grab your things and headed outside, saying your goodbyes, telling them to text you when they were home safe as they encouraged you to do the same. By the time they'd headed for the station, Pierre and Lucy were already nowhere to be seen.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm in no rush to go back to the apartment just yet!" You spoke to Charles as you looked at the night sky above you.

"Where do you want to go in the meantime?"

“Have you ever explored London before?" You answered his question with one of your own. He shook his head. "So you haven't seen all beautiful sites it has to offer." The sarcasm was evident in your voice as you pointed down the alley way you were walking past full of black bins and plastic bags full of rubbish.

"I've only ever been here to celebrate races and I can't say I've seen much other than the inside of some bars and restaurants.”

"Well you're in for a long night Leclerc." Two hours ago Charles wanted nothing more than for him and Pierre to go back to the apartment. The lack of alcohol he'd consumed throughout the night was only adding to the tiredness he'd accumulated over the race weekend. However as you dragged him through the streets of London he realised there was no place he'd rather be.

You'd ridden Boris bikes alongside the River Thames, shown him your favourite restaurant in Covent Garden and taken him through Piccadilly Circus all the way to Oxford Street where closed shops lined the dark streets, pointing out your favourite ones as you cycled past. He never did things like this. As a F1 driver it was difficult for him to go almost anywhere without going unnoticed but tonight not one person had recognised him because for the night he was just a normal person with another normal person having a good time.

After abandoning the Boris bikes at the nearest drop off point you both headed towards the apartment. It belonged to Charles' mother and was often used by you and Arthur whenever he'd come to visit and couldn't stay with you.

"You seem happier than when I last saw you." His comment made you smile. It was all he could think about as you wondered through the dark streets. The last time you'd seen him you'd just broken up with your ex. Your relationship had been on and off for years but you'd finally called it quits for good. It didn't take a genius to see the relationship was making you unhappy, the anxiety, tears and sleepless nights were picked up on by everyone albeit your efforts to hide it. Arthur was the only person who truly knew what was going on and it hurt him to see his best friend in so much pain when she thought she was in love.

"Thank you, I'm in a much better place now. I've had time to focus on myself." You'd completely lost yourself throughout the time you were together, focusing so much on what he'd wanted and expected rather than what made you happy. The situation had increased your maturity and for that reason you were grateful your first heartbreak had come at such a young age. You'd correctly assumed that Arthur had made Charles aware of your sensitiveness to the situation to some extent as he made no further comments.

He had approached Arthur with concern after your last meeting. Despite a fun grand prix weekend you'd been blinking back tears and spent most of the time with a blank expression on your face. He hated it. He could see you trying to compose yourself, when he came to thank you for coming you'd done your best to smile, your voice was laced with excitement, but your eyes were empty, drained of emotion. He was grateful to see it had made its way back.

"Did you know I've never been to Harrods?" His random fact was a relief as he quickly changed the subject, allowing your mind to be brought back to the present rather than the dark times from the past.

"Even I've been to Harrods Charles. We should go tomorrow, you'd have a field day in the clothes section." As a part time student most of your spare money went into savings, a fund you'd created for your planned travels when you were done with your studies. It wasn't very often that you brought yourself nice things so despite your multiple trips to Harrods, you'd never actually purchased anything. You could see him deliberating your suggestion in his head.

"You can wear sunglasses and a hat with your mask, just don't wear a bright red Ferrari top and I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves to ourselves."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" His question brought you back to reality slightly.

"I'll call in sick?" you offered. It suddenly occurred to you that this was the longest time you and Charles had ever been alone together and the idea of leaving wasn't something that you wanted to think about just yet.

Charles opened the apartment door with caution, neither of you wanted to interrupt your friend’s spontaneous night, nor hear any of the antics they were getting up to. You frowned at each other as you stepped into the entrance corridor. There were no faint voices, no mumbling or laughs, just the hum of the city that echoed through the slightly open window.

“Maybe they didn’t come back here,” your judgement became increasingly more likely as you followed Charles towards the kitchen and stood around the island.

“I’ll send him a text.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped away before placing it on the marble countertop. It lit up with Pierre's reply not long after he'd set it down. “They went to some hotel, apparently he’s dropping her home in a second.”

“He’s not the type to bring girls back to his home turf then,” you took the bag off your shoulder and placed in on the counter, grabbing a hair tie from inside and gathering your locks into a low ponytail. “Smart move.” Charles shrugged his shoulders at your observation.

He’d never really thought about it before, but he was the same. The few casual hook ups that he’d had over the years had never been in places he spent a lot of time like his house in Monaco, or his favourite holiday home in Mykonos, and never this apartment. Sure, he’d slept with people in those cities, but never in his space. You were right though; it was easier to forget about the crime if you never returned to the scene.

"Do you have anything I can change into?"

“There’s a top on the end of my bed.” You thanked him as you made your way towards his room. “I’ll grab some of my things so I can crash on the sofa once you’ve changed.” You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him as you stood in the doorway.

“I’m not kicking an f1 driver out of their own bed Charles, especially not post race weekend.” You crossed your arms as you lent against the door frame. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He argued.

“It’s one night Charles, I really don’t mind.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sofa.” He repeated.

“Well then it looks like we’re sharing the bed.” Your words not only surprised you, but also Charles. Neither of you were sure where this increased confidence had come from, but you didn’t want it to become awkward, so you tried to justify your statement. “Me and Arthur used to share a bed all the time!”

The look on his face as your eyes met with his across the room was one you’d so desperately been seeking without realising it. His head cocked, eyebrows raised and small smirk tugging its way onto his lips provided reassurance, giving you the confidence to confirm that this relationship was very different to your one with Arthur. You already knew it, you had felt it every time you’d looked at him since you were about 16, but this was the first time you could say with certainty that it was reciprocated.

Charles was dying to climb into bed with you. To wrap his arms around you and stay like it all night. He didn’t care about the fact that your hair would be in his face or that his arm would most likely be dead within the first half an hour. He just wanted you there with him, so he could learn things about you that he didn’t already know and fall asleep with the scent of your faded perfume beneath his nose. He suggested that he’d sleep on the sofa because he knew that wasn’t what you were implying.

“I’ll stay on my side,” you offered. “Promise.”

That’s what he was afraid of. Charles was a respectful man, he wouldn’t cross boundaries without permission, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without your touch. The thought of your body lying so tantalisingly close to his while dressed in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts was driving him crazy.

“I’m a very good sleeper, you won’t even know I’m there.”

You couldn’t stop listing reasons for Charles to join you. He wished you would stop; his head was already full of so many.

“Well go and get comfy and I’ll join you in a minute,” In that moment he made the decision to give in knowing that if this was the only chance he got to lay in bed with you he'd take the opportunity, whether your bodies were intertwined or not. “Do you need a drink or anything?”

“A water would be great!” You smiled as you turned around and headed to the bedroom. Charles spent the next few minutes alone in the kitchen trying to convince himself that this was a bad idea. That it was wrong. You were his brother’s best friend and he shouldn't be this nervous or excited to lay next to you, but no matter how hard he tried to dislike the situation he couldn’t because it just felt right.

By the time he joined you in bed you’d already made yourself incredibly comfortable. He chuckled at the site of you tangled in the duvet before climbing in next to you. You laid facing each other and remained that way as you chatted about memories from the past. Childhood holidays and his earliest racing days to you latest life plans and hopes for the future. That's how you drifted to sleep, listening to his voice was more comforting than you'd like to admit. When you awoke in the morning you were unsure what terrified you more, the feeling of one of you completely reducing the few centimetres of space left between you or never knowing what Charles’ touch felt like.

*****

Maybe that’s why you were so unimpressed when Charles and Pierre joined the several of you seated around the long table on the patio with two unknown girls. The number of cocktails you’d consumed weren’t providing you with a great amount of rationality but then again it was difficult to justify being annoyed when you had no reason to be in the soberest of situations. The only person to blame was yourself, you’d had the chance to experience a night with Charles and a combination of your stubbornness, maturity and (let’s face it) fear of what could happen had meant that you’d missed out.

It was only as she threw her head back at one of his comments that it hit you, you were jealous. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. Ever since your last relationship you had lacked almost every kind of emotion. You’d dated people since but that connection was never really there which is why you were full of confusion at the situation presenting itself to you. The feelings felt foreign to your body and you weren’t sure how to deal with them, so you did the one think that you were too young to do back then. Get drunk and try to forget about them for a night.

"Are you listening? Drink up, we're leaving in a second!" Arthurs voice provided a distraction from your thoughts whilst encouraging them. You tilted your head back as you finished the remainder of your champagne, your arm was already reaching out for the nearest bottle to see if you could sneak in a quick refill. You didn’t even like champagne but after having run out of cocktails about an hour ago you didn’t really have much choice. In any other situation you would’ve declined and waited until you were at the club but you weren’t really in the mood to sober up right now. You got up to follow everyone to the taxis, deciding that the bottle had too much in to be left at the table to waste, but not enough in that you couldn't finish it before you reached you destination. Putting the bottle to your lips this time, you took another gulp.

He noticed. He noticed the vast amount of alcohol you had consumed thus far. The unbothered façade you'd displayed during dinner was picked up by him the second he’d glanced in your direction. Your eyes often met his across rooms, at events, in the paddock, even at family dinners and it was always followed by a shared smile, but tonight you hadn't even looked at him and he couldn't stand it. Although he couldn’t be certain, he had a good idea what the cause was. Guilt was slowly consuming his thoughts. He shouldn’t have felt guilty, there was no real reason to, yet he did.

He knew if he had come alone you would've had a couple of drinks with dinner, just enough to prepare yourself for the club afterwards, allowing the sweaty people and sticky floor to become slightly bearable. He also knew that you weren't a huge drinker and that the lack of food you had consumed at dinner would only worsen the matter which was evident as he watched you fall into a taxi with Arthur and Carla as he climbed into a separate one with Pierre and, what they appeared to be to everyone else, their ‘dates’.

