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dramaqueeenamby · 3 years

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𝙎𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝗈𝖿 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 | seven

Parings: CEO!Chris Hemsworth x Stripper!OC // Words: 7.8K // Type: Series // Taglist: Yes/No (Inbox me to be tagged or removed) Warnings: Sexual harassment, racial themes, discussions pertaining to child death, miscarriage, alcohol/drug use, and suicide attempts. Angst.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the inexcusable delay in updates. This chapter is hella long and perhaps should have been split into two, but I promised ya'll some answers in the last chapter, so here they are!

“What is that haircut?”

“Why are you zooming in?”

Kaya said nothing, continuing to pinch her fingers to gain a closer look, her smile widening by the second. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding. “

Chris rolled his eyes. “All children go through phases.”

“This is beyond a phase, my friend. Don’t even get me started on the outfit.” As she erupted in yet another fit of giggles, he took advantage of the opportunity to snatch the iPad away from her.

“Go to sleep.”

Quieting herself down, she wiped at her eyes. “No. Come on. I’m enjoying this, and like you said, you were a dumb kid. How were you supposed to know these photos would haunt you till’ the end of time?”

“Only if they get out.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, sir.”

Chris closed the app and looked over at her. “What about you?”

Kaya’s brow lifted. “What about me?”

“What about your phases?”

She snorted. “Absolutely not.” He continued to stare her down, prompting her to cave, a surprising move even for her. Kaya’s tenacity was typically much stronger than that. “Fine.”

She grabbed her phone and unlocked it, opening Google Photos and scrolling mindlessly. She knew that any horrifically embarrassing snapshots would be from as far back as her library went. The older the photo, the higher the likelihood she would regret ever caving.

It took roughly two minutes for her to locate a set, her eyes shutting and a small moan leaving her partially closed mouth.

He smirked. “Found it?”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Without a doubt.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “At least you’re honest.” Blowing out a breath, she issued a formal forewarning. “In my defense, I was young and dumb.”

“How is that diff—fine, I will reserve my judgment.”

“Liar.” When he said nothing else, she took another deep breath and gradually pulled her phone away from her breast, twisting her wrist so that he could see the screen. “I give you, thebaddestputa69.”

She watched the corner of his lips lift upward as he fought off a smile in favor of a smirk. “Hotmail or aol?” Her surprise at his knowledge of the fallen email servers must have shown because he commented, “I’m old, not ancient.”

She matched his smirk and leaned over to whisper. “Hotmail. Definitely hotmail.”

“AIM username?”

“Come on, the same as my email. I wasn’t creative enough to have multiple aliases.”

He chuckled, grabbing her phone to examine the photo. “I certainly do not miss the peace sign era.”

“I’m pretty sure I used that same pose in all of my photos back then.”

He gestured to the plastered graphic that read ‘jealousy is a disease, get well soon’. “With the same masterful level of editing, I’m sure.”

“But of course, blingee and picnik were a staple.”

A comfortable silence befell them as he returned her phone, and she quickly swiped up to close the app. Kaya was grateful that he didn’t swipe right or left, something she was expecting him to do, if she was being completely honest with herself.

Kaya yawned and naturally laid her head on his shoulder as she reached over to grab the book she was reading when they somehow got on the topic of rebellious and wild phases of days of past.

“Are we th—”

“Finish that sentence, and I will personally throw you out of this damn plane myself.”

Kaya looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth pronounced. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“No, it was a legitimate question. However, it stopped being one when you asked me the fifth time.”

“I’m just trying to keep the conversation going. Damn.”

“No, you’re just trying to pester me.”

“Look, it’s obvious you don’t want to hear me talk anymore, so I’m just going to shut my mouth for the remainder of the flight.” He snorted. “What?”

“We both know that’s not possible.” He finally broke his gaze from his phone as he looked over with that knowing smirk that she despised. “You always have to have the last word.”

“That is not true.”

“Kaya, you’re like a child.”

“Keep it up, and you’ll be the one who’s personally tossed from this jet.”

“See what I mean.”

Groaning, she threw her hands up and shook the book in her right hand. “This is the second book in this series.”

“And?”

“And I started the series when we were still on the taxi.”

He shrugged. “Read slower.”

“Chris!”

He laughed, reaching to place his hand on her thigh as she sighed while banging her head back against the headrest. “Relax.”

“Don’t you think if I could, I would?”

“You were doing great five minutes ago.”

“That was in the past.”

“Next time, we’re taking separate jets.”

She didn’t know why but hearing him refer to future happenings both excited and saddened her, for more reasons than one. She cleared her throat. “This is a work trip, right?” He looked down at her as she placed the book down on the ground and held onto his bicep. “You know, something for your company.”

He studied her for a moment and looked up, closing his eyes as he laid his head back against the headrest. “I have the cover of this month’s GQ Italia.”

“Fancy,” she remarked, still unsatisfied with his answer-non answer. “So, I was right. This is a work thing.”

Chris thought about what she said, what she asked, as well as his response before he replied. “They offered to contract a photographer in LA.”

Brows scrunched, she had to ask, now more confused than she was just a few minutes ago. “So why go to them?”

His silence only irked her, the seconds dragging into minutes, which felt like hours. Frustrated and impatient, she called his name again. “Chris-”

“Jesus,” was all she heard before his lips were on hers, palm of his hand pressed against her cheek. Everything else after that was a sensual blur. His other hand moved to her hip, pulling her onto his lap, never once breaking their kiss. She placed her hands on his shoulders, giving a light squeeze, inching her body closer to his, close enough to feel the heat that always emanated over him.

And then, it was over.

Eyes fluttering and breath staggering, she nearly whined when he ran his thumb over her swollen bottom lip.

“This isn’t work for me.”

----

“This is our room?”

Chris looked up and chuckled, watching Kaya spin around the middle, eyes soaking in their suite. He placed her bag near the closet while crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“It is.”

Kaya nodded and grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt, tugging it over her head. She extended her arm out and turned around, lifting a brow. “And we have maid service, correct?”

He eyed her. “Of course.”

Kaya smirked and let the garment fall to the floor.

Chris chuckled. “You wanna explain that?”

“What?” She played innocent, fingers toying with the waistband of her joggers as she began to shimmy out of them. “Staying in a fancy hotel where I don’t have t0 clean up after myself?” She walked toward him, moving to grab her suitcase so that she could find her next outfit. “Granted, we have the maid service at home, but—” Both Christopher and Kaya paused at her statement, equally surprised by how easily it flowed, but more so with the statement itself.

Defense immediately kicked in and Kaya cleared her throat. “I mean, ya know, your place.” She refused to make eye contact that exceeded ten seconds, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and dragging it in the direction of what looked like the bathroom.

“Dibs.”

Her feet weren’t moving fast enough for her liking. In fact, they were slow enough that Chris was somehow able to cross the room and grab her by her arm. She looked up, managing to remain calm while inwardly panicking.

God, please don’t let him ask anything.

“Don’t take too long.”

She swallowed. “Why?”

Her grip on the handle tightened when he moved his hand to her face, the back of it brushing against her cheek. Had he been paying close enough attention, he would have noticed the way she shivered at his touch.

“You want dinner, don’t you?”

-----

“This isn’t exactly what I meant.”

Kaya looked up from her pizza, pausing mid chew. “What? Pizza in Italy? This is goals.”

He intended to take her to a fine restaurant, one where only the elite could afford to dine. Instead, she requested pizza delivered to their room. Kaya never ceased to surprise him. “And why are you eating pizza with a fork?”

She shrugged, adjusting the thin strap of her shirt. “Because pizza is messy, and my life's already messy enough. I avoid when I can.”

Chris didn’t say anything, simply watching her eat. She caught his gaze and looked away. If she could, she’d go back in time and stop herself from ever saying what she did. It’d ruined everything. He’d been acting different around her since, and she hated that. She also hated that she hated it.

Since when did she give a flying fuck about what people thought of her? Let alone him.

It was out of character for her, and she didn’t like it.

She didn’t like it at all.

Similarly, Chris also found it difficult to focus on anything other than the encounter from earlier, but not for the reasons Kaya thought.

Not even close.

“So, what’s the agenda for this trip?”

He chuckled and brought the champagne to his lips. “And ruin the surprise?”

Her eyes narrowed as she replaced the fork with her fingers so that she could eat the crust piece by piece. “What surprise?”

“What kind of question is that? Who gives away a surprise?”

“Are you capable of ever just answering my questions with a straight answer?”

He pretended to think. “I could.”

“But?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You and fun? Never realized they were synonymous.”

“I’d like to think we have fun.”

“We have sex. Really, really, great sex.”

“You don’t consider that fun?”

“Fun isn’t a strong enough word to describe it.” He lifted a brow, and she scoffed, tossing a red pepper packet in his direction. “Stop it. I am trying to have a mature conversation here.”

“Not quite sure how possible that is when both parties are inebriated.”

“Bullshit. You know damn well neither one of us is drunk. You haven’t seen me drunk. Hell, I haven’t seen me drunk in a while.”

The way her tone changed toward the end of her sentence garnered his interest. “Why not?”

She looked at him, her smile faltering as she nervously cleared her throat. “I—uh—I get really bad migraines, and Excedrin is the only thing that works for me.” Telling him the truth, well, a fraction of the truth, felt strange yet relieving, probably because she’d spent so much of her life hiding and lying that the truth was unfamiliar territory. “Needless to say, meds and alcohol? Never really a good combo.”

“You’re drinking now.”

“I haven’t taken any medicine yet.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.”

She smiled sadly. “I will.” A beat. “It’s all I have.” Kaya snatched another piece of her crust and swallowed fully before explaining. “That’s why my sleep schedule, if you can even call it that, is so fucked up.”

He thought about it. “Excedrin has caffeine.”

“An insane amount.”

“It helps your migraines—”

“And keeps me up in return.” When he grew quiet, she offered. “Trust me. The insomnia is much better than the pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

She grimaced, eyes darting in either direction. “Why?”

He sighed and ran his hands all over his face. “That’s why you get so upset when I wake you up.”

“I wouldn’t say upset.”

“You threatened to slit my throat in my sleep.”

“Okay, maybe I was a little upset,” she confessed, and they shared a laugh before his tone grew serious again.

“I’ll be mindful of that.” Head tilted to the side, a sign she was still confused, he continued. “So that you can sleep.”

She smiled teasingly, abandoning the last bit of her food, and pushing her plate to the side. “Is that consideration I hear?”

“It is.”

The way he was looking at her, the lack of typical sarcasm in his tone, it was both welcoming and conflicting. Crawling across the floor, she moved his plate to the side and climbed into his lap.

Hands on his shoulders, she lowered her voice and whispered into his ear. “Well, I’m up right now.”

He made a sound and brought his hands to her hips. “You are.” Her eyes shut when his lips moved to her shoulder. “You should get some sleep.”

Immediately, she coiled back and glared. “Are you serious right now?” He laughed, which only upset her further as he stood up, her legs locking around his waist. “It’s been at least 8 hours.”

“You keeping a timer or something?”

“Look.” She waited for him to place her on the bed before she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugging so that he laid back on the mattress. She quickly climbed on top of him. “If there’s one thing I know about us, we are ideal intimate partners. Our sexual chemistry is astronomical.”

His eyes drank her in. “Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

His voice lowered. “Is that all you think we have?”

At that moment, Kaya realized a couple of things. This was wrong. She was suddenly very much uncomfortable. And this was a mistake. This was why she didn’t tell the truth. It meant putting yourself at risk for being vulnerable.

She was never good with that.

Clearing her throat, she climbed off him and flashed a crafty smile. “I’m gonna go shower.” She couldn’t handle seeing his face, so she turned around, purposely pretending she had to look around the room to search for her luggage.

“You should know I hate sleeping with blankets.” Kaya needed to redirect the conversation to another topic. This was becoming all too much for her.

He sat up and rolled his shoulders. “So, strip the bed? Got it.”

“Absolutely not. I could freeze.”

“You just said—”

Kaya stood by the door that led to the living room area and smiled sadly. “I’m a hot ass mess, Chris.” A beat. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

-------

We need to talk when you get a chance. Please?

No matter how many times she looked at the phone, a new incoming gray message never appeared. She waited and waited, even scrolling up only for it to bounce back with no change.

She missed Nia. She missed their banter. She missed making tik toks with her. And she especially missed the advice giving, of which she could desperately use right about now.

Something was happening between them. With her and Chris. Of which she didn’t know, nor did she understand. It drove her mad because it was a new experience, one where she didn’t feel as though she always had to walk on eggshells.

Being with Chris….

“God.” She ran her hand over her face. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t with Chris. Not like that, anyway. This was a business transaction. They were both using each other for selfish purposes.

Maybe it was the sex. Nia always warned her that behind every sexual encounter, there was at least some trace of feelings.

Kaya always thought that was bullshit.

Now….now she wasn’t so sure.

“You alright?”

She looked up from her chair and saw Chris walk in. She chewed the inside of her cheek as he sat down in the chair opposite of her. Kaya took in his wardrobe, so casual and laid back. She’d never seen him in denim before, but he looked good.

She didn’t even know the photographer, but she was a fan. A billionaire in Levi’s? Iconic.

“How does it feel to dress like us common folk?”

“Poor.” He winked as she glared. “We should be done soon.”

“Don’t rush on my part. The snacks here are delicious, and who knows, I could play dress up.” She wiggled her brows and straightened when there was a knock on the door.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the photographer spoke up and offered Kaya a friendly smile. “You’re Kaya, yes? I’m Elena.”

Kaya was surprised by the fact that this woman was both speaking to her and actually knew who she was, so her response was delayed. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you.” She offered her hand and noticed the woman was staring at her. Welp. It was nice while it lasted. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized but continued to stare. “It’s just...has anyone ever told you that you have amazing bone structure?”

Kaya sputtered. “Not unless they wanted something from me.”

Elena smiled. “Well, I suppose this is no different.”

“I don’t understand,” Kaya asked, looking over at Chris. He was surprisingly quiet.

“How about we get some shots of the both of you?”

She immediately protested. “Oh no. I—I’m just here for moral support.”

“You did say you wanted to play dress up,” he reminded. She glared. Of course he would choose to speak up now.

She turned her narrowed eyes on him and harshly whispered. “Not while being photographed.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Relax.”

Kaya remembered that they weren’t alone and therefore, had to keep up the act. Even if it was starting to feel less and less like acting.

“I’m used to people watching, not photographing.” He lifted a brow. Laughing, she slapped his chest and took a deep breath. She looked over at Elena. “Will I at least get to see them before you pick which ones to use? If any.”

“Of course.”

Kaya caved. “Fine.” He kissed the top of her head and mouthed a thank you. “You owe me.”

“Sure, I do,” he dismissed, slapping her on her ass as Elena grabbed her to drag her away.

“Time to make magic.”

-----

It was a bad idea, one of many that had occurred, Kaya realized.

When she joked about wanting to play dress—up, she didn’t think that it would actually happen. She didn’t think that she’d become involved in his shoot. Kaya especially didn’t expect to have as much….fun as she did.

And she hated that, too. The fact that she managed to smile and laugh more in one setting than she had in, hell, longer than she could remember. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

She really, really didn’t like the way Chris looked at her every time she walked onto set in a new look, and there were a couple of them. The way he focused on her, eyes taking in every bit of her form, all the way down from her shoes up to her hair. Like he didn’t want to look away. Like he couldn’t look away. She despised the way he held her when they were photographed together, often being the reason for her smile or laughter with his comments that he whispered into her ear, sneaking in a kiss against her temple or holding her against him.

It was all so domestic and sweet, and it made no sense.

He was starting to make no sense.

And she especially didn’t understand why she was putting off leaving the bathroom, having sat on the toilet for at least 15 minutes.

As if on cue, two loud knocks on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“I’m coming, damnit.”

“That’s what you said last time. Come on, Kaya.” She was both surprised and annoyed that it was Chris. She expected it to be members of the glam team that he’d hired to help her prepare for the GQ function he was invited to, and of course, she was forced to accompany him. Turns out he wasn’t just chosen for the cover. He was man of the year. “We’re going to be late.”

“Maybe you should just leave me behind,” she muttered.

“Maybe I can just kick this damn door down,” he countered.

“Then you’ll have to pay for the damages.”

“Then I’ll buy the damn hotel,” he shot back testily. “I’m not going to ask you again, Kaya.”

She scowled and rolled her neck. Kaya knew he was being serious. The bastard could buy his way out of anything.

If only….

Blowing out a deep breath, she swallowed and stood, holding up her dress. It was undoubtedly beautiful, gold, a slit in the middle of her chest and on her left leg exposing more skin than she would have thought appropriate. Her curls were styled in a fancy updo, and her makeup was equally as bold as her dress, finalized with a red lip. She knew that she looked good, and that’s what scared her.

Chris had been looking at her like that all day, and she couldn’t keep handling it.

If she could even consider it handling. Managing was perhaps a better term. Poorly managing was the perfect term.

Kaya ripped open the door and plastered on a fake smile. “Happy?”

And there it was, his eyes widened and softened as he gave her a onceover. “And don’t tell me I look beautiful, cause’ I already know it.”

Kaya figured if she said it for him, she wouldn’t have to deal with the weird and uncomfortable knotting in her stomach that she experienced every time he complimented her.

And it worked, he said nothing, only helping to hold up her dress as they walked to the SUV that would escort them. In the car, she was also pleasantly surprised that he didn’t attempt to make small talk with her during the drive. She was certain, however, that it was because he took at least three different work calls during that time.

She made drafted Tik Toks in the meantime.

When they finally arrived, Kaya nearly ran out of the car right then and there.

“Is that a red carpet?” Her mouth dropped. “What the hell? You said nothing about having to walk a damn carpet that is red.”

He chuckled. Kaya realized his hand was on the exposed portion of her thigh. “Stay close to me, and I’ll take care of you. You’ll be fine.”

Kaya was used to having eyes on her, but that didn’t mean she liked it, especially when it didn’t involve money being thrown her way. “I don’t have to say anything, do I?”

He squeezed her thigh. “You’ll most likely receive compliments.”

“I can handle that,” she spoke more to herself than him. “Just long as no one asks if I prefer cats over dogs or whatever shit they ask.”

He laughed quietly and looked at her. “You ready?”

No. “Yes.”

Chris climbed out the car first so that he could help her out of the vehicle, and as soon as she stepped out, she cursed to herself. There were so many damn people. People taking photographs. People being photographed. People helping both the people the photographed and the photographers. And then there was her. She felt so out of place.

If he wasn’t already holding her hand, she would have grabbed for his.

Kaya used her left hand to hold up her dress, while making sure that she stayed close to Chris who led the way, smiling for the camera while sparing her glances every so often to assess her level of comfort.

Kaya played along, evoking a smile as she posed with him for a few photos. That’s when it started again. Like the photoshoot from a few hours ago, she found herself feeling less forced and more comfortable. Like, it was natural.

Like it was real.

Kaya was eventually allowed to stand to the side as he gave a few interviews, some in English, most in Italian. She’d meant to ask him earlier when the hell he learned to speak so many languages. This was the third she’d learned of. She had a feeling at least one or two journalists asked about her, because he would look in her direction and shoot a wink or something of the sort.

Her smile was a natural reaction.

The process was less daunting than she anticipated, not that she’d ever admit that to him. It was once they moved inside that Kaya realized they’d yet to reach the hard part. That hardest part was “socializing” with the guests, many of which were white, spicy white at best. She spotted some minorities but found that they were just as distant as the rest.

The vim of the event was welcoming, however, which confused Kaya to some extent. She simplified it down to the event was nice, the people were trash, and Chris was both an ass and a gentleman for forcing her to come.

He’d introduced her to a few people, most of which spoke poor English. That, she could acknowledge, was nice. Not the strained English, but his obvious concern for her wellbeing. He was going out of his way to make her feel as comfortable as he could.

It was also irritating because it resurfaced those damn knots.

They were seated at a table, and he was texting someone when she leaned over and tugged on his sleeve. Kaya also took a moment to appreciate how nice he looked. The man was something sinful in a suit. “I think I know him.”

He looked up, immediately locking his phone. “Who?”

She gestured with her chin. “The guy over there talking to the girl with the green dress. But don’t look at them.”

His eyes lifted to the ceiling. Right before he proceeded to look right in that direction.

She laughed despite her irritation. “What did I literally just fucking say?”

“I’ll never understand why people want to do something without actually doing it. I don’t have the time.” She shook her head. He was so impatient. “And how do you know him?”

She lifted a brow. He asked with a newfound sense of urgency. If she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed it came from a place of jealousy.

Kaya studied the stranger across the room again when her eyes widened. “I know. He’s that actor from that porn movie we watched.”

“We don’t watch porn, Kaya. We make it.”

“Stop it.” She leaned closer, hating that her smile contrasted the frustration she felt with how vulgar he was speaking in such a public setting. “And you know the movie where they…..ya know, basically the whole time, and he kept asking in that godawful delivery, are you lost, baby girl?”

Her equally terrible impression caused him to laugh quietly. “I think that is him.”

“I told you.” She spoke a little louder than she would have liked due to her excitement at being correct. “He looks better on screen.”

Chris glanced over at him once more and scoffed. “He’s scrawny.”

“Sir, not everyone is like you and built like a fucking tanker.”

“Not my problem.”

Kaya rolled her eyes and gathered her dress. “I’ll be back. I have to use the restroom.” She stood and leaned over, arms around him from behind as she whispered. “Try not to be too much of a dick while I’m gone, okay?”

He turned to look at her. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Turns out finding the bathroom was a harder task than she’d anticipated. She’d asked one of the servers while maneuvering through the crowd, but it also turned out that Kaya wasn’t the best with directions. She did find it, though.

Eventually.

Kaya was navigating her way back to Chris when she was stopped by a man in a suit along the way.

He was of average height, average build, and average attraction. She was immediately annoyed.

“Hi,” Kaya greeted with a tight smile.

“Hello,” he smiled. Add in average dental health. “You are very beautiful.”

Kaya realized he didn’t have an accent, either. American, most likely. “Uhh, thank you.” When she moved to walk past him, he blocked her. “Sir, I really should—”

“How much?”

Her eyes darted to either side. “I’m sorry?”

“Money is no issue, as I’m sure you can see, and I’d like you for a week.” He stepped closer, bringing his hand to trail it down her arm. “Longer even, perhaps.”

“Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about, and please do not touch me.” It wasn’t so much of a request as much as it was a demand. “Now, I really should—”

“You’re not American.” Kaya continued to be confused as hell when his eyes lit up with excitement. “That explains why you look so exotic.” Confusion easily morphed into rage as she finally caught on to what he was referring to. “I bet you feel di—”

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed, pulling away from him. “I am not a fucking prostitute—”

“Call it what you want, girl,” he dismissed. “I don’t judge. I can pay you well.”

“Go fuck yourself, you sick son of a bitch,” she cursed, turning away when he grabbed her arm. “Let me go.”

“You think that you’re special?” He’d taken on another tone, one that conveyed his anger at being rejected. “The fuckin’ stall I just pissed in is worth more than you, bitch.”

Kaya refused to allow him to see her cry, but she’d be lying if she tried to say that his words didn’t sting, especially his next verbal attack.

“You can slap on that expensive dress and let Hemsworth make you feel special, but I know, you know, and everyone else in this fucking place knows that you’re nothing but a cheap, illegal whore—” Panic arose when he moved his hand to the exposed skin of her thigh, squeezing tightly. His hand started to inch upward when Kaya acted on instinct. He cursed aloud while Kaya gasped as she realized that she’d silenced him with her fist dead square in the middle of his face. “You fucking bitch!”

Shock and fear took over as Kaya gathered the bottom of her dress and ran, as much as the gown and her heels would allow, that is. Certain he was going to chase her for retribution, she consistently looked back, unaware that she needed to be just as aware of what was in front as what was behind.

She shrieked and immediately went to pull herself away from the strong body she’d collided with.

“Kaya.” Refocusing her attention, she looked up and realized it was Chris. “Where the hell—” He stopped amid his statement when he took in her appearance and realized that she was crying. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Kaya looked down, speaking more to herself than him. Not that it mattered. He was judging based on what he saw instead of what she said. He’d learned by now that her words rarely matched the truth. “Let’s just go—”

“Kaya,” he repeated, softer. Chris brought his hands to her face, forcing her to meet his gaze as he asked again, slowly. “What happened?” A strike of anger flashed in his blue eyes. “Did someone touch you?”

“No,” she answered, quickly. Too quickly.

The anger escalated exponentially. “Who? Tell me.”

Kaya could have slapped herself. She wasn’t helping the situation. She was making it worse. “It doesn’t matter, I hit him, and now he’s probably going to sue you—”

“Where is he?” Chris was looking behind her, eyes flaming. He was livid. “Show me. Now.”

“No.” Speaking was becoming an increasing challenge, especially against the backdrop of overwhelming emotions. Everything she’d been feeling, preventing herself from feeling, and afraid to acknowledge was gradually bubbling to the surface. “Just—just let me go back to the hotel. I’m messing everything up for you.”

He calmed for a second, realizing what was happening. Chris was unfamiliar with this side of her. Unfamiliar with seeing her so vulnerable. “What?”

Kaya suddenly realized that her eyes were burning again. She was fighting back tears. “I’ll give you back the money for the day, it’s—it’s fine, you’re better off without me here—”

Her offer to pay him incensed Chris. This wasn’t about the money. It stopped being about the money a long time ago, even if he hadn’t realized that until today. “I don’t want the fucking money, Kaya.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Don’t—don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Please,” she plead. Control over her emotions was a battle she’d all but lost at that point. Her words, she was certain, would be next.

He raised his voice. Chris sensed, saw that she was uncomfortable, but he also realized that this was what she needed. A push. “Why?”

“Because this all about the fucking money, okay?” She matched his volume, accepting that her tears were going to fall no matter how much she willed them not to. She’d lost the war. “It has to be about the money, because if it isn’t then that means you care, and—you can’t, alright?”

He studied her, wondering if she realized this conversation was difficult for him too. He brought his hand to the side of her face. “Why is it so impossible for you to accept that I fucking care about you?”

She looked up, glistening eyes and wavering voice. “Because then I have to admit that I care about you too, and I can’t do that.” She spoke to herself, as if vocalizing it would cement a decision that was already out of her hands. “I won’t do it.”

“Why?” He pressed. Chris brought his other hand to the other side of her face, cupping it and moving closer. He gave zero fucks about where they were and who could have possibly overheard. “Why are you fighting this so hard?”

She pulled herself away from him, back colliding against the wall as she blurted, “because all I do is hurt the people I care about alright?” In that moment, Kaya realized she was so far gone that the point of return was no longer an option. Her mouth trembled as she struggled to form her next sentence, listing off names with her fingers as props. “Mami, Papi, Nia. Hell, my own brother is dead because of me.” A beat. “I’ll only hurt you, and I care about you too much to do that.”

“Kaya—"

A newfound heaviness started to weigh upon her chest, another blockade to her speech. “I’m standing here in a dress I can’t afford, a building I can’t even fucking pronounce, and with a man I don’t deserve.”

