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thebestofoneshots · 6 months

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Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.9 K Warnings: None Prompt: It's finally time... the Quidditch Match. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 19: Silver Bird

When you come home, my crazy heart will greet those silver wings Your pet dog will remember you, and I'll carry your things We'll catch a runnin' make-up, and you will look just fine And you'll remain my friend, my friend until you're mine

It was finally Saturday, James had you arrive at the pitch an hour and a half before the match was going to start, so you could warm up properly. You still had thirty minutes to get there, and you were rummaging through your neverending chest to try and find the stupid blue undies you’d promised to wear.

“Is it this ones?” Mary asked, as she sat next to you.

You looked at the piece she had in her hand and you shook your head, “Those aren’t very comfortable for flying.”

She nodded and continued looking through the chest. Lily, who was looking through your dresser asked “You said cute, baby blue, matching set, right?”

“Yeah,” you responded, not looking at her yet.

“I think I’ve got them.” She said, taking the pair out and showing it to you. You beamed and got up from the floor towards her, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead “It’s perfect, thank you!” you said as you took them from her hands and went inside the bathroom.

“That was a very Sirius thing to do,” said Marlene from her bed as she laced her shoes.

Mary agreed “Sometimes they’re so alike it’s scary.”

“I don’t think so,” said Lily, with a hand on her chin. “She’s not that much like Sirius, if anything I’d say she’s more like Remus.”

“Remus? How?” Asked Beth, she had dropped by to get ready with the girls, they were all planning to use some coloured paint on their faces, along all the Gryffindor memorabilia they had gathered.

“Well, she’s responsible and caring. And she always helps everyone in the study clubs. And even if she hangs out with the boys all the time, she’s never gotten detention. Remus almost never gets detention either. They both know their way around it, somehow.”

“Well, when you say it like that…”

Finally, the door of the bathroom opened and you walked outside, your thick quidditch pants on, along with a simple shirt you were planning to wear underneath your quidditch sweater. You looked out the window, it was getting greyer and grayer “You think it’s gonna rain?” you asked.

“On the forecast, it said it wouldn’t,” said Beth, who had revised it on the papers at breakfast.

“But the current climate divintor is really bad,” complained Marlene “The other day I planned a picnic with Holden, and it said it would be sunny. We were in the middle of the way to the spot we’d found when a storm broke out, we had to use charms to stop the rain from ruining our day.”

“Better take the anti-slippery gloves then,” Beth said, as she picked out a pair from the ones you had laid out on the bed, “just in case.”

You nodded, and took them in your hands, before placing them on the small duffle bag in which you were packing the rest of your equipment. Including the Quidditch robes and anything other than the sweater and the pants. “You’ve already eaten right?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, like 2 hours ago,” you said with a nod “I wanted enough time to digest before flying.

“Brilliant idea!” she said with a smile “Last time Marlene ate last minute she was puking when the game ended.

“That’s because I got a bludger on the edge my broom and spinned around like 30 times,” she huffed, and then turned to you “Ready for your first game luv?”

“Born ready,” you said, with a little smirk.

Marlene mirrored your expression, “That’s exactly what I expected to hear.”

Once in the pitch, you spotted James and Teddy talking to each other, Davis and Gale were sitting on a bench, and you weren’t sure where Sirius was, that was until you felt someone hugged you from behind and planted a kiss on your cheek “You look stunning in those clothes Starshine,” he said as he tightened his grip around your waist.

Sirius was still hugging you when James asked everyone to gather closer to him. And he didn’t let go of you even as James spoke “This is the first match of the year, and we must give it our all! Ravenclaw has a fierce team, Holden is a brilliant seeker, Tobias and Penelope are fierce with the bludgers, they will try to hit every single one of us, and even if we have Sirius and Marlene to protect us, you need to keep an eye on the bludgers at all time. Especially you,” he said, giving you a look “They will try to throw you off your broom.”

You nodded as you took a deep breath, the seekers and the keepers always got the worst of the bludgers, you knew that already, but the seekers had a wider moving area, while as a keeper, you’d have to stay closer to the goals “I’ll have your back,” Sirius whispered in your ear as James continued his speech.

“Their chasers are good, I don’t know much of the newer kids but Adrian is fast, not as fast as you Gale, but fast regardless, keep an eye on him at all times, the further we keep their ball from our goals the better, even if we have (Y/N).”

Teddy intervened later “Just pay full attention to your surroundings at all times, we can beat them, we’ve trained enough.”

“Time for warm-up,” James said then, and had you do a couple of exercises before allowing you to go up in your brooms for a few laps around the pitch.

When you had 10 minutes left, James had you all come down to fasten all the quidditch protection equipment accordingly. He handed you a bag, with a thick brown helmet and a chest plate as well. “I forgot the keeper’s equipment was some of the less glamorous,” you said as you looked at them, he laughed.

“You know how to put it on, don’t you?”

You nodded, and dragged the items to the side, starting with the shin and knee protectors and slowly moving your way up to the chest.

Sirius, who had a lot less things to put on, was done before you and he walked closer to you “Need help?”

“I’m good,” you said as you continued fastening your arm protections. When you put on the breast protector, you started struggling with the fastening, and Sirius closed the gap between the two of you.

“Let me,” he said, his hands over yours, fastening the sides of the thing with ease “It’s that too tight?”

You shook your head, still grasping the fact that you weren’t alone anymore, that you could depend on him, on your new friends. You grabbed the helmet and turned to him “How do I look now?” you asked with a teasing smile, the helmet still held between your hands.

Sirius smirked before he answered “Ravishing.”

You laughed, tilting your head back as you let yourself completely indulge in the fun. Sirius was looking at you adoringly as you tittered, at the way your eyes would crinkle and your smile grew wide. He stared, shamelessly, until he heard someone calling for you from the side, he placed his hand over your shoulder and nodded to their way. You were still smiling when you turned to look at the direction Sirius was pointing at, it was Nina and Sybil.

“Hey, girls!” You said as you approached them happily, almost skipping towards them, Nina had a Gryffindor scarf on and Sybil was holding a pair of red and yellow flags in her hands “You’ll get jinxed by your house members,” you told them motioning to the Gryffindor memorabilia they had on.

“We’re not really close to the players,” Sbybil said with a shrug, of course she wouldn’t care.

“But we do know you.” Nina said with a smile “We brought you something,” she added before bringing her hand inside the messenger bag she had hung across her shoulder and taking out a blue ribbon. Something blue.

“For me?” You asked with a small smile.

“So you remember not all Ravenclaws are against you today,” Nina said. “Sybil says it’s for good luck too.”

“It is,” Sybil confirmed. “Why do you think ladies used to tie something on the lances of the men they liked before a joust? If a person who really cares about you gives it to you, it will be infused with a special kind of magic.”

“Well then, you may tie it wherever you want,” You said with a smile, walking a little closer to the girls, Nina was the one to attach it, lacing it through the thinner side of the chest protection you had on, carefully tying it into a neat little bow.

“I feel like I should say something…” she said with a little smile, you nodded, prompting her to speak “Oh fair lady,” she stated, in a very theatrical tone, even faking a strong Scottish accent “May this token of…”

“–Of affection,” offered Sybil.

