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#sigh i guess he’ll get his own tag but he’s not getting on the navigation post
simstoyourdismay · 6 months
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gave the kitty a little refresh
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sopejinsunflower · 2 years
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a/n: Ironically, I got this idea while listening to Fukaimori by Do As Infinity. Please read the translated lyrics if you’re interested. Also, I started this as a drabble actually. I don’t know why I always write angst :’)
Summary: Kim Seokjin wants to chase his dream of exploring space. It’s all he ever wanted. And you only ever wanted him but you will not stand in between him and his passion. But there is a secret that you kept, too afraid it might hold him back.
Pairing: Kim Seokjin x you
Tags: Sci-Fi AU! Astronaut Jin! Childhood lovers AU! angst, drama, heartbreak, read only if you want to feel sad. Bittersweet ending.
Word count: 7k
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“It’s so wide it’s kind of scary, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s beautiful.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and one day I’m going to be among those pretty lights.”
“You are a pretty light.”
– – – 
Jin’s eyes blink open and it takes him a while to find his bearings, remaining on his bed a little longer, staring up at the ceiling. He can hear his work partner moving around in the next room before he hears the man exit. He should, too, even if he rather pulls the blanket over his head and just disappears.
Getting out of bed, he gets ready to start the day. The first place he visits is the kitchen to get some caffeine into his system. He remembers dreaming but can’t remember what the dream was, only that it left a foul taste in his mouth and an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. 
“Morning,” Hoseok greets, standing in the middle of the kitchen area with a mug in both hands. He doesn’t look like he had a good sleep either. 
“Morning,” Jin replies, taking out his mug and pouring himself a good helping of steaming coffee. He stands there, blowing the coffee to have it cool down a little before taking a tentative sip. He looks up at Hoseok, who is buried in some research papers. “Is that a new one?”
The second-in-command nods, not looking up. “Yep. They have a new location for us to check out. I’m just checking to see how much bullshit is in this one.” He rolls his eyes but focuses back on reading, eyebrows knitting together, mouth downturned.
Jin chuckles. “Well, have fun and update me later if there’s anything worth noting.”
He leaves Hoseok and heads towards the front of the Freljord, the huge long windows that line the walls showing him the dark and vast universe outside. A big fat nothing, you used to tell him when he would send pictures earlier in the first year of his voyage. He used to argue with you about it, trying to educate and explain to you that it’s not nothing but a whole new possibility of finding a new planet to call home. That is Freljord's mission, started seven years ago when everyone on board had been excited and full of hope. 
 Now, not so much, Jin thinks as he enters the main control room, or the cockpit. He finds Namjoon there, looking at a chart hovering inches from his face, the soft glow casting his face blue. “Anything of note?” he asks as he steps up to his chair in the middle and starts up his console. 
Namjoon shakes his head. “Nope. Nothing much. Just,” he looks up towards the big glass window ahead, “forward, I guess.”
“Hoseok got some new materials,” Jin says as he busies himself with the blue screen that illuminates holographically in front of him, moving his hands deftly across it in front of his face. “Maybe he’ll have some new coordinates for us.”
Namjoon hums a response before putting away the chart with a flick of his wrist. The two men sit in silence, both tending to their own tasks before Namjoon sighs. Jin glances at his Chief Navigator. “Problem?”
“No,” replies Namjoon with a shake of his head. “Just…”
Jin fully turns around. “What is it?”
“Sometimes it just gets to you, you know,” Namjoon says heavily, rubbing the point in between in his eyes. “It just feels…pointless.”
Jin doesn’t reply but turns his chair back around, looking at the hologram in front of him but not really seeing anything. He understands exactly what Namjoon is saying because he feels it, too, more so recently. It’s just one of those days where he wakes up with the thought of you at the forefront of his mind, unable to push you to where you should be, at the back of his mind, buried with time. His shipmate is right; it does feel pointless. Seven years in space with nothing yet command centre still insists on going further out.  
And every year, Jin only grows bitter and bitter. The project was only supposed to be a five-year plan but in the fifth year, a research paper came out about the possibility of finding a habitable planet in Andromeda and they were ordered to head that way. The excuse was that Freljord is advanced enough to make the trip, the first craft to reach the edge of our galaxy in half a decade! So it must be able to travel towards Andromeda, right? With a few stops along the way, because why not, right?
Jin is starting to think that the command centre forgot that there are real life humans in this spaceship, that this isn’t their own science fiction novel that they can write however they pleased. But Jin doesn’t have the power to turn them down. If they turn back around, they’ll be welcomed back as traitors. He had been subtly warned as such. 
According to the calculation, they should break into Andromeda’s galaxy in a few more years, five the maximum, three if they’re lucky that nothing gets in their way. But judging from the asteroid shower six months ago that deviated them from their straight path by a year, three years seems unlikely.The idea that they all might just die in space is growing more and more solid in Jin’s mind, the Freljord forever floating, lost in space.
It’s Jin’s turn to sigh, heavy and long. He goes back to his console, typing and clicking on certain things to make sure the ship is running smoothly. Hoseok comes in a few minutes later, a bagel in between his teeth. He removes it before speaking to Jin. “So basically, they want us to head on to this new coordinate.” He points to a long string of numbers on the paper.
“And you don’t look too happy about it,” Jin notes, looking at his face.
Namjoon comes over to peer at the coordinates and his face scrunches up. “Are they fucking with us?”
Jin lets out a humourless laugh. “They’ve been at it for a couple of years now I thought you’d notice.”
“This is way out of our way,” Namjoon points out, annoyed. “This would set us back from the main mission, like, two years the least!” 
Namjoon throws himself back into his seat, face buried in his hands. Hoseok gives him a sympathetic look but turns back to Jin. “It’s not set yet. This is just their proposal. But from the sound of those papers, it might already have been decided.”
Jin rubs his temple with two fingers. “And what’s over there?”
Hoseok bites the inside of his cheek before answering, “Water.”
Jin regards him through a frown. “What the fuck.”
The other man shrugs. “Seems like another craft researching asteroids found traces of it.”
“The same ones we passed by six months ago?”
“Seems like it,” the second-in-command answers. “And according to their calculation, this would be the general direction where they came from.”
Jin shakes his head. “That doesn’t make sense. They want us to head straight to an asteroid belt for all we know. Can you reconfirm?”
“Already did. Might take a while until we hear back, though.”
Hoseok watches his captain contemplate, his forehead creasing over. Jin throws his gaze back outside to the abyss in front of him. Honestly, he’s not thinking of anything much. His mind is blank. To him, two years or five years don’t make much of a difference now. Any motivation that he had at the start of this mission to go home and resume the life he left behind is long gone. There’s nothing left for him back on Earth, therefore, nothing left for him to lose. To go or not to go no longer bothers him. But he still has other people to think about, crew members of seventy to weigh in on that decision. They are his main concern. 
Hoseok recognises that blank expression well. “I’ll call for a meeting with all the heads during lunchtime.”
The captain merely nods. 
***
The seven chief officers sit around the table.
Jin sits in the middle and Hoseok and Namjoon on either side of him. The Communication Officer, Min Yoongi, is to Hoseok’s left and the Chief Science Officer, Park Jimin, is to Namjoon’s right. Kim Taehyung, the Chief Engineer and the Chief of Security, Jeon Jungkook, brings up the total of the leaders on board. Each man is responsible for at least ten other crews under them but the whole weight of the ship falls on Jin’s broad shoulders.
Hoseok finishes the debriefing, keeping it short and simple. He now poses the main question. “We need to know if all of us are in favour of going off route to check out this supposedly new source of water or if we should just remain our course for Andromeda.”
“I say we stay on course,” Jungkook offers first. “We’re already in the second year of a five-year plan for Andromeda. I rather we don’t lose any more years on something so vague.”
Kim Taehyung nods. “I agree.”
“But what if we do find it?” Jimin implores, looking around the table. “The possibility of being the first to find water in space! Imagine that! I say we go check it out.”
“If we do, we’ll be set back by two years at the least,” Namjoon adds. “Would that still be okay?”
Jimin nods. “So what? We’ve already been here seven years. What’s a couple more?”
“Easy for you to say,” Taehyung argues. “Some of us have people waiting for us back home. I promise my fiance at least five more years. Five more years and I’ll be home and I can marry her.”
Jimin pulls a face. “I told you to break it off before we go onto the ship. You’re just stringing her along at this rate.”
“Fuck off,” Taehyung growls. “A playboy like you wouldn’t get it.”
Jimin opens his mouth to retort but Jin slams his fist on the table. “Enough. I’m giving three days for each of you to explain this to your crew and come back with a unionised decision. Majority wins.”
“Come on, captain,” Taehyung pleads. “Let’s not. Let’s tell Command we don’t have enough resources to prolong this voyage. The craft behind us can do it.”
Yoongi nods, agreeing. “It’s their area of study anyway.”
“Their craft isn’t built like ours,” Hoseok interjects. “They wouldn’t make the trip nor would they even make it further out of the Kuiper Belt.”
“Which is why this is coming to us,” Yoongi concludes to himself, silently understanding. Freljord is one of a kind, a miracle created that couldn’t be replicated as close as to the original. It’s high-tech, advanced and self-sustaining in terms of fuel. Shaped like a sperm, the front part is a spherical globe with a bridge connecting a smaller-sized one that makes the tail where the engineering team is. 
“Truthfully,” Namjoon pipes up. “I’m with Taehyung on this one. I want to go home, Captain. Don’t you?”
Jin is caught off guard that the navigator would target him, staring at Namjoon like a deer in headlights. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear Taehyung saying something about Jin having left a girlfriend back home, too, so naturally, he should be on their side. But Jin’s mouth is dry. They knew he had someone before they started this mission, he had talked about you, had even had a few grainy video calls with you with them present, had always run back to his room to check for mails from you every night without fail.
Suddenly, Jin is brought back in time.
– – –
“When are you leaving?”
You looked at him through wide, teary eyes, standing at the kitchen island of the apartment you shared with him. He stood on the other side, arms hanging limply on both his sides. He had anticipated that you’d be upset but he didn’t think it would be this bad. He had excitedly come home to show you the letter of acceptance for the Andromeda mission, unable to hide the wide smile on his face. You had read the letter but your face had crumpled. By the end of it, your eyes stung by how much tears are pooling in them.
“It’s a good opportunity,” he had said, trying to convince you. “It’s once in a lifetime and there’s only one spaceship that can do this. It seems I’m the only one compatible to steer it and they need me. It’ll be good for-”
“Is that all you care about?” you wailed. “That they need you? What about me, Jin? What about us?” You waved the letter in his face. “It says here it’ll take ten years. You’re going to be gone for ten years!”
“I know, I know,” Jin tried to placate, putting his arms around your waist. You pulled away moving towards the kitchen, the letter still scrunched up in your fist. He followed you. “Baby, it’s ten years maximum. It could be less. This new spaceship is something no one has ever seen before. It’s much faster, much more-”
“I don’t care, Jin! I don’t fucking care how fucking awesome the ship is! I don’t want you to go!” 
You were fully crying by then, leaning against the island top as you tried to get your breathing under control. You placed one hand against your chest, feeling the pain about to rip you apart. You know that he’s been training for this, dedicating most of his youth to the space centre in hopes that one day he’ll get to go. And now he could but you didn’t think the day would come and that it would come so soon. 
“When are you leaving?” you asked through shaky lips, your voice barely coming out. 
Jin scratched the back of his head. “Well, there’s still more training to do and-”
“When?” you insisted. 
Jin studied your face, feeling his hands shake. Mere hours ago, when he received the letter, he had been almost bouncing in his seat, unable to focus on anything except to go home and break the news to you. But now, the excitement had dissipated, replaced with nothing but a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, the kind that made him think that his heart had fallen out of its place. There’s a lump in his throat and he swallows it. “Next year.”
Your face fell once again, crumpling to the floor as your body heaved with every sob. Jin rushed forward, collecting you in his arms and pulling you into his lap. He didn’t have any words to say, didn’t know what he could say to comfort you. He thought you’d understand but understanding and accepting are two very different things, he realised. 
Jin knew that as much as this news had been an amazing one, something no one else has ever done before, it’s also something very agonising, now that he’s actually thinking about it. But the pros outweigh the cons, he had selfishly thought. All his life, he had wanted nothing more than to be able to go into space on one of his own missions. He had dreamt of this since he was a little kid, since they were little kids. All those nights of camping in the backyard of your house in the small tent your dad pitched up counting stars, you both had talked about it. Or at least he did. 
And you had been supportive of his dreams. You had been the one person in his corner to push him to go into astronautics after high school, the one person who helped him study for exams when he thought that he couldn’t do it because it had been too damn hard. You were the person that packed his lunch on days when he had been too tired to even remember to eat, painstakingly shaping the sausages and eggs and sandwiches into little stars and moons and a rocketman. You had cheered the loudest when he got accepted into the Aerospace Research Institute, taking him out to dinner at one of the most luxurious steakhouses in town. It had cost you three of your part-time paychecks to pay but it had been worth it.
A week after his first paycheck, Jin finally had the balls to ask you to officially be his girlfriend but it had almost seemed that that had been the case for most of your university lives, you two joined at the hips even when you were studying at different universities, that it felt natural to just say yes. He bought you a promise ring three months later and you both had planned out the rest of your lives together. Not once did it occur to both of you that it might not come. Not once did either of you ever doubt a future together, the names of your kids picked out and carefully written in a journal you both shared. 
Not until that night of the acceptance letter. It felt like the whole world upended for you, ripped out from beneath your feet. Is this what it felt like for Jin to be in that zero-G simulator day in and day out? Because to you, it feels like nothing is reliable anymore; up is down, left is right, right is wrong. It made you feel like throwing up, your head spinning from the sudden unknown of what’s to come. You didn’t like it and you hated that Jin went to work living off of this feeling. He loves it so much he’s willing to leave you behind for more and that's what hurts the most, unfair as it was.
If truth be told, you never expected for Jin to go into space, not that he was incapable but that it had been difficult to be picked. And it’s not everyday that they were sending people into orbit. When Jin told you about the Andromeda Project, you had secretly doubted it. No other country had ever had the technology to make such a craft that can easily travel into interstellar, never mind one big enough to carry close to a hundred crew. But the Andromeda Project had been going on far longer before Jin joined and by the time he had enough experience and knowledge and whatever else requirements needed, it was time to start choosing and training the right people.
Even then, you had your doubts. According to your brother, Hoseok, the competition was tough and they usually go for those with no young family left behind. Jin might not have a family but he wouldn’t abandon you, right? Only you were wrong. So arrogant you were to think that you could compete with his childhood dream, so you relented. 
“Okay,” you said, one night as you were getting ready for bed and Jin was propped against the headboard, reading an article on his iPad. He looked up, confused. “Okay,” you said again. “I’ll support you.”
It takes a moment for Jin’s brain to finally click, throwing down the iPad and crawling over towards your side of the bed. He hugged you from behind, pressing lingering kisses on your shoulder. “I promise it’ll go by faster before you know it.”
You didn’t believe him. Who would? Space exploration is the one thing that no one can really tell on, especially one like the voyage he was about to embark on. It’s never been done before so what precedent can anyone refer to? Everything is a blank slate and yes, he would be making history. You’re proud of him for that but at the same time bitter that it had to be him who goes. What’s worse, Hoseok got in, too, so you’ll be left all alone, the one left waiting. 
Jin could see how much you were trying to play the supportive girlfriend role. You never complained about his late nights, you never asked more than what you wanted to know, never burdened him with anything you can handle yourself. You took care of his lunch and supplements and as the months went by, you took care of everything in regards to the household, everything so that Jin didn’t have to think of anything else except his oncoming mission. 
And the busier Jin got, the heavier your heart grew. When you had a falling out with one of your close friends, Jin didn’t hear about it. He didn’t have to, his mind was preoccupied enough already. When your mother called one day asking if you were still with him when he was going to leave, you had hung up on her. You cried yourself to sleep because you couldn’t distract him. He needed the rest, he needed the clarity. All that he needed, you gave it to him and with that, he never noticed that you were barely keeping your own head above water as you held him afloat.
Three months before his take off date, Jin went down on one knee. The ring he proposed with had been his mother’s, tweaked to have a new diamond installed, a diamond that resembled the north star. “So I know where I’m heading to. You are my last destination,” he had promised. You said yes, because what else could you have said? Like the rest of the issues that were building, this was one of them that he didn’t need to contend with, not when he was about to leave. The preparation had been tough and Jin was stressed out enough, hardly even home for him to notice the change in you, both mentally and physically.
The first year of the Freljord take off had been excruciating. You only received two emails forwarded through from ARI; one from him and one from Hoseok. It’s the year that they had gone into cryosleep. Jin’s email had been a long one, detailing all the little things saved up in his heart that he never had the chance to tell you while still on Earth and all the little details of his voyage so far, the latter more than the first, and that was when you knew. 
But a year wasn’t long enough for you to be sure. You were a good girlfriend so you waited, giving it more time, hoping that with time, you can learn to accept reality. But the next email came almost three years later when he was finally awake again. Moving on was harder than it sounded. It wasn’t an actual break up nor a death but a sort of limbo that your fiance might or might not return. You wanted so much to let him know but it never seemed appropriate to tell something so important via email so you waited for a video call chance.
Video calls are much harder. His crewmates would sometimes pop in and out of frame to say hello, teasing him in the background. But the worst part was the fact that Jin looked happy. He would talk on and on about the ship, the crews, the vast nothingness he could see out the window, none of which you cared for. He did not, in fact, ask anything about the life he left behind. The video calls were short, too, more static than anything else, so never a good time to bring up the subject of the one thing he should know about. But letting him know could cost him the project so you couldn’t do it, didn’t have the heart to. 
When you’re on a spaceship that travels on hyperspeed, time completely changes between space and Earth. In his excitement, Jin had completely forgotten about this one important fact. And that was one of his many mistakes.  
– – –
Hoseok, who knows more than the others, pulls their attention away from the captain. “Jin already said majority wins. So go back to your units and let us know in three days. We’ll decide from there. Meeting adjourned.”
The others left, talking among themselves but Jin remained at his seat. Hoseok stays next to him. He doesn’t speak, letting the older man decide for himself whether he wants to share whatever that was on his mind or not. Hoseok and Seokjin have been friends since high school, too long to even count the years now. He could tell right away this morning when Jin came into the kitchen that something was wrong and had been wrong for a while now, at least for this past month. 
“Is it y/n?” Hoseok broaches, growing a tad bit impatient. If it is, then Hoseok can worry less. If it’s something to do with the mission then he should know about it, too. 
Jin slowly looks up. His eyes are clouded over, making it hard for Hoseok to read his best friend. What in the world is he hiding? What is it? 
Without speaking, Jin takes out his mobile pad from his belt, swipes around on it and then passes it over to Hoseok, looking down at his lap. The Chief Officer silently takes the device and looks at the screen. The first thing he sees is the sender’s name: y/n l/n. The body of the message is short. A simple, ‘I’m sorry, Seokjinie.’ There’s an attachment at the bottom and he taps on it. At the sight of the image, Hoseok whips back around to Jin. 
“When did you get this?”
“Last month,” Jin croaks out, still looking down. When he speaks again, his voice breaks. “The further away we are from Earth, the longer it takes for messages to arrive.” The tears flow, dripping down Jin’s face and into his lap. He has yet to raise his head.
Hoseok looks back down to the picture. He recognises it, receiving the same one in his email at the same time Jin did, he bet. He hadn’t said anything to the captain, didn't know how. But Jin also had been quiet, too quiet, he thinks but if the man wasn’t ready to talk about it, Hoseok isn’t the type to push. Now, he thinks he should’ve. 
Yes, the further away they move from Earth, the harder it is for any communication to happen between Command and the ship. It just takes longer for anything to arrive. Not only that, Freljord moves at the speed of light, warping the concept of time for all its crew. If Hoseok’s calculation is correct, this email is five years late, which means-
Jin’s crying grows harder, sobbing so hard he doubles over. Hoseok can only put one hand on the man’s back, rubbing up and down but not really doing much to calm his friend. Jin had never experienced such pain, his chest aching so much he wishes he could tear his skin off if it alleviates the hurt. Jin has always been good at bottling his feelings, he’s done it his whole life. He’s not an emotional person (wouldn’t be able to be an astronaut if he was). 
When you were kids and he skinned his knees from falling over his bicycle, you were the one who cried while he stood there stoically as his mother slaps on a cartoon band aid. When Hoseok would get angry at him for hogging the PlayStation, he would just drop the controller in the midst of the boss battle so Hoseok can have a turn. When you were angry at him for something he had said, he had sat there calmly listening to you ranting at him why it was the wrong thing to say, mentally noting to not say it again. When you had broken down over the news of his acceptance to the Andromeda Project, his eyes had been dry.
But right now, it feels like the whole ship could go down and he wouldn’t give a fuck if it meant he would stop feeling this ripping pain. If a window of the ship had been breached, he would run towards it and lunge himself out. If there was anything on the manual about how to numb the agony coursing through his veins, he would tear out every nook and cranny of this ship to find it. But all he has is Hoseok, silently rubbing his back.
“I’m too late, Hoseok,” he keens, the note of his voice breaking Hoseok’s heart. “I’m too late. I was so stupid. So fucking stupid. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve stayed behind. I should’ve been with her.”
But Hoseok’s not sure if time would reverse, Jin would choose differently. He knows the man too well. Space is all he has ever talked about, he’s sure even you knew that. Hoseok also knows that if Jin had decided to not go, you would’ve changed his mind. You love him too much to not let him live his dreams and Hoseok thinks it’s only fair for Jin to do the same. But he guesses the difference was that one had seen it coming long before while the other had been too blinded by passion. Neither was wrong, though, he thinks.
As Jin continues to bawl, loud enough for Yoongi to come back to the kitchen to check on the noise but retreat back out once he sees Jin, Hoseok looks back at the picture still on the screen of Jin’s communicator pad. The cream-coloured background with the gold emboss of the wedding invite stares prettily back at him. Hoseok wonders how old his niece and nephew are now.
– – –
The house is finally quiet, the only sound being the clinking of dishes as you wash them, humming to yourself softly to a song you can’t quite remember the title of nor the actual lyrics. 
Every once in a while, you catch yourself looking up into the window above the sink and only seeing your reflection, the necklace around your neck glinting everytime it catches the light. The north star diamond rests just right on your sternum, lightly thudding against your bone whenever you move.
You’re lost in your own thoughts, your hands moving automatically, the sound of the tap water running a background noise. Your husband is already in bed; he’d had a long day at work. You’re sure that when you go up to bed, he’ll stir awake before pulling you to sleep in his arms. He told you once a long time ago, six months into the relationship, that he cannot sleep without you any longer. You’re his comfort then, his comfort now fifteen years later. But you probably won’t go straight to bed when you’re done with this. 
You put the last dish on the rack and wipe your hands. The letter that came in today sits on the table in the hallway, untouched. You had taken one look at the logo stamped on the front left corner of the envelope and had almost dropped it, feeling like the piece of paper had burnt you. With shaky hands, you had picked it back up and placed it where it is now, hoping that when the recipient sees it, he’ll take care of it. 
But he hadn’t so now you have to make sure that he does before he sleeps. You make your way up the steps, one hand running up the bannister, not for support but mostly because if you don’t have your hand on something solid, you’d feel like you might float away. The skylight installed years ago allows the bright light of the full moon to cascade down into the house, illuminating your way perfectly fine. You look up at the sky, noticing the tiny little sparkling stars and you can’t help but feel bittersweet, a sort of melancholy you thought would have faded in time. The letter is clutched in your other hand.
Up the stair, you make towards the first door on the left. You take a deep breath, send up a silent prayer and knock. 
“Yeah?”
You open the door and peer in, finding your son sitting at his desk, his laptop opened. He leans over his chair to look at you, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Can I come in?” you ask.
He nods. “Yeah, sure. ‘Sup?”
You walk in and look around the room. For a seventeen-year-old teenager, he’s pretty tidy, tidier than his twin sister, surprisingly. The many books on the shelves are arranged in order of genres; fiction, non-fiction, and school books. The fiction section consists of about fifteen books right at the bottom. Two-third of the tall shelves are full of non-fictions, mostly science related, almost all on space and astronomy. When he had expressed interest in that specific area, you had been hesitant, but you’re not one to stand in the way of the people you love. It has always been like that.
Above his bed, stuck to the ceiling, are a constellation of stars and planets, glowing green in the dim lighting. Among them is a rocket-shaped one. 
That’s why when the letter came today, you knew what it was. Your heart and brain war against each other; one tells you to rip it up to miniscule pieces and throw them away, the other already knows you’ll do what’s right. Because you’ve done it before. 
You sit on his bed, careful not to mess up the covers too much. The laundry basket is full and you point to it. “I told you to bring it down, didn’t I?”
Taejin pushes his chair away from the desk and swirls it around to face you. “You didn’t come here to lecture me about my laundry, omma, did you?”
You look at him, noticing that his hair is getting a little long around the ears, poking against his neck and fluffy at the top. Except for his eyes, he looks nothing like you and very much resembles his father more than anything. It’s a haunting image sometimes. There’s more of his father in him than just the look, apparently. You smile and shake your head. “No, I didn't.” You produce the letter. “I came to give you this. It arrived earlier today.”
His eyes light up before it dims again. He opens his mouth then closes it, shaking his head. “I was waiting for it but now I don’t know if I’m ready to know.”
You mull over his words, nodding to yourself. “But how long are you going to put it off? Even if you don't, time will still continue to flow, you know? It’s not going to stop just because you’re not ready.”
He looks a little confused, his head tilted to one side. You let out a soft laugh. “Look, Jinnie, if you get in, that’s great. If you don’t, it’s not the end of the world. You can choose another school, another programme.” You doubt the latter half of your words, knowing him well enough that it wouldn’t be that easy for him to give it up. “Or would you want me to look for you?”
He thinks about it before shaking his head. “No. I’ll do it.”
You hand him the letter, watching him tear it open with shaking fingers. He pulls out the piece of paper inside and unfolds it. He gives you one last look and you nod with encouragement. “It’s not the end of the world.”
He reads it, eyes going over the words with such speed before he looks up, eyes wide. Curious, you get up and stand next to him, reading the content of the letter from over his shoulder. A small part of you withered, noting that this is how it had started, too, back then. You beam at Taejin, ruffling his hair. “Congratulations, my little spaceman. You got in.”
While your daughter pursues music, your son follows his dream. As Areum debuted in a girl-group in South Korea, Taejin finishes his internship with the Aerospace Research Institute. As you cheer Areum at her first stadium concert, Taejin is wrapping up his initial training as an astronaut as one of the top trainees in line for the space mission, Andromeda II. On the day that Areum flies back from her Grammy performance show, she heads straight for ARI, breathless and still very much jetlag to say goodbye to her twin before his thirty days quarantine starts. She might not see him again, ever, but that’s something you did not mention to either of them. 
Areum had to leave earlier, tear-stained face waving goodbye from the door, unable to actually leave. You watch as Taejin gives her one last, long hug, the kind of hug that clearly communicates the amount of love he has for her, the kind of hug people give when they know it might be the final goodbye. She leaves then, hiccuping and sobbing, and you wished you had left with her. But not yet, you still have one last thing for your son, a parting gift.
“I want you to have something,” you say, unclasping the necklace from around your neck and placing it in his palm, closing his fingers onto it. “I want you to hold on to this for me, okay?”
Taejin looks close to tears. “But, omma. I know how precious this necklace is to you. Are you sure? Shouldn’t you be giving this to Areum instead?”
You smile at him. “I have something else for her, don’t worry. I want you to wear it, always.”
He doesn’t ask questions but puts it around his own neck, placing it safely inside his T-shirt. “Will Jackson be okay with you giving me this?” he laughs, only jesting.
You shake your head. “It wasn’t from him.”
He looks surprised. 
You let out a soft sigh. “Taejin-ah,” you say, trying to arrange your words carefully. “Do you remember that astronaut story I used to tell you when you were little? The one that went on to travel the universe, in search of his north star?”
He nods hesitantly, probably the memory of the story faded with time. “I can recall bits and pieces. Why?”
“Well, what if I tell you he had been a real person?”
Taejin stares at you. “What do you mean?”
Suddenly, the intercom in the lounge room crackles to life and a disembodied voice echoes throughout the whole arena. “Five minutes until quarantine starts. All trainees are required to check in at seventeen hundred hours.” The announcement is repeated once more and you grip Taejin’s hand, your heart breaking. How many times can it break the same way in a lifetime?
“Listen to me,” you say, speaking urgently. “You told me that your mission is to-”
“Converge with the crew of the first Andromeda mission on Planet-”
“Yes, that,” you interject, waving for him to stop. Time is running out. “There’s someone on that mission that I want you to find, someone who will recognise the necklace I gave you.” 
“Someone other than Uncle Hoseok?”
You nod and smile but the tears are creeping down your cheeks. Taejin catches them with his fingers but you ignore him, ignore the tears. “When you find him, you’d know. All the questions you’ve been asking me that I couldn’t answer will be answered, I promise you.”