The club was busy, everyone excited to be back on the dance floor after its absence over the past year or two. Although it would've been nice to spend some more time with him, you were thankful that the crowds had engulfed you so you'd lose sight of Charles and her. You'd found your way to the middle of the dance floor and you remained there for hours losing track of time and somehow your friends too.

Unbeknown to you, Charles had lost his 'date' at the first chance he had. He'd met her on a boat during the day with Pierre and when his best friend had invited her best friend for dinner he felt bad for not doing the same. He was sitting at the bar with Pierre who'd picked up on the amount of attention he was paying you as you danced along with random strangers. The Frenchman questioned what he was doing when he noticed Charles tighten his jaw. Charles nodded his head in your direction and the pair watched as a man approached you.

The guy in front of you was only offering to buy you a drink but you knew you were way over your limit. You'd politely declined, naively assuming that he'd disappear back into the sea of faces but that wasn't the case. Your refusal clearly not accepted as he insisted. grabbing onto your arm in an attempt to pull you in the direction of the bar. Yanking your arm out of his grip you instantly managed to sober up as you came to the realisation you were going to have to fight this battle alone.

Charles knew you were a big girl, that you could handle yourself in almost any situation thrown your way, but as the guy reached out to touch you he could've sworn he moved quicker than his Ferrari. His presence shocked you as you flinched slightly at the unfamiliar grip on your waist.

"It's just me ma belle." Charles whispered calmly into your ear, placing a feather light kiss onto your cheek. Relief instantly washed over your body. You wished you could focus on the conversation that Charles was now having with the strange man in front of you but you couldn't. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your skin heating beneath Charles' fingertips and the tingling sensation that lingered where he'd planted the kiss. He'd never touched you before, the brief hugs being the most contact you'd ever shared, and now he was standing in a club with his hand around your waist as he fended off a random guy who'd taken an interest in you. "I think we should head home." When Charles spoke it felt as though each word was coated in sex as it left his lips. He hadn't meant it in a sexy way, you knew that. He wanted to take you home so you were safe. However his intense grip on your waist and his stubble lightly grazing your cheek when he leaned in to speak to you was putting thoughts into your mind that you knew shouldn't be there.

You looked up at him, your eyes locking for the first time that night. Your eyes always showed a lot of emotion. Your body language was often hard to read but you always made eye contact when you spoke. He frequently used it to determine what mood you were in but this time he was met with one he'd never seen before. Despite them having a drunken glaze, your dilated pupils held a look of lust. He could've sworn you were mentally undressing him. You weren't. Instead you were thinking of how much you wanted him to undress you.

"I think that's a good idea." He could hear the smirk in your voice over the sound of the music as you let your lips gently brush his ear lobe while you spoke. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath in an attempt to pull himself together. You were disappointed when his hand left your side but satisfied when it quickly intertwined itself with yours. His skin was softer than you were expecting, the rough patches slowly disappearing over the summer break. Your hands remained that way as you walked through the streets of Mykonos. Neither of you spoke, you just remained in a comfortable silence. As the villa came into view Charles was basically marching down the street, his strides increasing as your little legs tried to keep up. He dropped your hand when he reached the door, searching his pockets for the key to unlock it.

The villa was colder than you were expecting, a shiver ran down your spine as the air con hit you. You headed towards the kitchen and grabbed your sweater off one of the bar stools, sliding it on over your outfit.

“So you’d let Carla drive your car huh?” his face instantly broke out in a smile as you relieved some of the tension between you both. “You know that’s not true.” Charles followed you to the kitchen and watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the counter. He poured a glass of water and took a sip before handing it to you which you gratefully accepted.

“You’d let your date drive it instead?” He rolled his eyes as he chuckled at your sarcasm, hoping that you’d forgotten about the girl he’d sat next to during dinner as quickly as he had. “How many girls get a turn before me?” Although he didn't let it show, your question had offended him slightly. Despite his popularity with women he was never one to disrespect them, especially not you. He took a step closer to you, standing directly in front of your legs that were pressed firmly together.

“You’re the only one I want to see in that seat mon Cherie,” That was one nickname that he’d never called you, yet it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. He leaned against your legs and you slowly parted them so he could stand in between, closing the distance between you both. “I’d let you drive it again in a heartbeat.” Your eyes were fluttering between his eyes and lips, your stare only breaking when he leaned in to speak in your ear just like he’d done in the club. He placed a kiss on your cheekbone and slowly worked his way up to your ear.

“You looked very sexy behind the wheel of my car.” You locked your hands with his while he continued to speak, closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to try and calm your heart rate down. You wanted to say something back, engage more in the conversation, but for the first time in a long time you were at a loss for words. You loved driving, you'd often join the boys go karting growing up and learned to drive as soon as you could, so when Charles asked if you wanted to drive his Ferrari back to your home after your Harrods shopping trip you were more than excited. It was a nice change from the train ride you were expecting.

He'd watched your eyes light up when you realised he was being serious. It was the closest you'd ever been to driving something even remotely similar to an f1 car despite it being different in so many ways. Your smile was infectious as you put your foot down on the motorway, leaving London behind. You'd never even driven an automatic car so this was a completely new experience. He'd taught you how to use the paddles to manually change gears if you wanted to and how to shift through its different modes as you drove around. The only disappointing part of the journey was reaching your destination, your trip home considerably quicker than you would've wanted. After spending the whole time focused on going fast and not crashing, you'd selfishly not noticed how Charles was feeling throughout the drive.

He'd been trying to keep his eyes trained on the road in front of him but couldn't help steal a glance in your direction every now and then. He was always surrounded by fast cars, something he realised after seeing you sat in his driving seat he'd begun to take for granted. He felt overwhelmed with pride, he was the one who was making you this happy. He felt privileged seeing you this free as your hair flew around in the wind while you rested a hand out the side of the car, trying to resist the force of the air pushing it back. It was his turn to be selfish as he realised that he always wanted to keep that moment for himself. He didn't want anyone else to make you feel like this, give you this experience. He wanted to be the one to make you smile.

“Don’t go quiet now mon Cherie.” That nickname. Again. “I think we still need to discuss what happened in the shower.” You instantly snapped back into reality at the mention of the shower. His hand fell from yours and toyed with the bracelet on your wrist. The one that you nervously played with in situations like these. The one that he’d gifted you last year. The one with his name etched into it.

The morning that you'd woke up in Charles' bed you were alone. An empty bed was something you'd become accustomed to over the past couple of years but in this instance it made you awaken quicker. The note left on his pillow stopped you from worrying, he was out on a run.

You respected his commitment to his career and took the opportunity to go for a shower. The warm water felt refreshing against your skin, goose bumps slowly appearing across your skin at the sudden change in temperature. Rubbing Charles shower gel into your skin you closed eyes and lent your head against the tiled shower wall. It wasn't clear at what point you'd become so aroused, but the steam from the shower and the smell of Charles covering you definitely had something to do with it. You allowed your hands to roam your body, his name unexpectedly falling from your mouth as you brushed past your breasts. The careless use of his name had caused your eyes to widen and your hand to clamp over your mouth. It had left you lips so naturally but felt inappropriate to say aloud.

It wasn't until a few days later that you realised he'd heard. He almost hadn’t. If he’d unlocked the apartment a mere three seconds later your words wouldn’t have reached his ears. His run had been sweaty and he was still out of breath but his panting soon stopped. His eyes widened as he heard his name leave your lips and he froze. He didn’t want to announce his presence, he knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it and didn’t want you to feel embarrassed that he had. He didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he was invading your privacy but knew that if he shut the door you’d hear it close and know he was there. So instead he stuck his foot between the door and the doorframe to keep it slightly open as he waited for the sound of the shower to finish running. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but he failed. All he could think about was you, in his shower, without him and how badly he wanted to join you, just so he could make his name fall from your mouth the way it just did over and over again.

You thought you'd gotten away with it. He'd entered the apartment just as you were stepping out the bathroom and he'd acted as cool as ever. The weekend was slowly becoming a distant memory that you were trying hard not to dwell on, hating that you were missing his presence so much already. It wasn't until you were at work the following week that it became apparent your secret crush was no longer a secret. You were in the office early, earlier than everyone else. That wasn’t unusual, you liked to be in early as it often meant you could leave earlier too. What was unusual was the box placed neatly on your desk.

Although the small parcel was addressed to you, you opened it with hesitation. A small gasp left your lips as your unwrapping revealed a red box, the golden engraving of the word ‘Cartier’ on top. Confused, you gently opened to box revealing a bracelet.

You placed it on your desk as you searched for a note. Despite it being awfully obvious who it was from, you wanted some kind of confirmation or, better yet, a reason as to why someone had put this into your possession. You'd spotted it in Harrods with Charles. You hadn't mentioned it, just spent a few minutes mindlessly staring at its beauty. There was no point even considering buying it for yourself, the price tag was close to your yearly salary. Eventually you found the note.

'I've heard you like to moan it'

You picked up the bracelet once more, analysing it as you did so. It was so discreet, discreet enough that if the note wasn’t a big enough hint you might never have realised. His name. Etched into the inside of the band in the same font as the word ‘Cartier'. Any other name and he wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. No one had picked up on its personalisation in the past year. It had remained your little secret.

You gulped loudly, unsure of what to say next. The dull lighting hid your cheeks as they flushed red with embarrassment, just like they'd done when you'd read his note. Luckily it was situations like these you considered your stubbornness a strength. "All I could thing about was how much I wanted you to touch me Charles." With your lips dangerously close to Charles' ear you'd somehow managed to complete your sentence with confidence. The conviction in your voice had satisfied Charles although it was obvious that he hadn't expected it as he pulled his head back slightly to look you in the eyes. It was the first time you'd seen them so dark out of his crash helmet. They didn't have the same teasing smile paired with them as they did only a few moments ago. For a brief moment your heart dropped. What if he was just teasing you and you'd taken it too far?

"Say something." Your voice was barely audible despite the eerie silence that had settled in the kitchen as Charles picked up on your nervousness. His expression softened but he remained silent, placing his forehead against yours and gently brushing your noses. You both very quickly realised there was no longer the need for words. The last thing either of you wanted to do right now was have a conversation about what was going on because quite honestly neither of you were sure. All you knew was that as soon as the space between your lips closed, there was no going back. You were craving each other's touch and it was as though the kiss you were yet to share would be the seal of approval you both needed to explore each other in a way you hadn't before.

