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aenaxes · 3 years

Note

OMG ok for the 200 follower celebration (based on your smoking post) PLZZZ write sharing a spice blunt with cross or any batcher of your choosing I would simply die 😩💅🏻❤️

vapor trails

[crosshair & hunter x f!reader] you don't really run with the fett twins' crowd, but you find yourself at one of their parties anyway (in reference to this post lol)

warnings: college!au, recreational drug use, suggestive themes, but consent is sexy & mandatory & sober babes

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: anon, you ask for one batcher, but why not two? thank you for enabling me nonnie & @mallr4ts lol (im so sorry to all the previous requests for the event, this one has just been needling in my brain all day and i had to get it out hsdfs)

event details here! requests are open until july 4th!

You don’t know much about the Fett twins.

They’re something like campus legends even though they’re only a year your senior and at the tail end of their fourth years. But as much as you’ve heard their names slung around in weekend plans and excited chatter, you’ve never once met them, much less seen them yourself. Between idling class whispers and dining hall conversations, all you can piece together from the rumors is that: one, they’re from a big family (you’ve heard anywhere from two to twelve other brothers, yikes); and two, as much as they work hard (because the venture capital and pre-professorial tracks seem rigorous enough), they play even harder.

It helps that they apparently own one of the biggest apartments off campus, one in which you find yourself hopelessly and miserably lost. And overdressed.

Great.

It hadn’t occurred to you that your roommate, who is nowhere to be seen, had been dressing up for her girlfriend, and that most people who had half a mind would wear something comfortable that could withstand a few spilled drinks and ash. So seeing the rest of the room in rumpled tees and sweats has you and your little black dress seeking out the nearest wall as you fiddle with your questionably sweet cup of margarita mixer.

You feel like a first year, and it sucks.

But for once, with everyone too busy mingling amongst themselves over the heavy thrum of some mumble rap beat, you manage to slip by unnoticed.

Every now and then, you dart your eyes around the ever shifting landscape of faces in the dim room, looking for even the vaguest familiarity that might let you feign being tipsy and join a group for the night. But every time you try, there’s no luck.

Fuck, you haven’t even seen anyone here before.

But there might be a god watching out for you yet when the crowd shifts just enough that you catch sight of the couch, and on it, someone you suspect to be one of the twins as he greets a few girls with a disinterested nod.

Emboldened, but mostly nervous that in the crowd of bodies and red solo cups you’re still helplessly alone, you push off the wall and squeeze past huddled cliques of conversation to make for the dark couch.

By the platinum bleached hair and big-name consulting group quarter zip, Crosshair—at least you think it’s him—lounges over the couch. He isn’t the only body on the suede seats, but he keeps to himself, his head dipped low as he works one hand over a small metal canister in his other palm.

If you weren’t having luck with the other nameless faces around you, maybe the Fett twin would keep you company—at least until your roommate came back to find you (if she did). And worst case, you’d just slink back to your dorm and mope until your roommate apologized to you with your favorite overpriced smoothie bowl the day after.

Mustering every ounce of courage you have, you plant your feet by the couch and finally speak.

"Is your name actually Crosshair?" you ask.

The man on the couch pauses, his motions stilling over the small metal cylinder in his palms, and he lifts his chin just enough to flick his eyes up towards the sound of your voice.

You always thought the girls in your droning 9AM gen-ed were wildly exaggerating his hype for their own devices, squealing over his (apparently) brooding charm and sharp looks to nip at his stash for free. But for all the vague haze surrounding your perception of the twins, you never thought that they were telling the truth.

If you had been in broad daylight under the incandescent glow of your creaky lecture hall lights, you might have called him cocky, almost haughty, how he meets you with an unreadable look for having interrupted him. But in the purple LEDs and heavy haze of vape juice and shitty tequila, he’s captivating, all dark eyes and perfectly lit skin, marked only by the needle-thin design tattooed over the right side of his face and a worn wooden toothpick bitten between his teeth.

You swallow down the dry lump in your throat when you catch him flick his eyes from your face, down the short length of your dress, and back up again.

"Smoke with me; maybe you'll find out," he drawls, toothpick bobbing as he speaks. He twists the cylinder once and offers you a wry smirk. And when you stay, speechless but there all the same, Crosshair scoots to the side and pats the narrow space between him and the couch arm, inviting you close.

"I've never smoked before," you admit a bit shyly as you drop down beside him. Your dress hikes up your thigh, and you shiver when your skin presses up against the soft denim of his jeans.

"Not even cigs?"

You shake your head. And you tell yourself that when he leans close and brushes his shoulder up against your arm, that he’s only doing it because someone’s boosted the bass, and you can’t hear him over the reverb.

"Well, good thing I'm here, yeah?"

He gives the metal canister a final twist and sets it down on the coffee table before you. Swapping the canister for a small brown sleeve, you watch in a daze as he pulls a semi-transparent leaflet from the folder and tears a strip of cardstock straight from its flap. He has pianist fingers, you think wistfully, neatly kept nails and slender grace, and you wonder if he’ll entertain you if you ask to compare your hand to his.

“What’s your name?”

You scrabble back to the present at the sound of his voice. “Uh, y/n,” you offer.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a soft laugh, having caught on to your daydreaming. “Step one, you fold your filter.”

You nod along absently as Crosshair artfully crimps the thick paper into a neat roll. As if there isn’t thirty-some odd people crammed into his apartment, he quietly takes you step by step, offering you the filter, the paper, then the contents of the canister (a grinder, he explains) like it’s a game of show and tell. But with every piece he places into your hands, you gravitate closer, closer, until you’re flush against his arm and practically hanging over his side to watch as he gently taps a line of bud over the paper.

“Here, let me give you a better look,” Crosshair says.

You expect him to bring the neat line of bud to you, but when nothing comes, you look up and find him waiting for you, one arm open in invitation as the other pats once on the dark denim of his thigh.

“Uh—”

“Sit,” he says as if you haven’t just met him fifteen minutes ago. “Front row seats if you want ‘em.”

On one hand, you barely know Crosshair outside of the rumors you hear on campus. On the other hand, he’s a genuinely pleasant person, careful to accommodate for your boundaries and offering a snide playfulness that’s banished your nerves from earlier in the night.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“Okay,” you murmur, and you let him wrap his arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap. And he’s right. Perched over his thighs, you see with perfect clarity (and without the strain in your neck) as he gently folds the paper over the mound of bud and carefully twists. It’s the prettiest joint you’ve ever seen—though it might be because it’s the only one you’ve seen.

"Final touch," Crosshair's voice rumbles over your back, shooting straight into your core as he lifts the paper's vellum edge to your lips. “Lick it for me.”

Since you sat down with him, you’ve only been the passenger, nodding along as Crosshair’s long, nimble fingers creased over filter paper and patiently pointed out things like the stray pistils in his baggie and the keef gathered at the bottom of his grinder for if you really want to get fucked up. And even though you aren’t doing much (because licking paper doesn’t really seem too crazy), it’s a step forward from the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you, and you twist around in his lap to shoot him an uncertain glance.

“Just,” Crosshair flicks his tongue over his lower lip, flashing a brief glimpse of a ball piercing towards your wide eyes. And if you weren’t so flustered, you might have recognized the coy playfulness in his gaze. “Give it a lick, right over the edge.”

“I—uh, what if I—” you stammer.

“You’re not gonna mess this up, darling,” Crosshair chuckles. If his hand squeezing brief over your waist wasn’t enough to bring heat searing over the tops of your ears, his next words, crooned low and breathy into your ear, certainly do. “You’re a smart girl. You can do it.”

"My brother giving you trouble?"

Another voice cuts through the din of the party, sparing you your stammering nerves as you whip your head up in its general direction. You’re greeted with the sight of his brother, peering down on you as he takes a sip from his cup.

“You’re such a killjoy,” Crosshair mutters, drawing his arm tighter around your waist as he jabs the half-rolled joint to where Hunter sprawls down onto the couch beside him. “No, I’m not being a creep. I’m teaching our pretty underclassman here how to roll.”

Oh.

Heat rushes over your cheeks, and you can’t decide whether you want to shrink into yourself or bask in it and beg for more.

He called you pretty.

“With her in your lap,” Hunter snorts into his cup.

“It was your idea to invite your entire fucking rugby team. Where else would we do it?”

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Hunter laughs, tilting his head and looking up at you through his (unfairly) long lashes. Where you thought Crosshair’s tattoo was bold, Hunter’s practically blows him out of the water, a well-worn swath of ink on the left half of his face, curving into neatly stylized teeth right at the edge of his lips. “I’m Hunter.”

Huh, maybe you do have a thing for tattoos.

“Y/n,” you squeak. “It’s, um—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he says as he offers you an easy smile. “Has my baby brother been treating you right?”

“God, two fucking minutes,” Crosshair snaps. You hear the embarrassment seeping from the vitriol, and it strikes you like a shot to the head that he’s trying to play cool in front of you. “I come out two minutes after you and—”

“We’re fraternal, and I got all the oxygen in the womb. Explains why he has awful people skills,” Hunter fake-whispers loud enough for Crosshair to hear, and you giggle as the other man groans from behind you.

“No, he’s been really nice,” you say softly once you realize that you’ve been laughing a little too loud. “He’s teaching me about weed.” It sounds juvenile when you say it, awkward and clumsy on your tongue. It’s a dead giveaway that has Hunter’s smile mellowing into something soft.

“Your first time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, Cross here’s high as shit at least four hours every day. Says it helps him do the math. I hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”

“You try running a nonlinear regression sober,” Crosshair snorts. “Anyways, we were just finishing up this joint before you decided to kill the vibe.”

Crosshair lifts the half-rolled joint back up to your chin, and this time, he leans forward and presses his chest close against your back as the playful snark leaves his tone, in its wake, something patient and calm as his voice rumbles by your ear.

“You gonna help me finish the job, sweet girl?”

You surprise yourself when the initial trepidation vanishes as you tip your chin down and stick out your tongue. Maybe you’re showboating now that you have an audience, feeling Hunter’s dark eyes on your lips when you touch the tip of your tongue out over the edge.

Whether it’s your lip gloss or the fine crumbs of bud stuck to the roll paper that fills your mouth with something earthy and sweet, you can’t say. All you know is they’re both following you with that intense intent, the bass and blend of voices faded out around you; just you in Crosshair’s lap and Hunter pretending to care about the drink in his hand as you lift your tongue off the far corner of the paper and close your lips.

“Good job,” Hunter muses, and you’re pretty certain he’s not talking about the joint when you feel his gaze boring into you alone.

The smell of smoke pulls you out of Hunter’s gravity, and you look back in front of you to see Crosshair snap a scuffed metal lighter shut and toss it onto the coffee table. He brings the joint back down in front of you, blowing a neat stream of whitish gray smoke past your ear.

“You know how to pull?” Crosshair asks, and his chin brushes over your bare shoulder as he speaks. He’s so close. You can smell the burn, acrid and sour, but it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t smell like some bubblegum vape when you feel his breaths curling over your skin. You just want more.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Mm, you know how to shotgun?” Hunter offers, and you hear Crosshair huff laugher from behind you. “Might be easier for your first try.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s,” Hunter pauses, and his brows knit close as he thinks for a moment. “It’s kind of like a kiss. But not really. I take a hit and you catch my smoke. That sound okay?”

You don’t think it matters that someone’s hit shuffle on the playlist, filling the room with a hard electronic beat that might have otherwise drowned out all sound. All you hear is your heart pounding in your ears as you nod and watch Hunter lift the filter to his lips and inhale deep, then pass the joint back to Crosshair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, white trails of smoke curling over his upper lip as he lifts one hand to cup over the base of your neck.

“Open,” Crosshair whispers.

Wordlessly, you obey. Your lips part just as Hunter pulls close, so close you feel the heat of his skin spreading warm over your cheeks, and blows a soft stream of bitter smoke into your mouth. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but all the while, you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his.

“Breathe in, deep,” you hear Crosshair instruct as he begins to rub one thumb over the curve of your hip.

The smoke is thick, sluicing down your throat and filling your lungs like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not bad, just new, and pressed between the twins over the couch, you think it just might have been worth being ditched by your roommate earlier in the night. But your lungs ache, and you slowly exhale, watching as your vision fogs with a loose cloud of smoke until your chest feels clear again.

“And you didn’t even cough,” Hunter smiles. His calloused fingertips follow the slope of your neck, lingering one moment more before he pulls away. And you aren’t sure if the low buzzing in your fingertips is the weed or their combined warmth as Hunter rubs over your knee and Crosshair leans his head against your neck. “Good girl.”

“Wanna do it again,” you whisper as the buzz begins to crawl up your neck, fizzling around your temples as you lean your cheek over where Crosshair nuzzles into your shoulder.

“With him or me?” Crosshair murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin.

“You,” you say dreamily, and Hunter laughs, a sound that suddenly seems so far away as you tip your head and press close against Crosshair’s silver hair.

Crosshair leans into your touch, pressing his cheek up against your neck one last time before he’s lifting his head and bringing the joint to his lips. You hear the hiss of his inhale, smoke curling up through the narrow body of the joint as the charred end glows warm beside you.

And instead of Hunter’s approach, level with you, Crosshair looms above you, meeting your wide eyes with something of a fond smile. Dragging his hand up your chest, he follows the line of your neck and holds snug over your chin. He squeezes softly, and your jaw falls slack, lips parted in a soft ‘o’ as he dips low. He's closer than Hunter as you feel his mouth just brush over yours and breathe smoke over your tongue.

This time, it’s easier.

You swallow down the smoke and hold, just a beat longer than before. But both Crosshair and Hunter notice as your lips stay parted, and they share a soft laugh that has you exhaling smoke and pride all at once when you finally relax your diaphragm and breathe out.

“Fast learner,” Crosshair muses, nosing up under your jaw as you sink back against his chest.

You mumble incoherently, chasing his touch as the high creeps heavy and warm from your chest to your collar and settles at the back of your throat. It anchors you, molding you up against Crosshair who feels nothing short of perfect as he circles his arms loose over your waist.

You turn your head to thank Hunter when you distantly register him pressing a cool cup into your hand (water, you think you hear him say), but the words slip back down into your throat, your eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy and coarse over your blurry vision.

“You wanna lay down?” Hunter offers, and his voice comes to you like you’re underwater, warped and bubbling past the din of the party around you.

You're pretty sure you nod.

For a few moments, you catch traces of an unintelligible exchange between the twins, only aware of the rumble of Crosshair’s voice at your back, and then you’re being lifted up off the couch, the music and raucous laughter fading behind you.

A door opens, squeaking half-shut, and you wince as a light clicks on beside you. Whoever was carrying you sets you down on something soft and cool, and you sway as the light dims and you settle into your seat.

You’re on a bed, you think.

Crosshair’s, judging by the shock of light hair that you can make out through your lashes. He helps you into a worn tee that reaches past the short hem of your dress, and you wiggle into it with a soft whine, holding it tight.

But where you expect a familiar weight to dip down next to you and pull you close, your eyes fly open when you see his figure turn away from you and towards the neon lights of the party outside.

“You aren’t staying?” It's the most coherent you've been through your first high.

“Not tonight,” Crosshair says softly. He turns back towards you and reaches up to fix the strap of your dress as you sit on his bed. “Baby’s first tokes got you all dopey. Right now, what you need is this,” and he presses a plastic bottle of vitamin water he’s seemingly produced out of nowhere into your palm. “This,” he adds, pressing your phone into your other hand. “And a good night’s sleep.”

“And what if I say I need you, too?” you pout.

Some part of you—the conscious part locked away in the back of your skull—bangs up against the hazy high at the crown of your head because when you’re good and sober and when Crosshair inevitably turns you down, you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for the next semester.

But he breaks into a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s just a split-second of warm, chapstick-soft lips on your skin, but it floods you with an indescribable good from the top of your head all the way down to your toes.

And as high as you are right now, you have a hell of a hunch that the flutter in your chest is going to stay, even when the room stops wobbling around you.

“When you’re all sobered up in the morning, we’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Crosshair says after he’s pulled back, reaching up to smooth his palm over your hair. “Sound like a plan?”

You nod, probably with a little too much enthusiasm, but you’re rewarded with another low chuckle that’s practically music to your ears. His hand gentle and firm over your shoulder, Crosshair guides you down onto the bed and pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Now text your roomie so she doesn’t call the cops on us, get some sleep, and drink all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond.

“Good girl.”

And when the lights click out, you curl into Crosshair’s pillow, breathing in cold, fresh notes of his cologne, and then you’re asleep.

You climb out of bed the next morning, your minidress rumpled under a long shirt. It's not like a hangover, no, you just find yourself a bit lightheaded and throat parched, and the disorientation makes your head spin as you’re greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and something savory—

Your roommate doesn’t wake up earlier than you, and she can’t cook for shit. And why were your sheets grey? Whose shirt were you—

Oh.

Fuck.

You practically burst out of Crosshair’s bedroom, and you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you hadn’t expected to see Hunter sipping mildly on a mug of coffee while Crosshair pushes something around in a pan over their kitchen range.

“Mornin,’” Hunter offers you a small wave, and reaches for a third mug on the countertop. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee so we just made it black.”

“What happened last night?” you gasp. If you weren’t so panicked, you’re certain the sight of them sporting nothing but grey sweats would have been your only concern, but you’ve just woken up with foggy memories and the slimy dread of anxiety that follows a blackout night.

“Easy, easy,” Crosshair assures you as he steps away from the stovetop. “Nothing happened after we smoked. You took, like, two hits, and you were so hazy you couldn’t remember your dorm number, so we put you to bed, and I slept out in the living room. Fetts are wild but we’re not scumbags, promise.”

And judging from the throw blanket sliding off the edge of the couch cushions, you’re fairly certain you can believe him. Relief floods your chest.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, and your shoulders sag as the weight of panic sloughs off your back.

They both laugh softly, the sudden tension lifting from the bright morning light, and you can’t help but join in. And when that rosy relief gives way to silence again, it’s Crosshair who speaks next.

“So, you staying for breakfast?”

“Can I borrow some actual clothes first?”

“Done deal.”

#fun fact: my signature party trick is flirting with a guy and then stealing his blunt ✌️😗#thinking about how schlorbe n i agreed crosshair listens to souncloud mumble rap :/#its ok i kiss him anyways #hc that crosshair’s an econ/finance bro and hunter’s a history major hehe #sequel series: crosshair goes venture capital (gross)#tech's probably at like the space equivalent of mit or something #and i will Die on the hill that wrecker's super smart with kinesiology #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #anon #yaej.writes

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pepper-up-potion · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5: Honey (Sirius Black x Fem!reader)

Summary: Sirius is once again your date to a family event, this one brings many revelations.

Warnings: angst, arguments, mentions of family pressures, mention of food, mention of sex (it’s brought up in a conversation), social gatherings, pleaseeeee let me know if I missed any.

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: Oh me oh my, I really hope you like this one. Click this “Charming Pureblooded Boyfriend” link to access the other chapters.

Sirius and you start to regularly send owls to each other. Mostly to check in on each other, share any family news (for the purpose of fake dating of course). Sirius sometimes comes to pick you up at your house to keep up the act. Sometimes you end up hanging out, other times you just part ways as soon as you turn the street corner. So far it’s working, your mother hasn’t tried to set you up with anyone in almost a month.

***

It’s been a month and two weeks that you’ve been pretending to date when you ask Sirius, for a second time, to attend one of your family events. This one is smaller and much more personal. Your mother has invited three families for a dinner party. She insisted you bring Sirius, promising it’s to have an even number of people at the table but you guess it’s to show off how “picture perfect” her family is.

Sirius’ suit is similar to the last. This one is a silky dark purple pant and blazer with a black button down shirt and a black tie. The colour suits him. It works perfectly with his dark hair which he styled less than last time, letting the strand move more. He tucks them behind his ears whenever they start to cover too much of his face. You watch him, a little mesmerized. You’ve got to admit to yourself, you’ve got a beautiful fake boyfriend.

You and Sirius are sitting next to each other at the table, participating in different conversations. Sometimes the table is engaged in a whole discussion, sometimes the guests split into little groups to have more private conversations. All in all, it’s going well. You and Sirius plaster your fake smiles and trained politeness as you discuss superficial subjects: school, work, family…

“(Y/n) dear, is it hard being at different universities?” Someone asks from across the table. The woman speaks loudly enough for all to hear. The dispersed conversations go quiet as all attention turns to you. Compared to your last family event, you're in the flow. You’re confidently in your element. You are more than ready to answer this question.

“Of course I would like to walk across campus with him and have coffee dates in between classes but I think it’s for the best. It allows us to focus on our studies when we are at school. I always tell myself the more schoolwork I get done on campus, the more free time I have to see him outside of those hours. Isn’t that right honey?” You turn to Sirius just in time to see his smile falter.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He grits. It’s subtle, most people probably didn’t notice the harshness in his voice.

Your theory is confirmed when the table erupts with awes and “Ah young love.” but you keep your focus on the sweat building on Sirius’ forehead. Did you say something wrong?”

***

You and Sirius help clear the table after the main course. You drag him up to your room as soon as Sirius places the plates on your kitchen counter.

“Honey? What the hell was that?” Spits Sirius. You’re honestly grateful he addressed the issue right off the bat.

“I was trying to be convincing. Something that you could try a little harder to do too.” You huff crossing your arms. His reaction to the nickname could have blown your whole story. You’re the one who should be angry.

“Oh so you don’t think I’m doing a good job?” He rolls his eyes. “Am I not living up to your high expectations of a perfect charming pureblood boyfriend?” He sounds more sarcastic than truly offended. The words still sting a little. Does he think you just see him as a job? As a pawn in your evil plot against your family? Does he not see how grateful you are for him? Does he not realize how much stress he’s taken off your shoulders? Does he not know how free he makes you feel?

You inhale sharply before releasing the breath as slowly as possible, trying to detangle the mix of emotions you’re feeling.

“That’s not what I meant.” You speak slowly, trying to keep your voice as normal and emotionless as possible.

“I just want it to seem as convincing as possible. I don’t want this to end. It’s working so well so far. I just get scared it’ll all fall apart if we aren’t careful.” The words flow through you with more calm than you expected. You’re quite impressed with it. After an answer like that you don’t see how Sirius could take much offense. You’re talking about your concerns rather than blaming him for anything.

“We’ll I’m sorry- '' His voice is so hoarse, it almost sounds like a growl. You bring a hand to your chest as your heart jumps a little from the startling response. You have to focus to tune back into what he’s saying. “I’ve never been in a relationship before. I don’t know how any of this works. I don’t know what pet names to use, I don’t know when it’s appropriate to hold your hand, I don’t know when I’m supposed to compliment you and I just- I don’t know what to do.” He cuts off his rant with a deflated tone.

“You’ve never been in a relationship before?” You blurt, taking a step back, stunned.

Silence. Sirius bows his head, breaking eye contact.

“I just thought, you know, since everyone swoons over you and you’re always sleeping around and all.” You cut yourself off not wanting him to take offence.

Sirius looks at you again. “Sure I know how to do a one night stand-” You sigh, relieved he understood you didn't mean to harm with your last comment. “but I don’t know how to date someone, I don’t know how to love someone. How am I supposed to woo your parents if I don’t even know how to woo you.”

The room falls quiet. The confession feels so vulnerable and secretive. You stare at Sirius, lips a little parted. Sirius blushes, and drops his gaze to the ground, embarrassed. So this is what’s bothering him. He’s just as scared of this falling apart but for entirely different reasons. While you worry about having to face your parents’ wrath if they find out you’re lying, he’s worried he’ll let you down. You feel a pit of shame in your stomach and a sudden urge to wrap him in a hug, and tell him how sorry you are, how inconsiderate you’ve been. The desire to comfort him fills you with fear. You cannot form a strong attachment with him. You need to focus on the real goal. Maybe he was right, this is a job. This is strictly business.

“We’ll you’re not missing out, relationships are nothing but lies and deceit.” You aloof abruptly swerving away from the topic.

There’s another silent pause. Sirius slowly draws his gaze back to you. There’s something about his eyes being so soft that makes your stomach tighten. “I don’t think you really mean that.”

The room falls silent one last time. The knot in your stomach doubles over. You suddenly become conscious of the size of the room. It almost feels like it’s closing in on you. You’re starting to find it hard to breathe. Before realizing what you’re doing, you’re opening the door to your room and heading straight for the dining room table.

You struggle into your seat, the picture of Sirius’ soft gaze in your mind’s eye. How you wish you could know what he was thinking at that moment.

***

A couple minutes later, Sirius settles in the seat next to you, excusing his absence. You anxiously bounce your knee, replaying the exchange in your head. Has he really never been in a relationship? Does he really think he’s incapable of wooing you or your parents? So far he has done nothing but that. Did you make him uncomfortable somehow? Did you make him angry? Was this all a mistake? Should you not have put this heavy burden on him? Did you really say something as petty as “relationships are nothing but lies and deceit.”?

Suddenly a hand settles on your bouncing knee. You snap your head to Sirius who’s quietly eating his dessert. The lady next to him asks him a question and he turns his head to answer her. He doesn’t remove his hand though. You think this might be his way of telling you he’s not mad. Telling you that you don’t actually need to worry. Telling you that whatever you both said in the room stays in the past.

You place your hand over his and squeeze it tightly. He’s the best fake boyfriend you could ever ask for.

General taglist: @pottahishotasf, @cupids-crystals, @oliverwoodmarrymepls, @mwahforpeter

“Charming Pureblooded Boyfriend” taglist: @iamabeautifulperson18, @my-belooveded, @youcantbesirius, @whattheforks, @hogwarts-1d-drarry-stan, @pinkcloxds, @gabitanaka47 (sorry you don’t show up in my tag options. Maybe try checking your visibility!)

#sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius imagine #sirius x you #sirius x y/n

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

Harry Styles x Barista!Reader.

Smut, pain kink and over-stimulation.

Mentions of past trauma and healing!

MASTERLIST, LETS TALK LOVIES!

Author's note: Your reblogs and appreciations means alot to me, token me a smile with your love.

His breath smells of strawberries and coffee, plushie lips dangerously close to her's making her half voracious gaze flicker between his lips and up at Tofu, kiss him kiss him you bloody fool, reeled in her head, "here lemme . . ." He notices her jitteriness fetching the birdy for her. She hiccups with a suck of breath when his knuckles brushed the inside of her palms while giving Tofu to her.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

Y/N has a phobia for needles and Harry's her damsel in distress.

Something about bungalows not having stairs makes Y/N's cheeks puffs out in disappointing amazement. The fact she couldn't even climb at the rooftop when the summer sky's ornamented with cosmic stars twinkling with the each buzz of music from inside. She hiccups a giggle when the cool zephyr blew her frock away giving out a glimpse of her itty-bitties, glad no-one's in the diameter to have a show. The discernment falls to nothingness when she hears distinct rustle of someone behind the fat‐very-rooty-tree, it widens her eyes into saucers as she blinks comically.

It's not a squirrel she could tell. Couldn't be Ronny who went to take a wee cause all the darn washrooms inside were occupied and his bladder being the weakest, he went for a bush.

But, that bush's behind her and for a moment she forgot her friend even existed since she muted out his piss taking whistle a while ago.

All her frenzied assumptions fails when two figures camouflaged in the darkness tumbles from behind the tree. Her cheeks splashes with burning crimson when they separate with a loud, wet kissing noise and the two men doesn't seem any shy about it unlike Y/N who's foozling the frill of her dress as if she got caught in the middle of a fuck in public loo. Not that, it everrr happened with her, still she has an example set for such incidents.