His voice lowered. “Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I don’t deserve you?” Kaya looked at him, her eyes softening before she squinted, her face scrunching up in obvious pain.

He took note of this. As invested as Chris was in finally getting Kaya to open up about how she really felt, her wellbeing would always be his primary concern.

“Kaya.” He placed his hands on her waist, steadying her. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” She blinked several times, blinding lights obscuring her vision. “I—can’t—" Kaya felt the firmness of his chest, inhaled the scent of his cologne, and heard her name on his lips before everything faded to black.

-----

She awoke on her side, body clutched against a pillow, and a thin sheet covering half her body. Never one to take her time returning to her senses, she forced herself to sit up, eyes still scrunched from the sleep.

Looking down she realized she was dressed in only one of Chris’s dress shirts, her dress discarded.

Memory returned as Kaya replayed the events that transpired prior to her slumber. The photoshoot. The party. The asshole.

Chris.

“I don’t care. Tell them to send it in the mail or something.”

She recognized his voice traveling from the living room area, prompting her to swing her legs over the bed, her toes submerging into the soft carpet. She’d never been in such a fine hotel where the carpeting probably cost more than six months’ worth of rent on her one-bedroom apartment.

“Evans, I don’t give a flying fuck about any of that right now. You can handle it. I don’t care.”

Kaya contemplated remaining where she was, eavesdropping without being detected. She quickly decided against it. She’d done enough.

Her feet carried her out of the room, and she stood in the doorway where she saw he was standing against the massive window that provided a breathtaking overview of the city.

Again, she considered leaving him be, but he either had exceptional peripheral vision or caught her reflection in the window because he spun around. Kaya’s eyebrows furrowed when she realized he was still dressed in his suit, with the expectation of the jacket and dress shirt which were both discarded, leaving the white undershirt.

Uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her, more concern than that, she settled onto the sofa, pulling a decorative pillow to her chest as she crossed her legs.

“I have to go,” he spoke briefly before pulling the phone from his ear and hanging up.

Kaya swallowed. He’d yet to speak, so she took the opportunity to do so. “Still don’t believe me when I said I’m a hot mess?”

“What happened tonight, Kaya?”

“Which part?” She knew that playing coy wasn’t the best route, but she was forever stubborn and would fight until she had nothing left. “Where I ruined your evening, assaulted a millionaire, told you one of my deepest secrets, or fainted in your arms? There’s a lot.”

“All of it.”

She looked away and licked her lips. Kaya felt cornered, absolutely trapped. Emotionally. She’d always assumed being physically stuck would feel far more suffocating and frightening. She was wrong.

Kaya considered her options, though far and few in between. She could deflect. She was a master at that. She could redirect blame onto him. Call him out on even making her go on the trip, for not telling her ahead of time what to expect, maybe throw in a few insults. And lastly, the most frightening of them all, she could be honest.

That was the scariest of them all.

“I lied to you.” The words spilled out before she realized it, but Kaya accepted the fact that she was tired. There was only so much she could carry, and she’d reached her limits. “My—my parents aren’t dead. They still live in the same house in Parlier that I grew up in with Denes. He’s—he was my brother.” It felt strange talking about, verbalizing what she’d quietly struggled with for so many years. And yet, there was a peace that accompanied the release. “He was such a beautiful little boy, but….different. He didn’t talk much, life skills were….hard for him, and he had these fixations on certain things. He didn’t like change.”

“Kaya, you don’t—”

“When I was eleven, and he was eight, my parents found out they were pregnant. They’d been trying for so long….they were so happy.” She roughly wiped at her face to do away with the silent tears that fell. The crying, however, was inevitable. “One day, they had a checkup appointment, and the babysitter fell through, so they asked me to watch Denes.” She nodded slowly, reverting to the same rush of emotions she felt that day. “I was so….mad, because my friend had just gotten Guitar Hero, and I was supposed to walk down to her house so we could play it.” To that day, Kaya felt a strong surge of rage whenever she ran across a throwback picture or read an article referring to that game. It was a trigger.

“My parents promised that I could go when they returned, but I just couldn’t wait.” Her nose turned up with disgust, disgust directed 100% inward. “I just had to go play that stupid fucking game.”

“Denes loved birds. They were one of his fixations. They think—they think he saw one outside our living room window or something and walked outside to see if he could catch it because, of course, I forgot to lock the front door.” She stared off into space before closing her eyes. “I had just walked into my friend’s house when I heard someone scream like I’ve never heard a scream before.” Kaya tugged the pillow closer to her chest and lowered her head. “I ran back so fast because I thought—I thought I could help him. I thought I could save him.” Her voice cracked. “—But there was so much blood, and he was so hurt—he died in the middle of the street, bleeding, terrified, and it was all my fault.”

Chris closed his eyes and shook his head. “Kaya—”

“They never found the driver,” she added quietly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “The shock of it all……it was too much for my mom, and she miscarried.” Kaya laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humor. “I spiraled after Denes passed. Everything bad and terrible I could get myself into, I did. I—I skipped class, I partied, I drank, I tried drugs.” She scoffed. “I lost my virginity when I was thirteen to some guy whose name I still don’t know because I was so drunk.” She leaned back into the sofa, staring at the intricate pattern of the rug. “I just—at the time, I thought if I did enough, I could make my parents hate me, because it’s what I deserved. But for everything I tried, they kept giving me chance after chance.”

“So, then I attempted suicide, twice, and I couldn’t even do that right.” She groaned and wiped at her eyes again. The cuffs of the shirt were nearly soaked. “I realized that God or the universe or whomever clearly wanted me to suffer and to live with my guilt, but in the midst of trying to punish myself, I failed to realize that all I’d done was cause my parents more pain.”

“Day of my high school graduation, I woke up at the crack of dawn to pack up my bags, told my parents that I was going out with some friends, but I’d be home by 7—and I haven’t seen or spoken with them since.”

She clapped and lifted her hands. “And there you have it. You’ve now seen me naked; you’ve seen me cry, and now you know that I’m a murderer—”

“You’re not a murderer, Kaya,” he was finally able to complete his sentence, still very much in shock over what she’d disclosed. “And what happened to your brother wasn’t your fault.”

Chris watched her demeanor soften, shifting from her previous facetious tone to a more somber tone. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m saying it because it’s the truth. You were a child.”

She shrugged sadly. “So was he.”

“That still doesn’t make it your fault.”

She turned away from where he sat across from her. She hadn’t even realized he’d moved from his initial position by the window. Untangling her legs, she moved the pillow to the side and stood in front of him. “Why are you so nice to me? You should be running for the hills.”

Chris brought his hands to her waist and pulled her in between his spread legs. “Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answers to?”

“Even after everything I’ve done?” She whispered, emotion betraying her for the umpteenth time that day. “You—you still—you still feel….like that about me?”

“You’re stubborn, impulsive, argumentative, flippant, and undoubtedly one of the most complicated women I’ve ever met.” He slowly stood up, never once breaking eye contact as he cupped her face, fingers brushing away the dampness of her flushed cheeks. “And yet, seeing you smile is the highlight of my day.”

She chuckled and nervously cleared her throat. “So, was today subpar? Like, medium light? Half-light? It all went downhill after 12pm.”

He shook his head and kissed her forehead. “You are, in fact, a hot mess.”

Her fingers grasped at his sleeves. “I really am sorry about ruining your evening.”

“You didn’t ruin my evening, Kaya.” He brought his hand to her hair, pushing back the tendrils that had fallen from her updo. “Thank you for opening to me. I know that wasn’t easy.”

“It’s a lot easier opening up my legs,” she muttered, watching as he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry—you’re right. It’s—it’s not easy, and I don’t like talking about….feelings.” Her eyes lifted as she chewed on her bottom lip. “But, I do have feelings for you.” She shut her eyes and licked her top lip. “And there’s something else I need to tell you.”

His gaze softened. “Anything.”

It was so simple, the opportunity was available, the setting was perfect. She’d already told him the hardest part, now all she had to do was tell him the rest. The problem though, was that what she’d shared hadn’t changed much. It only helped him to understand her better. It would potentially improve their relationship.

This would destroy it.

She cleared her throat again. “If you tell anyone I’m capable of crying, I will smother you in your sleep.”

He chuckled and kissed her temple. “It’s late. I’m going to shower.” He studied her. “Try not to get into any more trouble, yeah?”

She smiled softly. “I make no promises.”

He gave her side a gentle squeeze before yawning as he walked back into the bedroom. Finally alone, she fell back onto the sofa and hugged the pillow against her body. Kaya felt both disgust and frustration. If there was a perfect moment to tell him, that was it, and now it was gone.

She was running out of time

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TAGS: @islandvamp @toni9 @destinyg237 @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @missyperle @kpizzletrash @brittyevans @mani-lifes @amorestevens @periodtcevans @hello-therree @shegoesbyarose @lettytheletdown @yanniebunnie @iwrite4poc @nycoledon @fangurlingismyforte @babe-im-bi @amirra88 @cocoamoonmalfoy @goldenrosexx @liquorlaughslove @ljstraightnochaser @jurneesjourney @bestyums-ever84 @notacamelthatsmywife @champagnesugamama @cest-la69vie @yanniebunny5151 @goldenrosexx

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#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth fandom #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth x black!reader #chris hemsworth x black!oc #chris hemsworth x woc!oc #series: seasons of love

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tefilovesreading · 3 years

Text

Long overdue. Charlie Gillespie x OC

A/N: I’m really happy to finally share this one, it took me a while to finish it but I’m proud with the final result. I hope you love it as much as I do.

Summary: Charlie and Olivia used to be best friends, until he left their hometown to pursue his acting career without saying goodbye to his best friend, ruining their friendship. They meet again four years later.

Word count: +6k

Warning: some swearing, mention of a panic attack, angst????

Special thanks to my lovely @theamazingtomholland for helping me out and your sweet words! Also thanks to @thelawiswiththerose !!

MASTERLIST

When Olivia was just a kid, her grandfather used to joke about how she would grow up to become a historian because her memory was amazing,and she believed him. Until she realized that she had an excellent memory only when it came to things that matter to her or that made her the young woman she was now. She remembered meeting her current best friend on April 7th,four years ago. She knew her heart got broken for the first time on March 31st when she was only fifteen, it was a Monday, and she didn’t cry because she needed to get through her classes. Or how she lost a piece of herself when her grandpa died when she was just five years old on May 31st.

She unlocked her phone and felt her heart get a little bit heavier when she saw the date on the screen:

August 26.

Four years ago, when they both were eighteen, things were easier for sure, at least for Charlie. Olivia wasn’t doing bad either but seeing her childhood best friend kiss another girl in front of her wasn’t something she enjoyed. How could someone watch the person they’ve loved for years kiss someone else and not feel like they were getting their heart crushed little by little?

They spent the day with their friends, celebrating Charlie’s last birthday near the river before he moved to Toronto to pursue his acting career a week later. Olivia could still remember how happy he looked sitting next to the bonfire; his arms wrapped around his then- girlfriend laughing about something his friend had said. Sat just across from them, giving the couple and herself some space, she knew her heart was going to break again that night. And it did because he ditched her at the end of the night when he was supposed to make sure she got home safely just like he promised her parents he would.

She remembered how scared she felt walking back home in the dark by herself even when she knew their neighbourhood was safe and she wasn’t far from her house. But she was terrified of darkness and Charlie was the only one in their group of friends that knew it. Olivia cursed his name over and over again for putting her in that position, for leaving her alone, and thinking about the reason made her feel sick. Of course, she knew why he left without telling her but admitting it out loud wasn’t something she was willing to do.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she rubbed her eyes, making her put that memory away. It was her mother letting her know that their flight had just landed, and they were ready for their two weeks in the Caribbean.

“Seems like it’s gonna be just us, Peanut,” she whispered to the black dog curled up next to her on the couch. Scratching the dog’s belly, she turned her attention back to the TV where Meryl Streep was singing Money, Money, Money.

Her stomach growled, remembering that she barely had eaten something and it was already dinner time.

Noises outside her house caught her attention, they sounded a lot like laughs, instead of making her way to the kitchen, she went to the closest window and peeked outside just enough for her heart to drop.

He was there laughing without a care in the world, his hair falling back in messy waves that her fingers suddenly needed to touch.

Closing the curtains before her neighbors could see her, she wiped furiously the lonely tear that managed to escape from her eyes before it could leave a trail down her cheek.

What was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Los Angeles, not here. She made sure not to be in town whenever she thought he could come back, spending numerous mother’s days somewhere else, or making sure she wasn’t home for his mother’s birthday. Christmas was easier because her entire family gathered up in her grandma’s house every single year. But he never came back to their hometown for his birthday, until this year.

The anger she felt after his birthday four years ago came back like an earthquake, making her body tremble with the feeling she kept bottled up for so long.

It wasn’t just the fact that Charlie left her on her own when he promised to take her back home. He didn’t apologize the day after for leaving her alone or the day after that one. Hell, he didn’t try to talk to her that entire week and when the week came to its end, he just left, not even saying goodbye to her.

Charlie moved out and never looked back. As if he completely forgot about the girl that was his best friend since they both were eight years old. The same girl that stood up for him whenever the mean guys at their school made fun of him for not getting the part after his first couple auditions. The same girl he spent so many summers playing with, countless winters playing in the snow with her until they felt like their fingers were beyond frozen.

That was what she was hurt and mad about. He forgot about her existence and all the memories they ever made together. And Olivia couldn’t do the same because even if she hated to admit it, she still loved him, maybe not like she used to, but she still had love to give to the boy standing outside the house she used to spend so much of her free time when she was younger.

And because the universe was against her, the dog ran towards the front door, barking at it and letting her know that she wanted to go out for a walk.

“We can’t go now, baby,” she shushed Peanut, but the small dog didn’t try to pay attention to her words and kept barking and spinning in excitement. She wanted to go out now and not even a treat would make her change her mind, “you are so stubborn, Pea.”

Peanut was a small dog, but her barks were resonating all over the house, breaking the silence and she knew it was about time someone came and ringed the doorbell to make sure everything was alright. A fast exit, that was what she needed, she could put her earbuds on and pretend she was going for a run, give them a small nod if they still were outside and get out of there as fast as she could.

She put her sneakers on, put on some music, opened the door, and tugged lightly on the dog leash to make her dog walk. Not looking at the people standing in the driveway was a difficult task, because she never stopped greeting the rest of the Gillespie family. How could she? It wasn’t their fault that her friendship with Charlie went to shit.

“Hey!” Meghan called her and turning her head slowly she nodded at them and pointed to her earbuds as if she were on the phone.

Charlie looked at her and realized she was avoiding his eyes, not even acknowledging his presence. Looking at the way her features had changed, turning her into a beautiful young woman, the childish features were long gone, which let him know how long it has been since the last time he saw her in person. Her long light brown hair was now up to her shoulders and a few shades lighter. Watching her walk away made his heart ache in a way he didn’t feel since he moved out.

“I didn’t know the Gibson still lived here.” The words came out loud enough for his sister to listen to what he said, and she punched him in the arm.

“She made sure to be out of town every time you came home, dumbass,” making a grimace he nodded, not wanting to talk about the subject, “I still don’t understand what happened between you guys, you were really good friends, and I was sure you liked her as more than a friend.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing damn well Meghan wasn’t going to just drop it, “it’s none of your business.”

“My guess is you told her you liked her, and she rejected you,” Patrick said with a knowing look on his face. Charlie snorted and shook his head.

“Again,” he warned, “drop it, guys.” His brother held his hand up and went inside, leaving him alone with his younger sister.

“All I’m gonna say is you should try to not mess with her, Charlie,” Meghan held him by his arm, making sure he was paying attention to her word, “it was awful to see how sad and broken she was when you left and I know you said it’s none of my business, but I was her friend too and she pushed me away for whatever the fuck happened between you two.”

“I won’t, Meg,” he promised, guiding her inside so Olivia didn’t have to see him once she came back. But if he was being honest, he didn’t want to see the pain in her face she failed to hide when she saw him standing next to Meghan.

Sprinting back to her house, Olivia let out a sigh of relief when she saw that Charlie wasn’t outside anymore. She didn’t really know how to feel, sure she felt as angry as she did four years ago but seeing Charlie in person after so long brought a feeling she didn’t know how to describe. And of course, she wasn’t blind and knew that he looked even better than he did before he left, so that didn’t really help her situation.

Looking back to his house one last time, she caught him in the window, and he gave her a small smile she didn’t return. Instead, she unlocked the front door and slammed it shut. If Charlie thought that she would act as if nothing happened, he was wrong. Not even his smile could erase how betrayed she felt.

After a long early walk with Peanut the next day, she hoped she wouldn’t have to go out and run into Charlie again. The feeling that he was going to try and approach her the next time they ran into each other gave her goosebumps. Olivia knew that talking things out would make her feel a lot better, but she wasn’t ready to do it. He would want to know why she was so angry and hurt and that meant she would have to tell him she used to be in love with him and how betrayed she felt when he left without apologizing, leaving behind their friendship as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.

With an iced tea in one hand and a book in the other, she made herself comfortable in the hammock her father hanged every summer. Peanut was trying to catch her tail and the only noise Olivia could hear were the birds above her.

She lost track of time and Peanut’s barks brought her back to reality. Crouched in her garden was Charlie, trying to get the black dog to stay put so he could pet her, but she was too excited to see someone and was running around him and barking.

“What are you doing here?” her voice came out hoarse, her body too tense with Charlie just a few feet away.

“I wanted to say hi,” he responded without looking at her and still trying to pet Peanut.

“Peanut come here,” Olivia commanded, and the little dog ran up to her owner, “you need to leave.”

“C’mon, Liv,” Charlie stood up and looked at her with puppy eyes, “I just wanna talk.”

“Olivia,” she corrected him and picked up her dog, “you need to leave now.”

“Why?” he demanded to know once he saw her walking towards the door. She turned around stunned by his audacity.

“You have no right to be here, Charlie,” he raised his eyebrows, taken back at her harsh answer, “you don’t get to call me Liv or come into my house so I’m telling you again. Leave. Now.”

“Just listen to me, please,” Olivia shook her head and went inside, slamming the door behind her.

She was able to take a couple of steps away from the door when she had to kneel, feeling like she was about to pass out, her heart pounding fast in her chest and her lungs barely being able to hold air inside them. Peanut licked her face trying to calm her down, but the tears kept falling down her cheeks.

“Liv, please.” Charlie’s voice sounded worried on the other side of the door. “Let me in.” A whimpering sound came out of her mouth and the next thing she heard was the door being open.

She wished Charlie’s embrace could comfort her and calm her down, but she kept crying into her hands. Her heart too fragile now that Charlie was everywhere, his smell, his touch, and his voice were too much for her.

Charlie picked her up and took her to her bedroom. A strong feeling of nostalgia took over him when he saw the room hadn’t changed much, probably because she also moved out and moved on with her life after he left.

“I’ll get you a glass of water and then I’m gonna leave, I promise.” A scoff was all he received.

“As if you knew how to keep one,” she muttered with bitterness when she heard him leave her room.

He placed a glass of water on her nightstand, “do you want me to call my sister to keep you company?” she shook her head and closed her eyes too tired to keep fighting against him.

“Are you feeling better?” Charlie asked again and wiped a tear from Olivia’s cheek with his thumb. With a small nod, she turned her back to him. “Liv, I really wanna talk.”

“Stop calling me Liv, please.” The mattress shifted when Charlie sat beside her, not wanting to leave yet.

“I’ve never called you Olivia.”

“Charlie.” Her voice sounded raspy and incredibly tired and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for making her feel like that. “I really need you to leave me alone and let me get my shit together. Please.”

“Right,” Charlie stood up quickly and looked around not really knowing what else to say, “I’m sorry, Olivia. I never meant to make you feel like I cornered you or something.”

She didn’t respond, and when she heard the front door closing, she covered her head with a pillow and let out a scream. She hated to feel so powerless, so confused and so hurt. It felt like he just decided to reopen a wound that took too long to close and now it was painfully bleeding again.

It was heartbreaking to see her sobbing on the floor and not being able to calm her, to tell her that he never meant to leave like that.

“Where were you?” his sister questioned when she saw him with guilt all over his face, “Charlie, I told you not to mess with Olivia. What did you do now?”

“I don’t know.” He did though. He knew what did just a few minutes ago and what he did four years ago.

“Is she alright?” the hazel-eyed boy nodded and then shrugged, rubbing his palms over his face, feeling the frustration take over his body.

“I needed to talk to her, but she shot me down the moment she saw me, and then I think she was about to have a panic attack or something. She was better when I left.”

Charlie didn’t remember seeing her like that when they still were friends, Olivia was so determined and optimistic, not as impulsive as he was but always open for a new adventure or a trip with him and his siblings. But then, he started to have feelings for his best friend and decided that it wasn’t worth it to ruin their friendship and buried those feelings by getting a girlfriend just to act as if he wasn’t in love with Olivia. He knew it was mutual but what was the point of dating if he was going to move to Toronto and she was going to stay in New Brunswick.

Leaving her after his birthday four years ago was one of the things he regretted the most. He knew damn well she was afraid of the dark and yet he broke his promise. Charlie tried to put some distance between them so it wouldn’t hurt as much once he moved out, but he ended up messing everything.

“She didn’t even let me call her Liv, Meg.” His sister sat next to him and hugged him.

“We stopped calling her like that after you left,” she explained feeling sorry for him, “I guess it reminded her of you too much since you were the one that gave her the nickname.”

At lunchtime, Charlie made his way to his ex-best friend’s house with a portion of his birthday cake and the Tuna Pasta Salad his mom cooked for lunch. It wasn’t like he was planning to have lunch with her, but if getting her lunch and dessert gave him another shot, he’d even consider getting her breakfast the next morning.

He opened the backdoor just like he just did when they were younger and went straight into the kitchen, hoping she wouldn’t catch him sneaking into her house.

“Fuck it,” he whispered when he didn’t hear noise upstairs. With the food now in a tray, Charlie went upstairs.

Liv was in the same place she was before he left earlier. The Scottie lifted her head when he entered the room but didn’t bark at him and curled up again next to her sleeping owner. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he put the tray down and let out his breath.

“Hey,” his voice broke the silence they were in and Olivia moved in her sleep but didn’t wake up, “I got you food, Liv,” He said again this time a little bit louder.

“What?” she questioned; her mind fuzzy with sleep to understand what was happening.

“My mom made lunch and if I’m not wrong, it was your favorite.” The answer was simple, but why would he even bother to get her lunch if she told him to leave her alone.

“What time is it?” she asked again sitting up in bed rubbing her left eye with her hand.

“Time for you to eat,” the boy pointed to the tray next to her and stood up, “I brought you cake, I thought you’d like it.”

“Thanks?” Charlie let out a soft laugh and left. “Charlie!” She called out and he came back with a hopeful look in his eyes. “I made it,” Olivia pointed at the cake and his cheek started to turn pink in embarrassment.

“You made my birthday cake.”

Olivia shrugged as if it was nothing. “Meg asked me to,” she grabbed the fork and continued, “you know it’s my job, right?”

“What do you mean?” Charlie sat again in the bed taking every chance to keep the conversation going.

“I have a bakery.” She had a fucking bakery, and he didn’t even know. How would he? He never made questions about her, but he thought his family would tell him such a big thing. “Thanks for the food.” And that was his sign for him to leave.

“Thanks for the birthday cake.”

Olivia had her own bakery and made him a birthday cake, it was her job but still, she knew it was for him and made it anyway. That had to mean something, right?

Charlie was right, it was her favorite meal. She could have graduated from one of the most prestigious cooking schools in Canada but not even her fancy cooking school could beat Jeannette’s salad. She remembered Jeannette telling her that the magic was in her secret ingredient when she was younger and after all this time, she still wasn’t able to figure out what it was.

Her phone vibrated with a new notification and she smiled when she saw a picture of her parents with cocktails in their hands. She hated the fact that she’d have to leave a couple of days before they came back, but she needed to go and pack the few things she still had left in her old apartment back in Vancouver and move all her stuff across the country and into her new apartment.

The doorbell woke up the puppy from her nap and ran towards the door, letting Olivia know someone was outside.

“You would never think those barks belong to such a tiny animal,” Meghan chuckled when she opened the door and Peanut started to jump around her.

“Oh, I know, I get startled sometimes and she’s only eight months old,” she let the girl in not before giving the house across the street a nervous look.

“Char and my brothers went out,” Olivia nodded and thanked her quietly for the information, “I was bored so I thought you’d want to hang out.”

“Oh, sure,” she smiled at Charlie’s sister and felt guilty for all those times she said no whenever Meghan invited her over to hang out like they used to do, “I wanted to go to the farm and pick some fresh berries. I don’t know if you wanna go with me.”

“I don’t know,” Meghan scrunched her nose, and the gesture reminded the older girl of Charlie. If she didn’t grow up with them, she could’ve thought they were twins, “I’ll go only if you make me muffins.”

“That’s unfair,” Olivia said playfully, “I’m gonna change and we can head out.”

“I’m gonna stay right here so I can play with this cute baby,” Meghan cooed the dog and sat on the floor to play with her.

Running back into her room, she changed into some overalls and a top. She wanted to be comfortable on the farm and be able to move around without worrying about her skirt getting caught in the branches.

“I swear you and my brother are the only people I know that love wearing overalls,” Olivia’s cheeks blushed at her words, remembering very well how often Charlie used to come over wearing overalls and no shirt underneath.

“They’re comfy,” she said looking at her outfit with slight embarrassment.

“You look great, Liv.” Her eyes darted back at Meghan and decided not to make a big deal about the nickname.

“Your car or mine?” she questioned, picking up the keys and her bag.

“Yours, I don’t feel like driving.”

When Charlie landed his first role, he would spend a lot of time out of town filming, and eventually, both girls became closer. She could never compare her friendship with Meghan with the one she once had with Charlie because they were inseparable, they spent so much time together she was sure she had her first period when they were playing over at his house and both freaked out because they didn’t know what to do. Later that day he came over to her house with a chocolate bar and a single flower.

“My mom said you’d probably want some chocolate, so I got you your favourite.” She remembered the eleven years old Charlie said with his cheeks burning red.

She sighed at the memory, realizing how even such an important milestone in her life somehow involved the boy that was messing with her head lately.

“So…,” Meghan started once they both were on the road, “Charlie almost threw a tantrum because none told him you had a bakery.”

Olivia chuckled just imagining Charlie pouting with his arms crossed over his chest, “he never asked you guys.”

“It’s not that he didn’t ask about you,” She bit the inside of her cheek getting a little bit uncomfortable with the conversation, “I guess we all decided not to tell him about your life like he didn’t really deserve updates about you.”

“I get it,” stopping the car at a red light, she smiled at the girl sitting next to her, “I’m glad you didn’t have to deal with questions about me because if he wanted to know something, he should’ve asked me himself.”

Not like she’d have answered his calls or texts because she didn’t know if she would have. She thought she might have answered if he had reached out for her, but he never did.

Hanging out with Meghan was like breathing fresh air, both girls laughing and messing around while they picked fresh blueberries, their fingers getting tinted with the fruit’s juice. Snapping the last picture with their blueberries, they went back home.