You'd had enough of the teasing, enough of the wondering and what ifs, enough of wasting time without knowing how his lips felt against yours. You moved your head up slightly brushing your lips with his before releasing one of your hands from his grasp and placing it on the back of his head, pulling it down slightly. As soon as your lips pressed against his you became overwhelmed with emotions. You relaxed into it, it felt so right. His hands began to explore your body, one placed on your thigh and the other tracing lines up and down your back, sitting on the counter top had worked in your favour as you wrapped your legs around his waist. It wasn't long before his tongue found yours as you let your hands snake beneath his shirt feeling his back and arms tense beneath you as he lifted you up from the side and placed you on the dining table which was at a slighter lower level.

His mouth left yours and you let out a small groan of frustration, he smiled at the sound as you realised he was only doing it to strip you of the sweater you'd not long ago put on, allowing him to rid you of it, not caring how cold it was anymore. In between the kisses he was placing down your neck you pulled his top over his head. Your eyes were trained to his shoulders as you admired him, only shutting when he re-joined your lips.

The sound of a key turning the lock at the front door caught Charles' attention. There was a high chance he'd consumed less alcohol than you tonight which is why he giggled slightly when you chose to ignore the sound and bring him back in for another kiss.

“WE’RE HOME” Arthur voice echoed round the villa. The sound of his brothers voice was enough for you to release him from your grip.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, it’s 3am people will be sleeping.” Carla tried to whisper but the tiled walls carried the sound throughout the villa. You didn’t know if anyone else was home, you hadn’t checked and to be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. The only thing on your mind was Charles.

“Y/N and I are in the kitchen,” Charles called back. His eyes never left yours as he grabbed his shirt you'd thrown across the kitchen and redressed himself, not until Arthur stumbled through the door way knocking into chairs and making them squeal as the legs glided across the floor. You both watched as he regained balance and muttered a drunken apology before sitting himself on the floor.

"Good night Arthur?" you laughed slightly at the sight of him on the floor, he'd never been the most elegant drunk but at least he was entertaining.

"Great night." He confirmed as he laid himself down, a laugh leaving Carla's lips as she stared at the state of him. If someone had spoken to you a couple of hours ago you would've probably had a different opinion but as it turned out, you were starting to agree with him.

TAGLIST

@imthebadguyyy @abysshaven @phatyak

#f1 imagine #f1 masterlist #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #pierre gasly #lando norris #george russell #lewis hamilton #valteri bottas #carlos sainz

482 notes · View notes

ezraspiderwick · 2 years

Text

Faceless Savior

This is the story about a boy and about the man he would grow to become and the events that led him there, starting with the attack that took place in the little village he used to call home...

Pairing (friendship): kid!Din & kid!OFC

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: His Dark Materials AU (but no need to know anything about HDM though), Din has a daemon, angst, non-graphic violence, wordbuilding, bullying, fighting, original characters, the Mandalorian who saved Din has a name

A/N: Been working on this one for over a month, so this story became very dear to my heart, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to the amazing, the wonderful, the incredible @littlemisspascal for encouraging me to write this and for giving me motivation throughout the process and for beta reading, love you Rae!

MASTERLIST

DUST AND DAEMONS MASTERLIST

This is the story about a boy and about the man he would grow to become and the events that led him there, starting with the attack that took place in the little village he used to call home. Depending on who you ask, the attack on Aq Vetina was unexpected for some, inevitable for others. Aq Vetina was an isolated town rich in copper, built on the coast of a small island on the outskirts of the continent, cut off from any communications with the outside world except for a weekly boat that brought in provisions from the mainland and took the copper away. It was the ideal scenario for an attack.

A group of thirty well-armed men and women sat in the forest waiting for nightfall to make their way into the town. Lives weren’t important to them, the only thing they wanted was to take over the place, not caring at all about the people who crossed their path. As a result, when the attack started, blood was quick to stain their clothes, the red spots growing wider as they made their way into the town center. Upon seeing the massacre on the street, the boy’s parents knew it was only a matter of time until their turn came, but perhaps before that happened they could get their precious little boy to safety.

The boy’s parents rushed to his room where he was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the life-changing event that was taking place outside, his daemon snuggled against him as a cat. The two adults allowed themselves a second to commit this moment to memory, the peaceful image of their kid, who they loved dearly, would give them strength for what they were going to face in the next hour. However, time was running out, so his mom knelt next to him and shook his shoulder gently, doing her best to keep the fear out of her voice as she called his name. The woman’s daemon, a raccoon, mirrored his human’s actions, bopping his nose gently against the sleeping daemon. When the boy blinked his brown eyes open, she informed him they had to leave, that there was not a minute to be wasted.

The man, holding the hands of the still half-asleep boy, ran out of the house. The kid’s brain was trying to make sense of the destruction around him, but it was having a hard time doing so. He thought violence like this only belonged in stories, not real life. His daemon, having changed into the form of a mouse, was safely tucked into his jacket and between the chaos, she murmured encouragements to her human even if she herself was terrified. A rock laying on the floor caused him to stumble and almost fall, however, his father caught him in time, lifting his son up and keeping him in his arms.

The little town had changed from a peaceful sanctuary into a warzone. The places where the boy had chased frogs alongside his friends were now covered in the blood of neighbors, family, and friends. He didn’t know why all of this was happening, but deep down he must have known that things would never be the same, the life he knew and loved was over in spite of him not being ready for that. Even decades later, this moment in his life would seep its way into his nightmares, making him mourn a place that no longer existed over and over again.

The family ran to a small cellar that served as a storage room for the town’s supplies. While the parents wanted nothing more than to stay with their kid, they also felt a sense of duty to defend their home, so after some hastily said goodbyes and some hugs that didn’t last nearly enough, he was ushered inside. “Din, Cornelia, you keep each other safe until we come back, okay?” The boy nodded and so did his daemon who was already changing into a bigger animal, one that could protect them both, never had they been more grateful at the fact that kids’ daemons, unlike adult ones, could change forms.

That night, in a moist underground basement, a boy sat against a polar bear, shivering from cold and from fear, hoping to see his parents soon, a hope that would completely disappear by morning.

“We’ll be okay,” Cornelia whispered to him but through their bond Din could sense she was unsure. A nearby explosion shook the ground underneath them and the boy hugged the bear tighter and a whimper escaped his lips. “We have to be quiet,” she reminded him and nuzzled her face against his in an effort to drown his cries.

“There’s someone here.” A male voice outside the basement’s door startled Din, making him bury himself further into Cornelia’s white coat, a snarl appearing on the daemon’s face. The overhead door opened a few seconds later, making the two of them blink against the sudden brightness, revealing not a mercenary but a Mandalorian. The boy’s jaw dropped open and for a moment all his emotions were replaced with awe. It was every kid’s dream to meet a Mandalorian, and only a few of them were lucky enough to accomplish it.

The Mandalorians were the Magisterium’s elite soldiers, dedicating not only their whole lives but their whole identities to upholding the organization’s rules. But to the eyes of the kids that admired them, they were superheroes, covered in armor so strong most weapons couldn’t even make a dent. They were men strong enough to face anyone that opposed them. So it was no surprise Din felt safe when the familiar helmet showed up in front of him, they were going to be okay.

The Mandalorian knelt down and extended his hand in Din’s direction. “C’mon son, let’s get you out of there.” The boy stood up on Cornelia’s back, reaching the hand easily thanks to the polar bear’s height, and was soon lifted up. The daemon changed into a small bird to get out of the basement and landed on Din’s shoulder, eyeing the Mandalorian’s dog daemon, trying to figure out whether they should place their trust in them. Din, on the other hand, was not paying attention to any of that, mesmerized by the armor in front of him, imagining what it would be like to have his own. “Son, were you alone in there?”

Din nodded. “My parents said they’d come back but they haven’t yet.” The sentence was said with an innocence only a child could have and the next question was said with the hope of someone who hadn’t known suffering. “Have you seen them?”

The Mandalorian looked away and Din’s heart clenched in his chest. In the few years, he had been on earth he had discovered that an adult looking away after a child’s question could only mean they were trying to figure out the best way to explain a difficult situation. “They aren’t coming, are they?”

The man looked visibly relieved at the kid giving him an easy way out. There was no explaining that he was the only survivor in the entire village, there was no asking further questions about his parents so he could promise he’d look for them, fueling false hope along the way, the only thing he had to do was shake his head. “We’ll take you with us, you won’t be alone.” He patted Din’s arm, not really sure how to comfort someone after such news, choosing the path of distraction instead. “What’s your name?”

“Din Djarin,” the boy answered in what could only be described as shock. His brain was still trying to process the attack, the lonely night, the fear, so it had yet to make sense of his parents’ deaths.

“Well Din Djarin, I’m Xisus Crinor and you’re officially under the Mandalorians’ protection. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice was softer, almost a whisper. “I promise.”

On the way to the boat that would take the child to his new home, the Mandalorian tried to shield him from seeing the remnants of the fight. However, it turned out to be an impossible task as the destruction was all around them. The images of burned houses and corpses were going to be seared into his mind for the rest of his life.

Arriving at the boat, Xisus made some quick introductions between the child and the mandalorians there before he guided Din to a place he could sit. He placed a blanket around his shoulders, gave him some water, and promised to be back soon. “I just need you to be brave for a little longer okay?” The child nodded, prompting Xisus to ruffle his hair. “Good boy.”

Din couldn’t be sure of the amount of time that had passed between him arriving on the boat and it sailing away from the place he called home. There were too many emotions inside him and picking them one by one to examine would require energy he didn’t have. So he settled for looking into the sea, wondering what kind of life lay behind it for him. Much to his relief, Xisus came back and sat next to him, encouraging him to lay down on the seat and get some sleep. And so he did, closing his eyes and letting the rocking of the boat drive him to sleep.