"Oh, hi." The warble of unprevious voice wins in gaining her attention and she tries to squint through the pocosin of his eyes which glimmers under moonlight if she glances away too quick, she startles in her spot when a gruff voice speaks over them, "Ronny couldn't even occupy a shot of vodka in his bladder." She couldn't seem to flit her gaze away from his cherry of lips glistening from whatever activities they were having before (the only features she could see in such illumination) as the other guy and Ronny bantered off passing a cig in between them.

"Oi, shut up will ya." Ronny locks his arm with Y/N and she flinches that he hasn't even washed them yet, "c'mon truffles we don't wanna be here." He announces dragging her away and the humid air around them bubbled with chuckles.

"Huh." She quips all lost between the interaction and accidentally bumping into two beautiful men kissing eachother, she's totally jealous! Poor thing tries to jerk the mud from her toes and to have a last glimpse of the man with marble irirses.

"D'ya think I've a chance with that daddy-long- legs-one? Dunno, but he intimidates me so bad." Ronny whispers to her and she frowns sniffing with her already runny nose from being a bit tipsy, it's making her bouncy little by little and she knows the bevvys she had will have a full swing within the night, "why? He seems nice."

"His hotness truffles, it intimidates me." He scrapes his already chipped nail polish after washing his hands from the basin throwing towel at her face, she just sighs putting it back in the rack.

"How about you talk to him first." Parties has teeny perks of them and gigantic disadvantages 1) Ronny gets a school crush at every boy he looks at. 2) They get more sweaty, stinky, gluey and more wilder till the clock hits 4 am. Honestly, even if it wasn't for the free bevys she would have never stepped in.

"That's the hard part." They push people aside like stuffies getting cursed and groped in return.

"He's not gonna know himself, Ron, you dump-stick." Good she doesn't need to yell like before as the music has dimmed to a hum possibly about to shut down within minutes. Halting, beside some people crowded alongside the couch some sitting on it and their confused heads shots up at first at the sound of familiar vibrations.

The worst scenarios of someone having a bullet up in their hole and peeps around having a show passes for a mere sec in their heads, together, that's why they're friends since the first semester of UNI.

But, upon seeing what's the ruckus about Ronny shakes his head in utmost panic, "oh no . ." He tries to escape from her grip but she tugs him from collar, "Please Ronny, swear 'm ready to over come my fear! Nothing's gonna happen to me." They stand beside the guy sheepishly (like two elementary kids deciding who'll step inside the staff room first) a gun perched in his hand and Y/N realizes that he indeed's the same guy she met outside, this time she could see him properly and those hickorey of curls brushing the eternity of his popping clavicles.

His back to them but she could see the flex of his muscles from under the sheer black of his shirt with the each movement he does with his gun, she admits that he got prettier back than her.

"Ey Harry this's my friend Y/N and she wanna overcome her phobia of needles, be a damsel in distress pal." So, they know eachother. The whizz of gun stops midway and he dismisses the drunk dude under him tilting his chin to meet her eyes, and it was worth it as it took tiny gasp from her.

He's way beautiful than he was in the darkness.

Ronny was right. It daunts her a bit. The name Harry itself is some kind of royalty.

"Oh, hi there, again." He greets her with a warm smile and it glitter-glittery her insides, will you please not she scolds herself. It's probably the alchol her subconscious assures her but her nervousness from the idea of really doing this says otherwise.

"Have a seat, love." Oh holy goodness. He's as sober as judge and she at whole is miffed.

Harry isn't a popular senior. No. His charm's something that woos everyone and his name's always on the top list of invites, he avoids them though unless it's his closest friend. Him remaining to himself has casted a spell on everyone that his personality's intimidating and he's this sex god who has an only concern with fucking people.

He could be called a nerd from his grades everytime being higher than last semester but his attire and being a shining star of the Christmas tree gives it away.

Everyone likes him, ah-ah no everyone absolutely loves him. The thing's he has never felt the same in his twenty-one years of life and that's a fat bummer.

He just gives that "please stay away from me" aura, brows always sewn together and bottom lip jutted makes him appear rather passive aggressive to strangers (well the people who knows him loves him for being the most chill person walking around them).

Right now, he got a tat gun in his hand and everyone's getting a drunk tattoo for the remembrance of this stupid party or just that they've a kink for pain, possibly for humiliation too because what could a tattoo gotten in an unconscious state could bring you?

"Y'alright there?" He asks her and she bobs her head clamping her hands shut in her lap. The rainbow broch on his loafers intrigues her about his fashion senses, it makes her jealous she can't afford to have her own style, "Yeah!" She avoids to even give a spare glance to the gun in his hand because she knows the moment she'd, it will make her dizzy.

She feels bad for cliff hanging him to herself only but he doesn't seem to mind at all. Waits patiently for her to guard herself as Ronny pats her back like she's about to summo wrestle.

"Want me to start it?" He knows how bad it's for some people. Many times he had an encounter with weak hearted persons who got dragged into his parlour by their friends and ended up running away, "Can you give me a moment?" She lifts her head towards him and it makes his forehead knit into concerned lines.

The poor bug's giving a purple face as if she's about to throw up and her ears pink.

"Take all y'want, darlin'." His gentleness flows over her head, she thinks that the music has died or she has gone deaf, can't be neither, cause no-way that such a sweet call wouldn't make her toes all gooey.

"'M ready!" She puffs out a huge exhale moving her shaking wrist nearer to his grasp and he gives her a comforting look before wrapping his fingers one by one around her delicate wrist, skidding the stool he's been sitting on closer to her, "al'ight truffles 'ere we go — wouldn't hurt promise." He decides to stick with truffles since Ronny calls her with the nickname everytime he's at Harry's. Thought his blabbers of his friend were exaggerated coating of sugar but when she's sitting infront of him with those glinting eyes and soft flesh in which his lanky fingers seems to turn pudgy, he gets it why he calls her that.

He keeps on glancing up at her to see if she's okay — she has her hand placed atop Ronny's thigh while he distracts her with his "let's throw shade at mean bitches together" game and Harry just hovered the nib of it over her skin when she passed out but Ronny quickly placed his palm against her cheek to pull her back towards his shoulder.

"'M good . ." She comes back from it with a weak whsiper-y voice trying to straighten up but the instant her already blurry vision falls at the needle again making a line so small it isn't even visible she passes out again and this time Ronny seems unfazed talking to a girl beside him (trust the lad they've done it multiple times but the pain and fear of needles never let her have a single tattoo inked on her skin), leaving Harry to sweat over her.

Sighing he shuts down the machine putting it aside and presses the back of his hand against her forehead --- to be more appropriate, and when she remains as if in the land of nod completely knackered out and woolly in Ronny's arms he realizes that she has passed out for real.

"Truffles?" He doesn't get a response from her.

She puffers out her lips blowing raspberries gazing at the sunny sky from the clear glazed window of the shop, chin resting in the softness of her palm as the cosy hall of it emptied from the rush the time it striked noon. The start of her shift's always effete and warm with honey-bees buzzing over the pots of pastel flowers outside, but the evenings are most tiresome and she has to do the closing in a grumpy mood.

"Can you pass me the icing tube, forgot it under the counter shelf 'cos of that pain in ass customer." He's their regular. Has constant complaints that their tarts are too sugary and they need to thicken the formula for their lattes, Y/N just bobs her head at his tantrums finding a way to shoo him away with a promise of next time, "yeah uhh — " Gripping the edge of marble counter she squats down and giggles at herself as she looks funny with her knees making a tent of her ruffle frock.

The door-bell chimes indicating the presence of someone but she goes for her rampage knowing Cora's there to attend them and she was about to pull her head back when she hit it quite painfully against the upper shelf, "Ow!!" She squeaks rubbing the sore spot stabling herself while Cora chuckled taking the tube from her hand to go inside.

She never expected someone to occur at this hour, moreso, she never expected someone like him to pop out of nowhere at their shop. He just doesn't seem like a person to have a merry making at little cosy cafés all to himself, it's been driving her crazy, she cringes at herself everytime when the humiliation of passing out infront of him invades her thoughts.

Half of her heart wanted to see him again and other half was glad she never bumped in him — but seems like nature was evily against her.

"Oops hi!" When she couldn't fiddle with anything she adjusts her frilly apron and with her wrist brushes her loose tresses away which her bow failed to keep. He blinks for several times sipping in the consequence, though it gives her time to take in his appearance.

He's yet again, wearing a sheer shirt with white flower buds spiraling from his abs towards the broad of his chest displaying his inked skin underneath beautifully — it shimmers every time he shifts on his feet letting the sunlight fall on him. His curls tamed and silkier than before, he groomed himself too good it puts Y/N to shame for being a girl, a careless one.

"You work here?" He asks with a drawl as if he has a all the time to dedicate to her, "nope just broke in to do a fat robbery — wanna join?" He cackles, hard it quelled his tummy and it also made her smile blushy-ly that he didn't find her humour boring.

"Okie . . S' what you'll have?" Brassing the belly of his nose he clears his throat roaming his eyes to catch a perfect spot, "'s okay if'll be waitin' fo' someone there?" He points at the nook aligned with the fuchsia coloured book shelves, wooden pots hanging and embroidered throw pillows piled and some overflowing from the love seats.

"Totally!!" She chirps. The thought of him waiting for a date sinks summat a tiny globe of mud in her stomach and dunno why — She wishes she could've things that other people have without burning themselves in effort unlike her.

She watches him getting comfortable, scrutinising around with curious and adorable big peepers. He'd give her a shy smile everytime he'd catch her staring and she'd just shake her head treating her back to track, that he's on a date, but not with you.

She didn't forgot to ask him if he needs anything putting a glass of water at his coffee table without him requesting, it's perpetually hot and even her throat'd get dry after some minutes. He's been here for two hours and even though the weather cooled down spotting pearly drops of rain, perspiration still beaded at his forehead.

The bustle of on goers kept on dying and she feels bad for him, knowing the end of it, she's been there before many times. Even visualised it at this same shop far more she should thinking the world's kind enough to even let their date know with q single message.

Sensing his timorousness she paddles towards him getting a coconut cookie from the jar, onto the plate and sliding it in his line of vision. He seems flustered — everytime they've interacted she's the one to be not in one place and now he's ripping the threads of his tattered skinny jeans.

"You can munch on this cookie, if you want to!" He looks back and forth between the cookie and her, fuziness spreading in his chest glad at her kindness and enough trust in him to not to kick him out, "Thank you." He grabs it taking a bite and she giggles when in the single one he left no crumbs behind, his mouth's big, shut it already! and so pink so pulpy, oh my goodness I hate youuu!!

"'M sure your friend's on way, it's rainy, might —" He cuts her off with a dissapointed spurt of breath, "dunno." He sulks into sofa folding the corner of book's page.

"You still've an hour till the cáfe closes, don't loose hope!" She pats his shoulder and he gives her a weak smile doing that bunny scrunch of his nose, combing his already wrecked hair and thanks her for the next thousand time.

Harry had worst dates. This seems to top them. To be honest because of Y/N being here. What will she think? What if she thinks it's his fault? That he's a broken dummy who nobody wants to date? He wants to grumble and call his date to end things but he waits patiently as the sky turned lilacs of night.

Y/N feels remorseful and angry at the person who stood him up this pathetically. With a sad sigh she turns the closed sign to display outward silently looking at him while he's in his own trance, she disappears into the kitchen and Cora gives her a knowing eye.

"Not believing in love's my greatest descion up till far. It's impossibly hard out there." She retorts. Placing a hot chicken steak atop the alfredo pasta and sprinkles parsiman making it appetizing, "Tell him to better end things with a pig like them." She says in all seriousness handing the tray to Y/N.

He's there. Gazing outside with lips pressed into a thin line and he seems down with his loose errand of curls tucked into a man bun now, a perfect hairdo outta frustration "Harry." She keeps her voice low not to startle him gaining his attention.

"You didn't have to." He shakes his head and she made a noise un-recognized by him putting the tray on the table and moves the ottoman with her feet closer to him sitting on it, "let's be eachother's date for a day." She hands him a fork and he accepts gladly. His sulkiness wooshing away when she digs in taking a bite and smearing the sauce all over her lips.

"If you don't mind me asking, is it the same behind-the-tree guy?" He nods. She frowns spitting grumpily, "what a prat." With the help of knife she tears the steak equally sliding it to his side and he smiles boyishly sucking the corner of his lip inside.

"'M sorry, Harry." She squeezes his knee and it bundles up the air in his lungs, "'s okay truffles — glad you were there fo' a rescue."

"Y/N." She tells him forwarding her hand to shake and he slips his calloused ones to envelop her warmth. His cheeks turns pink when his stomach made noises of starvation, "you need to eat c'mon!" She nudges his elbow and he obliges.

After, filling their tummies satisfied and full she hands him a cuppa of latte with a foamy sleeping kitty floating over it she even made two eyes and the uwu kitty smile with the cocoa powder, "pardon me if it seems like I murdered the poor thing . . . 'm still learning from Cora." His giggles were absolutely amazed and gleeful.

"It looks so good, I don't feel like stirin' it." He pats the bum of steamed floffy kitty with the curve of his tea spoon and it makes her giggle some. Relishing onto strawberry pastries and crumpets oozed into butter, sipping onto their lattes, watching the sky turning dark with the rain while Cora left them hours ago to themselves.

She puts a velvet cloak around herself after closing the shop and Harry waits for her as she takes her bicycle, "Thank ye' Y/N. 'S kind of you." He stirs his gaze from his shoes to her face smiling brightly at her and she waves him off with blushy cheeks, they walk along under the shelters of sideways shops avoiding to get soaked while she holds the steering of her bicycle.

"You can lounge at my place, till the rain stops." When he shakes his head she quips turning into the street, "I insist." They stop infront of the old white sculptured building having two floors in total.

The first thing she does entering into her flat's greet Tofu (it's a Bush-tit a white furball with two curious tich button eyes) leaving Harry to get out of his shoes and slip into her house ones (they barely fits him -- making him chuckle at the size difference).

His eyes giving a beautiful glimmer under the glow of the yellow light as he looks around the space, it's simple, with a bedding on wooden floor, a circle shelf against the window lined up with green plants, a desk opposite to it and a golden standing cage of her pet bird.

"Hi bubba missed me much?" She opens the cage to let it out and the chonky white bird sits on her fingers happily, "Harry meet Tofu." His lips curve upward at the lil thing as he caress it's fluffy head.

"Tofu looks like a snowball." He muses with bambi eyes and she agrees with excitement, "Sometimes I wanna squish him, cause he's just too cute." His eyes widens comically laughing softly at her statement.

"Evil thought said out aloud with cuteness still remains evil, love." Tofu hoped over Harry's finger and he takes him towards his shoulder making it sit there but he has another plans, to rest his furry bum over Harry's head making both of them giggle, "c'mon now birdy time to fill your tummy." She tip-toes to catch him in her palms and knocks her nose with Harry's in the way.

"Make yourself home!" She announces going to feed her pet and Harry flops onto her bed quite comfortably with his sweny legs stretched wide over the floor. They watched episodes of 'Bridgeton' wounded under her blankets and she almost fell asleep when he offered her genuinely.

"I'll help ye' have a tattoo, tiny atleast."

"Means alot to me." She yawns pondering with lug brain whether to snuggle into him or not, she did anyways. In the morning she was woken up by cold sheets and beeps of messages from Harry that made her feel she endured wings of fairy and she's bathing in the glitter of happiness.

She stares at the shop infront of her in amazement. It's friday night. She winded up all her assignments and came to this place exactly how it was mentioned in the address, when she enters inside spare teens and a bulky man was waiting outside the office thing-y . . .? Y/N presumes — an assistant chewing loudly on her gum talking onto phone with someone in hushed bratty tone and when Y/N knocks at the counter her piercing stare startles her a bit.

"Yes?" How rude! Y/N thinks with a pouty lip at her striking tone and she clears her throat, "'m here to meet . . . Harry." The snarky assistant rolls her eyes dismissing Y/N quickly to move back to her lazying, "He's busy." Y/N picks her finger to interject murmuring something under her breath and strolls back to wait with everyone.

Sun sets outside shimmering evening pink inside the lobby and the door atlast opens making her head perk up, "pet?" He looks sternly to his assistant but she doesn't seem fazed.

"Harry." Y/N grins, "Fo' how long you've been here?" She feels good someone's caring for her even though it's just for the fact she waited some hours for him, "doesn't matter can 've a tour?" He nods and the bratty assistant eyes him furiously taking Y/N's hand to lead her.

Harry watches her with dimply smile when she babbles at the details of his working station, "do I sit here?" She asks excitedly and he shakes his head, "yes, you may." They scrutinise through his sketches of designs together and she squeezes his wrist.

"Harry you're so talented! Look at 'em." He never felt this flustered with the compliments before button nose scrunching adorably. She chooses a a small plain jamsine flower nothing more, nothing less watching collect things for the process, "it's one of me mama's favourite." He exclaims rather proud snapping the latex gloves round his wrist.

"Where d'ya want it?"

"Where it hurts less." She replies wiping the sweat away with her frock, "it's outer shoulder, yer arm, calves and arse — " His mischievous grin awfully stretchy and she she slaps his bicep playfully.

"Outer shoulder?" She tells him confused to herself. He agrees strolling his stool near to her as she turns her back to him; his fingertips twitches when he pushes her hair to the side.

"Can you uh . . mm." She groans trying to reach for the zipper of her frock and he smoothes down his erratic heartbeat muttering, "yeah sure." She digs her nails into the delicate flesh of her palms when his calloused cold knuckles brushed deliberately against her skin while skimming the zip down slowly. Her eyelids flutter like butterfly wings when he slides her sleeve down her arm revealing her shoulder and it's so supple that Harry had to come back from his reverie; lick his lips to moisture.

He applies the numbing cream and she hisses softly the leather of seat sticking to her calves, her nerves jumbles and body startles when Harry starts the gun without warning her.

He loops his arm around her waist atop her thigh massaging it assuringly — sure it did nothing but to make her core throb insatiably as his rasp melted in her ears, "you're okay puppy." She gulps saying no word feeling her body getting hot at the each stroke of his thumb over her waist line.

"Ah -- Harry." She gasps out of air grasping his hand tightly at the sting of pain. She's baffled at the reactions of her body, her panties getting wet and the displeasing constant pricking of needle quenching out noises she never thought she was able to give out. When she whines and squirms Harry presses her down with force shushing her, "bug just a mo' it's smaller and would be done in seconds." She kisses her teeth bobbing her head vigorously and Harry chuckles at her effort remaining polite.

"Done!" He announces pulling away to admire it and when he hears the lil sniffles he quickly leaves everything sitting infront of her on the seat, "darlin' don't like it when ye' cry." He wipes her tears away not even glancing at her exposed collarbones and the plump flesh of her tits barely covered with her arm.

Soft and squishy, soft and squishy, soft and squishyyyyy.

His mind screams but her whimpery voice distracts him, "'m just gleeful that I've a tattoo because of you." He wraps it up expertly and zips her dress back with ever gentleness, "happy tears then?" She giggles with a grateful nod.

"Want a hug?" He thinks she deserves one for being brave and nice against her fear, "cuddle me up." She murmurs with swollen eyes and peachy cheeks. Uff — it stirs his cock in his jeans arousing the need to be with her everytime.

He rests his chin mushily into the crook of her neck swarming his arms around her waist to squeeze her warmly and she snuggles against his throat, damp lips puckering against his adam apple making it bob.

He feels jammy to be able to have a moment like this with her.

"Chinese takeout?" He collects his sketch journals, his phone, fedora apparently, keys of his motorbike and a spare helmet for her, "Yes please!"

They ate the take out perched against his bike with the meadow vast laying feet aways from them, under the breezy sky they conversed and Harry already got a tender spot for her in his heart. He never reaches to a stage where he could get to know someone with this passion and Y/N isn't from someone who'd guard herself from him just because his father was in the bad business.

As the evening brisked with cool dew of summer grass Harry leaned into her more and more.

He finds her little things infatuating, her bonding with Tofu and her dire wish to make good bum steamed kitties on the lattes, she has an irrefutable love for floral dresses and her homely habbit is doing ribbon work.

She got to know that Harry owns the tattoo shop, teaches few blokes the skill of it in free hours. He'ad attended lots of parties raving ones and the boring ones of higher socials, never lets any stranger step inside his loft which's situated upstairs of his shop. His father does all the criminaly things, he's this master mind in doing the evil things for people from getting money out of their enemies yada yada and Harry despises him for it, moreso, that he left them. He doesn't want to be associated with him in any case — he's none like him, he's kind and soft-hearted like his mother.

Y/N loves his goofy side. The one that cracks jokes and puns -- makes her fall in love with him without her even trying.

Last and foremost he has the render love for sheer shirts — told her he has shimmery ones for the fancying off.

"S'm no stranger then." She quips beside his shoulder as Harry unlocked his home's door. He glances her timidly amicably hovering over her lips, "absolutely not, yeh me bezzy." He raises his fist and she bumps it giggling.

Y/N that night sleeping on his bed dreamt of them laying together into the pillows of growing daffodils of meadow, lining up the stars in the sky and tell each other what they made ----- galloping rabbit, a slipping cake and she'd laugh with ugly snorts when Harry tells her that he sees a massive dick.

His grin proud and mellow to make his bezzy laugh. She squeaks when he pulls her onto him but soon her dreamboat sinks as she stirs at the warmth swallowing her whole.

She startes from her blurrines at something trapping her down till she recognizes the familiarity of two mascular arms sewn around her waist and what the fuck?

Harry made a makeshift pallet on the floor and right now she's all over him, pressed tightly against his chest — her cheeks turns red with embarrassment from being this clumsy and falling over him in her sleep.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

Taking her face out of his neck she admires the softness of his features when he's asleep and the dotting of beautiful moles, sighing a huge relaxed puff of breath and canoodles into him like an affection starved kitty.

It's another cool rainy day and Y/N keeps on swabbing the droplets of water off from her eyes with her elbow trying to paddle her bicycle. She was on her way to Harry's when the skies betrayed her. Standing on his doormat she soaks it completely waiting for him to answer the door, sad, that her gift was ruined too.

"Lovin' ye'll catch a cold – shit come inside." Concerned he ushers her inside his loft, halts in his tracks when she remains behind adoring a gruffy pout, "what is it?" He asks walking to her and cups her cheeks the instant.

"Embroidered ye' a shirt 's destroyed now." She raises it to show him and he stares it for good seconds before swiping her off the floor – hugging her to radiate the sentiment of endearment he carries for her in his heart. It bloats her cheeks pressed against his clavicles and her feet dangles as he sways them with a happy noise of favourite melody she's unfamiliar with, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He kisses her temple and it lingers at the tip of his tongue.

I could kiss you right fuckin' now, pet.

"Harry you got wet too, dummy!!"

"Oops, guess we both have to change now."

Harry already set mixers for her on the luke points so that she wouldn't have to pull out her hair just to take a shower (his shower's quite complicated) leaves his shirt and boxers for her on his bedside, putting the lilac sheer shirt she embroidered for him in the dryer.

When she comes outside with trippy hair he already has two glasses of wine filled and windows closed to keep her warm.

She isn't a wine person. She was never able to afford it and it never settled with her tummy (she shares too much and feels bubbly with the rose coloured bevvy). Harry's gaze rakes from floor to her ankles snapping directly to her face and it's just snoggles his heart with fondness, seeing her drooled in one of his shirts.

"Need ya not to worry ye'r gift is good as before." He assures her and she flops onto the sofa beside him, "Thank you Y/N." He says genuinely and she waves him with small smile, "hush you."

They drink in silence, then soon it rośed their cheeks and noses making them giggly and floaty. A bottle gone in just a span of a time. She rumbles her lips stretching out, the twinkle of her belly showing and he does the same, eyeing him she slides down on the floor perching her elbow over the coffee table and YET AGAIN HE FOLLLOWS HER ACTIONS.

"Are you mimicking me?" She squints at him and he squints back, "are ye' mimickin' meh?" She smacks his bicep playfully and when he does the same though the force of it lighter than her's adoring mischievous grin making her squeal with chuckles, "Harry!"

He quips back in equal girlish pitch, "Harry!" blinking peepers up at her softly — to test her fates, the recipe of her drunken state and her heart bursting with affection for him she jests at him.

"I like you and might be falling in love with you." She says without holding back a breath and his eyes widen in an animated way chin slipping from his palm, "You what?" He's in utter shock. He has never come across the words she just said with so much delicacy and sincerity — it boggles him to an extent his tongue got tied.

"Say it back now, huh?" She smirks at him shaking from inside counting on to get rejected and ridiculed. Upset at herself more than him at his lack of response, clearing her throat she whispers.

"So — " But, her apology strucks in her throat when he pulls her to himslef with a gentle grip to her elbow. Grabs her jaw tenderly and with the ardent boldness smushes his lips against her's to seal his affinity for her in a kiss that's so soft it melts her inside. His hands brews at her sides and glides up to their destination, to cup her cheeks and deepen the kiss while billowing her in his lap comfortably. He devours the plumness of her lips, tracing the curve of her bottom one with his warm tongue and kisses the corner of her lips again and again making her puff out air from her nostrils.

He has kissed people and it was always to lead something to satisfy the cavity of loneliness, but this, this already feels like home sitting infront of the Autunm fire eating cookies and drinking milk. She feels like the mold he's meant to melt into and explore every ridge of it.

She doesn't not know what's filthier the string of spit that's connecting them or his raspberry lips that she could kiss and kiss for forever, he doesn't stop there pecks her several times with lil smooches, "You're really good at it." She winds her arms tight around the nape of his neck murmuring against him (she wants to make him feel appreciated), his cock chubbing up in his trousers and it lulls her head against his cheek upon feeling it. The thought of having him hard for her boasts the genitilty in herself and she kisses his smiling mouth.

"Wanna make ye' feel good." He presses his lips back against her's with more passion than before and tips her chin with his thumb to stamp lil pecks down her throat feeling his lips tingling to kiss her again, it's way better than he envisioned. Her softness could swallow him and the thought makes his hips stutter imagining his hard prick sucked inside her swelled up walls. His large calloused hands meander down her bottom taking the ripeness of it in a bunch of squeeze.

"On the bed." He pats her bum pinching it playfully and she squeaks obliging him giggles when she bounces over the bed. Him crawling behind her as lion ready to feast over a hare.

Leaning against the head of the bed he lays her between his wide spread legs, her back against his chest and their fronts facing the tall framed mirror infront of them.

"Comfy?" She bobs her head gulping cause no one has ever cared what'll be consuming for her and what not, "I want ye' to look in the mirror sweet girl, at us." He rasps in her ear stroking the hilt of her jaw in continuous circles and when she hums fluttering her eyelids, arching her back at the throb of her pussy and his dirtiness making her slick down to her bum he glides his thumb inside her mouth telling her to, "get 'em proper wet for me." She does coating his thumb with her saliva and flicking her tongue over it many time while he glazes his palms over her ribs, under the crescent of her tits shirt pulled to her collarbones.

She gags around his digit when he took her perky nipple in between his middle and index pulling it then kneads it with a kiss to her earlobe getting her out of his boxers telling her, "enough, pet." When she doesn't listen to him and kept on sucking thinking of his cock in her mouth he gruffs splitting her thighs apart and pressing the soles of her feet tightly against the mattress with his own ankles, "I said enough." Shushing her hungry kitten whimpers he trails his wet thumb down her fallen lip and chin, popping her shirt open and rims it around her areola, "s' soft wanna rub me cock between 'em tits." The shiver that hits her makes her squirm and Harry gives a chaste kiss to her open mouth putting his thumb at her entrance ready to play with her cunt.