“Can I post this one?” Meghan asked, showing her the picture where a smiling Olivia was holding a single blueberry in front of the camera while Meghan stuck her tongue out.

“Sure, I like it. Send me the others so I can post one too,” she commented, looking at the picture quickly before turning her attention back to the road ahead.

Once they got back home, Meghan took place in one of the stools in the kitchen, while Olivia got everything she needed to bake. She was about to start the mixer when her friend got a text and cursed under her breath.

“Everything alright?” she wondered with a raised eyebrow, confused at her friend’s reaction.

“I have to teach a dance class and I completely forgot about it,” with an apology written all over her face, she stood up and gathered her stuff, “I’m sorry, Liv, but I need to go or I’m gonna have a bunch of angry moms complaining about my absence.”

“Yeah, sure. Go don’t worry,” Olivia assured her with a chuckle, “I’ll take these babies to your house once they’re ready.”

“You’re the best. Thank you!” Meghan stated before running back to her own house.

Deciding it was better to put on some music while she baked, she went to connect her phone to the Bluetooth speaker when the back door opened, and Charlie waved at her with a shy expression on his face.

“Meg said you could use some help with the muffins.”

“Uhm…” Olivia frowned her brows slightly, knowing this was Charlie trying to apologize and make things better, “just put on some music,” she handed him the speaker and started the mixer.

She wasn’t sure how she felt with him sitting on the stool his sister was on just a few minutes ago, but the burning anger she felt the first day she saw him was missing. But they were far from being friends again, she told herself.

“How was your hike?” The words left her mouth quietly as an attempt to make small conversation and feel a little less observed by him.

“It was great, we got a bunch of nice pictures,” and there it was, she smiled to herself when she heard the excitement in Charlie’s voice, “we had to come back earlier because Pat’s bike got a flat tire, but it was fun.”

“So, you guys went cycling,” she stated the obvious just to make him talk about his little trip. God, she missed the way Charlie used to tell her about his day and how excited he was about little things, the same excitement he had now as he told her about the perfect spot that he found to take pictures and how he promised to a couple that he would send the cute picture he took of them as soon as he could.

Charlie used to remind her of a puppy, filled with excitement and energy and she let out a chuckle when she realised he was just like he was when they were teenagers.

“Did I miss my own joke?” he questioned, tilting his head with amusement.

Olivia shrugged, without bothering to look at him, too busy with her task, and said, “you’re just like a puppy, Charlie.”

“You used to tell me that a lot back then,” he pondered biting his lower lip, the energy in the room shifting at the mention of the friendship they used to have.

“I know.”

She didn’t know what else to say because she didn’t know how she felt about their interaction. Or the fact that Charlie was sitting there, just a few feet away from her just like they used to be when they were younger. Him watching and telling her stories while she busied herself with a new recipe.

“I’m glad one of us actually became a chef,” Charlie spoke again, breaking the silence. The girl didn’t respond, she poured the mix into the muffin cups not letting his words disrupt her. Once the tray was in the oven, she turned around and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the nostalgia wash away and the resentment took its place.

“Some of us stick to what we said, Charles.” The bitterness in her voice made the boy close his eyes, knowing very well the course this conversation was about to take.

“How many times do I have to apologize, Olivia?” She scoffed and shook her head in disbelief.

“You haven't said sorry not even once, Charlie.” Sure he said sorry for getting into her backyard without permission and invading her space the past two days, but he never apologized for the shitty move he did four years ago.

“You don’t even let me talk!” He argued back.

“Oh, come on, Charlie!” Olivia rolled her eyes and pointed a finger at him, “don’t start with that bullshit because you had a whole week to apologize for leaving me on my own when you said you’d walk me home, but you chose to stay quiet and then leave the town without even saying goodbye.”

“Shit, Liv,” he whispered when he saw her eyes welling up with tears, “please don’t cry.”

“Do you even realize how bad I felt when you left without saying goodbye?” she questioned drying her cheeks with the back of her hand, “I saw you get in that car with all your belongings and I waited for you to come and say goodbye, to text me or call me but you just left and now you come here as if nothing happened.”

“Liv, I’m sorry,” he told her, standing up so he could get closer to the girl that was facing him with hurt in her eyes, fighting to hold back the tears from falling. “You need to believe when I tell you I’m fucking sorry for doing that.”

She jerked away from him when he tried to hold her. “Thanks for the apology,” Olivia inhaled deeply, the scent of Charlie’s cologne too intoxicating now that she was trying not to fall apart in front of him.

“If you want me to go, I’ll go,” he mumbled, understanding she probably needed some space.

“I’ll take the muffins to your place once they’re done.”

Charlie stood there, right in front of the girl that once was his partner in crime, but now they were practically strangers to each other and that was all his fault. He wished he could hold Olivia in his arms and tell her over and over again how deeply sorry he was for being such a coward, for leaving her without an explanation. He just wanted to take away all the pain he already caused her and somehow still manage to hurt her again. With a heavy sigh, the boy turned around and headed back to his house.

She sat in one of the stools, trying to calm her heart down and process whatever just happened. Charlie apologized but the annoying feeling that she needed more than just an apology didn’t leave her chest. An explanation would be good, maybe that way she would be able to actually forgive him and understand why he did it because right now, she didn’t really see them being friends again. Not when she was still holding a grudge against him.

Standing outside Charlie’s front door, with a tray full of freshly baked muffins in her hands, Olivia decided to go through the side door. She was met with nothing but silence while she made her way into the kitchen and saw a figure sitting with a guitar near the river through the window. Unlike her house, Charlie’s backyard was next to the river and the woods, where she remembered playing hide and seek with Charlie and Meghan when they were little.

She left the tray on the kitchen counter and headed to where Charlie was sitting. It was weird walking around his house, after all, she avoided the Gillespie family as much as she could when Charlie left and kept their interaction to a minimum, and hadn’t been inside in a long time.

“Hey,” she said softly, taking place next to him, “I brought the muffins.”

“Thanks, Liv,” he gave her a small smile before he continued playing a soft melody on his guitar.

“I still don’t understand why you did it,” Olivia managed to say after a few minutes of sitting together in complete silence.

“I didn’t want to, it just happened and then I fucked up things even more by not saying goodbye,” he explained and looked at her, “I thought I could just sneak out with Quinn because your house wasn’t far, I mean we were right here that day, and I wasn’t really thinking.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t talk to me that week before you left.”

He placed the guitar by his side, turning around to give Olivia his full attention, she looked at him with a mix of sadness and shyness in her brown eyes.

“When I left with Quinn we were going to her place and hook up, I’m sure you know that, but we didn’t ‘cause I called her Liv right before we did anything,” her cheeks blushed at his confession but unable to believe his words entirely, “that’s why we broke up soon after my birthday, and I was so fucking embarrassed about my feelings…”

“You were embarrassed because you liked me, way to go, Charlie,” she interrupted him slightly offended.

“I didn’t say that, let me finish,” He demanded getting frustrated with the conversation, “I was embarrassed because I called her your name because I was thinking of you in a moment I shouldn’t have,” he paused unsure of how Olivia was going to react at his next word, “that’s when I realised my feelings for you were a lot stronger than I thought and I got scared because I knew I was leaving.”

“Charlie,” she told him, confusion laced in her voice “did you even like Quinn?”

“No, not really. I kinda forced myself to be with her ‘cause I didn’t want to ruin our friendship” Charlie answered and then let out a sad laugh, “I guess it didn’t work out as good as I thought.”

“You know I liked you, right?” her voice was barely a whisper and her stomach fluttered when she saw him smile at her and nodded in response, “was I that obvious really?” When Charlie nodded again she covered her face with her hands in pure embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry, Liv,” he apologized again, and she rested her head on his shoulder, “if I could take all that back I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I guess I understand now,” Charlie could hear the soft smile even if he wasn’t seeing her face, “don’t get me wrong, it hurt like shit to see how you moved on as if I didn’t exist, but I get that you were scared and we both ended up messing up our friendship.”

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to be friends again?” Olivia turned around, meeting his gaze and sighed.

“Maybe?” she answered, scrunching her nose unsure of it.

They stayed like that for a while, Charlie’s gaze moving from her eyes to her lips from time to time, debating if he should just go for it or not. It was her that took the initiative and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a kiss that, just like the apology, was long overdue.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmured against her lips before kissing her again, leaving the shyness behind and cupping her face between his hands pulling her closer as if that way they could make up all the time they spent apart.

They both pulled away when they heard his older brother hollering at them from the balcony and Olivia laughed when Charlie flipped him the middle finger. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

Of course, they still needed to talk a lot and find a way to work things out now that their feelings were out on display. But she had a good feeling about giving them a new shot, because, after all those years, they still managed to find their way back to each other.

#charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp cast imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #luke patterson x reader #jatp imagine

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

Text

As Usual

Pairing: Mando x Reader

Summary: When Mando finds himself in need of some help in a tiny village on Arbiflux, he may leave with more than he expected.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual assault (or at least alluding to it), a lot of unimportant OC’s with names to fill the town

Word Count: 5700

A/N: This is my first Mando fic so I’m really sorry if it sucks. I tried though and if you guys enjoy this, I have an idea for another one.

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The Mandalorian caught your attention the moment he walked into your family’s blacksmith shop. Tall, angular, and mysterious, the man landed his ship in the large clearing just on the other side of the river from where your town was and made his way across the utilitarian wooden bridge directly to the shops. You watched in curiosity as this new stranger made his way into your village, a small bundle of something you couldn’t make out walking right next to him.

You had heard stories of the Mandalorians and the Great Purge, though you were no expert by any means on anything other than simply knowing they existed. Seeing one in person though felt surreal. For all you’d known, they’d been killed off years ago. But apparently not all because one was approaching you quickly.

“Can I help you?” You asked, taking your worn protective leather gloves off and walking towards the open mouth of your family’s forge where the Mandalorian had approached.

“I need a part for my ship to be fixed.” He answered shortly in a vaguely robotic voice.

Tousling your fingers through your locks, you attempted to blindly force the stray hairs into place, “Well, we don’t get too many visitors with ships here. Your best bet for finding someone who can fix your ship would probably be in the city.”

“Where is the nearest city?” He questioned, lifting a small bundle of tan fabric off the ground. Your brows furrowed when you saw that there was a small wrinkly green baby but the Mandalorian tucked the child further into his chest, almost shielding him from your view for some odd reason.

Writing the action off, you pointed to your right with your thumb, “About ten miles west.”

“How long is it to travel?”

“On foot, about four hours. With a kaadu, maybe two.” You explained, gesturing to the large reptilian creatures in the pens around town. Mando sighed heavily and you got the impression he was on a limited time constraint, “What do you need fixed?”

The man shifted, “The ventilation system. The fins on the fan are damaged, blocking it from spinning. The oxygen is hardly circulating throughout the ship.”

“Broken fins? They metal?” You asked, to which the man just nodded, “I might be able to help if that’s the only problem. Can I see?”

The Mandalorian led you back to his ship and you walked inside, skin crawling with excitement. You’d never been on a ship before. Like you’d told the man earlier, they never really landed in your little village and you seldom traveled to the bigger cities. It was like a metal maze, cramped but still somehow roomy enough to be comfortable.

You took in your surroundings as he led you through the small hallways, stopping when you saw an almost book-like assortment of massive sheets of a black substance with what appeared to be carvings of screaming people. An uneasiness settled in the air that the Mandalorian noticed, glancing back over his shoulder to see you looking at his assortment of bounties that had been frozen in Carbonite. Since people had come after him, he wasn’t really sure what to do with the criminals he had yet to deliver but the thought was always pushed off. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere.

“They’re alive. Just should have cooperated.” Your brows furrowed in confusion at his words so he continued reluctantly, “Bounties.”

“Oh, you’re a bounty hunter?” You asked, relaxing slightly. Knowing that whoever these people were were both criminals and still alive, you felt a little better. They must have been pretty bad people if they had bounties on their heads.

You were far from naive but you weren’t well experienced in matters of the universe. Arbiflux had been your only home, and, even then, you seldom left your small village. Always work to do, anything to help your family. You’d always dreamed of adventure though, getting off the forested planet and exploring the galaxy. The Mandalorian must have travelled all over the galaxy in his line of work and seen so much. It made you envious. You took his silence to your first question as an agreement so you continued, “I’d imagine work would have taken you all over the place. I’ve never left this planet. Hell, I’ve only ever left the village a handful of times.”

“I have been to quite a few planets.” His modulated voice humored your musings, turning to continue his way to the ventilation system.

You trailed behind, vague metal echoes following your boot covered footsteps, “What are they like?”

“A lot of desert planets. Some have swamps. Some have forests. Some are just cities. A few are all ice. Some are a combination.” As he spoke, you fantasized about all the planets that could be out there. You had done so many times before and every time the new planets became more and more fantastic, sometimes to an unrealistic degree. But how could anything be unrealistic when you didn’t really know the constraints of reality in your own universe?

“I’ve always wanted to see them.” You mused out loud, “Your ship is really nice by the way.”

Mando looked back at you and, although you could see no hint of expression behind the helmet you immediately recognized as being made from beskar, he had an eyebrow cocked at you. It didn't sound like you were making fun of him but he knew the Razor Crest was anything but. "You haven't seen many ships before, have you?"

With a small shrug and slightly twisted face, you shook your head, "We don't get too many people coming through town and I don't make it into the city often."

Mando almost felt bad for you. He had learned how to read people easily and you were an open book. It was in the way you stood, the words you spoke, the way your eyes twinkled in amazement at the smallest things on his ship. You were a girl who loved her family and had a sense of duty to them. He assumed by the look of the shop you worked in that blacksmithing was a generational career, probably dating back to your grandparents, at least. He could see the love for your community and home but he also saw a fire for adventure, for anything other than what you knew. With every word, every little subconscious movement, his image of you became clearer and clearer.

"This is the fan." Mando stopped suddenly and pointed to an open panel in the ship's wall. You halted quickly, having almost forgotten why you entered the Razor Crest to begin with. "The rest of the system works. I was able to fix the wiring. It's just this part here that was damaged and now it won't rotate. It won't circulate the oxygen."

He stepped to the side, allowing you to step in and inspect the damage. It was a long cylindrical metal piece with five slanted blades evenly spaced around the circumference. There was a mechanism in the middle that led you to assume that it spun around on some metal rod and the blades circulated the oxygen throughout the ship. Sure enough, two of the blades were bent and crumpled, so much so that when you gave the device a little test nudge to see if it would spin at all, it only rotated an inch or so before the crumpled fans hit another part of the system with a klink, preventing it from moving more.

"As long as these just need to be flattened and straightened out, this should be a breeze. I could have it done by the end of the day." You continued to inspect the blades to get a full understanding of the damage. "So what happened to it anyway?"

"There was an altercation on board with a passenger. A stray shot from her gun hit the panel that used to cover this and it bent everything up." Mando remembered the fight with the Twi'lek woman. She was a fellow bounty hunter, yet another person who wanted the money for the Child.

The slight black scar from the laser on the wall confirmed the report and you ran your finger over the smudge, curious to see if it would wipe away. It didn't. "Sounds like such an interesting life."

“You said you could have it done by the end of the day?” The Mandalorian ignored your wistful comment and set the Child on the ground, making sure he stayed in eyesight. He didn’t see you as someone who would harm the baby but he also couldn’t be sure after everything that had happened.

You nodded, “Yeah, this looks pretty simple. But you’re going to have to take it apart. I have no clue how any of that works and I don’t want to be responsible if it breaks.”

“That’s no problem.” The Mandolorian stepped over and pulled on a few wires, disconnected a few fuses, and before you knew it, the overall fan had dislodged from its place with a hiss of decompression. He turned it in his hands until he found the button he had to push to unlock the mechanism holding each blade in place. It took no time before he handed you the broken blades one by one.

You held the blades in your arms, moderately sized at about 18 inches long and 9 inches across. Leaning forward, you inspected the intact ones to get an idea of how these needed to be shaped. “Well, there’s not much to do in the village while you wait, I’m afraid. There’s a little bar you could hang out at I suppose. They serve some decent food.”

“Thank you. I’ll be around.” He responded in his typical concise manner.

The blades really were quick work, like you’d expected. What took the longest was the order you had before, which was making the metal wedges of Naz Ta’ron’s ridge plow that he’d ordered to be made last week. Farm equipment made up most of your work, unfortunately, aside from the occasional weaponry. The weaponry never took too long, definitely not as much as you’d like. Making swords and hatchets was a hell of a lot more interesting than manufacturing plows and wheels.

By the time the sun had just begun to set, you had finished the third blade, dipping the last blazing orange, newly repaired fan blade into the large bucket of water, bubbles sizzling aggressively at the contact with the nearly molten metal and cooling it rapidly. After setting it down on the workbench to cool, you untied your leather smock and brushed the loose strands of hair out of your face. As far as you could remember, these looked exactly like the intact fans back on the ship, though in better condition. You had no idea what they looked like new but this had to be close.

Throughout the day, you’d watched from afar as the Mandalorian had wandered through the booths before returning to the ship with what you presumed to be a basket full of supplies. That was earlier in the day and he’d since been waiting in the bar you’d told him about earlier. You powered down the forge and gathered the fans before walking over to the bar. It was only a few buildings down, no more than a few hundred feet away, so the walk was quick. People meandered around town on their usual paths, the ones you came to know each person in the small village to take by heart.

When you entered the bar, the usual people were in there. K’jann Ving, Jared Amavia, and Haera Kiwai all sat in their usual seats with their usual drinks. All so usual. The only thing out of place was the Mandolorian sitting at the booth in the corner with his little baby whatever-he-was.

He noticed you enter right away, which wasn’t saying much considering the small size of the room. You walked right up to the table, “Fans are all finished up. Figured I’d drop them off.”

You placed the sheets of metal on the table. The Mandolorian reached down beneath the table and pulled out a small brown bag, “How much?”

“30 credits?” You estimated, not really knowing how to price such a repair. Compared to other weapon repairs, though this was only slightly more because there were more than one things needing repairing.

The Mandolorian began to sift through his bag, presumably counting out the coins. The little green baby by his side stared up at you with adorable large eyes and cooed. You couldn’t help the smile that crept on your face when his tiny arms reached out towards you, though you made no move to pick him up, opting to give him a tiny wave instead. Babies had always seemed to like you. Your nieces and nephews had loved you from the moment they were born.

A commotion sounded from outside the bar that stole your attention away from your payment and the Child. Your brows furrowed when you made eye contact with K’jann, who looked equally as confused as you did. Jared stood up from his spot at the bar and walked to the door, “What the hell is going on out there?”

Before he could find an answer, a bright flash of light struck him in the chest and he fell, lifeless. You shrieked and jumped at the unexpected attack. “Get down!” The Mandolorian demanded, pulling you closer to him before shoving the table over. He pushed you to the ground, scooped the child up, and placed him beside you hurriedly before you could comprehend what was happening. You were lying on the ground on your back, using the table as a wall of sorts to shield from the gun shots that were assailing towards you.

“Protect the Child!” The Mandolorian demanded of you, his voice surprisingly calm considering he had just been randomly attacked.

The baby reached up and clung to your shirt, struggling to pull himself up into your arms for protection. You reached around his body and scooped him up, flinching when a blast of laser zinged a little too close to your face for comfort.

“You’ve been a hard one to reach, Mando. You could’ve just given us the Child and it would all be done with but now we’re gonna kill you, take the kid, and your shiny armor.” A man’s voice taunted from the other side of the table barricade.

What the hell kind of trouble was this guy in?!

The Mandolorian jumped over the table and you reached out for him, his cape slipping through your fingers as he disappeared into the fight “Wait!” You called out to now avail. What the hell was he doing? There were a few grunts and groans. The laser blasts stopped being directly in your direction and began to be shot more erratically around the room.

“Get him out of here!” The Mandolorian’s modulated voice yelled at you from the other side.

This was it. You were going to die. This was what you got for craving adventure.

The baby squirmed against your body, making little fearful noises. Rolling over onto your knees, you scooped up the baby and held him tightly against your chest before reaching into your pocket and procuring a blaster. Peeking around the corner of the table first to ensure that it was clear to run, you took off like a bullet, darting as quickly as possible to the door.

The Mandalorian was fighting against two humans, a Rodian, and a Cerean woman at once. It appeared like he had them until the massive Cerean woman pinned him on the table, hand crushing over a part of his forearm that he seemed in a struggle to have access to.

You didn’t know anything about this man other than the fact that he was a bounty hunter with a broken ventilation system. Why did you want to help him? Why were you putting your life on the line to aid him when you knew damn well he could very clearly be in the wrong? Why did you trust him so much when you knew literally nothing about him?

The Cerean woman fell on top of the Mandalorian the moment you pulled the trigger. He groaned at the heavy weight but used her body to knock one of the human men down. He quickly tapped on his forearm, right where the woman had been pressing, and a large flame shot out towards the Rodian, who shielded his face.

You began to run towards the door again, so close to escaping with the child, but something hard suddenly knocked your feet out from under you and you crashed to the ground with a painful thud. You clutched the baby close to your chest as you fell, using your body to shield him from the impact. Your eyes opened to see a tall Zabrak woman that you hadn’t seen previously standing over you.

“Aw, Mando! Using some little village girl to save the kid? That’s a new level of low.” She chuckled sadistically, rolling her eyes from the Mandalorian and back to you, “Sorry, babe, you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. Hand over the kid so I don’t have to kill you.”

You froze in fear for a moment, brain stuck buffering in a desperate attempt to comprehend the situation you were in.

“Guess I have to kill you.” She continued with an unapologetic shrug after only a second or two. She had a large staff in her hand that she spun around with skill, picking up enough momentum for the black metal rod to look like a blur, before slamming it down right where your head was. Thankfully, you rolled to the side just in time for the stick to slam into the ground with enough force that it very easily could have killed you.

Without a second thought, you aimed the blaster that was still in your hand just in time and shot her square in the chest. Her body crumpled into a heap of black robes, her staff clattering to the ground. It took you a moment to realize that the commotion had ceased.

The Mandalorian hurried over to you, “Are you okay?”

Your whole body was shaking but you nodded, adrenaline pumping through your veins, “What the hell was that about?” You demanded, sitting up finally. When you looked around, you noticed that everyone who had attacked was dead. The other patrons of the bar had seemed to escape.

Mando reached to take the kid from your grasp but stopped when he noticed how the small alien snuggled into your body like it was the safest place in the galaxy. You looked down to inspect his little body for injuries but he thankfully appeared unharmed. “I’ve been quested to bring him to the Jedi. He was originally a bounty I was supposed to bring in but I learned that the man who wanted him was going to hurt him. I couldn’t give him up. It’s my duty to protect him. People all over the galaxy like this have been trying to get the bounty on both of our heads.”

“What’s so special about him?” The baby looked like any other baby alien. You hadn’t necessarily seen many baby aliens but this one didn’t seem particularly extraordinary.

“I honestly don’t know for sure. I do know he can do things with his mind when he wants to, though. I figure it has something to do with that.” He extended a hand, pulling you up to your feet, “I’m sorry you got involved.”

You shook your head slightly, looking around at the bodies littering the bar, two of which you were responsible for killing, “You said they were going to hurt the baby?” You asked rhetorically, “It’s no problem.”

“Do all small town blacksmiths just carry blasters on them?” He asked, nodding towards the gun that was still in your hand.

You tucked it away again, “We’ve gotten a few less than pleasant visitors from neighboring cities and towns. Just some jerks who come to town looking to pick a fight with the men or take what they want from the women. Pull out a blaster, it’ll usually put them in their place.”

Mando thought about what that actually meant for a moment and a few more pieces of the puzzle that was you began to click together in his head. He couldn’t help but wonder how many times you’d had to pull the gun on a man who was trying to take advantage of you and the thought made his heart sink. He didn’t know you nearly at all but nobody deserved that. There was a twinge of protectiveness in his chest that made him want to track down anyone who’d ever threatened that sort of harm to you and show them just how good at killing the Mandalorians really were.

There wasn’t time for that, though. If these five bounty hunters were here by now, there’d be more soon. He couldn’t risk getting caught up with any more people who wanted to take the Child. “Well you’re a good shot,” He complimented with a small nod of his helmet, “Anyways, we need to take off now. If they already knew we were here, others will be here soon. You said the parts were ready?”

You nodded, “They were. I’m not exactly sure where they are now, though.” Your face twisted as you gestured around the freshly wrecked bar, furniture pieces just as strewn out of place as the cups and plates that were on them.

The two of you looked around for the fans and people from around town slowly funnelled into the bar, also helping to clean up the debris from the attack. “You need to go.” Zim Golu, the bar’s owner stood over Mando, who was crouched down to pick up one of the fans that he’d finally found. Zim Golu’s arms were crossed, his cheek bleeding from being hit with something during the fight.

“I’m sorry about the damage,” Mando stood up, “I just need to find a part for my ship and we’ll be off this planet as soon as it’s installed.”

Zim Golu stepped closer, “I don’t care about your part. I want you out of my bar.”

You looked over from the next table over, setting down the chair you had picked up where it was supposed to be. “What’s the problem?” You questioned, walking over to the pair with furrowed brows.

“There’s no problem.” Mando responded calmly, “We’ll be leaving as soon as I find the pieces I need.”

“No, he’ll be leaving now.”

The Child, who had been wandering around the building while you all cleaned, came up and held onto your leg. You glanced down before gently running your fingers over his head. “We cannot leave without these pieces. The oxygen can’t move through the ship without them. We barely made it here as it was.” Mando again was calm but insistent.

“What don’t you understand, Mando? Look at the trouble you’ve caused my bar and this whole town.” Zim Golu clearly had no intention of backing down, despite the fact that the intimidating Mandalorian towered over him.

You stepped forward and extended your arm between the men, “Mando, why don’t you go back to the ship and wait there. I will look for the pieces and deliver them when I find them.” You sent Zim Golu a look that told him that that was what was going to be what happened, whether he liked it or not. “How’s that?”

The bar owner shot Mando a dirty look before pointing to the door, “Don’t come back to this place again.”

Mando stood strong and emotionless under the shield of beskar and stared down Zim Golu as he walked away.

“I’ll meet you at your ship in a few. We’ve already found two so the last one shouldn’t take long to find.” Mando looked down at you while you spoke. You handed him the first two fans you found, “Maybe you can get these installed while you wait. I’m sorry about Zim Golu. He’s always cranky.”

“No, I understand. I’d be mad if my bar was destroyed by strangers too. Thank you for looking. We’ll be on the ship,” He beckoned for the Child to follow him out the door but the baby was hesitant, only wanting to be near you for some reason, “C’mon.” Mando picked up the baby and carried him out.

Finding the last fan was more difficult than you had hoped. When the table was pushed over, it had been kicked under a shelf in the corner and it took you lying face down on the ground to finally see it.

When you got to the ship, you awkwardly stepped up onto the ramp that led up to the Razor Crest and just up to the entrance of the main hull, “Uh, hello? Mando? It’s Y/N. I found the fan.” You announced, looking around while you waited for the man to appear before entering the ship.