And so Din missed the conversation between the man who saved him and another Mandalorian. He didn’t hear that he would make a good addition to the fighting corps, not every kid’s daemon having the ability to turn into an animal as powerful as a bear. He was a little older than they would have liked, but they were hopeful he could learn the way of the mandalorians to one day become one, Xisus promising to guide him along the way.

The boy and his daemon woke up as the boat came to a full stop, opening his eyes he saw Xisus motioning for him to follow him. “Let’s go son, I’ll show you our home.” Although, the man said that with the best intentions, the word felt like a punch to the boy’s gut. Was replacing Aq Vetina, his parents, and friends as simple as this? Could this new place truly become his home? Even with all the questions going around his head, he got up and followed the Mandalorian into the compound.

The place was a collection of buildings that served as homes and training grounds for the soldiers, the Magisterium having spared no expenses when building it. After all, a happy army was an army that kept them in power. Inside the hallways, there were two different groups of people, the ones that wore armor and the ones that didn’t. The first type had a higher rank than the second one as they were giving orders. And among the numerous conversations taking place, there was a set of words repeated numerous times both as greetings and goodbyes.

This is the Way.

The words seemed to be floating everywhere, ready for any person to pick them up and use them at a moment’s notice. However, Din couldn’t distinguish whether they were said as a reminder to the person they were talking to or to themselves. And he didn’t have time to figure it out as he was taken to a room filled with rows of beds with groups of children and teenagers spread throughout the space.

Xisus signaled one of the older boys to approach them, his bird daemon was perched on his shoulder, her eye trained on the newcomers. “Caed this is Din, please show him to a bed.” The man spoke in a gentle yet commanding voice leaving no room for arguments or questions.

“Of course, sir.”

The Mandalorian turned to Din. “Caed here will show you around, okay? I’ll be back soon.” The man did not wait for an answer, being long gone by the time Din processed what was happening. The older boy, Caed, motioned for Din to follow him. As soon as they stepped inside the room everyone’s eyes turned to the pair, the loud conversations turning into whispers. The boy pointed him to a bed at the very back of the room, right beside a wall.

“That one is yours for now. Just because Xisus saved you doesn’t make you a Mandalorian.” He looked him up and down, a disgusted look appearing on his face. “If you think you can become one of us you should think again.” He turned around leaving Din sitting on the bed in despair. Before he had felt some sort of relief at coming here, but he now wanted to be any other place. As his tired brain caught up with the events that had taken place in the last 24 hours, tears filled his eyes no matter how much he tried to stop them from doing so.

Being busy trying to control his emotions and put his inner world in order meant he was oblivious to his surroundings, causing him to jump when a hand was placed on top of his. To his right sat a girl a couple of years older than him, a kind expression on her face. She had brown skin and her brown eyes resembled his own, although unlike him, her hair was long, weaved into multiple braids.

“I’m Theana,” she said as a monkey climbed onto her shoulder, “and this is Midivour.”

Cornelia, having changed into a cat, took a step forward and sniffed the air in Midivour’s direction. The monkey climbed down, moved in front of the other daemon, and extended his hand towards her. The cat bumped her head against his hand, and the two of them stared at each other for a second longer before settling down side by side. His daemon had always been a good judge of character, so even if everything else was uncertain, Din knew he could trust the girl and her daemon. “I’m Din and this is Cornelia.”

“Well, Din, Cornelia,” she gifted them with another smile before continuing, “welcome to the foundlings' room.”

“What’s a foundling?” He had a faint memory of having heard the word before but as much as he tried recalling where it had been, the memories didn’t come.

“We are.” The cheerful expression that had been on her face mere seconds ago was replaced by a somber look. “Foundlings are kids without parents the Mandalorians brought in.”

“So no one here has parents?” Theana shook her head, making Din wonder if everyone’s villages had been attacked and if all the children around them hid while muttering prayers to a god their grandparents told them about. He wondered if they felt empty and sad like him or if those feelings went away with time.

“Hey,” she said, bringing him out of his thoughts, “you’ll be okay, I promise. Just stay away from Caed and his group and you’re gonna be fine.” The girl pointed to the older kid who had interacted with him before. “He thinks he’s better than everyone because his parents were Mandalorians. But he isn’t, he is just like us.” She squeezed his hand and put her smile back on. “You’ll be okay.”

That night when the lights went out Din hugged Cornelia and whispered under the covers for her ears only, “I think we’re going to be okay.”

As the days passed the boy settled into a routine in his new life. He learned the history and the rules the Mandalorians lived by, and in doing so he discovered that the stories he had known about weren’t that accurate. The battles weren’t as magnificent as in the stories but they had fought way more than the kids in his village knew about.

Those stories were told to him by Xisus during their one-on-one training sessions, the man doing his best to help Din gather enough skills so he could join the fighting class with the rest of the foundlings. The first few weeks were spent on self-defense, teaching the child how to dodge attacks and some basic punches he could use in case he ever found himself in trouble. Then they moved on to more complicated moves that Din and Cornelia were quick to learn, prompting the man to be vocal about how proud he was of them, resulting in Caed building resentment against the little boy.

Between teaching Din about Mandalorian history, the battles they won and the ones they lost, and what it meant to live as one of the elite Magisterium’s soldiers, every once in a while Xisus would bring the kid a treat. The boy would put half of it in his pocket so he could share it with Theana, knowing the Mandalorian who rescued her wasn’t remotely interested in spending time or energy on her, much less in bringing her sweets or other special things. When Xisus noticed him putting half of the treat away, he didn’t ask any questions, but instead he started bringing two so that the boy could enjoy all of it without having to worry about saving it for later or for someone else.

The thing Din was most grateful about was that Xisus would ask questions about his past. “It’s important that you remember the place you come from Din. You might be a foundling now but a part of you will always belong to Aq Vetina and to your people and that’s how it’s meant to be.” He’d encouraged him to talk about his parents and while it hurt almost too much to think about them the first few months, over time the boy found himself smiling whenever he talked about how some weekends he’d help his dad fix spaceships and his mother would take his backpack from him while they walked home.

While his bond with Xisus evolved, his bond with Theana did too. The girl adopted him as a younger brother, teaching him how to handle the ropes of the place, who to avoid and who to seek for help, the rules that could be broken, and the rules that could only be bent. To the rest of the world, Theana was quiet and introspective, preferring to be alone, but she allowed Din in her inner world, and for that, he would always be grateful. In a place cluttered with rigid rules, Din might not have realized it then but his new friend was a breath of fresh air.

As the days passed, Din was finally able to join training with the rest of the foundlings, the kids would have the freedom to choose whether to remain in the Mandalorian path or not when they were older but until then they would be trained as one. Which meant early mornings filled with Magisterium teachings, and then evenings charged with physical training. On the first day the boy joined, he found a key difference he had ignored until then regarding Mandalorians.

After lunch, the group split into boys and girls. Din was confused by this so he tried to make his way to Theana in order to ask her what was going on. But before he could a hand was placed on his chest stopping him, looking up he found it belonged to a smug smiling Caed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing.” Din tried to shake the boy’s hand from his chest but Caed wouldn’t give up.

“Do you want your girlfriend to come and save you?” Caed’s mocking tone sent a wave of rage through Theana’s body, the girl took a step toward the two boys, ready to act if necessary. He pushed and Din stumbled backward but managed to steady himself. While Din remembered Xisus’ teachings he also knew he should only use them if he was sure he wanted to hurt someone. And he wasn’t. “Don’t you know girls don’t train dumbass?” He pushed him again prompting him to fall to the floor.

In a second Theana was between them, facing Caed and shielding Din with her body. Cornelia sprinted into action too, turning into a wolf, and growling at Caed’s dog. Midivour mirrored her actions and stood next to them ready to fight. “Came to protect your little boyfriend?”

“Do you enjoy fighting with people who are smaller than you?” She took a step forward and pushed him but Caed was strong and he didn’t move or flinch.

“Should have known that’s the best you could do, after all, you’re a girl.” Everything happened quickly, Caed didn’t even have time to react as Theana’s fist hit his nose and sent him flying to the floor, his daemon backing down too as the pain got to her through her bond with the boy.

“A girl who just knocked you on your ass,” she whispered under her breath and knelt next to Din to make sure he was alright. The rest of the kids were staring at them, most of them with admiration written on their faces, having wanted to do that to him for a long time. “We need to leave now Din, we don’t want to be here when the teacher shows up.” Din nodded and stood up with Theana’s help, still a little dizzy from the fall.

The boy followed his friend through the building’s multiple hallways until they found a small opening on a fence that led outside. Once there, they went to a secluded garden, that might have been planned to be part of the compound at some point but it had been long forgotten, the plants were overgrown, having reclaimed the benches and the statue in the center of it and they sat against a tree while their daemons explored the surroundings.

After a couple of minutes in silence during which Din’s expression became more and more worried, Theana finally spoke. “What’s going on in there?” She playfully tapped his forehead.

“He’ll tell on us,” the boy’s voice was barely a whisper as he tried to fight back the tears that threatened to come out.

“He won’t.” There was no hesitation in her voice.

“How can you be sure?”

“Do you think Caed will tell someone he was beaten by a girl and a younger boy?” Theana was gracious enough to include him even though all he had done was lay on the floor while she fought for the two of them.

“What about the rest?”

“Most of them are happy he was punched and the remaining few won’t do it out of fear of what he’d do to them.” She stood up and offered him her hand. “Now go to the training session, they’re going to get suspicious if you don’t show up.”

“I’m sorry you can’t come.”

“Doesn’t matter, I already know how to fight,” she smirked and climbed on a bench, opening her arms and spinning around.

“Aren’t you going to go to your classes?”

“I don’t care about what they think a girl should learn. Sewing and cooking are not what I want to do.” She jumped off the bench. “Go. I’ll see you tonight.”

The girl stayed in her favorite part of their small world and enjoyed nature while the boy went to training, making it a point to avoid Caed and his group. At night, when he returned he taught Theana every single thing he had learned, vowing to share all the knowledge he acquired with her. Although she wasn’t sure at first, this became their little routine, while the rest of the kids went out to dinner, they’d have a training session, sneaking into the abandoned garden. And so Din taught his friend how to be a Mandalorian even if it was against the code. She was strong, intelligent, and caring, she deserved to be one.