"Your eyes open 'em fo' me, puppy." He ducks down to kiss her not letting her turn around himself so that her neck doesn't strain while caressing his fingers up and down in her slickness making soapy noises on purpose, when she finally looks in the mirror locking eyes with him as if he's holding the most precious gem in his arms — the sight turned her spine into a sharp arrow, "c - ca-can I've more?" She gasps squeezing his bicep pussy lips fluttering and her hole palpitates aching for him.

"My polite girl." He smiles awfully fonded at her and she nods licking her lips to speak, "'m good, good always." He pushes his two fingers inside her cunt and she moans with her whole will trying to sink herself to his knuckles nails digging into his shoulders, "I know ye'r." He assures her sliding them out and teasing her little pink asshole turning her into a whining mess.

She twitches around his fingers when he pumps them back along with her sticky wetness and fucks her with them, flickering her clit with his other hand and kneads the inside of her fleshy thigh. She gives out a gaspy moan of unbearable pleasure when his cock's stiffeness rubs between her asscheeks, "ye' feel it? S' fo' you, gonna stuff yeh full of me cock, fuck you nice n' warm and cum all over yer pussy. How you deserved to be fucked, is that okay?" She never expected him this much of a lewd talker — hell she didn't even expected him to step out of his conserved, rather shy demeanour, "yes, yes, yes." She visioned him as a curt dom, who's more into BDSM but he's warm and caring with her. Just in few second of them doing it he proved it how much he's loving to please her.

"Ah! 'm gonna cum . . . gonna —" His sweet vulgar words combined with him toying, rubbing and fingereing her already swollen pussy tips her to the edge she was desiring to get from him, "cum all over me fingers. Want it s' bad from ye darlin', to see you." He says in a tone that's on the verge of pleading but holds a commanding hint under it and with her bones all stiffing, her skin burning and heart buzzing she snaps into her own dreamy world gushing over his fingers with her juices.

"Oh . . Harry." She loudly mewls thrashing in his arms from the intensity of her orgasm and he holds her tight with his arms wrapped around her torso, kisses to the curve of her neck and exposed collarbones. He notices her stiring away from his hand due to sensitivity and takes out his fingers with a squelching popping noise that made her blink from her semblance. Her chest heaves as she watches him in the mirror licking her cum off his wrists with the tip of his pink tongue, "mhm tastes s' sweet." One by one he sucks his finger humming around them seductively spiking her insides yearing to be fucked by him, "just like you sweet puppy."

Gently laying her down he knees infront of her getting out of his flimsy shirt and Y/N admires the flounce of tattoos trailing from his pecks down his adorable love handles. Her gaze stops at the his happy trail leading down to where he's swelled up against his zipper and she hasn't seen someone so beautiful in her entire life, he shimmies his joggers down teasingly with a smirk and she whines hiccuping when his cock slaps against his lower abdomen making her eyes go wide.

"Oh my . . " She gasps at the gorgeous sight of his rock-hard cock between his supple thighs. He's beautifully big, satiny and a dot of shade lighter than his lips making his prick so kissable, would it even fit?? She could already imagine it stretching her out gracefully and stimulating her in ways her fingers could never, "you're so gorgeous button."

The shiny swollen tip, and the dollop of pre-come weeping down his slit alluring her to have him in her mouth but he strokes it not to waste it.

"What's the pout fo' darlin'?" He asks as she stares it making him all shy but he overcomes it persistent to make her feel good (she shared with him that she never knew what being cared feels like) he wanna gives her all lovin' as she did to him the day in cafe. Cups the nape of her neck to bring her for another kiss splitting his thumb into her hair and the moment is so vulnerable and saccharine as he snogs her to floatiness, "will make sure it fits — make you cum many times, baby." He flips her gently.

"On ye tummy fo' me, like an atta pup ye're." It knots her stomach into ropes and she jolts squealing softly into pillows when he smacked her peach watching it jiggle while tugging at his prick to coat it with his thick wetness.

He moans biting his lower lip lulling his head over his shoulders stroking the head of his cock between her asscheeks and round her entrance not pushing at once torching both of them, "you're so delicate wanna be slow with you." He whispers to her pressing his front against her shoulders while wrapping his hand around his shaft to push inside her.

"It's okay!" Her tiny squeaks rolls into a moan when the head of his cock settles inside her and when she twitches around it he cruffs a groan coaxing her sides, "shhh baby 's okay relax fo'me." Taking his hand away from around himself he places it atop her ass withdrawing and looking down to see her cunt glistening with his and her's wetness — then bottoming out deep inside her till his balls are snug against her bum. His stomach twists with pleasure at the warmth that blankets his cock completely making him hunch but he recoups with his arms pressed beside her temple.

The stretch that burns through her core's so pleasing and fulfilling. It hurts in a good way. She knows how patient and composed he's being for her, from the way he fattens tucked inside her walls and he slides his hand between her front and the sheets to caress her soft breasts moving with rough pace.

"Don't stop, please." She recites the mantra almost crushing his fingers with her grip around, it's alot, the constant rub of sheet against her clit and him driving inside her from behind with moans sexier than in erotic audio books. He draws loose circles over her mound making her thighs spread wider with the inability to hold them as he pinched her clit coercion her sensitive button, "oh my god . ." With the whimpers of his name she squirts around his cock and it makes her throw her hips at him.

When he pulls out to turn her on back she whines with a frown, heaving chest and coral cheeks looking totally fucked already, "wanna see ye'r face when you come . . . s' beautiful." He hisses hauling her legs around his waist lowering himself down to enter her with lil smooches to her cheeks, "cum again fo' me baby — yeah just like that squeeze on meh." He pounds her over and over grinding his pelvis against her's to stimulate her in every way.

Feeling the heat crackling in her bones and tummy she takes him by shoulders to cuddle him closer to her chest raising her hips to meet his's, a crying mess, with glossiness twinkling at the corners of her eyes as she comes with euphoria dawning upon her and Harry works her up again.

"Once more, love, i know you've one more fo' me." He gives out a purry groan biting her throat and the valley of her chest, snuggling against it with kisses — when she shakes her head through around him he lines up his nose against her nose petal–ling his lips over her's, "yes you could puppy my sweet — " His eyelids bolting shut at the built of up of his own release and the moment she cums with his cock now he shoots his thick spurt deep inside her.

"This's what it only took fo' you? Callin' ye mere sweet names." He fucks her through it and Y/N admits that he went with his promise --- fucked her like she had never before, they remain like that for some time catching their breaths and then he pulls out of her gently and pumps himself to empty his load shooting it over her pussy and abdomen, "you came so much." She says completely baffled and he steals a chaste kiss from her looking at the white ribbons sticking to her skin.

"Just for you, babyhun."

He tells her not to move and whisks away coming back with a pack of baby wipes. Her hearts swirls with so much fondness for him when he pats the wipes between his palms to get them less cold and shushes her with pecks when she hisses with sensitivity.

They take another shower, this time together and it's not sexual at all though alot of tired poofy kisses and cute yawns were included as they gave eachother shampoo massages and she'd cooe everytime untangling his long hickorey curl.

They changed the sheets (unapologetically very clumsily) and he fetches a glass of water for her making it drink her.

When they were cuddled awfully good he lifts his head up from it was nuzzled between her titties. His accent drawly and slippery from tiredness, "Y/N." He checks if she's asleep and she hums in response starting to play with his hair lazily.

"That day when me date didn't show up?" Witha half heart she hums again, she doesn't like to talk bout that day, because the hopelessness that conquered him that evening still makes her sad.

"I was glad ye' were there 'n 'm so so so thankful that he didn't show up. Else we wouldn't be here in eachother's embrace 'n me heart still'd been mournful to sleep in cold sheets waiting fo' me person." It's the most he has talked in his soberness. It wells up tears in both of their eyes.

"You're my person." She cradles his face hating it that he was kept so love starved his entire life and she gazes him dearly, sweetly, affectionately all the words that could describe love for someone spilling out of the chambers of heart.

"I want to love you so much, pet, make you me most treasured human hershey."

"I'm in, cuddle me up." He grins smauching a loud kiss to her lips and cosying back to his previous spot purring like a kitten thrown into heaps of fluffy blankets.

#HARRY STYLES SMUT #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry smut #harry x y/n #harry styles blurb #cute harry #hsh #fluff #harry angst #harry styles fanfiction #dom harry #HARRY WRITINGGGG

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beskarhearts · 3 years

Text

The Passenger (Din Djarin x reader)

gif credits @bestintheparsec

Connection series Pt. 14

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, canon typical violence/death, ~sexual tension~

Word count: over 11K

Summary: A new passenger joins the Razor Crest crew.

Notes: As always, I hope everyone enjoys this! Please tell me what you all think, your opinions/predictions, and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! (also I didn’t edit this as thoroughly as I usually do but I promise I will later when I have time!!)

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You looked over at Din and scoffed, placing your arms over your chest as you watch him stumble besides you. “You really should of let me carry something.”

“I am fine.”

“How about I grab a couple of bags to carry?”

“No.”

“You are being stubborn.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m being a gentlemen.”

“A gentlemen wouldn’t be covered in dried Krayt Dragon venom and saliva and goo.” you chirped back and Din sighed. “Although it is quite the look for you.”

Ever since the three of you had been stopped by those scavengers and the speeder bike was destroyed, Din had insisted on carrying everything. The man was so stubborn he tried to carry the child but you had demanded he stay in the pouch on your side. Otherwise, Din was precariously balancing everything you guys had on the bike, hanging bags off a rifle of his which he held on his shoulders. Din was strong but he had been walking like this for hours and it was simply getting ridiculous.

“You know, I am pretty strong. I think I can handle a couple bags.” you said, looking over at him but his head remained aimed straight ahead as he walked through the town. The three of you had just made it back to Mos Eisley and it was now night, the stars twinkling above and the heavy suns of the planet long gone.

“Well, we are here so you don’t need to worry.” Din said, stopping in his tracks as you made it to a cantina.

You looked over at Din and gave him a teasing smirk. “If you are trying to buy me a drink, you should have just said so.”

Din sighed and looked down at you. “Motto will be here.”

“How do you know?” you asked, peering into the doorway of the cantina and not finding her upon first glance.

“She loves to gamble.”

Din walked into the building after that and you followed. Sure enough, Peli was sat in a booth in the back. As you neared, you found an insectoid creature of some kind sat across from her and the pair were intensely focused on a game of Sabacc. You smiled when you saw the cards, remembering how your grandmother had loved playing the game so much and had taught you how to not only play it, but win.

Din made his way to the table, a hulking figure who stood above the two. The insectoid seemed to notice his presence but Peli on the other hand was staring at the board with so much focus that it made you chuckle quietly to yourself.

“I don’t know. Looks like someone’s gonna be goin’ home empty-handed.“ Peli said to the creature across from her. She finally looked up and seemed to notice you and the Mandalorian, raising an eyebrow as she looked over all the stuff he held. Her eyes landed on the helmet and she scoffed. “You finally found a Mandalorian and you killed him?”

“He wasn’t Mandalorian. I bought this armor off of him, though.” Din replied.

“What’d that set you back?” Peli asked inquisitively.

“Oh, just killing a Krayt Dragon. No biggie. He only got swallowed whole by it. Real piece of cake.” you sarcastically said.

Peli raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Is that all?”

“Yeah. Didn’t realize getting it would be so easy. It was practically a vacation.” you mumbled and Peli chuckled at that.

“He was my last lead on finding other Mandalorians.” Din justified.

Before Peli or you had the chance to make another sarcastic comment, the creature began speaking in his native tongue. Peli looked over at him and listened before turning back to the two of you. “Okay. Well, you might be in luck. Dr. Mandible here says he can connect you with someone who can help you, if you cover his call this round. It’s what he said.”

Din looked down at the board and sighed. “What’s the bet?”

“Five hundred.”

Din looked over at you, as if saying ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’. You looked back at the table and inspected the cards. It wasn’t obvious at a first glance but if you really studied where everything was, Peli had the upper hand. As long as the creature didn’t notice the play she was making, she would probably have it.

“That’s a high stakes game.” Din noted.

“Hey, he’s on a winning streak.” Peli said. You raised an eyebrow and looked at her. She gave you a lazy grin, knowing you could see what she was playing at.

Din let out a sigh as the creature began speaking again, the child on your side joining in on the conversation with a small coo. Din reached into his pockets and dropped the credits on the table. You couldn’t help but to silently giggle at the situation. You probably should of warned him so he wasn’t loosing out on credits, but you had to admire Peli.

“Is the pot right?” Peli asked and the creature responded. Peli smirked before putting her card on the table - an Idiot’s Array - and she gave a big, greedy grin. “Ha! Idiot’s Array! Pay up, thorax!”

Din grunted and you couldn’t help to laugh. “I thought you said he was on a winning streak?”

“Oh. Stop your cryin’. You’ll rust.” Peli scoulded.

You let out a big belly laugh at that and Din looked over at you. “You knew?”

You shyly chuckled. “I admire Peli’s initiative. What can I say? Also, we ruined that speeder she gave us so...”

“My speeder is ruined?” Peli asked, her nonexistent eyebrows shooting up to the top of her head.

“You mean the speeder I gave you?” Din asked, tilting her helmet at her. She rolled her eyes and gathered her winnings.

Dr. Mandible spoke again and Peli once again translated. “All right. He says the contact will rendezvous at the hangar.” He added more and Peli continued. “They’ll tell you where to find some Mandalorians. That’s what you wanted, right? All right, well, stop your mopin’. More importantly, did you bring back any of that dragon meat? Better not have any maggots on it. I don’t like maggots.”

You raised an eyebrow and made a disgusted face. “You are going to eat that?”

“Not to sound crude, but there isn’t much I wouldn’t eat. And roasted Krayt Dragon is delicious.” Peli said, looking satisfied at the mere thought of some food. “Also, your kid looks thrilled by the thought as well so don’t be too judgy.”

You looked down at the child, who was admiring the meat that hung off Din’s pack with a slightly awestruck expression, like he was looking at the most beautiful creature. You gave a small chuckle and pat his head, which he cooed to. “Let’s get you some food, kid.”

__________________

The child now looked like he was in love as he watched the dragon meat being roasted by a droid above a fire, which was dripping juices which the child eagerly looked at. You gave a small laugh as he cooed at it, his stubby hands reaching out.

Peli made her way through the door, looking at the droid that was cooking it. “Hey, don’t overcook it, Treadwell! I like it medium rare! I’m not some Rodian, for crying out loud.”

You chuckled as you looked up at Peli, who now faced you and Din. “All right, here’s the deal. A Mandalorian covert is close. It’s in this sector, one system trailing.”

“Are they the ones that left Nevarro?” Din asked.

Peli shrugged. “Don’t know. All I know is that the contact will lead you to them.”

“And what will this cost us? And don’t you dare say we have to kill something or I’ll lose it.” you said.

“Well, that’s the great news. It’s free. Aside from a finder’s fee, of course.” Peli said confidently but you couldn’t help but to notice a weariness from her which caused you to raise your eyebrow.

“What’s the not-great news?” Din asked, seeming just as hesitant as you were.

“Nothing. It’s all great.”

You let out a loud laugh, more like a bark. “Oh, please. The last time something went great for us was...well... Now that I think about it, never.”

“Well, there is one small skank in the scud pie.” Peli hesitantly said, giving you a look you couldn’t quite place.

“Bingo.” you muttered under your breath.

“Which is?” Din asked.

“The contact wants passage to the system.” Peli said.

You raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Do you vouch for them?” Din asked.

“On my life.” Peli said plainly.

Din looked over at you and you let out a sigh. You wanted to be in the ship, just with him and the kid. Try to ignore the mad journey the three of you were on and be alone with Din. But, if this got you where you had to be, so be it. “Fine.” you mumbled.

Din sighed again and went to turn until Peli’s voice broke out again.

“And...no hyperdrive.“

Your head shot up and you looked at Peli with an expression of absolute bewilderment. “What?”

“You want me to travel sublight? Deal’s off.”

Peli huffed at his definitive answer. “It’s one sector over.” she justified but Din shook his head.

“Moving fast is the only thing keeping us safe.” Din explained and you nodded in agreement.

“We might as well just turn ourselves in.” you said but Peli looked exasperated, not seeming to care about your explanation. “Why do we need to travel sublight anyways?”

“These are mitigating circumstances.“

“What do you mean ‘mitigating’?” Din asks.

Motto simply turns around as a creature begins to walk through the door, letting out a croak as she saw you. It was a frog-like creature with two big eyes that stared at the four of you. Her skin was a blend of pinks and purples, and you couldn’t help but to feel your heart soften up as you saw what she had. On her back was a large tank that looked entirely too heavy, filled with what looked like orange eggs that bobbed in the glowing blue liquid within it. She walked over to where you were, seeming to almost smile as she looked between you and Din and Motto.

Din puts his hands on his hips, tilting his helmet to the side and down to look at Peli. “I’m not a taxi service.”

You couldn’t help but to gasp and swat a hand into his shoulder. He looked over at you and you shook your head at him. “What does she need?” you ask.

The lady begins to speak to Motto, who nods. “What is the cargo?” Din asked.

Peli turns to the frog woman, speaking in her language. The woman responds emphatically and you nod along even though you don’t understand a word she is saying. “It’s her spawn. She needs her eggs fertilized by the equinox or her line will end. If you jump into hyperspace, they’ll die. She said her husband has settled on the estuary moon of Trask in the system of the gas giant Kol Iben.”

“She said all of that?” Din said with speculation.

“I paraphrased.” Peli offered with a shrug.

“And she knows there are Mandalorians there?” you asked. You already knew deep down that you needed to help her. She had a tank full of offspring that held the key to her line’s survival. You weren’t technically a mother, but you could identify with her desperate need to protect her children and get them to where they needed to be, before it was too late.

The two women communicated before Peli turned to you. “She said her husband has seen them.”

You nodded, thinking that was enough of a reason to justify bringing her but Din continued. “Do you know the husband?”

“No. I just met her ten minutes before you walked in.” Peli said as if it was the most obvious thing. Meanwhile a droid moved up to her with a plate of meat which she grabbed with a grin.

“I thought you said you vouched for her on your life.” Din sarcastically responded.

She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an excellent judge of character. That’s why I like this girlfriend on yours.” She grabbed the meat with her hands and placed it in her mouth, her teeth gnawing and tearing away at it. You smiled down at her, letting out a small giggle at her words.

“We can’t.”

Your head once against shot up to look at Din and you huffed. “Watch the kid, Peli.” You said before grabbing onto his arm and dragging him away from the creature and Peli, behind the ship so you two could be hidden away. “Din Djarin!” you whispered and he looked down at you, helmet tilted in confusion.

“What?” he asked and you shook your head in disbelief.

“We need to help that lady.” you said, completely exasperated by the fact that you had to even explain this concept.

“You want us to travel sublight?” Din asked incredulously, like you were saying the stupidest thing in the galaxy.

“The survival of her line is at stake. She has a container full of her potential offspring in there!” You threw your hands up.

“And I’ve got a child and riddur to protect!” He said.

You suddenly froze, your eyebrows shooting up and anger dissipating. “W-what did you just say?” you mumbled and you could feel Din’s whole body lock up with realization.

“I said I have a child and cyar’ika to protect.” He lied dumbly, his hand nervously going to his hips.

“No, you said-”

“We can’t take her.” He interrupted but your mind was still whirring from what you swore you heard him say. You took a moment to calm down your racing heart and focus back on what you were saying.

“We can, technically. And we should, morally.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“But not impossible.” you countered back.

“Are you trying to get us killed?”

“No offense sir, but you are the one who crawled into a Krayt dragons mouth so who here as a tendency to almost get killed?” You sarcastically responded.

Din grunted and you can practically feel him rolling his eyes. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I have a good feeling about this. We can help her and find other Mandalorians. This sounds like a great compromise to me.” You explained and Din sighed. You tried to hold back a smile, not wanting him to know how pleased you were. You could feel him caving in and you knew deep down he would say yes. Din might be a tough Mandalorian, but he was a secret softie deep down and you knew he would always do the right thing.

“Sweet one...” He mumbled and you shot your hands up in victory, wrapping them around his neck to pull him into a tight hug.

“Yes! Thank you!” You whispered as his hands landed on your hips, pulling you away slightly so he could look down at you.

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Oh, please. You surrender. Let’s go let our new friend know!” You excitedly said, trying to turn away but Din’s grip on you remained strong. You looked over at him with confusion. “Din, we should go.”

“We won’t be alone for a while so just give me a minute.”

You shoulders sagged a little at the realization. You and Din hadn’t really had a moment of isolation together in days. You had either been in the middle of nowhere or with Tuskens or with Cobb. No opportunity to be completely comfortable with each other. Now that you thought about it, you had only kissed him once in the last few days. “Oh.”

“We were supposed to be alone after this. Just you, me, and the kid on the Crest.” Din said as he leaned his helmet against your forehead.

“And we will be soon. This will just take a couple days.” You whispered back at him, trying to find some optimism.

Din suddenly squeezed on your hip a little tighter and made you stumble back so you were pressed into the side of the Crest. He leaned into you, his chest plate rubbing against your front. You could feel the rise and fall of each breath he took and it filled you with peace. This wasn’t skin-to-skin contact but it was as close as you had gotten to it in days and it seemed to wake some uncontrollable urge in you. “You said all we had to do was kill the Krayt Dragon and then...” he trailed off purposely, allowing you to remember the moment outside your tents that night. The need you had felt for him and the desperation in his voice.

“You should have known nothing goes according to plan for us.” You muttered and Din pressed into you tighter, causing you to gasp. His helmet dipped down into your neck and you lifted your head up, letting out a small noise at the contact.

“I need you.” You wondered if he meant for you to hear it with how quiet he was but you did and the words sent a shiver down your spine. You brought your hands up to hold onto his shoulders, just clasping onto the beskar that covered them but it felt good to hold him in your hands.

“Din, we need-” your words got caught in your throat as his hands began to drift down, so slowly you barely detected it. “Damn it, Din.” you huffed, starting to get irritated with the effect he had on you.

“What’s wrong, sweet one?” you rolled your eyes at the way he was acting. Like he didn’t know what he did to you.

“Shut up and stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Touching me.” you hissed but Din’s hand started to drift behind you and down.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Yes, I do. But right now is not the time.” He hands rested on the lowest portion of your back and he began to lift the fabric of your shirt up, his gloved hands now planting onto your skin. You hissed at the contact and tried your best to look away from him but he just stared down at you.

“Maybe it is...”

“Din.” you whispered softly.

“Hey, what are you two doing back there?” You and Din jumped away quickly as Peli rounded the corner, looking at you two with a new hunk of meat held in her hands. She seemed to take no notice of the way your skin was flushed or how your shirt now rested a little higher than it had been before. Didn’t see the way your chest heaved and Din’s moved a little quicker than it had before with each breath. Instead she just took a big bite out of her food and looked between you two, mumbling her words through the food in her mouth. “Did you decide?”

Din sighed and looked over at you, as if hoping you could change your mind because of what just happened. Instead you looked away from him and nodded firmly. “Tell that friend of yours we leave soon.”

____________

“Now, I’m gonna ask you to stay strapped in whenever you’re seated. Traveling sublight is a bit dicey these days. Whether it’s pirates or warlords, someone either ends up with a nice chunk of change, or your ship.” Din told the woman who was now sat in the passenger seat where you normally were. You stood in the cockpit now, having offered the seat to her since she had been carrying the tank full of eggs, which now sat in the hull of the ship where the child rested. The frog lady began to speak in her language and you looked over at Din, hoping he was catching it.

“I don’t speak whatever language that is. You speak...Huttese?” He asked and followed it with something in another language that sounded similar to hers but by no means the same. She just stared at him blankly, not understanding a lick of what he spoke. Din looked over at you and you shrugged.

“Sorry. I don’t know frog. Skipped that class.” You responded and Din turned, flicking a switch on the dashboard and sighing.

“So, I’m gonna hit the rack. I’ve set the nav for our course. It’s gonna take a while. I recommend you get some rest.“ He explained to the new passenger and you couldn’t help but to smile. He knew she probably didn’t understand a word but he still explained everything to her, treated her like a person and not a hassle.

Din stood from his seat, heading down the ladder of the ship. You looked at the woman before following him down and gave her a warm smile. “I promise he is a big softie.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” You heard from the hull of the ship and you and the frog woman both looked in the direction of the sound. She started to rise from her seat but you held a hand up.

“It’s okay. Stay here. I’m sure he is just being grumpy or something.” You had no clue what was happening but if it was worrying Din, it wasn’t good. At all. You nervously chuckled before shimmying down the ladder and jumping down into the hull. You looked over at where Din stood hovering above the child.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you. The child was stood right next to the tank full of eggs and held one in his hand, staring at Din as he slurped one of the orange balls right up. “No!” you let out.

Din bended down quickly, closing the lid of the tank and grabbing the child who looked up at you two innocently, as if he wasn’t committing genocide. “That is not food.” Din sternly told him but the child seemed to take no care or notice.

“Oh my god, the kid ate a child.” You murmured quietly so the woman in the cockpit couldn’t hear.

“Technically it’s not fertilized so it’s just an egg.” Din reasoned and you looked up at him in bewilderment.

“You say that like that’s better.” You screeched in bewilderment and Din chuckled at the expression on your face.

“Sweet one, it’s okay.”

“I thought he kept looking at the eggs cause they were glowing and a fun color! Not because he wanted to end a whole line of creatures.” You whisper-yelled, feeling your voice rise. The child actually had the audacity to smile up at you and you swore your eyebrows shot all the way up your forehead.

“We will just make sure it doesn’t happen anymore. It was a one time thing.” Din explained and you nodded slowly, eyes still trained onto the child who seemed to be having a great time, a small yawn escaping his lips. Oh yeah, must be tired from eating a child. “Let’s go to bed.”

You paused as Din started to head towards his cot. He doesn’t realize you weren’t following after him until he placed the child down in his hammock and looked over at you. You smiled up at him almost guiltily. “Cyar’ika, what’s wrong?”

“Well, you see, I was going to sleep in the cockpit.”

Din tilted his helmet and planted a hand on hip. “What?”

“I want to keep her company. She is probably so lonely and scared.” You said with a little frown.

“She is an adult.”

“Yes, but I remember my first night on this ship. Back when we didn’t know each other and you were just some strange man. It was kind of... unnerving.”

“So, you are going to sleep up there?” Din questioned and you nodded.

“Yeah. Keep her some company. A friendly face, y’know?”

Din let out a sigh and shook his head. “You are a good person.”

You smiled at the compliment and walked over to him, resting a hand on one of his biceps and squeezing it reassuringly. You felt silly doing so but you planted a small kiss on his helmet, like you would kiss his cheek if you were allowed to see it. “Goodnight.”

“Good night, sweet one.”

You gently grabbed a blanket on your way up the ladder, pulling yourself up into the cockpit to still find the frog lady awake. She turned back to look at you and jumped as she heard you but you just help a hand up, trying to indicate everything was fine. “I thought I’d keep you company.” She just stared back at you blankly and you shrugged. “Even though you can’t understand anything I’m saying.”

She finally said something in her native language and you cocked your head, trying to see if you could understand even one little part of it but failing to do so. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” you said solemnly and she seemed to comprehend that you didn’t know a word she was saying as well. You slowly brought the blanket in your hand up and towards her. “Are you cold? I know this ship can be colder than Hoth sometimes.”