He climbed down a small ladder and approached you. You extended the fan blade out to him, “Here it is. Sorry it took so long.” You apologized, following Mando as he took off down the hall towards the ventilation system. “How did the other two fit? Is it working?”

He stopped by the busted open wall panel that was supposed to conceal the ventilation system and pulled out the cylindrical piece that the blades attached to. He slipped the last one into place and it fit perfectly, “They fit nicely. Now we just need to see if it works.” He slid the mechanism back into place and reattached all the wires that he’d removed earlier. “Stay here and tell me if it spins properly. I’ll head up to the cockpit and activate it.”

With that, he disappeared before you could protest (not that you were going to) up to where you assumed the cockpit was. You waited patiently until the low hum of the ventilation system kicked on and the fan began to rotate without a hitch. The Child waddled around the corner and right to you, arms up, asking to be held. You lifted him into your arms with a smile and held up your palm to him, “We fixed it! High five, buddy. Or, well, high three, I guess.” You chuckled, counting his fingers. The baby didn’t understand what you were trying to achieve so you gently tapped the palm of your hand against his in a forced high five.

“Is it working?” Mando’s robotic voice asked from behind you and you spun around to face him.

You nodded, “Everything’s looking good.”

Mando immediately noticed the Child in your arms but, for once, he didn’t tense up at it. You felt safe, which perhaps was an error to assume such characteristics, but he couldn’t help it. Besides, he’d never seen the Child so affectionate with anyone other than himself. “Thank you for all of your help. I’m sorry about the trouble we brought with us.”

“It’s no problem. If I’m being honest, it was kind of thrilling.” You chuckled, looking away with a small blush. That probably made you sound crazy.

A silence settled over the two of you and Mando watched as your attention quickly turned back to the Child in your arms. “He really likes you.” Mando noted, “He’s not usually like that.”

A small smile appeared on your face, “Well I must say I’m pretty fond of him too. He’s adorable. And, for what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is really noble.” You told the Mandalorian. Why did complimenting him give you butterflies? You had no idea what the man looked like. For all you knew, he could have tentacles for a mouth or four eyes. But, regardless, there was just something about him that made you uncomfortable in the best way - in the sort of way that left your skin crawling with excitement and a constant little urge in the back of your head that made you desperate for him to like you.

“I appreciate that.”

Another small moment of silence again left you rocking back and forth on your heels. “Where are you off to next?” You inquired curiously.

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out though. Tatooine isn’t too far from here. We might go there and lie low for a day or two.” Mando responded.

A question had been whirring around your mind since the Mandalorian first arrived and enlisted your help but you didn’t realize how hard asking it would actually be. You knew, though, that this was your last chance. “Can I come with?” You asked, the words coming out quickly.

“This isn’t a passenger ship.” He answered simply.

“I don’t mean like a taxi or whatever. I mean... “ You struggled to figure out how to ask, “Can I come with you guys? Wherever you go, I don’t really care. I don’t have any money to pay you but I can help however you need. I have some survival skills in the wilderness. I can sort of fix some things. I have child care experience. And I’m a fast learner for anything else you might need.” You chewed your lip while waiting for the Mandalorian to respond.

“Why would you want to do that?”

You sighed, “I just… I don’t want to die here knowing I never did anything but smash metal with a hammer. I don’t want to spend my whole life stuck in this little village when there’s an entire galaxy out there to see. I understand that joining you would mean a life of danger but I think I’m willing to risk that.”

Mando pondered the proposition. He had no actual need for a companion on his journey to deliver the Child to the Jedi but he could see the potential luxury in having one. Clearly, the Child really liked you. Fighting and caring for the Child was difficult at times and having an extra pair of hands would definitely prove helpful. Although you weren’t a trained warrior, you could hold your own in a fight and had no problem pulling the trigger when the moment called for it. You did have the ability to fix things that he wasn’t able to, at least when you had the proper tools.

Beyond that, he could see your desperateness to leave this planet. Mando had never been what many would call a “softie.” He did what needed to be done and would do whatever it took to meet those ends. He had his ethics, of course, and obviously he felt bad for the people that he couldn’t help but he had to admit that he often had the “not my problem” mentality. Perhaps it was attributed to his newfound position as a father figure or maybe it was because he actually cared about you for some unknown reason, but he found himself sympathizing with your situation. He could see in your eyes that you saw hope in him and the Razor Crest as a way to get off Arbiflux. This was your opportunity to leave behind a life of “the usual.” But he still couldn’t help but find himself stuck on what you said earlier about the men from neighboring towns coming in to take advantage of the women here. The fact that you carried a gun in an otherwise safe community simply to defend yourself against men like that actually enraged him. His “not my problem” mentality seemed to be receding to his yearning to help you in some way, especially after all you’d done for him.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. “People try to kill us almost everywhere we go. You will never be safe. Can you handle that?”

With a hard swallow, you nodded your head.

“We are leaving in thirty minutes. Take only what you need.”

Your eyes widened with surprise and a big smile spread on your face, “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yes. As long as you understand what coming with me entails, I could use the help.” Mando didn’t actually hate his decision to allow you to come with. Part of him was actually a little excited to have another person, an actual companion, on board. Of course, he would gladly kill you or strand you on an icy planet the second you indicated any harmful intent towards the Child but that seemed highly unlikely at the moment.

The way you did a little excited jump made him smile under the helmet. Your enthusiasm and gratefulness gave you a humble, real, and, frankly, slightly adorable energy, despite the badass edge of literally forging blades and shooting people. “Thank you so much! You won’t regret this. I will be right back!” He watched as you ran off the Razor Crest, presumably to your home to grab a bag of personal belongings.

Mando moved to the main hold and sat on a box, the Child standing on the ground and looking up at him. He could have sworn that the little green baby was giving him that look. It was the look that kids gave their friends when their crush walked by. “Hey, knock that off. You better be on your best behavior for her. She’s willing to help you not get killed so be thankful she’s coming along.” Mando told the tiny being, who just giggled in response. “We’re just helping her! It’s not like that.” Mando insisted to the Child, exasperated with his silent (imagined) insistence. It didn’t occur to him that he really was just arguing with himself.

He stood up and did a once around the ship to try and work out the logistics of living with you. Frankly, he wasn’t sure where you’d sleep or how living with another person was going to work as it had been so long since he’d spent more than a few days with someone. All Mando knew was that he wasn’t totally dreading your company.

#mando x you #mando x y/n #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djaren #din djarin fics #mando imagine #mando fic #pedro pascal #star wars

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bakugoooooooo · 3 years

Text

LOV TAKES BAKUGOU

Angst? Little fluff at the end

Oc has a quirk like Wanda Maxoff

Putting Bakugou in his place 😤

Female reader x Bakugou

Warnings: none

Y/n insert is mine, but characters aren't

Bold italics means thoughts being spoken by Oc to others or herself if that makes sense???

When I finally came too, I tried to get a bearing of where I was, or at least remember what happened. The last thing I remembered was that me and Bakugou were kidnapped by the League of Villains and then were knocked unconscious.

“Oi. I know you're awake now.”

I open my eyes, squinting as my eyes get adjusted to the lights. I look to my left and see Bakugou tied, or should I say chained, to a cement chair. I look at my own situation, seeing that I was also chained to my chair. Well this is problematic. I said to myself, except it accidentally sent it to Bakugou as well.

Hey, get out of my head. He responded back to me.

“Sorry, whatever they did to knock us out really did a number on me. My brain is a little frazzled.” I had a huge headache and the coldness of the room wasn’t helping either. “How long have we been here?”

“Don’t know. I just woke up a few minutes before you did.”

I only hmm in response. After a few minutes he speaks up again. “I’m gonna get us out of here. There’s no way that I’m letting some dumb villains keep me here.”

“You got a plan? How can I help?” Despite his awful attitude I know he’s smart. There has to be a reason he’s been the top of the class all year. Right?

“What? Did you not hear me? I said I was gonna get us out of here!” Nevermind, he’s an idiot.

“Seriously? Again with this me, myself, and I attitude? You really haven't changed have you?” I sigh looking away from him. “Look. The fact of the matter is we have a better chance of getting out of here if we work together. The pros are probably already close to finding us and when they do we need as much information as we can to give to them. Tell me this. What was I gonna be doing in this plan of yours?” I look straight at him now. “Was I just gonna stay put or hide in the corner while you take out the bad guys? I was taken too. So, I have as much of a reason as you to fight my way out of this too.”

He looks away, his sharp features softening a little. He turns to look at me, and right when he’s about to say something to me the door opens.

“Well, well, well. Looks like the kiddos are finally awake.” Shigaraki, leader of the League of Villains says to us. “Dabi. Untie them.”

“What are you crazy? They’re just going to try and escape.” The presumed Dabi says.

“Nonsense, these are our guests. So, we should treat them as such.” Shigaraki replies back. “You see I brought you back here because I want you to join our group. And as for you l/n. I think you can have a promising future with us. I didn’t see you at the sports festival, but I do know from what my associates here told me is that you're strong. You want to protect your loved ones, right? I can promise you that soon the only way to do that will be if you join our side.” I stay quiet as he tries to convince me. Is this guy for real, he injures all these people, my classmates, and still thinks I'll join his side?

“Twice. You do it.” To the right of Dabi is a man dressed in a bodysuit from head to toe.

“Why do I gotta do it!?” He says immediately followed by a “Yes Sir.”

Me and Bakugou glance at each other as Twice unties me first, then Bakugou. Wanna tell me that plan of yours cause now would be as good a time as any?

Just be ready. We're gonna need a shield for what I'm about to do.

Once Twice finishes untying Bakugou he sends a blast towards the villains. I put a shield blocking us from them. Shigaraki looks down at the ground, looking at the hand that was once on his face. Then, the news comes on the TV in the background. The media is trying to make Mr. Aisawa take the blame for what happened. IT WASN’T EVEN HIS FAULT. Suddenly Mr. AIzawa stands up.

“Bakugou’s trying harder than anyone in his pursuit to become the top hero. If the villains think they have a chance with him, then they are grossly mistaken. I can guarantee you that much. And as for l/n, she has a good head on her shoulders and a fierce determination to do the right thing and help others. If the villains think they can easily convince her to join their side, even after harming the rest of her classmates, then they have another thing coming.” Mr. Aizawa finishes.

Wow. The teachers really do get us.

With a laugh Bakugou says, “Ha. Did you hear the teachers? They get me more than I thought. I’ll never join your league of idiots!”

“Me neither!” I am still trying to hold the shield up, protecting me and Bakugou. Then, Bakugou starts signaling to his head so I look inside.

They went through the trouble of mounting a huge attack, all just to bring me back here. The idiots even told us what they wanted. For us to join their pathetic group. Which means I know they won’t kill us. What a bunch of amateurs. Now’s our chance. We gotta take a couple of ‘em down quick, and get out of here.

I scanned all of the villains in front of us, checking to see if they were going to make a move at us. You're right. We need to get out of here fast. They may still want us to join, but now that we’ve told them that we won’t join, who knows what their next move will be.

Bakugou nods slightly and starts to yell, “WE MAY NOT BE AT CAMP, BUT WE’RE STILL ALLOWED TO FIGHT!” Then, the villains start to get ready to get ready to fight. Me and Bakugou get into a fighting position, but freeze when Shigaraki stares us dead in the eyes.

“Don’t lay a finger on them. Any of you.” he says. He talks about how he hoped we could all come to an understanding, to which me and Bakugou shut down immediately.

“What do you think we’re the same? Not a chance.” Bakugou starts.

“We are nothing alike.” I stare at him.

“Master, lend me your power” Shigaraki looks back at the TV. Master? Who else is part of the League of Villains?

“Kurogiri. Compress. It’s time to put them back to sleep.” Compress starts walking up to us and I get ready to fight. Me and Bakugou need to get to the back door if we want any chance of getting out of here. But how?

Suddenly there is a knock from the back door followed by a faint “Pizza delivery” coming from behind it. We all stare at the door in anticipation, when the wall to the right of me caves in with All Might punching his way in. Then, pros start piling in, capturing all the villains at lightning speed.

All Might walks up to us “Ah. you must have been scared, but you stayed strong. I’m sorry. You're both safe now.”

I let out a long sigh that I didn’t know I held in and looked at Bakugou. He looks like he’s on the verge of tears, but holds it in. I feel sorry for him.

“WHAT I WASN'T SCARED! NOT EVEN CLOSE!” Bakugou yells back. I try to hold in a laugh and he looks at me. He calms down after that.

However, I stop when Shigaraki keeps yelling that he hasn’t lost yet. I get that he still has his “master,” but there’s no way he thinks he can still win, right? Out of nowhere, giant blobs appear and start coming out of them. I start to feel like vomiting and I spit up that same looking blob. What the heck. In a split second, I see Bakugou having the same problem. Then, all I see is black. I reappear next to Bakugou in what looks like a broken warehouse. We start coughing up the rest of the blob.

“My apologies Bakugou, l/n.” I look up and see a large man with a mask on. So this must be the main bad guy.

The rest of the League of Villains start to appear around us, closing us in. “Master” starts to walk and talk to Shigaraki. I move closer to Bakugou, getting ready to fight or run in an instant. If my head wasn’t spinning before it sure was now. I move my hand to my head trying to alleviate the throbbing. It slows down a little, but it’s still there. Bakugou notices this and moves in front of me.

“Ah. There you are.” The man with the mask looks up at the sky and I try to see what he does.

All Might flies through the air aiming for him. “I’ll have you return my students. All For One!” So, that’s his name. I feel relieved when I see him, but frown when the bad guy is able to block All Might's punch. I’ve never seen a villain block his punch before. Dodge, ya, but not block. Due to the punch a large blast sends everyone. I put up a shield trying to stand my ground, but I can feel myself slipping. I’ve also lost Bakugou and can’t see him due to all the dust. When the dust settles I look around for him and see him a few feet behind me. The rest of the villains have also been thrown, but they aren’t too far either. Another blast and All Might is sent flying. Me and Bakugou need to get out of here so All Might can get All For One.

All For One grabs Kurogiri and activates his quirk, opening a large warp gate. I then notice all the villains looking at us also getting ready to grab us.

“This is gonna be fun,” Bakugou says and I put a smirk on my face, staring down at the villains. They all start attacking us one by one. They try to separate us and I put my practice from camp to work. I send blast after blast, and put shields up to block their blasts and weapons as well. Some of their blows are getting too close for comfort.

Me and Bakugou wind up standing back to back. Waiting for the villains to make another move. Then, I see ice and energy from the corner of my eye and look up. I see Deku, Kirishima, and Iida flying through the air. By now Bakugou had noticed too. Then I hear Kirishima yell, “Come on!” That’s all it took for me and Bakugou to send ourselves flying to reach them. Shigaraki tries to reach out to me, but before he can reach me I blast him away, throwing him away. Bakugou grabs one of Kirishima's hands and I grab the other. I hear Compress and look to see him flying towards us. Then, Mt. Lady grows to her full height and blocks him. I start to see the ground getting closer and closer.

“Hold on!” I yell to the boys and I throw a shield around all of us. It softens our fall but the shield comes undone as we roll on the ground.

“Is everybody okay?” I hear Iida ask and everyone says they’re fine. Midoriya lends me a hand to help me get up and I gladly accept it.

“Come on guys, we need to meet up with the others,” Midoriya said.

“Others?” I ask. He tells me that Todoroki and Yayurozu also came with them to save us. After meeting up with them in the city square we look towards the TV billboard and see All Might and All For One still fighting. Everyone is holding their breath, Yoshida holding my hand tightly, as we see All Might fighting for his life. Blow after blow and hit after hit, All Might is struggling to win. After one last punch, one called the United States of Smash, All Might is the victor.

He then points at the camera and says, “Now, it’s your turn.” The whole crowd erupts in cheers for All Might. What does that mean? That’s a weird thing to say after winning a battle. I hear crying behind me and notice Midoriya sobbing. I get that he likes the guy, he's practically his mentor, but still. Shouldn't he be cheering? Not crying?

"Come on guys." Yarouzu interrupts my train of thought. "We should get you guys to the police and a hospital." We head off to the police station and me and Bakugou give our statements to the police and the pros. Eventually we are taken to a hospital, but are released just as soon as we enter since we had very few injuries. Mainly just some bumps and a few scratches.

Before heading out of the hospital and going home with my parents, I see Bakugou with his parents and called out to him. When he sees me I signal to him if we could talk for a second. We meet in the hallway and I hug him. He's stiff for the longest time, but eventually gives me a small hug.

"Thanks for saving us out there hero." I told him. After breaking apart I give him a small smile and turn to leave. Then I stop and turn to him and say, "What we went through was crazy, and I'm sure none of our classmates are going to understand. So, anytime you wanna talk, just give me a call." With that I turn back to my family and leave.

#mha headcanons #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki

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babycracker · 3 years

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 6

chapter rating: teen & up story rating: explicit pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy) word count: ~2.7k chapter warnings: none story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent a/n: as you can see, pairings have changed and i've added some warnings for the future bc this entire story has taken an unexpected turn and it's going to be much bigger than manner now. please don't hesitate to let me know if you wanna be taken off of the tags!

read it on ao3 here

Sadie was sure that she'd have more time than this. Six months isn't long, after all. Well, technically four months. She's been basically on the run for the last two.

She'd had four months to enjoy being twenty-one before the Agency had contacted her about signing the treaty, and for the two months since not so politely telling them to shove it she'd been dodging the bounty hunter that she'd evidently been assigned to.

He was an idiot. A troll, she was sure of it. Big and imposing and clumsy and menacing… but stupid. She hasn't seen him in a few weeks though, and she's starting to relax, fairly sure that she's lost him.

So, for the first time in the week and a half that she's been in this city she's daring to leave her room at the hostel and check out some of what could well be her new home. She pulls her hoodie on, reluctantly pulling the hood over her head and eyeing the bland grey of the fabric with disdain for a moment. Dreadfully boring, and dreadfully cliché - a banshee roaming around donning a grey hood - but she still needs to keep a low profile. Just for a little bit longer.

Everyone's heard about the supernatural bar in the city, such things are not exactly common, though no one seems to know where it is. It would seem the only way to find out is by word of mouth, and unfortunately she doesn't know anyone here, and she can't exactly go up to random people and ask them where the local supernaturals hang.

It would really be preferable; at just over 4'3 she doesn't exactly fit in with humans, but she supposes she'll just have to make do as she heads down the street. She sticks cautiously close to the buildings, avoiding the laughing groups of people and curiously looking around at the bright and colourful nightlife.

She could get used to this.

But for now, she resigns herself to something less flashy, a not quite as cheerful and slightly shabby bar with a bright green neon sign shining from its façade reading Shakers.

Looks good enough for now, so she steps inside, a grin spreading across her face as she takes in the atmosphere. God she's missed being around humans, and this place is packed with some of the rowdiest ones she's ever seen. Her favourite kind.

There's no dancing space as far as she can see (disappointing) but the bar is huge and there are booths lining every wall, the space in the middle filled with several pool tables.

She weaves her way through the crowd, thankfully remaining largely unnoticed, and slips up onto a stool at the bar, breathing out a sigh of relief now that her height is less obvious. She spins around on her seat, leaning one elbow on the bar and watching a group of guys at the closest pool table, trying (unsuccessfully) to gather some kind of hint at how to play the game, when a voice from behind distracts her.

"What are you drinking, pretty?"

She turns, expecting to find a bartender but instead there's a man on her side of the bar and uncomfortably close, a charming and yet slightly unsettling smile on his face. She forces one to her own to keep her frown away, the eerie sense of this guy being bad news creeping through her mind and making her thoughts slightly foggy.

“I’m really not much of a drinker, thanks anyway.”

He’s good looking enough, blonde hair, bright blue eyes and dimples in both cheeks on proud display as he grins at her. But her advanced senses are ringing every bell inside of her, warning her not to trust him.

“C’mon darl, no one comes to a bar unless they want a drink,” he presses, reaching out and letting his fingertips brush against the sliver of bare wrist peeking out from the sleeve of her hoodie.

She gasps and recoils too fast to be able to reign it in, her face twisting into a frown as she pulls her sleeves down and clutches them in her fists to cover her hands entirely. She really should've worn her gloves.

Demon.

He lifts both hands in front of him, a kind of peace offering, and takes a slight step back. “Woah, take it easy. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“It’s fine,” she clears her throat, hoping it’ll take the obvious rasp out of her voice as she struggles to get any words out at all. He grins and slides onto the stool next to her.

“If I promise not to touch you again, will you come and join us?”

She eyes him carefully for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and giving a small nod. He seems nice enough, respectful enough. And she’s never been given any kind of guarantee that her perception is always one hundred percent accurate. Maybe she gets it wrong sometimes. Maybe she’s been disregarding people her entire life based on what she sees of them on the inside, and some of them didn’t deserve disregarding.

She’s been on her own since she ran away from home after her parents’ relentless persistence that she signed the Agency’s treaty became too much, she could do with some friends. Maybe now she can’t afford to turn down every single person that gives her a slight dishonest vibe. Who is completely honest these days anyway?

He grins again and gets to his feet, nodding towards one of the pool tables as a gesture for her to follow him. “I’m Axle.”

“Sadie,” she replies, reluctantly slipping off her seat and noticing the way he immediately arches an eyebrow at her height. He’s a demon, a supernatural, he’s probably already worked out that she’s not human and she just about winces as she waits for the inevitable questions.

They don’t come, however. He’s either much more polite than she’d expected, naïve and just thinks that she’s short, or he’s already worked out what she is and is choosing to stay quiet about it in this public space.

She follows him over to the pool table where a group of five other men are standing around playing a game, and a brief wave of panic surges through her when she realises that they’re probably all demons. They usually hang out with their own kind, and it would mean that she’s heavily outnumbered by a group of supernaturals far more dangerous and powerful than she is.

They barely spare her a glance though as she comes to stand at Axle’s side, and he barely offers an introduction in turn, instead waving his arm around the group and simply referring to them as “the guys”.

It’s probably for the best. She can handle one demon, should the need arise, she can slink away from him unnoticed, but once she has the attention of an entire group of them she’s not exactly sure how she’d get away if she needed to.

For someone that doesn’t talk a whole lot, Morgan sure spends a lot of time on the phone. Tanner hadn’t expected her to be so… clingy. She seems to really miss the rest of Unit Bravo now that she’s stuck away from them, which seems strange to him given that he’d assumed she wasn’t so different from him and would enjoy the break and getting to do her own thing (apart from having to work with him, of course) for a while.

But she’s on the phone again. Granted, she’s talking to Adam about their mission, but still. The number of questions she’d had about what they were supposed to do had been alarming to Tanner until he’d realised that she was most likely just coming up with the need for so much clarification as an excuse to speak to someone from her team.

Whatever her reasons though, he’s bored. He gets bored quite often with her, he realises, and he finds himself watching her on the other side of the room from where he’s kicked back on the couch, obviously and shamelessly checking her out as she paces and speaks in a hushed voice into the phone. Maybe it’d be different if he worked with her a little more; in regard to both her flirtation and their current job. At first, it’d been fun to irk her and get on her nerves but it’s already starting to get old - even for him - and he decides that maybe he should make more of an effort to be agreeable if they’re going to be stuck together for now. Or he could at least sleep with her. That might relieve some of her tension and get her to stop being such a hardass, at least.

She runs a hand through her hair and turns to face him, scowling when she notices his attention and lifting her middle finger at him before turning away.

He grins and sits up straight when she finally ends the call and turns to face him again.

“They want us to go to that bar tonight,” she tells him before he has a chance to say anything, and he groans dramatically and slides down to a slouching position, throwing his head back against the back of the couch and closing his eyes.

“It’s all work with you,” he complains, opening his eyes again when he hears her moving and watching her cross the room and start to pull her jacket on.

“We are on a job at the moment, so yeah, it’s all work.”

“You know this place isn’t gonna be like Mickey’s, right?”

She pulls a face, only small and only for the briefest second but he catches it anyway and for the first time sees how uncertain she is about having to be in that kind of environment.

“You gonna be good?” he adds, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic.

It actually surprises him how much he cares about how much this is going to affect her, and not just for the job. It’s going to be a pain in the ass, definitely. Having to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s not overwhelmed while trying to do his job at the same time, but more than that, whenever he thinks about how painful this is going to be for Morgan his stomach twists slightly, churning uncomfortably and making him feel… he doesn’t even know. Worried? Is this what worry for somebody else is?

Probably not. He’s probably just dreading having to babysit her.

He can already practically hear her teeth grinding by the time they get to the door of Shakers, let alone inside. They can hear (to be fair, godawful) rock music as well as the noise of what sounds like a pretty big crowd through the door, and he casts a glance in her direction. Her jaw’s clenched, brow furrowed, and eyes narrowed as she stares at the door before turning to the side and meeting his gaze.

“What? We going in or not?” she snaps, and he shrugs and waves a hand at her, gesturing to her general demeanour.

“I dunno, are we?”

She rolls her eyes and steps away from him, but he sees her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath before pushing the door open.

It’s loud. Really loud. Not too bright at least, but even he immediately catches the faint scent of alcohol, cigarettes and weed in the air. He can only imagine how strong it is to her.

His concerns for her are quickly overshadowed though when it takes less than a minute for his eyes to land on a group of men playing pool near the back of the room. He recognises them straight away, which means that they’re going to recognise him straight away and they’ll be gone before he and Morgan have gotten anywhere near them.

“Shit,” he mutters, ducking his head and turning to face Morgan more so as to turn himself away from them.

“What?” she snaps, glaring at him and not seeming to realise that something’s gone wrong, too caught up in trying to distract herself from the sensations bombarding her.

“I know them,” he answers distractedly, looking her up and down for a moment before casting a quick glance around the room in search of somewhere quieter. Something that doesn’t seem to exist in this bar.

He grabs her hand and pulls her over to the bar, nudging her to sit up on one of the stools and standing beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders and leaning in close to her. The close contact seemed to work the previous day when she was starting to become overwhelmed on the street outside, there’s no reason to think that it won’t work again in here.

“What do you mean you know them?” she asks, her voice a little less impatient as she leans back against him slightly, and he doesn’t miss the soft sigh of relief she lets out as he feels her body start to relax a little.

He doesn’t know why physical contact with him, of all people, seems to help her out but he’s going to count it as a bonus when it means that he’s able to set her at ease enough for her to function in these situations.

He glances back towards the pool table, but looks away again just as quickly, leaning down closer to Morgan to hide his face when he sees that the group are starting towards the door.

“They know you?” Morgan finally seems to click on, looking quickly towards the group and then back at him, and he only just realises how close he’s gotten to her when her nose just about brushes against his when she does it.

“Mhm,” he distractedly hums in reply, and she studies him for a moment before a small smirk crosses her face.

“I’ve been trying to get this close to you since we met, and now you’re telling me all it would’ve taken was a few demons to scare you?”

This bitch. He frowns at her, his arm dropping away from her shoulders as he straightens up again and moves away from her, temporarily forgetting that he’s trying to hide himself.

“I am not scared.” He spits indignantly.

Of all the things for her to say. Scared.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

Condescension drips from every word and his frown deepens into a glare. “Fuck you.”