“When Midivour settles you can show them your abilities, they’ll be so surprised they’ll give you a helmet. And then both of us will be Mandalorians,” Din said one night after training was done. The girl didn’t have the heart to tell him that would never happen so instead she put on her best smile and much to Din’s happiness she nodded in agreement.

The day that Xisus died in battle was the day that would reaffirm Din’s decision to become a Mandalorian. But before that happened he found himself with immense grief, just like the day his parents had died, grief no child should carry once let alone twice. When the news made its way across the compound Din hid in the only place he could truly call his, the abandoned garden, making it clear to Theana that he wanted to be alone. The girl respected his wishes and stayed behind, feeling grateful that the Mandalorian who saved her never cared about her, she couldn’t bear gaining another father just to lose him.

Din wasn’t sure what to feel, feeling sad about losing Xisus felt like a betrayal to his parents, even if it hurt the same. Was he allowed to feel this way? Was he allowed to grieve for a man that was not blood-related as if he had been? Maybe that’s why Mandalorians used helmets, perhaps it was impossible to hide your emotions from yourself but you could keep others from seeing them. At that moment Din longed for a helmet to cower behind.

“It’s okay Din.” Cornelia had changed into a polar bear again, her usual animal for when he needed comfort. The child buried himself into her fur and wept, crying for the man he had just lost, crying for his parents who he still missed, and for the peaceful life he once had. “We’ll be okay, I promise.”

The funeral took place in the afternoon, there were no heartfelt speeches or goodbye songs, just a military salute as the casket was presented. And then towards the end, there was the helmet pass-down ceremony and Din was called to the front. Theana, sitting next to him, nudged him as he stayed frozen in his seat. “You need to get the helmet Din, he left it for you.” Din stood, shaky legs and fast-beating heart, and made his way to the front where the Mandalorian Captain presented him the helmet.

“Xisus Crinor left this helmet for you in his will, he considered you a son and was certain you could fill his shoes and become a great Mandalorian. Will you honor his wishes?” Din nodded, of course he would, from that day on that would be his mission. “Then have this helmet and when the time for you to swear into the creed comes, wear it with pride.”

Din grabbed the helmet and went back to his seat, the rest of the funeral fading away as he looked at the object in his lap. Some of the color was fading and there were some indentations on the sides, Din remembered the stories Xisus used to tell him and wondered which enemy made which mark. One day he’d wear the helmet too and have some marks of his own, and maybe if he was lucky enough he’d have a foundling of his own to guide and to protect.

That night when everyone had gone to bed, Din felt someone shake his shoulder. Panic seeped into his veins thinking it might be one of the older boys but instead when he turned he saw Theana’s cheeky smile and calmed down.

“Good, you’re awake.”

“What’s happening Thea?”

“We’re going on an adventure, c’mon.”

The boy rubbed his eyes, trying to become less sleepy as Theana dragged him out of the room, careful not to wake up the other children. Opening the door as quietly as they could they got out and thought that they had been successful, however, they did not notice the pair of eyes staring at them through the darkness.

“Where are we going?” Din asked, his voice hushed, but still, the words sounded way too loud in the empty hall.

“It’s a surprise, do you trust me?” Din nodded. He felt tired and wanted to sleep but he followed his friend nonetheless because of course he trusted her, he trusted her more than anyone in the world. “Then just follow me D.”

Theana guided him through passages Din wasn’t aware even existed, some of them barely big enough for them to walk through. When they reached the final door, Din immediately knew where they were. It opened to reveal the night sky and all of its stars. They were at the Captain's balcony.

“I don’t think we should be here,” Din whispered but still followed his friend to sit on the edge of the roof, their legs dangling over the compound’s entrance.

“No one will know we’re here, stop worrying.” Theana’s face was illuminated by the moonlight, her eyes focused on the stars, and amazement filled her expression. Their daemons had turned into birds and were roaming the night sky, enjoying the freedom of being able to fly. “We should run away.”

Those four words snapped Din out of the bubble of peace he was in. At first, he thought she might be joking but there was no indication of that on her face. He had lost a home not that long ago and now she was suggesting he leave another one behind. Things were not perfect there but they had a roof over their heads and food on the table.

“C’mon D, just you and me, exploring the world. We’ll be free, no one to tell us who we should be or what we should do.”

Before Din could finish processing her words, let alone think of an answer, the door behind them opened. The sound of it made him jump, almost falling off of the edge, only stopped by Theana’s arm on his chest. The sound of the captain’s voice reverberated in his ears.

“What are you two doing here?” Standing up and turning around, the pair of friends found the captain, his beskar armor reflecting the moonlight, and a smug-looking Caed at his side. “Answer the question.”

Din started sweating, this was the end, he would not have a choice in the matter, he had just started dreaming about being a Mandalorian and now they were going to kick him out. But as he was spiraling, Theana stood in front of him, partially blocking him from the Captain’s view. “This was my idea sir, he had nothing to do with it. I was the one to bring him here, he had no idea where we were going. I just wanted to help him feel better after Officer Crinor’s passing.”

“Is that true son?” Theana looked back at Din and mouthed the words it’s okay , so Din nodded. “Well then, this time I’ll let it slide, seeing that Crinor’s death was surely an emotional event for you, but be sure to choose the people around you more carefully. Caed go with Din downstairs. Theana stay here, we need to talk.”

Din took a step forward and stopped next to his friend who gave him an encouraging smile. Cornelia, now a ferret, walked by his side, leaving their friends behind to face the consequences of their actions. The next day they would find out that sneaking into the captain’s balcony carried a hard punishment with it. The girl was given so many chores that took her from sunrise to sunset to be able to complete them, and she was removed from the few classes girls were allowed to take while her punishment lasted which would be two whole months.

And so, a voice in the back of Din’s head was born, a voice he would try to drown so many times in the future, a voice that told him that maybe Theana was right when she told him they had to get away from there. From that day on Din would be conflicted between his wish to honor Xisus’ legacy and his loyalty to his best friend.

Midivour, who was enjoying his final form as a monkey by climbing on everything he could, followed Theana as they searched for Din and Cornelia in their special garden. The boy’s daemon had also been changing less and less, meaning his time to make a decision about whether or not he would take the oath was approaching too. The teen girl sat next to him, resembling their first interaction so many years ago. They had changed and their bond had become stronger yet both of them knew that the conversation that was going to take place could change everything.

“Please say something,” Theana pleaded after a silent couple of minutes.

“There’s nothing to say,” the boy murmured, his gaze focusing on a specially long piece of grass as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever encountered.

“Din-” she started pleading.

“What Theana?!” He snapped back at her, his eyes meeting hers, his expression showing how hurt he was. “What do you want me to say when you’re the one leaving?!”

“That’s my choice, you can’t blame me for it. This is no way to live, don’t you see it Din? We’re always going to be a pawn in their games, nothing more than muscle they can use whenever they like.” By this point even the wind had stopped to listen to the discussion, their voices cutting through the air like daggers.

"You’re wrong. I'm gonna save people by staying here, just like they saved us."

"What you're gonna be is a faceless man in a sea of many, no longer you but only a soldier." She sighed, resigned. “Don’t you see that was the whole reason to save us? So they can train us to be just like them.” He turned his head to the sky, closing his eyes, refusing to look at her anymore.

“We promised we’d become soldiers together but you chose to leave. You’re not only leaving the Mandalorians, you’re leaving me. ”

“That’s not-”

“You should go, there’s nothing more to be said and the sun is about to set.”

“Din-”

“Goodbye Theana.” He didn’t even give her a chance to reply, standing up and leaving right after. During the following years he would stay up all night wondering what would have happened had he looked back, would their friendship have been stronger than his sense of duty?

Their daemons, not wanting to leave but knowing there was no choice, bumped their heads together to say goodbye, hoping with all their hearts it would be a temporary one.

When Din returned to his room he found a letter on his bed, his name written in Theana's neat handwriting. Not even bothering to open it, he tucked it away at the back of his drawer with the few possessions he had. As Theana left the compound she had called home for the better part of the last decade, Din hit a boxing bag in the gymnasium, not stopping until his knuckles were covered in blood. Both teens had a broken heart that would never heal entirely. After all, no one completely recovers from losing a friend, from losing family. The best a person can hope for is that the pain lessens as time passes, and maybe if they’re one of the lucky ones, to be able to look back at the memories without feeling a pang in the heart.

The boy’s daemon had kept the same form for two weeks, confessing to her human she did not feel the need or the want to change anymore. It was no surprise to either of them that she ended up as a polar bear, that was the animal that had made them feel safe throughout their childhood and it would be the animal that made others feel safe.

The time to make a decision had come. “What are we going to do?” Cornelia bumped her head against his arm, prompting the sixteen-year-old to pet her.

He thought about how safe he felt when Xisus had rescued him, about how he wished he could be that strong to help others, he thought about his mentor’s last wish. “We have to stay.” But then Theana crossed his mind, it had been almost 2 years since he last saw her, yet her memory kept popping up during the times he least expected. He pushed her to the back of his mind, he could not do this if he thought about her. He turned to Cornelia, trying not to sound unsure. “This is the Way.”

As soon as Din announced to his superior the fact that his daemon had settled along with his intentions of becoming a Mandalorian the ceremony was arranged. The armorer was in charge of carrying it out. The foundlings and the available Mandalorians were gathered and the armorer presented him Xisus’ helmet, prompting him to place his hand on top of it.

“Din Djarin, do you swear to take the Mandalorian oath, to uphold the values we hold in this organization, and to be a soldier first before anything else?” Din looked at Cornelia who nodded, giving him the strength he needed.

“I do.”

“Do you swear to never take your helmet off in front of anyone else, thus keeping your identity concealed from the rest of the world?” He felt the cold metal of the helmet warming up under his skin. He could do this. He had to.

“I do.”

“Then this is the Way.” She handed him the helmet, and he took a second to look at it before putting it on.