“Of affection?” Nina asked with a frown, turning back to her natural voice. Sybil nodded fervently and Nina shrugged, clearing her throat before continuing “May this token of our… devoted affection… deliver you from all evil and take you to victory…” She turned to Sybil, who gave her a thumbs up, and finally, she pulled her hands from your chestplate, a little blush showing on her face.

You smiled, and leaned a little, “Thank you, my lady,” you said in the tone a true knight would, and then looked up at the two girls with a cheeky grin, still mid bow.

You got a soft punch from Nina on the arm “Don’t make it even sillier.”

“I’m not being silly!” you said in between laughs “I’m truly happy you came to support me today.”

Sirius finally came over and placed an arm over your shoulder, bringing you a little closer to him “Can you believe our little Starshine just got a lady’s favour?” He asked James, who was just a couple of metres behind “When have we ever gotten one of those? And from a pair of Ravenclaws nonetheless.”

“It’s for good luck,” Nina said reproachfully. “It’s her first match, don’t tease her so much about it.”

“It’s all right Nina,” you said with a cheeky little smile “Sirius is just jealous.”

He pouted, “Can’t I get a cute ribbon too?”

“Has to be given by someone who really cares about you,” Nina said casually.

“Auch,” Sirius said dramatically.

Nina opened her eyes wide “I didn’t mean that I didn’t ca…”

“He’s just teasing you luv,” you said reassuringly. “Here, lean a little closer,” you told Sirius, when he did, you placed a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. “How’s that for your lady’s favour?” you asked with a teasing grin. Nina averted her gaze from the two of you and Sybil gave her a sympathetic glance.

“Hm… Not sure,” Sirius responded “Might need it to be a little longer, for good measure, you know?”

Finally, Sybil cleared her throat “We’ll go find a good place to sit,” she said with a smile.

“Good luck!” Nina told you with a tight smile before turning to go.

You walked out of Sirius’ grasp and towards her and Sybil “Girls wait!” you said as you grabbed onto Nina’s shoulder “Thank you,” you said earnestly, “for everything.”

Nina smiled, seeing as how you had run to catch her “It’s nothing, really. We wanted to be here.”

“Yeah,” Sybil said, “You do your magic, we’ll be here, rooting for you.”

You smiled at the two of them one last time and they took off towards the bleachers. “Ready for the match?” Remus’ soft voice came from behind, startling you in a good way.

You turned to him and nodded “James had us warm up and even gave us a team spirit speech. It was inspiring.”

Remus caught the slight sarcasm in your tone and chuckled “You’ll be wearing that?” he asked as he motioned to your helmet still in your hand.

You nodded “Keepers are one of the main targets of the bludgers. James wouldn’t let me play without it. Merlin forbid something happens to one of his players,” he chuckled again, leaning down just a little to take the helmet from your hands and place it over your head “What are you doing?”

“Making sure James’ little star-keeper is as safe as she should,” He said casually as he fastened the straps under your chin.

“I was waiting until the very last minute to put it on…”

“Why? You get too hot with it?”

“Not at all, I just think I look like an egg,” you said with a pout.

Remus stepped back just a little, too look at you better “Well, I think you look cute.”

You laughed, and hit him on the shoulder playfully “Sure thing Rem,” you said dismissively, then you heard the blow of the whistle. “Game’s calling,” you said with a dashing smile before walking back to the pitch, Remus stared at your receding figure as you walked towards the pitch.

As you gathered around everyone you managed to see the rest of your friends walking over the bleachers to find a seat. Tom was wearing face paint, just like the rest of the girls, a few stripes of red and gold painted across their cheek. Lily had a banner in her hand that had a fierce-looking lion roaring, and it had written down the names of all the members of the team. Some other people in the crowd had reused the memorabilia from the race, so you even saw a couple of people wearing some of the pins with your faces on them.

Another blow to the whistle and you were walking alongside James to the centre of the pitch. “Captains, step forward!” Said a young Professor you hadn’t met before, but that you’d seen around meals, he must be the flying instructor, you thought. Both James and Lionel did as told, he turned to Lionel “Ready?”

“Ready!”

He turned to James and the boy responded “Ready!”

The teacher nodded, and then gave you a look “Keepers, positions,” he said. Both you and Lionel mounted your brooms and flew toward your places. The wind howled in your ears as you hovered in front of the goals. It was a cold day, and you were thankful you had so much protection gear on since it was enough to keep you a little warm, at least until the action started.

You saw the Professor release the snitch, you could see it glistening with the bit of sun that the clouds allowed to pass through, it circled around James and Holden, taunting them before disappearing into the air. Everyone mounted their brooms. The crowd cheered as the game was just about to start. The atmosphere felt electric and thrilling, the wind pushing you towards your hoops as you steadied your broom to maintain your position.

The Chasers jockeyed for position, determined to outmanoeuvre each other and score those crucial goals. Gale, Davis and Teddy were already in the position they had planned, and the three of them kept their sights on the quaffle that the Professor still held in between his hands. Sirius was flying close to James, while Marlene was flying just above you, ready to stop any bludgers coming your way, as James had instructed.

Marlene tightened her grip on her bat, and with another blow of the whistle the game finally began, the Quaffle soaring into the air in an instant. Gale flew straight to it, managing to size it in the air, and flew straight towards the other team’s goal. But after Sirius hit the bludger towards Lionel, Penelope Linwood, the other team’s beater, shot it straight at Gale, who had to pass the quaffle to Davis to out-manoeuvre the bludger that wouldn’t stop following him.

Davis took the ball and went for a shot, but Lionel managed to catch it just before it went inside the goal hoop to his left. The ball was with the other team, your heart pounded in your ears as adrenaline rushed through your body, you knew the quaffle could be thrown your way any minute now, so whatever you did, you had to focus. You felt the wind blowing even stronger, your broom moving with it a little more than you’d expect it to.

Sirius managed to catch up with Davis and batted the bludger away from him, launching straight towards the chasers of the other team, disrupting their formation and buying you some time. The way they were flying, one against the other, they were probably planning to corner you in between the three of them. One of them, a boy with short red hair, who flew like a lightning bolt to avoid Sirius’ bludger –and who you assumed was Adrian– was dogging absolutely everything and everyone as he flew straight at you.

You smiled confidently when you saw him throw a short glance at one of his chasers, a small girl with neat braids through her entire head. It was Cynthia, you realised, from one of your classes. They were going to faint. So even as you kept your head in Adrian’s direction, you made sure to keep Cynthia in your line of sight at all times. You saw the other bludger be beaten in your direction.

“Focus on your thing!” Marlene shouted, flying straight towards the bludger and batting it fiercely to Adrian, but he managed to dodge the ball and it started following the other chaser instead. The redhead was already reaching the zone, his move would be any second now. He smiled, pretending to throw the ball to the left hoop before throwing it straight to Cynthia. That had been a sick faint, but you had seen it coming, so you didn’t even bother going to the left and instead went straight to the direction Cynthia had thrown the ball, efficiently getting it in between your hands before it even got close to the goals. The audience cheered as you flew a little higher, trying to find Anne Davis. If she got the ball now, you were sure she’d get it across the field and through Lionel.

Once you spotted her, you plunged down and launched the ball at her when she was just a couple of metres away, continuing your way down before doing a sharp turn and going back to your goals. When the ball was in her hands she started dogging the bludgers, that seemed like they were only following her until Marlene flew straight towards one of them and threw it to Lionel.