“They’re going to see you,” she ignores his insult and nods behind him, and his eyes dart towards the group that have thankfully already moved past him when he remembers that whatever she thinks about him, them seeing him would be a disaster and if they knew that he was after them they’d be looking for them for weeks.

He subtly watches them go, waiting until the last two people are through the door, a blonde guy and a freakishly short girl, and then grabs Morgan’s hand and pulls her off of the stool. “Come on.”

He practically drags her out onto the street, making sure to keep a fair distance away from the group without losing sight of them through the crowd until he realises where they’re going.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Morgan mutters from beside him, obviously realising the same thing at the same time, and he stops and watches them step through the doors of the same motel that they’re staying in.

He grins and looks over at her, letting go of her hand. “Our job just got a whole lot easier.”

“You think?”

He doesn’t bother answering, just heads towards the motel once he’s sure that they’ve had a chance to get to their room and he’s not about to run into them in the lobby.

He’s stayed here countless times, he knows pretty much the entire reception staff, it shouldn’t be too hard for him to find out what room they’re staying in and pay them a visit when they’re not expecting it. Then all he needs to do is convince Morgan that he doesn’t need her help with his next job, they can go their separate ways, and everyone will be happy.

tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @homeformyheart @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @fhauvilles @amlovelies @forestcreatures @maraudern05 @kat-tia801 @alyssalauren @agentnolastname @utterlyinevitable @masonscig

#twc writing #the wayhaven chronicles #unit bravo #a du mortain #n sewell #f hauville #twc morgan #tanner drake #sadie kennedy #fire meet gasoline #chapter update #n*fw #kat writes

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appples · 3 years

Text

Oh, Cats (7/10)

pairing: Aizawa x Reader (OC)

genre/warning: 18+

words: 3,135

summary: An average girl with a cat quirk starting over in a new city, as typical as usual. Until it’s not. You drop into someone’s life unannounced and not necessarily wanted.

You swore up and down every day leading up to the performance that you objected to the whole thing and that you did not want to be the lead in a cat idol group at the school festival. Who had even come up with this idea in the first place? It has to be Mic and Midnight. Only those two would encourage you to play up your cat features in such a provocative way. None of that mattered the moment your eyes met Shouta's in the crowd. You regretted nothing. He was looking at you as if you were glittering amongst the lights, like a prism emitting a rainbow. At that moment, it felt as if nothing else existed outside of you for him while you danced.

Honestly, Shouta never seemed like the sort of person to enjoy idol groups. It was incredibly surprising to see him there, not working but participating. Although calling it participating would be a bit of a stretch, he mostly stood quietly with his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. His eyes traced the hem of your layers of ruffles as they left soft reminders of your movements while you glided across the stage, seeming more cat-like than ever. You almost missed the beginning of the next dance before you broke away from blushing at Aizawa, instead now diligently performing the moves you had been practicing for weeks. It was your standard idol type show with lots of jumping and cute dancing, including the addition of cat-like details and emphasis. One thing, unlike other idol shows, was Midnight was in charge of costumes, and that didn't leave much to the imagination with how tight and short the dresses were. Aware that if you threw your hip too high when making a turn that a select few members of the audience would see under all those ruffles, and that's just what you did as you turned away from Shouta. Adding a cheeky, playful smile with a flash of your fangs. By the end, the whole audience was cheering along, and you left the stage with a roar of applause. Midnight came up to you as you walked backstage,

"That was amazing! You had the crowd going, especially someone in particular" she threw her arm around you and jested. You couldn't bring yourself to meet her eyes, instead opting to look down in a feeble attempt to hide your embarrassment.

"I…I had a lot of fun" you raised your head, but you knew better than trying to fool Midnight. She could see what you were and were not saying.

"I saw you make good use of the costumes" She smirked, thinking about how she saw you dancing for Aizawa. "It's okay if you don't want to admit it, but I'm always here for girl talk," Midnight winked at you and departed for the change room. Despite her leaving, you could still feel someone nearby, turning around to find Shouta making his way towards you. You gave him a shaky smile as you both made eye contact again; it was difficult to tell who was blushing more.

"You guys put on a great performance. The crowd loved it"

"T-thanks! I've never done something like this before, so I was nervous," your ears twitched as you laughed anxiously, hoping he didn't overhear Midnight.

"You didn't seem nervous at all." There was a long silence punctuated with the sound of your tail moving as you scrambled to find something to say. "Are you going out with everyone tonight?" Aizawa saved you.

"I hadn't answered yet, are you?"

"Same for me," this was a lie. He had adamantly declined to attend until he saw you on stage. "Would you like to go together?" Your heart was racing.

"Okay! Sure!" You beamed at him, resulting in one of his rare, genuine smiles. "Just give me a few minutes to change, and we can head out," Aizawa nodded. You ran off, nearly skipping towards the change room.

"Shouta, You should have said there was no time to change so she would wear that outfit all night. Because I'm betting, it may have been one of the reasons you changed your mind on the invite" Midnight winked at Aizawa as he moved away from her sudden presence, glaring at her. The pair had known each other since attending UA themselves, and by this point, in their friendship, she knew just how far to push him and how to handle his grumpy demeanor.

"You changed quickly," Aizawa huffed.

"Oh, don't be like that. It's painfully obvious. You're not fooling anyone."

"Stop, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Jesus Christ Shouta, it's getting to the point where I'm starting to think you believe your bullshit. You are allowed to be happy; you know that...right? No one can be the hero all the time-" he cut her off.

"You're wrong," he stared at Midnight. The sadness in his eyes never left after the work-study incident as a UA student. Silence filled the space between them, neither wanting to bring up the reality of their memories.

You saw Aizawa and Midnight talking as you exited the change room, although neither looked to be in a good mood. Tepidly you approached, not wanting to get in their way,

"Hello?" You tried to play it casual but ended up sounding confused and high pitched. Both teachers took notice immediately. Whatever was happening between them quickly melted away. Midnight was the first one to jump in,

"Okay! So, do either of you have the address?"

"Is it the usual place?"

"Mhm, usual arrangement for rooms if they're needed too."

"Alright, I should have the address already. Is there anyone else that needs a ride up?" Your heart sank a little but was also relieved you wouldn't be alone with him for such a long period. Midnight noticed your disappointment.

"Oh, don't worry, everyone is accounted for already," Midnight sneered, almost getting away with her lie until Mic walked up behind the trio.

"What's this I hear, you trying to leave me behind? I'm the life of the party!" Aizawa shot daggers at Midnight, but she just kept smiling.

"Oops, my mistake. I will see you guys there! Try to get there before that storm rolls in" She pointed overhead, taking off before anyone had the chance to question her.

The three of you made your way over to Aizawa's car, Mic diving for shotgun before you even had a chance to consider it. Happily climbing into the back seats. Car rides were always enjoyable for you because it was another way to take all your surroundings in a different setting. Aizawa speedily took off once everyone was settled. First, making his way off campus and then through backroads, you didn't know existed in the city. Mic couldn't make up his mind today on what he wanted to listen to, subjecting everyone in the car to only hearing about the first thirty seconds of each song. Both him and Aizawa were chatting on and off, although it was mostly Mic talking at Aizawa. You were happy to stay out of the conversation and watch the scenery change from a rainy suburban to a rural area with trees lining both sides of the street, gently swaying in the wind.

"Can you please just settle on a song and let it play? You're starting to give me a headache" Aizawa never took his eyes off the road.

"What are you talking about? I'm just trying to find the right tunes for that perfect main character vibe" Mic readjusted his shades before realizing how dark out it had gotten. Fishing out his regular glasses, he swapped them.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" It was sounding like Aizawa was already done with Mic before the night really started. You smiled as you continued to listen to the two butt heads.

A loud bang from the rear of the car silenced the pair. Rapidly the vehicle dropped to the right, sending it into a fishtail spin. Startled, Aizawa momentarily hit the brakes triggering the car to lock up. Rain still falling heavily, the automobile slid across the compromised surface. Everyone in the car ran through a scenario if they could use their quirk to get them out of this situation but unfortunately, none of them had anything that would help. All three screamed and held onto something. The car when headfirst into the ditch, landing with the loud crash and sound of compacting steel.

"Is everyone okay?" Aizawa took charge of the situation. You opened your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them when the car crashed.

"All's good here." Mic shakily quipped.

"I-I'm okay too." You looked up into the rearview mirror and caught Aizawa looking back at you, "But you're not Shouta!" The seatbelt held you, prisoner, as you tried to lean forward. Mic looked over to his friend.

"Dude, are you okay? Because it's not looking the way."

"It's fine. It's superficial." Aizawa pushed his hair back out of his face and took a look at the bleeding cut on his forehead. He pulled out wipes from the center console and cleaned up the blood that had ran down his face. Looking into the mirror again, he saw your concern and spoke directly to you, "I promise, I really am okay." You still had your suspicions.

"Uhm, I can help you with that. It's a little weird, though."

"I don't understand. What do you mean by weird?"

"My quirk gives me some very mild healing abilities, but I hate telling people about it. To use it, I have to lick the affected area." No matter how many times you explained it, it still made you uncomfortable.

"Probably a good idea to deal with this before anyone else sees it," remarked Aizawa. The three of you got out of the car and inspected the damage; the vehicle was staying exactly where it was for the evening. You gave Shouta a tug on his jacket arm,

"I need you to come down lower. I can't reach you" Aizawa dropped down to one knee before you, his face at about breast level. Trying your best not to think about how it felt to run your fingers through his hair again as you moved it out of the way and tilted his head up before leaning down to drag your tongue over his cut. Instantaneously you saw it begin to disappear and let his hair fall back in place. Mic had pulled out his phone and gone to work to locate where the trio was exactly,

"Hey, we're actually not too far from the place. It's saying it's a ten-minute walk tops, but does anyone have an umbrella?" It was pouring rain, and everyone was already soaked through. Your ears angled backward in disapproval.

"Yeah, there should be a couple at least in the trunk" In fact, there were two. Aizawa handed you one and took the second for himself and Mic. It made you laugh a little watching two grown men trying to share one umbrella while you had room to share. You neglected to say anything for the duration of the walk.

Before walking through the door, you can hear Midnight, who had obviously been there a while. As the three of you entered the establishment, the entire table of school faculty erupted in cheers. A few exchanging bets made if and who would show up out of the three of you. Presumably, the owner of the business came over right away and began speaking with Aizawa. As they continued discussing the accommodations, another employee quietly ran upstairs with stacks of bedding, towels, and yukatas. Taking off your soaking shoes felt like a relief until you noticed your socks were equally as wet and very likely to make a mess. Soon the host motioned for the three of you to follow him upstairs, where he led you to the rooms.

"Unfortunately, we only have one double room left, but there is another room with only one of your coworkers occupying it."

"That's fine," Aizawa curtly replied, "We can decide who sleeps where," he said as he extended his hand for the room keys. The hoss graciously hands them over, indicating which key is for the empty room and the already occupied room before retreating back downstairs to continue helping with the table of rowdy teachers.

"I'm still absolutely soaked," you remarked as you shook the remaining water off your tail and ears.

"Here, take the vacant room and get changed." Aizawa handed you the key before turning back to Mic, who had a very quizzical expression across his face. Without hesitation, you took the key and headed to the room. Everything was quickly stripped down to your underwear, and those promptly came off as well. All of which you managed to spread out methodically in hopes of drying them before tomorrow. You took the folded yukata into your hands and observed the material's intricate pattern before proceeding to follow the steps of putting on the garment. Once dressed, you opened the door to find both Aizawa and Mic still standing outside. Attempting to apologize for taking so long, Mic waved you off. You smiled before joining the others.

"Finally! Come over here. I have a seat for you!" Midnight stood up and leaned over the table as she shouted at you once you were in her sight. Laughing to yourself and wondering how this night would go, you made your way over and sat next to Midnight. Opening her mouth and leaning, you braced yourself for a barrage of questions that never quite came,

"You looked soaked when you got here. I bet you're not wearing anything under that" Midnight lacked volume control on a good day, and that was only amplified after a few drinks. Naturally, the whole table heard. There was no chance for you to hide the redness in your face and bristling of your tail. More footsteps were coming down the stairs,

"Leave her alone Midnight, she's too sober for your teasing," Aizawa said in his usual flat tone. But Midnight was right. You weren't wearing anything. Making eye contact with Aizawa was almost too much. You had to look away in a panic when you realized he likely saw all your clothes laid out in the room.

"Oh common, don't be such a grump here too." Midnight jested, but Aizawa seemed to take no notice, proceeded to sit in the empty seat next to you. A round of drinks for the table was ordered while you were changing, and you were now presented with a glass. Mic seemed to arrive without your notice, signaling a loud resonating "kampai" from the entire table before taking a long, generous drink.

It was becoming more of a rare occurrence for you to drink, which had its benefits, but at times like this, it presented several drawbacks. There was no chance you had at keeping pace with your peers. By the time you were on your third drink, you had lost count as to which drink everyone else was on. Feeling the warmth inside from the alcohol and couldn't stop yourself from smiling all night. Laughs were being had all around, and you swore you caught Aizawa smiling and even laughing a little without a trace of sarcasm. You hadn't realized until then that he had tied half his hair back, likely when he changed earlier. His smile radiated when his face wasn't obstructed. Some pieces had fallen out of place, and all you wanted to do was push them back, tucking them behind his ear.

Mic leaned onto the table, audibly sighing and drawing out his phone in an exaggerated way. Everyone gave him their immediate attention.

"I took some great pictures tonight." The first photo to appeaser was one he had taken during the idol portion of the festival. Shouta leered at him.

"Oh my God, look at Sho's face!" Midnight cackled and made her way over to inspect the photo closer. You were a little drunk and slightly confused; obviously wanting to see what the fuss was about, you leaned in. Mic was able to get a photo of Aizawa watching you while you danced, both you and Aizawa completely unaware until now. Seeing the documentation of Aizawa’s reaction to you sent you into a flurry of embarrassment. Trying to hide your face, you went to sit back down, but thanks to the alcohol, your balance was gone. To regain your equilibrium, you reached out, inevitably placing your hand on Aizawa's inner thigh without realizing it. Slowly you returned to your seat, still unaware of where your hand was but noticing that someone else was holding it in place. For a while, neither of you made eye contact, simply enjoying the warmth of holding each other’s hand. Finally, you looked at him. He carried the same stoic expression as always, but you swore there was a hint of a smile curling at the edge of his lips. Soon you gave his hand a light squeeze before withdrawing yours, and standing up, the drinks had finally made their way through, and a bathroom break was needed. To get to the washroom, you had to pass over Shouta but were entirely unsure how given the awkward seating set up. Instead, he stood up as well and moved out of the seating area, giving you room to exit comfortably. You smiled and silently nodded in appreciation. Despite having shared intimate moments together and working together for a few months now, small interactions like this still made you shy and awkward.

Returning to the table, you were happy to take in the scene of your coworkers smiling and laughing, forgetting about the harsh realities of their jobs and the world you all inhabit. Aizawa stood up and let you gracefully sit back down before returning to his seat. It was comfortable spending time with your faculty. Several of them were incredibly outgoing and happily carried the conversations for the night, allowing you to interject and be a passive member of the table. The more drinks that arrived, the louder Mic, Midnight, and a few others got. For you, sleepiness began to wash over. As it took its hold, your ears drooped, and you felt yourself wavering, slowly falling to the side. Your head fell on Aizawa's shoulder, tail gently curving around him. Totally unsure about what he should do, he gently positioned you that allowed you to partially curly up in his lap like a cat. Giving you a gentle pet behind the ears before returning to the table conversation.

Soon people began retiring to their rooms, Aizawa taking the opportunity to carry you to your room.

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dissoluteways · 3 years

Text

positions - Chapter III

❧

Chapter I / Chapter II / Chapter III

PAIRING: Hyuk/OC RATING: Explicit WARNINGS: Office AU. WORDCOUNT: 4195

Notes: AH YEAH SMUT THIS TIME! not full on smut, but smut. Next chapter is the last one. Enjoy guys!

❧

By Monday, she was a bundle of nerves. It was hard not to overthink during the weekend. They did say they liked each other, and the kisses were so good she couldn��t stop thinking about it. He also kept texting her during the weekend, at some point during the day.

She was, however, a bit insecure about Sanghyuk still. She tried not to let it show too much, but by Monday she was still anxious.

He wasn’t there when she arrived. Somehow that was a relief.

Taking a deep breath, she settled in her office, taking off her coat and taking out her phone to check her messages. She looked out the window; it was really sunny that day and a little cool so she opened the window to let in some fresh air.

She didn’t want to keep going over everything that happened too much, she was already nervous as it was, so she tried inhaling and exhaling slowly and deeply to calm herself down. Everything was going to be fine, it was Sanghyuk after all, he hadn’t given her a reason not to trust him.

Lost in her thoughts as she was, she didn’t hear Sanghyuk coming up behind her. She just felt when he suddenly grabbed her hand and spinned her around. She yelped, surprised at the sudden movement until she was face to face with Sanghyuk, who was holding her waist and pressing their bodies together, and at that point she started blushing, with her heart in her chest beating way too fast to be considered healthy.

“Hey.” He said with a smirk, a touch smug.

“Hey…” Her voice was a bit sore, so she cleared her throat a bit before speaking again. “You scared me.”

“Did I?” He faked concern, but it was obvious he was amused about everything. “It wasn’t my intention.”

“What was the intention then?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Surprise you.”

She couldn’t reply when he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

“And to give you that.”

God damn it, she wanted to keep him.

She was hoping to get more kisses, and by the way he was also looking at her, he probably had the same thing in mind. The phone interrupted them once again, making her jolt, and Sanghyuk looking less amused and more annoyed. She was starting to hate having a phone in the first place.

Sanghyuk pulled away reluctantly and jogged to his desk to pick up the phone.

“It’s HR, they wanna see you.”

She froze for a second, until she remembered the report she made the previous week.

“I’ll be there right now.”

After conveying the message, Sanghyuk hung up. She started walking out of her office in a second, Sanghyuk following closely right after.

She was a bit nervous, but they told Jieun they would dismiss the guy. There wasn’t anything to worry about.

He must have sensed her anxiety, because when they arrived at HR and she was about to walk in to talk to the director alone, he patted her shoulder softly.

Jieun was right; they were dismissing that guy. They told her they couldn’t have two women in charge be harassed by anyone. She silently wondered if they could have any women actually be harassed, but she didn’t comment on that.

“Your assistant, Han Sanghyuk.” She raised both eyebrows, when the director mentioned him. “He was really helpful. He seemed to have noticed everything right away.”

“That’s what I know.” She commented, not sure what else to say.

“He didn’t want to damage your reputation.”

She looked at him, confused.

“That’s what he said when I asked him why he didn’t report him earlier.”

Oh. She never really considered that.

She didn’t care about her reputation, she barely had one. But thinking about, it would look really bad to have someone flirt with her constantly, especially if they worked with her.

Touched, she bowed politely once the conversation was over before walking out.

Sanghyuk was still there, sitting on a chair and shaking his leg. She smiled softly when he stood up as soon as he saw her.

“I heard something nice about you.” She commented once they were back at her office, checking to see if there was anyone close by before speaking.

“You did?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t help the smile on her face and how big it was when she slowly got closer to him.

“Whatever it was, I meant it.” He was grinning as well, but with a more playful look in his eyes.

She bit her lip when he slid his hand up her cheek before tugging her hair behind her ear.

She hated it was Monday and there was work to do when all she wanted was look at him and kiss him and maybe even do more than that.

They couldn’t stop stealing glances at each other throughout the day. It seemed that they couldn’t get a minute alone the entire day and she was upset, it was like the world was conspiring somehow.

When they left at the end of the day (finally), Sanghyuk put his arm around her shoulder almost as soon as they walked away from the building. She looked at him with wide eyes, then over her shoulder to see if anyone saw.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, a little embarrassed.

“Just walking you home,” He was trying really hard not to even smile and look cool, but he wasn’t doing a good job.

She actually didn’t mind. They got to kiss when they reached her place, and it still felt like the first time once again; she wondered if it ever would feel any different. Hopefully it wouldn’t.

Sanghyuk tried to kiss her the next day just when she walked into the office, but she had to stop him, knowing well someone was walking into the office next door. The look on his face made her feel a little bad, but she pecked his lips once she made sure no one was going to walk in.

It wasn’t her intention to make him feel bad, but he probably didn’t know.

“It’s really not well looked upon to date a coworker.”

“But I’m not really a coworker.” He blinked.

“Don’t try to be smart.” She glared at him, and he broke into a smile.

“Is it like, part of the rules of this company?”

“Well no…”

“What is it, then?” Sanghyuk asked, confused.

“It’s just… frown upon…” She thought about it for a minute so to explain it better. “I think they are worried about abuse of power, especially when it’s lower ranges.”

He seemed to be thinking about it for a while before saying anything.

“So the problem would be if they see us.”

“I guess. It would be bad if someone were to find I’m fooling around with my assistant.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it, frowning. He spoke again after a moment.

“If someone were to find? The issue is getting caught?”

“Yes?” She blinked, he was basically repeating the same thing he already said before.

“Then,” Sanghyuk grinned mischievously. “We won’t.”

That smile sent chills down her spine. She gulped and said nothing.

He was testing his luck when they walked out the building that day and they took just three steps away from the main entrance, before he pinched her butt. She turned to look at him, scandalized and covering her behind as her face turned red. Sanghyuk acted as if nothing had happened, and a small smile started tugging at his lips a few seconds later.

“Did you hear anything I just said earlier?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

She wanted to play and act mad, but she couldn’t when he started smiling. It was going to be hard hiding from everyone.

In any case it was starting to get fun, like a game of if they would get caught or not. She didn’t dare to do more than just a peck on the lips when they were in the office. But Sanghyuk noticed what she was doing, and he played around more than he should be allowed.

He walked into her office one day, and she looked at him curiously, expecting him to tell her something work-related, but he quickly walked towards her and grabbed her by the waist. She didn’t push him away or tell him to stop, she didn’t want to; but he never reached for her lips.

Sanghyuk only got close enough to press his lips to her cheek in an almost kiss, before dragging his lips down her jaw and stopping at her throat. She inhaled sharply, too stunned to push him away. She didn’t want him to stop, really, she wanted to know how far he was going to go, and how good it would feel.

His lips pressed against her neck before he softly scraped her skin with his teeth. She didn’t try to hide the moan that spilled from her mouth, and he seemed pleasantly surprised by her response. He bit down her neck and sucked; he was trying to leave a mark. And she wanted him to. She gasped when he repeated his previous play on the same spot, before he slid his tongue over her skin to soothe it.

She tried to kiss him when he pulled away, but he dodged her lips swiftly, and stepped away, turning around to leave.

“What?!” She almost yelled, not really understanding what just happened. “What- Where are you going?!”

“Back to work.”

“But-”

“I’m sorry, you said we shouldn’t get caught.”

He didn’t say anything else before he actually walked out, and she couldn’t believe what just happened.

She couldn’t outsmart him in his teasing. She was still rather shy about initiating anything, but Sanghyuk seemed confident in himself and his effect on her, which he had every right to be because he did affect her quite easily. And he was getting bolder once he realized she basically was open to anything. She wouldn’t deny it, she would throw herself to a volcano if that tickled his pickle.

But he was going to pay her back, she’d figure it out somehow.

Hakyeon walked right into her office a couple of minutes before lunch time, just after she had dismissed Sanghyuk so he could have lunch earlier, and she eyed him curiously, wondering why he would let himself in so unceremoniously.

“Taekwoon told me he saw you and Sanghyuk.”

Her eyes opened, wide open, when those words settled in her brain. Saw them? Where? And what exactly were they doing?

“Um…” She tried to find the right words so she wouldn’t incriminate herself. “What?”

“He saw you two,” He replied, completely serious. “He told me Sanghyuk touched your ass?”

Shit. She covered her face with her hands as soon as she heard that, completely embarrassed that someone actually saw that. Especially Taekwoon. God knew the dude couldn’t keep any secret to himself.

“Hakyeon, I-”

“What’s going?”

“I didn’t want to tell you yet, because I don’t know exactly what’s going on.” She replied, sincerely.

“What?” He looked more confused than ever. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“No, no! No-” She knew she wasn’t sleeping with him, but she might as well be because that’s where everything was leading towards. “We’re not sleeping together.”

He looked at her, expectantly. She sighed, gesturing for him to sit down.

“We kissed. We still just kiss.”

Hakyeon raised an eyebrow.

“I swear. We just kissed.” She blushed. “It’s not like I don’t want to do more.”

“Must he have his hands on you at all times then?” He sighed, exasperated. “Remember that your jobs are at risk here.”

“I know, he was just playing…”

“With your butt?”

“Hey, you must play with Taekwoon’s butt all the time!” She fired back, as Hakyeon turned completely red. “Or he must play with yours, I don’t know how it is.”

“Don’t make this about me.” He tried rerouting the conversation back to her, totally ashamed. “Seriously though, what’s going on between you two?”

She looked down, flustered.

“We like each other. At least he told me he likes me.” Her cheeks were hot, she imagined she must have been flushing profoundly. “I don’t really know what we are, to be honest.”

“He seems really interested in something more than just physical contact though.” He commented, looking at her fondly. “He walks you home every day, right?”

“I guess.”

She didn’t want to get her hopes up. Sanghyuk said he liked her, but they never talked more about whatever was going on. If she was honest, she was afraid he only wanted to just fool around, and nothing more. She didn’t want to be the one to bring up all those questions, so she settled with just enjoying what they were going through at that moment. It was still fun on its own.

“Just talk to him.” Hakyeon advised her, with a soft smile. “He seems to really like you.”

She returned his smile. She really adored him.

“You might want to cover that hickey you have on your neck, by the way.” He commented as he stood up and walked out of her office.

Blushing, she covered her neck with her hand, quickly going through her bag to find her foundation.

Sanghyuk walked in, over an hour later, while she was standing in front of her desk, trying to tidy up her paperwork, but as soon as she felt his presence, she blurted out.

“Hakyeon knows.”

He stopped in his tracks, looking at her with wide eyes. She didn’t even have the chance to really see him, so she started blushing when she noticed he was wearing his workout clothes, with that incredibly deeply cut shirt.

“He does?” He asked, voice emotionless.

“Yeah…” She cleared her throat, blinking a few times and trying to only look at him in the eye. “Yeah, he came in earlier. Taekwoon saw us the other day.”

“He did?”

“Yes! He saw you touching my butt!”

“Really?” He smiled, cocky.

“Yes!” She looked at him, questioning. “Why are you so calm about this?”

“It’s Taekwoon.” He replied, finally moving and walking closer towards her. “He will only tell Hakyeon-hyung about it.”

She frowned. He was right, Taekwoon wouldn’t snitch on them. But she was still a little worried someone else might have seen.

Any thought she could have had after that went out the window when Sanghyuk closed the space between them, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing her against his body. It was like colliding with a wall, her hands bracing her and she got to touch his chest, which was stronger than she expected.

“Don’t worry,” He said, voice low. “We’ll be careful.”