“This is the Way,” he repeated. This time there was no sadness tinting his voice from behind the helmet. He had made his choice, and there was no use in thinking of regrets. This was his fate.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #his dark materials #pedro pascal #bee castle writing

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autumnscribbles · 3 years

Text

cheap wine | b.s

requested by anon! (thank you i love this!!)

summary: y/n’s friend brad is jealous of her friendship with colby brock, leading to one night where he can’t keep it to himself anymore

word count: 1.8k

warnings: little bit of suggestive language, i wrote smut but it was really bad and i hated it so i adjusted LOL

a/n: i finally managed to write a long dish imagine!! i love me some jealous brad :) keep sending requests, i love them! i hope you enjoyed, i had fun wiring this one

Brad sat on the couch across from you, eyes boring into Colby as he tickled you on the black couch of your apartment. You had invited some friends over for drinks, movies and board games, just wanting a chill night with your friends. It was a nice change of pace from the LA parties you both always ended up at.

Brad, hoever, was hoping that Colby wasn’t going to show up today. Of course, he did, being your best friend. Brad’s jealousy seemed to course through his veins, plastering on a fake grin every time your eyes managed to catch his.

You squealed as Colby picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he ran around the room, your giggles and shrieks filling the room, everyone else laughing along except Brad. He wanted to be the one to get those laughs out of you, and he didn’t know why he suddenly cared so much.

He had seen you with Colby many times, assuming you had feelings for him, or that Colby had feelings for you. When he found out from a third party that it wasn’t in fact true, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when these feelings began, but now they were full throttle, and Brad had a difficult time ignoring them. Pretending they didn’t exist seemingly just wasn’t working anymore.

Brad stood up, asking Connor who was also invited if he wanted to go grab a drink. Connor agreed and both boys made their way to your kitchen, pouring themselves glasses of cheap wine from the bottles you had laid out across the kitchen island. Brad downed his fast, wanting to forget the feelings he had for you and the jealousy he felt watching you with Colby.

“Woah, mate,” Connor laughed. “You okay?”

Brad downed the drink, beginning to pour another one before answering Connor’s concerns.

“Fine,” he muttered.

“It’s y/n and Colby, isn't it?” Connor inquired, despite already knowing the answer to his question.

“No,” Brad lied. “She can do what she wants, I don’t own her. I just have a hard time believing that Colby doesn’t have feelings for her.”

“I don’t know,” Connor shrugged. “They are really good friends.”

“Whatever,” Brad shrugged. “I have no right to be jealous.”

Brad and Connor grabbed their wine glasses, heading back out to the living room, plopping back down on the couch.

Your eyes caught his, quickly standing up to go sit next to him after realizing you hadn’t spoken much since he got here. Brad had been more quiet than usual, almost like he was avoiding you.

“Hey,” you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder quickly.

“Hey,” he replied, putting a smile on.

“Already almost done?” you asked, eyeing his wine glass.

“Yeah,” Brad chuckled. “I guess I’m going a bit fast aren’t I?”

“Nonsense,” you guffawed, waving him off before taking his glass, offering to go refill it at the same time you were going to refill yours.

As you made your way to the kitchen, Colby followed, skipping happily alongside you. You looked back at Brad, noticing the unhappy look on his face yet again, unsure where it was coming from. Colby noticed you staring, nudging you back to attention as you began pouring the wine into the glasses. Despite the fact that you could afford better alcohol, you liked to stick to your cheap wine, it always made you happy.

“What’s up?” Colby asked, realizing right away something was off in that moment.

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “Brad’s just acting weird.”

“A little, yeah,” Colby shrugged. “Probably because he’s into you.”

“He is not,” you protested, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face.

“He totally is,” Colby insisted. “And you’re totally into him.”

“I’m not, Colby,” you said, pushing him lightly, making him stumble backwards slightly, already feeling a slight buzz.

Despite your protests, Colby was right. You had developed feelings for Brad. Everyone always assumed you liked Colby that way, but you didn’t. Ever since you met Brad, you found yourself always thinking about him, wondering what it would be like if you two were together. Sometimes you convinced yourself he had feelings for you too, but your tendency to overthink made you second guess it. He was hard to read, and you weren’t very good at reading people.

“Keep lying to yourself,” Colby said, clinking his glass against yours before sipping it.

You sighed, grabbing yours and Brad’s glass and heading back out to hand it to him, feeling yourself loosen up with each sip.

The night carried on, you pulling out the Twister mat for everyone to play. Everyone was already drunk enough that they were all excited about it, friendly competition already starting. After most people lasting a long time, it was just you and Colby left. Your friendship had consisted of many twister games, both of your competitive natures surging.

Brad watched as both of you got tangled in each other, his head foggy from the wine. He had lost track of how much he had already, but it was a lot, and he was starting to accept his thoughts of you rather than pushing them away.

Colby finally crashed to the floor, you screaming excitedly despite knowing all along you would win. You jumped up and down, pointing at Colby and jokingly calling him a loser.

“We get it,” he groaned. “You’re the best at twister.”

“We know,” you grinned, helping him up off the ground. “I’m gonna go pee now.”

You downed the rest of the wine in your glass, planning on refilling it after you went to the bathroom, heading down the hall towards it. Someone had turned up the music you had put on, a smile across your face as you thought about how much fun you were having.

In the other room, Brad had decided to go for what he wanted. He stood up, the wine heading straight to his head as he stumbled slightly, walking down the hall towards where the bathroom was, waiting outside of it for you. He looked back to make sure no one had followed him, but he was in the clear.

You dried your hands off, opening the door to find Brad standing in the dimly lit hallway, looking at you.

“Need to pee too?” you asked, motioning towards the bathroom.

“No,” he chuckled. “Just wanted to be alone with you for a second.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached him, feeling confident.

“Yeah,” he smirked. “I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of you, and it’s really hard to keep my hands off of you too.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, not expecting him to say that in the slightest. You had really thought Brad was upset with you or attempting to avoid you all night, maybe this was why.

“What’s stopping you?” you flirted back, taking yet another step closer, now able to feel Brad’s breath against your skin, his lips slightly stained from the red wine you had been drinking all evening.

“I’m not sure,” he mumbled, leaning in closer to you.

Both of you losing your inhibitions, you pressed your lips together desperately. It had been something you had both been thinking of for a long time, the satisfaction seeping through you as you felt his soft lips on yours. His hands reached for your waist, turning around so you were against the wall in the shadows of the corner of the hall, his lips moving hungrily, the kiss deepening.

You reached up, lacing your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, earning a groan from Brad in return. His tongue teased your bottom lip, and you opened wider, your tongue touching his. He pulled away for a second, you breathing heavily as he moved to your neck, hands moving up and down your sides.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this,” he muttered, the feel of his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. “I have a pretty good idea,” you blurted out.

“I’ve been thinking abut you all day, it was killing me seeing Colby all over you,” he said.

“I only want you,” you breathed out.

“Good,” Brad smirked before you pulled him back to your mouth, hungry for his kiss again.

You put your hands on his chest, his firm muscles against your hands through the soft fabric of his shirt. You trailed down to his stomach, revealing in the feeling of his body. He did the same to you, hands trailing around you, landing on your ass as he gave it a slight squeeze.

You pulled him closer to you, wanting him even closer than he already was, wanting all of him. You felt his crotch against yours, smiling in the kiss about what you did him.

“I want you so bad,” he groaned.

You took his hand, leading him to your bedroom, kicking the door closed behind you. He set you down on the bed, climbing on top of you as you wrapped your arms back around him, drowning in the kiss and his body. He smelled of cologne and tasted like wine, it was intoxicating.

You reached for his pants, toying with the button when there was a knock on the door, startling both of you.

“Y/n?” Colby asked from the other side of the door. “Are you in there? Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Yeah!” you blurted out as quickly as you could. “I’m fine I just wanted to change clothes.”

You facepalmed yourself after saying that, Brad laughing at you. Now you actually would have to change clothes to make it believable. Although, you assumed Colby had some idea about what was going on.

“Rain check?” Brad asked, despite how badly he wanted to go further.

“I guess so,” you sighed. “You can at least take me out for dinner first.”

“Of course, m’lady,” he chuckled. “How’s tomorrow sound?”

“Sounds lovely,” you grinned. “Now get out so I can change and we don’t look suspicious.”

“I think we already look suspicious, love, plus I want to see you without clothes on.”

You shoved him, letting out a laugh.

“You almost get some action and suddenly you’re so bold?” you ask.

“It's the cheap wine, babe,” he nodded. “It’s all about the cheap wine.”

You changed quickly, letting Brad stay in the room, kissing and fondling each other a little more. You wanted to go all the way, but your friends were all in the other room, and you were the host. You took his hand, leaving the room and shutting the door.

“Have fun?” Connor asked, eyeing both of your messed up hair, Brad’s pant button still undone.

“Oops,” you grinned, standing in front of him so he could button it up.

You sat on the couch next to each other, Brad’s hand brushing your thigh, still wanting to be as close to you as possible.

“Not a word,” you pointed at Colby, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.

You looked over at Brad, his soft brown eyes boring into yours. You knew this wasn’t just lust, and that maybe what you’ve always wanted was in the near future.

Maybe he would be yours.

#brad simpson #brad simpson imagine #brad simpson x reader #bradley simpson #bradley will simpson #bws #the vamps #the vamps imagine #the vamps imagines #connor ball #tristan evans #james mcvey

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

the crimson shell (llll)

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader — genre: mermaid au, yandere au — w.c: 4.6k — warnings: explicit sexual content! heavy dub-con touching/intercourse, forced breeding, oviposition, mentions of death/violence, general yandere themes — notes: ah, here we finally are, the last part/finale to the story! please keep the warnings in mind, and don’t read this chapter if you’re uncomfortable with anything stated above!