The announcement reverberates through the air one more time and the whole room flutters with activity as family members and friends and loved ones of those taking off next month hurry to leave or give one last hug or kiss.  
Taejin looks a little lost. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. What are you-”
“Trust me, okay? Wear the necklace always and you’ll know when you find him,” you repeat, getting up and pulling away but your son wouldn’t let go of your hands.
“Omma, please,” he begs. “I need more explanation. Why tell me this now?”
You manage to free your hands from his grasp, the tears blurring your vision. You pull him in for one last hug and hold his head in place as you place a kiss on his forehead. “I love you, Taejinnie. All I did was out of love. Tell Hoseok I love him and miss him so much. We all do. Tell them all about us.”
Taejin relents, letting go of you and finally moving towards the door that will take him and the others inside the building to be quarantined pre-flight. He has his suspicions on who you meant but the name was never mentioned, or it was in the story you’ve told that he had thought fiction. But that was a story when he was a child, something that’s only a vague memory in his head. Now, he racks his brain for it. 
For the next thirty days of quarantine, Taejin obsesses over remembering the name. In a bout of desperation, he manages to pull up the name list of all the crews of the Freljord, the predecessor ship of the one he will embark on. He doesn’t have to look far, the name jumping out to him on the first line, noticing the similarity immediately. Captain Kim Seokjin. To confirm it, he finds a picture of the commanding officers of that spaceship and he almost falls over his chair. 
It’s like staring at a picture of himself. The father that he had been looking for all this time, the father that he had given up asking about by the time he was eight, is one of the men that he is going to meet in another galaxy. He grabs ahold of your necklace, his fist wrapping around the north star diamond. 
“I’m coming,” he whispers to himself, his fingers rubbing against the diamond softly. “Please be there. I'm coming to find you.”
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a/n2: I might have ended this a little too abruptly but I was running out of motivation lol lmk what you think of this one shot in the comment or ask. Like and reblog will be much appreciated :)
Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:
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merakiui · 4 years
Note
Heey saw requests were open so I couldn't help but come check out and ask! Will you be okay if you do a Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc and Childe with a S/O who tries to took a hit for them from getting killed by an enemy?
Xiao, Zhongli, Diluc, and Childe with an S/O who Shields Them From an Attack
☁️ Xiao ☁️
You dragged him along so that he could get some fresh air and help you with your commissions. Xiao would rather stay inside, but you seemed to want to spend time with him so it’s hard to object.
Xiao definitely tried to avoid going with you, but you had kissed his cheek and said it’s more fun if he accompanies you. His weak heart agreed right away.
So not only is he there to provide moral support and company, he’s also there to make sure you’re not going to do anything foolish.
He’s already defeated multiple enemies while you looked through crates for extra materials. If he were mortal, your carelessness probably would’ve shaved a few years off of his life.
He keeps telling you to pay attention and you say you are, but then you turn away and next thing you know an arrow comes whizzing past you.
Xiao’s picking up a damaged mask from the grassy ground, wiping the grime from it, when your shout alerts him. And before he knows it you’re tackling him to the ground.
He’s surprised and a little angry, snapping at you to be more careful. Your grip on his shirt tightens and he wonders what’s gotten into you.
When Xiao places his hand upon your back and finds the arrow sticking out of it, he freezes. You just...shielded him from an attack. And in the process you ended up getting hurt.
Warm blood coats his fingers and you’re doing all that you can to avoid bursting into tears in front of the stern adeptus. He sits up with you, wasting no time in swiftly defeating the archer hilichurl. His anger can be felt in the way he attacks mercilessly, showing no sign of letting up until the hilichurl has fallen to the ground.
Xiao can’t believe you, a mortal, would shield him, an immortal, from an arrow. He knows you love him, but to so readily take a hit for him—it’s surprising.
“You...” He wants to call you stupid, but you were only thinking of his safety. Instead he chooses to pacify you rather than berating you for something that has already happened. “You’re going to be okay. It doesn’t look that bad.”
He tends to your injuries to the best of his ability and then will bring you back to Wangshu for further inspection. Once the arrow is pulled out and your injury is cleaned and bandaged, tears finally spring from your eyes. It really, really hurts and you feel bad for making Xiao worry on your behalf.
He’s just relieved you’ll heal normally. But in the future he doesn’t want you to endanger yourself for his sake. After all, he’ll be perfectly fine if he takes a hit that would be fatal to most.
“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” you admit, placing your hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re an adeptus, but it would’ve hurt me more if I’d just let you get hit.”
Xiao sighs, taking your hand in his. “I guess it’s fine... Just don’t do it again, okay?” Deep inside, he’s truly touched that you would throw yourself in front of danger just to protect him, but he doesn’t want this to become a recurring thing for you. 
🔶 Zhongli 🔶
You had taken Zhongli out to find some Cor Lapis and other ores you were in desperate need of. He suggested buying them from the locals, but he didn’t bring any Mora and you knew of a few abandoned mines where you could get them for free.
With that logic cemented into place, you and Zhongli headed off for the areas you had marked on your map.
It wasn’t a difficult trip; the two of you worked diligently in clearing any enemies that got in your way and eventually you had made it to the first cave.
Zhongli was reciting the history of Liyue caves and their monetary benefits while you climbed over rubble and debris from past accidents. You’d almost tripped once, but he had caught you out of reflex, seemingly unbothered with your clumsiness.
All was going well. You’d mined a lot of ores with Zhongli’s help and the two of you were about to move onto the next cave when the ground above seemed to shake. Briefly, you glanced up, wondering what could be causing such a disturbance.
“We should be careful. There might be a Ruin Hunter around,” you told him as you navigated through the winding tunnel. Zhongli nodded in agreement with that, easily stepping over fallen stones.
Before you knew what was happening, the entire cave was shaking as another loud explosion resonated from above. Debris from above trickled down like snow and you cowered for a moment, expecting a cave-in.
It was silent for a few minutes and you figured the threat must’ve passed. Zhongli waited for a moment as he listened to the silent, musty air.
Just as you breathed your sigh of relief, the ground shook ten times harder than before, and stones larger than the ores you had mined were raining down at once.
The initial shock was more than enough to have you running for the entrance, pulling a very confused Zhongli along. A stone larger than your foot comes falling, and it’s about to hit Zhongli on the head.
To avoid an accident, you shove him to the front and the rock hits you instead of him. Luckily, it wasn’t on the head, but it did hit your ankle hard.
You’re worried you’ve sprained it after you fall to the ground, more stones pelting you. The next thing you know, Zhongli picks you up in his arms and carries you out of the cave before it can collapse entirely on the both of you.
Concerned for your safety, Zhongli observes your injuries. You’re bruised and your ankle does look sprained. He asks if you can stand and when you try he frowns. It looks like you’re going to need to rest up for a few days.
Zhongli will help you the rest of the way back, occasionally stopping so you can give your legs a rest. He expresses his gratitude and is rather surprised that you would go out of your way to take the hits of many stones and rocks.
Despite being thankful, Zhongli hopes you won’t do this again because he doesn’t like to see you in pain. If you’re hurt, he feels hurt and that’s the last thing he wants.  
🔥 Diluc 🔥
A group of slimes were hanging around the winery again and so Diluc went off to deal with the problem. He didn’t expect there to be so many, though.
You had tagged along just in case something like this were to happen. And even though Diluc is strong enough to handle so many enemies, these slimes just kept coming.
It was difficult to deal with all sorts of different slimes: Electro, Anemo, and even Cryo. Despite the fact that he didn’t want you to endanger yourself—he insisted he could handle it—you still did what you could to help.
Once you were certain all the slimes were defeated, Diluc sighed, leaning against his weapon to relax after so much fighting. His back was turned and he didn’t notice the large slime creeping up on him.
You jumped in just in time to prevent the slime from hurting him. It had been a quick reaction, one that you hadn’t thought through entirely.
The Cryo slime is freezing to the touch and as soon as it hits you an icy cold envelops you. You try to look strong in front of Diluc, but it’s just too much and you fall to your knees, shivering while the slime looms over you.
Diluc witnessed the entire thing when he first noticed you jump into action and he’s very surprised to find that last slime. He defeats it at once before dropping down to check your injuries.
You aren’t exactly wounded, but you are very cold. He’s ashamed at himself for not paying closer attention to his surroundings.
While Diluc is grateful that you protected him, he’s disappointed that you’d put yourself in harm’s way. You should’ve just let the slime hit him.
He sheds his coat and drapes it over you, using his own Pyro element to start a fire that’ll have you warm in no time.
“You didn’t have to do that. But...thank you. Next time don’t do anything reckless. You’ll hurt yourself,” he says while checking your body temperature.
“But I wanted to keep you safe, Diluc! You already defeated so many slimes. That last one could’ve done some serious damage.”
He’s touched that you’d worry about him, but he doesn’t want you to do something like that again. It’s upsetting that you got harmed as a result of him and he wants to make sure you’re truly okay.
You drag Diluc under his coat so that his body heat can warm you up faster. And even though he tries to get out of it, he doesn’t complain too much.
It’s hard to be upset at the person he loves so much, especially if they were the one who protected him.
💧 Childe 💧
You and Childe were picking through some ruins, searching for chests and other valuable materials. You were careful to avoid any enemies, as the last thing you wanted to do was fight a bunch of slimes and hilichurls.
Childe fought them in your place, eagerly defeating them while you remained on the sidelines.
Everything was going well until the two of you stumbled upon a Ruin Guard that was slumped over, docile and not yet awake. Childe looked over at you and then at the Ruin Guard and then back at you, grinning madly the entire time.
You could only face palm and shake your head, grabbing his arm and gesturing in another direction. You’d encountered enough monsters today; you definitely didn’t want to waste your energy on a rust bucket. But Childe, who had only been fighting small enemies up until this point, was itching for a bigger opponent.
So he rushed ahead despite your quiet protests. And you were stuck having to watch as he sparred with the Ruin Guard.
You would’ve left it up to him if you hadn’t noticed the second Ruin Guard awakening from its slumber, having been disturbed by the commotion.
One Ruin Guard was already an issue, but now you’ve got to deal with two. You can only sigh as you run in to defeat the second one, hoping it won’t take up too much of your time.
Missiles are everywhere; they’ve nearly destroyed the ground and have cracked the already eroded stone pathways. You’ve nearly fallen victim to them a few times now and if it weren’t for Childe’s quick thinking you would’ve been crushed by their mechanical feet.
The first Ruin Guard falls before the two of you in a heap of exhausted, overheated gears and Childe twirls his bow, a glint of madness of his gaze.
You would’ve called it a day if it weren’t for the other Guard aiming for him, missiles completely locked onto his form.
Without thinking, you jump into action, pushing Childe away before he can be hit. In the process, the missiles slam into the rock formation above you and it comes tumbling down in a dusty rumble.
Now it’s Childe’s turn to save you and he’s quick on his feet, pulling you away before you can be buried under heavy stone. The two of you tumble and you scrape your arms and legs in the fall, doing all that you can to shield your boyfriend before he seriously injures himself.
A particular sharp piece of rubble slices the length of your arm and while Childe recovers to finish off the Ruin Guard you clutch your injured arm to stop the blood flow.
Once the Ruin Guard is defeated, Childe goes over to you, bending down to get a look at your arm. “It’s definitely going to need some work,” he jokes, hoping to put a smile on your face. “Don’t worry. I’ll have it patched up in no time. You can count on it.”
And while he wraps it up, he thanks you for your help. Without it, he would’ve been the one with more injuries than you. And even though he doesn’t mind getting hurt in a battle he doesn’t want you to injure yourself as well. So next time you want to protect him, make sure you won’t hurt yourself in the process!
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ddarker-dreams · 4 years
Text
Saturnine. Yan Chrollo x Reader [SMUT]
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Tags/warnings: Dubcon, oral sex, creampie, my brain melting, condescending ???, Chrollo always has smth to say Word count: 2.2k. Note: it is finally done .
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When gazing into the mirror, it should be easy to recognize the reflection staring back as your own. It’s the sight you’ve seen your entire life. Maybe the light in your eyes is less noticeable and your smiles no longer appear genuine, but in the end, it still physically bears your image.
You shiver at the chilly air kissing your bare skin, goosebumps erupting at the lack of clothing. Thin fabric clings tightly around your body, sheer and intricate in its lace design, yet astonishingly soft to the touch. It accentuates the swell of your chest, the black as midnight fabric stopping just shy above your midriff. A matching thong connects to sheer thigh highs through a garter belt to complete the set. Never in your life can you recall wearing such a lascivious outfit. Nor did you think you’d ever wear one for him.
Covering your exposed cleavage with your arms, you lower your head, fingernails pressing so harshly against your skin that it hurts. The pain serves to ground you in reality, proof that this is happening and not a dream.
“Did I… do this right?” You murmur, not used to how Chrollo is wordlessly assessing your trembling figure. Normally the air is full of conversation, equal parts rigid and provocative, a verbal game you’ve been forced to navigate. You still prefer the mind games over this maddening silence. You’re convinced he can hear the way your heart pounds viciously as if it was attempting to free itself from your body altogether, the current stress it’s under too much to withstand.
Chrollo moves a step closer and you take a deep, shaky breath. Grey eyes rake over your body, like a predator monitoring its prey, inspecting every inch of you. He spreads his fingers against your stomach, coarse fingers gliding over your skin, gradually moving upwards.
“Mm. You did perfectly.” His voice is rich and husky against your ear, spoken lowly so that only you may hear it. When his fingers reach their intended target, he cups your chest and lays his head on your shoulder. You watch his actions in the reflection of the mirror, glossy lips parting but no words managing to form on your tongue. Emotions swirl within you like an unrelenting vortex. Repulsion. Frustration. Shame. That it came to this, lowering yourself to a level you never wanted to be reduced to.
While you ruminate in your misery, Chrollo presses featherlight kisses from the crook of your neck to your jaw. His lips are soft and well taken care of, curling into a smile at how your pulse quickens. There are numerous mysterious surrounding Chrollo, but you do not doubt that he’s enjoying himself now. Your attention is brought back to his hands on your chest and how he kneads them. A blush ignites when you feel something hard press brush your ass, already guessing what it is.
“S-so you’re going to,” you struggle to get out, releasing a gasp when he suddenly pinches your nipple, “Keep… keep your promise, right?”
The clarification is for your peace of mind. An internal justification is necessary to continue with this illicit act, doubts plaguing your mind. You feel his chest rumble against your back, a deep chuckle leaving him. Regret comes swiftly, knowing that anytime you speak to Chrollo his responses sting deep, piercing your skin and festering.
One of his hands comes to your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. The proximity has your eyes wide as a doe, his warm breath fanning against your face, dark tresses of hair tickling your face. His grip is tight but not painful. A not so subtle reminder of the Phantom Troupe leader’s innate strength, that goes beyond any measurement your mind could conjure up. Your squeeze your eyes shut when he leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of your lips.
“What if I don’t?” Chrollo’s question has you frowning, eyelids fluttering open so you can shoot him a glare. He stares back unfazed, amusement visible from his closed mouth smile and relaxed posture, clearly not feeling intimidated by your little show. You decide to give it some thought, knowing he’ll scrutinize your response if not chosen carefully. Though, it’s admittedly difficult to concentrate when your face is burning up and his hand is still groping your chest.
Swallowing thickly, you arrive at a half-decent comeback. “I’ll… I’ll hate you.”
It sounded far better in your head.
Chrollo raises an eyebrow at your rebuttal but decides to entertain it. “Don’t you already?”
“I’ll hate you even more,” comes your reply, stumbling out before you could think it over. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he doesn’t take visible offense. Instead, the bastard laughs again. Affectionately, Chrollo brushes his knuckles over your cheek, mirth dancing in his eyes.
“Even more, huh,” he hums, your nonsensical ramblings sounding worse when repeated back. “If that’s the threat I’m contending with, then I’ll be sure to stick to my word.”
You’re not exactly reassured by this, but decide to leave it for now. Suddenly, Chrollo steps back, freeing you from his grip. Before you can ask about what he’s doing, his hands start loosening his belt. Ah. So the time for negotiating is over. His dress pants fall, revealing a prominent bulge pushing against his briefs.
“Now get on your knees for me.”
It wasn’t a request. You do as he says, hyper-aware of how he’s staring at you, the tile from your shared master bedroom cold against your shins. To save what little modesty you have remaining, you readjust your bra so your chest no longer threatens to spill out. Heartbeat picking up in pace, you lift a shaky hand, palming his crotch through the fabric. 
The muscles in his thighs tighten, yet every other aspect of him remains thoroughly composed. Playing with the waistband, you slowly pull it down, revealing Chrollo’s half-hard member. It’s long, around six inches when erect, with a prominent vein that you’ve learned is rather sensitive. Precum is already leaking from the head, a sight that worsens the blush on your face.
Chrollo runs his hands through your hair, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. You pick up on the unspoken encouragement to not keep him waiting. Readjusting yourself into a more comfortable position, you take his dick fully into your hands, giving it a tentative stroke to test the waters. No verbal response. He’s excellent at maintaining his composure, creepy as it may be. Pumping his cock from the base, you bow your head down, eyelids fluttering shut as you kiss and lick the tip. That earns you a sharp inhale and a tightened grip but nothing else. Wetting your lips with your tongue, you continue licking the tip while jerking him off, noting that his cum has a slight salty taste to it.
Now that your confidence has somewhat been built up, you part your lips to take more of him in, getting adjusted to his size. Chrollo lets out a shaky exhale, fingers curling deeper into your hair. It’s difficult to get into a solid rhythm as your anxiety is unrelenting. Being so vulnerable in front of a person whose hands, which are now intertwined with your hair, have slaughtered countless people. 
He could do the same to you at any time, you think, despite his insistence for not wanting to. Hollowing out your cheeks, you manage to take more of him in, stopping just shy as not to activate your gag reflex. It makes your stomach churn when he lovingly strokes your cheek, looking down at you with eyes glazed over with crazed lust. Of course, he wouldn’t make this easy on you and act different — he continues with the delusion that this is love.
“Eager, now are we?” Chrollo laughs breathlessly. You decide to ignore the comment, too focused on having him finish so you can move on with your night. The low groans and whispers of your name are starting to affect you, a factor that only adds to your shame.. Pangs of heat are building up in between your legs, which you subconsciously rub together in a feeble attempt to relieve yourself. Chrollo quietly groans, content at the sight, dick twitching in your mouth. You wish he hadn’t noticed just how turned on you’re growing — not that you’re surprised with how unfairly observant he is — fully prepared for more scathing comments.
“I’m glad you stopped being so stubborn,” he pushes himself deeper into your mouth, gripping your head tightly enough not to let you move away, “So I can finally have my way with you.”
You wince at how he forces his dick down your throat, tears stinging the corners of your eyes and lungs screaming for air. Chrollo drinks in the sight, shuddering, bucking his hips, and pulling your face as tight against him as he can. You figure his release is getting closer from how erratic his movements are growing. At least it’ll be over soon. This line of thought is interrupted as he pulls away, saliva and cum connecting your mouth to his dick in a thin line, which has you frowning. Relishing the opportunity to regain yourself, your lungs greedily gulp in air, and you cough from his previous actions.
Chrollo extends a hand out to you which you hesitantly accept. The more human side is starting to show, his skin sheening with sweat, bare chest heaving for air much like yours, and black tresses sticking to the sides of his face. Your lips part, intending to ask why he stopped. He places both his just hands below your ass, hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing. Yelping, you struggle and cling to him as not to fall, eyes wide with confusion.
“W-what—”
“Wrap your legs around me,” he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead and you do as he says, scared that you’ll fall otherwise. “Mm. Good girl.”
Chrollo carries you over to the wall, your back pressing against the hard surface and feeling its coolness on your bare skin. After thinking about it for a moment, you understand what it is he intends to do next, tightening your grip around him. He positions the head of his cock against your opening, smiling at how wet you are. At least he’s too focused to comment on your current state. You look to the side, not wanting to see the pleased expression you know is on his face.
“I’ll take care of you after,” Chrollo promises, slowly pushing himself inside you. You take a deep breath, gripping his shoulders tightly, fingernails digging into his skin. At least he’s allowing you to adjust. You yelp when he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging it so that you look him dead in the eye. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hm?”
A half-choked out moan leaves your lips as he fills you, feeling his sizeable length stretching you out.
“Y-yes,” You pant, carnal desire outweighing any solid reasoning at the moment. Chrollo continues to pound relentlessly into your cunt, burying his face in your neck. He’s coming undone, fucking you with a strength that has you breathless. You catch occasional guttural groans of your name and don’t want to admit how nice it sounds.
“I always knew you’d come around.” 
The sound of skin on skin fills the room, mixed in with his grunts and your moans. Squeezing your ass, his thrusts grow erratic, before he finally stills. Chrollo releases deep inside you, pulling you down onto him, hot ropes of cum filling you and seeping out.
He grits his teeth, shuddering at his release. All is still for a moment aside from your heavy chests. Chrollo gathers himself before you do, slowly pulling himself out. You feel his cum as it drips out of you and bite your lip at the possible implications. Everything is so warm and your body feels terribly sore, having to clutch onto him for stability when he puts you back down. Chrollo doesn’t seem to mind this, laughing as he runs his hands through your mousled hair.
“How precious.”
You yelp when he picks you up, bridal style this time, your face pressing against his chest.
“It looks like you needed some help there, dear.” Chrollo hums, placing you down onto the bed with a gentleness you weren’t used to. There’s no way any normal human could be this collected already. Taking deep breaths, you attempt to calm yourself, not wanting to be completely undone before him. Chrollo watches with intrigue while you do so, his eyes piercing through your trembling body. When you finally manage to get your breathing steady, he gently pushes your shoulders down and spreads your legs.
“Now, about that promise of mine,” he presses open-mouthed kisses from your ankle to your thighs, “I intend to keep it. We’ll keep going until you’re no longer able to stand.”
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Text
Magnetic: Chapter 3 - The Mandalorian
Pairing: The Mandalorian x You (Sort of. You meet him.)  (female reader insert; no ‘Y/N’)
Word count: 6,635
Rating: None necessary. 
Summary: Your journey across the galaxy to meet the Mandalorian with Grogu is well underway - but what will you find when you reach Nevarro and come face to helmet with him for the first time? ... And where will you go from there? 
Author’s note:
Check out the earlier parts of this story by visiting my Masterlist
Here we go! I know the first couple chapters have been build up, but ... it kicks in here. Thank you all so much for reading this one and sending messages and leaving comments. I can’t wait for you to see what’s coming. I’m still adding people to the tag list, so if you want on ... LMK. 
* Cara Dune is mentioned in this chapter and in future chapters, but the only physical detail I mention is her hair (I think) - so just imagine her as someone else if you need to. I get the controversy over the actress, but I love the character and she needed to be there because Reader needs another female to speak to about Mando that’s going to tell it like it is.*
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(banner made by @malionnes)
For the third morning in a row, you were curled up on the floor in the cargo hold of the light freighter transporting you from the Academy’s planet to Nevarro. Your destination was a barren planet located smack dab in the center of the Ash Worlds sector, and you’d never been so far from home. 
 It was a long trip, even traveling through hyperspace, and you were growing anxious. But it’s the last day. You sighed, stretching out, and were surprised to see that Grogu wasn’t next to you anymore. I wonder where he… But you figured it out quickly, following the sounds of laughter into the cockpit, where the child was sitting in the copilot’s seat, staring out the front window of the ship and into space. “You’re not bothering Terys, are you, kid?” He turned his head up and toward you and the woman laughed, shaking hers. 
 “He’s not. He climbed in here all on his own, but he’s just been sitting and watching.”Good. You weren’t uncomfortable on the ship, but were looking forward to stretching your legs when you landed, breathing fresh air and figuring out what came next.For both of us.  “We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace in about an hour, and then it’s only a few more from there. We made good time.” 
 “No, Terys, you made good time.” Sliding around the seat, you reached down, picking Grogu up and settling him in your lap, facing forward. ‘I’m surprised they let you pilot us out here, I’m sure you have so much more to do, you’re the -” 
 “I wanted to.” She turned her head toward yours, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Never seen a real Mandalorian before.” You laughed at that, feeling her excitement, though you’d been practicing keeping yourself more closed off in preparation for meeting him yourself. You’d told Grogu what you were doing, telling him that you didn’t want to overhear anything you weren’t supposed to, but he wrapped his fingers around yours, squeezing. Harder with beskar. 
 You hadn’t even considered that. Beskar was exceedingly rare, and the only time you’d seen it in person was when you’d handled the pendant Grogu wore around his neck; gleaming silver in the shape of a Mythosaur. You knew it was strong, knew that it was valuable, and also knew that the Mandalorian was covered in it, mainly as a result of the spoils of his assignment to find and return Grogu in the first place. But Grogu could read him, at least partially, because he …  “You might not even see one this time, Terys. He might not be there when we land, there could be delays, or -” 
 “Master Skywalker sent a transmission. He’ll be there, he’s already landed.” You couldn’t help smiling at the thought that within a few hours, Grogu would be reunited with the man, and your adventure would begin. “I’m going to land the ship and head into the town with you, spend the night, refuel,  and then leave tomorrow. There has to be a reason I’m there, so I can’t just touch down and then take off.” She was right - but you didn’t reply right away, focusing on Grogu, who was babbling away on your lap, one hand clutching the pendant, the other resting on your forearm. Keeping yourself occupied, kid?  “He … they trust you, but I’m supposed to make sure that -”
 “That the kid’s safe, right?” You looked down. “I get it. He’s important, and he’s … it makes sense.” You knew that once you left the ship, you’d need to keep it with you at all times, but your lightsaber was tucked into your bag, along with your cloak and the few other things you’d brought from the Academy. Essentials, you thought. Packed light, just like he … Since you didn’t know how long you’d be gone, you’d cleaned out your quarters, storing everything you didn’t take in one of the unused lower rooms. You carried more credits in your bag than you ever had before in your life, and you knew that Grogu also had his fair share tucked away, packed by someone else while you took care of everything you needed to. “Gotta make sure everyone’s who they say they are, right?” 
 “Yeah.” Terys settled back in her chair, rotating it slightly toward you. “Marshal on the planet’s name is Cara Dune, I’ve been in contact with her, and she -” But you widened your eyes, looking down at Grogu. Cara! Your friend! You bounced him on your lap a few times, hearing the sound of his laughter. “She’s excited to see him again, I guess she was there when Master Skywalker found Grogu.” Of course she was. 
 It was fuzzy, because he’d been groggy, but Grogu’s memories were filled with the people that had been on the ship - and in the room with him - when he first met Luke and the shiny blue and white droid that rarely left the man’s sight. You knew their names and faces well, knew how he felt about each of them, and were ready to meet them yourself, if given the chance. “Who wouldn’t be excited to see him, hmm?” Grogu’s grip on your arm suddenly tightened, and you went quiet, thinking. Use the fresher, change clothes, get Grogu ready. You knew you had time, but you were restless after waking, and weren’t ready to eat. Go. Fine here. He was making noises again, turning on your lap, and only a few seconds later, Grogu was looking up at you, hands hanging at his sides. “What?” He blinked slowly, tilting his head, but Grogu didn’t reply - and you didn’t catch a single one of his thoughts. 
 --- 
 The drop from hyperspace hadn’t been as sudden as you thought it would be, and by the time you’d begun the landing process, you were giddy with excitement. Everything’s new. Everything is … I’ve never done any of this before. Grogu was in his floating cradle in the cockpit, giving you the opportunity to gather all of your things together, but you were somewhat concerned with how quiet he was. You ok, kid? Pausing as you loaded the bags next to the ramp, you concentrated on him. You’re quiet. Fine. There was a pause. Scared. Dropping the last bag, you quickly went back to where he and Terys were, scooping him out of the container and sitting down again, strapping yourself in. Why are you scared? Been too long. “Oh, Grogu.” You dropped your head, kissing the top of his, and saw that Terys was pointedly trying to ignore the two of you, hands on the navigational equipment as she guided the ship toward the planet. What if -
 You could feel that he was nervous, the apprehension making his tiny body rigid. Oh, no. You have nothing to worry about. He’s gonna be so happy to see you. He relaxed - slightly - and you continued to think, keeping your eyes forward. He’s your dad, kid. He loves you. He missed you. You’ll see. He didn’t answer back, and though you couldn’t hear his actual thoughts, you realized that you could still feel his emotions. You hiding from me now? A single word came back - the force of it surprising you. Yes. Well fine, then. You kissed the top of his head again, holding back a smile. I didn’t want to know what you were thinking anyway. He laughed at that, and you watched Terys turn her head toward you, smiling too. “You talking to him?” 