Davis had to shoot the ball to Teddy for a second but he threw it straight back at her and she launched it toward the goal, Lionel wasn’t fast enough to stop it, and it went straight through. The crowd erupted in cheers. Anne was grinning as she went back to position. As everyone cheered you felt a strong jolt in your broom. You frowned and looked down, studying the broom as you steadied it. You squint your eyes when you feel it again, a lot weaker this time. You turned to the bleachers then, narrowing your eyes in case you spotted someone. The jolt had felt exactly like the one that had thrown you and Sirius off your brooms a couple of weeks ago. You took a deep breath and tightened your grip around your broom. I’m not falling today, you thought before turning your eyes back to the quaffle.

The jolts didn’t come back, as if the person trying to throw you off the broom had given up on them completely, but your grip on the broom did not loosen at all, you had to keep your ward up, at all times now. The quaffle was now in Cynthia's hand, and she had thrown it to a strong-looking boy with a blonde fringe, their last chaser. He came straight to you, looking imposing since he was a lot bigger, perhaps as tall as Remus, but with a wider back, which made him look threatening.

Thank Merlin he’s not a beater, you thought. He came straight onto you, paying no mind to the bludger following closely behind him. You did not keep your eyes away from him until you felt a light hitting straight onto your eyes, blinding you from how bright it was. The blond boy did his shot and you weren’t fast enough, it went right through your right goal, there were cheers from the Ravenclaws, and groans from the Gryffindors.

You went to get the ball and threw it straight at Teddy, who moved further away with it. And you took the time to look around the bleachers, trying to figure out what the hell had blinded you when the light hit you again. You placed your left hand over your eye only to realise a very small dot of light reflecting on it, moving frantically trying to find your eyes again. “A mirror,” you whispered to yourself, “They’re trying to use a bloody mirror.” You then remembered you had Sirius’ goggles, and placed them over your eyes, hoping the sun protection spell they had on them was enough. They were indeed! Just reflective enough to bounce the light off your eyes. You smiled, whoever was trying to sabotage you, and you had a pretty damn good idea who it might have been, would have a bloody hard time doing so.

Finally managing to focus on the game again, you noticed Sirius throw a hard shot towards the blonde boy, managing to hit just on the back of his broom and having him spinning out for a good minute before he managed to get back control.

“Brilliant Black!” you shouted from your spot, not so far away from him. He gave you a little wink, boasting for a good second before ducking as one of the other team’s beaters had thrown the bludger straight back at him. That made you chuckle just a bit, before you saw the same blond boy, doing a daring dive towards you and your goals. This time, when he shot, you managed to stop the quaffle with ease, even if the strength of the hit had you pull back just a little, the impact reverberating through your body as you held on tight. You heard the Gryffindor supporters erupting into cheers, and you felt the same euphoric feeling you felt when you caught a snitch and ended a game back in your old school. With a graceful smile towards them, you sent the quaffle hurtling back into the game.

But Cynthia Abbot intercepted your throw and launched the ball straight onto your goals again. You threw yourself towards the quaffle again, but realising your hand wouldn’t be long enough to stop it, you did a sharp turn and used the back of your broom to bat the ball away from the hoops, accidentally sending it straight towards James’ head, who wasn’t looking. “Prongs! Watch out–“ you tried to warn him but it bounced off his head and Davis managed to size it, diving straight towards Lionel and the Ravenclaw post.

You flew closer to James, still keeping an eye on the quaffle as you did “You ok?” you asked preoccupied “I didn’t mean to–“

“-That was a brilliant save!” He said, turning to you with a smile, “Hurt a little though.”

You winced when you realised the boy was rubbing the back of his head, “Sorry…”

“I’m good, you keep up that amazing work going, don’t worry about me, all right?”

“Suddenly you saw a gold shine pass right in front of your eyes, and you followed it with a short gaze, before turning back to James “Did you see th–“ You didn’t even finish, you knew the answer when you spotted James’ wide grin and his hazel pupils following the snitch with precise movement, “Go get her tiger!” You said as he started flying in its direction.

“Back to your goals,” he said with a smile before flying off towards the snitch. You smiled as you saw him chase behind it, and flew back to your place, the Quaffle was still on your team’s hands, so you were relatively relaxed as you kept your eyes on James, who darted through the air, waving and looping through the players, dodging bludgers and following the snitch’s every move. Holden wasn’t too far behind him, but Marlene and Sirius were making sure he had many flying bludgers to dodge, both also protecting James, so he could reach for the snitch. You admired the way Marlene threw the iron balls at her boyfriend as if he was just some random seeker she had to throw off her broom.

Suddenly the ball was back with the chasers of the other team, Adrian darting towards you while one of the beaters from the other team batted a bludger straight to your face. You knew exactly what you had to do, James hadn’t had you practise handstands and pull-ups so much for nothing, so you went straight for it. Holding yourself up to allow the bludger to pass through as you hit the bludger with your leg, flipping yourself back into your broom with a sharp turn. The crowd cheered again, many had heard of the movement, but they hadn’t seen it, but that wasn’t the end, you dived straight down to catch the quaffle and flew straight towards Gale, passing it on his hands in a quick manoeuvre before flying back to the goals.

Gale, in turn, went straight to Lionel and shot, earning another 10 points for Gryffindor, which had the crowd of Gryffindor supporters standing on their feet as they cheered on for Gale, even you joined them, screaming “Thomas! Thomas! Thomas!” with one of your arms extended out in a triumphant first. He turned to you with a little smile, it was his first goal since he joined the team, he must have been feeling ecstatic, as much as you were whenever you stopped one of the Ravenclaw’s advances.

Time seemed to blur as the match continued, each passing second a testament to your teamwork and determination. The score remained close, both your team and the Ravenclaw had a hard time scoring. Aldrige had been a keeper since 4th grade, so it wasn’t surprising he was such a brilliant player. Which is why you felt a little triumphant at the fact you had stopped more of the balls shot your way than he had. Even if the blonde keeper had probably hurt your left index finger from how hard they had shot the ball one time. You had only cursed under your breath and shot the ball back to Teddy.

Sirius had seen it, and flew your way “You alright luv?” he asked, a little frown on his face.

“Sirius!” you screamed “Behind you.” The boy turned around sharply and barely managed to bat the bludger away from his face “Focus on your bludgers, not on me!” you told him sharply.

He gave you one last look before nodding and flying towards the bludgers. You took a deep breath, yes, it was nice to see him so worried for you, but he could’ve gotten hurt had you not been keeping an eye around you and drowned yourself in the stupid blue of his eyes, which wasn’t hard with the way he had stared at you. James was right, it was better to keep Marlene as your main defender instead.

Cynthia orchestrated a swift series of passes, bringing her team within striking distance of Gryffindor's goalposts. Your heart raced as you braced yourself for the impending shot, a deep breath as you focused your gaze on the ball and their faces, attempting to decipher exactly what it was they were going to do. And then she shot, sending the quaffle towards the hoop that was the farthest from your reach. You lunged yourself towards it, your fingertips barely grazing the smooth surface of the ball. You heard the crowd gasp, and then erupt in cheers as the ball ricocheted off your fingers and veered off course, missing the hoop by inches. When you realised you had managed to stop it, you were breathing heavily, and gripping onto your broom again, a lot tighter than you thought you were. Realising only after that you had almost fallen off your broom when you veered the quaffle odd course.