“Do you know the meaning of that word?” She raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t answer. He leaned in and kissed her, sweet and hot, and she should have expected it, but she still melted a little inside.

It was so brief, she barely got around to cup his face when he pulled away. She eyed him, confused, when he went to the door, and locked it. He lingered a little longer before turning to her, with a devious smile.

Her face was completely hot, and she couldn’t help but gulp when he looked at her like that. When he approached her again, she considered asking him what was on his mind, yet at the same time, she was thrilled and only wanted to be surprised.

Sanghyuk put his hands on her hips and pressed his body against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck when he kissed her, almost on instinct, like they belonged there, the only thing in her mind was having him close to her. It was gentle at first, just his lips slowly gliding over hers. His grip on her hips got tighter though, and she hummed, delighted, when he squeezed her flesh.

It was really hard to be in that position, pressed up against Sanghyuk’s body, and not feel heat rapidly blooming in her lower stomach. Especially when he bit her bottom lip, softly tugging at it. She moaned as he trailed his lips downwards, caressing her cheek then settling on her neck to nip at her skin.

His actions had a purpose, and she noticed when he kept moving his hands up and down her sides, and pushing her body more towards the desk. She had to let go of his neck to support herself so she wouldn’t lose balance, her hands gripping the edge of the desk.

She looked at him curiously when he pulled away again suddenly, and started taking off some of the stuff on her desk to the chair that was right beside them. Sanghyuk was trying to make space there for her to sit down somehow, and once she realized that she couldn’t help but giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. He eyed her once he got rid of most of the stuff, blushing a little. She never thought she would see him flush, it was incredibly adorable.

She yelped, surprised, when Sanghyuk picked her up and sat her down on the desk. He seemed totally pleased with the noise she made, smiling when he kissed her again. He was rough this time, all teeth and tongue, his hands resting on her thighs now as she spread them to make room for his body to settle in between them.

She couldn’t believe they were so blatantly making out like that in her office. Moreover, she didn’t care at all. She didn’t remember the last time she was so needy for someone. But all she could focus on was Sanghyuk, and his lips, and his body, and how much she wanted him.

Too distracted with Sanghyuk kissing her, she didn’t notice one of his hands sneaking over her skirt and between her legs until he pressed his palm over her panties. She moaned, loudly, breaking the kiss to look at him.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, staring back at her with soft eyes.

She didn’t believe he was actually asking her that, she appreciated the intention. She was obviously more than okay with whatever he wanted to do, so she nodded, bringing him for more kissing, hoping that was enough answer.

Sanghyuk seemed to understand, pressing the palm of his hand again between her legs. She whined into his mouth, and he gladly swallowed down all the noises she was making while he worked her up. Every move of his hand had deliberate pressure, moving slowly in circles over her clothed core and making her legs twitch.

He pulled away, pushing her skirt all the way up. He stared deep into her eyes, gauging her reaction, when he hooked his fingers on her panties to drag them down. She could feel her face blushing under his gaze, a little embarrassed that he was paying so much attention to her response. When she didn’t say no, Sanghyuk took off her underwear, discarding it on the chair.

It was a little awkward to be in that position, she wouldn’t feel like that if they were to be on a bed. But she was self conscious, knowing everything looked different when she was sitting up, and she knew Sanghyuk must have been really ripped underneath all his clothes. He didn’t comment on anything though, and she was relieved, trying to at least focus on what was currently about to happen.

He settled his hand where it previously was, this time pressing his thumb over her clit. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips, loud and unashamed, when he started drawing circles.

“Shhh, baby,” Sanghyuk murmured with a smirk adorning his face. “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?”

Damn him. She didn’t have it in her to reply, at least not when he was caressing her between her legs.

Covering her mouth with her hand, she closed her eyes as he kept on teasing her with his fingers. He started mouthing at her neck, holding her close while rubbing her clit. She held tight onto him, trying to somehow anchor herself and not let her body fall on the desk when the heat between her legs started pulsing.

Sanghyuk pulled away from her again, and she inevitably leaned back all the way on the desk, gasping when she landed. He smiled at her, cocky, and he grabbed her legs, pressing kisses to her knees, before kneeling down in front of her. She couldn’t hide her embarrassment at that moment, knowing well her face must have been red not only from the teasing, but now because Sanghyuk was basically face to face with her entrance.

He stared at her, eyes dark, when he leaned in and stroked her folds with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” There was no way she could keep quiet, not when they were having sex (kind of) for the first time, and in her office of all places.

It seemed like an illusion they were doing that, at her office, in the middle of the day. For a second she thought she might be dreaming, it was still unbelievable they were even an item. But the moment Sanghyuk kissed her clit, she couldn’t think about anything anymore. Only him, and how good it felt what he was doing.

He pressed his thumb to her clit again, as he kept working on her entrance with his tongue; and she might as well lose her mind. He only started touching her for what felt like a few seconds, she knew it was longer than that; but she could feel that knot in her tummy getting tighter and hotter, her orgasm feeling just around the corner.

Sanghyuk hummed as he kept licking her, his finger softly rubbing her. She really tried to muffle any kind of sound she might be making with her hand, she knew she was failing, muted moans spilling every now and then. He made a pleased noise, eyeing her intensely from between her legs.

Her legs twitched with every one of his moves, and her stomach started tensing; she knew she was going to come soon. That seemed to be his purpose, keeping a steady pace of his finger and his tongue.

“Sanghyuk, I’m-” She tried to warn him, but her voice was broken, it was like she couldn’t find the words, any words, her brain too flooded with pleasure to even finish an idea.

He seemed to understand, his eyes still fixing on hers. With measured purpose, he lapped at her clit a couple of times before sealing his lips over it and sucking.

That was all she needed before she let go. Closing her eyes tight, she could only see stars, and her entire body trembled, pleasure spreading through. Sanghyuk kept kissing her through her climax, and she moved her hips towards his face, riding her orgasm and whining after a few seconds, feeling a little overstimulated.

With her eyes closed, she let her arms and legs fall, completely spent. She could feel Sanghyuk pressing kisses to her thighs, his hands holding her legs up and squeezing her skin softly. She opened her eyes when he was just above her, hovering over her body, his hand stroking her cheek and pushing her hair back.

Sanghyuk kissed her gently before she could even think of anything to say. He just pressed his lips against hers, but she felt all warm inside her chest, like she could melt and turn into a puddle of goo.

She figured he must have been hard as well, and she confirmed it when he pressed closer, and she felt his erection through his clothes, pressed against her leg. Wrapping one arm around his neck, still kissing him softly, she trailed her other hand between their bodies.

She was surprised though, when Sanghyuk grabbed her wrist, and pushed it gently over her head, intertwining their fingers together.

“But-” She started, confused.

“Don’t worry,” He commented, still pressing kisses to her lips. “This wasn’t for me.”

She didn’t complain, especially when he trailed his lips over her cheek and down her jaw. Somehow, she would have argued more, but he seemed okay and sincere with his decision when he pulled away and helped her sit up.

In that second she could only focus on how much she adored him, his hair dishevelled and face flushed was beyond endearing. Sanghyuk picked up her underwear and he slid it up her legs as she stood up to make it easier for him, helping her put her skirt in place after he was done.

She pulled him into a kiss, bringing him closer by the shirt, and he made a surprised noise. It was a greedy kiss, but she very much tried to transmit her adoration, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep him close. She smiled, really happy, when he put his hands on her waist and started kissing her with even more passion than she did.

“Come to my place later?” She asked, quietly.

He seemed startled, looking into her eyes intensely for a hot minute.

“Okay.”

#vixx scenarios #vixx scenario #vixx fanfic #vixx fanfiction #vixx imagines #vixx hyuk #han sanghyuk #vixx #sanghyuk #smut

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joonsdiary · 4 years

Text

worth fighting for (05)

pairing: jungkook x female reader genre/warning: a pinch of fluff, a dash of angst / royalty au, historical au / tw: the constant yearning is ever omnipresent, oc/reader in constant denial, would probably consider this slowburn word count: 5,559

summary: fresh out of the perils of war, jungkook didn’t think that his task as the newly appointed general would be to look after you.

FIVE.

“No, you need to grip it harder.”

You roll your eyes at Jungkook’s command but follow his instructions anyway. Beads of sweat roll down the nape of your neck but you pay it no mind, focused on the task at hand — so to speak. Getting down and dirty is not a current concern for you; either way, you’re due for a bath soon. You lick your lips as you stare at him, eager to gauge his reaction. The general has proven to be hard to please, but you intend to impress. You did not want him to think you’re going into this blindly and without experience.

The anticipation in Jungkook’s eyes is palpable as he awaits your movement.

You charge towards him and swing deftly at his direction, which he dodges with unbridled swiftness. Clenching your jaw, you grip the sword’s handle as instructed seconds prior and turn to swing at him once more. Instead of avoiding it, he raises his right hand to block your sword with his. The unmistakable echo of clashing metals gains two pairs of eyes who look up from their task to witness the event.

“Good. You’re already getting better.” Jungkook pants as he lowers his weapon. You mirror his actions as a small grin creeps its way up to your lips. Not too far from where you stand, Jimin and Miyoung clap encouragingly. Jimin hollers for extra effect and you face to wave at them before bowing, earning a louder applause.

You chuckle at their antics and face Jungkook, curtsying towards him as you do. He knows it isn’t meant to be a serious gesture, so he waves you off, nodding his head with a look of encouragement apparent on his face.

It took several days of convincing before Jungkook agreed to teach you the basics of sword fighting. He wasn’t too keen on the idea — and you have a feeling he will never warm up to it despite agreeing — especially since he knows your father does not approve.

“But the king isn’t here to stop either one of us, is he?” You reasoned with him one morning when he had been busy embarking the carriage with extra supplies. You had all agreed to stop by a small village, taking precautions to conceal your true identity.

(It has been easy for Jimin and Miyoung, not so much for you and Jungkook. But you manage, nonetheless.)

“I just know he would not approve,” Jungkook murmurs, followed by a quiet, and how dare you speak of your father in that manner? He does not look at you, too focused on securing the blankets so they won’t fall as you continue trekking the bumpy roads.

“He had no problem when Hoseok taught me,” you attempt to reason with him. “Plus, it’s only been three days since your injury, and you’re still not at your full capability. You could use an extra hand.”

“But you’re supposed to be the one who needs protecting,” he seethes. You can tell he wishes for you to drop the matter.

You won’t budge, of course.

Stubborn as a mule, or so Jimin puts it. You’re aware he means it as a form of endearment but being compared to an animal never felt like a compliment.

He makes his way to the front of the carriage where the horses are and asks Jimin if he’s all settled. The older nods and grins, cheekbones protruding and eyes shifting to adorable tiny crescents. Jungkook turns to you once more.

“What happens if you’re the one who gets injured next time?”

You try not to read too much in the way his eyes gazed into yours, round and filled with worry. Ignoring the rapid thundering of your heart against your rib cage, you shrug. Feigning nonchalance always seems to work.

“I know I won’t be harmed if I learn from the best, right?”

The statement was untrue – Jungkook’s injuries are a testament that no matter how skilled one is in combat, they’re still human, and therefore vulnerable. But you figure boosting his ego will do the trick.

So, here you are on your second day of practice, trying to shake the rust off your joints. You still remember some of the moves Hoseok taught you; it’s just a matter of trusting your instinct as you continue sparring with Jungkook. Although he hasn’t made you learn anything too complicated yet, his reason being that he is technically still injured. He argues that moving around puts too much strain on himself.

Yet you see him carry loads of heavy items all the time. He sets up the tents, starts the fires, and occasionally tends the horses. You know he isn’t by any means holding you back – it’s just a matter of trying to coax him into teaching you more difficult movements. The man is easily swayed with words, after all.

“Your Highness!” Miyoung calls out and waves at you. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll be right there,” you shout back, before turning to Jungkook to hand him the sword. “Thank you for today.”

He grunts in response and motions for you to lean it against the rock as he carefully cleans his with a cloth. There is a sudden pause, more on your part, unsure which parting words to say to him.

Do you just leave? Or does the situation warrant some sort of goodbye? See you later, perhaps? The schedule for today did not guarantee that you’ll see him again in a one-on-one situation any time soon and saying see you later seemed way too informal. So, after thoroughly searching your brain for something, you come up with —

“I’m going to bathe now,” you announce aloud.

His expression morphs into a grin at your revelation and you berate yourself mentally. It’s not like you needed to declare it to him as if he already didn’t know. Now it just seems like you’re trying to invite him to go into the lake with you as if to say – ‘I’m going to bathe now; would you like to join me?’

Idiotic, pea brain, airhead —

His chuckle interrupts your thoughts, a deep rumble that comes from the back of his throat, sending your nerves in a frenzy for reasons unknown to yourself.

“I know.” Gods, you’re itching to smack the haughtiness out of his face. “Do you wish for me to join you?”

“I knew you would say that.” You roll your eyes despite the warmth creeping from your neck up to your cheeks. You are probably a whole tomato right about now. “I just said it because I wanted to make sure you’re aware, in case something terrible happens.”

Not quite. But you slipped up and you’ll rather make up a believable lie than admit otherwise.

“You didn’t say no.” He taunts you; the small grin now forms a smile that occupies his whole face. “I’ll take that as a go-ahead —”

“No, you degenerate.”

Jungkook grins as he watches you stomp away, grumbling to yourself about god knows what. He pinches his hot earlobes, hoping you didn’t notice their bright crimson tint.

“You seem to be having fun, Your Highness,” Miyoung drawls on the last two words, her tone teasing. Your stare is cold, but you realize you genuinely have no idea what she could be referring to, so your brows knit in confusion. She moves behind you, grabbing the strings of your dress before pulling it tight, drawing a hiss from you. Realizing she hasn’t answered your cause for confusion, you voice your concern.

“What do you mean?” You tug the damp strands of your short hair, twirling it absentmindedly between your fingers. Fun is not the word you should use to describe the events leading up to today. The conversation a few nights back after getting attacked — and you admitting that perhaps killing said attacker didn’t leave you feeling gratified — left Jungkook more distant than he usually is. It took plenty of coaxing and promises to let him teach you and although he’s hesitant to show you advanced movements, it’s infinitely better than nothing.

“I’m sorry I had to interrupt your alone time with the general,” she carefully loops the strings into a taut bow. You exhale out a scoff, hating how little room you had to breathe.

“It was hardly ‘alone time’, with you and Jimin so close,” the words are out of your mouth before you realize the weight of their meaning. “I didn’t mean –”

“Duly noted. If you were so privy to time spent with him, you should’ve let me know sooner.” She turns you around and you’re met with the playful glint in her eyes. You know she will not drop the subject despite your protests, as you’ve learned from her numerous taunting.

“It’s good that you’re releasing some of that tension, though,” Miyoung continues her one-woman monologue when you don’t respond. You tilt your head to one side as your eyebrows twitch. “You’re too tense around him even more than usual lately.”

“I’m not —”

“And who could blame you? With those massive shoulders of his. Don’t deny it, Your Grace. I saw how you looked at him the other day while dressing his wounds.”

“I wasn’t —”

“I mean, the man stands as if he’s a mountain daring to be climbed. Don’t mind if I do.”

“Miyoung!” Your voice is apprehensive, hoping it’s enough to chastise her. But it had been too late; the images you’ve been trying to push out have seared themselves into every nook and cranny of your brain. You’re reminded of the way his undershirt clung onto his sweat-clad body after hours of jousting. It had been particularly difficult to keep your eyes from trailing anywhere down south of his collarbone.

The short trip down the memory lane coloured your cheeks the slightest hue of crimson. It’s enough to warrant Miyoung’s descent to a fit of giggles.

“Speak of the devil,” her attention is caught by confident footsteps behind you and you don’t even have to think twice because who else could it be? “Your meal order has arrived.”

You give her an exasperated look before spinning on your heels. Your breath catches.

You hadn’t particularly noticed how much taller he is compared to you — there was never the need to point out such obvious discrepancies or make a big deal out of them. It was a simple fact of the matter. But now that Miyoung has pointed it out, it was tough to wedge it out of your system.

It hasn’t always been that way since you’ve grown immune to her taunts about Jungkook. It reminded you of your sheer inelegance more than a month ago — when he had discovered you traipsing in the middle of the night with Luna in a feeble attempt at liberation — and how warm and sturdy he felt underneath you. How strong arms helped you up your feet, regaining the balance you had lost. How far you need to lean upon your toes to be able to reach his lips with yours. A mountain daring to be climbed.

You gulp as he approaches, his figure easily towering yours.

Miyoung asks something behind you as soon as Jungkook is within earshot, but with all the blood rushing to your eardrums it’s quite a challenge to understand anything and everything going on around you.

“I just couldn’t turn down Her Highness’s invitation for a bath, could I? Although I suppose I’d arrive a little too late.” Jungkook taunts, eyes gleaming with playfulness. But you blink up at him, mouth slightly agape and throat dry. He swipes his hair away from his face, a look of confusion replacing his frisky demeanour. Oh, how must it feel to run your fingers through his soft locks?

“Are you alright?”

The worried look on his face is enough to return you down from whatever cloud you’d been in. Face flushed, you blink up at him before giving Miyoung a slanted gaze, who is studying you with the same distressed look. Surely, you’d have said something by now. That’s how it is with you and Jungkook and your back-and-forth banter.

“I, um,” your eyes are frantic, searching for something to land on other than him. His hand reaches for yours , but you flinch back—perhaps a little too excessive as the corner of his mouth turns to a frown at your reaction.

“I need a moment.” To breathe, first and foremost.

You didn’t wait for his reply, absolving yourself of his overwhelming presence, brushing ever so slightly against his forearm as you walked past him. You frown at your reaction.

“Your Highness —” Jimin comes bumbling by, but you quickly cut him off with a terse smile.

“Enjoy your bath.”

You are absolutely floored, the wind knocked out of your lungs and all. The realization couldn’t have come at more perfect timing. Of course, you like Jungkook. Your attraction to him is palpable; you aren’t fooling anybody by continuing to deny otherwise. Not Miyoung, at least, who probably saw this long before you had.

The question is: when did I not like him? It feels like I never stopped.

You groan at your thoughts and pause mid-walk to squat low on the ground, burying your face in your warm and sweaty palms. Denial is your middle name, and that has been your game since forever. Feigning ignorance of your feelings becomes your second language to the point where you’ve deluded yourself against any form of admiration towards the said general.

I’m fooling myself. Again. You can’t bear the thought of potentially embarrassing yourself like you did many moons ago trying to get Jungkook to watch that stupid play with you.

At least you’re not in denial any longer. Suppressing your feelings might be better in hindsight now that you’re aware of them.

…Or maybe not.

How naïve of you to think that pretending your feelings didn’t exist — despite being fully aware of them — is a better alternative to any other option. But you’re not one to back down from any challenge.

The next few days are not exactly breezy.

There’s the usual bit of travelling, the occasional settling down when the weather isn’t too great, then more travelling. You’re growing accustomed to the little schedule you have going on. Except Jungkook has increased your training hours. And even though it had been your goal to be taught by him, he hasn’t given you much to work with, either. It had been the same tiresome dance over and over again.

True to her word, both Miyoung and Jimin did not linger within earshot every time you practiced with Jungkook. Turns out being in close proximity to the very person you’re attracted to when you’re trying hard to close yourself off to those same feelings can backfire. Hard.

“You’re too tense,” Jungkook utters, seemingly out of the blue. But you know it’s not a random observation. He circles you, one hand clasped behind his back and the other holding a wooden sword. He insists that you practice with props recently, citing that you’ve been ‘too preoccupied in your daydreams recently’ and that ‘it’s too dangerous to spar with real swords if you’re distracted.’ Yeah. Whatever. You’re too tired, both physically and emotionally, to argue with anything Jungkook says, so you go along with what he decides for the sake of your inner peace.

“Why does everybody keep saying that?” You snap at him unintentionally. His eyebrows quirk up in interest and your heart hammers wildly in your chest.

“Oh, so it’s not just me that noticed.”

There’s a pause, and you watch him carefully from the corner of your eyes, gauging whether he’ll strike at the very moment or not. He doesn’t, and in your impatience, you attempt to take a jab on his torso which he dodges with finesse. He grabs your arm and twists it in a way that does not hurt so much as to unhand you of your weapon. You wince, nonetheless, and he quickly let go.

“You need to be patient. You’re going to get hurt attacking blindly like that.”

“I know,” you mumble, fingers skimming lightly over your wrist. They burn, not because his touch is painful, but because his hand feels soft, leaving lingering feelings in the pit of your stomach. That is something that has been happening a lot as well. Any sort of physical contact with him makes you feel inebriated as if you’d puke all the contents of your stomach from a mere touch.

“What is it that has you so wound up like a tight rope lately?” Jungkook attempts to circle back to the conversation as you pick up your wooden weapon.

You do, you almost say out loud. But you keep your lips sealed shut and get into position instead. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, to demand an explanation to how he has managed to pull your heart right out of your chest and dangle it teasingly in front of your face. Out of reach. Your poor, poor heart. Give it back, you thief.

“How cruel,” you find yourself muttering loud enough for Jungkook to hear.

“Hm?”

He straightens up as if he’s ready to soak in all you have to say. To be fair, you haven’t given the man much to work with, opting to shut him out completely. You don’t make a conversation when it’s not necessary and only spend time with him during practices. It’s not like there is a need to do so outside of it, anyway. Despite your current circumstance, you’ve attempted to the best of your ability to stay as far away from him as you possibly can.

Which makes your current situation laughable. Alone in the middle of a dense grassland, surrounded by the wind and the mountains that stretch miles and miles away. You and him.

“I said, you’re cruel for overworking me. I don’t remember agreeing to increased practice time.”

“I don’t remember you opposing it, either.” He wears an easy smile, which ticks you off even further.

You inhale between your gritted teeth and take another jab at his torso, this time accidentally hitting the wound that’s only beginning to heal. He grimaces in obvious pain and panic surges through your veins. You quickly drop your wooden sword as you approach him with caution, unsure of where to place your hands so you hover like a half-wit.

“I — Jungkook — I didn’t mean to, I swear.” You lower your hands, wringing them together as your head bows in shame. He exhales a short chuckle and your breath catches at your throat at his unexpected reaction. You expect to be reprimanded for being so careless.

“Good thing we opted for these rather than the real thing, huh? You would have had to stitch me up all over again.”

His placid attitude did nothing but put a wrench in your heart, squeezing it painfully. You almost wish he’d lash out at you, just so the task of pushing him away came easier. Why won’t you let me hate you?

“You’re doing that a lot lately, too.”

Startled by his words, you look up at him and meet gaze for the first time in a while, unwavering. Oh, how easy it is to lose all trails of thoughts as you navigate your way through the depths of his eyes.

“You’re distant — unfocused. You’re jittery and nervous all the time. You mumble a lot, which is frankly starting to become irritating.”

He closes the distance between the two of you, eyes scanning you with curiosity. His piercing gaze disarms you, rooting you to your spot.

“You haven’t been shy before when you berate me to my face, loud enough for all the world to hear. What’s stopping you now?”

Jungkook grins, teasing. He was trying to get a reaction out of you; picking your brain for some sort of response. Is that what he thought you’d been saying under your breath recently? That you’re badmouthing him? It’s not exactly your fault either that it turns out you’ve been mumbling some of your thoughts out loud.

But you do not dare give him the satisfaction of an answer, knowing that you’ll just continue circling one another. The only difference is he’ll leave unscathed, while you stay to pick up the pieces of your shattered feelings. So, no, you are not about to lay bare for him to step all over your poor feelings.

Lay bare.

You want to slap yourself at the image you’ve mentally drawn. Now is not the appropriate time for such scandalous thoughts. Or ever.

“I lost you again just now, didn’t I?”

You manage a tight smile. Guilty as charged. Jungkook doesn’t return the favour, however, his forehead creasing in confusion — or is it worry? You did not want to dwell on the thought for too long.

Jungkook shifts his weight between his legs, swaying back and forth slowly. It’s clear that he has a lot on his mind, so you wait for him to speak.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

Your eyebrows arched, eyes questioning. It seems like a running theme now — him talking while you refuse to say anything.

“About this whole,” Jungkook pauses, hands gesturing aimlessly like a mime, “…arrangement. We’ve only been travelling for a little more than a week. It’s not too late to return and ask your father to reconsider everything.”

You shake your head, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Tempting, but no. It’s not like I have a choice,” your tongue slips, not intending to say the last sentence out loud.

You pray he didn’t catch any of what you’ve said, but the devastated look on his face tells you otherwise. He steps close enough that you feel his warm breath on your forehead. The smell of firewood and soap intertwines, and you presume he’s wearing a freshly washed shirt. Your head begins to spin as your knees weaken, threatening to give out at that moment.

Be still, heart.

You clear your throat and gather your wits before taking a step back, the tall grass tickling the back of your legs.

“What I mean is that I’ve made up my mind. I can’t just back out now; the implications would be devastating. Not just for me, but the whole country.” For you, too.

The thought of Jungkook being swept away to another war was too much for your mind to wrap around. You couldn’t possibly do that. Not to him. The possibility of sacrificing more lives senselessly when you’re

Jungkook’s mouth opens like he’s about to say something, but you shake your head once more as if to say we’re done talking about this. You know Jungkook understands; he’s one of the few people whose sense of duty comes before anything and anybody else.

That’s why the next words that come out of his mouth knock you off balance.

“Would it hurt for you to be selfish and put your needs before others?”

* * *

Jungkook blinks back in surprise. He has no idea where that statement stems from. But it felt appropriate to say, courtesy be damned. He wasn’t speaking as a general giving advice to the princess, but rather from one friend to another.

Since when were we friends, anyway? The thought sends a funny feeling to Jungkook’s stomach.

He can tell that you’re just as surprised as him, and for a split second, he can sense your vulnerability. He hadn’t witnessed it when the king bore you the news of your demise, and you didn’t show flashes of weakness either when you were almost kidnapped. He had always known you to be strong-willed, independent, and resolutely stubborn. A force to be reckoned with.

The thought makes Jungkook chuckle, and you eye him with suspicion.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?” Any hint of weakness along with the heaviness of his statement vanishes as you snap at him. That particular conversation, it seems, will need to be shelved for another day.

Jungkook dips his chin, opting to answer your question with an inquisition of his own. He isn’t quite finished with you just yet.

“Is that all there is to it, though? You’re peeved about the increase in training hours?”

He’s unsure of what your answer will be. But even if you’d ask, he wouldn’t reveal that he was doing this with the intention of finding out why you’d been distant lately; more than what he’s used to, anyway. He hadn’t even noticed how much time you spent with him until you began avoiding him. Gone are the days of jabs and banter and are replaced with silence and brooding; a total opposite of that one moment you shared your aversion to violence and reluctance to hurt people. You had shared your concerns and broke down your defences only to build them back up again.

Is he wrong to assume that in the few weeks you’d spend together, some sort of friendship was formed? It appears so, seeing the way you expertly dodged his every attempt to close the gap — both literally and figuratively.