 “Yeah.” You sighed, eyes still on the planet in front of you as it came into focus. You were beneath the clouds, but high enough to keep you well above the jagged peaks of the arid landscape below you, and it was unlike anything you’d expected. There aren’t any trees, there’s nowhere to… The planet that the Academy was on wasn’t as forested as your home planet, but this was a drastic difference from both. Instead of trees and water, you saw only scrubby brush and cracked, dry ground - presumably from the lava fields you knew ran across the planet. There’s water somewhere, though. Otherwise … “Yeah, it’s easier to think sometimes, just makes the conversation go faster, you know?” She nodded in agreement. “I’m so used to just thinking when I’m with him, not having to speak, and it’s going to take some getting used to since the Mandalorian isn’t …” 
 “I’ve heard they’re hard to handle.” Terys pressed a few buttons above her head and the ship began descending slowly. “Especially this one. He’s got a reputation. People don’t … people don’t cross him.” You stayed silent, waiting. “And how that he’s King of Mandalore? People talk. I hear a lot when I fly between planets, and I think that between the two of them?” She gestured to Grogu with one hand. “You’re gonna have your hands full.” Considering her words, you rolled your eyes. 
 “I’m not here to have my hands full of anything except this little one.” You tightened your hold on Grogu briefly. “The Mandalorian is an -” 
 “He’s waiting for us.” She paused. “Well, for the two of you.” Squinting your eyes, you saw that she was right, and you felt your heart rate increase. “Looks like there’s a couple speeders, too. At least we won’t have to walk.” You locked your eyes on the single figure in the distance, watching as it grew larger by the second. There he is, kid. Grogu grew restless as you got closer, and by the time you were able to see the sunlight glinting off the top of his helmet, he was struggling to get off of your lap, the sounds coming out of his mouth a combination of frustration and excitement. 
 “Hey, buddy. Hang on.” You tried to comfort him, even though you knew it was useless, and as soon as you felt the gentle thump of the landing gear making contact with the planet’s surface, you were unbuckled and out of your seat, heading for the door. “I think we can leave the bags for now, and maybe his carriage too. We’ll get it all later.” Down. Down. Down. Terys’ reply was lost in Grogu’s high pitched squeals, and with a short laugh, you crouched down, setting his feet on the floor and tugging his robe - the one he’d come to the Academy in - back into place. “Please be careful. The last thing I want is for you to trip and fall, and for him to think -” I’m fine. He shuffled closer to the ramp, and before you could say anything else, it began to lower, the hot, dry air rushing in. 
 Grogu moved as soon as he could, following the ramp as it descended, you only a few steps behind him. You’d never seen him move so quickly, and even though you wanted to call out to him, telling him to slow down, you didn’t, hanging back and crossing your arms over your chest as you followed his footsteps through the dirt and dust toward the Mandalorian. He’d moved too, in the time that it took you to land and settle in, and you figured that the man was only twenty yards away from the ship - but you didn’t focus on him, instead watching Grogu’s path. Go get him, kid. 
 He wasn’t yelling; instead, as he moved, he made a noise you’d never heard before, a series of coos and warblings that rose in volume the closer he got. Close your mind. You let out a deep breath, reminding yourself that you weren’t here to listen to others - there was no reason to - and you didn’t want to intrude on their reunion. 
 When Grogu was only a few yards away, you finally glanced up, watching as the Mandalorian’s cape fluttered in the breeze, the man dropping to one knee and holding an arm out. “Grogu.” You didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was thinking; it was perfectly clear in the single, heavily modulated word, the last syllable catching in his throat. The child’s head barely reached the man’s knee level, but he kept his arms stretched out, ears flapping with each step as the final gap was closed. You felt the moment that they made contact with each other; a blindingly joyful reunion, and your lips parted, one hand reaching up to cover them as your teeth dug into the muscle between your thumb and forefinger, not wanting to make any noise. Oh, stars. 
 The Mandalorian stood after gathering Grogu into his arms, and you finally took a few more steps closer when you saw the child reach up with both hands, fingertips touching either side of the helmet as the man lowered his forehead toward the child’s. He’s so tiny. He’s never looked this small before. They stayed like that for long moments, heads bowed together, and though it was brief, you saw the shake of the heavily armored shoulders, the rise and fall of the man’s chest as he took in deep breaths. How it should be. This is … “Thank you.” You sucked in a breath, hand dropping to your side as the Mandalorian straightened up, tilting his head to the side and looking in your direction around Grogu’s head as he said your name. “For bringing him ho… here.”
 “Of …” You swallowed hard, moving closer. “Of course. I’m more than happy to…” Glancing between the two of them, you watched as he shifted Grogu effortlessly into the crook of his elbow, the kid facing you once more. “And look how happy he is. Totally worth it.” The man glanced down at Grogu and then back at you, wordlessly. “Right, kid?” His ears down, Grogu only looked at you for a few seconds before he stared back up at the man holding him, his grip on the gloved fingers and forearm tightening. 
 “Your things, are they on the -” You heard the tightness in his voice, the man hesitating when he spoke. “Are his -” He doesn’t want to do this now, he just wants … 
 “They are.” You gestured toward the speeders, noticing that only one was a single rider. “But go.” He cocked his head slightly, waiting. “Terys - the pilot - and I will load everything. Take him and go back into town. You guys have some catching up to do. You need some privacy.” The Mandalorian shifted on his feet and then turned, taking two steps toward one of the speeders before he glanced back over his shoulder, the side profile of his helmet almost more intimidating than looking at it head on. 
 “There’s a small cantina, next to the inn?” You acknowledged the words. “Go there after you’ve settled into your room, I’ll… we’ll meet you there.” That isn’t enough time for you.  
 “Mandalorian?” You finally spoke, willing your voice not to shake. “Take your time. How about … I’ll meet you at sundown? That’s a few hours from now.” He didn’t answer, and you spoke again, reaching up to rub at your outer bicep, your skin warm and dry beneath your fingers from only a few minutes in the bright sunlight. “There’s no rush.” You didn’t think that he would speak again, but he surprised you and did, after giving you a single nod and then turning his head to face forward, toward the arch leading into town. 
 “No, there isn’t.” Staying in place, you watched as he carefully loaded Grogu into one of the side bags, tightening the straps to make sure he didn’t fall out. Starting the speeder, the Mandalorian took off in the opposite direction - without looking back. Bye, kid. See you soon.
 “Well that was something.” Startled, you spun back around toward your ship, seeing that Terys was standing a few feet behind you, both hands on her hips and her eyes following the plume of dust from behind the moving speeder. “Guess we’re on our own?” She was amused, you could hear it in her voice and see it written on her face, but she wasn’t mad. She still didn’t get to meet him.
 “They needed time. And obviously, this is … he planned this. We’re close enough that we didn’t need the speeders, but he…” You felt yourself smile and you looked down at the ground, nodding. “He did this for Grogu.” You had seen countless memories of riding speeders from Grogu’s point of view; the landscape flying by, almost able to feel the wind against your skin. “It’s fine. We don’t have much to load, and that speeder’s plenty big enough for both of us.” You turned to face her, a wide smile on your lips. “I’ll buy you a drink once we get into town and get our rooms.” 
 “Deal.” 
 --- 
 A few hours later, you and Terys were sitting at a table in the corner of the small cantina, cups of ale in front of you. You’d already eaten, and though the food on the ship wasn’t bad, it was nice to have a freshly prepared meal in your stomach, something both of you agreed on. “How is it, for you?” She lifted her cup to her mouth, taking a long drink. “Are places like this worse than the Academy, because everyone’s just -” I didn’t … no. You blinked, realizing that even though there were plenty of people in the room, their thoughts weren’t overwhelming you. “Actually …” You took a drink of your own, eyes moving over the others gathered in the space. “When I was in training, before I stopped?” She nodded, waiting. “One of the Masters told me that everything depends on how … prevalent, I guess, the Force is.” Explain it better. “It doesn’t matter how many people there are somewhere, because it’s everywhere, it just… there are certain places in the galaxy where it’s stronger, where more people … are aware of it?” You stopped. “I’ve never really explained it before, because I’ve only really been a few places for longer than a few days at a time. But it’s not as strong here, so I can sort of feel what people are thinking, but I’d have to really concentrate to hear them clearly. At the Academy, I have to actively close myself off just to keep myself from overloading sometimes.” It had taken time, but as the months passed, you found it easier. People still get through, like Bari, but … “Since everyone there is… at a different level, I guess? When it comes to using the Force? Some people can keep their thoughts from me on their own, and others … can’t.”
 “That makes sense.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Can you still feel Grogu here, though? Wouldn’t it be dangerous to send you off knowing that, if - “
“I can. I can always feel him.” You took another drink, the liquid cold against your throat. “And I think it’s because we’ve been so close for the last year. But like I said, I’d have to really work to have a conversation with him at this distance in a place like this.” Luke and the other Masters were much more knowledgeable than you, and you figured that they knew what they were doing sending the two of you off. If it was dangerous, it wouldn’t have happened. “It’s good, though, it gives him … them privacy. And they deserve that.” 
 “They’re here.” She widened her eyes. “Listen.” You did, not understanding at first, but then you got it. The room had gone almost silent at the entrance of the Mandalorian and Grogu, who was once again nestled in his floating carriage, which you and Terys had dropped off at the inn’s counter. He’s got a history here, but they’re … they’re afraid of him. You turned in your seat, making eye contact with Grogu, who peered over the edge of his carrier, waving at you. Hi, you. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Terys whispered. “It’s not like ... “ Not like what? 
 Others would likely have felt at a disadvantage if they were suddenly unable to read the room entirely, but it was almost a blessing to you. Sensing the emotions of those around you, you could handle. But constantly hearing their thoughts at random? I’m glad for the break. The Mandalorian stopped next to your table, and out of instinct, you reached for Grogu with both hands, freezing as you realized that you didn’t have to. Oh, I … Fighting back a frown, you winked at the kid instead, lowering both palms to the tabletop. This is going to take some getting used to. “Can I sit?” His words surprised you, but you didn’t hesitate. 
 “You don’t need to ask permission.” You looked up, shrugging your shoulders as your eyes landed on the darkened T-shape of his visor. “This is more your town than mine.” 
 “It’s not.” He lowered himself into the seat with more agility than you would have thought possible for someone covered in so much beskar, hands resting on his lap. “Not … not anymore.” Slowly, the conversation in the room began again, but the Mandalorian didn’t speak, and neither did you, instead turning your attention back to Grogu, who’d settled down, head turning back and forth between you and the man. 
 Unsure of how to fill the silence, you glanced at Terys, who shrugged, and then back at Grogu. “Have you eaten, kid? We can order you something.” 
 “We did.” The modulated voice came again, the Mandalorian’s head angling down toward the carriage. “I don’t know when he usually -”
 “Set mealtimes, but he snacks a lot.” You admitted it, finally reaching for Grogu and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “I’m sure you know how much he loves eating.” He does. It was a relief to hear Grogu’s thoughts again, even after only a few hours, and even moreso to hear how relaxed he sounded. “Can’t blame him though, he’s really busy all day, so -” You saw the Mandalorian lean back in  his seat, your gaze rising from Grogu to the man. Oh, I should introduce … “This is Terys, by the way. She’s our pilot, and -” 
 “You made good time.” He spoke directly to the woman without addressing her, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew by the shift of his head’s position that he was looking at her - or at the very least, was looking in her direction. “Have you flown to Nevarro before?” 
 “N-no.” She straightened up, the tremor in her voice audible. “Flown a lot of places, but mostly mid and inner-rim lately. I used to exclusively fly in the Core, but …” She lifted her cup again, gesturing with it. “Things change.” 
 “They do.” His tone gave nothing away, and you found yourself leaning slightly toward him, just watching. “Fast.” You wondered how quickly his life moved in his mind, what it felt like to be the man, how much he thought about all of the changes that had taken place throughout his lifetime. Ask. Your attention snapped back to Grogu in surprise. No way. You glanced at the Mandalorian and then back at the child. I wouldn’t ever. 
 “So.” Terys cleared her throat, still holding her cup in one hand. “You know Nevarro well?” She was focused on the Mandalorian, her eyes on his helmet. “I hear it’s changed a lot in the -”
 “It has.” You looked up and toward the source of the new voice. “I’m Cara Dune, Marshal of Nevarro for the New Republic.” She stuck out her hand and you reached up to shake it, grinning at the woman. Pulling her hand from yours, she gave Terys a quick nod but didn’t offer to shake her hand, instead leaning over and scooping Grogu out of his carriage, lifting him up as she squealed in happiness, his arms waving. The Mandalorian followed the movement with a subtle shift of his body, the lower edge of his helmet engled upward. “Oh, you little womp rat, you got big.” Cara moved to the other side of the man, sitting on the bench seat and keeping Grogu close. “Wanted to come see you earlier, but I got told no and so did Karga. He’ll be here soon, it’ll be like -” She glanced at the Mandalorian, wrinkling her nose as Grogu’s fingers closed around a loose lock of her hair. “Like old times.” 
 “Karga’s coming? Tonight?” The Mandalorian let out a breath. “Dank farrik. I thought -” 
 “He wouldn’t miss it, Mando.” Cara tweaked Grogu’s nose with her fingers and then leaned over, placing him back atop his blankets. “You know how he is. Plus I thought -” 
 “I do.” It was only two words, but you heard the finality in them. “Can I … talk to you?” He swiveled his head toward you, one gloved hand landing on the tabletop. “Outside?” Though confused at the abrupt shift in conversation, you nodded and then stood, draining the rest of your drink and telling Terys to order you another if she wanted. He stepped away from the table and you followed the Mandalorian back through the cantina, trying to ignore the looks you got from the other patrons. Once outside, you glanced up at the slowly darkening sky, smiling at the sun setting in the distance as you walked next to the Mandalorian, headed slowly in the direction of the ships. “I wanted to talk to you.” I figured, otherwise… But you stopped yourself, realizing that you needed to disregard everything you assumed about the man, waiting for him to reveal the truth to you. 
 “That’s probably a good idea, since we’ll be in … well, since we’ll both …” The Mandalorian stopped suddenly, turning his entire body toward you. His hands hung at his sides, and you stared at him, waiting. You noticed the blaster at his hip, the bandolier across his chest, a smaller one secured around his boot. He would have been imposing without the ammunition, but it added to the overall effect - you knew it and he knew it, though you didn’t think he considered it much. It’s just his life. 
 “I’ve heard about you.” He paused. “About people like you, that can … like him, like Ahsoka.” You waited for him to continue, and after a few seconds, he did. “I know Grogu can talk with you, but Skywalker also warned me … can you read my mind?” It was blunt, but you appreciated the candor from him. “Do you know what -” 
 “Can I try?” It was bold of you, but you knew that sometimes, the non-Force sensitive could feel when you were listening to them, and you didn’t want to shock him if that was the case. “You might feel a -” 
 “Yes.” Turning your attention toward the Mandalorian, you looked again at the visor, thinking. Wait. 
 “If there’s anything you don’t want me to know, try to … not think of it. It’s… Sometimes I just see everything, and I…” You swallowed. “I know that your name isn’t something you give freely. I know that to see your face is … unacceptable.” He straightened his shoulders. “Grogu’s … I know he’s seen your face, and he’s kept it from me this whole time, even without me asking, so you don’t have to …” He stood still in front of you, and when he didn’t speak, you lowered your head, sighing. “Alright. Anyway.” You brought your eyes back up and looked at his head again, focusing. 
 You could feel the man’s presence when you concentrated, a low, thrumming energy, and you realized that he was tightly coiled, though his posture didn’t betray him. He’s always ready, he’s always on edge, and he’s … You felt that he was relieved, too, but there were no solid thoughts, nothing in focus. Frowning, you took a deeper breath, still eyeing him, and even though you picked up on some of the people around you, you couldn’t get a read on the Mandalorian. “Well?” 
 “I …” You lifted a hand, head shaking back and forth. “Can I touch your arm? Or maybe your hand? Even through the glove, it …” He didn’t move for long seconds, but then he lifted his right arm from his side, turning his palm up toward you. You didn’t hesitate, reaching up and placing your hand flat atop his and closing your eyes in concentration. The emotions were stronger, and you sensed more anxiety, discontent deep within the man, but still no clear words or thoughts except - “Grogu.” You opened your eyes, pulling your hand back. “All I can … I can feel you, but … the only thing I know you’re thinking about is the kid. I think it’s the beskar, it interferes with …” You chewed on your lip. “Your thoughts are safe, Mandalorian. I’ll be … the stronger your emotions, the more likely I am to feel them, but I… oh, stars, it’s going to be amazing traveling with you. The kid’s trying to hide more of his thoughts from me. I can’t read you. It’s going to be silent for once, and I won’t have to -” 
 “I thought of him every day.” His voice was quieter than it had been. “I promised him I’d see him again, but part of me thought …” His arms were crossed over his chest, head turned to the side. “I … thought -” 
 “Well he’s here now. And he will be for a while. I’ll try to keep out of your way as much as possible. This trip isn’t about me, and I don’t want -” 
 “He needs you.” The Mandalorian’s helmet was facing forward again. “You’re here because he needs you. I saw you reach for him earlier, and then stop. You don’t have to do that.” I do. I do, because he’s not … 
 “If you say so.” You shrugged, deciding to follow his lead. “Did you bring me out here just to make sure that I couldn’t read your thoughts? Or -” He chuckled, or at least you thought he did, and then went quiet again. 
 “You aren’t afraid of me.” It wasn’t a question, but he didn’t give you a chance to reply before he continued. “I’m glad. But … why? Have you met other -”
 “No, you’re my first Mandalorian.” You rubbed a hand against your cheek, looking down and then back up. “But the kid, he … he’s told me a lot about you, and I guess… he trusts you. So I do, too.” 
 “Trust is earned.” The Mandalorian said your name, taking a half step closer and ducking his head slightly. “It has to be. Otherwise it means nothing.” He was right, but you were steadfast in your resolve, at least on your end. I have no reason not to trust you. Luke wouldn’t have sent us here if there was reason to doubt you. “Then I hope to earn yours.” You smiled at him, reaching up to push hair behind your ear. “Also, I … I know I asked if I could call you ‘Mandalorian’, but I didn’t even consider … you’re the Mand’alor, so should I call you that instead? I don’t want to -” The last thing you wanted to do was offend him, so you figured getting things out into the open as quickly as possible was the best call. 
 “You can call me Mando.” He straightened up, and you watched him look around at the still busy street. “When we get back to Mandalore, that may change, depending on …” He stopped. “But we aren’t going back to Mandalore right away.” We’re not? But I thought … “Meeting on Nevarro wasn’t just because it was convenient. I’m here to …” Eyes widening, you glanced down as you felt him growing excited, the anxiety slipping back slightly. Oh, he’s here to… “I didn’t want to talk about it in front of the pilot, because it’s not her concern, but …”
 “You’re here for bounty pucks.” You whispered  the words, feeling your own heart rate increase. “But I thought you wanted to spend time with -”
 “I do.” He sighed again. “If we go back to Mandalore right away, I won’t get to … when I’m there, things are … more political.” Of course they are, you’re  the King, and you’re expected to … “But here, or up there?” He pointed toward  the sky. “It… isn’t.” 
 “I understand.” You did, and hoped that he knew you were telling the truth. “And he hunted with you before, so…” You shrugged again. “You’ll keep him safe, Mando.” Saying it for the first time, you felt the sound of it pull at your lips before you smiled again, closing your eyes. 
 “No.” Your eyes reopened, head cocked to the side in question as he stared at you. “We will.” 
 --- 
 After returning inside, you’d gone back to your table, sliding back in and lifting the new drink, toasting with Cara and Terys, the Mandalorian again leaning back in his seat silently. By the time Karga arrived, clapping a hand down onto the other man’s shoulder and introducing himself loudly to you and the pilot, you were feeling more at ease than you’d ever felt out with the others from the Academy. It’s because there’s no pressure. I don’t owe any of these people anything, aside from Grogu, and … it feels good. 
 Cara and Terys stepped away to play darts, leaving you, Mando, Karga and Grogu at the table, the little one climbing out of his cradle and toddling over the bench to the second man, climbing into his lap and settling there for a few minutes, the newcomer welcoming him excitedly. He really does have friends here. You smiled at the sight, introducing yourself and striking up a conversation with the man while Mando again sat back, letting the two of you talk. It hadn’t taken long for Grogu to climb from Karga’s lap and into his father’s, and even as you continued your conversation, you saw the man’s gloved hand rise, his thumb stroking over the top curve of the kid’s ear. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. 
 Grogu nodded off after only a few minutes, but Mando made no move to put him back into the cradle, instead asking Karga directly for the discussed pucks, one hand curled protectively around the kid’s body. “She knows. I told her earlier. You don’t need to hide them.” 
 “I don’t need the Jedi on my tail.” Karga eyed you. “You won’t -”
 “I’m not a Jedi. And it’s not like I’m checking in with them daily, either.” You shrugged, finishing your drink. “You don’t get a reputation like his without being good at what you do. As long as they know the kid’s ok, they don’t need anything else.” You looked at the Mandalorian, giving him another smile. “And you don’t have to worry about me saying anything about what he does, or what you do.” 
 “His reputation?” Karga laughed. “I have one too, you know.” But he was still smiling, reaching into his deep pocket and pulling out a handful of the pucks, quickly stacking them and sliding them toward the man that sat to your left. “Five of them to start. You know the rules. I picked mid-tier, just to -”
 “That’s fine. Standard payment?” Karga nodded. “Good.” He reached for the stack, picking it up and glancing at the discs before reaching down and securing them in one of his waist pouches without flipping through them.  “We -” 
 “So, Mandalorian.” Terys was back at the table, Cara a few steps behind her. “What -” 
 “Terys, stop.” You whispered the words, reaching forward to touch her arm. “You don’t -” You could feel the interest rolling off of her, and you were irritated that you hadn’t picked up on it earlier. She wants to go to bed with him, that’s… “You’ve had too -”
 “I have not.” She cleared her throat and you watched as Grogu was shifted from the Mandalorian’s lap and back into his cradle, the sides closing with a few punches of the buttons on his vambrance. “I just know what I want.” I tried. She dropped back into her seat and propped her head on her hand, eyes bright. “You’re a man under there, right? So you -”
 You watched as Cara’s eyebrows rose and she turned away from the table, headed for the bar, Karga not far behind her. Oh, boy. How do I … “I’m not… interested.” His voice was even, but you heard no emotion in it, the Mandalorian’s visor pointed directly at the pilot. “It wouldn’t … no.” She pouted for a few seconds, and you took the opportunity to stand, looking down at where the man still sat. 
 “I’ll see you in the morning? Which ship is yours, I can meet you there.” You glanced at the carriage. “We -” The Mandalorian’s attention shifted to you; the whole upper half of his body turning along with his head.
 “I’ll need to unlink his carriage, otherwise -” What? No. 
 “He’s staying with you tonight, Mando.” You gave him a gentle smile. “Not me.” You watched the set of his arms tighten, keeping the smile on your face. “So just tell me -”
 “But you said he comes to your room at night. What if he wakes up and -”
 “He won’t.” You were sure of it. “If he wakes up, he’ll know you’re there, and won’t even try to find me.” He doesn’t need me anymore. You caught Cara’s eye and the woman tilted her head toward the door, one eyebrow raised. I’m trying.  “Goodnight, Mando.” Holding a hand out toward Terys, you laughed again, helping her to her feet. “Let’s get you to bed. You’re gonna need sleep to fly out tomorrow.” 
 As the woman stepped around the table, she reached out with one hand, settling it on the Mandalorian’s shoulder briefly. He stiffened immediately, but you doubted the stumbling woman noticed. He doesn’t like to be touched unexpectedly. Good to know.  “I’m in room 5 if you change your mind.”  But she let you lead her from the bar, and you waved goodbye to the other two before stepping out into the darkness of the street. “You shoulda helped me. Did you see the size of him? He would have -” 
 “You just met him, you can’t expect…” But the woman laughed, the two of you headed back for the inn, and though it was only a few steps away, it seemed to take forever. It’s a good thing we aren’t sleeping on the ship.
 “He’s a bounty hunter turned King, he has to live in the moment.” She sighed and unlocked her door. “Maybe he’ll show up.” Yeah, I doubt that. “Could you read him?” She leaned in the doorway, frowning. “What’s going on in that head of his? Could you see what he looks like under there?” 
 “I don’t know. I couldn’t really see anything.” You wrinkled your nose. “And I have no idea. I don’t want to.” That’s a lie. “Goodnight. I’ll see you before we go our separate ways tomorrow.” She closed the door and you walked to your room, locking the door behind you and laying down on the bed without even changing. There’s no point. I’m just … 
 Stretching out, you realized how exhausted you were - and how much you appreciated the small but soft mattress. Back onto a ship tomorrow. Hopefully there’s a bench large enough for me. Sighing, you closed your eyes, replaying the day - and your interactions with everyone on Nevarro - in your mind. What a busy few hours. But that night, you dreamed about the man’s eyes again - and this time, you could see the skin at the outside corners of them - both sides deeply creased, as if he was smiling. 
 ---
Magnetic/Din Djarin Tag List:
@the-blind-assassin-12​ @pheedraws​ @alraedesigns​ @malionnes​ @deceiverofgodss @thisisparadisemylove​ @siegfriedkingsglaive​ @valkblue​ @hehe-oof @jynrumbly​​
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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years
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Navigating Fatherhood - Fred Weasley
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Title: Navigating Fatherhood Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred knew being a dad would be an adjustment, but he never imagined it would be this hard. Early mornings, tantrums and meltdowns are all new territory for him, and each time something goes wrong he can’t help but feel like a failure. Complete and utter exhaustion seems to be his new normal, and he can’t seem to keep up with his kids’ ever changing moods.  Luckily for him he’s got the best co-parent in the world who knows just how to make him feel better. And it helps that the good parts of being a dad certainly outweigh the bad ones. A/N: first part of the dad!fred mini-series!! I really wanted to showcase some of the more difficult times I think Fred would experience as a first-time dad to small children, but also make sure to show some of the more tender parts as well! Feedback is always appreciated!! Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27​ @thefifthweasley
Series Masterlist Based on Honey, Flowers and Pinky Promises
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“Oof,” Fred groans as a little elbow digs into his thigh. One of his eyes slowly opens and he can’t help but smile when he sees Phoenix looking up at him sheepishly.
“Sorry, Daddy,” Phoenix whispers as to not wake up Y/N.
Fred yawns and sits up a little. The room is still dark, so he figures it’s only a little past midnight. “That’s alright, little man. Come here.” Fred opens his arms up, melting as Phoenix crawls up the bed and onto his chest. He wraps his arms around the little boy in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “What’s wrong, Phoenix? Why aren’t you in bed?”
“Because I’m done sleeping,” Phoenix answers, looking up at Fred.
Fred chuckles and brings a hand up to stroke his son’s fiery red hair. He’s only been in Phoenix’s life for a few days and Fred can’t believe how much he already loves him. Every time he thinks his heart can’t fill with more love, all he has to do is look at Phoenix or his sister and it swells ten times bigger.
“What do you mean you’re done sleeping?” Fred asks, his tone light. “It’s only,” Fred pauses to look at the clock on the bedside table, and he has to do a double take to make sure he’s seeing it correctly. “It’s 5 am?” Fred is still exhausted, as if his head had just barely hit the pillow before Phoenix crawled into bed with him and Y/N.
The door to their bedroom creaks as it slowly opens then, and a moment later Fred can see Electra’s head poking through the opening. She smiles when Fred’s eyes meet hers, and she runs into the room to launch herself up onto the bed. Electra crawls up towards where Fred and Phoenix are, pushing her hair out of her eyes and Fred lifts one of his arms up so she can burrow into his chest as well.
“Good morning, Daddy!” she greets happily before turning to her brother. “Mornin’ stinky.”
“Good morning to you too butt face,” Phoenix greets, sticking his tongue out at her.
“It’s wonderful to see you Angel but what are you two doing awake?” Fred asks, causing both kids to look up at him. “The suns not even awake yet.”
Electra gives Fred a look, and he can’t help but chuckle at how confused she looks. “What do you mean? We always wake up before the sun! The we get to say good morning to it when it finally wakes up too!” Phoenix nods along in agreement.
Fred raises his eyebrows. The last time he’d been awake at 5 am was because he didn’t go to bed until 6 am. “You guys get up this early every day?”
Y/N laughs then, causing Fred to look over at her. She rolls over to face Fred, a bemused smile on her face. “Every single one,” she answers, stretching out her limbs. “Good morning my monkeys.”
“Good morning Mummy!” Electra greets happily, crawling off of Fred so Y/N can cuddle her into her chest.
Fred reaches down to stroke Y/N’s cheek, a soft smile appearing on his face when she turns her head to press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Mornin’ love. Hope we didn’t wake you up.”
Y/N shakes her head with a chuckle, reaching out to ruffle Phoenix’s hair. “Don’t worry about it, Freddie. I’m so used to waking up this early my body just kinda does it on its own these days.”
“Really?” Fred asks in disbelief. But he can tell that Y/N is being truthful with him just by her appearance. Her eyes are already bright, not an ounce of sleep still clinging to them and her voice is clear. Fred can still feel the heaviness of exhaustion in his eyes and his voice is still deep and grumbly. “I feel like I barely slept.”
Y/N gives him a small smile. “It’s okay, Freddie. You’re still getting used to all this.” She sits up then, and both kids look over at her. “Come on then, monkeys. Let’s head downstairs while your Dad gets some more rest before he has to go to work.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Fred insists. He’s already missed out on so much of their lives, and just a few nights ago he’d promised Y/N, Electra, Phoenix and himself that from that moment on they were going to be a family, and it’s a promise he intends on keeping. “Let’s go do some coloring, you guys can make me some pretty pictures to hang up in my office.”