Part I / II / III / IIII

You’re not sure how long you’ve been here. After the second week of just blankly staring at the never changing cave walls surrounding you, you figured there was no point in keeping track of it. What good does it do you anyway? It’s not like counting the days will miraculously get you out of here. While you might not know the number, you do know that it’s been far too many. Your skin has grown pale and gaunt from the lack of sunshine and warmth you’re so used to, and the diet of raw fish hasn’t exactly been very kind to you. The cave is tall enough for you to stand up in comfortably, so at least your circulation isn’t completely shot, but you honestly lack the energy to stay on your feet for too long. Escaping, even just back up to the island, is your only chance at survival. You don’t think you’re going to last very long down here. It’s already gotten to the point where you’ve begun looking forward to Jungkook’s short daily visits, even just the sight of something almost human enough to keep you sane.

You let out a heavy sigh, the noise echoing around the cave as you lean back against the stone wall. Over the last couple of days, the creature has begun to bring you little treasures alongside with your food. You’re not exactly sure why, but it’s nice to have something to do – even if it’s just tracing the patterns on the lockets and pendants over and over. You run your fingers over the small pile of golden jewelry by your side, trying your best to keep your thoughts away from the people it must have belonged to. Jimin might have managed to get away, but you doubt the rest of them did. Two of the pendants in your pile belonged to the crew Jimin brought with him, and you suspect that if you give Jungkook a few more days, he’ll bring you the remaining three. As if you summoned him with your straying thoughts, a small splash in the water alerts you of the creature’s arrival. You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook hoisting himself up on the ledge, another fish and a new pendant dropped at your feet. You silently scoot closer to the edge, offering up your hand to the creature’s expectant red eyes. Jungkook nuzzles into your hand with a happy thrill, rubbing his cheek along your palm. You suppress a shudder at the sound, ignoring the soft skin underneath your fingertips as you stare at the headless fish at your feet. Sometimes you wish you could share the same fate as your food.

You let Jungkook cuddle your hand for as long as he wants, knowing that denying him will only make things worse for yourself. If you look past the sharp claws and teeth, Jungkook is hardly anything more than an oversized puppy. He seems to crave constant affection and confirmation that he’s done good when he brings you food or treasures. You think you might would have found it sweet if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s keeping you trapped here – and that he’s a monster. There’s nothing sweet or innocent about the creature in front of you. You let out a small breath of relief as Jungkook drops your hand, but he doesn’t immediately sink back down in the water as he normally does. You watch in confusion as he pushes the fish closer, the gold chain around it rattling as it drags against the stone. You hesitantly pick it up, praying that Jungkook isn’t going to stay here and watch you eat it. The raw fish already makes you nauseous, and there’s no way you’ll be able to stomach eating it with an audience. Especially one that likes to punish you when you do something he doesn’t like. Call you crazy, but you don’t think gagging at the food he brings you will make him very happy.

You slowly unwrap the chain, putting the fish back down to turn over the locket in your hands. You suck in a harsh breath at the familiar design at the front, the intricate carved flowers making bile rise in your throat. You had this made for Jimin years ago, back when you were still best friends. You two stayed friendly even after you started drifting apart, but you figured he would’ve gotten rid of the locket by now. You can’t believe he kept it all this time. That he still wore it. Your hands shake as you gently pull on the clasp on the side, a strained sound leaving your lips as you flip it open. A picture of you and Jimin smiles back at you, your faces bright and carefree. Jimin has an arm slung around your shoulders, his eyes closed into little crescent moons from how hard he’s grinning at the camera. The pure happiness in the photo makes your heart clench. Despite knowing Jimin was the one who lead you here, you find yourself desperately missing him for a split second before you can catch yourself. God, maybe if you accepted that marriage proposal from the baker’s sleazy son last year you would’ve at least been safe. Home.

You’re yanked out of your thoughts as Jungkook tugs you closer to the ledge, a clawed hand quickly snatching the locket out of your grasp. He lets out a series of chirping noises as his red eyes drag from the locket to you, and Jungkook taps your smiling face in the photo before he does the same to your leg. You stare in bewilderment as the creature drops the locket back in your hands, his lips stretched into a nightmarish version of a smile before he lowers himself down in the water. You swear your heart stops the moment you see the rows of teeth lining his mouth, and it refuses to work again until Jungkook is fully submerged and swimming away. You hastily scoot back from the edge, the locket clutched tightly in your hand. A bitter smile graces your lips as it dawns on you that you’ve figured out how Jimin traded your life for his. The picture. While you can’t be sure of exactly how he managed to communicate with Jungkook, you’re sure that being stranded here for six months must’ve been more than enough time to figure out a way to converse without using actual words. With Jimin as living proof in front of him, the creature must’ve understood that it meant that you were real too. And that if he had managed to get Jimin, then there would be a way to get to you. It was probably easier for Jimin to trade your life for his when he had something tangible to show Jungkook, when he had proof in his hands that you were out there too. A part of you hopes that maybe Jimin tried to convince Jungkook to change his mind, to take someone else instead, but you have a feeling that even if he did, the creature wouldn’t have budged. From the time you’ve spent on the island it has become very clear that Jungkook is stubborn and used to getting what he wants – but you suppose that’s only natural for a creature like him. How can something tell you no when it has already been eaten?

Of course, Jimin had no way to be sure that you would set sail for Jungkook’s island. But, while there was no guarantee you would risk travelling that far, your old friend knew how desperate you were for money, and the lengths you were willing to go to keep your family afloat. You suppose he knew how easy it would be to trick you as long as there was a bit of gold involved, and Jimin was dripping in it when he came back. You just hope he at least had the decency to spare your family a gold ring or two after you left, considering he sacrificed you to go free. You toss the locket aside, not really caring where it ends up as long as it’s far away from you. You force yourself to take a few deep breaths, trying your best to quell the anger burning through your veins. Being mad at Jimin won’t do you any good while you’re stuck down here, so you allow yourself to whisper out a string of curses at the man before you lock away the heavy feeling of betrayal deep into your chest. Seeing Jimin’s smiling face has reignited your dwindling spirit, and you decide that you will get out of here, even if it is just to hunt Jimin down.

The next time Jungkook comes back to visit you, there are no more treasures. Instead, your eyes widen in surprise as the creature gently places a familiar shell and pearl down by your feet, next to your twitching meal. You’re certain you left them near your bonfire higher up on the beach, but judging by the scratches and roughed up skin on Jungkook’s arms, it seems like the creature probably dragged himself all the way up there to get them. You feel your throat run dry at the thought, at the fact that you weren’t even as safe on land as you had first believed. If Jungkook was willing to bring himself up on land to get them, then you’re sure they must mean something important. It can’t be a coincidence that both the shell and the pearl have the same deep red colour as Jungkook’s tail and eyes, and come to think of it, didn’t your luck begin to turn after you picked up it that evening before you left?

Jungkook lets out a chirp as you pick up the shell, the creature leaning forward to rub his head against the back of your occupied hand. You eye him warily as your mind races through what has happened ever since you left home. You really, truly, hope that you’re wrong, but based on how everything started after you picked up the shell and how the creature acts – how he provides for you, how offended he acts when you push him away and how affectionate he is, you fear you might have accidentally accepted a courting offer. You’ve seen similar patterns in animals before, and while you’re not entirely sure what Jungkook really is, you think it’s safe to assume that the same thing might apply for him too. What you can’t really wrap your mind around is why he waited so long. It took weeks before you left after Jimin returned, and you were down by the beach every night. The unexplainable fear you felt was probably something deep inside of you that recognized that you were being watched by a predator – by him – but you didn’t know enough to connect the dots. Jungkook had many chances to grab you, but he didn’t. Not until you accepted his shell. Convenience maybe? That this whole trade was easier if he made you come to him? Or maybe some weird kind of custom his kind has? He is half human, after all. But you can’t be sure. If anything, Jimin could’ve at least had the decency to teach you how to converse with him if he was going to throw you to the sharks, or rather, Jungkook. Either way, you’re sure Jungkook would’ve eventually found a way to get to you even if you didn’t leave on that boat.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the feeling of soft skin leaves the back of your hand. The clicks falling from Jungkook’s lips are uncharacteristically soft as he pulls himself up on the ledge, those deep red eyes trained on yours as he tugs you closer. It only takes one hard yank before you find yourself caged in underneath Jungkook’s arms again, legs on either side of his waist. Your pulse quickens as you’re reminded of what happened the last time – you’re not exactly eager to pass out again from being smothered by his weight.

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised that Jungkook manages to carry his entire weight on one arm, while the other begins to roam across your body. After all, he did drag himself up on land and back, and the part you had on top of you last time was hardly anything. The weight of his entire tail must be extremely heavy out of water. You know the creature doesn’t like it when you don’t pay him attention, so you let your eyes rest on his collarbones, watching as a few drops of water run down his skin. Keeping eye contact is too intimidating, those deep red irises makes it feel like you’re staring right into the depths of hell.

You dig your fingers into your thighs as Jungkook’s hand dips under the torn fabric of your shirt, the unusual texture of the web between his fingers making you squirm uncomfortably as it drags over your skin. You’re very aware of the sharp claws hovering above your delicate stomach as he explores, but at least the creature knows to not let them touch. Jungkook’s hand trails over your sides, your stomach, all the way up to the underside of your breasts. You swallow thickly as a knuckle brushes against the soft flesh, Jungkook’s motion suddenly stilling at the contact. You’ve always managed to push him off before he’s gone any further, but you can feel the shift in the creature’s mood today. You know he’s not going to take no for an answer. But, that still didn’t prepare you for the sudden gush of wind brushing across your exposed chest, your shirt split clean in two with the help of Jungkook’s claws. Before you can scramble to cover up, Jungkook lets out an excited chirp, his hand quickly moving back to your chest. Your mind goes blank as he places his palm over one of your breasts, experimentally squeezing and massaging it as he watches you curiously. You grit your teeth as Jungkook plays with it, ignoring the little tingle of heat in your stomach whenever he does something your traitorous body likes.