The woman seemed to understand that at least, bringing one of her webbed hands out to grab onto the blanket and pull it over her lap, giving you a gracious smile which you returned happily. You then made your way into the drivers seat and plopped down on it, sighing in relief. You and Din had been so busy the last few days and you hadn’t even realized how much it had beaten down your body, exhausting you in every way. It wasn’t until you sat down that you felt the deep ache in all your muscles and bones and the fatigue that washed over you. You looked over at the woman again whose eyes were finally closed and she seemed to be drifting into sleep very quickly. You smiled as you saw the blanket wrapped around her and nodded to yourself, glad you came up. You couldn’t do much but you figured this was a kindness you could show her that she could possibly understand.

You rested your head back completely, letting your eyes slip close and you began to drift off quickly.

____________

Wake up.

Your eyes shot open instantly and you jerked upwards in the seat, feeling your hands shake at the loud voice that rang through the cockpit. You looked over at the creature in the passenger seat, expecting her to be awake from how loud the voice was but she was still fast asleep, like she hadn’t heard a thing. You whipped your head around the cockpit but found nothing out of place. You felt crazy. You swore you had heard a female voice as clear as day, so loud it woke you up. It had sounded so familiar as well...

You tried to shrug it off, allowing your half asleep body to fall back into the seat. You closed your eyes, ready to slip back into the deep sleep you were in when it called out again.

Wake up.

What the kriff? You now stood up this time and looked around even more, trying to find the tiniest hint that something was up. But once again, you saw nothing out of the ordinary and certainly no woman standing in the room. You walked away from the chair, making sure to step lightly as to not wake up the passenger. You began to slip down the ladder, determined to find a source of the noise that didn’t just include you being crazy. You looked over at where Dins cot was, but the hatch to it was closed and he was probably dead asleep in there, more worn out then you even were from the last few days. You looked over at the refresher, but even that was empty, along with the hull. The only new thing was the glow of the tank of eggs on the floor. You shook your head, starting to turn around when you heard the voice again.

“Shit, this is harder than it seems.” The voice was coming from behind you, this you knew definitively. You also knew one thing for sure. The voice was one you completely recognized in every way, knew it like the back of your hand. It was warm and wise, but also a little crackly like it was aged. Your heart began to slam in your chest. That was your grandmothers voice. Clear as can be and it was coming behind you. You could also see a blue glow begin to illuminate the room but you couldn’t bare to turn around. You were imagining this, or at the very least dreaming. This wasn’t real and it would just hurt. “Gee, it’s been how many years and you can’t even give me a good look? I’m not naked or anything.”

You closed your eyes as you felt your emotions overwhelm you. It sounded so much like her; the inflection of her tone and the sarcastic nature that intertwined with everything she said. “I’m dreaming.” You muttered out loud, trying to break yourself away from the cruelty of it but you find yourself shocked when a laughter filled the hull. One that sounded easily like yours, just a little older.

“I come back to see you after all these years and you call me a dream. I ought to be offended. Or maybe it’s a compliment...”

You had to look. Maker forbid it was her and you didn’t look. You began to slowly turn around, your feet seeming to be made of lead and feeling so heavy with every step you took to turn completely. Once you finally did, you allowed your eyes to squint open and there she was. She looked like her, just like she had the last day you saw her, except it looked like she was projection or hologram, a blue haze surrounding her and seeming to wash over the any color. You opened your eyes completely as you watched her smile as you brightly, the kind of smile that had aways made you feel so worth it. “H-how is this... is this r-real or am I c-c-crazy?” You could barely speak as you stared at her, seeing the way she swayed slowly where she stood, like she had always done. She had driven your mother crazy because she always had to be moving, never could stay still. Everything she did screamed that it was her but you were still so hesitant.

“Oh, yeah. It’s me. This whole force ghost thing is a lot harder than it looks though.”

“Force ghost?”

“You know what happens when we all pass. We become part of the Force.” She said with a beautiful grin, the kind that could ease any worries.

“What are you doing?” You asked and she chuckled at the way you awkwardly mumbled it.

“I needed to talk to you.”

You paused to look at her as she continued to stand before you. You stepped forward to get closer, getting a proper look at her. You couldn’t help but to smile as you looked at every wrinkle, every strand of hair braided away, every breath she took. It was like she was right there before you. Like you could reach out and touch her. Part of you almost did but you didn’t want to do so and realize she wasn’t actually physically there.

“You thought we didn’t keep an eye on you, kid? Of course we did.” She said with a knowing nod and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest. You always liked to think they were watching, but bearding your ideas be confirmed brought you so much peace. “And may I just say, you have been having quite the time.”

You suddenly realized that she must know everything. About Din and the child. About how you were in love with Din and he knew what you were. She must have sensed the sudden change in your demeanor and she looked at you with a soft smile. “Don’t worry, my little one. I’m very happy for you.”

“You know-”

“Everything?” you look at her and nod dumbly to which she grins. “Oh, yeah. Everything. I mean I had to keep an eye on you. And trust me, I was none too pleased about a Mandalorian at first. But this one seems alright.”

She said the last part with a soft smile, the kind that expressed how he was more than just alright. You smiled up at her and decided to let the shock wash away. Even if this was just a dream or a extremely vivid hallucination, you wanted to enjoy this. “Yeah. I guess he is alright.” you said with a smirk to which she nodded. “Are... are you guys okay?”

She let her shoulders sag slightly, looking at you softly. “You need to stop blaming yourself.”

“I just-”

“You tried your best.”

“I’m sorry.” you blurted out.

“There is no need to be sorry.”

“You sacrificed yourself to save me.” You told her, now exasperated. You were working on accepting what happened but you couldn’t hear her say there was no need to be sorry. That is was okay.

“And you nearly died trying to protect me.” She retorted and you rolled your eyes.

“And I failed.”

“No. You did so well you nearly killed yourself.” She told you and you looked away from her stern gaze, the same one she gave you when she was teaching you an important lesson.

“You should of ran away. You would of lived.” You softly said, crossing your arms over your chest as you blinked your eyes quickly, not wanting to cry. She had already seen you so weak and damaged before. She didn’t need to see it again.

“I was an old woman who had lived long enough. I knew saving you with the Force would take everything out of me but it was worth it. I mean, look at your life. It has only just begun.” you heard the softness and kindness, but also the demanding, authoritative tone. The kind of voice that was going to tell you how it was and not accept any other answer. Her voice suddenly dropped. “Did you read it?”

You froze and stared at her with a bewildered expression, barely sputtering out “W-What?”

“The letter, kid. Did you read it?” she asked again.

You shook your head. “No. Maker, no.”

“Why not? I always told Mai to tell you if anything ever happened. You need to read it.”

“Tell me what?” you asked.

“K-kid-” Her holographic-like appearance started to fade away slowly.

“No, please. C’mon, stay.” you begged, feeling like a child as tears started to well up in your eyes.

“Read it.” was the last words spoken by her before she faded away completely, the hull of the ship going back to complete darkness.

You let out a shaky breath, looking down to find your hands trembling. You grabbed onto a crate, sitting down on it and letting your whole body sag. Your heart was racing a mile a minute, along with your mind. You still weren’t entirely convinced what had happened was real, and not a figment of your imagination or some complex dream. But she had seemed to real. Like she was there and close enough to touch. When she spoke to you, it was her. All the little quirks and the inflection of her tone had been identical to the woman you missed so much.

Your eyes slowly trailed from the spot on the floor you had been to looking at to the corner of the ship, where your bag laid. You could see the crumbled paper on top of it. What the hell was so important? If that was real, why had your grandmother done that just to tell you to read a letter? If it was so important, she should of tone you. If not back then, at least now she should have.

You should read it. You know that deep down. You started to rise slowly from your seat you took on the crate, you legs still trembling as you took one small step. You were about to take another when a small croak filled the space. You turned around to find the frog lady’s head peaking down from the cockpit, looking down at you. You made eye contact and she let out another small croak.

“You okay?” you quietly asked.

She let out another croak and her eyes followed the container of eggs that sat in the hull. You looked over at it and smiled softly. “They are okay.” you said, giving her a small thumbs up in hopes she understood that.

Another croak was let out and you sighed. “I’m coming up. Let’s go back to bed.”

You gave the letter one last glance before making your way to the ladder of the cockpit, climbing up it slowly.

____________

You had been wide awake when a small beeping sound began ringing out through the cockpit, emitting it’s way into the rest of the ship. You looked over at the frog woman to find her still asleep, seeming to be undisturbed by the noise as small snores that sounded like small croaks left her. Your head turned back to the dash of the ship, looking at all the buttons and controls. You eyes met the comm and you raised an eyebrow, looking out the window to see nothing out of the ordinary.

A clanking of metal rang out and you looked back at Din who pulled himself into the Crest. You slowly brought a single finger up to your lip, indicating for him to be quiet as your head gestured to the frog lady. “She’s still asleep.”

Din nodded. “What happened?” he softly asked.

You shrugged, pulling yourself out of the drivers seat so he could slip into it. “Wasn’t us. I think it’s someone trying to comm you.”

Din grunted and a small smile made it’s way onto your face. You were sure he was pleased to not only be woken up, but woken up by somebody trying to talk to him. Din flicked on the comm as you rested a hand on his shoulder. Part of you had wanted to crawl into his cot after the bizarre happenings from earlier. Let his arms envelop you and spread a warmth through your body you had never felt before. But you decided against it, still feeling it was best to stay with the new passenger and let Din sleep.

“Razor Crest, M-One Eleven. Come in, Razor Crest. Do you copy?” a voice rang out into the pit.

You once again looked back at the lady, seeing her still asleep and funny enough, it slightly reminded you of the child. Sometimes he’d wake up at the slightest noise. You could make one step and he wouldn’t fall asleep for the rest of the night. But other times, he could sleep through anything. A TIE fighter could probably soar past and he’d still peacefully sleep through it, like nothing was happening.

“This is Razor Crest. Is there a problem?” Din asked. Your hand tightened onto his shoulder and he leaned into it slightly.

“We noticed your transponder is not emitting.” The man spoke again.

“Yes, I’m pre-Empire surplus. I’m not required to run a beacon.”

“That was before. This sector is under New Republic jurisdiction. All craft are required to run a beacon.” You raised an eyebrow, looking over at Din who just shrugged.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll get right on it.” he responded.

“Not a problem. Safe travels.”

“May the Force be with you.” You looked over at Din, both eyebrows raised high as you nearly laughed. You had never even heard the man say that once. If anything, you were convinced that he used to not believe if the Force, thinking it was a whole bunch of gibberish until the kid walked into his life.

“And also with you.” the man responded, cutting out.

“May the Force be with you?” you quietly asked, smiling down at where he sat.

“Isn’t that what they say?” Din said, his hands landing on your hips softly as he turned his seat towards you.

“Yeah but I’ve never heard you say that.” You nearly yelped when he pulled you down onto his lap with his hands still clutching onto you. You tossed your head over to look at the frog lady who was still asleep. “Mando, she is right there.”

“Say my name.”

You looked at him with a soft smile, placing a kiss on his helmet which made him let out a small hum that filled your heart with joy. “Din, she is right there.”

Din let out another small noise, pulling you closer onto him. “I don’t care. I miss sleeping in a bed with you.”

“Me too. But we will-”

The beeping resumed, interrupting you. You let out a small whine, slipping off of Din’s lap and warm embrace as he turned towards the comm. Before flipping it on, Din let out an aggravated grunt.

“Just one more thing.” The man’s voice from earlier rang out into the ship again.

“Yes?” Din curtly said, shaking his head.

“I’m gonna need you to send us a ping. We’re out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts.”

Your head whipped over to look at Din, his helmet still trained forwards. You couldn’t send out a ping.

“I’ll let you know if I see any.” Din responded but you knew it wouldn’t be good enough. They were going to insist.

“I’m still gonna need you to send us that ping.” the man countered.

“Well, I’m not sure I have that hardware online.” Din said but even you could see through that lie.

“We can wait.”

Din finally looked at you, seeming to be contemplating what his options were. You slowly mouthed ‘what do we do?’ but Din seemed to settle on a decision shortly. “Yeah...I...I...doesn’t seem to be, uh, working.”

“That’s too bad. If we can’t confirm you’re not Imperial, you’re gonna have to follow us to the outpost at Adelphi. They’ll run your tabs.”

Fuck, no. No. You couldn’t stop at Adelphi. You had this women’s eggs and the child and Din.

“Oh, wait. There it is. Transmitting now.” Din said but you just saw him flip the auto-pilot switch off. You stepped back, leaning against the wall in anticipation of what was next.

The frog lady then decided it was a good time to wake up, letting out a loud croak as she looked over at you two. “Be quiet!” you and Din both simultaneously whispered at her.

“What was that?”

“Uh, nothing. The hypervac is drawing off the exhaust manifold.” Din excused, but you rolled your eyes. Din knew his way around a ship well enough to know that was a shit excuse.

The frog lady continued croaking, not seeming to catch a hint. Din looked over at her and you could feel the annoyance radiating off him. You snapped your fingers, bringing her eyes to look at you and held your finger up to your lips, trying to gesture to her to be quiet. But she didn’t seem to catch a hint, croaking back at you and bringing her own finger up to her mouth in confusion.

“Carson, can you switch over to channel two?” Another man’s voice spoke out, causing the woman to finally quiet down as she looked at the comm where the source of the noise came from.

“Copy.” the other man spoke.

You looked at Din, seeing his hands ghost over the accelerator. “Oh, shit. Hold on.” you said, clutching onto the passengers seat.

Din hit it, beginning to soar through the galaxy at a terrifying speed that made the frog lady begin wailing in fear. You held on tightly, feeling your body plop down onto the ground from the abrupt change in speed. Din suddenly began dropping to a nearby planet, causing your butt to lift off the ground and the frog lady begin to croak with a very anxious tone. Din soared over the clouds as the cockpit to the ship began to shake.

“Mando, this isn’t good!” you yelped but Din paid no mind to your words.

“Razor Crest, stand down. We will fire. I repeat, we will fire.” A man warned and you cursed.

Din whipped around a corner, pulling the ship which caused it to tremble even more. “The Crest can’t handle this!” you called.

“It’s going to have to.” Din grunted, bringing his hands off the accelerator. You let out a deep breath until you saw him turn the engines off.

“Mando!”

The ship instantly began to plummet, dropping down into the clouds and revealing more of the icy planet Din had flown so close to. The frog lady began to full-on scream, her voice filling the cockpit and drowning out any thoughts you had. Glaciers began to finally fill the view of the pit and Din then engaged the engines again, flying down into a canyon.

“Oh, fuck. Are we going to die?” you yelled.

Din continued to fly through the canyon, narrowly avoiding jagged icicles that could easily shear into the metal of the ship. “Come on, Razor Crest, don’t make us do it.” a man spoke again.

The Crest whipped around a bend and straight towards a cavern which the back side of the ship slams into, causing all three of you to grunt. You looked up at Din, seeing his chest fall and rise quickly. You realized he was just as nervous as you, just more quiet about it. “Hold on.” he said.

“Oh, now we have to hold on...” you muttered sarcastically, grabbing onto the chair even more (which you didn’t think was possible). You tried to anchor your feet onto the ground, still sitting on the floor and thinking how the Crest needed a third seat. The frog lady responded with a grunt and croak and you thought how she was probably regretting getting on this ship.

The Crest began to slam into more glaciers, causing the ship to shake and all of your to jerk about. It then began to slide along a sheet of ice. Din tried to turn on the engines so it could shoot up but it it just slammed into more ice until coming to a stop under an overhang.

Din began panting, along with you, relieved that the ship was hidden away and had finally stopped moving. You couldn’t help but to notice the chill that had filled the ship, your body shivering and the hair on your arms begin to stand up. You hesitantly let go of the arm of the chair, wrapping yourself up with your own arms as you tried to not let yourself dwell too much on the cold.

“I’ve lost visual. He’s got to be around here somewhere. You head north. We’ll cover more ground.” The voice barely crackled through the comm, cutting out which was a good sign. Meant they were far enough.

“Fucking hell.” You muttered, looking at Din who was pushing and flicking an assortment of buttons.

“You okay, sweet one?” Din asked, finally looking over at you.

You smiled weakly. “Oh, just dandy.”

“And your friend?”

You looked over at the frog lady, who was gasping and groaning, beginning to rise from her seat. “I think she is just worried about her eggs.” you softly said.

Before you could ask how he was, loud cracks filled the space. It took you a second to realize it was the ice which meant...

You couldn’t warn Din of what was to come before it was too late and the ship broke through the ice, dropping down. You could hear everything in the ship tumbled about and your mind instantly went to the child. Oh, shit. He was probably in his bed with the door shut but you felt fear consume you entirely. The ship suddenly dropped down, causing everyone to slam forward. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain your in your head before everything turned back, your body falling back.

____________

Din let out a loud groan as he slowly blinked his eyes. His whole body was aching and his back was screaming in pain. His mind felt groggy and clouded as he slowly lifted his helmet from where it had landed. He blinked more quickly as he shook his head, letting out more grunts as he tried to become more aware. Last thing he remembered was falling and the frog lady’s screaming. And his cyar’ika...

“Fuck.” Din grunted, whipping his head around (not the best choice on his part) and looking down. He dropped from the chair, crawling down on the small space of the floor where she laid as flecks of snow fell off him. A large bruise was already forming on her head, probably from slamming into the back of his chair or something. She hadn’t been in a seat so she had taken the brunt of the force. Din felt his hands shake as he clutched her, pulling her closer to his chest and leaning her head against it, patting softly at her hair. “Sweet one, wake up. Please be okay.”

Din felt instant relief flood through him as she grunted, her eyes barely opening and seeming to not register what was in front of her. She let out a small cough and Din felt her whole body was shaking, whether from the crash or from the cold he didn’t know. Din held on tighter to her, bringing his cape over his body so some of it could drape over her. “Cyar’ika, are you okay?”

She groaned again, her eyes now blinking some more as she began to make out the shape of his helmet. Behind him he heard the frog lady begin to croak and groan in a painful manner, bringing herself up with the assistance of the chair. Din didn’t look over though, his eyes trained on the woman in his arms. “F-fuck.” she finally muttered, her eyes looking up at him as she slowly brought a hand up to rub at the bump on her head.

“I’m sorry, sweet one.” Din said, pulling her closer and feeling guilty as he saw the injury on her head. He slowly let a hand graze her cheek.

“I hate this ship.” She sputtered. Din let out a small chuckle, glad to see one of the corners of her lips quirk up into the lopsided smile he had come to love so much. “And you are good at crashing this thing.”

“Are you okay?” Din asked.

Her eyes looked up at his softly until her whole body jerks and her eyes widen, a terror stricken look coming over. She suddenly pulled away, flopping over to her hands and knees so she start to stand up, her legs shaking. “The...the kid!”

“Sweet one, sit down. You probably have a concussion and you-” Din couldn’t finish before she was flailing down the ladder of the cockpit, thumping on the ground with a groan. Din rose from his spot on the floor, looking over to see the frog lady looking at him, croaking in distress. Din sighed, realizing she was I’ll find your eggs, don’t worry. Gotta get you some blankets, keep you warm.”

Din dropped down the ladder, letting out a loud groan as he saw a huge hole through the side of the Crest, letting into a flurry of snowflakes. Sparks flew from various areas of the ship and everything was coated in a layer of snow and ice. It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours that they had been passed out, but the temperature of the ship had dropped considerably and the layer of ice proved how dangerous this terrain was. “Damn it.”

The frog croaked again from the cockpit and Din sighed. “Hang on, I’m looking for your eggs!”

“No! How?” He suddenly heard his cyar’ika speak. He looked over to see her standing up barely, her whole upper half hunched forward as a hand held back a piece of cloth. Din made his way over, making it to her side to find the child with the egg canister and... dammit, an egg in his hand.

“No. No... I told you not to do that.” Din scolded, bending down to close the canister and picks it up. He looks over to find his cyar’ika with a bewildered expression on her face, staring down at the child in disbelief who innocently looks up.

“We crash. Nearly die. And this kid is eating children like nothing happened! Look at him, he looks fine!”

Din also felt a little shocked as he looked down at the child, who appeared to have sustained no injuries nor shock from the events, just holding onto one single egg. He looked as happy as ever, perhaps a little disappointed his favorite snack had been taken, but no signs of distress otherwise

The frog lady croaked again and Din looked to find his cyar’ika whimper. “We found them!” Din called out.

“We have to tell her that our kid is a murderer.” Din tried to ignore the way his heart warmed at the way she said ‘our kid’, instead opting for a small smile she couldn’t see.

“He isn’t a murder-” Din was cut off with a slurping noise, looking down as the child swallowed the egg whole. “How many did you eat?”

The child let out a small burp as he swallowed down the egg.

“What were you saying?” she sarcastically said, looking over at Din with a critical expression.

“It’s fine.”

“She is going to notice her children are missing! Her poor little baby eggs! They had their whole lives ahead of them...” she trailed off with a small whimper.

Din sighed. “You grab the child. Let’s bring her the eggs.”

Din began to walk back to the cockpit, hearing her scold the child she now held in her arms. “You did a very bad thing. Very bad. I know they are a fun color but they aren’t a snack! They are little baby eggs and you are eating them like a monster. Oh Maker, you don’t even understand me, do you? Or you don’t care cause you are a tyrant...”

Din couldn’t help but to chuckle as he listened in.

____________

“Are you okay?”

“If you ask that one more time, I will fight you. And I promise you that it will be very embarrassing to be beaten by a concussed mechanic.” You said with a small smile, staring at the bunch of wires you were twiddling away with. The Crest was a disaster, no other way to put it. There was no way you would be able to put it back to normal by yourself or with the limited amount of tools at your disposable. This would be a job for a mechanic whose talents far exceeded your own. Your goal was just to make the ship flyable at the very least and make sure it didn’t explode into a million pieces even if the ship could make it off the ground.

“I’m being serious.” Din said softly, crouching down to bend next to you. You looked over, gazing lovingly into his visor and brought your hand up to pat at it. Din had been manically asking you if you were okay and how you were ever since the crash from earlier. You definitely sustained a concussion and one of your ankles had a sharp shooting pain that ran through it and was very possibly broken. Not having been in a seat when the accident happened was a big mistake on your part but what was done was done. You had wanted to focus your efforts immediately on fixing the ship and helping Din repair as much of the damage as possible, despite his desperate pleading for you to lay down and not move an inch. You had won that argument but Din kept sending long glances your way and rushing to your side if the slightest whimper left your lips. You wouldn’t admit it as to not embarrass him, but it was perhaps the most endearing thing you had ever seen.

“I am fine. My head hurts a little but it’s okay.”

“I mean, besides the head. You seem off.”

The crazed events of the day so far had combined with the events of the night before to create an almost nauseatingly overwhelming sensation through your whole body. You couldn’t even begin to think about what had happened without feeling so completely perplexed. Part of you was still convincing yourself it had been a dream. It wasn’t your grandmother, but a mere fragment of your mind playing cruel games with your emotions. But it had seemed so real and you couldn’t stop thinking about it, even with how busy you were trying to keep your mind preoccupied with the ship and making sure the child didn’t commit any more genocide.

“I had a weird dream or something... Guess it’s still on my mind.” you mumbled, shrugging.

“What was it?”

“It was... just my grandmother and the letter.” your voice drifted off as your eyes widened. “Shit! The letter!”

You hadn’t even thought to look for the letter once the ship was damaged. But there had been a gaping whole in the side of it with winds coursing through, winds that could of snatched the letter away before you had the chance to read past the first paragraph. You tried to jump up from the spot on the floor where you had been sat but your body fumbled on the way up, your face scrunching up in pain as you put pressure on your ankle.

“Sweet one, be careful.”

“I need to make sure the letter is still here. And my bag. Oh Maker, my bag!” you yelped. The frog lady sat in the ship looked up, croaking in confusion as to your newly frazzled state.

You waved your hand at her and began to limp towards where your bag had been, wincing every time your ankle even grazed the ground. “Your ankle is broken.”

“Meh, it’s not.” you grunted, trying to hide your pained expression but Din stayed by your side, keeping his hands close to your body in case you fell. Once you reached your bag, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw the crinkled paper, sitting there with a light coating of snow layered over it’s folds. You slowly dropped to your knees, grabbing the letter and lightly dusting away the cold flakes. “Okay. Good.”

“Are you going to read it?”

You shoved the letter back into your bag and shook your head. “Not right now. One day though.”

“You sure?” Din asked.

“Yeah. Now isn’t the time.” you began to rise from your spot, trying your best to apply as little pressure as possible to your ankle. But despite your best efforts, your head was spinning from some of the sudden movement and you tumbled forward, landing on your ankle. You let out a loud hiss. “Dank farrik!”

Din rushed to you, grabbing onto and pulling you up slowly. He let out a grunt and murmured, “What were you saying about it not being broken?”

“Shut up.” you muttered, allowing Din to lead you to the small cot you had once used as a bed so he could set you down. “No. I need to work!”

“You need to rest. We all do.” Din commanded, laying your blanket over you softly.

You shook your head, letting out a grunt. “Bah, rest is for the weak.”

“You have a concussion and broken ankle.”

“You say that one more time, tin can.” you warned, aiming a somewhat playful finger at him.

Before Din had the chance to speak, the child who had been sat on the floor let out a loud coo that captured your attention. You looked over at him to find him waddling towards your outstretched legs, big eyes looking up at you in concern. “I’m fine, little guy.” you cooed back, feeling your heart warm a little from his adorable expression.

The child let out another garbled noise, eventually reaching your feet and resting a hand on your injured ankle. You let out a small hiss at the contact, expecting the child to pull back but he looked back at you with a look you an inexplicable look. You had always felt a deep connection with the little one, one that sometimes confused you. Part of you hoped it was just that you two had a natural inclination towards each other but another knew deep down it had to do with the Force. Perhaps it was simply because you were the first person he had seen in who knows how many years who had the same thing he did. Or maybe it was the mysterious way of the Force that brought you two together. But as you looked at him and felt his little three-fingered hand settle onto the skin of your ankle, you felt a peace and understanding wash over you that felt deeply shared.

The next thing you felt was a deep warmth throughout your ankle. Not the sharp heat that accompanied the pain like you had been feeling but a beautiful warmth, like a hug from a person you loved or the sun on the first day of summer. You didn’t know how long the child had done it for. Whether it was a minute or multiple minutes or only mere seconds but once his little hand pulled away, you felt like you had been broken out of trance.

You blinked a few times dumbly as the kid wobbled slightly and landed on his butt, his eyes drooping as he let out a small yawn. “The kid just-just...”

“Yeah. He has done that before.”

You whipped your head around to look at Din. “He has?”

Din nodded. “I think it’s his magic powers or something.”

You looked back at the child. No pain longer radiated throughout your ankle. You rotated it with ease, no sharp throbbing accompanying the movement like it had been. It was as if nothing had even happened. You didn’t know exactly what is was called but you knew the child had used the Force to heal you. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how but the sensation you had felt was one you had experienced before. One your Grandmother had used on you when you were on the brink of death. One that had taken everything from her.

But the child that sat before was fine. Tired but seemed perfectly healthy and even gave you a small smile as you continued to look at him. “He really is powerful.” you mumbled under your breath.

“I’m going to get the frog lady from the cockpit. We all need to rest and eat.” Din said.

You nodded dumbly, eyes still trained on the child as Din rose from his spot on the floor and made his way to the ladder.