Fred clutches Phoenix to his chest as he stands up and settles him on his hip. Electra abandons Y/N and runs at Fred, jumping into his outstretched arm. He starts to head downstairs then, both twins giggling as Fred tickles their sides.
-
By the time Fred actually has to start getting ready to leave for the joke shop he feels like a zombie. Coloring only kept Electra and Phoenix occupied for so long, and Fred has spent the last hour and a half alternating between chasing them around the living room and tossing them up in the air and catching them. Thankfully they got distracted in a game of hide and seek and Fred was able to sneak upstairs.
“Blimey. What have I gotten myself into?” he muses with a shake of his head as he starts to head over to where his suit is hanging up. This is the first time that Fred has spent the night, and while Y/N did warn him that the twins can be a bit much in the morning, a 5 am wakeup call was not what he was expecting. He gets dressed slowly, already plotting how to sneak upstairs to his bedroom for a midday nap without George noticing. Today is their long day at the shop, they’ll both be there early to restock, and Fred is sure he’ll never make it to closing time without at least one nap.
Fred has just started to do up his tie when the bedroom door swings open and Electra barges in.
“Found you!” she shouts, looking around the room. When all she finds is Fred, her smile turns into a pout. “Oh, sorry Daddy. I thought Phoenix was hiding in here.”
“It’s alright, Angel,” he assures her with a chuckle. He sits down on the end of the bed to pull his shoes on, watching as Electra climbs up to sit down next to him.
Electra reaches out to grab Fred’s tie, her eyes focused on the blinking pin in the shape of the shop’s logo on it. “Woah,” she sighs, sounding completely mesmerized. “That’s so cool!” When she looks up at Fred her eyes are wide, and he can’t help but laugh.
“You think so?” When Electra nods wildly Fred leans down to kiss the top of her head. “I’ll get you one, then, Angel. Then you can match with Daddy.”
“Wicked cool,” Electra announces. She watches Fred tie his shoes for a moment, a frown on her face. “Why are you getting all dressed up?”
“I’ve gotta go to work, Angel,” Fred explains. He kisses her on the top of the head one more time before heading to the dresser so he can fix his hair in the mirror.
“Work? What do you mean you have to go to work?” Electra asks, her disappointment evident in her tone. “Mummy works from home, why can’t you?”
When Fred turns around his heart breaks in his chest. Fat tears are rolling down Electra’s rosy cheeks and her lower lip is wobbling. “Oh Angel,” Fred coos, reaching out to her. Fred picks her up and holds her against his chest, one of his hands rubbing her back to try and calm her.
Electra presses her face into Fred’s neck as she sobs, her breath coming out in sharp pants. “I don’t want you to go!” she wails.
“Shh. It’s okay, baby,” Fred soothes, starting to gently sway her back and forth. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay? And I’ll have a pin just like mine for you to wear. And we’ll play together, and I’ll tuck you into bed and read you a bedtime story.” He pauses to press a few kisses to her forehead. “Does that sound good?”
Electra’s sobs start to quiet down and she pulls away to look at Fred. “I guess,” the little girl sniffles. “Will you be here tomorrow when I wake up?”
“Of course, Angel,” Fred promises with a smile. “I’ll be here every day when you wake up no matter how early it is.”
Electra holds her pinky out and Fred immediately hooks his around it, squeezing tightly.
-
After a few days of waking up early with the kids and going to bed late after finishing up some work Fred is practically dead on his feet. Normally he’d stay at the shop to take care of the day’s paperwork after closing, but ever since he found out about the twins he’s been skating out right after closing and taking it home with him. Between helping Y/N with the kids all evening and dealing with the massive amount of paperwork he always seems to have, Fred figures he’s only getting four or five hours of sleep before the twins are crawling into bed to start their day all over again.
“I don’t know how you did it on your own for so long,” Fred sighs as Y/N cuddles into his side. The kids are upstairs playing before bed and they’re having their first quiet moment alone together since the night they got back together. “Even with you to lean on I feel like I’m falling behind.”
Y/N looks up at Fred, smiling when he kisses her on the forehead. “You’re doing great, Freddie. The kids love you and all that matters to them is that you’re there with them and that you love them too.”
“I do love them. So much. More than I ever thought I could love anything,” he says softly. “But you make everything look so easy. It makes me feel like I’m never going to be good enough for them.”
Y/N sits up so she can look at Fred properly and grabs his face in her hands. “It wasn’t always so easy for me, Fred. I can’t tell you how many times I would mess up or forget something and end up crying endlessly. I spent a lot of time feeling like the worst mother in the world while the twins were growing up. Being a parent takes time to get used to, you gotta figure out what works best for you and your kids. Hell, I still feel like there’s loads more for me to learn as they grow up. All that matters is that you’re trying, Fred.”
Fred leans down and capture’s Y/N’s lips in a slow kiss, letting the movements of their mouths melt all of his stress away. She’s always known just what to say to talk Fred off of a ledge, and while his chest is still tight with worry, he doesn’t feel it as strongly anymore. Fred’s just started to deepen the kiss when the phone rings, and he pulls away with a groan.
“Your Mum has the best timing,” he jokes, pulling away from Y/N so she can go answer it.
“It’s time for the twins to go down anyway,” she chuckles. “Can you go up and start getting them ready? I’ll join you in a bit.”
Fred nods but stays on the couch until Y/N disappears into the kitchen so he can watch her hips sway as she walks away. Once he’s alone Fred bounds up the stairs, determined to get the kids to bed quickly in the hopes that he and Y/N can spend some time together in bed. There is a stack of paperwork that needs his attention on the kitchen table, but he can deal with George being cross tomorrow if it means getting to spend some time alone with Y/N.
When Fred reaches Electra’s doorway he leans up against the frame, just watching the twins play together for a moment. They’re talking to each other excitedly, passing toys between them. Fred never thought this would be his life at 22 but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He still can’t believe that these two pure, cheeky little Angels are his and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with them.
“Daddy!” Electra says suddenly, pulling Fred out of his thoughts.
Fred smiles down at her, opening up his arms to grab her off the floor as she runs at him. “Hi, Angel. Long time no see.” In reality, it can’t have been more than 30 minutes since Fred saw them last. He’d been helping Electra and Phoenix with some kind of art project when they both got bored and abandoned it to head upstairs to play.
“You’re so silly, Daddy! We just saw you downstairs!” Electra reminds him with an eyeroll.
“You’re right Angel, my mistake,” he chuckles pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Have you guys been having fun?”
Electra nods and wiggles in Fred’s grasp so he’ll let her go. Once her feet are back on the ground she’s running back towards her brother. “Load and loads and loads of fun!”
“Uh huh!” Phoenix agrees happily. “We built a tower, and then we knocked it down and then built it again. Then we played restaurant but that got really boring, so we’ve been playing with our stuffed animals!”
Fred nods along as Phoenix talks, amazed at how much energy they have in their tiny bodies. He makes a mental note to send his mum the biggest box of chocolates he can find as a part apology, part thank you for dealing with him as a child as he steps into the room. “I’m so glad you guys are having fun! But it’s time to start getting ready for bed now, okay?”
The energy in the room goes flat as both the twins turn to look at Fred.
“No, it’s not,” Electra insists, picking up one of her dolls.
Fred sighs, clearly this is going to be harder than he anticipated. “Yes, it is. Now let’s all clean up your toys so they’re ready for you to play with tomorrow and then we can get ready for bed and pick out a story for me to read to you. Sound good?”
“Sounds rubbish,” Phoenix responds, making both him and Electra laugh.
“Come on guys, let’s start cleaning up,” Fred encourages. He starts to pick up some of the things strewn about on the floor, trying to ignore the way Electra huffs at him.
“But I want to keep playing,” Electra whines, giving Fred her best puppy dog eyes.
Fred’s insides melt at the adorable look on her face, but he knows that if he gives in now he’ll regret it later. “I know you do, sweetheart. But it’s time for bed.” Fred pauses to put some of the things in his hand in their proper spots. “You guys can get up tomorrow and play all day, but for now it’s time to clean up.”
Phoenix and Electra share a look before they reluctantly start to clean up.
“Good job guys,” Fred praises, hoping it will motivate them to keep doing.
When they don’t say anything, Fred frowns and helps them pick up the few remaining things on the floor. This is the first time he’s had to be stern with them, and while he knows it was the right thing to do, he can’t help but feel like he’s messed up somehow. Fred continues to get them ready for bed, trying everything he can to get them to say something. But they continue to do as he asks in complete and utter silence, angry looks on their faces.
“Alright, what book do you want Daddy to read?” he asks quietly as they settle into Electra’s bed. Getting the twins ready for bed has somehow exhausted Fred even more and he’s ready to just read them a story, take Phoenix into his bed, and kiss them both good night.
“We don’t want you to read us a book,” Phoenix grumbles, looking up at Fred.
“Yeah, we want Mummy to read us a book. She’s nice to us,” Electra adds with a huff.
“Oh,” Fred says softly, feeling defeated. All the worries Y/N had washed away come flooding back, and Fred’s chest tightens so hard it feels like he can barely breathe. “Alright then. I’ll send her up.” Fred heads towards the door, pausing in the entryway so he can turn to look back at them. “Goodnight. I love you both.” He waits for a moment to see if they say anything back, and when they don’t he heads back down towards the kitchen, his heart heavy in his chest.
-
Much to Fred’s surprise, when Electra and Phoenix come to wake him and Y/N up the next morning, they both snuggle into his chest first. He thought they might still harbor some anger towards him, but they both demand he hug them 5 times before he leaves for work in the morning, and they’re both waiting by the front door to jump into his arms the second he gets back in the evening. It confuses the hell out of him, but he gladly accepts the snuggles and kisses.
“Alright, what movie are we watching?” Y/N asks as she enters the living room, a giant bowl of popcorn in her hands. It’s Friday evening, and they’ve decided to start a tradition to solidify their new family, so from now on every Friday will be family movie night.
“Frozen!” Electra announces excitedly as she bounds over to Y/N, a DVD case pressed close to her chest.
“Daddy’s never seen it! Can you believe that, Mummy?” Phoenix asks as he climbs up onto the couch, pressing himself as close to Fred as possible.
Y/N shakes her head with a laugh, handing Fred the bowl of popcorn so she can take the DVD from Electra. “I can’t, baby. We’ll have to be sure to sing the songs extra loud for him, okay?” She settles onto the couch, waving her wand to get the movie set up. “Come here, Ells, sit next to me.”
Electra doesn’t move from her spot in front of the couch. She’s facing Fred and Phoenix, her arms crossed and a deep pout on her face. “I wanted to sit next to Daddy!”
“Snooze you lose!” Phoenix taunts, sticking his tongue out at her.
“You can sit next to Daddy next week, Electra,” Y/N suggests softly. “Just come sit next to me so we can start the movie.”
Fred watches in amusement as Electra turns to glare at Y/N. Last night both Electra and Phoenix wanted nothing to do with him and now tonight they’re fighting over who gets to sit with him. He tries his best to keep the smile from his face, not wanting to encourage her behavior, but he’s struggling. It makes him feel good that his kids both love him enough to fight for his attention.
“But I wanted to sit with him tonight,” Electra whines.
“Here Angel, how about this,” Fred starts, causing her to look at him. Fred hands Y/N the bowl of popcorn so he can pick Phoenix up and move him closer towards his mother. “We’ll all move down a bit,” he continues, moving down the couch so he’s sitting next to Phoenix again. “And now there’s room for you on Daddy’s other side.”
Electra smiles brightly and scrambles up onto the new spot Fred created for her. She immediately snuggles into his side before looking up at him happily. “I love you Daddy.”
“Love you too, Angel,” Fred responds, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.
Phoenix makes a noise, snuggling into Fred’s other side. “I love you too, Daddy!” he announces.
“And I love you too, little man,” Fred says with a chuckle, kissing him on the forehead as well.
Y/N rolls her eyes fondly, her chest warm from the amount of love she has for the three of them. “Are you monkeys finally ready for the movie to start?” When all three of them nod she waves her wand, letting the opening song begin.
Electra and Phoenix both start singing along excitedly, and Fred kisses his plans of falling asleep goodbye.
-
“You sure you’ll be alright with them by yourself?” Y/N asks, eyeing Fred wearily.
Fred rolls his eyes, hitching Phoenix up onto his back higher. While bedtime had been a disaster the other night, Fred has been feeling more optimistic after family movie night. Clearly both Phoenix and Electra love him, and while he still feels like he can barely keep up with them, being able to spend this time with them and bond with them makes it all worth it.
“Y/N, we’ll be fine,” Fred assures her. There’s some kind of issue with one of the ads Y/N had written for tomorrow’s issue of the Daily Prophet and she needs to head into the office to take care of it.
“If you’re sure,” she responds, shrugging on her coat. “They can color or play with their toys but absolutely no screens and no sugar. It’s too close to bedtime,” Y/N reminds.
Fred chuckles and leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “This isn’t my first rodeo, Y/N. We’ll be fine. Right guys?”
Electra cheers from where she’s gripping onto Fred’s leg and Phoenix nods wildly over Fred’s shoulder.
“Daddy is the bestest Daddy in the world, Mummy! We’re gonna have loads of fun,” Phoenix promises.
Fred bites his lip, trying to contain the emotion he feels buzzing around in his chest. He’s had a hard few days parenting wise, but hearing Phoenix call him the best dad in the world has certainly made the struggle worth it. “See? Go on, get to work and sort everything out like you always do. And when you get back everything will be fine.”
“Alright, alright. I love you my monkeys, okay? You might be in bed when I get back, but I’ll come in to give you kisses, alright?” Y/N reaches over to ruffle Phoenix’s hair before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Electra’s head.
“Love you!” Both twins shout as Y/N steps into the fireplace, watching in awe as green fire swallows her up and takes her away.
“Hey Daddy?” Electra asks sweetly, plopping herself into Fred’s lap.
Y/N has been gone for nearly an hour and so far everything has gone smoothly. Fred brought their large box of blocks down from Phoenix’s room, and they’ve all been sitting on the floor together building random structures for the twins to knock down before building something else and repeating the process. Bedtime is quickly approaching and while Fred is a tad nervous that he’ll have to go through it alone again, he’s optimistic that it will go well.
“Yes, my Angel?” Fred responds, pressing a light kiss to her hair.
Electra looks up at Fred from under her eyelashes and the softest look she can muster is on her face. “Can we pretty, pretty, pretty please have some ice cream?”
Fred gives her a look. “No, sweetheart. It’s too close to bedtime.”
“Please,” she begs, sticking out her lower lip.
“No, Electra,” Fred says firmly. “And that’s the last time I’m going to say it.”
Electra glares at Fred and scrambles out of his lap, her cheeks turning red at her frustration. She storms over to where Phoenix is standing and knocks over the tower he’d been working on.
“Hey!” he shouts, his little fists clenching up. “What did you do that for?”
“Electra,” Fred scolds. “That wasn’t nice. Apologize to your brother.”
“No,” she responds firmly, kicking some more of the blocks. “I want ice cream!”
Fred sighs and stands up. “Alright, that’s it. It’s time for bed, let’s go.” Fred moves to grab Electra’s hand and she slaps it away, stomping her feet.
“No! Not until I get my ice cream!”
Fred fixes her with a firm glare. “This is not appropriate behavior, Electra. I said no ice cream and that’s final.”
Electra’s face is red with anger, and Fred can see tears welling up in her eyes. Her fists are clenched at her sides and when she stomps her foot again, several things in the room fly off of their shelves and move in every direction across the room. “I want ice cream, now!” She starts to scream as she rips pillows off of the sofa and the frustrated tears start flowing down her cheeks.
Fred ducks as a picture frame comes flying at his head, his mind moving quickly to decide what to do next. If the other night had been disastrous, this is nuclear. The living room is slowly turning into a giant mess and Phoenix grabs on to Fred’s leg in fear.
“Fine!” Fred says suddenly, grabbing his wand from his pocket. Electra is still crying, but several of the things that had been flying around the room clatter to the floor. “I give up. Eat the damn ice cream.” With a wave of his wand the freezer opens and the pint of ice cream inside of it starts to float over towards them. A spoon from one of the drawers joins it, and all of Electra’s anger disappears as she grabs them both out of the air.
“Daddy,” Phoenix says quietly, tugging on his pant leg.
Fred looks down, his heart breaking at how upset his son is from his sister’s meltdown. Tears have started to roll down his cheeks and his bottom lip is wobbling.
“Oh, baby, it’s okay,” Fred coos, gathering him up in his arms. He hugs him close to his chest and starts to head towards the stairs. “Come on, let’s get you into bed, yeah?” Fred rubs Phoenix’s back as he takes them upstairs, his mind racing about what to do about Electra.
20 minutes later Fred is finally heading back down the stairs after getting Phoenix to fall asleep. His shoulders are tense, and his mind is still trying to figure out what exactly to do with Electra. He’s never seen a meltdown quite like that before and he has absolutely no idea what to do. Fred’s never had to punish a child before and this is certainly the worst place to start.
“Why aren’t you in bed, Electra? And why in the world are you eating ice cream?” When Fred finally reaches the living room he can see how mad Y/N is just from her body language. Her shoulders are tense, and her hands are planted firmly on her hips.
“Daddy gave it to me,” she answers calmly, licking her spoon clean.
“I can explain that,” Fred says quietly.
Y/N turns to look at him, her eyes narrow. “I thought this wasn’t your first rodeo, Fred? And yet this room looks like a bomb went off and I’ve got a kid not in bed stuffing her face with ice cream.” Fred opens his mouth to respond, but Y/N puts her hand up to stop him. “We’ll talk about it later.” She turns back to look at Electra. “Bed, now Missy.”
Electra begrudgingly gets off the sofa and heads towards the stairs, putting the ice cream and her spoon in Fred’s outstretched hand. Fred watches as she stomps up the stairs, Y/N following close behind. He sighs heavily before shuffling to the kitchen to put the ice cream away. Once the freezer is shut tight he waves his wand so the living room can start to put itself back together, before collapsing in a chair at the kitchen table.
“Can you not yell at me,” Fred asks when Y/N comes into the kitchen a bit later. “The past 45 minutes have been hell on earth, and I can’t take anymore yelling.”
Y/N sighs as she hoists herself up onto one of the counters. “What happened, Fred? You were so confident when I left and now you just look, broken.”
“Everything was going so well. We were all playing and laughing, and then Electra asked for ice cream. And I said no. And she asked again, and I said no. Then all hell broke loose. She went full meltdown. Crying, screaming, shit was flying all around the room. I didn’t know what to do. Phoenix was scared, she was throwing pillows all over the place, so I gave her the damn ice cream.” Fred runs a hand through his hair before he looks over at Y/N. “Which I know is probably the worst thing I could have done but I just needed her to calm down and then Phoenix was crying, and it was all just one huge shit show.”
“I’m so sorry, Fred,” Y/N says softly. “Electra can throw some explosive tantrums and I should have warned you. And I shouldn’t have left you alone with them. That was my fault.”
Fred rubs his forehead, trying to relieve some of the tension in his head. “They’re my kids too, Y/N. I should be able to handle them on my own. But the second something goes a little wrong my mind goes completely blank. I’m a terrible father.”
“Freddie come over here.” Y/N’s tone is firm, yet gentle and Fred slowly makes his way over to her. When he gets close enough her legs wind around his hips and she pulls him in. “You are not a terrible father,” she starts, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re a new father. There’s a difference.”
Fred buries his head in Y/N’s neck, taking a deep breath in. Her scent of honey and flowers overwhelms his senses, and Fred can already feel himself starting to relax. “I love them both so much that I think my heart is going to explode. And I thought that would be enough but I’m very clearly in over my head.”
“Then walk away,” Y/N says flatly, surprising Fred. “Walk out the front door and never come back. “
Fred pulls away from Y/N’s neck and grips her face so they’re looking into each other’s eyes. “I would never do that, Y/N. You have to know that.”
Y/N smiles at Fred, rolling her eyes. “I know that you dummy. You know how? Because you’re not a terrible father. A terrible father would walk away when things get tough.” She grabs Fred’s chin and tilts his head down to kiss him on the forehead. “Becoming a parent is a huge adjustment, Fred. And honestly you’re doing amazing, love. I promise you that. You know how I know?”
“How?” Fred murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.
“Because Electra and Phoenix are giving you a hard time. I know it sounds weird, but kids tend to be extra naughty for their parents,” Y/N chuckles. “They could be throwing the biggest tantrum for me and the second my mum walks in their all smiles and hugs and kisses. They’re testing your boundaries. It’s what kids do.”
“Who knew being a parent was so confusing?” Fred muses with a chuckle. He leans down to kiss Y/N softly. “I couldn’t do any of this without you, you know.”
“Well duh, I’m the one that gave birth to them,” Y/N jokes.
Fred rolls his eyes, letting his hands wander to her hips. “Well yes obviously. But that’s not what I meant. You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better, to motivate me to keep going.”
“I will always be there to motivate you and support you. Because I love you, and I love our family and I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you three in it with me,” Y/N admits, a pink blush on her cheeks.
“I love you too,” Fred whispers. “And I love our kids. And our family.” Fred pulls Y/N into a slow kiss, trying to convey every feeling he has for her through his mouth. “I used to dream about having this life with you. And now that it’s come true I’m never giving it up. I promise you that.”
-
Fred comes up behind Y/N as she stirs something on the stove, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Hi, love.”
“Hi Freddie,” she greets with a laugh. She tilts her head back slightly, allowing Fred to kiss her briefly. “You’re up to something.”
Fred gasps in fake shock. “Me? Up to something? Couldn’t be,” he teases. His grip on her waist tightens and he starts to press a few open-mouthed kisses to Y/N’s neck. “I just couldn’t help but notice how quiet the house is.”
Y/N lets out a quiet moaning, letting her head fall ever so slightly to the side to give Fred more room to kiss. “Yeah the kids are out back running around.”
Fred hums as he kisses Y/N’s neck, smirking when she shivers. “I think that means we should sneak upstairs for some, mummy and daddy time,” he suggests. While Fred expected that they wouldn’t be having sex every night as they adjusted back into their relationship and into this new normal, he had figured he and Y/N would have been intimate again by now. But with Phoenix and Electra always sneaking about, the closest they’ve gotten is some heavy petting while making out in bed before they both practically pass out.
Before Y/N can respond there’s some kind of commotion outside before one of the kids bursts into tears. They break apart and just as Y/N reaches the back-door Phoenix is approaching, his hair damp from the light snow that started to fall, and tears streaming down his cheeks. Y/N squats down and holds her arms out for him, and to both of their surprise he pushes right past her and heads over towards Fred.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” Fred coos, leaning down so he can pick Phoenix up. He settles him on his hip before he starts to wipe away some of his tears, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“I-I fell down and hurt my elbow,” he gasps in between sobs.
“That’s no good. Want Daddy to kiss it better?” When Phoenix nods Fred presses another kiss to his forehead before gently placing him down on the counter. He helps him out of his jacket before slowly rolling up his sleeve. Fred leans down to press a few kisses to his elbow. “All better?”
Phoenix nods at Fred with a smile, sniffling through his last few tears. “So much better! Thank you Daddy.”
Fred tickles his sides a bit, laughing as Phoenix starts to giggle. “You ready to go back outside and play with your sister?” Fred helps Phoenix put his jacket back on before putting him back down on the ground.
“Love you!” Phoenix shouts as he runs back out into the yard.
“I can’t believe he just did that,” Y/N muses with a shake of her head as she comes to stand with Fred.
Fred chuckles and pulls her into his chest. “I detect a bit of jealousy in your tone there, Y/N,” he teases. He hugs Y/N tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “That’s the first time one of them has chosen to get help from me over you, did you know that?” Fred’s chest feels like it might burst from how happy he feels.
“See, love? You’re navigating this fatherhood thing just fine,” Y/N responds, pulling him down into a kiss.
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btsslowburnfic · 4 years
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The Arrangement Ch 17
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Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi
Chapter Summary: Part one of the photoshoot
Previous Chapter here
The work week proceeded as normal. Well, what had become normal. Delivering coffee and reminding Yoongi to eat, answering emails, trying to figure out which meetings Yoongi actually needed to go to and which ones were a waste of time. Of course you always went to the meetings, and holy shit you couldn’t believe the topics couldn’t have been discussed via email. You were looking forward to this particular day because you got to go visit Hoseok in the style department and Jimin had decided he was tagging along “for funsies.”
Yoongi was supposed to go and get measured and try on clothes for his photoshoot. When you reminded him that morning he laughed at you, “Uh no. Hoseok knows what size I wear. He can figure it out. Go look at the clothes and I might try some of them on tonight.”
You and Jimin met up for lunch and then headed up to the styling department.
“I’m excited. I’ve never been to a photoshoot before.” You said bouncing up and down in the elevator. 
“Yeah, they’re pretty boring actually. Like if it’s with some of the hotter models it’s a little fun for the eye candy, but then you feel bad for them because they have to sit for so long  making awkward faces. They are constantly getting their make-up and hair touched up. Touch base with craft services to make sure there’s plenty of water. The lights are bright.”
You took out your phone, “Oh thanks. I wouldn’t have even thought about that. Any other tips?”
“It’s Yoongi. It won’t take as long as it does with the other people. He’ll show up, do it, and leave. JK and Tae, especially Tae, want to chat with everyone on set and if they are together it takes foreeeeevvvveeeeeerrrrr.” 
“Huh, ok. Thanks.” The two of you arrived at JHOPE Fashion and walked through the rainbow vomit doors. 
Hoseok was wearing glasses with yellow lenses today, which made his dramatic facial expressions stand out even more. He immediately rolled his eyes. He pointed to you. “You are not Yoongi.” He pointed to Jimin. “And you are not Yoongi.” He put his hands on his hips. “So why are the two of you here?” 
“I’m sure you can guess why.” You responded dryly.
“Ugh. That ungrateful man. I had lovingly hand stitched these pieces. For him. These patches...” Hoseok pressed his fingers together as though he was praying. “Fine. Fine. You. Y/N. Come. You. Jimin. Wait right there.”
Jimin’s eyes went wide. “Me? Why do I have to wait here?” 
Hoseok turned from where he had started to walk towards the back. “You will thank me in a minute. A certain someone is coming to get his fitting in a few minutes.” He raised an eyebrow and then turned around, his heels clacking against the red tile floor.
Jimin started to blush profusely and before you could ask, Hobi interrupted, “Come new girl. We have work to do especially if that boss of yours refuses to come here and experience these magnificent beauties for himself.”
You followed him through the large door, which led to lime green hallways and then to a quiet, more muted workspace. The walls were lined with fabric bolsters, the middle tables with ribbon, thread, patches, paint. Paint? 
Hoseok sat down. “From what I understand, this album will have an acoustic feel to it versus his previous albums. For that reason I have chosen these natural materials such as cotton, linen, and denim.” He spread out several pieces onto the large table. “I have also opted for a more neutral pallet, as much as it hurts my soul. I have chosen colors found in nature. I have chosen brightly colored accessories such as these silks to stand in contrast with the stiff fabric and more neutral colors he will be wearing. Additionally, I avoided black. We’ll see if he notices.” 
You watched as he draped the red and purple silks over the top of the clothes. For whatever reason, you found it mesmerizing watching the fabric juxtapositioned in such a way.  “It’s so cool to hear you tell a story just using clothes.” You said, somewhat enchanted.
Hoseok flicked his eyes up to you, “Thank you. That is what I try to do with my collections. Everyone’s outfit tells a story, even if they don’t mean for it to. May I?” He asked, stepping back and gesturing at you.
“Oh man. You know I don’t dresses fancy--”
“Shhhh you don’t tell me.” He looked at your outfit. You had opted for an Aline skirt and blouse with a casual blazer.  “You had meetings this morning, that’s obvious by the jacket. You usually dress cuter. Which means you are either sick or not feeling great. You look fine. So I’m guessing...you are on your period. Sorry, this just comes out, I can’t stop it,” he paused for a moment as your jaw dropped open slightly. He stepped closer, inspecting the shoulders of your jacket. “The blazer is at least ten years old but you shouldn’t have had a blazer ten years ago unless it was for your school uniform and that isn’t a school jacket. Which means it probably belonged to an older sister or aunt. You are very responsible and well organized otherwise you wouldn't be Yoongi’s assistant. Therefore you are most likely the oldest or only child so that is your aunt’s jacket. Your blouse is nice. You actually like it, you’ve worn it twice in the week you’ve been working here. You bought it at a thrift store. You don’t spend a lot of money on yourself, but you are very confident. Therefore, it’s not that you don’t think you deserve nice things, it’s just that you can’t afford them so you likely grew up poor and it has continued into your adulthood.”
“Holy shit. You should be a detective.” You said to him.
“The shoes, I gave you last week. They don’t have a story yet, other than a very good -looking man in a suit helped you out because Jimin said you were a nice girl. You wear zero accessories which shows a lack of both funds and sentimentality. Most people have at least one piece of jewelry that means something to them, but if you have one, you don’t wear it.” He smiled at you, his white teeth gleaming. “ Now, how much am I right about?” He crossed his hands in front of his chest.