You try to convince yourself that Jungkook is probably just excited to see parts of a human body he hasn’t seen before, that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Your breath hitches as the webbed texture between Jungkook’s fingers glide over your nipples, a soft moan falling from your lips before you can stop yourself. The noise only seems to spur him on more, Jungkook repeating the motion to hear the sound again. A harsh squeeze on your breast forces out another moan, your hands flying to Jungkook’s chest. Your fingers twitch against his skin, your head telling you to push him away, while the building heat in your stomach and the growing wetness between your legs wants him close to finish what he’s started. You settle for digging your hands into his skin, grounding yourself in his body, knowing that pushing him away won’t do you any good. Jungkook lets out a happy thrill at your touch, lowering himself closer to your body as his hand moves from one breast to the other. You can feel his eyes burning into your skin, your body growing warmer and warmer under his intense gaze. There’s too many sensations at once – cold water dripping against your overheating skin, Jungkook’s long hair tickling your face, the soft and rough skin of his hand squeezing and moving across your flesh. Your eyes glide shut before you can stop yourself, forgetting your own rule of never letting Jungkook out of your sight. It’s just .. too much. Your body doesn’t know whether to hate the attention or love it, your chest tight with disgust while your stomach swirls with pleasure. At least with your eyes shut, and as long as your hands stay on his chest, he feels human. Human enough to make this whole thing a little less horrible.

Your legs tense as you feel more of Jungkook’s weight against your body, his hips pressing down more firmly against yours. You don’t pay it too much attention at first, too occupied by the hand on your chest. At least, that’s until you feel his hips begin to slowly move back and fourth, grinding against your clothed core. Your eyes fly open at the sudden friction, head spinning as your walls clench with need. You’re sure the flimsy material of your trousers must be soaked by now, and the realization that this creature is the reason behind it makes your cheeks flush red with mortification. You stifle a gasp as Jungkook pinches your sensitive nipple between two fingers, another happy thrill filling the cave as he rolls his hips harder against your mound. You can feel the heat in your lower stomach building rapidly, the coil almost ready to snap when Jungkook suddenly stills. You push down the needy whine in your throat as Jungkook removes his hand from your body, the creature pulling himself up further on the ledge.

Your confusion dies as your eyes travel down a little further past his hips, the arousal you felt quickly washed away by terror as you notice a slit in his tail, and something extending out of it. You nearly choke on your own spit as it finally clicks, trying your best to scramble out from beneath Jungkook’s hold as his cock becomes fully unsheathed. Jungkook lets out a series of low, warning clicks at your struggle, his clawed fingers digging into your shoulders as his arms keeps you caged you in. You look down in horror as you feel him resume his grinding against your clothed sex. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. His cock is slightly tapered at the tip, growing thicker down against the base. What you thought was just some misplaced curiosity is obviously more than that, because now, there’s no doubt in your mind that Jungkook’s plan is to fuck you. You ignore the pain as sharp claws dig into your skin, trying your best to twist out of his hold. Logically you know there’s no place for you to run to down here, and that was probably what he wanted all along. Still, your heart hammers painfully against your chest, urging you to at least try.

You don’t succeed in doing much more than twisting yourself over on your stomach, fingers clawing at the stone in an attempt to pull yourself away. You barely have time to process the hiss leaving Jungkook’s throat before the remaining fabric of your trousers are sliced clean in two, leaving you completely bare. The next roll of his hips sends his cock rubbing over your ass, your body trembling at the wetness that seems to be coating it. The scales on his hips are rough and sharp as they drag over your soft skin, and you don’t doubt they'll feel like tiny little razors if you move against them wrong. You’re still trying to drag yourself away when Jungkook’s arms comes under your body, one wrapping underneath your arm to hold the opposite shoulder, and the other curling around your stomach. The creature lets out another hiss at your squirming, pulling your flush against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, the steady rhythm such a contrast to the wild beat of your own as he once again moves against your body. The new position sends his cock gliding between your legs, the shaft rubbing along your folds and coating it with the same slick fluid you felt on your skin. You dig your fingers into the stone floor, but your body is locked up tight against Jungkook. There’s nowhere for you to go.

Jungkook lets out another warning noise before he rolls his hips forward again, the tapered tip of his cock catching on your entrance. You let out a strangled moan as Jungkook’s cock sinks into your heat, your walls stretching around him as he pushes in deeper. Your arousal from earlier combined with the wetness around the creature’s cock makes the slide painless aside from the uncomfortable burn of being filled too much, too fast. Jungkook’s excited thrill at finally being buried inside your heat rings in your ear from the close proximity, his tongue dipping out to flick across the sheen of sweat at your nape. The creature begins pulling his hips back, not giving you any time to adjust before he snaps them forward. You let out a choked moan as he fills you up again, vision growing hazy as he sets a brutal pace from the get go. You can feel the harsh slap of his hips against your ass with every thrust, Jungkook letting out a pleased hiss as he continues to slam into you. You can feel the tapered length twitching and pulsing inside of you as he moves, more wetness seeping out of his cock to mix with your own. Every thrust leaves you gasping for breath, and the hold Jungkook has around your body feels like you’re wrapped up in steel. You have no choice but to lay there and take it, but as the creature’s cock nudges over your sweet spot repeatedly, you realize to your own horror that you like it.

Lost in a daze of arousal and fear, you don’t even realize the creature has been moving the both of you backwards until you’re suddenly plunged into the cold water. You let out a startled gasp as Jungkook’s length disappears from your heat, and you thread the water forcefully to keep your head above the ripples as you try to figure out where the creature went. You feel his hands before you see him, claws wrapping around your waist as Jungkook pushes you against the ledge. You let out a pained groan as your back collides with the stone, your hands scrambling up to grip the edge of it. You freeze as Jungkook’s head slowly emerges from the water, those deep red eyes looking hungrier and wilder than you’ve ever seen before. It only takes a moment before you feel the creature’s chest pressed against yours, his cock slipping in even easier with the new position. It doesn’t take many thrusts before you’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself afloat, your arms shaking with the effort of keeping your head over water. Your fingers slip a little against the wet stone, your eyes widening as you seem to sink even further down on Jungkook’s cock. You’ve never been so full before, almost delirious as he picks up his pace. Jungkook’s hands are relentless as they glide over your skin, pinching and rubbing every part of your body.

“F-fuck,” You moan as your clit rubs against his tail, the roughness of the scales making a bolt of arousal shoot through your body. You don’t even realize your hips are moving against his as the tightness in your gut grows, the pressure building more and more until it suddenly unravels, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you see stars as you come on Jungkook’s cock. The creature lets out something close to a growl as your walls clamp down around him, and he fucks you straight through your orgasm and into oversensitivity with an animalistic pace. You whine as Jungkook’s cock begin to swell, grow, his hands stilling on your hips to pull you flush against him as he comes. He lets out a pleased chirp as the burning hot come floods your insides, a broken moan escaping your lips as Jungkook slows down the harsh pace. It’s done, you think, relieved. He’ll probably leave you alone now. So it confuses you when Jungkook’s eyes slide shut, soft clicks leaving his lips as he pushes you even harder against the stone behind you. He’s still working his hips in and out of your heat, and you realize that even though he just came, his cock is still hard and growing, still stretching your walls.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel something moving up Jungkook’s cock, a firm but soft sphere spurting from the tip and into you. It takes a second for your hazy mind to connect the dots, and you realize a little too late that the creature is laying eggs. Inside of you. Jungkook is breeding you. You desperately try to push against his chest as you feel the second egg travel up his cock, but Jungkook only tugs you closer, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as his chest rumbles. You stifle back a moan as the second egg joins the first, the foreign texture brushing along your sensitive walls. The creature purrs as he released another spurt of eggs, slowly grinding his cock back and fourth as he breeds you. You cling on to the ledge behind you, disgust and pleasure wracking through your body as another egg joins the rest. A deeper click, something almost close to a groan, falls from Jungkook’s lips as he forces the last egg into your tight heat. Your eyes nearly roll back as you feel his cock nudge against your cervix; Jungkook’s slow pace fucking the eggs around inside of you. If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to being stuffed to the brim with Jungkook’s thick cock, eggs and come.

You can feel Jungkook’s breath ghost across your exposed wet skin, the harsh puffs of air sending chills down your back. Your hands finally slip from the ledge, too exhausted to keep you up anymore. Before you can wrap your shaking arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, the creature suddenly detangles you from his body, quickly hoisting you back up on the ledge. You let out shaky moan Jungkook’s cock once again slips from your heat, your body feeling surprisingly empty despite the eggs still resting inside of you.

“Shit,” You hiss as you strain to push yourself up on your elbows, gliding a hand down to your stomach. You can feel them inside of you when you press down, little bumps gliding around under your fingertips. Panic builds under your skin – you have to get them out. There has to be a reason you’ve never heard of creatures like Jungkook before. You doubt you're compatible to carry his eggs, and you don’t even know what will happen once they begin to grow. And even if you were, it’s not like you want them. Just as your hand is about to slip down to your slick folds, Jungkook hoists himself up from the water, once again covering your body. He snatches your hand away with a series of threatening clicks, barring his sharp teeth as he lies down on top of you. You twist your head with a fearful whimper as Jungkook pushes your hand into his hair instead, the weight of his body not totally crushing, but still enough to make you feel lightheaded.

You squeeze down around the eggs without meaning do, bile rising in your throat as they catch on your entrance, too big to push out without any help. Your eyes land on the crimson shell and pearl pushed over to the side of the cave. Your chest feels tight as it dawns on you that while the shell were likely a courting offer; the pearl must’ve been a mating offer. And you had accepted both. Your eyes begin to sting as you feel Jungkook’s chest rumble against yours, the pleased purrs making you feel sick. You hesitantly shift your gaze back to him, curling your fingers painfully tight into the wet locks underneath your palm as you find those deep red eyes already staring back at you. A twisted rendition of a smile blooms on his face, the rows of sharp teeth glistening as he looks down at you. The message in his gaze is clear – you’re keeping the eggs.

And there’s no way he’s letting you go.

a/n: oh boy. hopefully only those of you that were okay with the warnings made it this far. because i know i’ll get questions: jk fertilized his own eggs when he bred y/n, and y/n will basically serve as an incubator (poor girl lmao) for a while. she’ll push the eggs out eventually and then the eggs will hatch on their own. and no – i have no plans of doing jk’s pov any time soon, and it’s up to you to imagine y/n’s fate. anyway!! i hope you uhh, enjoyed this! and thank you for all the love and support for this mini series, it means a lot to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖

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