The final minutes of the match were a whirlwind of adrenaline and emotion. The Seekers soared, the Chasers battled, and the Beaters continued their relentless bludger assault. Every save, every pass, every point earned or lost had the crowd on the edge of their seats.

Marlene was hovering close to you as Sirius struggled to keep the bludgers away from James, and as soon as the quaffle was in your team’s hands, you flew closer to her “Go help Sirius!” you shouted.

“But I’m supposed to defend you!” she argued.

“Leave it, I can dodge, just make sure Prong’s fine so he can get the snitch!”

Marlene looked at you apprehensively, as if she was deciding whether it was a good or a bad idea “Trust me, Mars, I can handle them. They’re all over Potter anyway!”

She took one last glance at you and dove straight to James and Sirius, beating the bludger they had off course and towards Lionel. He managed to dodge by a millisecond and looked shocked when he realised he too had been left alone in the goals. The four beaters were all over the seekers, defending their own house and trying to throw the opponent off his broom.

The redhead chaser came at you again, the quaffle in his hand, one last attempt to score. He was thrilled when he figured Mars was gone and he placed his hand on his mouth, whistling effortlessly, one of the Ravenclaw beaters turned around and batted the bludger straight at you. At the same time, Adrian threw the quaffle in the same direction.

You tried to look at the score, but you were still way below the safe line. If Holden got the snitch, which you hoped wouldn’t happen, your team would lose. So you didn’t move, ready to take the hit of both the bludger and the quaffle at the same time. And you did, catching the quaffle first and using it as a shield to loosen the punch of the bludger, but the blow had been heavy, and even as you tried to stop it, the bludger’s momentum caused the quaffle to sink into your gut with such force that it not only took your breath away but pushed you back a few feet as well. You heard a choir of “Ooos” and “Ouches” from the audience, and you coughed a couple of times, using the same quaffle to throw the bludger towards the other side.

Sirius turned to you, a worried look on his face, James had been too focused on the snitch to notice. But he had the other two beaters on him. “Focus on Potter!” you shouted, however you could, and he hesitantly turned back to James. You were sure it was going to bruise, it had been a harder hit than Barty’s, probably because it had been a bludger the one that pushed the quaffle into your stomach. Panting, you turned around and spotted Teddy just a couple of metres away, an expression of awe on his face, evidently impressed by your display of determination and slightly stupid bravery. You gave him a half smile before throwing the quaffle his way, “Let’s get another 10 points shall we?”

Teddy smiled at you and nodded, catching the quaffle and diving straight to the other side of the field, Gale and Anne easily following behind him and creating a formation, they were going to use one of the plays, and since the other team’s beaters were focused on James, they had the upper hand. A couple of passes and they managed to score.

Then there were cheers from all the Gryffindor supporters, but it wasn’t because of the points they’d just gotten, in fact, high above, at about the same time, James had lunged forwards and wrapped his fingers around the snitch. The game was over, the Gryffindor cheers were so loud, that they made you smile even if you still felt like you wanted to puke, from the stinging pain of the hit.

As you soaked in the cheers of the crowd, you knew that this victory was more than just a game; it was prove of how strong the Gryffindor team was now, how, even if you had so many new members, including yourself, the constant training and early mornings had been of good use. You smiled brightly as you finally managed to land back on the ground, heart still panting as you used your broom to hold yourself up.

Everyone was cheering, you saw the entire team wrap around James, and bring him up in the air as he held the snitch, the crowds still cheering in the background. You finally stood up, smiling as you tried to forget the sharp pain on your stomach and ran towards them, to cheer on. Sirius was the first one to approach you, placing his hands on the sides of your face and scanning it carefully.

“Are you ok?” He asked with a frown.

“Yeah, totally,” you lied with a half smile, but he saw straight through you and pulled you into a hug.

“Please don’t do that again, I wanted to drop the bat and go see what the hell had happened to you because of the way everyone gasped.”

“You didn’t see it?” You asked, pulling back to look straight into his eyes.

He shook his head “When I turned to you, you had the quaffle in your hands and were screaming at me to get behind Prongs again.”

You nodded, “It was just a hard blow, I’m sure people were just being dramatic–“

“–What the hell (Y/N)!” James interrupted. Shit, he knows. “You’re supposed to avoid the Bludgers, not get in their way!”

“Whoever told you, I’m sure they were exaggerating.”

“Lionel Aldrige came over to tell me I had the bravest keeper he’d ever met, that he’d never seen anyone try to stop the goddamned bludger with a quaffle! And that he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to do it himself!” James pretty much shouted.

“Is that what you did?!” Sirius asked, raising his voice at you as well.

“I had to– I had to stop the quaffle somehow.”

“We could afford to lose ten points!”

You shook your head “Not if you hadn’t caught the snitch, we weren’t 160 above them yet!”

“There was no way in hell you had the strength to stop the quaffle with your arms, that’s why we use bats!” Sirius argued then.

“Where the hell was Marlene anyway?” James chimed, pinching his nose.

“Covering for you, I told her to go, you had the beaters all over you, I was free.”

James stared at you in disbelief, “For how long?”

“The beater actually shot from where he was, still trailing behind you, the deacceleration from–“

“What deacceleration? It’s literally an iron ball!” James said, interrupting you again, he was clearly riled up.

“It was reckless!” Sirius said then.

“You can’t do it again!” James added.

“What if it’s all it takes to win a game?”

“I’d rather lose a game than lose a friend!”

You huffed, biting your cheek to avoid saying the retort that came to our mind, how James was being overly dramatic. But it would be useless, it wouldn’t change their minds. “Fine, but let’s just leave this subject behind, we should be celebrating not–“

“Are you ok?” You heard Remus ask from behind “The way the bludger pushed you back almost all the way into the hoops I–“

You sighed, just when you’d gotten James and Sirius off your back, “I’m fine! I’m not some delicate flower that can’t stand the hit of a bludger in the gut!”

“You think we’re worried because you’re a girl?” Remus asked, quick to catch on to why you were being so stubborn about it.

“Is that not it?”

“No, you dumbass! I’d be just as worried if Sirius had gotten hit by a bludger in the gut!”

“You would?” Sirius teased, “That’s so sweet of you Moons.”

You laughed at Sirius’ silly answer, “Fine, maybe it was a dumb thing to–“

“–it was,” Sirius interrupted, emphasising the “was”.

“Whatever, it won’t happen again, case closed, let’s go to the party.”

“Wouldn’t you like to see Madam Pomrey first?” Remus asked.

You shot him a look and walked towards the rest of the team, they were still cheering and celebrating along with their friends.

“She’s so goddamned hot-headed!” Sirius huffed as he stood next to the boys, watching you walk towards Marlene and Lily. You’d probably get a scold from them as well.

“Reminds me of you,” Remus added, looking at Sirius from the side.

Back in the common room, there was music and drinks and somehow even snacks for everyone as they cheered on. When Peter started talking about the things you’d done again, he and Tom had started a motion for you to be carried into the air for a couple of seconds, everyone agreed and you ended up in the air, being shoved up and down a couple of times before they finally let you down. They thought of you as a hero, and you felt like a rockstar. It was something you weren’t used to, but being cheered on by so many people was undoubtedly nice. Even if at some point you had to step away from the crowd and onto a quieter area of the common room, sitting down on the sofa and feeling the pain kick in as the adrenaline started to fade away.