You clapped your hands as though you were in an audience. “All of it. Although I am still weirded out that you know I’m on my period. Next time I’m going to wear something skin tight to throw you off.” You joked.
“Well,” he started, “At least now that you work here you don’t have to worry as much right?”
Given the shitshow you went through this weekend you weren’t sure about that, but you shrugged, “It definitely pays better. And money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure helps make some things less hard.” You gestured to the pile of fabric on the table, “So...what do I do? Take these clothes with me for Yoongi to try on or will they be at the photoshoot tomorrow? Do I need to bring them to the photoshoot?”
Hoseok sighed dramatically, “I could dress Yoongi drunk, in my sleep. He can just show up tomorrow and I will dress him then. My staff will make sure the clothes and accessories are at the photoshoot. Here,” He walked over to one of the garment racks. “More clothes for you. I know you have a big closet. And if you run out of space, just take Yoongi’s, he only wears like three things despite my best efforts.”
You laughed, “Yeah, you’re not kidding. Ok thanks,” You took the clothing. “I appreciate it.”
“It’s no trouble. Feel free to see yourself out, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and please make sure the catering has strawberries.”
“Strawberries? Got it.” You were learning so much today. 
You exited the backroom and saw Jimin over near one of the pedestals. He was chatting with JK who was getting fitted with a corset. What an itty bitty waist, you admired. The two of them seemed to be having a good time and you had a new list of things to do so you waved at Jimin and headed to 1802 to drop off your new clothes. You had forgotten Hoseok knew you lived with Yoongi. The week had flown by.  
You sent a text message to Jiwoo asking if you could stop by her desk and ask her a few questions to make sure everything was set up for tomorrow and then stopped by the apartment.
You conferred with her and learned how to navigate catering requests via the company website; apparently it wasn’t available on the app, good to know. you felt much better about the shoot tomorrow but still nervous and excited.
You knocked on the door to Genius Lab. No answer. Never any answer. You typed the code in and saw Yoongi wearing his headphones, lost in his own world. He had told you to just wait on the sofa when this was the case and that he would eventually notice you. Normally the smell of coffee was what alerted him to your presence, but you had come empty handed today. You sat down on the couch and took out your phone.
YN: I don’t mean to alarm you. But there’s something behind you.
You saw his phone light up. He ignored it for a minute, presumably to finish listening to a song, and then picked it up. You heard him laugh and take off his headphones.  “You are the worst.” He spun around.
“So mean. Hey. Tomorrow is my first photoshoot. I checked on the outfits for you. By the way, Hoseok is like Sherlock Holmes with clothing. I learned I’m supposed to contact catering, I have hair and make-up requests in. Do I need to do anything else?”
Yoongi thought for a minute. He never really participated in that side of the photoshoot, now that he reflected on it. He walked his way through a day on set.  “No. The changing rooms and photography are handled by other departments. Check with Jiwoo or Jimin, they’ve both set up a shoot before.”
“I did. I’m getting ready to send in the last food request. Any requests?”
“Mandarins. I don’t like to eat a lot on set because I don’t want stuff getting stuck in my teeth.”
“That makes sense. Ok. I’ll let you get back to it then.” You got up and stretched.
“Tomorrow will go fine. If you forgot anything, it will be somewhere in this building.” He reassured you.
“That makes me feel a lot better.” You said honestly. “Alright, I’ll see you around.”
“Later.”
--------------------
The next day arrived with Yoongi heading off to the hair and make-up department and you heading to the 11th floor to see what the photo set up looked like. You exited the elevator. Man your hands were sweaty, you followed the sounds of voices and made your way to the shooting location. The lighting crew was checking their overheads, a stand-in was posing on the various props they had set out. It looked as though there were three separate “areas” for shooting photos. One area had a large white couch, complete with coffee table, rubber plant, magazines. The whole set up designed to look like a living room. A second space was a blue sheet with a white background. The third space was a kitchen, complete with an island, stovetop, and refrigerator. Holy moly this space was huge. You marveled at it.
“Hello, can I help you?” An older man walked over.
“Oh hi, I’m YLN. Yoongi’s assistant. I was stopping by to check the set up. It looks incredible.”
“Thank you. Yes. Here, let me walk you through it.”
You received a tour of the set and also an overview of the order of shooting. You also found out that next week, weather permitting, there would be a second shooting at the park across the street. You got catering checked in, or at least pointed to the table and felt like you did a thing. The same happened when the clothing team showed up. You pointed to dressing rooms and the vanity where the accessories trunk should go. You were thankful no one had asked you any questions so far. This was a steep learning curve. You had hoped someone you knew might be here today to help ease your nerves, but so far, it was all new faces.
Finally, you saw one familiar face. Alice walked in, carrying a small case with her. You waved.
“Hey! It’s nice to see you again.” She said. “I had no idea you were Yoongi’s assistant until today.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t mention that. I was so overwhelmed that first day,” you smiled.
“No worries. He was just telling me and Bongcha that he had an assistant now. He’s almost done. His make-up is setting. I’m on hair today which isn’t my strong suit, but it’s not like he’s needing a fancy up-do or anything and it’s good for me to practice.”
“Ok great. This is my first time at a photoshoot, so if there’s something I’m supposed to be doing but I’m not, can you let me know?” You confided in her. 
“Absolutely. It looks like most of the stuff is set up how it usually is. Just remember,” she got closer to you and spoke quieter, “You are Yoongi’s assistant. Some of these people, especially these older guys will try to get you to do stuff like get their coffee, grab them snacks. That is not your job. It’s not by job. If they have an assistant, it’s their job.” 
“I knew I liked you when we first met,” you smiled at her. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Anytime Unnie.”
She walked over and took out her hair tools and placed them on the table reserved for hair and make-up. A few minutes later you saw Yoongi walk in wearing a black shirt and grey sweats. His face looked even more beautiful than normal. Next to him was a petite girl with long black hair pulled up into a ponytail, dragging a make-up train behind her.  Yoongi looked around for a second, and then locked eyes with you. You saw the tiniest smile threaten to come out as he walked over.
“Hey. Everything here looks good.” He gestured to the room.
“Thanks. I didn’t do most of it, I just pointed and people seemed to know what to do already. Your face looks good.” 
Yoongi chuckled, “You can thank Bongcha for that. Bongcha, this is YN.”
Bongcha stuck out her hand, “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Nice to meet you as well. You do good work. I give his face a 10/10. Highly recommend.” 
“Well, it’s easy when you have such a great model to start with,” She smiled while looking up at Yoongi.
Yoongi had started to blush between the pair of compliments. “Is Hoseok here yet?”
“No not yet.” You took out your phone to see if you had any messages from Hoseok. Nope. You looked back up, “Bongcha, I’m sure you already know, but the make-up table is over there.  Alice is setting up right now.”
“Great, thanks!” She headed over, her shiny hair swishing behind her. 
Speak of the devil in blue himself, Hoseok strutted in at that exact moment wearing an electric blue suit. His crisp white shirt underneath popped beneath the jacket, and his pocket square had little sunshines on it.
“Wow. You look like the sky.” You said before you could help it.
“Thank you. Indeed. It was my inspiration today. It’s a crime to be indoors beneath these artificial lights on such a beautiful day. Oh well. It can’t be helped.” He laid eyes on Yoongi, like a predator gazing on its prey, “Yoongi. Baby. Come.”
Yoongi scrunched his face. “Don’t call me baby. If you miss the sunlight so much, leave. I know how to dress myself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you don't know which pieces go together.” Hoseok grabbed Yoongi by the shoulders and started leading him over to the clothing section, leaving you to laugh at the pair of them. You went over to the table you had set up for yourself between make-up and the food. You had printed off several lists that morning to help you stay focused. You checked off several action items. Satisfied, you sat your clipboard down and looked around. It was a well-oiled machine for sure. You walked over to the hair and make-up table. “Hey ladies.”
“Hey! Have you two met yet?” Alice asked, referring to Bongcha.
“Yep, we just did.” Bongcha confirmed, putting on her make-up apron and filling it with various powders and brushes.
“Ooooo we should do a make-up party sometime.” Alice squealed. “We try to do it with all the new girls. And since Yoongi is” she hushed her voice again “One of our favorites. We have to take care of his assistant.”
You smiled, “Sure. That sounds nice. Excuse me.” You decided to go see how the clothes were going.
“Yes. Yoongi’s assistant. So glad you’re here.” Hoseok turned to you.
“She has a name, it’s YN.” You heard Yoongi say from behind the curtain.
“Yes yes. I know. We talked yesterday, remember? At that meeting I scheduled for me and you that you did not come to. Anyways, here. The outfits are now coordinated. They have tags on them corresponding to their accessory in the accessory trunk. Some pieces have more than one option that the Director of Photography and Yoongi will decide on. Got it?”
You looked over the set up. It seemed simple enough since Hoseok had organized it so well .”Yep. You going out to enjoy the sunshine?” 
“Honey, I am the sunshine. I’m off to get laid after having to deal with this cloudy baby.” He gestured to the changing room.
“Don’t call me baby.” Yoongi shouted from behind the curtain. You just laughed as Hoseok turned around and left. You waited for a few minutes. 
“You ok in there? Need me to come help you put your pants on?” You teased.
“Not necessary.” Yoongi slid open the curtain. Why was everyone teasing him today? He pouted without thinking about it.
You walked over, straightening the collar of his shirt “Hey now, you can’t go around pouting like a baby and not expect people to call you one. Here,” you handed him a mandarin. He scowled at you as he took it. “Such a pretty face” You laughed. 
“Yeah whatever. I can eat this while they set up the white meter. You should be fine to just hang around at this point.”
“Alright. Sounds good.” The two of you walked over to the main part of the set where the Director gave Yoongi instructions about where to sit as they practiced the blocking and softbox placement.
“Oh my god he looks so good eating that tangerine.” You overheard. Your eyes bugged out slightly and you turned around. A group of women from the photography team were looking at the images to check the saturation and focus, as well as apparently the model. Damn. NEXT CHAPTER
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Wednesday
Yoosung Kim X Reader [y/n]
Author’s Note - Sorry this took so long! I also apologize if the ending seems rushed or if Yoosung is OOC. Thank you to the lovely @latte-delf for requesting this, it was an honor to write for you. Hope you enjoy!
Warnings - There’s a brief mention of a panic attack and slight bullying! I’ve tagged where it starts and ends if you’re uncomfortable with that. Lots of time skipping cuz I can’t fucking write. This is unedited, please tell me if there is any mistakes.
I hate him.
I hate him so much!
He stole the position of class president from you three years ago.
Yoosung Kim. He stole my position by two votes. Two. Votes. I was always class president before that! Yet he took it from me. My classmates even had the audacity to say he was a better president when it was time to vote for a new one! Sure, Yoosung was intelligent and popular, but he only won because the girls found him handsome.
And of course, he just (HAS) to go to the same university as you do. Sky University was supposed to be a place free of Yoosung Kim. At least he hasn’t seemed too interested in studies this year. He has failed almost every pop quiz your professor has handed out. Whenever you see his down face, you can’t help but giggle a bit.
I dislike how he’s majoring in the same thing as me still. It feels like he’s saying he can do better. Though his grades haven’t been showing that. He must realize that I’m superior than he ever will be.
~~~~~~~~~~
On Wednesday during your last lecture, you diligently take notes and listen to your professor. You make sure to absorb every bit of information that you can. During the last twenty minutes, your professor makes an announcement. 
“Students, I will be assigning a project due at the end of the month. You will have to find out the evolution of the animal as well as their behaviors. Please include any infectious diseases that they can carry. I will be giving you partners to make the workload easy.” You shrug your shoulders, can’t be too bad.
You wait until your name is called, which takes awhile since your name is lower on the list. You pray to whatever god is out there to not get Yoosung as your partner. 
Apparently, the gods refused to listen to your plea. Your professor calls your name out, “[y/n] [l/n] and Yoosung Kim...you two will have the koala.” A loud groan escapes your mouth at the name.
“ Class is dismissed. Have a good day.” You quickly pack up and speed walk out the lecture hall. Yoosung rushes up to you and taps your shoulder.
“Hey! Wanna exchange numbers so we can find time to work on the project?” The blonde smiles at you. You roll your eyes. “No. I’m going to do it on my own. You can play your stupid little game.” He frowns at your snappy words.
“Are you sure? I’d feel bad if you took all the work by yourself. We also have some tests coming up, so it’ll be a lot to take care of.” The genuine worry in his voice ticks you off. You write down your number on a loose piece of paper and shove it into his chest. Yoosung struggles to keep it off the ground as you walk away.  The walk to your dorm is full of your mumbled curses.
~~~~~~~~~
A chill on Saturday morning wakes you up. You grumble as you check your phone, seeing a text notification from Yoosung. He delivered it at 3:45 am. He’ll be an especially lousy partner today. The previous day, Yoosung invited you to his dorm so that you could work on the project together, to which you begrudgingly agreed. 
You arrive at his dorm within a five minute walk. Your notes and laptop are nestled in your backpack. After a quick rap on the door, Yoosung answers. His hair is mussed and his eyes look droopy. You scoff and push your way inside. Surprisingly, his place is a lot neater than you expected.
“So, should we make a slide and divide the work.” He asks. “I’ll do it on my own, go find something else you can do.” You jab. Yoosung lets out a frustrated sigh and speaks up. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’d be a lot easier if we shared the load. Plus, this is my grade as much as it is yours.” You grumble an ‘okay’ and split up topics to focus on. Both of you take turns borrowing your notes and his textbook. 
Around two hours after starting, you and Yoosung decide that you worked enough for the day. He offers to get takeout, to which you agree to. You’re a broke college student, how could you refuse? You sit on the floor with your back against the couch, too brain fried to think. Yoosung plomps on the small couch he has and lets out a groan.
“Want to watch Bulu or something on my laptop?” He offers. You nod your head. Yoosung opens his laptop and signs in to his streaming service. You decide to watch ‘The Workspace’ as you wait for your food. 
Your food arrives. Both of you continue to watch your show. Cheap pizza has never tasted this good. Maybe you’re just so hungry and tired to the point where you don’t even care. “Sorry if it isn’t too good. It was the only place I could find on FoodHub.” He apologizes softly. “It’s okay, I’m too hungry to care anymore.” You earn a chuckle from him. There’s an odd silence after that.
“Uhm…. hey, [y/n]?” He speaks shyly. “What?” You say in a cranky voice, irritated about being disturbed from your slice. Yoosung struggles for a minute before speaking for a minute. “Did I do something to offend you? You seem like you have something against me...”  You stiffen. (TW) Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You honestly never expected this to happen.
A can of worms open up. Your breathing slowly becomes ragged. Averting your gaze doesn’t help, you know his amethyst ones are on you. A wave of panic crosses you. You stammer something incoherent to him. “A-are you okay? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to..” He hurriedly apologizes. You grasp tightly at his wrist, wanting to ground yourself to something. Yoosung’s pulse is a bit fast, yet it helps you regain focus. He awkwardly places a hand on yours. “He….hey, It’s okay.” For once, his voice is actually reassuring. 
“Back in highschool..” You murmur. “You won student president even though I had been the president the years prior.” He looked shocked, eyes wide and lips a bit parted. “I remember. You worked really hard on that campaign.” Yoosung gives you a lopsided smile. “Since I didn’t win, people who I reported causing issues started to bully and harass me. Even some people who I used a slightly harsh tone with mocked me.” Your eyes started to sting. “Oh [y/n]...”
“The worst part of all, my parents were upset that I didn’t get the role again. They scolded me for not doing good enough.” (TW End) Yoosung can only pat your back. You don’t know what to think about it. He seems to think that as well, seeing as his hand jumps off you like he was scalded. “I uh… think I should go now. I’ll Lendmo you money for the food…..See ya.” You pack as quickly as possible and run out as fast as you can until you’re out of breath. A block away from Yoosung’s dorms, you stop to take a break. Warmth sets fire to your face when thinking back to being with him. Maybe it’s because you’re embarrassed? Maybe you’re just winded from running. 
There is NO. WAY. your face feels hot because of Yoosung’s comforting presence. There can’t be, it's impossible. You slap your cheeks in an attempt to compose yourself. It doesn’t work.
~~~~~~~~~
Its been a week since you’ve talked to Yoosung. He tries to talk to you, but you always scurry away when he gets too close. He’s even tried texting and throwing notes at you in class which the two of you got in trouble for. It’s only on a Wednesday that he finally catches you in the hall before you run off. The grip of his hand on your wrist is firm, but not to the point of pain.
Yoosung sighs and looks at you. You turn your head away slightly to avoid his burning gaze. “Please don’t be mad…” You hear him suck in a breath. “Mad? Why would you think I’m mad?” Your bottom lip trembles. “For avoiding you..” Yoosung releases your wrist and pats your head. “I’m not mad, I’m worried.” His hand slides down to your shoulder. “I know this won’t really help, but I’m sorry for what happened to you. You’ve been holding this feeling of hate because of some stupid people.” You giggle at his insult to your past peers.
But why do your cheeks feel blazing again? Why are there little butterflies in your stomach? There’s a slight squeeze on your shoulder before he retracts his hand. You wish it was still there so badly, that spot feels cold now. “How about going to my place? We can relax for a bit then work on the project.” He offers. You nod, maybe a little too eagerly as you hear him laugh. Why does he look so cute when he smiles?
You take the bus to his place, the campus being a bit far from his dorms. You immediately collapse on his couch and place an arm over your eyes. The groan that comes from your lips is loud and dramatic. Yoosung laughs loudly, oddly comforting you. He sits by your legs, looking rigid. “So uhm...do you still hate me?” You look him dead in the eye. “Only if you’ll teach me how to play that stupid game of yours.” You smirk. “LOLOL isn’t stupid!” He whines. You start laughing. The scowl on his features make Yoosung look like a puppy who hasn’t gotten a treat. You laugh harder.
Yoosung rolls his eyes. “Fine. I guess I’ll teach you.” You wipe away the tears from your laughing fit and sit up happily. He retrieves his laptop and starts up LOLOL. You notice that the both of you are inching towards each other. “I’ll make your own account just in case you want to play again.” “You mean so I won’t mess up your save file?” Yoosung flounders as you let out a hearty chuckle. You put your email and username in. “ShootingStar_[y/n}? I like it!” He guides you as you create an avatar looking similar to you. You decide to be a mage. During your tutorial levels, you have a hard time navigating with the mouse. He places his right hand on top of your hand on the mouse. Your heart beats erratically while his hand is on yours. There’s a slight blush creeping up on his face as well.
By the time you finish, it’s nearly evening. You take out your laptop while Yoosung logs out and goes into the presentation. You guys spend six hours working, editing each other's slides and practicing presenting. It’s around 12am when you two are content with your work. Yoosung orders some sandwiches from a 24 hour restaurant. 
You decide to stay over since its late. Yoosung lets you sleep on his bed while he takes the couch. His bed is like sleeping on a cloud, so soft and warm. You let yourself drift off peacefully.
~~~~~~~~~
On a Wednesday, you and Yoosung have to present your project in front of the class. His face looks pale, his hands are shaky. “Hey, you okay?” You pat his back. He gulps and nods. “Just a little nervous. It's been awhile since I’ve given your last presentation.” It's your turn to pat his head. His face immediately goes a bright shade of pink.”Wh-what was that for?!” “You did that to me last time I was sad. Besides, I think you’re just mad because you know I’m going to beat you in LOLOL tonight.”  He quickly pouts. “I shouldn’t have shown you PVP mode!”
Your presentation goes well. As you leave your class, your professor hands you a rubric. “Nice work, guys.” He gives you a smile. Yoosung meets you out in the hallway. You both peer at the paper. There’s a huge ‘A’ on the top of your paper. Yoosung looks at you with wide eyes. “Oh my god… I can’t believe we did it!” You jump up and down in exuberance. Yoosung hugs you tight. You can’t deny that you have feelings for him anymore. You kiss his soft lips.
~~~~~~~~~
On a Wednesday, you chase him down the hall.
“Get back here!” You yell. “Make me!” This childish man. You continue your chase until you’re outside on campus. He suddenly stops dead in his tracks. The shock of him giving up so quickly nearly makes you trip. You would’ve become a pancake on the pavement.
“Yoosung Kim, I hate you so much!”
He chuckles warmly. “I love you too”
Yoosung presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll buy you another sweet bun for you. Forgive me?”
“Fine, I guess I forgive you….I love you too..”
You press a kiss to his cheek, relishing in the warmth of the sun shining above you.
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sanders-sides-fics · 4 years
Text
Domestic Bliss
Hi @lala-the-rebel, I’m your secret santa for @sanderssidesgiftxchange‘s! Hope you enjoy and happy holidays! Thank you to @rubyredsparks for betaing!
Pairing: Logince
Warnings: food mentions, driving, Remus, Janus, and as always let me know if you need something tagged!
Word Count: 3084
Masterlist
AO3 links will be added in a reblog in the future and in my masterlist!
Roman glanced in his rearview mirror and smiled at his sons, one out cold in his car seat and the other excitedly staring back at him from his booster seat. Roman smiled at his older son, Patton, and turned his eyes to the road once more.
“Excited to see Papa?” Roman guessed, smile coiling into a teasing smirk.
Logan didn’t know his family was coming, but Roman knew their intrusion on his workday would be forgiven. His husband could only hold a grudge for so long and it never lasted long when Patton broke out his puppy eyes. Even if it somehow did, Roman had their secret weapon napping in the backseat. A sleepy Virgil wanting his Papa couldn’t be resisted, no matter how recently he had joined their family.
It wasn’t in their plan to adopt a second child, but neither regretted accepting his initial placement with them. And now, Roman couldn’t imagine their lives without their sons.
“Mhm!” Patton exclaimed. “Gonna see Papa working!”
Roman chuckled and turned on his blinker to change into the exit lane. He checked the rearview mirror to ensure Virgil was still asleep and not disturbed by his brother’s excitement. To his relief, the baby slept soundly. Virgil didn’t like being abruptly woken up and would cry nonstop if he were. Roman’s heart couldn’t take seeing those eyes filled with tears.
“We are! And maybe we’ll get lunch with Papa too. He said he wasn’t busy today,” Roman told Patton as he navigated the rest of the way to the university.
Roman was sure Patton would appreciate being able to eat lunch with both of his dads today. The two were going out on a date for dinner and wouldn’t return home until after his uncles had tucked him into bed. Though perhaps Patton would enjoy an evening with Remus and Janus while his fathers were away.
“So, we’re not gonna see his fishies?” Patton pouted.
Roman smiled sympathetically, “I’m sure Papa will let you see them when we get to his office.”
The first time Patton had gone to Logan’s office at the university, he had fallen in love with the large tank Logan kept in his office. Whenever he went to visit, he made sure to say hello to the fish. Roman found Patton’s commitment to making the fish happy endearing.
“Make sure to bat those big old eyes at Papa and he definitely will,” he promised.
“Okay, Daddy!” Patton agreed.
When Roman pulled into the university, he followed the direction signs to the staff parking outside of the building Logan worked with. Logan alternated cars he drove to work, due to weather mostly, so both of their vehicles had valid parking stickers. It made visits easier because Roman didn’t need to worry about paying for their spot while handling both boys on his own.
Roman smiled when he spotted the car Logan drove to work in that day. He parked a few spots away from the car and got out to help Patton out of his booster seat. Patton took his hand and patiently walked with him as he rounded the car to get Virgil.
“Can I carry the bag, Daddy?” Patton asked.
Roman smiled and nodded his head, allowing Patton to pick it up, “Just tell me if it’s too heavy. If it is, I’ll take it until we get to Papa.”
Roman leaned in and started to undo the buckles on Virgil’s car seat. The young boy opened his eyes with a whine and reached his arms up.
“You want to be carried, little guy? Okay, Daddy’s gotcha.”
Roman hefted the nine-month-old into his arms, where Virgil settled back in and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder. Virgil had woken up a bit early from his nap today, which was probably why he fell asleep in the car.
Roman reached down with his free arm and gently took Patton’s hand.
“Let’s go see Papa, yeah?”
“Mhm!”
Roman walked his sons to the building and smiled at the student who held the door open for them. Patton cheerfully thanked her and told her he was going to see his Papa. The student smiled and they continued their walk.
Patton walked at Roman’s side happily, adjusting the diaper bag every now and again. Roman thought that it might be too heavy for him, but Patton never said a word until they were outside of the office. Patton set down the bag with a huff and knocked at the door.
“Paaaaapaaaaa!” he called. “It’s Patty!”
The door opened after a moment and Logan stepped out, a mug of coffee in his hand. He gave Roman a quick amused look and set down his coffee on the table near the door to crouch down and hug his son.
“Salutations, Patton. Did Daddy bring you here?”
“He did! He did!” Patton cheered. “Brought Virgie too but he’s tired!”
Logan looked up from the hug to Roman and Virgil. Roman glanced down to see Virgil’s eyes had shut again.
“Someone skip his nap today?” Logan asked.
“Half of it, Starlight,” Roman answered. “I tried to get him to go back down but he wouldn’t until we were already in the car on the way here. An hour later.”
“Sounds about right,” Logan sighed, standing so that he could pick up their older son. “That’s the fourth time this week?”
“Counting bedtime, I think.”
Patton wrapped his arms around Logan and squeezed happily. Logan adjusted his hold on his son and smiled as Patton settled into his arms. He carried him into the office and sat in the chair behind his desk, next to the fish tank. Patton gasped and waved at the fish.
“Hi, fishies!”
Roman and Logan smiled at the greeting as Roman settled into one of the chairs on the opposite side of Logan’s desk.
“Did you get more fishies?” Patton asked, pointing at the tank. “The black one is new!”
Logan nodded, “Good observation, Patton. I have. The black fish belonged to a student who graduated last semester and couldn’t take the fish on their flight home.”
Patton pouted, “They couldn’t take their fish? Won’t the fish miss them?”
“Maybe, but he also has many new friends in the tank,” Logan promised softly.
Patton smiled, seemingly satisfied with the answer provided.
“Papa wouldn’t let the fish get lonely, Patton,” Roman added. “He’ll make sure they have a good home here.”
“Like Virgie and me?”
Roman smiled, “Just like that, Patty.”
“Papa’s the best,” Patton concluded.
“Daddy helps,” Logan looked across the desk to Roman fondly.
-
Roman fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror, straining his ear to listen for the sound of the doorbell. If it were his twin coming alone, he would be listening for the door to open, but he found that Janus preferred to ring the bell rather than walk right in. Roman appreciated the gesture, especially with two young children in the house.
The doorbell rang and Roman put down his comb.
“I’ve got it,” he called out to Logan, so he could continue getting ready for their evening.
He exited the bathroom and scooped up Patton as the young boy made a beeline for the door. Patton giggled and Roman poked his nose.
“What did Daddy say about answering the door, Pattycake?” he asked gently.
“Only do it with you,” the little boy answered. “Annnnd you’re right here!”
“I guess I am.”
Roman smiled at his son’s cleverness and set him down when they arrived at the door. He motioned for Patton to open the door and Patton swung the door open enthusiastically.
“Uncle Remus! Uncle Janny!”
“Hey, Squirt!” Remus exclaimed, stepping inside.
Roman wasn’t surprised to see Janus dressed in a suit, knowing he had come from the courthouse; just as he wasn’t surprised to see Remus in ripped up jeans and a t-shirt, both splattered in old and new dried paint stains.
“I’d better not find any paint stains on my couch, Rem.”
Remus grinned at his brother, “Don’t worry, Princey Poo, I’ve been done painting since before Jan got out of work.”
“I would’ve made him change if it were wet paint,” Janus promised.
“Thank you, Janus,” Roman said. “I’m just finishing getting ready and then I can run you through Virgil’s bedtime routine. I think Logan’s written it down somewhere though.”
Logan rounded the corner from their living room to the entryway with Virgil in his arms. He looked ready for the evening and Roman suspected he was soaking in a few more minutes with Virgil before they let Janus and Remus watch the boys for the evening.
“It’s on the kitchen counter,” Logan informed them. “I can show them what to do, this way I can get Virgil warmed up to them before we leave.”
Roman nodded, knowing that Virgil took time to get used to new people. It would be best that he felt more comfortable around his uncles before Roman and Logan walked out the door or the evening would be a nightmare for his uncles. It wasn’t that Roman thought Janus and Remus were strange, but he knew Virgil took a few weeks to like Logan too since he left the house to work daily when Virgil first came home with them.
“He’s met us before,” Remus said.
“He’s a baby, dear,” Janus reminded softly. “He’ll be used to us in no time. A few more visits perhaps.”
Roman smiled and took the opportunity to slip away from the door to continue getting ready. It would only take a few minutes to put on his deep crimson dress shirt and pick his cologne for the evening. Perhaps he would go with the cedar one, he knew Logan liked cologne a lot.
“Oh! Papa! Can I smell pretty too?” Patton stuck his head into the bathroom.