____________

“If you hadn’t guessed, we’re in a tight spot.” Din stated as he tidied up a few small things. The frog lady that sat across from you in the hull stared plainly up at him, her tongue whipping out in a flash to catch food from the container that Din had given her.

You let out a small sigh as Din continued. “The main power drive is not responding, and the hull has lost its integrity. I suspect the temperature will drop significantly when night falls.”

“Pretty much this is a complete and utter shit show in every way.” you said, huddling further into the blankets Din had given you. Despite your ankle being healed by the child, he had insisted on you relaxing for the rest of the night, stating how he could handle the last few things on his own.

You looked over at the kid who sat next to you with a small box of food in his lap. But instead of eating it quickly like he normally did, he practically swooned as he stared at the container of eggs that sat next to the frog lady. You let out a scoff and tapped his little arm, but not even that could break him from the trance of his new-found favorite snack. “Stop being a demon.” you whispered at the child, giving the frog lady a guilty smile as she looked over at you.

“I’ll have a better idea of our prospects tomorrow.” Din continued. You wondered if he was speaking to the frog lady in hopes she could understand or just to fill the space, clear his thoughts. Either way, the sound of his voice made a soft smile dance across your lips as he finally brought himself down to the floor, sat closely next to you. The child waddled over to him as you felt his thigh brush against your leg and his shoulder press into you. He leaned his head back against the wall of the ship, letting out a small sigh.

“Mando.”

“Yes?”

“I lo-”

You were interrupted by the frog lady letting out a loud croak, gesturing to her eggs as she continued to speak. Your face softened as you saw her concerned expression and you couldn’t understand the words, but there was passion behind them.

“I’m sorry, lady. I don’t understand Frog. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning. I recommend you get some sleep.“ Din said. The child crawled onto his thigh, settling into the armor. The frog lady let out a defeated croak, bringing a blanket to her container of eggs to wrap it, protectively patting it.

You gave her a soft smile. “I’m sorry but I promise we are trying our best.”

She let out another small croak, settling back into her space and closing her eyes as a hand stayed on her container of eggs. You also leaned back, looking over at Din. You watched his chest rise and fall evenly, falling into a slow pattern that you admired. You brought a hand out from your blanket, sneaking into over to Din’s hand that rested against the floor. You gently grazed his gloved fingers and Din made the next move, his warm leather hands grabbing onto your own and intertwining the fingers. You smiled softly as you let him pull you just slightly closer to him, his hand squeezing yours in a way that made your heart burst. Your eyes drifted to the child, who was now tucked into the beskar plate on Din’s thigh and sleeping away peacefully.

“Sweet one?” Din whispered out and you looked up at him to see his helmet tilted down to look at you.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Tag List: @ilikethoseodds @dindaddy @poguesvixen @starspangledwidow @fangirlalexia @the-scandalorian @ka-x-in @keepcalmandblogstuff @the-lady-of-stars @orneryscandalousevil @spaghetti-666 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @the-darkempress @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @dee-vn @eury-dice3 @rb4writers @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @lxdyred @queen-since-97 @honey-hi @periptill @seninjakitey @guiltyegg @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @altarsw @itsaviicf @greeneyedblondie44 @buffnatalieportman @tanzthompson @archaeoheart @wintrrrsoldier @welcometothepedroverse

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Changed my update schedule to two times a week (probably Sunday and Wednesdays) because three days was kind of overwhelming hahah. Again, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and feedback!! I appreciate every single one!!!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Being shot at?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

The Pogues come over later to hang out like usual. No one mentions last night's party. I don't know whether its because they don't want to talk about it or we're pretending like it never happened. I'm fine with either.

I sit next to Kie who taps her fingers on a bongo and bobs her head to her own beat. Pope's shuffling a deck of cards to my right and JJ sips on another beer across from me. It's hard to concentrate on what they're talking about. I'm too busy locked in my own head, thinking about what Peterkin said - foster care - what life would be like if we were taken away. Would I ever see my friends again? Would John B and I be in the same foster home? The thought of being separated makes me sick.

"Look, I'm calling it off. All right?" John B pulls me out of my thoughts. JJ rolls his eyes at my brother and glances at me. "Peterkin said if we stay out of the marsh, she'll help us with DCS."

"And you believed her?" JJ asks. "An actual cop, John B. You believed a cop."

John B sighs. "All I gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days, and she'll help me out. It doesn't help that your ass was the one shooting a gun."

Here we go.

"You know what I should have done? Just let Topper drown your ass."

"Topper was gonna drown me?"

"Sure looked like it."

"Funny," John B deadpans.

"Have you looked in a mirror?"

"Tell me some more. Come on." I can tell by the look on John B's face that he's getting annoyed. It's pinched and he keeps rolling his eyes.

JJ steps closer to him. "They always win, don't they, man? Kooks versus Pogues. They always, always win!" He turns around and punches one of the small volleyballs we have tied in a string like a decoration.

"Look, it's okay!" Kie tries to calm him down.

"No, it's not okay! It's not! They don't want us to go down into the marsh." JJ comes back. "That means there's something valuable down there, and you know it." He turns to me and points. "I know you do." Then he looks at Pope. "I know you do. And I understand why you don't wanna go. You're the golden boy. You got way too much to risk. And you -" He turns to Kie. "I mean, you're already rich as fuck anyway. Why would you bother? But you and me, and Marleigh, man, we got nothing to lose! We really don't all right?"

"JJ -" I sigh.

"And I know it didn't use to be that way for you -"

John B shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about it!"

"So that's it?"

John B shoves past JJ. "Just get out of my way, bro."

"John B, listen to me. I have a plan." Well thats never good. "You got the key to Cameron's big boat right?"

"No," John B says, already knowing where JJ's head is at.

"There's scuba gear. We borrow that, and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon, and that is what's gonna save you, man. You don't see rich kids going into foster care, do you?"

Here's the thing about JJ. He can be really convincing, which is usually the reason he and I get into the most trouble. Because I always fall for what he's saying. He gives me hope when I don't think there is any. He can be surprisingly optimistic sometimes. And when he is, I fall for his charm and agree with everything he says. If he told me to jump off a bridge, I probably would.

When he looks at me, my lips tug upwards into a smile. This creates a domino effect, and soon the other Pogues get excited. John B looks at me, trying to look disapproving but I shrug in response. I mean, JJ's right. What do we have to lose?

~ ~ ~

I light a match and ignite my gas stove to make myself lunch. A can of chicken noodle soup that's been in my food closet for who knows how long. John B left to grab the tanks from the Cameron's boat, so the rest of us are waiting here until he comes to pick us up.

"You're eating soup? Its like a hundred degrees outside." JJ walks into the kitchen and lifts himself up on the counter next to the stove.

I stir the liquid around with a wooden spoon and smirk. "Do you see any other edible food around here?" JJ chuckles at that. He knows better than anyone how horrible John B and I are at food shopping. "I meant to go to the store today but..." I sigh. "I've been busy."

JJ pauses, causing me to look up at him. He's usually so quick with his wit and humor. Something I admire and love about him. How he always manages to put a smile on my face with some dumb remark or a sarcastic reply. Only now he's staring at me with curiosity. "Are you okay?"

"You mean other than the impending doom that is foster care that's going to hit me and John B in the near future?" I say sarcastically. I turn the stove off and grab two bowls out of the cabinet behind JJ's head. He ducks for me and my waist presses against his thigh. I pour half the soup in each bowl and hand him one with a spoon.

"Yeah, I mean other than that," JJ says. I blow on the liquid on my spoon to cool it down. The steam that comes up from my bowl already makes me feel hot.

"I'm fine," I tell him.

He gives me a look that says he's doesn't believe me, but I ignore it and he doesn't press me on it. Truth is, I am fine. I just have a lot of my mind but I'm going to do my best not to let it ruin my summer. JJ got me excited again. He's promising an adventure and possibly a fortune. He's right. John B and I have nothing to lose. If we don't go on the marsh today, DCS will find another reason to snatch us. So why hold ourselves back?

"Mar, JJ, he's back!" Kie calls out to us from my yard.

JJ sips the last of his broth out of the bowl and I shovel in the last couple of scoops into my mouth. We throw the bowls in the sink and run to the dock where John B and the others are waiting for us.

Pope directs John B to the part of the marsh where we found the wreck. I sit next to Kie in the front of the boat. She's looking at the two tanks that John B was able to snag off the Cameron's boat. Her brows are furrowed in confusion as she studies the gear.

"This is empty," Kie says, looking up at my brother who stops the boat when we find the sunken Grady-White. "You took empty tanks?"

"I..." John B says slowly. He definitely didn't look at it before he took it.

"Okay, this one's a quarter full," Kie says, pulling the tank to her left closer to her. "Its enough for one of us."

"Love it when a plan comes together," I say sarcastically and pass a look to JJ who rolls his eyes.

"Does anybody know how to dive?" Kie asks.

I purse my lips and look around at my friends and brother. None of them speak up.

"Uh..."

"Anybody?" Kie asks.

"It's kind of a Kook sport," I say.

Pope raises his hand. "I...read about it."

"Great, Pope read about it so someone's gonna die," Kie says.

JJ walks towards us and picks up the mouth piece and shrugs his shoulders. "Look, you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?"

Pope answers, "If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood, and you get the bends."

JJ glances between Pope and the rest of us. "Bends like..." JJ bends forward, purposely sticking his butt out, "bend over and..."

Pope cuts him off. "The bends kill you."

JJ snaps straight up. "Right."

I roll my eyes and stand up. "I'll do it."

"Uh, I don't think..." JJ starts to say but my brother cuts him off.

"No. I'll do it."

"What, why?" I turn to my brother and send him a glare.

"Because Pope just said it can kill you and you don't listen to instructions very well." My brother glares back at me. I roll my eyes. He does have a point and evidence to prove it. I usually follow my own gut and ignore others' directions. And because I don't want him to bring up past events, I decide not to fight him on it.

"He has a point," JJ says, earning a punch in the bicep from me. He looks at my brother. "You can dive. I'm cool with that."

"Since when can you dive?" Kie says not liking the idea any more than me.

He shrugs. "I'll do it. It's fine."

"Let me do some calculations real quick," Pope says as John B starts putting on the scuba gear.

"You serious?" JJ asks.

"That boat's about thirty feet down. Okay? So it'll take twenty five minutes at that depth. Twenty five. Which means you need to make your safety stop at about...ten feet."

Contrary to popular belief, I do the actual listening to instructions, I just don't always follow through. But I process everything Pope just said and think of a way to make this easier for John B.

I shimmy out of my jean shorts and pull my top over my head, leaving me in a purple and white striped bikini. Without saying anything, I jump into the water with my shirt.

"Uh..." Pope says, looking into the water where I just disappeared. "What was that about?"

"I don't know. But I liked it. A lot," JJ says, staring at the same spot. John B slaps the back JJ's head and glares daggers in his direction. JJ pretends to clear his throat and turns away from John B. "Uh, so..."

Pope pretends to focus on his calculations again, not wanting to get caught by John B for staring at his sister too. "Yeah. Uh, when you uh, when you're down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?"

I guesstimate how deep ten feet is and tie my shirt around the chain attached to our anchor. I look one last time at the blurry image of the sunken boat and pull myself back up.

"Hey," I say to grab their attention. They all look at me. "I tied my T-shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down. It's where you need to do your safety stop."

John B nods. "Cool."

I stay in the water, loving how the water feels around me like a protective blanket. I listen to Pope explain the important parts of diving. There's some kind of meter he has to pay attention to to keep track of time.

"Okay, how much do I need?" John B asks.

"Unclear," Pope answers. "Breathe as little as possible."

JJ slaps John B on the shoulder. "Zen. Think zen, you know?"

John B turns to the water, preparing to jump in next to me. "Yeah. Got it."

"Hey," Pope says, stopping him. "If we get caught in the marsh, we're basically screwed, so better get a move on."

"No pressure or anything," I add.

"Copy that," John B says.

Kie approaches my brother and stands in front of him. She's really close to him, almost inches away from his face. Then she leans in and kisses his cheek slowly. Way more intimate than usual. My eyes widen in surprise and I look at Pope and JJ to see their reaction. They mirror mine.

"Diver down?" Kie says softly.

"Diver down." John B says just as softly.

"See ya, dude," JJ says.

John B jumps in the water and sinks down below me. I lay on my back in the water and bathe in the warmth of the sun above me. I even close my eyes, letting relaxation overcome me. I could probably sleep here if I wanted too.

"Shit, JJ," Pope curses, catching my attention.

"Guys, that's the police," Kie says.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," JJ says, glancing at me.

My eyes go wide with anxiety. I swim closer to the boat and look up at JJ. "JJ, they can't know I'm here. If they find me-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's gonna be okay. They're not going to, just stay there."

I nod and press myself tighter against the boat.

"Just act freaking normal," Kie says through clenched teeth.

I can hear the sirens coming closer until I feel their boat bump against ours. I flinch against it and kick my feet faster to stay afloat. I look down at the water, but I can't see John B. My heart races at the thought of him running out of air.

"Evening," I hear one of the cops greet my friends.

"JJ, tie it off," Pope says.

"How you kids doing? You know the marsh is closed?" The officer asks them.

"No."

"No. Wow."

My friends play dumb. I look up, finding comfort in seeing JJ's long hair. I can tell he's trying hard not to look down at me.

"Why - why is it closed?" Pope asks.

"Well, we're conducting a search out here. Boat went down." The officer explains.

"Oh."

"See anything?"

"No." JJ purses his lips and shrugs.

"No boats," Kie says. "No."

There's a pause and for a split second I think he's gonna call their bluff. But he doesn't. "Where are the other two kids you always hang with? The twins? They here?"

I bite my bottom lip hard in anticipation for what's to come. He knows we're here. He has to. I can tell by how suspicious he sounds. I look back down in the water, John B still invisible to me. I don't know how much time he has left, but he's definitely running out of it.

"They both had to work," I hear Kie answer.

"Hm," The officer hums. "I'm gonna check your little boat out."

Shit, shit, shit, shit. I look around for a place to hide, but the only thing surrounding me is water. I'm going to have to go under.

"Yeah." JJ coughs, risking one last look at me before pretending to help the officer into the boat. "Yeah, hop aboard."

I push myself under the water and swim directly underneath the boat. I open my eyes, ignoring the sting of the salt water. I can see John B's silhouette by my T-shirt and the blurry light of his timer.

Thirty more seconds pass. I swing my arms upwards, pushing myself deeper into the water. The shadow of the cops' boat is still next to ours. My lungs are screaming at me for for air like they're tearing into my chest. Just like John B, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to last down here.

My body reactively gulps for air, forcing myself to swallow the salt water. It feels like a stab in my chest, my throat on fire. I've got to pop back up to the surface or I'm going to drown.

Just as I'm about to reveal myself, the shadow of the boat drives off. I push myself up, coughing up the water I swallowed and gasping for air. Less than a second later, John B pops up next to me.

"Oh, god! Jesus Christ," Kie says with her eyes closed and her head looking up.

"Don't scare us like that!" Pope says.

JJ watches me instead of John B, concern laced into his features. As I feel my heart go back to its normal pace, I smile at him and laugh the anxiety off. "You good?" He asks me. I nod and let him help me back up to the boat. "How'd it go down there?" He asks my brother. "Did you find anything?"

"Did I find anything?" John B scoffs and holds up a dark velvet bag.

"Yeah, there we go!" JJ claps his shoulders. "That's my boy!"

"Jeez, dude," Pope sighs.

"You okay?" Kie asks John B.

John B pants as he swims closer to the boat. "Yeah, I ran out of air."

"You and me both," I tell him.

John B pulls himself up. When he stands, he's met face to face with Kie who shoves him back playfully. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh...we took care of 'em." Pope says, trying to act like he wasn't going to piss his pants the entire time he was talking to them.

"My bad," John B laughs.

"You're all good."

"Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother," JJ says.

I move to the back of the boat to ring my wet hair out when something catches me eye. Its another boat, but it doesn't look like the one the cops were just using.

"Hey, guys? Guys!" I call louder to grab their attention. "Bogey, two o'clock."

"What?" JJ comes up next to me and eyes the boat that's making its way closer to us.

"Do you recognize the boat?" Pope asks.

"I've never seen it," I answer.

A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I can make out two people, I think men, standing in the front. They keep their eyes straight on us. No laughing or talking like a couple of buds would on a boat day in the marsh.

"What are they doing here? The marsh is closed," Kie says.

"Let's not stick around and find out." JJ places his hands on my bare waist and pulls me to the side so he can pull up the anchor.

"JJ get the bowline," John B says, not realizing that JJ was already on it.

"Yeah."

"Should we wait on 'em?" Pope asks.

"No. No. We should leave now. Right now," Kie says, looking directly at John B.

"Go get the stern," John B tells me. "Go!"

I kneel next to JJ and help him. Similar to how I felt in the water, my heart beats violently against my chest and my breathing becomes static. I try not to think of the fear that creeps through my veins as I help release the boat from it's hold in the marsh.

"Guys, don't wait for us! Go!" JJ yells.

"Go!" Kie says.

"Pull out the stern!" Pope yells at us.

I yank the chain hard, revealing the slimy anchor covered in seaweed and moss.

"I don't like this," I mutter to JJ between clenched teeth.

John B pulls away from the wreck. JJ looks between me and the boat that still driving in our direction. "Are they coming for us?"

"Maybe they're fishing," Pope says.

"Go, go, go, go!"

"Go into the marsh," I tell my brother, constantly glancing between him and the other boat.

"Let's go," Kie says. I can hear fear creep into her voice and her hands shake around the drivers seat she's holding with a death grip.

"I'm going. Act natural!" John B hisses and revs the engine of the boat.

He takes a left turn into the marsh. I watch anxiously for the people in the other boat to make its move.

They turn left.

"Guys, they're following us!" Kie says.

"This can't be good," Pope says.

"Dude, you gotta go faster!" JJ says.

"I'm going!" John B yells back.

"Gun it!"

I look behind the boat. They're getting closer. Too close. Can't say I'm surprised. The HMS Pogue is no match for their boat that looks more expensive than my house. However, something catches my eye. Something long the guy in the passenger seat is holding and pointing right at us.

"Is that..." I mutter before I'm cut off by exactly what I was going to say.

The gun shot rings through my ears as if the person who shot it was standing next to me. Before I can react, JJ pulls me down to the floor of our boat by my waist and covers me with his own body. I gotta say, this isn't how I pictured him being on top of me. His left arm outlines my head, keeping me face down while other bullets pass our boat. The cries of my friends are dull through the blood pounding in my ears and my heart inching its way up my throat.

"Holy shit!" Kie shouts.

"John B, get down!" JJ yells.

I try looking up at my brother but JJ's hold is strong. John B's still behind the wheel, trying his best to duck from bullets without crashing the boat.

"We're gonna die!" Pope yells.

I try looking around the boat for anything we can use against these guys. Of course JJ decides to leave the gun he stole at my house for the day, leaving us practically useless against these two strangers.

My eyes find a net pooling in front of Kie's face as she keeps her head down. I try crawling out of JJ's embrace which only makes him tighten his arms around me.

"Kie!" I shout. She looks up at me with wide eyes. "The net!"

Immediately she understands what I'm trying to tell her. She pulls herself away from Pope and army crawls to the wide net. This only makes my friends yell at her, telling her to get down, but she doesn't listen.

"Get down, Kie!" John B shouts.

Another gun shot echoes through the air, making me flinch closer into JJ.

Kie throws the net overboard towards their boat and drops back down to her knees. The sound of the other boat's engine clanging against the net gets my head to perk up and I watch Kie's reaction. She's surprisingly smiling. When she looks at me, she lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head in disbelief because that just worked. Their boats gets stuck.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go," Pope says.

One last gun shot rings through my ears before we make our getaway. I pull myself off the floor and look back at the boat one last time. We severely underestimated how important finding that boat was. Whatever John B found was worth killing us for.

A couple minutes later, John B pulls the boat up to the Chateau and docks it by the wooden slacks that I used as a bed last night. My friends cheer and actually smile after what just happened.

"That was insane!" Kie says.

"Whoo!"

I look at my brother with adrenaline rushing straight to me head. I feel giddy about finding out what JB found - what must be so important. "What do you think it is?"

"Gotta be money, right?" He asks, looking at me.

"That or a couple of keys with street value to the low-to-mid-mills," JJ says, leisurely danglingly his arm around my shoulders.

"Can we please just open the bag?" Pope says loudly, forcing everyone's attention at him who now looks at us sheepishly.

"Wow, Pope," John B laughs. "That's a rare outburst of emotion."

"Okay, you guys are literally killing me with anticipation," He says. "Open the bag!"

"Jeez." JJ whistles.

"We almost died over this," Pope says like its an explanation. But he's right. We did almost die for this, which is why I need to know what's in it now.

John B opens the velvet bag. Something heavier than money falls out of it with a thunk. Its round and metal. Dirty and dented. Physically ugly and maybe priceless, but it looks familiar. I narrow my eyes at it, trying to study it and rack my brain through where I've seen it before.

"Oh, wow. Yup. That's about right," Pope sighs at the sight of our treasure. "Good job, everybody. We found a compass."

The word compass hits me like a train and my body goes slack like my limbs just turned into jell-o. John B is already looking at me, shocked at the real meaning of what we just found. I push myself in front of JJ and look down at the object he's holding. Priceless maybe true to the others but not to me. Not to John B. This means everything.

JJ looks between John B and I and laughs nervously at our reactions. "Dude, what? It's not worth anything."

My brows furrow together in confusion as I try to wrap my head around how we just found our dad's possession on another man's boat. A dead man's boat. But I feel blank. Like someone just wiped all my thoughts and memories.

"This was our father's compass," I say emotionless, keeping my eyes on JB who looks equally as terrified.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @jeeperky @realistic-breadstick @moniamaybank @urbinoutfiters @brebear121 @x-lulu

#jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj fic #jj x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks #john b routledge #outer banks rewrite #jj maybank x oc #pope heyward #kiara carrera #obx fic #obx

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writerpeach · 4 years

Text

Roommates: Part One

IZ*ONE Hyewon X Male Reader

7813 words

Categories: smut, oral sex, detective! hyewon

18+

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

"Please come in."

The second meeting with Detective Kwon was eight days after the first. Thankfully, you were there under much more pleasant terms, trading being led in handcuffs to roaming freely, greeted with smiles, and offered coffee.

Instead of being tossed inside a windowless cold room, you were meeting Detective Kwon in her personal office, quite the inverse of scenery. Greeting you with a welcoming smile instead of threats, she offered a seat and you sat down, scanning the awards on her walls, the various cabinets, and files as you spotted a small piglet plush resting on one, not bothering to mention it.

You felt comfortable. You weren’t being yelled at or questioned, and you certainly weren’t fearing for your life or freedom. The detective engaged in polite conversation, her friendly tone putting you at ease as she inquired how you were handling the change of being on the opposite side of crime.

Detective Kwon had been promoted due to your cooperation, earning the rank of Chief Superintendent. Changing into a more supervisor role allowed her to command her team more efficiently but still allowed herself to do what she was best at, getting information out of uncooperative suspects in any way she knew how.

Eunbi had a different look since you last saw her, chopping her hair short which gave her a more youthful and vibrant look.

“You look good, detective,” you complimented, earning a blush from the sharply-dressed woman across the desk.

“Thank you. You know, we really owe a lot to you,” she said in earnest.

“I didn’t do much, detective. It turns out you can be a very convincing woman.”

“You gave us valuable information that would have taken us weeks to find.”

Shuffling around papers and organizing a dossier Eunbi looked up and her expression softened.

“But we still have a lot of work to do to take down your former boss. The Goda clan is in shambles. We’ve made several arrests lately, we have them on the run.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. To tell the truth, I was never comfortable with some of the things I saw during my time as a clan member. It still keeps me up at night.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What you’re doing has been very helpful, we couldn’t have done this without you.”

“If that asshole gets locked up then it’ll be more than worth it.”

“Now, there are still a few high ranking members we don’t know the location of,” Eunbi said and slid three pictures across the desk, two men you recognized and one you didn’t.

“Is there anything about them you can tell us?”

You studied their pictures before speaking. ”Never met this guy. These two were the boss’s right- hand men. When he needed someone taken out, a business shaken down for protection money or anything else that he didn’t want to dirty his hands for he used them as his errand boys.”

“Do you have their names?”

“Afraid not. I was too low down the totem pole to really know them.”

“That’s fine, we’ll work with what we have and I’ll make sure our investigation team makes this their priority. It might take longer but we’ll find these thugs.”

Eunbi smiled. It was different talking to her like this, cooperating with her, and not being threatened to spend the rest of your life behind bars.

“How are you holding up? This can’t be easy.”

“Like I said, some sleepless nights. A lot of looking behind my shoulder, thinking someone I swore loyalty to is coming after me. This is all I’ve known for most of my life, so being on the other side of things is hard to get used to.”

“That’s understandable. The monitoring app we installed on your phone tracks your location with pinpoint accuracy as long as you allow us to. If you ever end up in trouble you know how to activate it right?”

“I do, thanks, Detective. Let’s hope I never have to.”

“Yes, let’s hope. The sooner we can get these scumbags off the streets, the better we’ll all be.”

There was a sudden knock on the door that broke the tension.

“Come in!” Eunbi said.

The door gently swung open and in walked a petite girl, blue mixed into her dark bobbed hairstyle. “Sorry to barge in, boss.”

“It’s quite alright, Detective Miyawaki. You wouldn’t interrupt without a good reason.”

“We’ve got new leads on potential suspects. A stolen vehicle was spotted downtown in an abandoned warehouse, it appears it was used in last month’s weapon smuggling ring that was shut down.”

“And you’re sure they’re still there?”

“According to our surveillance, no cars have been in or out of the warehouse all day. There could be underground tunnels but that’s highly unlikely given the layout of the building .”

“Excellent work, Detective. Put out an APB immediately.”

“Right away, boss.”

The young girl bowed politely and left the room.

“We’re getting closer with each day thanks to you,” she said with a mild sense of relief in her voice.

“You have a good team here it seems.”

“It gets pretty stressful but they’re wonderful and I couldn’t do my job without them. Between forensics, our investigation team, and our computer analysts, there's about twelve of us working non-stop.”

“Impressive.”

“Now, I do need to talk to you about the security detail we promised you.”

“What about it?”

“As you can tell, we’re swamped. We need all the men and women we have working around the clock. At this moment we don’t have the resources to monitor who may be looking to harm you. We’re looking into a third-party security service to protect you but getting approval at a time like this is no easy task.”

“That’s really quite alright. I don’t leave my house much these days, and I have cameras all over my house.”

“No, it’s not, it was part of our terms and I won’t fall back on it. I can offer you an alternative, your safety is a necessity not just as part of our case against the Goda clan.”

“An alternative?”

“Yes,” she responded, pushing a button on the black phone on her desk. “Detective Kang, can you come to my office, please?”

Seconds after the door opened, and in walked an incredibly attractive woman with purple-dyed hair tied in a loose ponytail, dressed formally in a white shirt and gray jacket and almost as busty as Detective Kwon. She took a seat in the wooden chair next to you.

“This is the guy, Detective Kang.”

“Ah, so you’re the reason why we’re putting all these jackoffs in prison? It’s very nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand and shaking yours gently.

“Nice to meet you too, Detective.”

“Oh, you can just call me Hyewon,” she said with a shy smile.

“You see Detective Hyewon is the second-best detective here. She works really hard, she’ll be sure to surpass me soon.”

“That’s not likely boss. Nobody can interrogate like you can.”