Sirius was next to you a couple of minutes later, placing his arm over your shoulder and dragging you closer to him “With the whole bludger incident, I think I forgot to tell you how freaking amazing you were today on the game,” he said, mouth close to your ear as he spoke, “You barely allowed the Ravenclaws to get any points.”

You leaned into him too, allowing yourself to bask in the warmth he emitted, “You were brilliant too Puppy! No one got hit by bludgers on your watch.”

He turned to you, placing his hand on your waist, but you winced, and he looked at you with a shrug “Does it still hurt?”

You shook your head, not daring to open your mouth, and leaned in to kiss him instead. If it worked to distract him in the restricted section, I’d work to distract him now. But Sirius was hungry today, the adrenaline of the game and the fact that you looked so fucking good in those quidditch pants, had him feeling all sorts of things, so when he kissed back, you could feel the neediness on the kiss.

And he, oblivious to your pain, dug his hands under your sweater and tightened his grip around your waist, pressing his fingers to your warm skin. That had you wince again and he separated from you, his hand still under your shirt.

“It still hurts!” he said accusingly.

“Sirius, I’m fine,” you said, attempting to drag him back into the kiss, but he shook you off.

“I’m gonna lift your sweater, kay?”

“No, I’m–“ He did it anyway, only a little at first, but then a lot more when he realised.

“–Sweetheart, look at this!” he said reproachfully. You looked down, wincing as you saw the various shades of purple and green your stomach had gotten.

“I guess that’s why it hurts…” you muttered, with a little smile, trying to lighten the mood. Sirius just looked at you sternly. “Fine then, just don’t touch that area and then–“

“We’re going to Poppy.”

“But the celebration party.”

“Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me it doesn’t hurt.” You took a deep breath, looking at him and then averting his gaze, “Thought so.”

“I still wanted to make out,” you mumbled under your breath as you let him guide you toward the portrait, his hand neatly wrapped around yours.

“We can make out all you want once Poppy has checked up on you,” he told you, turning back to give you a small wink.

“Where you up to?” you heard Remus’ deep voice from the side.

“Sirius insists on taking me to the infirmary.”

“She has a terrible bruise all over her stomach,” Sirius added what you’d left out.

How did he find out? Remus wondered until it dawned on him. Right, they’re dating.

“It’s not that bad,” you tried to argue, but Sirius threw you another look.

“Mind if I tag along?” He said walking beside the two of you “I need to restock some of my medicine.”

Full moon must be soon, you thought “You don’t even have to ask Rem,” you said as you nodded for him to come along.

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antxlss · 8 months

Text

roadtrip III

pairing: anakin x reader (modern au)

summary: you and anakin settle in and spend your first night at the beach house. things become complicated between you and anakin, while also still having conflicts about padme.

warnings: weed, suggestive comments

words: 3.2k

a/n: i hope everyone is enjoying this series! requests/thoughts are open. much love! <3

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

part 2

As you feel the car slow to a stop, the sudden stop causes you to wake up with a start.

You blink your eyes open, and look around.

You hear the waves of the ocean crashing against the shore, and the seagulls call to each other overhead.

"We're here already?" You yawn.

Anakin smiles, and looks back over at you again.

"Yep, we're at the beach!"

He pauses for a second, and glances ahead to the sun-drenched beach ahead.

He speaks again, sounding slightly more excited.

"So, you ready to have some fun? If we're gonna make our last week together count, I might as well pull out all the stops, right?"

"Well let's at least get into the house first." You laugh.

You head to the trunk and grab your bags while Anakin grabs his and you head to the front door of the small beach house you had rented for the week.

Anakin follows you over to the front door, and takes a look around at the small beach house.

It's a simple one bedroom house, decorated with colourful furniture and vibrant paintings on the walls.

The ocean view is lovely, and the house is cozy enough for you two to share for a week.

"This... isn't too bad."

Anakin glances at you, and takes a step towards the door.

"Guess I'll let you have the only bedroom, I'll just take the couch or something."

"No. I'll take the couch. That's what I planned to do when I was looking at pictures online." You tell him as you sit your bags down.

"Are you kidding me?"

Anakin sounds shocked, and pauses for a moment as he looks at you.

"I refuse to let you sleep on the couch the entire time, it's not fair."

He gestures to the bedroom.

"And besides, I'll be fine, I don't mind."

Anakin speaks in a firm, yet friendly tone, and smiles at you as he glances back at the door.

"There's no way I'm letting you not sleep in the bedroom."

"Let's fight about this later we need to pick up a few groceries for the week." You tell him.

"Fine."

Anakin shakes his head in disapproval, and looks at you for a moment before nodding his head.

"Alright, groceries it is. Let's get what we need, and then we can have fun the rest of the day."

Anakin speaks in a friendly tone, as he opens the front door to the house.

He holds the door open for you.

"Ladies first."

"Wow, such a gentleman." You sarcastically smiled.

You hop in Anakin's truck and head to a small convenience store to pick up some essentials for the week.

You both get into Anakin's truck, and make the short drive to the convenience store.

Anakin parks the truck outside, and you both head inside.

As you shop for groceries together, Anakin's phone vibrates with a new message.

"Huh?"

Anakin pulls his phone out of his pocket, and checks it with a puzzled look on his face.

"Padme just texted me."

You just roll your eyes, too fed up to respond.

Anakin's face softens as he reads the message on his phone.

"It says, 'You busy this week?'"

He pauses for a moment, and glances at you.

"So... she does still care about me."

Anakin laughs, as he pockets his phone once more.

"Well, I guess that's one good thing, right? At least she's still thinking about me."

"I don't know about that." You flatly reply.

Anakin stays silent for a moment, and looks at you with a confused expression on his face.

"What do you mean by that, exactly?"

He sounds slightly hurt, and pauses for a moment.

"Come on, you care about me too, right?"

Anakin looks at you with a pleading expression in his eyes.

"We're, we're friends, right...?"

"Yes Anakin, but I don't want to get into this again, especially in public, but she probably just wants a quick fuck. You are here with me. At the beach. Five hours away from her." You ramble.

You speak without thinking, clearly annoyed at Anakin.

Anakin stays silent for a moment, clearly hurt by your comment.

He's about to speak up, but then stops himself.

He calms himself, and speaks again.

"You're right. I am with you, because you're the most important person in my life right now."

Anakin pauses for a moment, and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what took over me just now. Your comment just caught me off guard, that's all."

"Let's check out."

You push your buggy to the register.

Anakin nods, and follows you to the checkout lane.

As you wait in line, Anakin's phone vibrates again with a new message.

Anakin pulls his phone out of his pocket, and looks at it.

"Wait, what?"

He pauses for a moment, and then speaks with a slightly concerned voice.

"It's from Padme again, and it says, 'You coming'?"

Anakin pauses for a moment, and looks at you with a confused expression on his face.

"I don't know what the hell she's taking about, but I know you aren't leaving me stranded here and driving five hours back home just because you're pussy whipped." You tell him as you place all your items on the conveyor belt.

Anakin looks at you for a moment, and then speaks.