Roman smiled, spraying himself with the cologne, “Alright. But only if you promise to still take a bath tonight. Uncle Remus is running a bubble bath for you.”
Patton’s eyes lit up at the promise of a bubble bath and nodded his head, “Yes, please!”
Roman sprayed Patton lightly with the cologne and Patton sniffed his shirt to make sure he could smell it.
“Just like Daddy?” Roman asked.
“Mhm! Thank you!”
With that Patton ran out of the bath and in the distance, Roman heard his son shouting that he wanted to play with Janus. Normally Roman would correct this shouting, but for tonight he would let it go. Janus was working a high-end case and hadn’t been over to see Patton lately.
Roman checked his appearance in the mirror and adjusted the collar of his shirt. He smirked at his reflection and stepped out of the bathroom.
“Logan? Are you still ready?” he called.
Logan called back, voice trailing down the stairs from Virgil’s bedroom, “In a moment, Love.”
Roman went to the coat closet and selected his brown leather jacket to wear later in the evening when it would be colder. He grabbed his dress shoes and slipped them on, before sitting down on the loveseat to wait for his family to come back down the stairs.
It only took a few minutes for them to come down. Roman grinned when he noticed Virgil was in Remus’ arms, relieved and joyful to see Virgil warming up to his twin.
“Virgil likes his Uncle Remus?”
“He does!” Remus affirmed.
“Or he thinks you’re his Dad?” Janus teased, slipping past him with Patton.
Patton ran to the toy chest in the living room and started pulling out different toys. He offered Janus the rubber snake, knowing he preferred to use that toy. Roman knew Patton would be fine for the evening.
Virgil stretched his arms and looked up from Remus’ shoulder, drawing Roman’s attention away from Patton and Janus.
Virgil looked from Remus to Roman with wide eyes, “Dah?”
Roman snorted quietly and walked over, “Hi, Virgie, it’s Daddy.”
“Dah!” Virgil held his arms out.
Janus snickered from the couch as Virgil was transferred from Remus to Roman. Roman hugged Virgil close and gave Remus a sympathetic smile. He pressed a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head and rocked him back and forth.
“Virgil, this is your Uncle Remus. He’s my brother like Patty is yours,” Roman spoke softly. “He’s going to watch you, yeah?”
Virgil glanced up and hesitantly held out his arms to Remus again. Remus took him with care and allowed Virgil to settle back in.
“Finger painting okay?” Remus asked.
Roman nodded, “As long as you remember to clean him up.”
Roman trusted his brother not to paint anything too scary around the boys, despite knowing what his paintings looked like. Remus may not have cared when they were younger and constantly tried to scare Roman and his friends with his creations, but he had never done that with Patton.
“It’s bubble bath night,” Remus promised.
“Which is waiting on the counter for you, next to towels and a set of pajamas for both Patton and Virgil,” Logan said as he descended the stairs.
“Perfect!” Remus exclaimed. “Now, you two lovebugs get out of here!”
“We will, we will,” Roman promised.
Roman leaned in and kissed Virgil’s head again and looked to Patton in the living room, “Daddy and Papa are going now, Patty. You going to be okay?”
“Mhm! Buh bye!”
“No kisses? You won’t see us until tomorrow,” Logan added, knowing Patton would realize it later and become upset.
Patton gasped and set down the stuffed puppy he had, choosing to run over and quickly kiss both of his fathers.
“Have fun, we’ll call if we need help,” Janus stood from where he sat on the floor, stretching out. “Though I think we’ve got this.”
And finally, Logan and Roman were out the door.
-
Roman checked his phone after the waiter walked away from taking their orders. Logan reached across the table and gently lowered Roman’s phone.
“I am sure they are okay,” Logan assured him, offering a small smile. “Even if they weren’t, your phone’s volume is on, we would hear if they called.”
“You’re right,” Roman put the phone down.
Roman couldn’t help but feel nervous about leaving Virgil with a babysitter for the first time. He trusted Janus and Remus greatly, enough to leave them alone with his sons. But they hadn’t left Virgil with someone else since they brought him home.
Logan stroked Roman’s hand with his thumb and brought it to his lips for a brief kiss, “Janus and Remus are very capable. And you need a night to relax. You’re home with those boys all day.”
“Only because I can write from home,” Roman blushed at the feeling of Logan’s lips brushing against his knuckles.
“Meaning you care for them and still manage to find time for your novels, it’s very impressive, Love. And you deserve more breaks,” Logan spoke softly.
Roman looked up and met Logan’s hazel eyes, which were filled with adoration. Roman squeezed Logan’s hand and sighed happily. It had been a while since they went anywhere without either of the kids. He loved his sons but hadn’t realized how much he missed having time alone with Logan that wasn’t the moments before they fell asleep at night.
The waiter came by with their drinks and the mozzarella sticks Roman had talked Logan into. On the promise that he had a lactose tablet in his wallet that he could take before eating any. He looked to Logan and pouted before letting go of Logan’s hand to take out the tablet. He chewed it quickly and Logan smiled.
“Thank you for taking that, I do not like risking your health, even if it is something minor like a stomachache.”
Roman picked up a mozzarella stick and dipped it in the sauce, “You’re welcome, Lo… I wouldn’t worry you like that.”
“Oh, I believe you have before,” Logan teased, taking one himself.
“I didn’t want anything to ruin our time together tonight.”
Roman ate his mozzarella stick and grimaced at the leftover taste from the tablet. It was meant to taste like vanilla, and it sort of did, yet wrong. He swallowed and grabbed his lemon water to wash the taste out of his mouth.
“I hate the aftertaste of those things,” he whined.
“And the taste is already gone?” Logan asked.
“… It is…”
Roman reached for another mozzarella stick and took a small bite to test the taste. He found no hint of the taste or the grainy particles often left behind. He finished the stick and wiped his hands off on the cloth napkin supplied by the restaurant. When he was sure his hands were clean, he reached out to hold Logan’s hand again, at least until their meals arrived.
“I love you,” Roman whispered.
“I love you too,” Logan murmured back.
Their meals arrived and Logan thanked the waiter, briefly tearing himself away from Roman to do so. They let go of each other’s hands and ate their meals. Roman listened as Logan described the latest research from his chemistry lab. He didn’t care much for chemistry but loved the passion in Logan’s eyes when he talked about it.
By the end of the dinner, Roman was entirely lost but his confusion was worth it. He leaned around the table and kissed Logan on the cheek.
“Ready to go home?” Roman asked.
“I am. When our waiter comes back with my card, we’ll go… Perhaps go to the park first? The boys are already in bed.”
Roman smiled.
-
Roman and Logan were sat down at a bench in the park, leaning against one another. Logan shivered at a cold breeze as it blew by.
“Forget your jacket?” Roman teased. He shrugged off his leather jacket and put it around Logan’s shoulders, “Here you go. Can’t have my husband going cold.”
“Thank you, are you sure you don’t need it?”
“If I get cold, I suppose you’ll have to warm me up yourself.”
Logan snorted back a laugh as Roman wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He leaned forward and placed a hand on Roman’s cheek. Roman shivered under the chilling touch.
“Well… I do suppose I have to warm you up now, don’t I?” Logan teased.
“I guess you do.”
Logan moved forward and brought their lips together, moving to wrap his arms around Roman. Roman slipped his arms around Logan’s neck and kissed him again.
“I love you,” Logan whispered into the kiss.
“And I, you.”
General Taglist (Ask to be added)
@ahoardofsides
@iris-sanders-athena
@evilmuffin
@remythehero
@you-deserve-the-worlds
107 notes · View notes
mooswords · 4 years
Text
Home
Pairing: kuroo tetsuro x reader
Word count: 3k
Tags: red string of fate au, historical au
Ramblings: part of the lost collab, all based on the prompt ‘only when you are lost does the red string of fate appear’ organised by the lovely @yacoka​​ who is a wonderful writer and an even better friend 😚 also a big thank you to remy for beta-ing <3
---
You stare in exasperation as the red string fades into sight, the familiar warmth wrapping back into existence around your finger. It was only visible when one of you was feeling lost, and you certainly knew where you were. Tetsuro was only meant to be coming home from town - how did he get lost? 
You pluck at the string.
Seriously?
An answering pull against your pinky. 
Shut up.
Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the horse in front of you.
“That man, eh?” You scrub the brush along a thick-boned leg, scrunching your face away from the cloud of dust that puffs out. “Probably one of the smartest people this side of the island, knows the stars like the back of his hand, but can’t even find his way across his own fields.” You huff, watching as the string disappears again. “The cows know their way home better than he does, honestly…” 
Bess rattles her head, mane flying, and you sigh. “Ahh, you’re right, I guess we love him anyway.”
“You guess?”
You start, twisting at his sudden presence. 
“Stop! Doing that!” You huck the brush at him and he ducks, grinning. 
“Hear that Bess?” he sings, sidling up to the horse and scratching her forehead as she noses at his pockets. “She loves me.”
“And I married him too,” you lament. “What was I thinking?”
“Something I ask myself every day,” he says softly, eyes alight. You mellow, as you always do for him, and wonder if you will ever get sick of that look. 
“How’s town?” You ask instead, snagging a new brush.
“Good. Got offered a job.”
“Oh, who with?”
“Nekomata.”
You hum. “Down at the docks?”
“Not... exactly." You flick a look up when he doesn't elaborate, only to find him determinedly pulling Bess' forelock into a crude braid. 
"And?" you prompt.
"He wants me as the navigator." He swallows, fingers still twisting in the coarse hair. "For an expedition.”
“Really?” You scrub at a particularly stubborn splatter of dried mud. "I thought he had given up on all that. What’s he planning?”
He doesn’t reply for another long moment. 
"Depends on how quick the ice melts." 
You tear your eyes away from your work; he looks wary. "But with what he mentioned to me, we’d be away… a year? Maybe longer?"
“Oh,” you breathe. Really, for a sailing expedition, that’s short. But it’s still a year. You're thinking of money, and supplies, and who will take over teaching his students while he’s gone, and he’ll definitely need a new coat, and oh that's such a long time-
“I don’t have to decide immediately.” You pull your gaze back into focus. He still looks nervous, but you know him - he might not always be the most expressive person, but he wears his passions with pride. And there are few things your Tetsuro loves more than the stars. 
“You should go."
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You bite your tongue and start sweeping the brush along Bess’ broad back again. It’s not till he gently pulls your hands to a stop you notice how they shake. 
“I don’t have to go,” he offers softly.
You sigh, not quite able to focus any higher than the hollow of his neck. “No. You should.”
His fingers are light under your chin, and you reluctantly let him draw your gaze up. 
“Are you sure?” 
And you are. Despite your reticence, you are; because at heart, he’s always longed to explore the world. You remember sitting with him in the summer, feet dangling in the creek and listening to his rambling dreams of travelling to the far corners of the world. He loves teaching - weaving stories from geography homework, gently coaching the younger kids through their sums - but you’ve caught him many a time just staring out at the sea, eyes unfocused and longing.
"I’m sure," you tell him with a genuine smile. "It just means I'm going to have to do all your chores while you're away."
He tsks, but there's already excitement building under the mock-glare. Giving Bess a final pat, he meanders back to the house. You listen to his cheery whistling and tell the pang in your heart he'll be fine. 
He always comes home.
--
“Have fun. Don’t kick Yaku overboard, OK?”
“What’s this, huh?” The string hums as he twirls a finger through it, his voice low and amused. He twists it into a bow around a lock of your hair, an achingly familiar action that has the string glowing brighter against your skin. “You can’t be lost without me if I haven’t left yet, sweetheart."
He frowns, and you etch the image into your memory - it will be months till you see that pout again. 
“Oh, hush you.” 
Eyes bright and fond, he grins down and pulls you into his chest. For once, you stop thinking about tomorrow and just enjoy this final moment with him; the gulls’ cries tearing across the sky, the winter sun across your back and stiff breeze sweeping through your skirts. He is constant and unshakable, heartbeat steady in your ear, his chin pressed against your hair.
You draw back and poke him in the cheek.
“You come home, you hear me?”
The string continues to flutter between you, dancing in the seaward breeze as he presses a sweet kiss to your lips.
“Always.”
--
The second plate stares back at you. 
Right. Of course. 
You press your lips together and return the other plate to the shelf for the third time this week. Your lonely plate looks pitifully small on the uneven table, and the red string that sinks down to drape across it only adds to the ache in your heart.
You grip the string tight and try not to cry.
--
The drumming rain is muffled as you duck under the barn’s eaves. Shaking the water from your eyes, you peel off your now sodden coat. In the flickering lantern light, you can see how the heifer is huffing, swollen belly already heaving.
Crooning to her, you run a tired hand over the heifer’s rough hide and crouch down.
You shove wet hair off your face and sigh. The late nights and bad weather were only exacerbating an already stressful time of year, and of course this had to be the year your entire herd was calving. You wearily draw a pail of water and tsk as you grab the last towel off the side of the stall - it seems tomorrow will have to be a washing day too.
There’s a wet nose. There’s also a tail.
“That’s… not right.” you mutter, stumped. 
It hits you a moment later - twins. She’s having twins.
“Ohh… uhh…” You know you can’t panic, but your thoughts just continue to speed up, desperately flicking through your memories because you know how to deal with a breech birth, but twins? Where do you even begin? There are two calves in there, and that's twice the number of things that could go wrong. Think. It’s only a few minutes over the hill to the Kagayama’s, maybe they-
The gentle tug at your hand startles you. The string is there, looped around one of the cow’s ears and floating out into the pouring night. Another tug comes, a little firmer this time. 
You suck in a breath.
You send him a grateful tug back and get to work.
It’s messy and stressful, and the deep ache in your arms will definitely be worse tomorrow, but there's a pile of knobby legs and liquid eyes in your lap that more than makes up for the pain. You snag the old towel off the straw and gently wipe the nose of the first calf before helping it struggle to its feet. The cow blinks around and lowes softly. You grin and quickly swipe at the other calf, blowing gently on its nose till it snorts.
Your eyes are heavy, and you are already compiling a list of the thousands of things to do tomorrow. But with pride singing through your tired bones, you are content to sit, half-wishing he was here with you to listen to the rain beat down on the tin roof and proudly watch the calves take their first, wobbling steps. 
--
“Endeavor."
“E-N-D...” Natsu scrunches her nose and you nod encouragingly, “E…”
The string appears. It’s sudden; not the usual fade-in of realization, but a tidal wave of colour that has it crashing into existence all at once.
“-A-V-O-R. Endeavor.”
You clear your throat, pushing past the lump. “Correct. Let’s have an early lunch everyone.”
The clatter of chairs is immediate, and you wait for all the kids to race out the door before sinking shakily back against the desk. You rub the string between your fingers - it’s hot and trembling, swaying drunkenly as if buffeted about by the wind.
You pull at it, questioning.
You pull at it again.
Again.
There is no reply but it stays, curling in the corners of your vision for the rest of the day.
--
The next morning it is still there. You bite your lip and bundle his old coat around you to go collect more firewood. 
--
Day four. You stare into reflected, apprehensive eyes for too long before shakily wrapping the everpresent string into a bow around your hair. For some reason, it doesn’t feel the same as when he does it.
--
Yachi reads you off your total and you freeze, hand clutched around the small bag of flour. She looks at you oddly as your hair falls free around your shoulders.
There is a soft tug against your finger, faded by distance and ringing with reassurance, as the string finally, finally disappears from sight after the longest eight days of your life.
“Is everything OK?” she asks, mystified.
You dash the tears and drop the coins into her hand with a smile.
“Everything is perfect.”
--
The string fades in for the third time today and you snort. You’d like to imagine you can feel his annoyance even halfway across the world.
You give it a sharp tug for good measure.
Lost again, huh? 
He pulls grumpily back, and you bite back a giggle.
“How’s that pain-in-the-ass husband of yours doing?” Ukai Jr. asks from behind the bar.
The string bleeds away.
You think of a ship navigating the perilous ice, of unknowable depths and old sailor's tales, of the maps you watched him plot that stretch into expanses of blank parchment.
You think of jokes thrown across candle stubs and empty plates, of a crew that have become more of a family than either of you have ever had.
You think of the furrow he gets between his brows when he’s puzzling something over, his poorly hidden glee at the sight of the open sea.
The string fades in again, and there’s a pull from his end before you can do anything.
Don’t.
You grin. “He’s doing just fine.”
--
You wake to birdsongs. The sun is just peeking over the hills, the red string curled quietly on his pillow. You send three tugs, watch the string ripple out the window and imagine it stretching out, out, out across the seas to him.
Today was usually a day just for the two of you; no chores, no work. Just sunshine and bad jokes and the simple enjoyment of being together. One time he had pulled you along to the neighbouring town's county fair. Last year, you had taken him to the waterfall for lunch.
It was meant to be his choice this year.
You twine the string around your fingers as you wait. It glows softly in the morning light, a physical manifestation of how deeply lost you feel on this special day. He's not gone; he's still here in the scuffed shoes tucked under the bed, in his notes piled high on the desk, but they're not quite the same as hearing his hisses from the kitchen, or being able to sink into warm arms at the end of a rough day.
His returning tugs are delayed, aching and soft - one, two, three.
Sighing, you force yourself out of bed - the cows aren’t going to feed themselves.
Happy anniversary, love.
--
Most days the string isn't visible at all. And that's fine. Really, it is. It means he's not lost, and no news is good news, right?
Anyway, you’ve become quite content in your own company. He’s been gone long enough that you’ve found your solo rhythm and it's by no means easy, but you manage to keep busy enough.
And yet, the string is a double-edged sword - a reassuring and tangible connection between the two of you, but one that fills you with longing heartache all the same. There are days when you so keenly feel his absence; days of no special importance, but days where his company would just make the monotony more interesting. The mundane days, where you find yourself wanting a hug and instead having to settle for imagining the blur of red in your periphery.
You can lose minutes simply staring at your hand, trying to will the string back into colour. Wishful thinking isn’t something you can afford to indulge too often, but some days, if you focus hard enough, you think you can feel the invisible string pressing around your finger. 
Some days, wishful thinking is all that keeps you going.
--
“Hello, sorry.” You ignore the cheeky pull of the red string. He knows how you hate admitting you need help. “I’m a bit lost. Do you know where the blacksmith is?”
The man points up the road, explaining you need to go up past the post office and take a - twitch goes the string - and then follow the path that - another pull - and you should be there. Oh, but don’t - tug - because that will take you out of town.
You bite your tongue and thank the man, fond exasperation simmering in your chest. You might desperately miss him and his stupid antics, but you had almost forgotten how relentless his needling could be. 
As you lead Bess away, you pull sharply on the string. Much to your dismay, it doesn’t deter him in the slightest - an incessant barrage of tugs pull against your pinky, singing with his amusement from half a world away. Huffing out a sigh, you carefully flip the string around your hand. It’s smooth in your grip as you wind it around your palm and close your fingers over it-
And yank the string sideways.
Silence.
A single, pouting yank back.
Pushing down the smile tugging at your lips, you stop infront of the woman sweeping the front step of the post office.
“Hello, sorry. I’m a bit lost. Do you know where the blacksmith is?”
--
A laugh is pulled from you, glee ringing through the air. Hinata’s hand is sweaty in yours, and you grip it tighter as you swing round and round to the music echoing across the field. The wedding party is still holding strong, even this late into the night, and the chatter and music is rvight at home in tonight’s warm summer breeze. 
The song ends to cheers and you yell with them, high, unfiltered joy singing through your body. You drop into a chair, watching Hinata pull a giggling Natsu off the sidelines and head back out as the band striking up another well-loved tune.
The ever-present twinge of sea salt mixes with the sweet scent of the apple blossoms floating over from the orchard and you are content. The food was fresh and plentiful, Kiyoko looked gorgeous. And, you think smugly, Suga had cried before Tanaka did, so now Kinoshita owed you a beer. 
The music slows, and your finger aches at the sight of everyone else partnering up. You had promised yourself you weren’t going to let memories overshadow your fun tonight. There’s too much love around for you to fully feel his absence anyway, but you still catch yourself missing him above the crowd, searching for the wink he’d send across the room before returning to his own conversations.
Someone clears their throat. The string curls and sways between bodies as Takeda smiles down at you, eyes crinkled in understanding. 
“May I have this dance?”
--
You push hurriedly through the crowd, ducking between market stalls and wagons. There’s no string to follow, but you don’t need it to find him today. Asahi scrambles for the bolts of cloth you knock into and Suga yells something that gets stolen by the wind as you continue to run heedlessly towards the docks. 
Lev is on the dock already, only just visible through the small crowd gathering. Yaku yells directions from the ship, and you can see Shibayama sitting up on the boom, Kai pulling the jib down, so where is-
There.
He’s talking with Nekomata, gesturing up at the mast. You know it’s probably important, that there are things to be done on the ship before the crew can leave, but he’s been gone 402 days and you’re calling his name before you can stop yourself.
He twists around, and for the first time in over a year you watch his face split wide. The crowd parts for you as you’re darting forward and he vaults over the side of the ship. 
There are yells and whistles behind him but you couldn’t care less as you are swept into a tight spin, stumbling with him as you laugh. His salt-crusted shirt is coarse under your fingers, and when he kisses you he tastes like the sea; like salt-spray and dry rations and freedom. 
As soon as your hands find his cheeks you pull back sharply. There's a scar, a puckered pink line that cuts across his cheek and up into his hairline. He watches you carefully as you trace it with a feather-light touch.
“I thought I told you to have fun,” you admonish gently. 
“Who said I didn’t?”
You tsk. “What am I going to do with you?”
He grins, wilder than you remember, twisted a little by the scar, but full of familiar trouble. “Kiss me again, hopefully.” 
(How you’ve missed that grin.)
“Can’t imagine why I’d do a silly thing like that,” you say, even as you press your own grin to his.
Maybe he’s still a little wobbly on his feet, and he’s definitely thinner than when he left, but when he twines your hands together - no string in sight - your heart settles. 
He’s home, and you can’t really ask for anything more.
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jwillowwolf · 3 years
Text
Magic and Miracles - Chapter 11
Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 11!
< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >| Masterlist
Summary: He sighed in relief only to tense up when he noticed the expression on Logan’s face.
“What happened?”
“We need a miracle.”
Warning/s: food mention, minor violence.
Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus.
Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back
Read on AO3
11 | Danger Unknown
Once Virgil and Logan returned to the room, Virgil made a request not to be disturbed and they put up a magical barrier to keep anyone from using enchanted items or spells to spy on them. The group was sitting in the living area, with the tv turned off, and trying to come up with a plan of action, or at least a logical theory as to what is happening. So basically, they were stuck with no idea as to what was going on or what their next move should be.
Logan frowned. “Could these events be connected? Virgil’s parents and grandmother both being essentially missing.”
Remy shrugged. “Possibly. Right now though we’re just guessing.”
“I think that our next move is more obvious than we think,” Remus declared. “We need to find Virgil’s grandmother.”
Roman nodded. “But where to start?”
Remus shrugged. “Her room?”
“Whether she’s there or not though, they’ll have guards stationed there to keep up the ‘she’s sick and quarantined’ charade.” Janus pointed out.
“Oh! What if we use the teleportation spell?” Patton proposed.
“Would that even work in this realm?” Willow wondered. “And what if they have some kind of magic barrier like we have here?”
“Virgil, is there anyone who you would trust to tell you the truth about what’s happening? The best thing we can do is find a reliable source to inform us what’s going on.” Remy said.
Virgil sighed. “The Earl was my grandmother’s closest advisor, and I don’t think we can trust him at all.”
“What about the reporters? You said they give news to the people of this realm, so surely they would have some information,” Logan reasoned.
Virgil perked up. “I don’t know how reliable they’d be, but I guess that’s a start. We’d need to comb through the news channels on TV.”
“Ooh, I can do that. I figured out how to use the remote properly,” Patton proudly stated.
“I could do some reconnaissance. Like covertly listening in on what people say to each other,” Willow suggested.
“I can help keep you hidden while you’re doing that,” Janus added.
“Roman and I could also do some covert reconnaissance. Our hearing isn’t as good as Willow’s but it’s still pretty sharp,” Remus stated.
Virgil nodded. “Alright, Pat can look into what’s on the news while Remus, Roman, Janus and Willow act as our spy teams. Logan and I have left the room before, so we can go out again and try to see my grandmother or at least fake that we’re doing that to see how well her room is being guarded.”
Remy frowned. “Hang on kids. If there is something going on, I would like to get us out of here as soon as possible. You shouldn’t be getting too deep into stuff like this.”
“It’s dangerous, but we knew this was going to be risky when we agreed to it. And, really, this might be our safest option considering how the Earl was trying to convince Virgil to go back home.” Logan noted.
Remy sighed. “If you really need to check in on the queen, then I may know a spell that can help. But it’s difficult for normal mages to cast.”
The group exchanged curious glances. “What is it?”
“Mind linking,” Remy stated. “It’s a high-level spell that can allow a person to link their consciousness to someone else. You can’t do a full connection unless two people are doing the spell with each other, but there’s a way to use the spell to specifically disconnect one’s consciousness for a time in order to find other minds in the space around you. Aka this building. The spell goes through all kinds of loopholes and can work even inside or through magical barriers, but the caster needs a proficiency in mind magic…”
“So, theoretically, I could cast the spell?” Virgil asked.
“Yes, but another rule is you can’t cast the spell onto yourself.”
“You could cast it onto me though,” Logan said.
“I was actually thinking I could take the spell,” Remy declared.
“I think Logan should do this. If Pat’s watching the news, the twins, Janus, and Willow are out spying, and I’m maintaining this spell, then it would probably be a good idea to have someone checking news sites online, and we don’t have time to teach Logan about the internet,” Virgil pointed out.
“Inter-net? Is it some kind of magical net you catch information with?” Roman asked.
“Like I said, we don’t have time to introduce you guys to it. Maybe later though.”
Remy sighed. “Alright. But we’re going to need to go into full detail with this plan…”
The team did plan things out as best they could. Virgil explained to the spy team how to navigate the building. After that, Roman, Remus, Janus and Willow went to the elevator, casting invisibility spells on themselves that would make it so only they could see/detect each other, then went their separate ways.
Meanwhile, Remy showed Patton which channels were for the news and gave Logan the instructions for the Mind spell. Pat made notes on everything that was being said on TV in a small black notebook and once Remy finished instructing Logan he found a tablet to use the internet on.
“Remember, I’m only able to keep this up for five minutes, then you’ll be pulled back into your body,” Virgil said. “You know where to go?”
Logan nodded. “I’ll be fine, Virge. We can both pull this off.”
Virgil nodded. “Okay. You might want to lie down then.”
Logan laid down and closed his eyes as the spell was cast. He could feel as the magic flowed through his body like a gentle wave washing over the shore. For a moment he thought that the spell had failed since nothing else changed, but then he sat up and opened his eyes only to realise that he was outside of his own body. More specifically, he was floating just above his body like a ghost.
He felt suddenly excited at this discovery. It was like he was now a ghost completely disconnected from his physical form. A glance over to Virgil however reminded him of the current urgency of his mission. He was watching Logan’s body with a particular concern. Right now he had no idea what was happening to Logan and it was worrying him a great deal.
Logan wanted to reassure him in some way, but this form wouldn’t really be able to do that, so instead, he focused on finishing his task so that when Virgil pulled him back he would have some useful information. He floated up to the ceiling and then phased through it like it was nothing more than a cloud of fog. He navigated his way literally through the building quickly until he came to the hall outside of the queen’s bedroom.
There were indeed a pair of guards outside the door, but no one else seemed to be on this floor. Logan phased through the door and looked around if anyone was there. The room was lavishly decorated in silver and lavender tones, with a pair of ornate wardrobes on either side of a large vanity table, a wall to wall bookshelf, and a large king-sized bed. In the bed, someone was laying down.
On closer inspection, Logan found that the someone was a fae woman with long tresses of silver hair that was spread out all over her pillows. She looked weak and sickly, with cold sweat on her forehead. Logan reached out to touch her so he could hopefully see into her mind when a voice from behind him said.
“Hello.”
Logan whipped around to find the spirit of the woman in the bed standing behind him. “Gah!”
“Oh, sorry darling, I didn’t mean to scare you there. You came looking for me, right?”
“Queen Valeria?”
“The one and only!” The woman said with a smile before her face turned serious. “You’re my grandson’s friend. Correct?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Then I need you to get him out of here. Immediately. Tell my son what’s going on here so that he can save the rest of this world before it’s too late for the others. I won’t last long enough to see him again...”
“I- no, your majesty I don’t really know what is happening but I’m sure that Virgil will not leave if you’re going to-- to die.”
“Child, there is no way to save me. All of you need to go to Nico and explain to him that Earl Ynclementia has overthrown me. Then he’ll know what to do next once my powers transfer to him.”
“Ma’am… Prince Nico and King Thomas have both disappeared. They were attacked by an unknown spellcaster during a meeting and no one knows what’s happened to them or where they vanished to.”
Valeria paled. “No… then Ynclementia’s plan was successful. That’s just all the more reason for you to get Virgil out of here. If he receives my powers then… it all will fall to him…”
Logan felt a lump in his stomach at the realisation of what she meant. With his parents gone and his grandmother dying, Virgil would be forced to take rulership over both humans and fae. Except the fae realm has been stolen by the earl, and if Virgil reveals his heritage without his parents support, then lord knows what might happen.