He tries to test his theory by stepping forward. As if on cue, you take one step back. The desire to keep you at arm’s length brews within him, the feeling intensifying at your every attempt to evade him. He wanted nothing more than to grab you by the arm and shake both your shoulders, demanding an answer to the question that had been driving him mad the past couple of days.

So, he does exactly that. You yelp in surprise, but his vice-like grip remains. He accepts your lack of protest as consent and doesn’t let go.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

As his eyes search your frantic ones, his mind wanders to a particular memory that sets this whole thing off. It evidently has something to do with whatever he’s said or done because he didn’t observe the same change in demeanour with Miyoung and Jimin. He’s the problem—that much he knows of. He comes up empty, however; there had been nothing he said or did you that stood out to him in particular.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jeon,” you croak, voice pitched and unnatural. “If I was avoiding you, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, but not physically. You’ve been out of it lately. Care to elaborate?”

Jungkook needs to know. If he had so much offended you in any capacity, he wants to make sure to do right by you. But apparently, you have other plans. With your mouth set in a straight line, your head shakes from one side to another. What was it about him admiring your tenacity for stubbornness? There are times he wishes for you to give in and not resist so much.

“Do you mind?”

Your voice is meek, a mere whisper, and it’s enough to snap him out of his stupor. Frowning, he retreats his hands, letting them fall nimbly on his side.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he sighs and his heart wrenches as he steps back. “If you really don’t want to share it, I won’t pry.”

You nod, visibly relaxing. He picks up the discarded wooden sword and continues. “But you have to stop being so…rigid. It’s not going to make it easier for you. Or for me.”

He grins, pointing at his lower torso. If you weren’t going to let him in on whatever secret you have, he at least hopes to smooth away some tension.

“You deserve it,” your eyes glimmer with humour. She’s back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm,” you nod fervently, grabbing the sword from him. “For overworking me. I’m still royalty, you know.”

“That you are,” he resists the urge to tousle your hair playfully. “But if I remember correctly, your exact words to me were: ‘Don’t treat me any differently than you would any other trainee.’”

Your lips purse, gaze scanning him dubiously. “You got me there.”

There’s a beat of silence before you speak again.

“I didn’t mean to, though.” Your eyes fill with worry as you eye his torso, and Jungkook fears you’d spiral once again and close off on him.

He shrugs in good nature and slips his hand underneath his shirt, feeling for the bandage. The worries which stemmed from that event that led him to believe he’s unqualified for this task are beginning to feel foreign and far away as the skin of his wound slowly heals.

Yet he couldn’t help but ask.

“Why the sudden interest in brandishing swords? Do you truly deem me unfit to protect you after I got hurt?”

He didn’t mean to sound defensive, but it does bruise his ego a lot more than he’d like to admit. He wants to save you the trouble of aching muscles and hours wasted on practice, but you somehow cannot accept ‘no’ for an answer. He feels almost cheated for being coaxed to coach you.

“I never said you were,” your tone is clipped. “I thought we’ve already gone over this. You need all the help you can get, especially if we come across something like that again.”

“You’re a better archer. It’s safer, too. It puts you at a distance from potential attackers.” Jungkook presses.

“Would it hurt to know about sword fighting?” You challenge him, and the air of friendliness vanishes once more.

“Yes, it would,” Jungkook deadpans, pointing to the spot where his injury is healing. “As I said, proximity when it comes to close combat proves to be more d—”

“You think arrows are any safer? In case you forgot, I killed somebody with it,” your voice rises as you get closer to him.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! You need to play up to your strengths. Stick with what you’re good at,” he reasons, trying not to raise his voice out of respect. There’s a pause in the conversation, and Jungkook thinks you’ve dropped the subject.

Although the silence is short-lived. “Is that why you refuse to teach me anything beyond the basic skills?” your gaze is filled with anger, your every word laced with frustration.

“Yes,” Jungkook says earnestly, but fear pools in the pit of his stomach. It was the first time he felt that perhaps he should have opted to not tell the truth. But he can no longer take those three letters back, no matter how much he wants to. He’s starting to feel torn between his own decisions; making you angry had not been his intention.

“You’re not making any sense. You said I was brave.” Jungkook watches your lips move, but the words barely register in his brain.

“You are,” he says, almost exasperatedly. The back and forth dance between both of you is beginning to carve his patience thin. The air hums with intensity as neither one of you is willing to back down.

“You say that yet you won’t teach me advanced combat,” you assert defiantly.

His temper ignites as he grits his teeth as his jaw clenches with indignation. But he is teaching you. Maybe not in the way you wanted, but he’s still making the effort. What will it take for you to understand that he is merely trying to keep you from getting hurt?

“Either you trust me to be able to handle it, or you think I’m too delicate to be taught. It can’t be both, General Jeon.”

Oh, so you are back to being formal with him. Jungkook resists the urge to roll his eyes. “The answer is still going to be a no.”

He turns, wanting to leave the conversation, but your next words have him rooted to the ground.

“Hoseok wouldn’t have kept me from learning. I wish he was still here.”

“Yeah, well, I wish it had been me who died instead of him, too.” Jungkook answers without missing a beat, the phrase tasting rancid in his mouth.

Jungkook knows he will never eclipse his brother. Not in talent. Not in the outpour of attention he got from his parents. Not in his easy-going nature that has people enamoured by him. Most certainly not in your adoration for him.

How does one compete with a dead person? He chuckles bitterly at the thought.

He keeps his back to you, shielding you away from the storm brewing in his eyes. He attempts to blink back the tears pooling in his lashes as he focuses on the horizon.

“Jungkook, I —”

He begins to walk away before you can get another word in. Somewhere deep in the crevices of his mind, the thought of wanting to be held back swims without restraint. For you to reach out, hold him, and tell him it was going to be alright.

But the reality is much harsher than the tiny little daydreams in his head, and you make no attempt to stop him in his tracks. Each step he takes feels as if he’s being dragged deeper into quicksand; he simply can’t escape the dread that follows.

Given the choice between having his heart ripped out from his chest for the second time in his life or getting stabbed in the torso, Jungkook thinks he prefers the latter.

— prev ; next ; series masterlist

taglist: @apurpledheart @mygukandonly @fan-ati--c

#jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #jeongguk scenarios #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook #remember when this fic had a plot? ya me neither lmao #writing

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bush-viper-cutie · 3 years

Text

“Uncovered and Secured” || YEAR 3 – Ch.38 (HP au)

Chapter List

<-- Last Chapter Next Chapter -->

Day posted: 1/9/2021

Word count: 3, 411

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

Happy Birthday Severus Snape!

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~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Heather wiped her mouth with her sleeve and turned back around.

Harry pulled her aside, frowning. “Heather are you ok?”

Heather looked over Harry’s shoulder at Black, Lupin, and Crookshanks – who was hissing, spitting, and snarling with claws out and ready – surrounding the cowering man. Professor Trelawney’s words were spinning around in her head like a twirling tornado. Sirius Black was a convicted murderer, CONVICTED. Even Fudge went to see him. Surely… Surely he must have been given a chance to explain. Someone must have looked into his involvement. Dumbledore must have known somehow… ANYTHING. But Peter... Lupin was convinced Sirius Black was innocent. If Peter really was the one who betrayed their parents, then it would be Peter who would be returning to Voldemort tonight.

She looked at Harry again and shook her head.

Lupin took his wand back and Sirius Black picked up Snape’s. Both men held them out, pinning Peter in place.

“Hello, Peter,” Lupin greeted him pleasantly, as if they had both bumped into each other on the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley. “Haven’t seen you in some time.”

Peter was still crouching, trembling slightly, trying to make himself shorter than he already seemed. He had his hands out close to his chest like Scabbers had often done when he sat on his hind legs. He had a bald spot in the middle of his matted blonde hair that grew out in tufts that stopped at his sideburns. His eyes were beady and looked around at Lupin, Black, and Harry and Heather.

“S-Sirius… R-Remus…” Peter squeaked. “M-my old friends… M-my friends… I’ve missed you so!” He gave a small smile that wrinkled his eyes.

Black raised his wand arm, ready to unleash a flurry of spells but Lupin’s free arm extended out, stopping him from reacting to the small man’s words.

“How nice it is to have you join our little chat,” Lupin’s voice remained soft and casual. “See, we’ve been talking about the night Lily and James died.”

Peter’s smile dropped. He licked his dry, cracked lips and turned his hands palm up, though he still kept them tucked close to his body. “Remus… Y-you don’t believe him do you? He tried to kill me… murder me… Remus…!”

Lupin fixed his jaw, setting it tight at the sound of his name. “Yes. I’ve heard.”

Peter stuck out his middle finger and pointed it at Black – his hand had only four finger, with the knuckle of his index finger ending in a clean scar where a finger should have been. “He’s come to kill me!” The unnatural squeak of his voice turned raspy. “He killed Lily and James and now he’s come to murder me too… Remus… You’ve got to help me…”

Sirius Black was baring his teeth and looked at him with even more hatred than he’d looked at Snape. His eyelids pulled back so far his red-rimmed eyes bulged and his face looked more skull-like than ever.

“No one’s going to die tonight until we’ve sorted some things out… Peter,” Lupin lightened his cold voice, “Let’s clear up one or two little matters about that night, shall we?”

“What matters?” Peter squeaked. He looked around the room wildly and pointed at Black again. “He’ll kill us all with his Dark powers! He broke out of Azkaban when no one’s ever done it before, imagine what he’ll do to us all! Who knows what more of the Dark Arts He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has taught him! H-horrible things I’m sure… Horrible Dark tricks…!”

Heather felt the room spinning as fast as the tornado in her mind. “Harry,” she hissed. He turned to look at her and she knew she had to tell him. “A prophecy… Professor Trelawny she – ”

Black barked out a laugh, dropping his wand arm to hold his stomach. It struck the air horribly sending a chill down everyone’s spines. “Taught tricks? From Voldemort?”

Peter flinched, as if he’d been struck in the face.

Black sobered immediately, focusing his gaze on Peter. “What? Afraid to hear your old master’s name?” Black slowly smiled again, grinning at how horribly Peter was shaking. “Of course you must also be afraid of all your old palls, too, aren’t you? I hear they aren’t very happy with you… Not happy at all. I hear…” Black stepped forward menacingly, grin slowly shrinking. “They think the double-crosser double-crossed them. I hear…” He stepped closer once more. “They all think you’re dead, or you’d have to answer to them. I hear they all know Voldemort went to the Potter’s on your information… and met his downfall there. And that’s just what I hear from Azkaban… I hear… Not all his supporters ended up in there though. Did they? There are plenty still out there, biding their time, pretending they’ve seen the error of their ways… If they got wind that you were still alive… for twelve years alive and hiding from them, Peter – ”

“D-d-don’t know what – ” Peter swallowed. “What you’re talking about…” He wiped his face on his sleeve like a twitch and looked around again, his little eyes searching. He turned to Lupin again. “Remus! You can’t believe this – madness!”

“What innocent man spends twelve years as a rat, Peter?” Lupin shook his head. “It’s a little hard to understand.”

“Innocent! Yes! But also scared! If-f Voldemort’s supporters were after me then it is because I put their best man in Azkaban! The spy – Sirius Black!”

“Me? A spy?” Black growled. “When have I ever been the one to sneak around people stronger and more powerful than myself? You, Peter – Why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. After all! You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you? It used to be us… Remus, me… and James… But there were bigger friends out there. Weren’t there?”

Peter was panting, looking around wildly again. “Me? A spy… madness… you must be out of your mind… I’d never… don’t know how you could say – ”

“I convinced James and Lily to make you Secret-Keeper,” Black hissed, forcing a panicked jump out of Peter. “I thought it’d be the perfect plan… a bluff… Who’d ever use a weak talentless thing like you as their Secret-Keeper? I was sure Voldemort would come after me… I was prepared. Ready… Waiting to give up my life while little Peter hid, keeping our friends safe… I can’t imagine how grand you must have felt, telling Voldemort you could hand over the Potters – Must have been the finest moment of your miserable life!”

“Most farfetched… Absurd – ” Peter’s eyes were darting from the floor to the ceiling, the boarded up windows, to the closed door behind Lupin and Black. “Lunacy…”

Heather settled her eyes on Peter Pettigrew, ignoring the panging feeling that everything would go horribly wrong like it always did. He was looking for escape, but was it for fear of Sirius Black, or was he planning to run in search of his most powerful ‘friend’, Voldemort?

Hermione stepped forward again, swallowing thickly at the sight of the distraught man in front of her. “If… If I may ask – Why had he never tried to hurt Harry, if he was working for Voldemort? Scabbers – I mean – this man – he’s been sleeping in the boy’s dormitory for three years.”

Peter perked up at once and pointed at Hermione with a smile. “See, Remus! I would never want to hurt a single hair on Harry’s head! Why should I…? He – ” He pointed at Sirius Black again. “He injured Ron! Bit his leg and he would have hurt Harry if he had to! I kept them safe, running away when I did!”

“Easy answer,” Black snapped, ignoring Peter. “Why? Because this useless thing never does anything if he can’t see what’s in it for himself! Voldemort’s been in hiding for twelve years. He wasn’t about to commit murder right under Dumbledore’s nose – not for a half-dead wizard who’d lost all his power. That’s why you found a wizard family to take you in. To keep an ear out for news. Just in case your old protector came back and it was safe to rejoin him.”

Peter was opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water trying to breathe.

“But – so then – How DID you get out of Azkaban if you didn’t use Dark Magic?” Hermione asked.

“The dog. You turned into a dog, didn’t you?” Heather looked at Black who nodded. “They didn’t know you were an animagus when they locked you in.”

“That’s only part of it, I suppose.” Black shrugged. “I’m not too sure if that’s the reason – though that’s my guess as well… I kept sane as best I could, knowing I was innocent helped. And knowing I was innocent wasn’t a happy thought at all, so the dementors couldn’t suck that out of me. I repeated it to myself… over and over… It helped me keep my powers – weak as they became – until the day came when I transformed myself…” He looked at one of the windows, as if he could see out beyond it. “Dementors can’t see, you know… They let people’s emotions guide them… I think they could tell my emotions were less… human.” He swallowed. “I was obsessed, first with my innocence… then when I saw that picture – I knew where he was, in Hogwarts with Harry and Heather. Perfectly positioned to deliver the last two Potters should he hear word that his side was gathering strength again… Who’d dare say he betrayed Voldemort after that? He’d be welcomed back with honors... Knowing that, I became even more obsessed, and that cleared my mind… When the time came, I transformed. I slipped past them when they opened my cell to bring me my food… It’s hard for them to sense animal emotion… not impossible… but much harder. Then I swam as a dog back to the main land and journeyed north.”

“You were at the match that day…” Heather realized Harry had told her the truth about seeing the Grim, not just in the clouds.

Sirius Black looked at them, his sunken eyes much softer. He faced them fully and nodded. “Yes… Harry you fly as well as your father… I’m sad I could not watch any more matches. I did not want to bring any more dementors into your games.” He looked deeply into both Harry and Heather’s eyes, as if baring his soul to them. “Believe me… Please. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them.”

Heather swallowed. Suddenly, the man she had feared all year didn’t look anything like the man he was. Although he had the clothes of a prisoner and a wild dangerous look about him despite being skin and bones… Heather could see the genuine sadness of a man who’d lost someone he treasured. It was a pained longing… the same look she saw in Harry sometimes, deep into the night on hard summer days.

Harry looked at her and nodded. If anyone could recognize the hurt of losing James and Lily, their parents… it would be him. She nodded back.

“NO!” Peter fell to his knees and scuttled closer to Professor Lupin, his hands held up over his bent-down head as if in prayer. “Remus! You can’t – ”

Sirius kicked him onto his side and growled.

“S-Sirius! It’s me… It’s Peter… Your childhood friend… you wouldn’t…” He reached out to grab for Sirius. “You couldn’t possibly hurt – ”

Sirius stepped back. “I don’t need more filth on me.”

Still coiled in on himself Peter looked up imploringly at Professor Lupin. “Wouldn’t Sirius have told you they’d changed the plan…! Wouldn’t you have found out?”

Professor Lupin gave a quick tisk. “Not if he thought I was the spy… I assume that’s why I wasn’t told?” he asked Sirius casually.

Sirius gave an embarrassed smile. “Forgive me, Remus.”

“Not at all, Padfoot, old friend.” He began rolling up his sleeves. “And in turn, will you forgive me for believing you were the spy?”

“Of course, Moony.” He too began rolling up his sleeves and gestured to the sad heap of a man still coiled on the floor. “Shall we kill him together?”

Professor Lupin gave a nod. “Yes, I think so.”

Peter gasped and shuffled to his feet, still crouching down to half his height. “You won’t…! You can’t…!” He turned quickly and for the first time since he’d turned back, faced Ron and Hermione. He dove for Ron, holding up his hands again pleadingly. “Ron! I’ve been a good friend… a good pet to you!”

Ron looked more disgusted than when he’d drank the tea that Fred and George had melted all the bad flavors of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans they’d collected over the last five years.

Seeing the look on Ron’s face he turned to Hermione and shuffled on his knees to her. “Clever girl… You don’t believe them… how could you! Help me… Help – ”

Hermione backed away, drawing closer to Ron.

Peter turned slowly to Heather and Harry, his hands coming up to hid his face. “H-Harry… Heather… You’re parents wouldn’t – ”

Sirius seized Peter by the collar of his tattered robes. “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO THEM! HOW DARE YOU FACE THEM! HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT THEIR PARENTS IN FRONT OF THEM! AFTER WHAT YOU DID?”

Peter’s head fell limp on his shoulder and he looked at them despite Sirius’ face being inches from his own. “They wouldn’t have wanted me killed… James would have understood… he would have had mercy…”

Sirius threw him back onto the floor with disgust. “Do you deny selling James and Lily to Voldemort? DO YOU DENY IT?”

Peter’s face contorted and he began bawling. Great heaping tears rolled down his cheeks as he gasped and drew them away with the backs of his trembling hands. “S-Sirius! What could I have done! The Dark Lord… You have no idea…! He has weapons you can’t imagine…! I was so scared, Sirius… I was never brave like you and James and Remus! I never meant it to happen… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me to – ”

“YOU FRIGHTFUL LITTLE RAT!” Sirius bellowed. “YOU’D BEEN HIS SPY FOR NEARLY A YEAR! GIVING HIM INFORMATION FOR NEARLY A YEAR BEFORE JAMES AND LILY DIED!”

Peter shook his head and sobbed like whining child. “Because he was taking over everywhere! W-what would have been gained by refusing him?”

“Only INNOCENT LIVES! What more could one hope to gain when fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?”

“You don’t under-understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!”

Sirius clenched his fists and began trembling as hard as Peter was. He bent down furiously. “THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!”

Sirius stepped back, panting, and stood shoulder to shoulder with Professor Lupin as they both raised their wands.

Professor Lupin shook his head. “You should have realized… If Voldemort didn’t kill you… We would. Goodbye, Peter.”

The knot in Heather’s stomach loosened and she felt she could finally breathe. She turned away, although she knew she’d feel nothing but relief knowing there would be no servant making his way back to his master tonight.

“NO!” Harry yelled.

Heather whipped back around to see Harry had placed himself in front of Peter. “Harry!”

He faced their wands with open arms, shielding Peter. “You can’t kill him. You can’t.”

Professor Lupin and Sirius both looked startled and staggered back a step.

“Harry, this pest is the reason you have no parents… This truckling piece of vermin valued his own skin over your whole family. You heard him. He would have delivered you and your sister to Voldemort without a second thought if it meant he could continue about his filthy life,” Sirius snarled. “Step aside, Harry. He deserves this and more.”

“Yes, I know! But you can’t kill him… He should go to Azkaban. We’ll take him to the castle… hand him over to the dementors – just don’t kill him.”

Heather looked at him surprised. It was months ago, weeks go… hours ago that Harry would have killed the man who murdered their parents. He almost had. And now the pitiful wheezing man behind him was being shown great mercy… and now it was her that was willing to see him dealt with.

She sighed and moved next to Harry. “H-He’s right.”

“You sweet… children – I don’t deserve – thank you!” Peter bent his head down so that his forehead rested on Heather’s heals.

“Get off her!” Harry kicked him back. “We’re not doing this for you.” He turned to look Professor Lupin and Sirius in the eyes. “I don’t think Dad would have wanted his two best friends to become killers over someone so pathetic.”

Heather nodded. “And Peter can clear your name… Sirius.”

Sirius looked into her eyes and nodded, grasping the delicate extension of friendship and trust Heather had just thrown him. “In the end… it’s you two who have the right to decide what happens to him.” He lowered his wand hand.

They nodded.

“Very well… Stand aside and I’ll tie him up.” Professor Lupin motioned for them to part and as soon as they did, thin cords shot from his wand and wrapped around Peter.

Peter was groaning and wiggling under his binds but seemed well enough secure that Heather could catch her breath from the whole experience.

Peter stopped wiggling when Sirius pointed his wand at him again. “If you transform, Peter. We WILL kill you. Do you agree Harry? Heather?”

Harry nodded. Heather breathed out and turned away from Peter. “Yes.”

“Right, then.” Professor Lupin walked over to Ron and assessed his leg. “Why don’t we strap your leg up and take you back to the castle where Madam Pomphrey can mend your leg.”

Ron nodded and winced when Professor Lupin tapped his leg and said ‘Ferula.’ Bandages sprung out of his wand end and wrapped around Ron’s bloody leg. He stood with the help of Hermione and tapped his foot lightly on the floor. “Doesn’t hurt much anymore. Thanks.”

Heather looked over at Snape still knocked unconscious and poked his shoulder with her wand. “Er – what about Snape?”

Professor Lupin walked over and examined him. “There’s nothing very wrong with him. Still knocked out from those two spells – a little overenthusiastic with it weren’t you?”

Heather’s cheeks heated. “I didn’t like what he said… But I regret it.”

“I don’t,” Ron cut in with a laugh. “First Hermione now you. I hope you two DO keep up the good work coming next year.”

“Next year?” Hermione huffed. “We’ll be expelled after this!”

Professor Lupin chuckled. “I’m sure the Minister of Magic won’t allow the expulsion of Harry Potter, his twin, and the children responsible for capturing Sirius Black, clearing his name, and also capturing the man really responsible for those crimes…” He gave a smile and a shrug. “It’s not good press.”

“But we attacked a teacher,” Hermione whispered stubbornly.

“Right well. Perhaps we hold off on waking him up until we’re safely back in the castle.” Professor Lupin looked at Sirius and jerked his head back at Snape’s unconscious body.

Sirius nodded and pointed his wand. “Mobilicorpus.”

In an instant, Snape was lifted up into the air by his shoulders into a limp sort of standing position. His head rolled around as Sirius motioned him off the bed, and he looked more like a ragdoll then than seconds before when he was first lifted.

“Two of us should be chained to this, on top of the ropes… Just in case.” Sirius prodded Peter with his foot.

Ron stepped up, looking down at Peter with disgust. It looked like he was taking Scabbers’ true identity as a personal insult. “I’ll do it.”

Professor Lupin fixed the ropes and attached chains connecting Peter’s left arm to his own right and Peter’s right arm to Ron’s left. “Then it’s settled. Let’s make our way out… And leave all this in the past… as it should have been.” He looked around at the old and dust shrieking shack and gave them a grimace of disgust.

Crookshanks led the way out of the shrieking shack, tail held high at a job well done, and they all followed. Professor Lupin, Peter, Ron, and Hermione went through the trap door first, then Snape’s limp body, Sirius, Heather, and Harry.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

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vanillawinston · 4 years

Text

Mad World| Chapter ONE

Joker x OC(Jane Parker)

Summary: Jane was in the wrong place at the wrong time and suddenly her life was falling apart. The past and future of a dangerous obsession which changed his life and destroyed hers completely.

Warning for this chapter: angst, mention of torture, depressive mood

Next Part HERE

Lost. I was lost and I'll always stay lost. There was no place for people like me. They thought the right place should be here, in this cell, but it wasn't. I would always stay lost, homeless, hopeless.

Lonely I couldn't do anything but look at the grey wall of concrete in front of me, just like I did it every day for the last two years. After all this time I've started to believe the wall might has changed, that the color got darker, it didn't look that moldy anymore, but to be honest, nothing has changed. I was the only one who has changed.

I was broken. They have broken me. This life has broken me. Piece by piece it has taken everything from me until nothing had been left, it put me through this painful and horrible hell and now I was here, been treated like a threat, like I was crazy, mad, something I'm not. But how much can a life in complete isolation for two years change someone? I've never seen anything else than the guards or some professors who thought it would be funny, to explore my head. I've forgotten how fresh air smells, how the lovely song of the birds outside sounds, how green a forest can look alike and how delicious good food can taste. I've forgotten so many things and it seemed hopeless to ever escape this endless torture of nothing.

"Hey, little one." I looked up when I heard the squeal of the little window made out of steel open where the guards shoved me some food every day through, or whatever they dared to call food. Now I saw to the amused face of my personal guard, Officer cocksucker, that is what I've named him. His real name was Dan, but he was such a piece of shit that he had no right to be called anything nice or normal. He had the most fun in torturing me and always being an assaulting, woman hating bastard through the time. When I'll ever come out of here, he will be the first person I will kill by cold blood!

Coldly I looked to the man, who was in his mid-thirties, had short blonde hair and cold blue eyes. The eyes of the devil in my opinion.

"I've brought you some food," he said, and I snorted, looked back to my beloved wall. I've refused to eat anything for four days now. They won't allow me to die, but this didn't mean I would stop trying. I couldn't handle being in here for another two years or more. I knew that I would never be free, that they would never let me be free. If I was innocent or not, didn't matter to them, I was too valuable for them, knew too much, they couldn't and wouldn't just let me go. They were the real criminals of this city. They were cruel, they were merciless.

"You are really trying to ignore me, little one? I can see how hungry you are and some day you have to eat, darling." I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of spending attention to him in any way, so I kept ignoring him.

"As you wish, but I've just tried to protect you from any harm. Bring her out of here!" Scared I looked to the door when he opened it, saw how six brawny guys entered the cell and I jumped to my feet, was ready to defend myself, to fight, but I was weak, so damn weak. I just managed it to hit one of them in his face when I got a slap in my own so hard that everything started to spin around me. Tears formed in my eyes when they cuffed me and Officer cocksucker threw me over his shoulder like I was some toy, like I was nothing but some thing he could transport around like he pleased to.

"I hate you!" I hissed, moved around as much as I could, wanted to make it as hard as possible for him to carry me, knowing it would be painful to fall to the ground like this, but I didn't care. "I know you love me," he laughed amused and I fidget with my legs, screamed and shouted, just wanted to be far away from him. Of all people on earth he was the one who had the least right to touch me in any way. I just couldn't stand him touching me, preferred falling to the ground and breaking every single bone in my body over being touched by him ever again.

"Let me go!" I screamed, saw how some other prisoners looked out of their open windows in the doors to us and I was searching for one face among them, the face of Floyd. He was the only friend I had here, though we only had seen each other in here not more than three times. I met him some months ago when a guard was torturing him and me at the same time. He was kind, tried to protect me from this monster. In his eyes it was shocking how someone like me could be in a place like this. He saw me as this fragile little girl, a child.