Eunbi proudly smiled and quickly changed the subject. “Now, while we’re unable to offer you the protection we promised, we have an offer that’s a bit unorthodox.”

“How so?” you said with a puzzled look.

Hyewon spoke up. “We can’t monitor you 24/7 at this time but in lieu, I can offer you a safe place to stay.”

You furrowed an eyebrow in confusion.

“As I said, it’s a bit unorthodox but given the situation, we believe it’s a good compromise,” Eunbi said.

“You see, I have a spare bedroom that’s just collecting dust. Equipped with the latest home automation, reinforced windows, and a 24/7 monitoring system. My house is very secure and located away from all major parts of the city.“

“That’s a generous offer but I don’t need a babysitter.”

Eunbi laughed. “We’re not saying you do. These men are out for blood and we don’t know who might show up to confront you. Like you said you don’t get out much and Hyewon can do most of her investigative work from home. It’s a temporary solution, you shouldn’t be there for more than a month.”

“Along with my elite detective skills I spent two years in culinary school, I can cook as well as I can catch criminals,” Hyewon added nonchalantly.

“We won’t force you to live there of course, but you would be safer than at your own home.”

The two detectives looked at you, anticipating your answer. You gave it a moment to ponder over.

“I’ll give it a shot.”

“Thank you. Your safety is our number one priority.”

✦✦

Moving to a new place even temporarily with someone who was a complete stranger was a bit awkward, to say the least. You only brought essential items over to Hyewon’s place, surprised by how large it was and grateful for two separate bathrooms.

It was an understatement to say it was strange living with a beautiful woman you had just met. It took an entire week to adjust to the complicated situation, but each day that passed you both opened up little by little. It turns out Hyewon wasn’t lying, she was a fantastic cook and you had a multitude of things you shared in common.

The first week went by quicker than expected. Awkward exchanges of quiet good mornings gradually turned into full conversations, sharing stories of being on opposing sides.

Hyewon had plenty of tales to share of her short two year career - ranging from month-long investigations to chasing after suspects, to seeing a dead body for the first time. Hyewon shared the unexpected frustrations of being considered the prettiest woman in the station and having to prove that she wasn’t hired for just a pretty face.

After helping her clean up the intricate feast that was a most delicious breakfast, she took a seat on one of the kitchen island stools, refilling her coffee.

“I have to head into the office today to help out our team with some investigations. I’ll be working late most likely. You have both of our numbers if you need anything though, okay?”

“I’m not a puppy, I can survive one night,” you teased.

“I know, I wasn’t insinuating you were...” Hyewon replied as her awkwardness returned, her embarrassment strangely cute.

“The fridge is full of groceries but I didn’t have time to cook anything, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not that bad a cook myself, It’ll be fine. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Okay. Call if you need anything.”

✦✦

Hyewon’s spacious two-bedroom house felt rather lonely without her in it. You caught yourself talking a little too much to her living room virtual assistant, the eerily human voice being the only human contact you had that night meant it was time for something else.

Heading to the fridge to grab a soda you conducted your own investigation of your own, having free rein of the house you gave every room except her bedroom a look, well decorated with light red and pinks everywhere.

After watching a couple hours of tv and making a quick meal you decided to sleep early. In the morning Eunbi wanted you to come in and sign a few affidavits and you wanted to be fully prepared for that process.

When you woke up that morning something felt different. You didn’t quite know what time it was, but judging through the light shining through the sheer black curtains of your room it had to be at least 6 a.m.

As you struggled to adjust to consciousness, you couldn’t help realize the obvious weight and pressure on your body. Your vision cleared, and the unmistakable purple hair snuggled against your chest belonged to a feminine figure that could only belong to one woman. Hyewon.

While you enjoyed the comforting warmth of her body, you weren't sure what she was doing on top of you. She felt your movements and stirred awake and you were about to get your answer.

Hyewon lifted her head off of your chest, realizing where she was but not looking any less confused.

"Good morning?" you said, just as confused as her.

"H-hi…” she sleepily said. “I can explain…I think..."

"Take your time," you said.

Hyewon gathered herself and laid down beside you flat on her stomach.

"We had a late night and we didn't get much done yesterday. Our leads ended up as dead ends, so I didn't get home until around 2 am."

"Sounds rough."

"I washed up and going to my own bed seemed so lonely, and your door was open and well...your bed looked so welcoming and inviting. I only laid down for a few minutes but I guess I fell asleep and ended up on top of you and so here we are."

“Sure was an interesting way to wake up.”

"I'm so sorry,” she said as she buried her face in her hands.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Hyewon. It’s all cleared up now so I understand. I’m just sorry I woke you.”

"You didn't wake me. Well, part of you did but.."

She hesitated. "I felt something poking me when I was on top of you," Hyewon blushed.

"Oh god. Now I'm the one who should be sorry."

Hyewon giggled. "Is this the famous morning wood I've heard about? There's nothing to be sorry for..."

"Have you not-"

"Had sex before? I'm not a virgin, I've just never slept with a man before.”

“I see. Do you not like men?”

“I”m not against sleeping with men, I just haven’t had good experiences. Women are gentle and their skin is so soft and they smell amazing.”

“All of that is definitely true.”

“I’m just picky I guess. Meanwhile, Eunbi will sleep with anyone who will put their head between her thighs.”

“I bet that’s a very long line of people.”

“It is. I was at the top of it.”

“You were?”

“She...she was my first. I’ve only slept with a few women after her, and we still fool around from time to time when work doesn’t keep us busy.”

“And here I thought my morning wood was over.”

Hyewon blushed and covered her mouth, hiding against the mattress.

"I'm really sorry, I-"

"There's nothing to be sorry for. It happens…” you said embarrassed.

“I just like having someone to talk to in the morning,” Hyewon said.

“I do too.”

“Would you be okay…” she hesitated.

“With sharing the bed? I don’t mind.” you interrupted. “It’s plenty big for two people.”

“No I-I mean if y-you don’t want-”

“I don’t mind at all, Hyewon.”

Hyewon paused. “I probably snore though. And some days I’d have to get up before you do, I’d hate to wake you. “

“I’m a really heavy sleeper,” you said, trying to deflect her excuses.

“If you really don’t mind, then I’ll sleep here too. My room does get rather lonely…”

Sharing a smile, the thought of sharing a bed with Hyewon made your sudden arrangement more enjoyable.

“I can sleep away from you or put the pillow on the other side of the bed.”

“No, that’s not necessary. Just sleep how you always do.”

“Okay,” you agreed, settling your agreement.

If Hyewon snored in her sleep, you never once heard her. Keeping things casual, you told each other good night and good morning, sometimes both and sometimes neither depending on if your schedules met up.

Hyewon’s sleep attire went from long sleeve pajamas and pants, and as she became more comfortable with the situation she herself became more comfortable and more casual.

Ditching pajama pants for shorts, long sleeves to tank-tops, and eventually settling on oversized shirts enough to cover her up. Except for the time it didn't and you got a glimpse of her cute butt and the black pair of boyshorts underwear she didn’t know she was showing off.

You had reached the third week of living with Hyewon, and you were as comfortable with her as being in your own skin. Sharing a bed wasn’t as complicated as you thought, although there certainly were moments where a leg brushed up against your own and vice versa. Avoiding physical contact completely was impossible though and you didn’t think much about it.

“Good morning,” Hyewon sat as she sat up, yawning widely and stretching her arms high up. You turned your head to the side to greet her.

“Morning. Heading into work today?” you asked sleepily.

Hyewon shook her head and messy violet hair went everywhere. “Eunbi has a bunch of interrogations scheduled, so unless she needs me for something I’m staying here.”

“A nice relaxing morning then.”

“Mhmm. Want breakfast?” she asked, throwing her side of the covers off and standing up, doing a quick stretching routine.

“Breakfast sounds great.”

Lifting your head up you realized you weren’t the only thing that had woken up, gritting your teeth and laying your head back down.

“I’ll...meet you at the table.”

“Morning wood again?” she teased.

“Yeah...You know too much about me now.”

You were more than thankful the blankets weren’t thin. You waited for Hyewon to leave the room so you could make a beeline for the bathroom, but instead, you saw the wheels turning in her head.

“Do you want me to help?” she asked as innocently as she had just asked about breakfast. You nearly choked.

“Help…? You repeated, making sure you weren’t hearing things.

“You’re always hard in the morning. I’ve felt it poking me in the back, and I know how annoying it must be to wake up throbbing like that.”

“H-hyewon I-”

“It’s not a big deal,” she smiled as she threw herself at the covers.

You still couldn’t believe it.

“I’ve jerked off a guy before. He finished in like twenty seconds so I never got to enjoy it.”

“You’re that good, huh?”

“I’m definitely not,” she laughed.

She tossed the covers off, leaving the sight of you pitching a tent through your boxers in plain sight.

“You poor thing,” she said as she stared at the huge bulge poking through your underwear. She took a breath as she grabbed the top of your boxers and slowly pulled them down, revealing your needy cock that throbbed as it was released.

Her eyes went wide. “You’re really big,” she said, not wasting time as she wrapped her slim fingers around your length, forming a tight fist and began slowly stroking.

You moaned at her touch. Her hand was cold which brought a different yet pleasurable type of sensation. “Hard like a rock,” she smiled as she continued pumping and you quickly began leaking all over her fingers. For someone inexperienced, it felt good, but you’d have to try really hard to screw up a handjob.

Hyewon looked at the clear liquid coating her fingers with a curious look.

“So much precum,” she said innocently as she licked one of her fingers clean, waiting a second to form an opinion.

“It tastes good.”

“The real thing tastes better.”

She blushed. Tightening her grip, she quickened her strokes as she settled on a rhythm and looked up.

“Does this feel good?”

“It feels great.”

Hyewon’s innocent eyes as she jerked you off was such a bold contrast. The last woman who had touched you was Eunbi, a master of teasing and anticipation. Hyewon’s straight to the point was a nice change.

“How long does it usually take?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“To cum?”

“Yes.”

“It depends on a lot of things. Who’s doing it, what they’re doing, how they’re doing it…”

“Am I not doing a good job? You didn’t cum yet,” she said, feeling concerned.

“No, you’re doing great. There’s not a lot of stimulation with a handjob, so unless you really know what you’re doing it’s gonna take a while.”

“Anything I can do to make it feel better?”

“Do you have any lube?” Hyewon shook her head disappointed.

“That’s fine. You can spit on it.”

Hyewon listened and did as told, letting saliva drip out of her mouth she spat multiple times on your cock. The friction felt better instantly.

“Anything else?”

You were already at this point, might as well up the ante.

“You could uh. Take your shirt off?” You said, testing her reaction. You waited nervously.

Hyewon thankfully didn’t seem to mind. She grabbed the hem of her large black overshirt and lifted it over her head. There wasn’t a bra on underneath to cover up her pale chest. She had the same pair of underwear you had seen that one time. Her breasts were big, not as big as Eunbi, but still sizable and the perfect shape with perfect pink nipples. Her stomach was toned and tight, Hyewon’s body was downright delicious.

“Holy shit.”

Hyewon smiled. “You like my body?”

“I do, you're pretty hot, Hyewon."

She smiled and kept stroking and you couldn’t peel your eyes off her delicious tits. So large and round, you wanted to dive in immediately but didn't want to get greedy.

After just a few minutes you felt your abdomen tightening, subconsciously fucking into Hyewon’s fist, drooling at her newly exposed tits.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you moaned, leaking even more.

“You’re going to cum?”

“Y-yes,” you replied.

Hyewon gripped harder and stroked fasted, encouraging your release with her eyes focused on your cock, anticipating your release. You were almost there, staring at her beautiful tits bouncing in time with her strokes, waiting for your climax to arrive. With a forceful grunt, you exploded in her hand, hips jerking and groaning loudly as you released and coated her fingers with your hot seed. She kept pumping until you were drained, keeping notice of your sensitivity as she winded down her movements to a halt.

She looked on in surprise as her fingers were covered in your stickiness. She grabbed a tissue to clean herself off, but not without giving one of her messy fingers a sample.

“You’re right, the real thing does taste better.” she smiled. “Now let’s get some food in us.”

✦✦

There was a surprising lack of awkwardness around the table as Hyewon served breakfast. Scrambled eggs, both sausage, and bacon cooked to perfection as per your request. She knew you needed a little extra energy after draining your stamina.

“How is the case proceeding? Any closer?” you asked, not wanting the conversation to steer towards what had just happened.

“Things are complicated. We’re finding it harder to apprehend the suspects we need, they’re on the move constantly. They know we’re onto them but we don’t have the resources to send more teams.”

“They own so many businesses they could practically hide anywhere in the city, sadly,” you said.

“This is so frustrating,” she said. “But we have to move forward, taking any steps we can. I’m going to be spending a lot of time at the office next week.”

“I’ll take care of the house, it’ll be in tiptop shape.”

Hyewon nodded. “You’ll also have to take care of morning wood on your own, mister,” she teased.

“Back to the old ways then,” you sadly said.

Hyewon paused as she finished her eggs, chewing carefully as she formed a thought.

“I feel bad. Although, you know I kind of liked it.”

“Liked what?”

“I... liked jerking you off. Feeling how hard you were, hearing you moan when I touched you. I felt something...seeing you throbbing when I made you cum.”

Hyewon’s typical blank expression morphed into a deadly smirk.

“I can see why Eunbi likes her job so much. That feeling of control is just...intoxicating.”

“Do you like taking control, Hyewon?” you asked.

“In my job absolutely not. But in the bedroom...I don’t know yet. Maybe.”

“We’ll have to do some investigating then.”

“Guess we will.”

✦✦

You didn't see much of Hyewon that week as expected. Your sleep schedules never synced and you ended up fast asleep alone before her, usually waking up to an empty bed.

"Long day?"

"Long week."

Hyewon didn't follow up on the conversation that night, drifting away to sleep. Over the weeks of becoming familiar with each other, you had gotten closer with Hyewon, both figuratively and literally. There was something that was never spoken about but you often woke up with an arm or leg draped over your body, or her chest pinned to your back. You certainly didn't mind the welcome intimacy.

During a rather peaceful sleep, you felt something jolt you up.

"Were you asleep?" she asked.

"No, I wasn't," you lied.

"I can't sleep," she frowned.

"Too much on your mind?

"I guess. What do you do when you can't sleep?"

"I lay there for a few minutes and try to relax. If it doesn't work warm milk usually does the trick," you said.

"We're out of milk," she pouted. "Any other ideas?"

"Honestly when I really can't sleep I just jerk off. Puts me out like a light."

Hyewon felt her cheeks flushed as she hid her head in her hands.

"I can leave the room if you want..." you said.

"What for?"

"So you can…you know."

"Touch myself?” She said innocently. “I've never given myself an orgasm. I just let Eunbi do everything for me."

"I see," you said as you formed an idea.

"Can't you just do what Eunbi does to yourself?"

"I don't think it would be the same."

"Well, I'm out of ideas then. Unless you want to call her in the middle of the night."

"She'd kill me."

Hyewon huffed in frustration. You were fresh out of ideas and sympathized with her. Looking over her it was kind of cute how frustrated she was, bundled up neck-deep under the covers as she watched the ceiling fan, trying to do anything to fall back asleep.

She turned onto her side, her doe eyes facing you. “Can you help me?”

“Help you what?”

“Help me fall asleep…”

“How do you want me to do that?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it.”

You smiled. “Do you want me to give you an orgasm, Hyewon?”

“Y-yes... If you don’t mind...”

“Not at all.”

You threw the covers and sat up, making your way to her position. Hyewon had on a black cotton t-shirt which you lifted up enough to see her hips. Her underwear was pink and lacy, covering up just enough of her skin to still be sexy enough.

“Can I take these off?” you asked. She nodded and lifted her butt. You grabbed the top of her cute underwear and began to slowly pull it off her hips, peeling it off her body and down her smooth long legs.

Hyewon nervously kept her legs locked together, but after seeking her approval you spread her thighs and revealed her beautiful pink pussy. Kissing up her inner thighs you heard her gasp as your lips made contact with her soft warm skin.

“Your body is so amazing,” you said as you planted more wet kisses on her pale thighs.

“T-thank you. It’s not as nice as Eunbi, I wish I had her figure,” she said sadly.”

“It’s not a competition. I’m sure you have things Eunbi is jealous of.”

“I-I guess so.”

Not wanting her to be down on herself anymore you interrupted her and licked up and down her thighs, painting them with long swipes of your tongue. She whimpered.

“O-oh, fuck…”

Making your way in between them, you kissed her center before running a finger through her folds, watching the way she looked.

“You’re wet.”

“I-I can’t help it...”

You started warming her up by licking up her pink slit, giving yourself the first taste of her pussy, and inhaling her aroma. You explored her folds with your tongue, cleaning off her juices until you reached her clit. You blew a puff of hot air against it and she whined.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” you said, and before she could respond you swirled around her hardened clit, running circular patterns along it before taking it into your mouth and sucking.

“Ahh!” she moaned. You continued to eat her out, tasting her juices and licking everything up as her warm thighs wrapped around your head.

Buried against her crotch you went wild, tasting all of Hyewon’s delicious sensitive pussy, suckling on her clit wildly as she squirmed and moaned.

“Fuck, you’re so good at that. No wonder Eunbi likes you.”

You kept the pressure on her clit, suckling hard and you brought a finger inside her cunt, and then another, curling them and finding her spot immediately. Hyewon’s hips bucked as she moaned loud, as you licked and sucked everything that leaked out between her luscious legs, feeling her body trembling and reacting to everything you did.

“Oh god, oh god! I’m going to cum!”

Looking up straight at her buried in between her heavenly thighs, you licked and sucked up her clit, and Hyewon came almost right away, making a mess on your face.

Slowly removing yourself from her pussy and licking your lips, helping her ride out her orgasm, caressing her thighs as she came down from her high, panting, and still seeing stars.

“Hol- wow. You’re really good with your mouth.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

“I will...but I don’t want you to go without returning the favor.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said.

“You made me feel so good though, I just want to do the same,” Hyewon protested

“I don’t want to keep you up.”

“You won’t.”

“I can just go jerk off in the bathroom, it’s no big deal.”

“You don’t need to do that. After what you just did for me I want to help you too,” she said.

“Besides, I’m already half-naked,” she said as she pulled her shirt off, letting you see her wonderful full breasts for the second time.

“Now I’m fully naked.”

You felt the throbbing in your crotch as your eyes focused on every inch of her body.

“You don’t have to get naked to give me a handjob.”

“A handjob? You deserve much more than a handjob.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I want us to both be tired at the end of this,” she smirked.

You had established Hyewon as the innocent and naive type, and while you were mostly spot-on seeing this side of her changed that.

Hyewon gestured for you to lay down and you took her former position, adjusting the pillows to your liking. Taking a kneeling position, you spread your legs for her, the anticipation high already.

She lingered there for a moment. Her face stayed blank, the same way it had the first time you met her. It gave you the chance to admire her face, her pretty brown eyes, her cute nose, and cherry red lips, lips that you didn’t realize were so plump and kissable.

“Are you going to keep your shirt on? It’s only fair I see you naked too isn’t it?” she asked.

She had a point. Grabbing the collar of your shirt, you lifted it over your head and tossed it off the bed,

“Now we’re talking,” she said, biting her lip. “You have a really nice body as well.”

Staring just a little longer than you expected, Hyewon’s view went to your crotch.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“You’ve never given a blowjob before?”

She shook her head disappointingly. “Jerking off that one guy is the only experience I’ve had with men. And now, you.”

“Just do what you did that one morning, but add your tongue and lips. Be careful with your teeth though.”

She nodded in acknowledgment. “I've seen porn. Just suck it right? Like a popsicle?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s more to it than that, but yeah.”

“What do I do to get you hard?” she asked.

“Well, I’m halfway there, just rub it through my boxers.”

She followed your instructions, using her hands to create friction through your crotch awkwardly. It was cute how clueless she was about this.

Hyewon’s eyes opened wider and within a matter of seconds before a bulge had formed.

“That didn’t take long,” she smiled and knew how to do the rest. Tugging your boxers down, she left you in the same state of undress as her, your cock twitching as it was freed to meet her.

She did the same thing she did before, albeit with more confidence this time, wrapping her cold hand around your shaft and keeping a tight grip. Using smooth movements she stroked slowly, the now-familiar pumping motions becoming more natural.

Using the earlier example a bit too literal, licking up and down one side of your shaft like it was an actual popsicle. It looked awkward but didn’t stop from feeling good. She did this on all sides, and you directed her to move her tongue lower, helping her figure it out one step at a time.

“You’re getting it,” you praised her, as she continued lathering up your shaft.

“Go lower,” you told her and she got the message, licking your balls with shallow swipes of her tongue, causing you to groan.

“They’re sensitive right?” she asked.

“Very, so you have to be careful,” you replied. Hyewon nodded cutely.

“Put your lips around the tip, start out gently. That’s the part that feels the best.”

Licking a little more she traveled up until her mouth found the tip of your cock, eyeing your length. When she was ready she licked her lips and wrapped them around your swollen tip, hollowing her cheeks as she started sucking gently. You let out a deep breath and a moan immediately, the softness of her plump lips indescribable as they surrounded your cock.

“Like this?” She asked as she carefully sucked, trying to keep her teeth out of the way as she drew out your pleasure.

“Yes, that’s perfect. Feels so good already.”

Feeling proud, Hyewon took more inside her mouth, almost reaching the middle of your shaft as she activated her gag reflex.

“Don’t take it all at once,” you warned. She looked so damn pretty giving you head. Innocent Hyewon with her lips all over your dick, it was a wonderful sight, even the first few inches inside her mouth felt absolute heaven. She got used to it little by little, knowing where her limits were as she bobbed her head up and down, keeping her eyes dead centered on you.

“Your lips feel amazing. You’re a natural at this,” you praised, the warmth of her wet mouth driving you insane. Maybe it was the porn videos, or maybe she just had a gifted talent, but what she was doing to you felt so fucking good. Her lips were perfect for giving head, their plumpness sucking the life out of your cock as her throat made loud slurping sounds, infinity pleasing to your ears.

“You can use your tongue too,” you suggested, and after a moment you felt her wet tongue splashing against your underside, causing even more pleasure.

“Fuck.”

You leaned back against the pillows, closing your eyes and listening to Hyewon’s mouth slurping your dick, her warm lips doing their work. You’d have to train her to deepthroat at some point, but if she was already this good at sucking you off you were in for a treat.

Hyewon took you rather deep, gagging herself a few times before pulling her mouth off and stopped, stroking your length.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Mhm. I don’t want you to cum yet.”

She had a determined look in her eyes and you could tell she wasn’t ready for things to end.

“I want us to feel good. At the same time,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ve never felt a dick inside me. That changes tonight,” she said, growing more confident.

“Not even a toy?”

“No. Eunbi doesn’t want to use them, she thinks I’m not ready yet. But I am.”

“If you say you’re ready then you’re ready.”

“I am.”

With her expression determined she and straddled your lap, giving you even more time to stare at her naked body.

With her warm thighs on each side of your waist, Hyewon grabbed hold of your cock and lined it up with her entrance. Her pussy was so pink, just as pretty as she was and plenty wet. She carefully lifted herself up, and with very delicate movements she lowered herself onto your cock, both of you gasping as she was penetrated for the very first time.

“Shit,” she moaned, the new sensations so overwhelming to her.

“Take your time,” you said, watching carefully and caressing her thighs. She sank down a little deeper, gritting her teeth as a mixture of pain and pleasure hit her all at once. Her pussy squeezed your shaft tight, almost painfully so even guided by her intense wetness.

“How’s it feel?” you asked. She looked unsure.

“I-I don’t know yet.”

Hyewon moved her hips back up until she was almost empty, moving back down and you watched as the tip of your cock disappeared inside.

Giving her time to adjust, you let her do everything, only taking you as deep as she felt comfortable with.

“You’re so fucking big. I feel so stretched already,”

“So tight, Hyewon. You feel amazing.”

“That’s good right?” she asked.

“Yes. You’re even tighter than Eunbi,” you admitted, not that you would tell anyone else that.

Hyewon braced herself by holding on to your chest, carefully trying to position herself. Once she slowly adjusted, her hips began moving, and she began riding you.

“So damn big,” she repeated. “Eunbi must love this.”

She moved slowly at first, hips gently moving up and down, letting herself feel that intoxicating stretch. The pain had subsided and she only felt pleasure, moaning softly already. Her walls tightened more and more as she took you deeper inside her, leaving a trail of slick covering your cock to aid in penetration.

“You feel really good inside me,” she said, at first not letting more than half of your shaft inside her pussy, trying to control her breathing.

Hyewon carefully found a rhythm, riding with a slow but constant pace, her tits gently bouncing with every movement. You couldn’t stop staring, mesmerized by the way they jiggled, adding to your arousal.

“You really like my tits don’t you?” she asked.

“Of course. They’re perfect.”

“You can touch them if you want,” she said.

“Oh I’ll do more than just touch,” you replied, and she beamed, giving the go-ahead. Running your hands up her tight body and feeling her soft pale skin you grabbed a handful of them, groping them as you felt her tight pussy lips squeezing your cock. You didn’t need to compare them to anyone else, they were perfect as is - soft, heavy, and delicious.

She rode a little faster, moaning louder as you buried yourself in her scrumptious tits, sucking on her tits and feasting on them, being careful to not overstimulate Hyewon.

“You’re so wet, Hyewon,” you said, watching her slowly fall apart. She replied in groans and moans, taking as much inside as she could, relaxing herself.

“I’m going to feel this in the morning,” she said, lips curling as she pushed herself all the way down, impaling her pussy to the hilt.

“Oh god!” she moaned as she bounced up and down, riding faster with all of you inside her tight cunt. You wanted to feel all of her body, wandering your hands around her delicate soft skin as you settled on her ass. Plump and tight, you squeezed it, still letting her do the work.

“Fuck, oh fuck! I think I’m going to cum!”

“Then cum for me, Hyewon.’

“I-I will!” she said, louder than expected. Bouncing her ass on your cock she leaned backward, supporting herself on your thighs as she exerted more energy in her hips.

“Oh fuck yes, I’m gon-”

Not even able to finish her sentence, her body lost control as she came violently, rolling her hips as her tight pussy pulsated around your cock and you felt a wave of juices drowning your cock. Her pace slows down significantly, trying to ride out the first orgasm she’s had that wasn’t a woman's fingers or tongue and the pleasure is so intoxicating to her that she might pass out.

“H-holy shit,” she said, as she looked up for the first time in several seconds, almost embarrassed by how loud she was. Her eyes were fully glazed over after her orgasm and her pussy felt even tighter and wet around you, but she had just enough strength to keep her hips moving.

“You need to cum too,” she said, regaining her senses as her whole body leaned forward, pressing herself against your body and you unexpectedly felt her soft lips against yours.

“That’s for making me feel so good,” she smiled, running a hand through her hands, returning to her past pace.

“Now I want this pussy to return the favor.”

With a tired gaze on her face, she bounced again on your cock as you kept your hands around her waist, feeling the sweat misting across her perfect skin. You wanted to freeze the moment in time. The way she moaned with every thrust with that pretty voice, how wet and tight she was, the way her supple breasts bounced deliciously, it was all incredibly arousing and yet too much at the same time.

“I’m gonna cum too,” you blurted out, words becoming difficult to use. Her eyes lit up.

“Good. I wanna see how much you can fill me up.”