The people could rise against him in fear. Dethrone or even kill him. Even if he were completely accepted as half-fae, they could still try to take away his throne on the excuse he was underaged and possibly didn’t have the necessary training to rule in his fathers’ steads.
“Your majesty, there must be something we can do. If you’re here outside of your body then surely there’s still time to heal you.”
“Dear, I don’t have much time left. The spell I’m using to keep myself alive will be gone soon enough. Nothing but a miracle could save me now. Please, my only wish is that Virgil is safe. Take him home and… tell him to destroy the porthole. Right now, I’m using a spell to keep Ynclementia here, but once I’m gone he will try to take over your realm as well. That cannot happen.”
“No, there has to be something. There has to be a way to save you.”
“As I said, nothing but a miracle could do that.”
Logan looked down at his feet sorrowfully, then an idea struck him. “A-a miracle. Like the mythical creature, Miracle?”
Valeria gave a short laugh. “I doubt there are any of those just walking around in your realm, much less this one.”
“But if we found one, it could save you?”
“Well, they’re supposed to have boundless knowledge of the universe, so possibly. But it’s impossible to find one. Please just… just get Virgil away. Right now he’s going to need good friends more than ever.”
Valeria stared sorrowfully at the painting above her door. Only now Logan noticed it. A large portrait of Valeria, Thomas, Nico, Tanya, Dune and Virgil, all together smiling happily. If the queen died now then Virgil really would need friends. His fathers were completely missing and neither Tanya nor Dune could leave the forest. In the castle, facing the duties of ruling a kingdom, Virgil would be completely alone.
Logan couldn’t let that happen.
He tried to say more to Valeria but he felt that his soul was being pulled back. As his vision faded he heard Valeria say one more time, “Take him home.”
Barely a blink and a breath later, his consciousness returned and Logan found himself back in his body, with Virgil staring at him in concern. He sighed in relief only to tense up when he noticed the expression on Logan’s face.
“What happened?”
“We need a miracle.”
Virgil tugged on his hood. “Is it that bad?”
“No, well, what I mean- ugh, do you remember Remus’s dream?”
“That one about the giant bagel?”
“No, the recurring one. That one that started on our vacation.”
“Oh, the nightmare.”
“Yes, that. To save the person, we needed to find the miracle that time left behind, right?”
“I’m with you so far.”
“I think that that dream was very literal…”
An hour later, the group was reunited and once again stuck thinking of what to do next. Logan explained everything that happened with Valeria, leaving Virgil terribly distressed, and then the spy team returned with the news that Ynclementia planned to use them as hostages since the plans to get rid of Virgil’s parents and assassinate Virgil ‘failed’.
“Assassinate me?”
Willow nodded. “That’s what a rockslide was. The agent Ynclementia sent must have believed they killed you then went off to get your parents.”
“And now Ynclementia thinks both plans failed so he needs you as a hostage to use against your fathers.” Janus sighed.
“The news isn’t giving me any hope either,” Remy stated. “It seems that they’ve… erased the queen. Like she or any of your family never existed. They’ve made it look like Earl Imbecile has always been in power and no one is speaking up about it.”
Patton nodded. “From what I’ve seen on TV they’re scared to even talk about him. Whenever they refer to anything he’s done or is doing, they have this terrible fear in their eyes.”
“Then it isn’t like they’ve been brainwashed or anything. They’ve been traumatized.” Roman theorised.
Remus chewed on her fingernails. “We need to get out of here.”
“Well, it’s not like we can just walk out of the place.” Janus declared. “They would lock us up for real if they caught us.”
“A porthole,” Willow said. “We can use a porthole to get ourselves back to the realm porthole and go home.”
“You pointed out earlier that kind of magic might not work in this realm.” Roman reminded them.
“Well, yeah, but how many successful spells have we used now?”
“Okay true.”
The group used a porthole to get themselves back to the realm porthole, then went through the second porthole and found Tanya, Dune, and a few other pixies waiting for them. Tanya looked at Virgil with a worried expression. She could already tell that something had gone wrong.
“Virgil?”
“...We need to close the porthole.”
---
A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.
I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜
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vintagedolan · 4 years
Text
no service (gbd)
Tumblr media
the boys do their first no tech challenge since you and grayson get together, and though they make it, something goes terribly wrong at home
word count: 5k
warnings/tags: angst, worried!grayson, hurt!y/n 
feel free to send in requests! i’ll write most things! hope you enjoy :)
Your POV:
“I dunno, I just have a weird feeling about this one.” Grayson’s fingers were twisting and untwisting the hem of your shirt, his nerves evident as you laid next to him in bed.
“Gray you’re gonna be fine, it’s just like before. You’ve got the van, and you’ve done survival stuff. Everything is gonna work out. I am gonna miss you though,” you gave him a sad smile.
Since you’d started dating, you’d been attached at the hip. You still had an apartment of your own, but if you were honest you needed to just bite the bullet and sell it - you practically lived with the twins, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. But that also meant that this was going to be the first long-ish stretch that you weren’t with each other. 
“It’s just 7 days baby, it’ll go by so fast.” Now he was comforting you, of course. 
“You’re gonna have the best time, I can’t wait to see the video when you get home.” 
“I’d send you pictures, but you know we won’t have our phones,” he sighed, running a finger along your jawline. “Not being able to see this face all week is gonna suck.”
You blushed deep red, warming his fingertips before you pulled away and crawled across the bed.
“Hey, where ya goin’?” Grayson pouted, but you ignored him for a second, going over to the dresser where you kept some of your clothes full time. You reached down, pulling out the little album that you’d been making as a gift for Grayson down the road. You pulled out one of your favorite pictures; from one of the first weeks that you’d been dating, it was the two of you with the LA skyline in the background, with you looking up at him as he smiled. 
“Here, take this with you.” You handed him the photo. “I know E will probably give you shit, but just hide it somewhere. Make sure you bring it back though, that one’s my favorite.”
“I love you,” he responded, but you barely heard it, because at that exact moment Ethan was banging on the door and yelling “GRAY! C’mon it’s time to go!” 
“And i’m going to kill my brother,” he groaned, reaching out and pulling you to him tightly, falling back on the bed. You landed on top of him, and his lips were on yours before you could say anything. He kissed you roughly for a minute, a bit of urgency there as he knew you weren’t going to be able to do this again for a while. Ethan knocked on the door again, and you felt Graysons arms tighten as he rolled over, putting you underneath him
“Go Gray, before he beats the door down,” you teased, pushing gently on his chest.
“I could just stay here with you,” he countered, raising an eyebrow.
“Go,” You giggled, pushing harder.
“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, kissing you again before getting up. “Alright E, I’m coming!” 
You followed him to the door where Ethan was standing in the doorway.
“Finally get him to stop crying and leave?” E asked.
“Oh shut up,” you teased, pushing on his chest so you could get by. He followed you, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you headed out to the van, which you knew was already packed.
You stayed out of the shot as they filmed a little intro explaining what they were doing. Grayson was so much more excited these days in all the videos, but even more so in the ones that had to do with adventures. You watched as the locked their phones in the box they’d used before, storing it under the benches in the van. 
Once the cameras cut, Gray made his way back over to you, wrapping you up in a tight hug.
“I love you. I’m gonna miss you so much,” he murmured into your hair.
“I love you too Gray. Be safe.”
“You too. Call Ricky if you need anything okay? He’ll still have his phone for emergencies.” 
“I’ll see you soon.”
-----------------------------------------------------
Grayson’s POV
His mind was already wandering as he continued driving down the road, already in Arizona. They were headed to Big Bend National Park, with the new challenge of not using their phones for navigation. Ethan was actually a good navigator, so once he got on the right highway it was just a matter of driving through Arizona and Texas, then down to the Mexico border to get to the park. 
“I think all this footage is gonna be sick, and I’m excited to get some star shots once we get to the park,” Ethan said. Gray just nodded along, watching the road.
“You good bro? You’re off, I can feel it.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a pit in my stomach about this whole thing. It’s makin’ me anxious,” Grayson explained, fists tightening on the wheel of the van. Ricky was in the back, sound asleep.
“What about it though? Is it something specific?” Ethan asked.
“I can’t put my finger on it. I just have a weird feeling. I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m just in my head.” 
“Is it Y/N?”
Sometimes, Grayson really hated sharing a mind. And this was one of those times. He stayed silent, which was enough of an answer for Ethan.
“She’s a fully capable person Gray. She’s gonna be fine without you for a few days.” 
“Thanks asshole, I know. Just drop it.” 
“Whatever,” Ethan shrugged, settling down into his chair a bit more, crossing his arms and getting comfy for the long trip ahead. 
And a long trip it was. They made it to the park around 1am, and were amazed at what they saw. Above them was the whole milky way, clear as day. 
They shot a quick clip explaining the main reason they’d come all the way to Big Bend.
“It’s a certified dark zone, which means no one is allowed to have building with lights out here. So theres no light pollution at all, it’s one of the best places in the world to see the stars,” Ethan explained. Grayson wasn’t paying too much attention; instead he was gazing up, and suddenly missing who he wanted beside him more than anything. 
It was going to be a long few days. 
Your POV:
The first four days were alright. You spent your time wandering around the house, enjoying all the space. You sat in Ethan’s comfy chair in the living room while you watched netflix, cuddled up in one of Grayson’s blankets from his bed that you’d dragged with you. It smelled like him, and it was comforting.
When that got boring you’d change into a swim suit, heading out to the pool - you’d given it a good cleaning, which you knew the boys would be thankful for when they got back. You were determined to get more of a tan than Gray by the end of the summer, and if you had any chance at all you needed to get a head start. 
By day five, the boredom was starting to get to you. You wanted to talk to Grayson, see his face, see his smile, hear his laugh. You even resorted to going back and watching a few of your favorite videos of theirs, just to hear his voice. You felt pathetic while you did it, but you also couldn’t really bring yourself to care too much if you were honest. All throughout the day you caught yourself pulling out your phone to text him, but you knew he wouldn’t see them. 
Still, you’d send a message just for fun, knowing he would see them once he got back and was allowed to have his phone. You could just imagine his face when he got back and saw all the little messages you’d left. 
miss youuuuu
hey u should come home now, k thanks
I stole your favorite hoodie and you’re never getting it back oops
im gonna hide all your building stuff, that’s the level of boredom i’m at
this shit sucks 
i love you
I wanna go on the next adventure :(
But as you sent the last one, it sparked an idea. 
You could make your own adventure. Nothing was stopping you, and you had nothing better to do. The weather was nice, and there was supposed to be some good surf coming in.
And so, that was that. You packed up a towel, your wetsuit and some sunscreen, heading out to the car. You decided to take the Bronco, just because it had the surf rack on top. Grayson still wasn’t too keen on anyone driving his car, but he trusted you with it more than Ethan, and you knew he wouldn’t really care.
So you packed up your surfboard, struggling a bit to get it on top of the roof and strapped down - Grayson always made it look so damn easy. But you managed, finally getting in and heading to the beach. The drive was beautiful, as always, but you missed being in the passenger seat with Grayson’s hand on your thigh. 
Damn. These last few days were gonna suck. 
Grayson’s POV:
“I think we’re really getting the hang of this bro. I’m excited. We could do this full time, for real,” Grayson grinned, packing up a few things in the van while Ethan filled up the packs with water. Ricky was filming, so he took the opportunity to explain what was happening.
“So guys, today we’re going on the longest, and most difficult hike in Big Bend. It’s called South Rim, it’s about 14 miles total, but we’re gonna split it up and actually camp about halfway so we can get even cooler views tonight. Now, Ethan and I like to say we’re hikers, but honestly, we kinda suck.”
“Yeah, we uh, we’re not great,” Ethan chimed in. 
“So this should be fun!”
“Oh yeah, great time.” 
“And obviously we don’t have our phones, so we’re gonna have no idea what time it is, we won’t be able to call for help if we get, ya know, mauled by a mountain lion or something.”
“Bro, why would you say that!?” Ethan groaned.
“It’s the truth! Well, I guess Ricky has his phone though, so we’d be alright.”
“My phone hasn’t had service since we got here,” Ricky countered from behind the camera. 
“Oh we are so fucked dude,” Ethan grumbled.
And in all honesty, it put a bit of a pit in Gray’s stomach, knowing he wouldn’t be able to contact anybody if something happened. But he pushed the thought from his mind, moving to help his brother pack up the tent and begin their trek.
Your POV:
The beach wasn’t too crowded, which was a blessing. When you said you liked to surf, it usually meant that you liked to catch 1 wave out of the 50 you tried for. You were a beginner, that was for sure. There were only about 20 people on the entire beach, and a few surfers out on the break, with the lifeguard keeping a close eye on them.
Even if you didn’t feel it, you looked the part in your wetsuit, board tucked under your arm. You snapped a quick picture, sending it to Grayson’s non-existent phone just for kicks.
wish you were here! you’d be laughing at how much I’m gonna suck. love you!
After it sent, you put it away in the waterproof box you’d brought. You made your way over to the lifeguard station, waving up at the man sitting atop the chair.
“Hey, I’m here by myself, do you care if I leave this box here with you?” You asked politely. 
“Yeah that’s fine. Be careful out there,” he responded, not taking his eyes off the water. You put it down by the legs of the chair, jogging towards the water. The ocean was cold when it hit your skin but you adjusted quickly, diving in and heading out to the break. 
And as you predicted, you missed practically every single one you tried to get up on. You hit the water over and over again, your arms sore from pushing up to standing, even if it was to no avail.
You began paddling in after about an hour, accepting defeat, when suddenly you noticed everyone beside you paddling out instead of in. 
The lifeguard’s whistle came too late. By the time you turned around, the wave was already there, towering feet above any that had come prior. 
And you were right in the break.
You’d read about these before. Rouge waves, you remembered. Random waves that come from nowhere, with no apparent cause. You had just enough time to suck in your breath before it crashed directly over your head.
It felt like the inside of a washing machine looked - that was the only way you could describe it. And then you felt something warm on your head, and everything went black.
Grayson’s POV:
It was the morning of day six, and Grayson had never been more ready to get home. The pit in his stomach was a rock now, and he had no explanation for it at all. 
“Bro we’re actually disgusting. Like we need a real shower somewhere, or we’re never gonna get the smell out of this van,” Ethan said. And he was right. After all the hiking and sleeping in the tent, the three of them reeked. 
“We could do a gas station shower, we just gotta map our way there without our phones. I don’t think that breaks the rules, we just aren’t supposed to use technology,” Ricky shrugged.
“Alright sick, we might as well start driving. Gray, you okay?” E asked.
“Yeah. Just don’t feel good,” he mumbled. He kept himself curled up in the back of the van, head resting on the table as Ethan found his way out of the park and towards the nearest town.
Grayson couldn’t figure out what was bothering him so much. He wasn’t dehydrated, he hadn’t eaten anything bad. He should be having the time of his life, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. It was like the time that Ethan had cut his leg open when they were kids; Grayson wasn’t near him, but he just knew. It was exactly that feeling, except Ethan was right there in front of him, perfectly fine. So he just kept his head down, hoping whatever it was would pass.
They found the gas station about 45 minutes later, and the three of them headed in eagerly. Maybe a good warm shower would clear his mind. 
And once he was done, he did feel better. But only slightly. It was getting harder to breathe. He headed out, noticing that Ricky was already in the van and Ethan was waiting outside. 
“Gray, dude you don’t look good. What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m getting sick man. I’ve been sick to my stomach since yesterday, and I feel like I can’t breathe now. Maybe I’ve got a really bad allergy to something out here. I’m sorry man, I’m trying to shake it so I can be up for the video, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.” 
“Guys.” Ricky’s voice was serious, much more serious than normal.
“What’s up?” E asked. 
“I just got service again, and I’ve got 12 missed calls, all from the same number. I don’t recognize it though. LA area code.”
“Call it. Call it now.” Grayson’s answer came before he could even think about it. He felt like he was going to hurl.
Ricky dialed it back quickly, holding the phone up to his ear. The twins climbed in the back, sitting down across from him at the table.
“This is he.” Ricky said. “Um, yeah, yeah he’s right here.”
Grayson’s blood went ice cold when Ricky held the phone out for him.
“It’s for you.”
He felt robotic and he reached out, taking the phone and putting it up to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Mr. Grayson Dolan?” 
“Yes.”
“Hi Grayson. We’re just calling on behalf of Ms. Y/N Y/L/N from King Hospital, you’re listed as her primary emergency contact.”
“Is she alright? What happened?”
“She’s stable right now. We don’t have all of the details, she’s been in and out of consciousness. She was in an accident -”
“Accident?” Grayson’s voice cracked, and Ethan stiffened up beside him. As if it was instinct, he felt his brothers hand on his shoulder, anchoring him just enough that he could listen.
“She was out surfing at Manhattan Beach, the lifeguards said there was a rouge wave. They got her out quickly, but they think she hit her head on some rocks when she went under. She wasn’t breathing when they got to her, but she was stabilized in the ambulance. She told us to call Ricky off her phone when she was conscious because you wouldn’t have your phone. We’ve had her sedated so her brain could rest, but it looks like we’re going to need to take her in for surgery, because we found some deep lacerations on her head and want to check for anymore significant damage.”
“Surgery?” Grayson expected himself to go numb, but he almost had the opposite. He was so overwhelmed that it was crippling. “How soon?”
“As soon as we’re able. She isn’t able to give consent, so we needed to get in contact with you if possible. Are you able to get here quickly?”
“I’m - I’m not in the state, I’m in Texas.”
“Well, a telephone consent will do,” the nurse said.
“Oh. Okay, yeah. Yeah, I consent. Do what you need to, please just be careful.” It was dumb thing to say, he knew that, but he couldn’t help himself. 
“Thank you Mr. Dolan, we will. And we’ll keep you updated. Should we call at this number, or the one you have listed?” 
“The one I have listed is fine, I have it now.” 
Ethan knew exactly what that meant and was immediately scrambling to find the box with their phones while Ricky got the key ready off his keychain. 
“Alright, speak soon Mr. Dolan.” 
And with that she hung up the phone.
“I’m gonna be sick,” were the only words that Grayson could manage as he crawled to the back of the van and hurled over the bumper. Ethan followed him, holding onto his shoulders and trying to stabilize him so he didn’t fall out.
“What do we need to do Gray?”
“Drive. We need to get home, now.”
Without further questions, Ricky climbed into the drivers seat as they closed up the back of the van, immediately heading in the direction of California. 
When Gray finally managed to get enough air in his lungs, he was able to look up at Ethan, who was sitting opposite of him. 
“Y/N’s hurt. I think it’s pretty bad.”
“Tell me what happened.” 
And so he did, to the best of his ability. He didn’t have very much information, which was the hard part. But he told his brother everything that the nurse did.
“Well, if she was with it enough to give them Ricky’s number instead of yours, that’s good. That means she was alright when they got her in the ambulance.”
“Right. I wonder if she tried to call me.” The thought made his stomach tighten.
“Your phone was dead, it’s charging up front right now. Either way, we’re headed back as quick as we can.” 
Grayson noted that the van was moving quite quickly - Ricky was definitely speeding, but he didn’t care. 
“E.”
“I know Gray. I’m scared too. But she’s gonna be alright. She has to be.” 
She’s gonna be alright
She’s gonna be alright
He repeated the words over and over again in his head, sometimes mumbling them aloud. A few minutes later, his phone was charged. Ethan climbed to the front to get it. Without having to ask, Ethan knew that Grayson wanted him to screen his texts, just to see. And he could tell there were texts from her just by his face.
“E. If she text me about all this and I didn’t answer, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.” 
“She wouldn’t have been able to, she didn’t take her phone in the water. These are all from before.” 
He held out his hand.
Looking at the texts was his undoing. He could hear her voice, clear as day in his head as he read them, making it all the much harder. He began to sob, uncontrollable ragged sounds. Ethan put an arm around his shoulder in silent support, as he often did. And Ricky continued down the road.
------------------------
It was the longest 15 hours of his life. They’d checked to make sure it wasn’t quicker to stop in Phoenix and put Grayson on a flight - driving straight through was faster. But god it felt like it was taking years. He held the picture he had of him and Y/N in his hand, but he couldn’t look at it for too long without losing it. 
Ethan was driving now, with Grayson in the passenger seat - he hadn’t been forced to take a turn, everyone knew he was in no shape to drive. 
Everyone in the car was on edge, which meant they all jumped practically to the ceiling when Grayson’s phone rang. He answered on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Dolan?” It was a different voice this time.
“Yes.”
“Hi, this is Y/N’s surgeon, just calling with an update. Y/N is out of surgery, and she did great! No complications, and the damage seems pretty minimal, though we’ll have to see once she wakes up.” 
He took his first real breath in the last 15 hours. 
“That’s great news. Thank you.”
“So she’s in recovery right now, but she’s gonna be unconscious for the next 30 minutes or so. Should we be expecting you?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m headed there right now, I should be there in about 25 minutes according to my GPS.”
“Alright perfect. Well, she’s in room 828 on the post op wing when you get here, just sign in at the desk and we’ll bring you up. We’ll take good care of her.”
“Thank you so much doctor.”
“She’s alright. Out of surgery, should be waking up soon,” he explained as soon as he hung up. The relief was obvious, especially for Ethan. Gray had been so caught up in his own worry that he’d forgotten how worried Ethan must be - Y/N was practically his sister. Grayson watched as his brother pressed just a tiny bit more on the gas, racing towards the hospital.
When they arrived, Grayson couldn’t get out of the van fast enough. He bolted for the entrance, with Ethan in tow. Ricky stayed in the car out of privacy, offering to get them anything they needed. 
They went through the motions of check in - something they were all too familiar with - and Grayson followed the nurse up to the post op floor, where he was transferred over to the nurse that had initially called him. 
“She’s starting to stir just a bit. Just to prepare you, we aren’t sure how confused she’s going to be when she wakes up. With the mixture of anesthesia and her concussion, she may be very out of it. Just be patient with her, she should come around to her normal self within the next few hours. She’s right through here.” The nurse stopped outside the door, opening the door with a gentle push. 
“You wanna go alone, or do you want me with you?” Ethan asked, hesitating.
“With me.” He didn’t have to think about it. 
Grayson went in first, and if Ethan hadn’t been behind him, he probably would have fallen to his knees. Y/N was in the hospital bed, gown over her still form, her head partially wrapped in gauze. She had oxygen tubes in her nose and was breathing deeply, laying flat on her back, eyes closed. Just the image of her in the whole hospital garb was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He hated it more than he could have imagined. 
Once he was stable enough on his feet, Grayson headed to her bedside. As he got closer, she started to stir a bit, fingers twitching as he sat down as gently as he could on the side of her bed. It was as if she knew he was there already, even though he hadn’t said a word or touched her at all. 
“Mmmmmm.” She started to make a noise, her dry lips parting.
“Baby?” Grayson leaned forward, taking her hand in his, careful not to move her IV. 
“Mmm- mad.” She mumbled, eyes still closed.
“Mad?” He looked back at Ethan for clarification, but he just nodded. Grayson raised a hand up to cup her cheek, and she smiled, resting her head in his palm. He revealed in the feeling, taking it in. 
“Bronco.” This time, her word was clear, though it didn’t make anymore sense. 
“Baby. Y/N, can you open your eyes sweetheart?” Grayson coaxed, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. 
“Tryin’. It’s heavy,” she said, scrunching her eyebrows. He could tell she was really doing her best, which made his heart squeeze a bit tighter. When she finally managed to lift her eyelids, he could tell she was exhausted. 
“You’s gonna be mad at me,” was the first sentence she managed to string together, though all her words were drawn out and slightly garbled. 
“Why would I be mad at you baby?”
“I drove the bronco, left it at the beach. Probs some homeless guy living in it,” she said, resting all the weight of her head onto his hand. 
“It’s okay. I really couldn’t care less about the car right now.”
“Don’t say that, Ethan will be big sad.” She gasped then, sitting upright a little more. “Ethan! Hi buddy!” She had just noticed him at the end of the bed. She blinked hard, like she was trying to bring him into focus.
“Hey girly, how yah feelin?” 
“Got a cracked skull, but i’ms okay. But guess what?”
“What?” He asked.
“Still smarter than youuuuu,” she shrugged, and Grayson couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
She really was back to normal.
“You want me to go get the car?” Ethan asked, sitting on the opposite side of her bed and for once, choosing not to throw a comeback. He really had been worried.
“I don’t have keys. Or my phone. I left em with the lifeguard,” she pouted, her lip curling down. If it wasn’t so pitiful, he would have found it adorable. 
“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it,” Grayson reassured her, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. 
The nurse came in then to check on her. Ethan moved out of her way, and Grayson was about to move away, but Y/N grabbed his hand, using all her strength to hold him there.
“Don’t go,” she whimpered, and he swore he could feel a piece of his heart crack.
“I’m right here, just getting out of the nurses way,” he promised, kissing her hand and standing next to the bed.
“You guys are fine, I’ll let you know if you’re somewhere I need to be,” the nurse smiled. “How’re you feeling Y/N?” 
“Sore, but okay.”
“Well, you’re a trooper. I’ve never seen anyone come out of anesthesia so clear headed before. Now, you might get confused in a little while, but that’s just the concussion, and it’ll pass, okay? Just gotta give it time. You just rest and give your body some time to heal. You should be ready to rock and roll out of here in the next few days, okay?” 
“M’kay. Is my phone lost forever?” She asked.
“Actually the lifeguard that pulled you out dropped off your box with your things earlier. It’s over there with your other belongings.” 
Grayson made a mental note to find that guy and thank him profusely in the future. Ethan went over to the personal items bag, bringing it over to the bed. Y/N started to rummage through it, pulling things out one by one. 
When she got her wetsuit out - which took some effort - she frowned, running her finger over the new cut that Grayson assumed was made by the paramedics. He tried as hard as he could to not picture what the ambulance looked like when that cut was made.
“They cut it,” she pouted. “That was my favorite one.”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” Grayson reassured her. 
“M’kay,” she mumbled, satisfied. She cuddled down a little bit into her pillow, obviously exhausted. Grayson continued going through the bag, getting the keys and her phone out of the box. 
“I’m gonna get the car before it gets towed. Give you all a minute,” Ethan said quietly, having a hand out for the keys.
“Thanks bro. I’ll keep you updated.” 
He was extremely grateful, but he couldn’t find the words. He hoped Ethan knew.
“Gray,” Y/N said quietly. 
“Hey baby, I’m right here.” 
“M’tired,” she murmured, holding a hand out. “Can we sleep?” 
“You can sleep sweetheart,” Grayson reassured her. 
“C’mere. Come up here,” she said, patting the bed next to her. 
Grayson obliged, sliding his arms under her knees and behind her back, scooting her over just enough so that he could slide into the bed beside her. 
“Much better. I missed you. Maybe don’t go for so long next time,” she said, curling up against him and getting as close as she could.
“Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you for a long, long time.”
“Sounds good to me,” she mumbled, but she was already falling asleep before the end of the sentence. So Grayson held her close to him, relishing in the feeling and lulling off to sleep. 
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ace-oreos · 4 years
Note
Fordo being protective of his batchmates, that’s it that’s the ask please
Fordo being a good brother is just...  🥺 🥺 🥺
I really love his relationship with his vode okay 
I broke this down into three little snapshot type things so we could squeeze in some other characters besides just Fordo and Alpha. :D Borrowing Vortex was entirely necessary and I am SO DOWN to do it again - 
Anyways. Hope you like it! And I hope I didn’t write Fordo too similar to Alpha. XD
Tags: @dudewhynotthis @delta-the-mando @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @or-te-ka-ra (taglist is open!) 
17’s distracted frown has become a common sight lately. Fordo can only guess its cause this time around - it could be anything from cadets not performing to standard to another report of high casualties from another pointless assault ordered by a nat-born officer. 
Whatever the reason, it doesn’t take him long to decide that someone ought to broach the subject. It’s hardly likely that 17 will decide to do it himself, so Fordo takes the initiative.
“Me’vaar ti gar?” he asks, keeping his tone casual.
“The usual.” 17 looks tired. He’ll never admit it, of course, but it just so happens that Fordo knows him better than most. You weren’t always like this.
The usual could mean any number of things. 17 isn’t keeping him in the dark deliberately, but Fordo never liked having to guess and prod for details.
“Performance scores,” his brother clarifies as if he sensed the incoming question. “They’re lower than they should be, and I’d be lying if I said I knew why.”
“New batch?” Fordo guesses.
17 shakes his head. “That’s the problem. They’re halfway through the course.”
“Have you changed anything lately?”
“Nothing that wasn’t planned for.”
“Give them some time,” Fordo advises. It’ll likely do little to placate his brother, but on the whole 17 tends to take such things better when it comes from Fordo. A nat-born or a shiny wouldn’t stand a chance.
“We haven’t got time,” 17 mutters, more to himself than Fordo. 
“If you’ve done your job, you’ve done everything you can,” Fordo says bracingly, hoping a more direct approach will resonate with 17. “The rest is up to them.”