Yeah one needed to have a lot of bad luck to end up here or maybe it was good luck, considering the beginning of my story. I had no idea if this was my personal luck, but if so, I had to be a horrible person in my earlier life, that is for sure.

"Shut up or your punishment will be a lot of worse!" the douchebag screamed, but I don't care. It didn't matter how weak I was, I would never show it to him. If he knew that I gave up, then I would truly be lost, he would be my downfall.

"JANE!" I looked up and smiled, saw to Floyd while passing by his cell. It was a good and calming feeling to see someone you actually cared about, who was important to you. It made me realize, that I wasn't alone, that he was here, even if I had to survive this on my own.

"FLOYD!" I screamed sobbing, was scared of what will happen, was scared of getting hurt again, suffered enough and just wanted to have some peace. This time I had no luck with a Floyd by my side who would try to keep me safe. I was alone in the torture room. It was me against the rest of the world and I wasn't strong enough for it anymore.

"Let go of the child you fucking assholes!" I heard him screaming, but his voice faded away when we kept moving. Will this nightmare ever find an ending? I knew most of the guys in here were horrible villains, murderer, but after all I've been through, I was sure that nobody deserved this. Even the Arkham had been a better place, and I knew about what I was talking about.

"Now he will have to suffer too and that is only on you, darling," the bastard said amused and I stopped fighting. It wouldn't change anything. This was a fight without any hope of winning. I lost it two years ago already, and now I will probably lose my sanity too if it wasn't already too late for it.

The acquaintance with the chair I was tied to was one I've made a long time ago. When I first got here all this time ago, I was tortured on it almost daily, just out of fun. Batman personally wanted that they would treat me good and nice, but of course nobody cared enough. I wasn't important enough for anyone, and even the all so perfect Batman forgot about me. In the end I was still a criminal and criminals deserve to be punished. When he had brought me here, I've seen that he didn't saw me as a threat, but he knew it wasn't safe enough to let me free, and this is how I ended up here. In the past I tried my best to behave, to be good, so they will eventually let me go or transfer me over to an ordinary prison, but after some weeks I've realized, they would never let me go, the would always find another reason for hurting me.

"You know I don't like doing this," the bastard said while kneeling in front of me, "But you don't give me another choice." It was hard staying calm, while he stroked my face softly, tried not to shiver or to throw up. He was disgusting. When he stood up and walked over to one of the shelves where all the funny toys for torture were paced on, I felt how my heart started beating faster and how cold sweat spread on my forehead. I tried not to die internally out of fear, but I knew that whatever would happen now, it will hurt. I will scream, I will cry, and I will beg him to stop, but he won't. It was always like this, and I tried to tell myself, that the pain wasn't that bad anymore after all this time, but it was a lie. It still hurt, but it was more bearable, considering I knew what will happen, how bad it will be.

"I start to believe she likes being treated like this," the cocksucker laughed dirty while he put some wires on my body. Electricity. Oh yeah, this will be painful. I ignored the other guards and how they laughed over Dan's dirty jokes, tried to distract myself by thinking about a free future where I will find all of them and kill them one after one. This never had been my way of thinking, but this place has changed me truly.

"Ready to enjoy your pain?" Another guard asked me, standing by the switch and was excited to flip it and to see me suffer.

"When I get out of here, I won't just kill you, but your whole family, and I will force you to watch," I said with a dry throat and for a second he seemed nervous, but it didn't last long, he knew I won't ever get out.

"Not so rude, darling," Dan said, was ready to give the signal, but before he could do that, the doors opened and shocked I saw to the guards, leading no one else than Amanda Waller into the room.

"You fucking bitch," I mumbled quietly, could not believe, she was here, looked at her completely confused. I hadn't seen her for two years, since I've been locked up here and now, she was back. Back then she had promised me, I would only be locked up for a couple of days. Liar.

"Free her!" Amanda ordered and I saw how unhappy Dan was, while he freed me from this chair.

"Oh the hero of our nation is here," I giggled, tried to stand up, but my bloodstream was really fucked up and I almost fell to the ground when it wasn't for another guard who held me, although he didn't really looked like a guard, something was different about him.

"Thank you," I mumbled, teared away from him, and looked hatefully to the woman in front of me.

"I see, you haven't forgotten who I am."

"You are the cunt who had promised me that I will be free after some days, but instead I am here for two fucking years and have been treated like I'm crazy!" I hissed and saw how the man who had helped me looked confused to her. "Who is this girl? What is so special about her?"

"This is Jane Parker. She might seem harmless and innocent, but you will see how useful and dangerous she can be." Saying this she eyed me, then looked to Dan, "What have you done to her? Why is this child more dead than alive?" "She won't eat," Dan answered simply.

"And then you want to torture her?" the man asked in shock, saw to all the other guards here like they were crazy. Finally, someone who understood me.

"Methods of chastise," Dan said, and I laughed. "Yeah, they are very effective."

"You said she was a child. Why on earth is a child locked up here?" he asked upset, "And how can a child be useful for this mission?" "Mission?" I asked interested, but of course they ignored me.

"She isn't a child anymore. She is 19 but was 17 when we locked her up, and she is useful, because she was the favorite toy of the Joker," she explained and I flinched, felt like something inside of me ripped a little bit when she mentioned his name.

"The Joker... but Harley..."

"Harley Quinn is nothing compared to her, even though you should probably not mention it in front of Quinn, she thinks just like the Joker that Jane here is dead," Waller explained and I tried my best not to lose my mind with all those emotions inside of me. All this time I've managed it not to think about him, just for this bitch to show up and ruin it.

"Ok, but what exactly can this girl do?" the man asked still confused.

"She is good in close combat, the best person in throwing knives you will ever see, and her way of thinking is kind of useful." Her way of thinking. Wow, what a compliment.

"I have no idea, what all of this is about, but I won't do shit. I prefer staying here and dying," I said and saw how the woman smiled. "You will do as I say, and we can talk about your release once again," she said and to my dislike she kind of baited me with her words. I looked to Dan who went pale form her words and I smiled happily.

"I'm in."

"Stop, stop, stop," the man said. "What is it, Flagg?" Flagg? Interesting name.

"None of the others will be released, why her? She was the Joker's girl, isn't she extremely dangerous? I've seen Harley. You can't let her go."

"She was with him, and is dangerous, but still she was never found guilty." "And still I am here," I said amused and found the confusing look of this Flagg adorable. He didn't understand half of the things here, but he didn't have to. I didn't understand them either.

"She'd been locked up to weaken the Joker, and it worked, they've gotten him and brought him to the Arkham, but he escaped, thanks to his talent in manipulating Harley Quinn," Waller said and seemed like she had more than enough from this topic, "She only remained here, because we had no idea of how useful she might become one day, just like now. So, we have Deal." She looked strict to me and I nodded. Nothing would be easy, not at all, but there was finally this small chance of getting out of here and hope can be a bitch, but I don't care, I wanted to get out of here and this was my best shot.

Aloha :) Hope you liked the first real chapter. Sorry for any grammar or editing mistakes. Tell me if you like to be tagged. GIF IS NOT MINE

#joker #jared leto #jared leto joker #suicide squad #dc #joker x reader #joker fanfiction #dc fandome #the joker

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keeponshouting · 3 years

Text

After Infection

This is a rewrite and hopefully eventual completion of a massive multiverse mash-up of my OCs with a couple belonging to @whenromancesmoked and a few others from back in the day. I have absolutely no idea if anyone else is going to be interested in reading this (ok, I know a few people who will probably read it) but psh. I’m having fun and want to share.

Note: This is also a George Romero tribute of sorts. Like I started it for giggles because my PB for one of the characters was in the Dawn of the Dead remake and it just snowballed, which I guess means I should throw a WARNING: ZOMBIES sign up here or something. Anyway!

After Infection: Dawn of the Dead

It had seemed like a good idea at the time – or, well, more accurately, it had seemed like the right thing to do. There was a request from fellow hunters in a small town a few hours’ drive south and things had been quiet lately back home so Nate had figured that they could spare the time and energy. Besides, Dennis had been going pretty stir crazy for a while. Even if it was a hunt, it would be a good excuse to get out on the road for a while, a sort of vacation.

It had not turned out even remotely like a vacation.

They had been a little too late to the original party but apparently just in time for things to get much, much worse. Nate had brought a variety of tools just in case but he had primarily been prepared for an infestation of what locals called “hell rats,” a creature that was pretty common in the south and usually pretty easy to handle if you found their nests quickly enough. Sure they were venomous but as long as you were careful… He had not been expecting an infestation of zombies.

“The lot looks pretty clear right now.” Dennis is hunched over at the door, using the peephole to take a quick survey of the goings on outside their hotel room while Nate brews a second pot of coffee to get him through whatever the morning brings. After all, as long as decent coffee is available, he might as well take advantage of it. Lord knows he might have to go without for a while and God help his poor boyfriend’s patience if that happens.

When Dennis stands up straight again, his head is just about even with the top of the doorframe and he yawns as he leans back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. “So, come up with any plans yet or are we still waiting for the caffeine to kick in?”

Nate snorts into his cup and foregoes actually taking a drink for the moment in order to respond. “You ask that like I have any idea what sort of plan to use here. I’ve met exactly zero hunters who’ve actually had to handle zombies in the past decade at least. I honestly don’t think they’ve ever been a problem this far north before.”

“Well, there sure are a lot around here for something that’s never been a problem.”

“Some forms of infection can spread at an exponential rate in populated areas.” He drains a good half of the coffee in hand. “Our best bet is probably just to find out if there are any other non-infected people anywhere around here.”

Dennis flops across the bed, face down, with a muffled grunt.

Nate just silently continues drinking as the percolator finally finishes beside him and he very seriously considers making a third pot, just in case.

---

Zombies – shambling, groaning, flesh-eating, nearly Hollywood perfect zombies. For fuck’s sake. This should have been such an easy fucking job and now there are zombies.

Viktor strings together another line of curses, voice little more than a low growl, as he chambers another cartridge. Beside him, a terrified little girl whimpers. He simply scowls, sets Glock number one aside, lights a cigarette, and pulls out number two. “Zatraceně zasraný vědci.” Leaning over toward the window, he catches sight of a proper target and empties the last bullet into the back of its skull. What a fucking cliché.

This was supposed to be simple. They had agreed on that fact the moment that the specifications of the job had crossed the table. It should have been routine, easy money. Three towns, three targets, each plan the same; get rid of the scientist, call their employer, and let the clean-up crew come in and deal with the rest. The first two hits had gone off without a hitch. So, of course, it just figures that last one would have to be so much more complicated than it should have been.

“I—I—I w-want m-m-my d-da—daddy.”

Viktor’s jaw clenches as he exhales – slow and even, two thin streams of smoke – as he reloads the gun in hand and wills himself to remain calm. His patience is wearing thin at this point, though. He had not planned for going into this as usual and coming out as a babysitter. The target’s five-year-old daughter was not supposed to be in the house at the time of the hit. She only stayed with him on the weekends. What an absolutely brilliant turn of events that this was apparently the first Monday that she had ever spent with her father.

Dropping his half-smoked cigarette on the floor, he shoves himself up to his feet. He had lost contact with Miguel some time earlier, likely as a result of the scientist’s neighbor backing into an electric pole at full speed after one of the zombies had rushed her car. The impact had cut power to the entire neighborhood and he can only assume that it must be the cause of the interference. With long-range communication down, that leaves only one alternative: he needs to get within the functional range of their radios. Unfortunately, the hit had been planned for the late evening and he had only been able to make it as far as a vacant apartment building a couple blocks away before night had started to set. From here, short-wave does him about as much good as a water pistol.

“Come on.” Viktor has already reached the door and taken quick stock of the corridor beyond by the time he bothers to look back. Unsurprisingly, his unwanted charge remains unmoved, still curled up as small as she can possibly make herself, which is pretty damned small.

“A-are you g-g-gonna take me b-back to da-daddy?”

God give him strength but that stuttering is getting real old real quick. “Ne.” He swings the door open as quietly as possible and waits for a moment, listening for any movement outside, before carefully stepping out and making his way to the stairwell. With the knowledge that their escape route is currently free of hostiles, he takes a deep, centering breath and heads back to where he began.

“Look, holčička.” He crouches down in front of the child and tries to sound as reasonable as possible. Given his current level of frustration, he thinks that he is doing a fairly decent job. Miguel, however, would likely disagree. “Either you just come with me and go wherever I go, quietly and without complaint, or I leave you here. Your choice.” Yeah, Miguel would definitely disagree.

From the way that the little girl’s eyes go so much wider than he would have ever imagined possible, he feels safe in assuming that she disagrees as well and, five minutes later, they are creeping down an alleyway with more stealth than Viktor ever would have expected of a kindergartener.

---

What was taking so long?

That is the question that had led Alex out of the band’s bus and that was the question that he now wants to keep from crossing anyone else’s minds. This is all way too fucked up, like the should not be real kind of fucked up. None of this should be happening.

On the ground, backed up against the flat tire of the car that their driver had originally gone to help, Alex kicks hard into the jaw of what may have once been a perfectly lovely young woman and sends her sprawling backward where she lands on top of the monster still gnawing on the corpse of a man who should have still been living and breathing and driving their goddamn bus. Alex’s hand gropes around behind him for anything even remotely useful as a weapon and lands on the tire-iron just in time to smash it into the face of the dead woman once more lunging in his direction. Another strike as she tries to get up and he cringes and almost loses his lunch at the feeling of her skull cracking open and her brain splattering across the pavement. Hell, he really might have lost it if not for the howl coming at him far too fast. This time, he opts not to look as the hears the wet crunch and just leaps to his feet and starts running back toward relative safety.

“Alex?”

Oh fuck. “Stay on the bus, Val!”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Niccols! What the fuck is going—”

Alex fails to hear the rest as he spins around to slam the tire-iron as hard as he can into something else behind him. This time it gets yanked right out of his hand as the body drops and he scrambles back onto the bus, practically picking up a protesting Val in order to get her out of the way of the door that he immediately slams closed. He lets her go as he collapses into the driver’s seat, wide-eyed and hands shaking, and it takes him a moment to register the sound of his dog whimpering by his knee, let alone that of his own name. When the world comes back into focus, though, Val is staring at him in horror. It takes him another moment to realize why.

“Alex? What the fuck happened?” Whether she sounds more panicked or angry, Alex is far too dazed to tell. Her hands reach for his face, his shoulders, moving down to check every inch. “Are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, he raises a hand to wipe at his face. No. No he is not okay. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Val does not look like she believes him at all. “Is that—Fuck. That—That’s blood! Why the fuck are you covered in blood?”

Breathe, Alex. Always a good plan to breathe. “Shh. Don’t…” Never mind. Telling her to keep it quiet is pointless. Everybody else will have heard it already.

He shoves himself back to his feet, legs weak and wobbly, and stumbles as he makes his way through the curtain that separates the cabin from the rest of the bus. It is instantly evident that the rest of the band did, in fact, hear all of that. All three of them are already staring at him before he even properly steps into view. He is pretty sure that Sasha is the one choke out an “on shit” and it is definitely Macy whose response comes out as barely a squeak.

“Blood?” On his feet now, Macy rushes in to cling to Alex’s shirt, bodily fluids not withstanding. “None of it’s yours, right? You’re not hurt? You’re okay?”

Again, Alex reminds himself to breathe, turning just enough so that he can see where Val still stands in the doorway, Parker lying on the floor a foot or so behind her, his ears back and expression scared. For her part, Val is gripping the doorway so tightly that Alex can only assume that she is trying very hard not move and crowd him any further.

“None of it’s mine.” He looks at the faces around him, all of them staring, all confused and various degrees of frightened. It brings everything right back into focus. “We need to—” It takes a deep breath in and a slow breath out to get his thoughts back in line. “Everybody grab a bag, pack food, necessities, just—just whatever.” Stepping a little closer to Val, just near enough to pull one of her hands down from the wall and give it a quick squeeze. “We gotta get outta here.”

---

Nate leans out of the passenger side window just far enough to level his sights on one of the creatures that already looks less human and fires. One shot, between the eyes, and it hits the ground and disappears beneath the feet of its companions. He hears a quiet gagging sound come from the driver’s seat and finds himself feeling a bit queasy in turn. They are both going to need to make some real changes to their perspective re: what constitutes a monster and they need to make those changes really quickly because as of right now, it is going to be really difficult to get out of this mess without completely rewiring their conscience.

“Um, Nate?”

With barely a glance spared toward Dennis, Nate focuses himself on reloading. “Yeah?”

“How many, uh—how many of them are back there?”

The question gives him pause but Nate squints to get a count anyway. “About a dozen in view. Why?”

“Because we need to, uh—we have to stop for a minute.”

Nate drops back into his seat so quickly that he nearly smacks his head off the door. “We what?”

Not even bothering to look at him, Dennis simply peels one shaking hand off of the steering wheel to point at something ahead. “We have to stop.”

Nate has to squint but he starts moving the moment that he sees exactly what Dennis is looking at. “I’ve got the door.”

It was rather obvious even from a single glance at a decent distance that the man up ahead, standing stock still in his torn slacks and a blood, rolled shirt-sleeves, was staring straight past the car speeding toward him and cursing the sight of the ever-growing number of zombies trailing behind. Dennis hits the gas and is slamming the breaks in what feels like no time.

Nate shoves the back door open and feels like there is really no room for argument when he shouts to the man to get in but he has been wrong before and apparently he is right now. Instead of heading straight for them, the guy curses in a language that they are now close enough for Nate to tell is definitely not English and turns away.

“Hey!” Dennis spins in his seat to look behind them, which Nate is sure that he immediately regrets. “What the hell? What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. He’s just—” And that is when the stranger pulls his gun, takes out three approaching zombies in relatively rapid succession, and finally turns to sprint back toward the car. “—getting a little girl.”

The child is practically flung into the back seat and their new passenger wastes no time slamming the door behind himself and snapping, “Go. Now.”

Dennis really does not need to be told and floors it the second he knows the door is closed.

“Take a left onto Carver,” the man continues, his tone speaking volumes regarding how unwilling he would be to hear any question or protest. “Follow signs for the mall plaza.” He leans out the window to pick off a few more of the monsters before Nate’s slightly incredulous look catches his attention and his scowl is honestly pretty terrifying. “You’ll be out of gas before the edge of town so, under the assumption that you wish to live—”

Nate’s eyes narrow in suspicion but Dennis has absolutely no qualms against following the orders of anyone with a plan right now and practically takes the aforementioned turn on two wheels when he nearly misses it.

---

“Are you sure you can hotwire this piece of shit?”

“It’s not a piece of shit, it’s a fucking classic.”

Val rolls her eyes at that as she continues trying to calm the utterly panicked Macy currently clinging to her so tightly that he might as well just climb into her goddamn skin. “Fine. Can you really hotwire this ‘fucking classic’?”

Two seconds later, the engine revs up as Alex sits back in the driver’s seat with a trin and a waggle of his stupid eyebrows. Sasha squeals in relief and flings her arms around him from her place in the back seat, as he laughs. “My mechanical genius is wasted on this red wire green wire bullshit.”

He pops the trunk just as something begins to stir inside of the nearby diner and Val shoves Sasha aside to squeeze Macy in so that she can help Nico load their bags at record speed. By the time she flings herself into the front passenger seat, there are already zombies starting to stumble out of the woodwork. Fuck seatbelts. “Gun it!”

Alex hits the gas and they peel out of the parking lot just as the diner’s doors give way.

He had tried to explain what had happened while they packed. It had felt impossible for Val to actually wrap her mind around it at first but once she had seen the mess outside? She had practically dragged Alex and Macy off in search of the nearest source of potential transportation. They needed to find something quickly and it needed to be something fast and she needed to not think about how painfully familiar the blood and gore looked, though she had only ever seen anything like it in her nightmares. When Alex had needed to stop and vomit into the nearest garbage can, she had a feeling that she understood why and a little pocket of rage flared to life in her chest – not because he had to stop but because he never should have been the one to wind up with someone else’s blood on his hands.

“Where are we going?” Macy is the one to finally ask, almost inaudible from where he has curled up against Sasha now, and Val catches his eye in the rearview mirror before she looks toward Alex.

Alex, however, is entirely too focused on driving to really think but so much and instead catches her eye before clearing his throat. “Nick?”

In the back, Nico turns away from the horrors outside of his window. “What?”

“How do you defend yourself against a zombie invasion?”

“Wha—Zombies aren’t exactly my specialty here.”

“No,” Alex agrees, “but zombies are supposed to be a helluva lot dumber than, say, Reavers, right? You know Reavers.”

“So?”

“So how would you defend yourself against an invasion of retarded Reavers?”

The drummer just stares at him for a moment with an expression that plainly says that he may consider that to be the dumbest question that he has ever heard. Eventually, thought, there is an answer. “I’d find the most well-stocked, easily-fortifiable location I could think of and hope I could wait out the attack or find some other way to get through them.”

There is silence in the car and then Alex shrugs. “All right. So, where’s the most well-stocked and easily-fortifiable location we can think of?

Five minutes later, they find themselves screeching into the parking lot of the local mall. The location almost seems somehow normal, given the situation at hand. In fact, were it not for the shrieking horde behind them or the knowledge that Alex is currently doing seventy into a public lot, it might almost feel a little reminiscent of home. Val almost finds it funny, really. What’s funnier to her than coming to a mall for safety, however, is the fact that they were obviously not the only ones with that idea, as they are definitely not the only ones pulling into the place with a bunch of undead goons straggling along behind them.

---

“Miguel.”

There is a burst of static in his ear as Viktor leans out to empty his 22 into the crowd of creatures still chasing behind the car that had picked him up on the highway. Once within range, he takes out a couple of the ones latching on to the other car that had pulled in to the lot at about the same time, too. When his magazine clicks empty, he makes a snap decision to save his 20 for later and drops back into the seat to reload. The driver glances at him in the rearview, looking a little bit frightened, while the original passenger only eyes him for a moment before leaning out of the other side with a freshly loaded shotgun. His fellow gunner might not be terribly trusting but at least Viktor can respect that. Besides, who needs trust? The guy’s a fairly good shot.

“Zatratím tě, Miguel!” The little girl still curled up beside him whimpers. He can hear it over the gunfire, the static, all of the goddamned zombies. It is grating on his very last nerve. “Odpovídáš mě!”

He could hope for no better response than to lean back out just in time to watch as a line of four hostiles drops one by one.

“En ingles, ’mano.” Another line of undead hit the ground as the line sputters out then clears up again, leaving room for easily the most welcome voice he has ever known. “Now where the Hell have you been?”

Viktor nearly laughs. “We can trade stories later, miláčku. Right now, I need cover fire while I try to get these people into the posraný mall.”

“Going shopping?”

“Sklapni. We try the mall or they come to your shop.”

“How many?”

Viktor glances toward the other vehicle still circling around the parking lot with them. “Eight plus me.”

“Well, if they dropped you—”

“Miguel.”

“Sí, sí, the mall sounds like a plan. There’s a garage off to your right. No good angle for me to shoot the lock off but I can keep the number of uglies down while you get in.”

“Děkuji.”

“That means thank you, sí?”

Viktor rolls his eyes. “Sí.”

The line bursts back into static with a laugh.

---

As it turns out, the garage door does not, in fact, require a shot to the lock. It rolls up just enough for the two cars to through before Dennis’s little hatchback even hits the ramp. On the other side, a young woman motions for them to hurry while two men in security uniforms stand to either side of the entrance to help keep the monsters at bay, though it appears that this Miguel guy really only needs the most basic of assistance. His precision is honestly kind of terrifying and Dennis is just as glad not to see any more examples of it as he swerves off to one side so that the other car has room. Nate and their scarier passenger are both out before he even has the damned thing in park, seeing to it that nothing gets in the way of girl at the door to slam the thing shut.

“We saw you on the security cameras,” of the security guards explains as he climbs up to try and jam the gears.

The other car’s driver takes a moment to collect himself, then grabs a wrench and makes his way over to the ladder. “Here. Let me have a look at that.”

“Figured we couldn’t just leave you out there.” The guard climbs down to let the driver up. “Then Shannon said she thought you were headed this way.”

“Thanks.” Dennis finally climbs out only to stretch over the top of his car.

The woman now known as Shannon simply smiles. “No problem. Mercy for your fellow man or something like that.” She laughs and shrugs, looking slightly flustered, though that is probably to be expected, all things considered. “Anyway, come on. Let’s get you all inside. We’ve got food, clothes, relatively comfortable furniture… We’ll get you poor things all cleaned up and sorted out in no time.”

There is a general rumble of agreement as the little group follows her to the door that leads into the connected store, allowing themselves to be ushered toward where another girl is waiting somewhat impatiently. That is, they all follow along aside from one man, anyway, who simply mutters something into his headset before switching it off and making his way back over to the hatchback. Shannon looks back, confused, as does Nate, though he looks more suspicious about it.

Dennis just sighs. “The little girl.” Then he ducks through the doorway and drags Nate away after the rest.

---

“Come on, holčička.” Viktor crouches down beside the open car door with a sigh as the child remains curled up in the center of the back seat. Children. How did anyone actually deal with children, let alone have them by choice?

The little girl simply whimpers and mumbles, “There are monsters out there.”

Well, at least the stuttering has stopped and he supposes he can concede that she has a fair point. “The monsters are outside, not with us.”

Before he can receive a response or think of anything more convincing to say, there is someone else coming up behind him, bending down to look the child in the eye with a painfully sympathetic and all too sugarcoated smile. He might be able to handle the sight of it at any other time but right now, with everything that he has just been through and the way that she has the gall to place one of her hands on his shoulder as if—God, he would really like to wipe that smile off of her face.

“Hi, there,” she says, voice floating in a way that speaks plainly of a familiarity with appeasing people under the age of seven. “I’m Shannon. What’s your name?”

Caught slightly off-guard, the child squeaks. “Um. I—I’m—” The little girl shoots a quick glance toward Viktor then, almost as if asking permission to speak with this new stranger before she finally answers. “I’m Amanda.”

Shannon’s smile becomes even brighter, even sweeter, if that is even possible, and Viktor has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from taking out her kneecaps when she leans even further over him, hand squeezing his shoulder. “Amanda? Well, that’s a pretty name! Are you hungry, Amanda?”

The little girl nods.

“Well, we’ve got all sorts of food inside. We’ve got toys, too, and games and books and all sorts of neat stuff.”

“And—and no monsters?”

Shannon laughs. “And no monsters.”

Still curled up in the seat, Amanda chews worriedly at her lip for a moment longer, eyes flashing back and forth between the two adults still there in the door. Shannon keeps smiling, encouraging. Viktor just stays crouched there with a clenched jaw and a headache starting to build behind his eyes. When the girl finally moves, though, it does not go entirely as expected. Rather than reaching for Shannon’s offered hand, she instead launches herself forward to wrap her little arms tight around Viktor’s neck and duck her head in under his chin, completely unaware of the rather undignified look of surprise that he is entirely unable to keep off of his face. Unhelpfully, all Shannon does in response is giggle.

#otto writes #original characters #zombies #violence #lol wut #writing: after infection

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