"I agree with you, I'm not leaving the beach just to see her."

He pauses for a moment, and then shakes his head.

"She'll have to wait until next week, cause right now, you're the only person I want to spend time with."

Anakin grabs the items off the belt, and puts them into a single bag.

"Now, let's head back before this gets blown out of proportion."

You and Anakin leave the store and make it back to the small beach house. You started unpacking groceries.

Anakin helps you unpack the groceries, and sets some of the food in the fridge.

Anakin then pauses for a moment, and looks at you with a small smile.

"So, we have a whole week left to make it count, right?"

He looks ahead to the living room, and places his hands on the back of his head.

"What do you want to do first, hang out here, go out somewhere, or..."

Anakin pauses, and looks at you with a playful smile.

"Or just have some more fun on the couch?"

"Shut up." You roll your eyes.

It was already 6:00 p.m. so you didn't have much time to do anything.

"How about we take it easy tonight? We can order in, watch some Netflix, smoke some of that weed." You smirked.

Anakin nods, and starts to take a little more interest in the suggestion.

"Sure, we can do that. Sounds like a good way to kick off the week."

Anakin smiles in approval, and glances towards the living room.

You dig through your suit case and find that brown paper bag full of joints that Anakin bought for some sketchy kid 9 months back.

Anakin starts reached for the bag.

"East there tiger, let me order the food first." You laugh.

Anakin chuckles again as he follows you back to the kitchen, and you place the call for the pizza.

As you wait for the food to arrive, you grab the bag full of joints and pull one out.

You look back at Anakin, and chuckle again as you pass him the joint.

"Let's at least celebrate the start of our week here, shall we?"

Anakin smiles, and takes the joint from you.

"You look good tonight."

Chills went down your spine. He has to know what he does to you. He gives you just enough attention to keep your hopes too high and then turns around and talks about Padme. You couldn't wait to get high and enjoy that sensation of not worrying about anything.

You ignore his comment and order the pizza while Anakin does God knows what.

Anakin paces back and forth for a moment, and then stops in front of you.

"Hey, I... I'm sorry about earlier."

He pauses for a moment, and then speaks with a soft tone of voice. "I know I just kept talking about Padme."

Anakin then takes a deep breath, and shakes his head with a small disappointed smile.

"It's okay Ani. Look the pizza will be here soon." You put your hand on his shoulder.

You notice he has a thoughtful look on his face while he stared at you.

"What are ya doing? You okay?" You ask.

"Hm? Oh, nothing. I was... um... just thinking?"

Anakin tries to look innocent, and pauses for a moment.

"Yeah, let's say I was thinking. And don't ask what I was thinking about."

Anakin smiles at you again, and then pauses for a moment.

"What about you? What were you thinking about?"

There's a knock on the door.

"I was thinking about how fucking weird you are." You stand up and get the door.

It was the delivery guy, as you expected.

Anakin smiles, and glances at you with a chuckle.

"I think you need to be a little more specific than that."

Anakin watches as you bring the pizza into the house, and smiles with approval.

"Nice, it's here! I'm actually starving".

Anakin grabs the box, and looks at you with a sly smile.

"Now that's out of the way, we can go back to having some fun, right?"

"Yeah."

You sit down on the couch and turn on Netflix.

"Ani, you pick what to watch."

You hand Anakin the remote and reach for a joint out of the bag and light it. You take a slow drag and lay your head on the back of the cough while passing the joint to Anakin.

Anakin takes the joint from you, and sits down next to you on the couch.

He takes a deep drag, and turns on Netflix.

He then pauses for a moment, and speaks to you with a relaxed tone of voice.

"We are watching The Office."

He chuckles softly, and passes the joint back to you.

"Yes! I love the Office." You grab the joint.

Anakin smiles, and takes another drag from the joint.

He looks over at you, and then pauses for a moment.

"Hey, quick question, what did you think of my outfit earlier today?"

There's a tone of curiosity in his voice, but a hint of nervous excitement, almost like he's eagerly awaiting your answer.

"You're high." You take a bite of your pizza.

Anakin laughs softly, and shakes his head.

"Oh, come on... let's not deny this, you thought I looked good today."

And then, he says it.

He speaks his feelings out loud.

"You know you thought, I looked hot today."

Anakin turns to look at you, and speaks very directly.

"And if you didn't, why would you agree to come here with me, on what's basically a romantic road trip."

"I'm the only hot one here."

You grab a blanket from off the back of the couch and lay it out over you.

Anakin smiles, and leans over towards you.

He speaks with a playful tone of voice.

"Oh is that so?"

He pauses for a moment, and then reaches out to gently touch your face.

"Maybe we can find out just how hot I'm talking about."

He stares at you for a moment, his touch becoming slightly more intimate as he feels his emotions building and boiling up within him.

"Anakin, pass me the joint."

You don't know what he's doing, but you know this flirting isn't real, even as much as you wish it was. He liked Padme.

Anakin passes you the joint, and slowly leans in towards you.

He holds your waist with one hand, and the other hand comes down to your face.

"Come on."

Anakin speaks very passionately and intimately.

"Let's just... forget about what we think is good for us. Let's just act on whatever we feel is good for us, at least for tonight."

His voice becomes more desperate, as if he's trying to convince you that the way you feel is real.

"Anakin. You're high. You don't actually want this." Your breath gets heavier with each word.

Anakin pulls you close into him, and whispers in your ear.

"Oh but I do, and you do too."

He strokes your chin, and speaks to you with that same desperate energy.

"Come on... let yourself go. Let's not worry about what we might 'regret', all that matters is this moment."

"You know I want this. That's why you flirt with me. Because you know you can mess with me. Because I'll never have you." You look into his eyes.

Your mind was was foggy from the high you were on and you were pouring you heart out to Anakin unintentionally.

Anakin looks as you speak, and then leans down to your face.

His voice is very soft and quiet, as he speaks gently to you.

"You always say I'll never have you..."

There's a hint of pain in Anakin's voice as he speaks, but it's quickly washed over by an expression of passion.

"But deep down, maybe I do have you... and maybe that's why I say those things, it's because I wish you would see... you've always been mine."

"What about Padme? I thought she was the one you wanted. I'm just your annoying best friend?" You continued.

Anakin holds you with one arm, and pulls you closer with the other.

He then looks into your eyes, and answers to the question you asked.

"Padme doesn't matter. Right now, it's just us."

Anakin smiles, and pulls you onto his lap.

"She doesn't have to come between us right now."

He rubs your cheek with his fingers, and lets out a small chuckle.

Anakin just stares at you, and speaks with a passionate tone of voice.

"Right now, I just want to spend the night with you, and for you to show me how much you... want me."

Anakin pulls you closer, and caresses your chin with his fingers.

"You know you want it, I can see it in your eyes. You always show me that you do."

The tone of his voice, and the way he speaks, there's no hesitation. There's no question.

"Anakin, I've always wanted you. I've waited my whole life for you. But now that you say you want me, it doesn't feel right. It feels like you are just saying this because you can't have Padme right now. You were just talking about how great she was." You cup his face with your hand.

"We're both going to regret this in the morning." You mumble.

Anakin places his forehead against yours.

Anakin giggles softly, and speaks with a hint of arrogance and playfulness.

"Maybe we will, but right now... we only regret the things we don't do."