Her lewd words and the way her wet pink flesh squeezed your cock made it impossible to hold on, giving a few more thrusts as you buried yourself in Hyewon’s tight pussy. Lustfully staring into each other's eyes, you throbbed inside her and groaned her name loudly as you began filling her hole up, shaking as you emptied wave after wave of plentiful thick seed deep into her cunt.

Once her tight pussy milked you of everything, giving Hyewon every last drop she collapsed on top of you, the warmth of her hot sweaty body and her weight comforting yours.

“It’s so warm,” she said, gasping and panting in your ears. She rested there for what felt like hours as you both tried to breathe normally again. Heaving panting filling the room as Hyewon used your chest for leverage and gingerly lifted herself off of your cock, decoupling your tangled bodies.

You watched together as the mess you left inside her slowly leaked out of her pussy, a steady thick stream of hot cum the was the evidence of the intense pleasure she had given you, dripping down her thighs and splashing against the bedsheets.

Hyewon’s chest is still heaving, her purple hair out of place as she tried to catch a deep breath. She looked at your depleted cock and the combined juices still left on it and instinctively grabbed and took it back into her mouth, sliding it down her mouth as much as she could to clean it off, before using her tongue to do the rest.

“I’m going to need to taste a lot more of this.”

With her stamina used up, she crashed, her skin kissing yours as her wonderful breasts pressed against your chest as if she were using your body as a pillow.

“That was amazing.”

“Are you okay? You rode my dick so well.”

“I...I’m good. I could use a shower, but I can barely move.”

“Probably be worse in the morning.”

“Then I’ll deal with it in the morning,” she said. Her final words before she drifted off, tired, her naked body still rested on yours. It wouldn’t take before you followed, sharing one of the most peaceful nights in some time.

You woke up restful and full of energy for once, Hyewon was surprised to see you wake up a few minutes after she did.

“You’re up! Good morning,” she sweetly said.

“Good morning, “ you replied.

“Sorry if I snored.”

“I didn’t hear you if you did.”

“Are you heading into the office?”

“Yes. There’s been a big break and we have the advantage for once. Eunbi needs the whole team to be there.”

“Want breakfast?” she asked, not bothering to put on pants yet.

“I do, but I have everything I need to eat right in front of me,” you boldly said.

Hyewon blushed. “You’re feisty this morning.”

“When do you have to be there?”

“In about an hour.”

“An hour is a lot of time,” you said.

“I know that look…”

"I don't know what you mean by that."

"I'm sure you don’t…" she said as she plopped on the bed on her stomach, bare feet up in the air.

“I wouldn’t mind one for the road. It’d keep me in a good mood all day.”

“Don’t want you to be late though.”

“I do have to still shower and get ready, but I’m sure Eunbi won’t mind if I'm a few minutes late...”

“We’d save some time if we just went straight for the shower.”

Hyewon looked flustered.

“And water,” you added.

Hyewon pondered, sitting up. “My shower is rather big, so you’ve sold me,” she said, removing what little clothes she had left on and gestured to you to follow her, not that you needed any instructions to.

She liked the water as hot as it would go. Her body was beautiful naked, but as water flowed down her chest and onto her flushed skin, matting her dyed hair to her gorgeous features. it enhanced her naked body even more. Hyewon came on your cock as you fucked her from behind and pressed her against the cold shower tile and she finished you off on her tits, carefully away from the water to make sure you got a chance to savor your handiwork.

Drying her hair off and deciding on what to wear, Hyewon’s phone rang.

“Detective Kang speaking.”

“Yes, boss. He’s right here.”

“Understood. We’ll both be there.”

Tossing her phone onto the bed she took a seat and finished dressing as you waited for her explanation.

“We’ve made an arrest on one of the Goda clan’s lieutenants and we have a potential lead on the patriarch. Eunbi wants you to be there to give any assistance and make sure he doesn’t escape.”

“Why me?”

“You know the way they operated and any potential backdoors they might exploit. We’re looking for any and every advantage we can use. Your knowledge of their operations will be a powerful ally at this point.”

“I’ll do what I can, I can’t promise I’ll be useful.”

“That’s all we’re asking. Now let’s get going, I’ll let Eunbi know we’re on the way.”

#izone smut #hyewon smut #male reader #hyewon #izone #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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phoebe-delia · 3 years

Note

Song number 79, please and thank you!

I'm really looking forward to reading all your stories because Taylor Swift is the best, as are song prompts!

Hey nonnie!! Thanks so much. Your song is "New Romantics" by Taylor Swift, of course. For this fic I have chosen to continue my little series called Androgynous, which features Draco, who generally uses he/him pronouns but has a nonbinary drag persona, named Tarasque, who uses they/them pronouns. Draco has a found family consisting of Pansy, Blaise, and a few drag queens (Claire, Cori and Silver), and they're all very close. Of course, he also has Harry, who is supportive and wonderful.

This will be a prequel, so Harry and Draco aren't together yet. This story--this series--is a love letter to the people who love us, support us and help us become who we are: our family. No matter where your family comes from or what it looks like, it isn't defined by blood, but by the ties you knot between you.

This series is, as always, dedicated to my own found family @moonstruckwytch @starlitsilvereyes and @apr1cots. Love you guys. <3

CW: homophobia

Generations ago, in ancient Galatia, there was born a dragon. Bred from Onachus and Leviathan, the creature lurked in treacherous waters, waiting for the right moment to leap out and strike, claiming men to feed its insatiable stomach. With sword-sharp teeth, poisonous breath, and a constellation of spikes across its back, this fearsome beast was the fright of man and the envy of demons.

They call it Tarasque.

Draco wiped the tears that spilled down his cheeks, his suitcase levitating behind him. The angry snarls from his father still rang in his ears, cruel and sharp.

"I'll not have a disgraceful poof for a son." Lucius hadn't looked at Draco when he spoke, the distinguished, aristocratic features facing the ancient walls of the Manor. "You have five minutes to collect your possessions and then you will leave this house."

So there Draco was, trudging through Knockturn Alley and avoiding the curious stares of those passing by him. It was getting dark, the western sun setting in the distance. He shivered against the biting, frigid air. He felt a rush of gratitude toward Pansy for letting him stay in her flat while he got back on his feet. He knew his mother, who'd come to her senses and left his father for a townhouse in France, would gladly take him in, but he knew if he left London he'd never gather the strength to return.

As he walked, he saw a neon sign out of the corner of his eye. "Deliquesce" shone in bright letters like a beacon in the darkening alleyway, beckoning Draco inside.

He sighed. He deserved a firewhiskey to calm his nerves.

He ended the levitation charm on his trunk and then shrunk it to fit into his pocket. He then walked along the cobblestone street and entered the bar.

A man wearing a tight red t-shirt and leather trousers looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"ID?"

Draco sputtered, searching his pockets until he found his identification card and handed it to the man for his scrutiny. The man pursed his lips as he looked over the card and then handed it to Draco with a grunt and a nod. Draco took that as permission and walked the rest of the way in.

The bar was dimly lit. A few tables surrounded a small dance floor and a stage. It was relatively quiet since the night was still young, but a few people were sitting and talking in hushed conversations. One person danced by himself to the upbeat song, uncaring of the world around him as he undulated his hips to the music.

Draco stood, stunned, until he felt someone bump his shoulder.

"Hey! Watch it--wait, you okay, hon?" Someone with long purple hair and a kind, open face looked at Draco in concern.

"I'm fine," Draco's voice was rough from crying, and he was sure his tear-stained cheeks and red eyes undermined his attempt at nonchalance.

The person's worried frown deepened. "Aren't you that Draco Malfoy kid?"

Draco flushed and turned away. "Not anymore," he croaked.

The person shook their head. "You're not who they wanted you to be, are you?"

Draco let out a shuddering breath. "No," he said, his voice tight. "I'm not who he wants me to be. I'm not his son."

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand gently take his own. "Come with me, kid, I think I can help."

They lead Draco into a back room. A row of mirrors and chairs lined the wall, as people chattered and sipped cocktails and ran around with wigs, half-done makeup, clothes, and heels. Draco blinked, stunned.

"What is this place?"

His guide smiled. "This is the dressing room. Not many people get a backstage pass like this but--well--you seem like you need some help."

Draco nodded dumbly and let himself be led to the person's station as a thought struck him.

"What's your name? Er, what do I call you?" He flushed at his own lack of manners.

The person smiled as they sat in their chair, patting the one next to them for Draco to sit. "My drag name is Nex Doughty, but my friends call me Cori."

Sitting down slowly, Draco nodded. "And um, I don't mean to be rude, but are you a man or a woman?"

The person chuckled a little. "Neither. I'm nonbinary. I use they/them pronouns."

"What does that mean?"

Cori shook their head with a small, amused smile. "I'll send you a few websites. For now, just use my pronouns right and we'll be fine."

Draco nodded dumbly. "O-okay."

"Don't be nervous, kid, you'll be fine. We're a family," they gestured to the other people in the room.

Draco's eyes widened. "This--this is your family?"

Cori laughed. "We're not related, but yes, they're all my family."

"But--aren't they your friends then?"

"Don't you have friends you'd consider to be your family? That you might even like better than your blood relatives?"

Draco let the thought linger for a moment. He considered Pansy and Blaise the siblings he never had, and it wasn't as if his Father had really raised him.

After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Cori smiled. "Then there you are." They leaned back in their chair and looked past Draco. "Silver! Claire! C'mere, I wanna introduce you to someone."

Two people came up to them, both with friendly smiles and expectant looks at Cori.

"Draco, this is Silver and Claire. Guys, this is Draco."

"Hi Draco, I'm Silver." said someone with red lipstick and short black hair cut in a bob that reminded him of Pansy.

The other person, who had short blonde hair and blue eyes smiled at him. "Good to meet you, I'm Claire."

Draco nodded. "Likewise. And are you no--nonbinary too?"

Silver smiled. "Cori's been a good teacher, I see. And I use any pronouns. Claire uses she/her."

"So--are you...what is this place?"

Cori smiled. "This is a drag bar. We're drag queens."

Draco's eyes widened in understanding. He'd only heard his father grumble about drag queens when he'd had to go to Knockturn on business ventures, and he'd been taught that they were "freaks."

With a pang, he remembered that, to his father, he was a freak too.

"Draco? Everything alright?"

He shook himself and looked back at Cori, whose face was set in concern again.

"I'm fine. Just..." he trailed off, taking in the sight of the three queens in front of him with more clarity. "Gods, you three are gorgeous," he breathed.

They all chucked. "Thank you, dear," Cori gave him a knowing look before tilting their head in thought. "You know," they said with pursed lips. "You'd look just darling in drag."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Silver nodded. "Totally. You have the bone structure for it."

"I can definitely see it," Claire added with a smile.

Excitement bubbled up in Draco's chest. "Er, do you think you could help me?"

Cori looked at the other two queens, who grinned and nodded in agreement. Then they turned to Draco and gave him a soft smile. "Sure thing kid. Stick around after the show and we'll try it out."

Draco watched as the queens performed one by one over the course of the night, his leg bouncing in anticipation. He was mesmerized as they captured the crowd's attention, dancing and lipsynching to the songs with practiced ease.

When the show ended, Draco and Cori sat at their mirror while Cori applied powders and liquids he'd looked at with curiosity on his mother's vanity. While Cori didn't let him look in the mirror until they were finished, he loved the sensation of the brush against his skin and felt himself transform into something new, yet familiar. As if something had been living dormant in his skin, just waiting to be revealed.

Finally, Cori looked at him with a satisfied smile. "There. Are you ready?"

Draco nodded, no trusting himself to speak.

Cori nodded and turned him around in the chair toward the mirror. Draco gasped.

He hardly recognized himself. His gray eyes were enhanced by thick eyelashes and his face looked thinner, more feminine. A dark wig framed his face and brushed his shoulders. The red lipstick was bright and striking with his features. It felt like meeting a different part of himself he'd never known could exist.

Draco started to understand what Cori meant, earlier. The connection to masculinity had faded with the makeup and wig, and yet he didn't quite feel female, either.

Draco felt fierce, strong. They felt invincible.

Draco recalled Narcissa reading him bedtime stories of dashing knights and magical creatures, but his favorite had been of a powerful dragon that had defended against attackers with sharp teeth and poisonous breath. Saint Martha calmed the beast into submission, and then villagers had stoned the dragon to death.

He'd lie in bed after she'd gone, wondering if perhaps the dragon had reasons to attack. Maybe the villagers meant to kill it. Maybe it wanted to be left alone. Or maybe that's all it knew.

When Lucius had kicked Draco out, he'd felt helpless and terrified of his own shadow, much like he had during the war. Now, the fear still lingered in the back of his mind, but Draco knew there was more to the world than he'd once known.

And maybe Draco could learn to be fierce, too.

Suddenly, Cori put calming hands on Draco's shoulders. "So, what do you think?"

"I love it," Draco said breathily. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Cori said with a smile. "I can teach you how to do this yourself if you want."

Draco nodded quickly. "I'd like that, please, thank you."

"Well, you'll have to think of a name for your drag persona. Of course, you can use your real name if you want, some people do that."

"I've got a name."

"Oh? What is it?"

Draco looked in the mirror, gray eyes sharp with a newly ignited fire.

"Tarasque," Draco said, not glancing away. "Call me Tarasque."

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

#draco malfoy #harry potter #nonbinary draco malfoy #prequel #drag #draco in drag #lgbtq #lgbtqia #dedicated to my friends #song prompt #songfic #new romantics #taylor swift #harry potter x taylor swift #phoebedelia

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Shaw’s Scorching Waves Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an S2 date, 炙浪之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Features S2 Shaw!

[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]

MC: Mister, this is the place!

After paying the passenger fare, I hurriedly get off the car, but find that the entrance of Live House is already very crowded.

Sweeping my eyes across the area, I receive a shock.

Whether they are male or female, everyone here is donned in punk style: ripped shirts, leather outfits, jackets with rivets on them... A few people even have cool mohawk hairstyles.

At the side, the words “Rock ‘n’ Roll Night” are spray-painted on a wall. Below them is an eye-catching line--

"No entry if your attire doesn’t match the theme”

MC: ...

I look at my surroundings, then lower my head to look at my own officewear... Clearly, under such circumstances, I won’t be able to enter.

With uncertainty in my heart, I take out my phone and make a call.

After a few dial tones, Shaw’s languid voice drifts into my ear.

Shaw: What’s up?

MC: I’m at the entrance of Live House now.

Shaw: You really came?

His sentence ends with an upward lilt, as though a little surprised.

MC: Yeah. Over the phone last night, didn’t you tell me to come over after my meeting? Since it’s a formal invitation from you, and you’re performing a new song, of course I couldn’t miss it.

Probably not expecting that I’d rush over in time, Shaw pauses at the other end of the line for a while.

Shaw: ...you’re pretty punctual. Are there many people outside?

MC: Yeah. But the doors don’t seem to be open yet.

Shaw: Of course. After all, I just reached too. Who knew that Old Man would drag out the lesson...

MC: But what do the words on the wall mean? I didn’t know there was a dress code to watch the performance.

Shaw: You didn’t actually wear business attire over, did you?

Shaw’s laughter of ridicule drifts to my ear. Slightly angry, I grip the phone tightly.

MC: If you keep laughing, I’m leaving!

Shaw: Tch, try to leave if you can. All right, wait where you are.

Shaw pauses, and the soft sound of breathing can be heard from the other end of the line. He seems to be stretching.

Shaw: I’ll pick you up.

Because of the way I’m dressed, a few staff members I walk past along the corridor to the break room can’t help but cast sidelong glances at me.

Entering the break room, I discover that there isn’t a single person inside.

MC: Eh, where are the other band members?

Shaw: They’re still on the way.

Shaw closes the door, then lies down on the sofa lazily. I once again check the time.

MC: But the performance is starting in half an hour. Don’t you guys need to rehearse?

Shaw: We’ve been prepared since a long time ago. Heading straight to the stage afterwards is fine. Come to think of it...

He tilts his head, looking me over.

Shaw: This is the first time I’m seeing someone wear business attire to watch a performance.

MC: The fact that I could rush over already means a lot. Be contented.

Shaw: In that case, prepare yourself to be “saluted” by others later.

I lower my head to look at my outfit. It truly doesn’t suit the crowd.

Also, since there are so many people today, it wouldn’t be convenient to move around later on.

Just as I furrow my brows in vexation, Shaw suddenly speaks.

Shaw: Hey, I have a suggestion.

Meeting his mischievous gaze, a bad feeling arises in my heart.

MC: ...what are you planning to do?

Shaw: Since I didn’t notify you in advance, I thought of an idea.

He suddenly stands up and walks towards the wardrobe at the side.

After rifling through it for a while, Shaw takes out a black coloured leather jacket.

Shaw: Try it.

MC: ...is this yours?

Shaw: Why do you care about so many things? Just try it on.

I take the jacket from him. Skeptical, I bring it to my nose to give it a sniff - it has a faint peppermint scent. Looks like it’s pretty clean.

Watching my actions, Shaw gives me a subtle look, and releases a soft “hmph”.

Shaw: If you don’t want to wear it, forget it.

MC: Who says I’m not wearing it.

I snatch the jacket back. Although there are still some concerns in my heart, I can’t be picky considering the current circumstances.

The jacket is a little large, and hangs on my body loosely. However, it’s able to cover my short shirt.

MC: How’s this?

Shaw: The way you’re dressed...

Shaw pauses, then chuckles softly.

Shaw: Looks pretty punk.

MC: I never thought watching a performance would be so troublesome... Why did you guys suddenly think of having a theme?

Shaw: Because it’s fun.

Shaw responds instantly.

Shaw: People who watch the performances range from working adults to students - all sorts of people. But after changing their outfits, no one will care about their identity. Before music, nobody’s different.

I look at Shaw, a little surprised. I originally thought this activity was just a spur of the moment for them, and didn’t expect that there’d be such a meaning behind it.

Just when I’m about to say something, the lights above my head suddenly flicker.

MC: What happened? Is there a problem with the lights?

With a glance, Shaw answers indifferently.

Shaw: The voltage isn’t stable, that's all.

Before I can probe further, a series of knocks come at the door. A staff member opens the door, and tells Shaw--

Staff: Get ready, the performance is about to begin.

In Live House, there are a mass of bobbing heads as the restless crowd congregate near the stage.

After a short while, I’m pushed to the back.

MC: Do I have to squeeze through the crowd...

Looking at the crowd before me, which is so packed till there isn’t a single crevice, I'm at my wit’s end, and stand in place.

Man A: That bass player is quite interesting. My girlfriend likes him a lot.

Man B: Oh? You’re very magnanimous. Not jealous?

Man A: She just appreciates his musical abilities. He plays really well. See for yourself later.

The conversation between the two man standing in front of me drifts over to my ears. I can’t help but laugh.

If Shaw knew how he was being commented on, I wonder what he’d think of it.

I whip out my phone, taking a few pictures of the scene.

“There are so many people here today! Seems like quite a number of them are here for you.”

After penning my text message, I send it to Shaw along with the photos.

The performance is about to begin. Despite thinking he wouldn’t reply, my phone suddenly vibrates.

A sentence flashes on the screen.

Shaw’s message: Why are you so far behind?

After a few seconds, another message appears.

Shaw’s message: Don’t move around. I’ll look for you later.

I’m just about to reply. At this moment, the lights extinguish. The entire venue dives into pitch darkness, and the background music stops.

Without the hyping up of a host, and along with a flurry of shrieks, the band members enter the stage.

Purple light streams down slowly, shrouding the entire stage together with faint mist.

Shaw walks in last, his steps indolent. But his figure is tall, straight, and proud.

He hangs the bass over himself casually. Exchanging a glance with his bandmates, his fingertips flit across the strings lightly.

Along with the first sound from the drums, the performance officially begins.

Without unnecessary cushioning or embellishments, the music goes straight to the theme. The rapid and fierce melody propels the hearts of everyone to beat along with the rhythm and notes.

I’m standing below the stage, my eyes fixed on the people above it.

Just like the first time I watched him perform, I almost forget to breathe in the midst of the shocking music.

Shaw’s fingers fly back and forth on the strings. He is so skilled in his techniques that even if you were to keep your eyes wide open, you wouldn’t be able to see how he moves his fingers clearly.

The lights and shadows intersperse like an illusion. He sways along with the rhythm, the light in his eyes even fiercer than the swift melody from his fingertips.

I grip the jacket on me. In the crowd - as what Shaw said - I have forgotten my own identity in this very moment.

Just like a normal rock lover, I can’t help but raise my hands in the air.

The climax gradually nears, and the entire crowd waits for the explosive point, their insuppressible shrieks surfacing one after the other.

At this point, the lights hanging on stage suddenly release a “PA” sound, and sparks appear in the air.

The audience in the front row cry out in alarm. The lights continuously flicker, and the buzzing sound of electricity can be heard.

Audience A: !! Did something happen?

Audience B: Seems like a problem with the lights. Could this be a stage malfunction...

People on and off the stage seem to notice this unforeseen event, and chaos erupts in the venue.

Suppressing the panic in my heart, I lift my head to look at Shaw.

In the middle of the flickering lights, I see a bewildered expression on his face too.

After a moment, he seems to think of something. He suddenly lifts his eyes and looks at the audience, his probing glance sweeping across them.

My heart jolts. Subconsciously, I give him a wave.

The surroundings are filled with the clamour of people. After sweeping past numerous profiles, Shaw’s eyes fall on me.

The moment our eyes meet, his frown smoothens out. Under the ever-changing lights and shadows, he reveals a flamboyant smile.

Shaw: Scared?

What’s there to be afraid of? Baffled, I shake my head.

Shaw holds back his smile for a moment, and he seems to be making a soft “tch” sound.

The crowd is still in chaos. Quite a number of them even squeeze towards the entrance, planning to leave the venue.

A staff wearing a name-tag is currently maintaining order in front. My eyes brighten, and I hurriedly squeeze myself over to him.

MC: Hello! The lights have been flickering, and I think it could be because the circuit over there has some issues.

Staff: All right, thank you!

The clamour from the crowd seems to cover the music. I lift my eyes to look at Shaw, and discover that he’s currently staring at the flickering lights, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking about.

Suddenly, he lifts his hand, and a bright light reflects from the pick between his fingers.

Shaw: Hey, catch up!

He steps on the pedal, matching the rhythm of the flickering lights. A few band members start to react.

The drummer raises his drumsticks in the air, tapping them together a few times. The band members exchange glances, cooperating with the rhythm to commence a spontaneous performance.

When the audience notice that the performance is continuing, they start cheering enthusiastically. Without realising it, I also start to cheer.

Shaw pulls out the wire connected to the bass. He walks to the side of the stage, his gaze sweeping across the crowd slowly.

He stretches out his index finger, pointing at the most raucous part of his audience, his eyes burning with fiery light.

The mood of the audience is instantly ignited, and they respond to him with gestures.

Shaw takes two steps back. Then, he turns around fiercely, jumping into the air.

At this moment, the hanging coloured balls open and countless ribbons drift downwards.

The glaring lights stop flickering, and they are all focused on Shaw.

Standing at the back, I see Shaw being lifted by the crowd. Along with the surge of the crowd, he draws closer to me.

The performance on the stage continues. The turbulent music excites every single cell in one’s body in an unparalleled manner.

The performance reaches its peak, and everyone excitedly waves their hands in the air. It’s as though the earlier incident was nothing more than for performance effect.

Shaw and I exchange glances. Even though we’re separated by the crowd, he looks at me with an unbridled smile.

My heartbeat speeds up in my chest along with the sound of the drums.

The thin coat of sweat on his collarbones, his intense gaze, and that hand reaching towards me--

All of them render me unable to avert my gaze.

In the break room, I shut the door, cutting myself off from the merriment outside.

With twenty minutes left for the performance, Shaw suddenly handed his bass to me, and asked me to wait for him in the break room.

I look around my surroundings, but don’t see Shaw.

MC: Why is he always like this - deciding things for himself...

I sigh softly, looking at the bass in my arms. My mind flashes back to images of him performing.

I can't help but raise my hand. Based on the melody in my recollection, I try plucking on the strings, humming the tune softly.

??: Hey, you’re out of tune.

I jolt. Turning around, I meet Shaw’s sly gaze.

MC: ...didn’t you manage to recognise what I was playing? It shows that I’m not lacking in talent.

Lowering my head, I continue strumming the strings in indignation. But my wrist is suddenly grabbed from behind.

Shaw: You can use one finger to pluck the strings. That way, the timbre will be more even.

Before realising it, Shaw is already standing behind me. I feel his breath on my ear, and it carries the same fresh peppermint scent as the jacket on me.

I pause, then follow his advice on how to play the bass, realising that there’s indeed an evident change in the timbre.

Shaw: How is it? Isn’t it much better?

Before I can respond, footsteps are heard at the door.

In the next second, the door is pushed open. A band member enters, teasing him good-naturedly.

??: Shaw, are you able to rush your assignment before the deadline...

His voice suddenly halts. The moment he sees me, a few band members freeze.

When they notice the jacket on me, their expressions abruptly change, looking as though they’ve seen a ghost.

Adam: Isn’t that...

Jensen: All right, let’s not disturb their interaction and studies.

Jensen’s voice is genial. A few of them who tacitly understand his words start laughing.

Jensen: Shaw, catch!

A silver coloured object flies in an arc through the air, and a set of keys fall squarely in Shaw’s hand.

Jensen: We’re off. Remember to lock the doors.

In the blink of an eye, they’re all gone.

MC: Is there something about this jacket?

Shaw rolls his eyes, walking over to the side to tidy up.

Shaw: Don’t bother about them. Let’s go.

There’s nobody in the main hall of Live House - a complete opposite of the lively atmosphere just now.

The loudspeakers and musical instruments on the stage have yet to be kept. A sole spotlight is turned on, and messy electrical cables are on the floor.

Thinking about the nice yet interrupted new song just now, a faint sense of regret surfaces in my heart.

MC: Shaw, could you play the bass again?

Shaw pauses in his footsteps. He turns his head to look at me, his expression baffled.

MC: That new song today - you only played it halfway before having to stop. I want to hear you play the full song.

Shaw: Right now? You really know how to order people around. Forget it, I'm in a good mood today. Wait here.

Shaw: Wait here.

He tosses his bag at me, then takes large strides to the front, hopping up onto the stage.

He picks up the bass casually. Plugging the wire in, he lowers his eyes and sweeps a glance at me.

Shaw: This time, you’ve got to listen carefully.

With this, a melody gradually flows from his fingertips.

Although it’s the same song, it’s different from his performance earlier. He plays every beat unhurriedly, his posture casual and relaxed.

I’m sitting on the floor, quietly listening to the low sounds of the bass, humming along with the music.

The timbre of the bass beneath his fingers is low and unruly. The occasional pauses and increases in speed are reminiscent of himself and how he does things as he pleases.

There’s a strange tugging of my emotions as memories of the past echo--

A very long time ago, underneath similar dim lights, I had watched Shaw’s performance for the first time.

I tug on the jacket over me, immersing myself in my thoughts, not noticing that Shaw has furrowed his brows above the stage, slightly upset.

Shaw places the bass to the side, then suddenly jumps off the stage.

MC: !

The thud of his feet making contact with the ground pulls me back to the present.

Amid the blurry lights and shadows, the image of him hopping off the stage and the image before me overlap.

In the quiet evening without a restless crowd, Shaw walks towards me, every step especially clear.

He stops before me. I lift my head to look at him, but am caught off guard when he flicks my forehead.

MC: Ah!

Shaw: You couldn’t keep your eyes off me when there were many people around. Why do you start losing focus when there are fewer people?

Shaw: Tch, you don’t know how to cherish this.