“If they’re not up to standard, then that’s on me,” 17 says flatly. 
It’s not a matter of their lackluster performance reflecting poorly on 17, Fordo knows; it’s the difference between life and death. For all that 17 insists on separating himself from his cadets, he wouldn’t have bothered taking training detail if he didn’t care. 
“You’ll figure it out,” Fordo assures. “Or it’ll work itself out. There’s bound to be some trial and error along the way.”
17 doesn’t look convinced, but his chin dips in a nod.
You’ll see, Fordo promises, wishing he could better articulate some sort of reassurance, if 17 would tolerate it. It’s not always down to you. 
He’s always pushed himself too hard, 17 - always burdened himself with carrying the weight of Jango’s legacy as though he couldn’t entrust any of the man’s ninety-nine other sons to do the job themselves. Fordo shouldn’t count himself grateful, but he can’t deny that he would be all too happy to pass it up, given the choice.
Better you than me, ner vod.
Fordo doesn’t pretend he always understands what goes on his brother’s mind, but if he can share that burden, even temporarily… well, he’ll have upheld his end of the deal. 
______________
For all that they’re soldiers, the near-constant disquiet lurking in Vortex’s eyes is a stark reminder that there are some obstacles even Jango Fett couldn’t overcome.
Fordo prefers to have a target in front of him, himself - an enemy that has the decency to identify itself from the start. He’s never grappled with things that can’t be seen when he can avoid it; those are Jedi matters, the likes of which Fordo doesn’t have any problem ignoring so long as it’s not an imminent threat.
He doesn’t bother asking Vortex if he’s okay. In short, he’s not. His brother is fearless and cunning and strong-willed - but he’s vulnerable, too. He’s on guard far too often for one to wonder if there isn’t a reason for it.
You don’t have to protect yourself from me, Fordo wants to say. But the invitation to lower those carefully crafted shields will only drive Vortex away. It’s a complexity Fordo doesn’t fancy he’ll ever unravel, so he navigates the situation as best he can.
“I have some stuff to take care of if you want to join me,” he says. “Mission reports and the like. Nothing exciting, but I’d welcome the company.”
The answer in Vortex’s eyes is plain. The hesitation isn’t far behind. It’s almost painful, to see how clearly his brother longs to give in, only to be held back by some inhibition that isn’t entirely of his own making.
“Hey,” Fordo presses gently. This isn’t his territory at all, but if he doesn’t try, who will? 
“You don’t have to explain anything to me if you’re not ready. But you don’t have to be alone, either.”
Vortex wavers.
“Besides, someone has to keep me on track,” he continues, opting for a route that’s kinder all around. “As Seventeen so kindly reminds me, I’ve been lagging in the paperwork department.”
Vortex’s first instinct will always be to turn to Alpha, but Fordo likes to imagine he’s a suitable alternative. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the gratitude that smooths the creases of his brother’s frown. 
It’s not quite a smile, but it tells Fordo everything Vortex doesn’t yet know how to say.
_____________
Plenty of their brothers dismiss Maze out of hand for being too uptight or too rigid, but there are times when Fordo finds his methodical manner oddly reassuring. It’s almost comical, the contrast between their respective approaches, but Maze is as steady as they come. 
“Sounds messy,” Maze opines when Fordo gives him a rundown of the situation that’s brewing in the Ryloth system.
“Got it in one.” Talking to a grainy holo of his brother isn’t half as satisfying as holding a conversation face-to-face, but Fordo takes what he can get. “Guess who’s on standby.”
“Why not send an infantry battalion?” Maze says critically. “Your squad shouldn’t be used as front-line troops.”
“Tell that to command,” Fordo says, unable to hold back a sigh. “We go where sent.”
“Go careful, though, yeah?”
“With the way things have been going this could blow over in a few days. I’m not too worried.”
“Or it could get out of hand,” Maze cautions. “I wouldn’t assume anything if I were you.”
It’s nothing Fordo hasn’t figured out for himself, but he doesn’t berate his brother for it. Maze doesn’t get too many field missions anymore; Fordo can only imagine how frustrating it must be to watch the rest of the Special Operations Brigade come and go on any number of high-risk assignments. 
“You ought to see if Zey will let you loose for a while,” he suggests. “Field ops take priority over paperwork.” 
Desk duty is a waste of Maze’s skills, too, but even Fordo knows better than to say that.
Maze’s jaw tightens. “I’m sure someone will need a new assignment soon.”
Not that they have the numbers for that; the first year of the war did a number on the commando squads. Even with the combined strength of the cross-trained ARCs and Republic commandos, they’re operating at less than half the original strength of the brigade. Fordo doesn’t see the sense in keeping Maze tied to Coruscant, and he can’t fathom why it’s so difficult for General Zey to puzzle out, either. 
“We’ll watch our backs,” Fordo promises. “You promised me a drink a while ago, remember?” 
Maze cracks a smile. “So I did.”
“I’m holding you to that. Gotta have something to keep me going out here.”
“K’oyacyi, ner vod.”
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scullydubois · 4 years
Text
one-shot: does a scully pee in the woods?
read on ao3 |  msr flirting and fluff | 1.6k | rated t | s6, pre-Field Trip
tagging @today-in-fic
While driving to North Carolina, Scully has to resort to some dubious tactics to convince Mulder to stop so she can use the bathroom. Unfortunately, she doesn't specify where he should stop...
---------
He promised they would stop once they made it out of Virginia. What Scully didn’t realize is that Virginia is five hours worth of highway, and despite his assurance that he is “driving as fast as he can” and his natural tendency to cruise as much over the speed limit as they can go without getting pulled over, they have still not made it out of the state.
“The next exit, Mulder, please,” she begs, squirming in her seat. She is not used to driving this long. Usually they hop on a flight--with a bathroom, thank you very much--and then head just a few miles out to their destination. But of course, the FBI is cutting their budget, and according to Skinner, the only way they could take this case is if they agreed to make the six and a half hour trip to North Carolina by car. Which hadn’t sounded that bad to either of them. I mean, the open road, the radio, and each other for six hours? What could be wrong with that? Then again, they hadn’t stopped to consider how early they would have to leave DC to make their lunchtime meeting, nor the exponential decline in their ability to tolerate one another with each increasing hour.
Mulder drums the steering wheel in time with the beat of the classic rock song playing. “I’m telling you, we’re almost to the state line. If you’ve made it this far, you can make it another twenty minutes.”
“Are you willing to test that theory?” Scully prods, an eyebrow elevating itself. “Because I know you are a man of many theories, but I really don’t think this is one you want to mess with.”
“Oh, I do.” He flashes a quick smile at her, as if to confirm that, yes, he is amused by her suffering, if she hadn’t noticed.
“ Mulder…” she whines, not even bothering to construct a coherent argument. It’s time to play the card she never plays, the one that will catch his attention and show him that she is serious about this. She hates to stoop this low, but at this point, it’s either play the card or pee her pants.
“Mulder,” she makes her voice sound languid and far out, “has anyone ever told you that you bear a great resemblance to Cary Grant in his young and handsome days?”
He is rather unphased by this. Too unphased for Scully’s liking. “No, and I really don’t, do I?”
“Oh, absolutely.” She lets her voice flutter through the confines of the car. “Dreamy, boyish, yet somehow retaining your masculinity. It’s astonishing, really.”
She sneaks a glance at him. He’s stopped tapping along to the song. He turns the radio down to listen to her like a dog’s ears pricking toward their owner’s voice.
She looks through the windshield, continues her reverie. “He looks like such a gentleman, but I can’t imagine that he’s a gentleman in…” She trails off suggestively, waiting for Mulder to raise some objection.
When she looks at him out of the corner of her eye, he is already looking at her. “What?” she offers innocently. “Do you have proof otherwise?” It’s always a contest of right or wrong for them.
“No, but I might have proof of aliens. Bounty Hunter, I know that’s you, what have you done with the real Scully?”
She considers what would happen if the Bounty Hunter had disguised himself as her and was driving alone with Mulder in the middle of a five lane highway with dozens of other cars. “You know, you’d be screwed right now if it were.”
“Yeah, I get that feeling.”
She wets her lips, navigates the next sentence with precision. “But since it’s not, you can get screwed instead.”
Mulder almost swerves into a jeep in the next lane. “Jesus, Scully!”
“I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable…?”
He focuses on the road. “Something like that, yeah.”
“Gee, I wonder what’s that like.” She looks at him with a devilish closed-mouth grin.
Mulder registers this and looks away just as he cracks his own smile. Silly, misbehaving, rebellious Scully has a power over him that would be comparable to religion, if he had one.
“So what I’m hearing is, you want to forsake your opportunity to make it the whole way through Virginia without stopping just so that you’ll actually have some semblance of comfort?” He checks to see if she’s smiling and is happy when she is.
“Something like that, yeah,” she says, imitating his reply from earlier by donning a outlandishly deep voice.
He coughs to hold back a laugh. “Well, the lady’s wish is my command, though I must warn you that the next exit’s not for another seven miles.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, we just passed a sign.”
“Mulder, I don’t know what kind of bladder you think I have, but I’ve drank two cups of coffee since the drive started and one before I left my apartment. I would classify this as an emergency.”
“I’ll pull over, then.” He switches lanes, turns on the emergency lights, and presses the brake slightly as he pulls onto the shoulder, all before she can protest.
“This is humiliating, Mulder,” she laments as he unlocks his door, pulls it open.
“While we’re at it, I’ll go too. Save us a stop in North Carolina.”
He’s way too excited about this, she thinks. She unclicks her seatbelt and climbs out of the car like a child dragged to church by their parents.
They proceed toward the woods at the edge of the highway. Mulder leads the way, a subtle spring in his step about getting to return to nature, so to speak, and to embarrass Scully while doing it.
As they hit the dividing line between grass and trees, Mulder looks back at this partner.
“Have you ever peed in the woods, Scully?” he asks with a smirk. “I’m assuming that’s what’s happening here, since you mentioned the coffee.” Scully winces at the rather disgusting image his implication puts in her mind.
She puts on a scholarly, serious tone as they head deeper into the trees. “You know, Mulder--and I’m glad we’re clearing this up-- I have peed in the woods actually. I seem to remember we were stuck in the woods overnight just last year. In Florida, was it? And contrary to what you may believe, I actually did relieve myself during that period of time. Thanks for asking.”
“Wow, you learn something new everyday,” Mulder jokes.
“Exactly.” Scully can’t help but laugh. What a funny little situation this is. They have shared so many instances when the stakes were much higher, life-threatening even, and this is what feels so grueling.
The vehicle noise having quieted significantly, Mulder gauges that they’re far enough from the roadway now. He stakes out a pine tree and steps up to it.
“Don’t look, Scully!” he teases, as if she needed the reminder, as if he really cared.
As he stands there, pants unzipped and all, he can’t help but wonder how many years this tree stood here before some human just decided to come over and do their business on it. That has to suck, huh? You’re just going about your usual tree life--swaying in the wind, rooting deep into the Earth, maybe providing a home for some critters--and then this creature that’s like, fifty times smaller than you comes over and pulls their pants down. What the hell?
A few yards away, Scully hunts for a place that might preserve an ounce of her dignity. Not that she has any left at this point, but it’s a nice idea. There’s some bushes not far off, or she could take a cue from Mulder and squat against a tree. This process is so much more complicated for a woman--you have to get down low, check the ground around you, not hit your shoes…
She chooses a spot behind a bush and crouches down. She hears Mulder zipping his fly, wonders if he’ll be able to see her when he turns around. She can’t see him, so theoretically he shouldn’t be able to see her,  but he’s so much taller that she’s never sure. Then again, she’s not as objected to being seen by him as she expected herself to be. Still, she waits for him to say something.
“Scully, please tell me this wasn’t just some elaborate plot to abandon me in the woods.”
“I’m over here, Mulder,” she reassures. “But don’t come over.”
“Why, what are you doing?” He laughs at his own joke.
“Very funny,” she says, trying to cover the sound of her faculties. This feeling of release is so desperately needed that it’s almost orgasmic. She finishes, then rezips her pants while staying as crouched as possible. Sated, she stands up, pops into Mulder’s view. She tightens her belt as she walks over to him.
She sighs. “I’m glad that’s over.” Mulder smiles. She’s been through far worse, in far more unpleasant conditions, and this is what bothers her. A complex being, his Scully is. They retrace their steps toward the highway.
“You do know that toilets weren’t invented until like, the Renaissance, right?” he teases.
“Sure, but they weren’t just squatting in the woods!”
He pulls the car keys from his pocket. “I guess we’ve solved another X-file…”
Scully gives him the look she’s been giving him for six years.
“...does a Scully pee in the woods?”
She bites her lip, obscures her smile. That’s her Mulder.
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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years
Text
Shake: Chris and Laken
(Why do so many of Chris’s pieces end up having a title of just a single word? Huh. This is just a very smol drabble I’ve been meaning to write and is basically a present for @slaintetowhump, as is most of my Laken content let’s be honest here)
Timeline: College!Chris, early in his burgeoning relationship with Laken. I’d say first semester in college. 
Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @stxckfxck, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout, @doveotions, @pretty-face-breaker
CW: Some brief references to past trauma/noncon, fucky survivor thoughts on navigating consent and relationships post-recovery, memories of conditioned thoughts around spice
“I can’t believe you’ve never tried this before,” Laken says, leaning over, so close their knees are nearly brushing his, and Chris’s eyes are caught in theirs. Dark, so dark, and ringed in black eyeliner that makes them seem even wider and darker, pools he could dip into and not ever come back from. 
“I... I, I might, um, might h-have,” Chris says, his voice strained and a little rough around the edges. All the hairs on his arms and his neck have stood up, goosebumps rolling over his skin as Laken’s hand moves. “I don’t remember.”
Laken pauses, giving him that sort of thinking-look they have sometimes when he says he doesn’t remember things, or doesn’t know a movie or show or some big national thing everyone else does. Then they seem to shrug that moment off, but Chris caught the pause.
He should have pretended to know about this. 
He’s just so tired sometimes of lying.
They pick up a single french fry from the plate they and Chris and are sharing, skinny as a matchstick, one of the fries not already drenched in the neon-yellow-orange cheese sauce they’d ordered. Laken smiles, top teeth just resting on their full bottom lip, and dips the fry into the chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top they have right in front of them.
“See? Dip, hold for one second-” Laken holds up a single finger on their other hand for emphasis, and Chris can’t help the way his own mouth stretches in a smile. “-and eat!” 
They pop the french fry into their mouth, closing their eyes, and Chris loves the perfect even line of their eyeliner, the way it swoops just a little further than the corner of their eyes. 
“Now you try.” Laken points back at the plate, and Chris’s eyes drop quickly down to it, his face reddened and warm at the idea that Laken caught him staring at their face. A bit of their hair has fallen into their eyes and he wants to bury his hands in the thick, curly black hair that runs over the top and back, rub his fingers into the soft, short shaved hair at the sides, wants to-
Just wants, in formless ways that go no further than the idea of what he might feel if they held him, kissed him, were near him, legs intertwined, a subtle weight against his side.
The wants are good, but under them lingers the fear of what comes after the holding. When the weight is no longer subtle but heavy, when kissing isn’t enough for them, when they want him to perform. 
They wouldn’t call it that. That’s not what it’s called, out here. That he’ll lose himself again, and the next time maybe he won’t remember how to run from it first. He can’t be rescued every single time he gets in over his head, can he? He’s supposed to be able to do these things himself, now. 
It was less than a year of his life, lost, they think. Nat and Jake think so, anyway. 
How can less than a year of his life still hurt so much later?
“Chris?” Laken snaps their fingers in front of him and he blinks, sitting up in a sudden flinch backwards-
Pay attention, darlin’, you should always have eyes on your owner
-and catches himself just as fast, giving them a smile. “S-sorry, I, I was in my, my my-my head I guess. What, what did you say?”
-won’t repeat myself, you should have focused on me-
Laken pulls their hand back.
-what else is there for you to look at, hm?
Laken’s hand hesitates, as though they might want to reach forward instead of pulling back. He wants them to touch his face so badly and he doesn’t want to be touched at all. He wants both things. 
He wants to grab at them and hold on and say please tell me I can do this and he wants to say just walk away before you find out and the sentences are so jumbled together in his brain he can’t say either at all. 
The lights are making a sound, a sort of hum that he thinks Laken can’t hear but he can hear it and it drills into his ears, under the memory of Sir’s voice, slick and smooth, the sense-memory of a hand lying on the back of his neck, pressing soft leather into his spine.
Pay attention. I said-
“I said,” Laken says, softer this time, “that it’s your turn.” They hold out a fry, skinny twig potato, with only a hint of cheese sauce at one end. “Dip it in the shake, take a bite. I promise it’s amazing.”
Amazing. You really were worth every penny I paid, weren’t you?
 Chris is sure he sees uncertainty in their expression, but he’s not always good at knowing what the people around him are thinking. The subtler shifts of expression that don’t contain the threat of violence he was trained to prepare for sometimes mean nothing at all to him, and between the weight of their face at the front of him and the pressure of the fluorescent lights in the diner above and behind him, that buzzing noise that no one seems to hear but him, Chris wants to run.
Get up and run, like Kauri used to run, and that feels safer than what he’s trying to do here.
The train tracks of his thoughts are scattered, unsure. He wants to get up and walk out, go somewhere dark, and remind himself that people like him weren’t ever supposed to have moments like this.
You are a pet and you’ll never be anything but-
Chris sets his jaw and tries to remember that memories can’t grab you out of the light, the buzzing is just a sound - the lights are just cheaper than any other kind - and Laken’s hand is safer than the hand in his mind.
You’ll never be anything but-
This. He can be this, instead.
He takes the fry from Laken’s fingers, lets his brush theirs just a little for the rush of electricity along his nerves, the feeling of touching lightning, and dips his fry in the shake.
Then he pops it into his mouth, and his eyes widen at the sense of cold and hot, chocolate ice cream and fried potato, salt and sweet. He picks another fry up and tries it again.
Laken laughs, sitting back and clapping their hands, ducking their head slightly. “See! You like it! Didn’t I tell you?”
“You, you, you-you you did, you told me,” Chris smiles at them around the french fry still sticking out of his mouth, prompting another peal of laughter, catching the eyes of people in the other booths in the diner. Chris would sink into himself, except he realizes after a second that the older couple looking at them is smiling, watching Laken laugh.
So he starts to smile again, too.
“Great.” Laken picks up a long-handled spoon, dipping it into the whipped cream and picking the bright-red, fire-engine-colored cherry off the table. “You want my cherry?” They start to giggle, blushing themself, and Chris just blinks, not understanding this joke, either.
There are so many jokes he doesn’t understand but he smiles along with anyway.
“I’m kidding, I’m just-... sorry, being out with you makes me kind of nervous, and I’m just covering it by being ridiculous,” Laken says, sighing, eating the bite of whipped cream and the cherry themself. “I really am sorry, Chris.”
“You, um... you, you, you-you... you’re nervous?” Chris asks, voice low. That... he can’t have heard that right.
“Uh, yeah, of course I am. You’re fucking gorgeous and you dating me... it’s a lot. You know? You make me really nervous.” Laken hesitates, swirls their spoon around in their milkshake without looking up. “Like I’m going to fuck this up for sure.”
 “Me, um, me-me... me me me, me-... wait, my words, um-” Chris groans, reaching for the black bracelet he always wears on one wrist, pushing the little metal circles wound into the heavy nylon rope to focus on the press of an edge against his finger, the way they spin against his skin. “I’m... I’m nervous, too.”
“Are you?” Laken cocks their head, and there’s that hair again, falling over one eye. “Well, I guess we’re both nervous, so that cancels us out, right?”
Chris takes a breath, reaches out, and brushes the bit of hair from over their eye, watching Laken’s smile grow and change, become softer and warmer all at once, as they look up at him.
This look, he knows. The I want you look. He’s given himself, practiced and performed, with a smile that never reached his eyes. 
Laken’s eyes, though, are warm. He’ll fall in.
“I, I, I think I’m too weird for, um, for you,” Chris says, finally, hesitantly. 
Laken grabs his hand in theirs, twining fingers warm around his chillier ones, and kisses the back of his hand. “Not possible.”
“No, really-”
Laken shakes their head, pulling his hand to rest his knuckles against their cheek and his voice is caught in his throat, then. It’s lost somewhere in the look on Laken’s face. He can’t quite remember how words work, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have to. 
“No.” Laken says the word soft as can be. Chris thinks of the way it felt to pet the kitten when Ruth’s stray cat had a litter. “Really. You’re not too weird for me, Chris. I want this to be our first date, not... not the last one. Yeah?”
Chris breathes in and out. His hand is on fire with sparks from Laken’s touch.
He wants, all those things that feel safe. The holding, the kissing, the things that go no further. He has no idea how to ask.
“... right,” He says, finally. “First date, not, not, not-not last date.”
“Perfect.” Laken kisses the back of his hand and then gives it back to him, but he kind of hopes they’ll just keep his hand forever, it can be all theirs, whatever, just keep smiling like this and he’ll give them anything they want. “So. Next fry?”
They pick one up.
Chris picks a fry up, too.
They dip their fries into the milkshake in unison, and Chris can’t think of anything but how gorgeous Laken looks in the awful fluorescent light.
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starship-squidlet · 4 years
Note
Wordgame: Truth - Tryst
(Okay, so I’m not doing these in the order you sent them—I’m doing them in order of which I have an idea for 😂)
I decided to do this one in the Space Pirate AU I’m working on!!! It’s sort of a Newsies/Star Wars crossover, because I was too lazy to do full world-building for a whole galaxy, but all that’s coming from Star Wars is names of places/things/species/etc. Hope that makes sense.
Fandom: Newsies (and sort of Star Wars)
Word count: 1,441
(I’m also tagging @the-cowbi @fifty-for-the-racer @aggressive-bucky-barnes-stan because I know you guys were at least a little interested in the Space Pirate AU/Yo Ho Hero so I thought you might be interested in this!)
.*.*.*.*.*.
“Hey, JoJo! Where ya goin’?” Romeo dropped down from the crossbeam of the mast and cocked his head to the side, ears swiveling, one to face her, one turning towards some noise from the other end of the ship that only he could hear.
JoJo rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Just out,” she said, intentionally vague. She didn’t need anyone knowing her business, least of all Romeo, who quite possibly had the biggest mouth on the ship. “Even I need to get off the ship every now and then.”
“Aw, come on,” he whined. “Tell me the truth.”
“What makes you think that’s not it?” JoJo laughed. She brushed past him, the rainbow crest of feathers that ran from the bridge of her nose to the small of her back rippling. “Tell Spot I’ll be back well before we cast off if he asks.”
“You better be,” Romeo called after her. “He’ll leave without you!”
“Yeah, I know!”
JoJo pulled her hood up as she stepped off the gangplank and onto the crowded platform of the space dock. While the people around her were quite literally of all shapes, sizes, colors, and more, the kaleidoscope of brilliant colors of her feathers tended to draw a few stares. Onotorans weren’t common even in the Outer Rim, and they were currently in the Core. Most people around here had never even heard of her people, planet, or system. She didn’t want to draw unwanted attention.
The spaceport was fairly easy to navigate. She’d been there enough times that she knew her way to her destination. It was a small corner of an overgrown garden, hidden from the paths around it behind curtains of wild ivy and tall hedges in desperate need of a trim. JoJo glanced over her shoulder as she approached the garden. This part of the spaceport wasn’t as busy as the main roads, but, in the name of privacy, she didn’t particularly want to be seen.
When she was certain no-one was watching, she slipped a hand under the ivy and pulled it aside so that she could step in. As her eyes adjusted to the dimmer, green-tinted light, she smiled to herself. She wasn’t the first to arrive.
Sniper grinned as she stood. Her cloak had been pushed back behind her shoulders, her lekku resting against her chest to brush against her stomach. She reached out a hand towards JoJo to help her step up onto the small platform concealed by the ivy. JoJo accepted it, her own lavender skin turning a dull brown in the green light, while Sniper’s yellow skin wore a chartreuse hue. Sniper pulled her up and into a long, tight hug.
They stood there for several minutes before JoJo pulled away just long enough to press a kiss to the other woman’s lips. “Hi,” she giggled, resting her forehead against Sniper’s.
“Hi,” Sniper laughed. “Welcome back. How was the Mid Rim?”
“Boring,” JoJo rolled her eyes. She took a step back and slid her coat down and off, tossing it aside as she revealed the feathers on her forearms and back, all laid flat against her skin, as she was undeniably relaxed for the first time in weeks—since the last time she and Sniper had been able to meet for one of their trysts.
Sniper grinned and unclasped her cloak, tossing it on top of JoJo’s discarded jacket. They settled down on the moss-covered platform, staring up at what little of the sky was visible through the ivy-covered lattice over them. They chatted for a while, side by side, hands clasped. JoJo rested her head against Sniper’s shoulder, smiling at the familiarity of her scent. It was oil and spices and hints of fuel all at once, and they combined to smell like happiness. Like love. Like home. Sniper pulled her hand away and squirmed around to wrap her arm around JoJo’s shoulders, pulling her even closer.
“How much longer do you have?” Sniper murmured.
JoJo sighed and lifted her arm, shaking her wrist to get her timepiece to display. “Ten minutes before Spot starts to get angry. Thirty before he gets really angry.”
Sniper laughed. “Guess I’d better get ready to let you go again.”
JoJo groaned and rolled onto her side, slinging her arm over Sniper’s stomach and burying her face in her shoulder. “Do we have to?” she grumbled, voice muffled.
“Only if you want to keep your job.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“It’s a good job.”
“And I’m good at it. Everyone always needs a good navigator. I can find another job. One that doesn’t take me so far out from the Core.”
Sniper smiled to herself. “And you’d be miserable. You like exploring.”
“I love you.”
“Well, I love you enough to know that we’re both happier with you going out on your adventures. Because otherwise you’re miserable, and then I’m miserable because you’re miserable.”
JoJo laughed and pulled away into a sitting position. “I wouldn’t be miserable. I can’t be miserable with you around.”
Sniper rolled her eyes and sat up, slinging her legs over JoJo’s and pulling her down so that their foreheads rested against each other. “One of these days we’ll settle down together. Just… not yet.”
JoJo smiled and pulled her into another kiss. “Hopefully ‘one of these days’ isn’t too far off.”
“Hopefully.”
A few minutes later, they reluctantly separated and retrieved their outerwear. JoJo pulled on her coat and raised the hood again, while Sniper settled for wrapping her cloak loosely around her shoulders, lifting her lekku out from under it and letting them rest on top of the garment while she fiddled with the clasp. After a moment, JoJo pushed her hands aside and fastened the clasp for her. “Honestly,” she sighed. “A mechanic, and you can’t even get the clasp on your cloak fixed. How do you repair ships?”
Sniper laughed. “Sometimes I don’t even know that myself.”
They walked part of the way together before separating, JoJo for the dock where The Banner was waiting for her, and Sniper for the repair bays where she worked. “Let me know when you’re heading back for the Core,” Sniper whispered, leaning in to press one last kiss to JoJo’s cheek.
“I’ll call as soon as I can,” JoJo promised. “Maybe we’ll go to a big enough spaceport that I can find a holonet terminal.”
Sniper snorted. “Good luck with that.”
JoJo laughed and waved goodbye as they split apart. She took her time walking back to The Banner, even though—or maybe because—she knew it would annoy Spot.
Sure enough, the captain was waiting for her, arms crossed and ears back as he scowled down the gangplank at her. “You’re late.”
JoJo sighed. “Sorry, captain. Won’t happen again.”
Spot barked out a laugh. “Sure. I’ll buy that lie when pigs fly.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s somewhere in the galaxy where they do,” JoJo quipped, slipping past him. “Do we have our heading?”
“We do,” Spot said, falling in step beside her as they headed for the control board. “Coordinates are already set; just waiting for you to plot our course.”
JoJo nodded and took her place behind the navicomputer, running quickly through calculations and dialing the directions into the computer. “Ready when you are, captain!” she called once it was done.
Spot nodded, once, and went through the ignition sequence. The huge, barrel-shaped engines on the sides of the ship roared to life, the third on the keel following suit as they began to lift away from their berth. As they rose, the transparisteel walls that formed their protective atmosphere bubble unfolded and rose, meeting at the top of the mast. The shimmer of the outer shield was only seconds behind the dome, tinging the view with the palest of blues.
Finch, Specs, Romeo, and Skittery were perched in their positions in the rigging, hair and fur and feathers fluttering in the “wind” generated by the moving currents of recycled air that filled the ship with atmosphere. The last three occupants of the ship stood behind JoJo and Spot: Katherine and Charlie, “princess” and “prince”, respectively, of their illustrious father’s semi-legitimate shipping empire, and Davey, their magic-wielding babysitter, for lack of a better term.
“Loose the rigging!” Spot called, and the boys up the masts scurried to follow the order. In seconds, the massive solar sails that collected power for the ship were unfurled, billowing outwards towards the closest source of ultraviolet light.
JoJo smiled to herself. I may not want to admit it, but Sniper’s right. This is where I belong right now. This is where I want to be.
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