He places a hand on your waist, and then rubs your leg slowly with his other hand.

"Come on, can we just... enjoy what we have. Just for one night... what's so bad about that?"

"Because you'll want her in the morning, not me. That will break my heart." You whisper.

Anakin stays quiet for a moment, and then starts to chuckle.

"I think you're underestimating how much I want you right now. And you know what..."

Anakin leans his face towards yours, the smell of the joint filling your nostrils.

"Maybe... you can show me just how much you want me. And maybe that will change my mind in the morning."

"Fuck you. I shouldn't have to convince you."

Your mouth said one thing but your body said another. You gave into your temptations and slammed your lips into Anakin's and layed the joint down on the ashtray on the coffee table.

Anakin smiles, and pulls you closer towards him.

He speaks with a sense of urgency, and his words come out like they're coming straight from the depths of his soul.

"I know you want it, I know you want me."

He rubs your waist, and caresses your cheek passionately.

"I don't have to be convinced by your words."

His voice gets deeper, and he speaks with more confidence.

"I'm convinced because of the way you look at me. I'm convinced because of the way you say my name."

Anakin pushed you back onto the couch and begins to kiss you again.

Anakin leans on the couch, and kisses you back passionately.

He lets his hands wander freely, and his body moves slowly against yours.

The words he spoke just moments ago became true.

There is only one thing he wants, in this moment, and it's you.

You let yourself fall completely into his control, not worried about the morning. He had completely convinced you that he didn't want Padme, that he wanted you. You wouldn't usually let your guard down so easily, but the weed was hazing your mind.

As you give in yourself, Anakin becomes more assertive and more confident.

His lips meet yours with more passion, and his body moves in sync with yours.

The tension he's felt for the last several hours starts to disappear.

Anakin is now completely lost in the moment, and the thoughts of Padme never crossed his mind.

Until his phone rang.

Anakin freezes, and quickly looks down at his phone.

"Sorry, just ignore that."

He says it with a certain amount of desperation.

"It's Padme, it's nothing important."

"I fucking knew it." You push Anakin off of you.

Padme is like a parasite. She always drove a wedge between you and Anakin.

Anakin's voice cracks, and he speaks with a hint of hopelessness.

"This... this isn't important right now."

There's more sadness to his voice than desperation.

"Please, let's just forget about her for a second. Let's just enjoy what we have right now."

"Why? So you drool over Padme again tomorrow?" You ask.

"I'm not doing that to myself Anakin. Let's just forget this ever happened, okay?"

Anakin looks desperate.

He shakes his head, and speaks with more urgency.

"No! We can't just forget this, or pretend like it didn't happen."

There's a hint of sadness in his voice as he speaks.

"You know how long I've wanted you? You know that this is the only chance we have right now!"

Anakin pauses for a moment, and then speaks again.

"So don't ask me to just forget this. Please, just give me tonight."

"You're high. We're both high. We aren't in our right minds. Let's just go to bed and talk about this later when we are rational." You reason.

As much as you wanted what Anakin was saying to be true, he says a lot of weird shut when he's high. He was probably just horny or something. It would be best to sleep it off.

Anakin lets out a sigh.

"You're right..."

He speaks quietly, and starts to get up off of the couch.

"I'll just... go sleep off these thoughts."

He walks towards the door, before turning back around.

"But maybe... in the morning, you could give me a chance to prove what I just said?"

"Goodnight Anakin." You wave him off.

"I'll take the couch tonight."

Anakin nods silently, and leaves the room.

A few moments later, you can hear the sound of Anakin walking up the stairs to his room.

Anakin's bedroom door closes, and then you're left alone.

You can't help but feel a little bittersweet as he leaves.

You wonder if he really did mean what he said, or if it was just the weed talking...

roadtrip IV

299 notes · View notes

pjisskullourful · 4 months

Text

ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕘𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 [dec,2023] [the complete series]

🎄Damiano × Ethan × reader

NSFW🔥 festive filthiness

° Damiano David/Ethan Torchio/female reader insert ✨ cameos by: Thomas Raggi & Victoria De Angelis

° all you want for christmas is some alone time with your boyfriends

wordcount::: 4,876

° merry christmas ya filthy animals. this is lore's fault (@lifeofa-fangirl ) 💋 thanks for encouraging me past my bedtime [requests are open! but commissions are priority! there are 2 fics currently in cue, secure your own spot here!]

° i own none of the lyrics included!

“Aw, I wanna sit on Santa's lap.” You said with an exaggerated pout.

You were watching one of your boyfriends getting ready to film a TikTok, they were making some silly content for social media. Selling the new album, that was the goal. And given the time of year, a Christmas theme seemed like the smartest thing to do. You weren’t sure who had come up with this concept, but it had been agreed for Ethan to play the role of Santa - more specifically, taking on the job of a mall Santa. The other three band members would take turns sitting on his lap, asking for a gift. At the end, it would reveal to be the new album and they would act ecstatically happy.

An assistant had rushed out, buying the best hat and fake beard options available. There was a bit of time before they had to be dressed and fully ready for the stage here in Tokyo, so the makeshift set had been prepared. Paz (the lead social media coordinator) was calling the shots, mobile phone in hand, like always.

You weren’t sure how fond you were of this fake, white beard, mostly due to how much of Ethan’s gorgeous face it hid. But you couldn’t help putting your own dirty spin on this scenario. You pictured sitting on his lap and telling him all the things you wanted him to do to you, once everybody but Damiano was gone.

You wondered what you could say that would make Ethan squirm in his seat. Could you turn his cheeks as red as that polyester hat if you reminded him (in great detail) of the Christmas-themed debauchery the three of you had gotten up to in the past? You could talk about that time in December when you had gifted him new bundles of shibari rope in the festive colours of red and green. He had taught you a few different ties, using Damiano to practise, until he was immobilised, then you had worked together to completely overstimulate him. Or maybe Ethan would like to reminisce on the glass, candy cane-shaped dildo your boyfriends had gifted you one Christmas, which you had later used on yourself while video calling them.

These were all wonderful, festive memories for you. But they needed to be kept to yourself for the moment.

“Do you want us to say anything specific?” Damiano asked Paz.

“Nope. We're going to put music over the top of it, some Christmas song.” She said. “You can say whatever you want, you can literally talk to him in Simlish if you want.”

Ethan's eyes lit up at that, and you didn't need to see his mouth to know that he was smiling. “Wetzbow.”

And Damiano instantly replied with a word from the video game's fake language. “Hooba noobie.”

“Are you gonna be holding your cup of tea in the video?” Thomas asked.

“If he wants to.” She said, overruling everyone else immediately. “You can do what you like, anything but shoving your tongue in his ear.”

Damiano groaned dramatically. “Now that's all I wanna do.”

“On your own time, Dam.” Thomas said.

You stood off to the sidelines, out of the camera's view, not wanting to get in the way of their filming. It was very cute to watch, all four of them overacting and Ethan attempting to not fuss with his beard while Paz was filming.

You couldn't hold back your giggles when he was directed to give the camera a cheesy wink to close the video out. It didn’t look like it was coming naturally to him, instead it looked as if he was putting a lot of effort into completing the simple gesture. Was he overdoing it because he feared that otherwise the camera wouldn’t pick it up?

“What are you laughing about?” Damiano asked, the three of them were perched on the chair around Ethan, holding the record sleeves up for the camera to see.