His face is within reach. My heart beats erratically in my chest once again, just like it did when he was surfing the crowd towards me.

MC: When was I unable to keep my eyes off you...

Shaw arches his brows, his expression reading: “Don’t even think of denying it”.

MC: I was just wondering why you thought of hopping off the stage earlier.

Shaw: What?

MC: Just now, during the performance. If you had waited for the staff to fix the lights, you wouldn’t have needed to go through such trouble, right?

MC: Also, do you like getting off the stage like that? Isn’t it good to use the stairs?

Shaw: But it’s cooler like this.

Shaw’s tone is confident, and the corners of my lips tug upwards involuntarily.

Shaw: Also, this time is different from before.

MC: How so?

Shaw: It isn’t an accident this time.

He takes the bag in my hands, then walks towards the entrance.

Shaw: Why are you still standing there? Let’s go.

The streets in the wee hours of the morning are tranquil and empty. The streetlights outside Live House cast small, round halos.

Shaw doesn’t speak. A lively melody drifts from his earpieces, and he’s humming a certain song from his band softly.

Shaw: Hey, your car’s here.

I nod, my eyes falling on the skateboard beneath his arm.

MC: You don’t plan to ride the skateboard home today?

Shaw: The board needs waxing. Oh yes, remember to share your location with me when you’re in the car.

We bid each other goodbye with a wave, and I enter the car. With the clinking sound of metal buttons, I realise that I’m still wearing that black coloured jacket.

I roll down the window, and exclaim at him.

MC: Shaw, thanks for your jacket!

Shaw appears to pause in his steps. After a while, he lifts his hand and waves it in the air casually. He doesn’t turn around, carrying the bass.

Shaw: Remember to wash it before returning it to me next time.

Moonlight falls on the ends of his hair, coating it with a tender halo. Shaw steps into the tranquil night, and it seems like his footsteps have become slightly lighter.

🎸 MOMENTS 🎸

Shaw’s Post: The first time seeing someone wearing business attire to watch a performance.

MC: You’ve already said it once!

Shaw: Saying it twice isn’t enough to express my surprise.

Shaw’s Post: The first time seeing someone wearing business attire to watch a performance

MC: And with high-heels. My feet were close to giving up when I reached home...

Shaw: You should have mentioned it earlier. I have a pair of shoes in the break room.

Shaw’s Post: The first time seeing someone wearing business attire to watch a performance

MC: Are you touched? To watch your performance, I didn’t even have the time to change my clothes.

Shaw: A little. Hope you can continue in your efforts the next time.

Phone call: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw #there's a reason why shaw once overthrew gavin's top spot in my heart hnghgnhg #charismatic little brat

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mightysteelix · 3 years

Text

Pent Up Desires (Fic)

Ever since the summer event last year, I've been toying with the idea of a larger Robin. And now that its rerun is about to come, I've decided that it is time to finally write it out - and meanwhile hit as many of my kink buttons as possible. This is the result - one of my most indulgent works (if not the most indulgent work to beat them all).

Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandoms: Fate/Grand Order Relationship: Robin Hood | Archer/Billy the Kid | Archer Characters: Robin Hood | Archer and Billy the Kid | Archer Summary: Do you remember when B.B. said she would turn Robin into a pig during ServaFes? What if she followed on the threat, albeit with quite the twist?

Robin is cursed and can't control himself around food. Billy has promised to help, but he can't control himself around Robin.

Weight-gain kink fic. Don’t like, don’t read.

WARNING FOR KINK CONTENTS UNDER THE CUT

Additional Tags: Weight Gain; Belly Kink; Size Kink; Size Difference; Masturbation; Dry Humping; Stuffing; musclechub; Robin gets huge; And Billy tries not to jerk off whenever he sees him; Self-Indulgent

LAST WARNING FOR KINK

Summer was in full swing, and Babbage blasted enough steam to make Chaldea hotter than a waterless hole in the heart of the prairie. So, it did not come as a shock that Robin was rockin’ only trunks and an open shirt, which showed some well-sculpted arms. The guy was hell-fired handsome with the finest body ever, and if he wanted to kick back, Billy wouldn’t protest. Nay, what hit like a bullet to the brain was the ton of food in front of him—meats, loaves of bread, and a raft of drinks.

“How’s it goin’, partner?” Billy plopped down in a chair next to Robin. “Famished after Servant Fes sucked the life outta ya?”

“It’s…” Robin, with a larger scowl on his face than usual, panted. “It’s that… purple-haired witch’s fault.” He grabbed a drumstick and tore off some meat like a starved wolf. “She threatened to turn me in a pig…” His face was red with effort. “We had to win her Holy Grail…” He bit another chunk. “Don’t worry,”—Billy stifled a giggle when Robin mocked the Master’s voice—“she won’t follow on it.’ It’s easy to speak when this isn’t happening to them!” After chewin’ the last of the drumstick thoroughly, he swallowed. The slow gulp traveled down his throat and into his stomach. Robin punched his chest and exhaled in relief.

Billy’s eyes followed it and glued themselves to Robin’s gut. It was taut, bloated, as large as a basketball—and just as hard if he touched it. The pressure was makin’ the skin around the belly button burn angrily. The trunks rested under the overgorged curve, a trial of ginger peekin’ below the band. “True, partner, you’re becomin’ a nice piggy,” Billy quipped. “So, the purple lass’s itchin’ for a vendetta, and she chose ya?”

After he popped a soda open and drank half the bottle—his gurglin’ gut sloshin’ and expandin’ even more—Robin nodded. “She cursed the clothes. And I must’ve stepped on her toes something fierce when I complained to Master. Now I can’t even take the swimsuit off.” He grit his teeth, his handsome face (Was that the start of a double chin? Nay, don’t stare!) grimacin’ as he tried to keep the fizz down. His strained jaws opened as if pried apart, and with shakin’ hands, he poured in the rest of the drink. His neck bobbed; his stomach filled and grew in every direction. “Whenever I see—urp!”

Robin closed his mouth. His cheeks bulged with a held-back belch. Yet the stress forced his lips to open: “UUUURRPPP!” He bowed his limp head away. “Excuse me,” he muttered. “But when there’s any food—anything—I must eat it. It doesn’t matter if I’ll explode; my hands will push it down to my stomach.” He slapped the swollen ball, it barely swayin’. Something bubbled in its depths rose in his throat, and he let out another lengthy burp.

Bitin’ his lips, Billy leaned closer. “Have ya tried stayin’ outta here? Far from the eyes, far from the heart and all that?” he advised Robin, his eyes lookin’ anywhere but that overstuffed middle.

“I’m trying. But she’s pulling that Archer’s strings, too.” Robin grunted and glanced at the kitchen while devourin’ a buttered slice of bread. “If I leave my room, he’s on my tail with a cupcake or some other treat. Before I know it, I am dragged here and”—he pointed to the ungodly number of plates—“you see the rest.”

Billy nodded slowly, his whole willpower holdin’ him from lickin’ his lips. A fire was blazin’ in his chest—and his groin. He knew EMIYA’s dirty little secret way too well: the way a man’s gluttony melted him faster than an ice cube durin’ high noon. The Archer had left his treats unguarded when Amakusa discovered his sweet tooth. And when the Ruler came one morning, enormously flabby and flauntin’ it at every step, the pervert couldn’t stop blushin’! For Billy’s shock, neither could he. So did they become accomplices, secret friends bound by a common desire.

But gettin’ his pleasure from Robin, who hated every second of it? Damn, that was a new lowest of the low! Billy’s neck ached with strain as he did his best not to look, but he wouldn’t give in! “Forgive the question, partner,” he dropped it, hopin’ to divert the talk, “but if ya’re stuffin’ down so much food, how are ya not as fat as that priest boy?”

Robin clicked his tongue. “I’ve been burning off the calories. When I am not gulping down food here, I’m in the gym to work out. Doesn’t stop flab from piling.” Billy squinted, lookin’ for it, and caught himself. “But it does help.”

With some vigor, Billy’s line of sight moved higher—towards Robin’s arms. True, they were meatier, fillin’ the short sleeves of the shirt. Robin wasn’t a stick before, either, but now he was more powerful. Gorwin’. Maybe his legs had also bulked, but Billy didn’t wanna risk lookin’ at that gut again.

“Of course, after the training, my stomach is starving, and I chew down more food to make up for it. You should see how much EMIYA brings me then.”

Even more? Billy gulped—and before his brain could call out the horrible, horrible idea, he spoke. “Do ya need a partner for this job, partner? Someone to help with the trainin’ and to keep your appetite under control? Because ya can rely on me!”

“You know, that might help. Thanks a bunch!” Robin’s relieved smile stabbed Billy’s heart like a dagger. “Do you want to try it once I’m done here?”

“Sorry!” Billy jumped outta his chair. He wasn’t goin’ to ditch Robin—he owed up to his offers. “I’ve gotta do something else first!” Namely, one red Archer needed a few bullet wounds and a lecture on personal boundaries. “But tomorrow I’ll help ya!” And hopefully, he wouldn’t end distracted by that amazing, achy, hungry gut.

---

“Damn that EMIYA!” Billy shouted as he collapsed on his bed. “And that purple wretch, too! When did they form their party?” His talk with the red Archer a day ago had gone to the dogs. That man had balls of steel—no matter how many threats or bullets Billy wasted, EMIYA did not budge. And B.B. had hidden in her little mouse hole, without a trace of her anywhere in Chaldea. Billy couldn’t find her, no matter how many rooms he checked—as the stupid chef had told him.

“No whiff of the Master, either,” Billy grumbled. Da Vinci had promised to deal with the unruly pair, but B.B. would stop only if her so precious senpai ordered her. And unless she lifted the curse before breakfast tomorrow, Billy woulda to help Robin with the training again. The pillow muffled his screams. His heart woulda exploded in his chest after watchin’ his partner once. God help him if he had to see him bustle those weights while his gut shifted and gurgled. He hadn’t stopped glarin’ at the packed sphere once, paying attention and squirmin’ whenever it swayed. Robin’s unintended teasin’—him drummin’ over the sphere every once in a while—made it even worse. Billy barely had survived today; tomorrow would kill him!

Even worse, he said some calories stuck as fat. Did that mean an ever-flabbier Robin with a softenin’ gut? How much feedin’s would it take ‘till it became an enormous tank of lard; ‘till it sagged over his deck and he needed someone’s help to jerk himself off? It would jiggle whenever he took a step, it would flop over his shorts—hell, Robin woulda to pull them under his belly! His shirt would hide nothing; nay, it would show off those juicy curves.

Billy’s crotch twitched. No! He clenched fists, his nails diggin’ in his palms. “I’m not beatin’ it to Robin, no matter how smokin’ hot he becomes!” There were boundaries to those things! He rolled, now lyin’ on his back. His dick was makin’ a tent in his pants. The movement only made it rub against the fabric, and the pleasure flared up even more. “Self-control, self-control, self-control!” Billy repeated like a mantra. A burnin’, powerful feelin’ arose in his chest.

Would Robin gain love handles, too? They’d be juicy and plump, always to be grabbed when there was a chance. Billy imagined squeezin’ them in his fingers, the flab jigglin’. Would they push his shirt even higher, so large that nothing would cover them? And when Robin tugged it relentlessly, his gut would shake. The threads would strain and groan, but the clothes wouldn’t fit over that engorged mass. When he gained moobs…

Billy shut his eyes. His body was tense and feverishly hot. Sweat was burnin’ his forehead, and the flame in his dick pulsated through him. He shouldn’t think about those two swayin’, soft sacks of flab. He shouldn’t imagine carresin’ them, kissin’ them. Precum moistened his underpants.

“Who knew: I’m a pervert enough to do it!” Gruntin’, Billy peeled off his pants and pulled down his briefs, freein’ his dick. “Only this time!” He snatched the lube from his nightstand—his hands trembled and almost dropped it on the floor—and generously coated his fingers. “Do yer fuckin’ worst, libido!” he swore and began pumpin’ his cock. The first touch rustled through his body, a torrent of pleasure to drown him. No, oh no, oh, oh, oh yes, yes! He was breathin’ heavily, and his hand didn’t stop.

Robin’s moobs would show under his shirt—nay, so large that he couldn’t fit clothes over them. He’d parade around naked, a total show-off, his gut, and moobs, and love handles, and delicious, delicious backrolls for the whole world to ogle. The shirt would be a mere piece of fabric, stretched and useless, good only for hidin’ his shoulders—if even that!

Billy tried to hold his moans—keep at least that dignity. His insides were coilin’, his muscles were shiverin’. His dick stiffened more, and he drew every movement long until his body woulda broken under the strain of lust. He gulped the moan down, opened his lips for a hasty breath, and closed them immediately, the pant havin’ built up in his throat.

Robin would become a titan of a man, his torso a lardy mountain. He would carry all the weight, his freakin’ strong body put to good use. Those powerful arms he boasted an entire day—that was a start because he would also swell with packed flesh. His shorts would tear around his tights, the veiny mass crackin’ them apart. But he would pay no attention to that. The curse would drive him to eat and eat, glut himself more, unable to fight the thrall of the food. He would complain of his growth but never resist because he couldn’t—not even when he outgrew the chairs, the doors, the halls.

His stomach would be stuffed at all times, yet callin’ for more. What if Billy brought him snacks to the gym? Robin went only there and to the dinin’ hall. What if they shortened that time? What if he did not stop fillin’ his gut, gorgin’ himself, the sphere bloatin’ out of proportions, dominatin’ his already enormous frame? Then he would explode into more impossible, more gargantuan sizes. There would be no end, no control, only expansion and flab, and muscle…

Billy arched his back. A desperate, loud moan—almost a hiss—left his lips before he could bite it down. He was thrusting more rapidly, hastily, desperate for that release. If only he coulda Robin with himself, to have his way him.

If he were there—small, almost invisible next to the giant that was Robin, he would cheer. He would rejoice as the other Archer lifted heavier and heavier weights in the gym, his muscles so swole that they would tear the skin open. Veins would run under the sweaty flesh, visible over the bloated mass. And when Robin wanted to eat… Oh, boy, Billy would make sure he packed away his fill. He would push the meals in the other Archer’s mouth, rub his belly to provide comfort, and squish the flab under his fingertips, enjoy it as the gut would seemingly grow under his touch. Or, it would be tight and heavy, stretched to its limits, angry and protestin’ the constant stuffings. But it would be so used to the fullness and the cursed hunger that Robin wouldn’t handle a second without bein’ stuffed. It would be like an addiction—nay, it would be one—to eatin’, to blowin’ up, to growin’ fatter.

And if Robin enjoyed it as much as Billy, then the blond would have no problem givin’ some bonus help. He closed his eyes and imagined Robin’s dick in his hand. The massive roll of his gut pressed into the fingers, and as Billy stroked the cock, it would groan and roar, so overstuffed that it could burst open. He could also ride that massive ball, rub his member all over it while pushin’ caloric meals into Robin’s stomach. Or he could push his shaft between the two lardy ass checks and fuck Robin!

There, almost there! Billy was pantin’, out of breath, hot as coals. His ghosting fingertips ran across the red tip of his dick. It was an itchy, sudden touch that quickly ended. He hoped to prolong that sick, depraved cravin’ for as long as possible. Thoughts of relief were pushed to the corners of his mind.

Once their efforts came to an end, Robin would be huge, too large for his puny clothes. He would march around Chaldea, showin’ off his naked, heavy, thick body. The muscles would sway, the veins of his biceps and calves would shift. His enormous gut—so enormous that it would fall over his erect dick—would gurgle at every step: either achy and overfilled or not full enough and needin’ more. Robin would tend to it, gloat, relish in his new size and consume even more food. He would feed himself further into titanic sizes. Control would slip out of his mind. After gorgin’ himself, he’d be so horny, so desperate, that he’d pound Billy straight there in the canteen.

Cum shot outta Billy’s cock over his hand, and he was moanin’. His sheets were sticky as the white liquid soaked them., but he kept squeezin’ the last few lustful drops. The heat was sated, the achin’ hole in his chest filled for the time bein’. But, he realized with newfound clarity, tomorrow it would set him on fire again. And the thought of Robin attackin’ the filled tables like a beast sent a shiver down his dick again.

---

“Almost… There!” Robin grunted, gritting his teeth, and pushed up the barbell. His arms stretched, his large muscles expandin’ to their full size and squeezin’ again. His sleeves were already rolled as high as possible, not fittin’ around his swollen arms but tried to creep up more. Sweat was glistenin’ on the skin as it rippled - a proof of the effort he was puttin’ in. His round pecs—as big as apples—flexed, hard despite the flab that covered them. They swayed rhythmically as the weight moved up and down, plusatin’, tensin, and relaxin’: one, two; one, two. Billy’s eyes traced them as they shook, and he could see himself gropin’ them, holdin’ that powerful flesh… “And done!” Robin’s proud shout snapped out Billy. But it was for the worse because the huge Archer sittin’ on the bench let the barbell in place and scratched the curve of his gut, which rolled over his waist.

Fidgetin’ and tremblin, about as helpful as a snowball in a summer gunfight, Billy was warmin’ a nearby bench. He had been comin’ every day, unable to tear eyes away from the clothes that seemed to shrink around Robin’s growin’ body. The gym trips didn’t make him any smaller—especially when, after every workout session, Robin gorged himself until his bloated stomach couldn’t fit a morsel more. Then, he’d complain he was so full, drag out long moans and poke the stuffed sphere. As he sated his gluttony, it distended, pushed out more, and sometimes—a hot thrill cut through Billy—rested on his lap.

Billy bit his lips, strugglin’ not to slip a hand down in his pants right at the gym. He rubbed his tights together. His face was sizzlin’ like fire, and his breaths were rushed, unruly, desperate. He shook his head, hopin’ to clear the fantasy, but choose the damned best worst moment.

Robin jumped on the floor. The shockwave rocked the bench. Didn’t the equipment also rattle? Billy swallowed and the gulp lodged in his throat. He was shiverin’, truly feverish, trying’ to look away from the handsome behemoth. He knew what was comin’, but his neck refused to budge.

“Let’s go to the canteen.” Robin grinned lazily, his chubby cheeks jigglin’ a little. “After this stress, I should eat something.” He drew fingers over his exposed belly. Hadn’t he started touchin’ it more often—almost as if he got his kicks outta it.

No, no, no! Don’t think like that!

“Wasn’t the plan that you stopped stuffin’ your face, partner?” Billy wanted to stall—he was a god-damned coward. Once he saw Robin gulpin’ down food like there was no tomorrow, all pretenses of holdin’ back would fly straight outta the window. “Ya sure it’s not the purple hag’s doin’?” He didn’t know if he had the power to stand up without his legs meltin’ in a puddle.

Robin crossed arms behind his back, the mass of his bulky arms and forearms pressin’ together. “Does it matter much? I mean, I am not sprouting a pigtail, right? I was worried B.B. was literal with her curse.” He glanced down at his belly. “I can get used to some flab.”

Billy’s small body clenched as he struggled to hold back a moan. Robin was already a damn-fine lady-killer—in that case, a bloke-killer. His awesome, broad shoulders led to beefy arms, as thick as tree trunks - as possible capable of tearin’ them outta the ground. A soft layer of flab—quiverin’ unless Robin flexed—bloated their size further. But if Billy dragged fingers over ‘em, he’d feel the packed bulk underneath. Those powerful monsters could—a hiss of pleasure pinned him to the bench—snap him in two. Robin’s muscles were top-notch, too: wider than his arms, shaped by constant bustin’ at the gym and the very act of carryin’ his bulk. They were veiny, ripped, and made the puny summer shorts stretch and ride up under the curve of Robin’s gut.

That lardy overhand attracted attention without fail. It was an enormous sphere of pure fat. The hidden muscles kept it in a firm, massive, fat ball. Robin still tugged the shirt around his oversize middle; the buttons ached and shook, hangin’ for their dear life. His poor shorts fared even worse, trapped between the titanic tights and the blobby belly, strained into a thin line of fabric. What if, while Robin was packin’ away food, it snapped in two, no longer survivin’ the pressure? Would he shrug it off and keep eatin’, too gluttonous to consider it? Would he glut himself, his pecs—round, sightly saggin’, the perfect ending touch to his appearance—wobblin’ at the fast movements?

“Hey! Are you coming?” Robin asked. He had turned his back towards Billy. The shirt rested well above his soft, squeezable love handles, which trembled with each step. His bloated ass cheeks pressed together, foldin’ as he walked. The shorts barely covered them—and if Robin kept feedin’ himself and expandin’, no clothing would fit him. When the threads snapped, and his body exploded outta them.

Billy’s mouth opened wide, and he stood up, followin’ their hypnotizin’ sway. It wouldn’t come to that, would it? Robin had more self-control, did he not? But he had no problem with growin’ fatter—and if his eager steps were an indication, he could even await it. Billy’s imagination quickly did its job, paintin’ a pic of Robin, who was eatin’ no longer with resignation but with cheer. He would adore the way his flab folded or his muscles swelled. He would rejoice more the less he could see under the dome of his girth, proudly lift even heavier barbells and dumbbells and eat his weight in food.

“Come, or you’ll miss everything!” Robin shouted from the hall, turnin’ so fast that ripples spread through the entire mass of his engorged gut.

“I’m comin’, partner!” With an uneasy waddle, Billy followed him. Had he found out? Could he? As if he was a mutt with a yanked chain, the blond rushed down to the canteen. His brain could wait. Robin was right; Billy needed to see every second of that show.

---

Billy’s legs dragged him towards the canteen sluggishly, weakly. He hesitated at every step, pulled back, and then minced forward. What if someone saw him? He had to scram as fast as possible, get far from the dinin’ room. His dick was throbbin’ in his pants—and they were so tight that the whole Chaldea musta noticed. Hot sweat soaked him to the bone: anxiety, arousal, and anticipation. He had clenched his hands and mustered whatever willpower was left to him. “I’m not beatin’ it in the halls,” he murmured in the lonely corridor. “No matter how much I’m burnin’, no matter if it’ll drive me insane, no matter that Robin’s embraced piggin’ out and when I enter the canteen, I’ll find him stuffin’ himself sick.” Each second was painfully long-drawn torture as the twitches of pleasure set him ablaze.

“Can you walk faster, please? You partner”—the voice was so heavy with sarcasm that Billy could see it drippin’—“is inside and has already begun. If you arrive too late, he will have finished.”

“EMIYA!” Billy crouched in his shootin’ position. The tight pants rubbed his sensitive cock, and he felt himself edgin’ closer to release. He tried to hide the dick with his hands but brushed its tender head. “You’ve got a lotta courage,” he tried to push away that shameless joy, “showin’ up before my eyes.”

“Keep the rage for later. The curse would have failed if he did not enjoy it.” The unfazed Archer passed by him. Then, he stopped, glanced around shiftily, and turned back. “And you don’t have to thank me for this. Honestly. The grand plan was someone else’s.”

“I’m gonna give you all the gratitude you deserve, no worries!” Billy reached for his gun, but EMIYA slipped past him and disappeared.

He coulda chased the Archer, but there were more pressing things.

With the red vermin gone, Billy opened the doors and entered the canteen. He moved through empty chairs. The lively hall was now ghastly empty, not a sound to distract him.

Only one table was occupied—or, more accurately, three tables put together as a one. There was no other way the oversize feast woulda fitted. Potatoes, dazzlin’ with melted butter; meats with sauce as thick as syrup; mountains of golden, crispy fried rice—those were a few of the dishes, reversed for the special guest. And he was wolfin’ down a huge plate of appetizers along with a large bottle of soda to keep him company, the same ol’ grin plastered on his face. “Hey, partner!” he spoke, his mouth full. “I would say that you can pick whatever you like, but, uh, I have the feeling this is all for me.”

The flame of passion erupted into Billy. He bit his lips, and his hand reached for his cock, stroking it through the pants. It brought some short-lived relief, but then it rose higher—like a wave which would drown him if he stopped. “S-so,” he hoped to move the topic to anything else, “you were serious ‘bout enjoyin’ the curse, partner?”

The enormous gulp traveled down Robin’s throat. “How does it look to you?” He polished away the last few bites and set the plate on a pile of empty ones. When did he have the time? Billy had come ten minutes after him! How fast was Robin gorgin’ himself?

“If the red Archer will be my chef, I might get a use out of him.” Robin moved onto a juiced steak with bewitchin’ aroma and dug straight in, lickin’ the splotches of grease that stained his lips. “It’s not a weak start, but I bet I can do better. There’s a lot more to eat, after all. Do you want to watch?”

If Billy had any sense left, he should have realized the so clear teasin’. But he could only think about Robin’s huge body, about his gut and ass and bottomless hunger. Squirmin’, he nodded.

“Then you can sit here.” Robin patted the space on the bench near himself. “It might be a little tight, but a small guy like you can fit.”

Small. As if in a trance, Billy walked and plopped down, squeezin’ his body as close as possible to Robin’s flab. His left side was sinkin’ in the lard, feelin’ the warmth which the oversize Archer radiated. Those temptin’ rolls bulged over the smaller man, spillin’ over his lithe frame. He was like a mouse next to the engorged mountain that was Robin. “When did ya began enjoyin’ it, partner? Didn’t ya say ya will be stayin’ fit ‘n’ trim?” His hand hadn’t stopped runnin’ over his cock; how the hell had Robin not noticed?

“No, I did not want to be a pig. I thought B.B. would make me a large pink animal, but it seems she hadn’t been literal. Besides”—Robin stopped his feast to grip his flexed biceps, stretchin’ his fingers to fit around it—“this is quite far from a fat pig. I would have ended this earlier, but I had fun playing with you.

“You… On purpose?” Billy couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Why else? Did you think someone missed the way you were staring at me?”

It was as if a bomb had exploded in Billy’s chest. He shoulda been ashamed, distraught that his dirty secret was out in the open. But instead, he felt bliss, utter and true bliss. Robin was on the same page. Robin was on the same page! “Then, partner… Can I?” He was tremblin’, barely able to speak.

“Do whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

Billy jumped onto him, perchin’ himself atop the blobby gut. His face leaned forward, and he kissed Robin’s revealed moobs. He pressed his lips over the pecs. His face was enveloped in the soft chub, and his tongue caressed them from the perky nipples and up the curve, glidin’ over the muscle underneath.

He began grindin’ against Robin’s belly. The flab engulfed his cock. As Billy thrust into it, his dick not penetratin’ deep enough to fell the muscle, it shook around. Those jiggles made him throb with pleasure, arch his back, and squeeze—squeeze all he could.

Robin’s huge arms were the nearest. Billy’s hands slid over them, feelin’ the muscle ripple. The veins shifted with each movement and… Was Robin still stuffin’ himself?

The fat sphere pushed out, givin’ in less and less. Robin’s gut was growin’, fillin’ up with food, and he was bound to end even flabbier; even bigger—so impossibly enormous that Billy would be but a speck next to him. He’d be so tiny next to that solid wall of flab and flesh and beef!

Jizz soaked Billy’s underpants. The relief—the final relief—crashed over him like a wave and let out an unabashed moan in Robin’s chest. His warm, frantic pantin’ made the skin tingle.

And he rose his head, and his red, messy, wild smirk met a proud grin.

“For such a small guy, you’re pretty intense,” Robin said. He was breathing heavily, his belly pushing in and out. “Do you think you can handle a round number two?”

The blond, ruffled outlaw nodded, his body movin’ before his brain had a chance to react. “You betcha, partner!”

#weight gain story #male weight gain #male weight gain stories #robin hood #billy the kid #fate grand order #fgo #chubwritings

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