“Yeah, who fucked up?” Victoria asked.

“No, no, there was no fuck up. I’m just- it’s nothing, ignore me.” You said, trying to stifle any further giggles. “Great winking, bubba. You’re really doing a great job.”

“Thank you?” Ethan said it as a question, his brow furrowed and you covered your lips with your hand.

“Alright, let’s give the ending another take and I’m gonna try to get a smooth zoom in on that wink.” Paz said, refocusing everyone. “Are we ready? Let’s go, lots of energy ‘cause you just got the best Christmas gift known to man.”

You bowed your head and turned around as subtly as possible, so as to not disrupt this take. You kept your amusement over him winking like an alien just introduced to the concept to yourself. You could laugh about it with him later.

*** *** ***

You had long since ceased thinking about Santa, in any shape or form. Now that you were back at the hotel after Måneskin's show, your mind was only on relaxing and getting yourself ready for however much sleep you could secure for yourself. You were cuddling up with Ethan in bed.

Damiano was having his last cigarette of the night, out on the room's balcony with a cup of tea (it wouldn't be his last of the night). Ethan was winding down in his own way, scrolling through Reddit on his mobile phone. If he found anything of interest on ‘Out of the Loop', he read them aloud to you.

He got up to use the bathroom, out of the room when Damiano returned inside. You sat up, taking a longer look at your boyfriend.

“Why do you look like you're scheming something?” You asked.

“Me? I look like I’m scheming something?”

“Yes, you do.” You said as he didn’t make any attempt to conceal the cheeky grin on his face.

“I don’t know what I could possibly be scheming.” He said, going over to the table where your backpacks had been dumped upon first arriving back. “Ethan?”

“Bathroom.”

He didn’t try to hide what he was doing and you watched him opening his own bag, pulling a bright red hat out. You identified it as a Santa hat before he was swiftly folding it up and depositing it into the pocket of the baggy pants he wore. You narrowed your eyes, unable to figure out what his goal was.

“Are you sure-?”

The bathroom door made a little click as it opened and he moved over, going to Ethan’s bag instead. You dropped the rest of your question, wanting to see how this played out.

“Do you have any gum, babe?” He asked Ethan.

He walked over, helping Damiano go through his bag. “Gum? Weren't you just having peppermint tea?” Damiano took his hands out of Ethan's bag, seemingly satisfied that Ethan was distracted enough. While Ethan was looking through the contents, Damiano's hand went into his pocket. “Did you not get enough peppermint, or-?”

Ethan was startled into silence when Damiano brought the Santa hat down onto his head. Damiano pulled it down, the white trim resting above Ethan's eyebrows. He narrowed his eyes, looking at Damiano, clueless. You began to giggle even though you still didn't know what he was planning.

“Was this ever about gum?” Ethan asked.

Damiano put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a tap on the nose. “No, it's about you being the cutest Santa in the world. Look. And we should get to enjoy it for longer, more than a stupid TikTok.”

“Okay.” Ethan relented, knowing better than to resist when Damiano was in a playful mood. “Enjoy it, then. What do you want me to do? Is there a certain pose that you are really needing to see me do?”

“You just do whatever pose feels natural for you, bubba.” You said. “Make the character your own.”

“Actually. Come with me.” Damiano said, taking Ethan's hand and leading him over to one of the armchairs. “Sit down, because this is more about me doing a pose for you.”

“Oh?” Ethan sounded intrigued.

You moved towards the end of the bed, also thoroughly intrigued and not wanting to miss anything. Ethan sat down in the seat and fussed a little with the hat, getting the pom-pom to the right spot.

Damiano plucked his phone out of his pocket and threw it towards you. “Help me out, sweet thing.”

You unlocked the screen - you knew the passcodes to all of their devices. His phone opened immediately to a website that showed you lyrics. Now you knew what he was up to.

Damiano stood in front of Ethan's knees and Ethan smiled up at him. He started to reach one hand up above his head and sang the beginning of the song.

“Santa baby…” He sang sweetly and bent his knees, lowering himself. “Slip a little sable under the tree…”

Ethan chuckled, his smile growing. “I'm getting a song? Wow, a private performance just ‘cause I put a cheap hat on.”

“Been an awful good girl…” Damiano sang, getting down to the floor as he kept his eyes on Ethan. “Santa baby…” Damiano put his hands to Ethan's knees and pushed them apart. “And hurry down the chimney tonight…” He rolled his body forward, filling this new space and getting closer to Ethan.

He reached out, his fingers brushing across Damiano's cheeks. He was leaning in and it was clear to you that he wanted to kiss, still smiling, entirely invested in Damiano's shenanigans.

But Damiano denied Ethan the kiss. Instead of kissing him, Damiano stood up and began to walk a slow circle around the seat. He continued singing, not needing any musical accompaniment to keep his focus.

He stood behind Ethan and popped his head over one of Ethan's shoulders. “Next year I could be just as good…” He moved over to the opposite shoulder. “If you check off my Christmas list…

“Santa baby…” You saw his hesitant pause and then his eyes darted over to you as he mumbled over the next words. “Ah, huh- wan'...”

“Yacht.” You read, prompting him from the lyrics in front of you.

He nodded and went back to singing loudly, fully confident again. “...a yacht, and really that's not a lot…”

The slip up hadn't taken away from how captivated Ethan appeared, he kept his eyes on Damiano, turning his head so as to not miss anything. Damiano got in front of Ethan again, turning his back. He leaned forward, hands on his knees as he presented his ass to Ethan. As he continued singing, he slowly rocked from one side to the other, wiggling his butt sensually in Ethan's face. Ethan was still smiling, raising his hands, clearly wanting to grab.

“So hurry down the chimney tonight…”

Damiano faced him, putting his hands to the buttons that ran down the front of his shirt, making a show of undoing them. “Santa honey…” He got the shirt off, but looked to you for more guidance.

“One little thing.” You said, letting him get his groove back.

He found his place in the song and kept singing. He held his shirt in both hands and passed it around the back of Ethan's neck. He used this to bring Ethan forward, his head going to Damiano's bare chest, which Ethan didn't resist.

Damiano began to shimmy his shoulders, making Ethan laugh. He put his hands to the other man's back, his words a little muffled. “Oh, it's been so long since I've had a good motorboating.”

“Fill my stocking with a duplex…”***

Damiano put himself in Ethan's lap, facing him as he reached the end of the song, still so full of energy. “Hurry down the chimney tonight…” He put his hands on Ethan's shoulders, leaning in. “Hurry, tonight.”

Before Ethan could compliment this performance, Damiano was kissing him. Damiano put his hand to the back of Ethan's head, making it clear that he wanted more than a peck. You were glad to not need to help with the lyrics anymore, now you could stop looking at the phone and instead concentrate on them. You watched the way Ethan kept his hands on Damiano's back, the two of them sinking into this embrace and it was just as enjoyable to watch as his singing.

“That was really great, Daddy. I loved it.” Ethan said as Damiano continued to hold the shirt taut around the back of his neck. “You definitely got me feeling the Christmas spirit.”

“Christmas spirit?” Damiano repeated. “That's what you're feeling?”

“Yeah.” Ethan said before kissing him again.

He began looking in your direction a little. “Do you know who else could do with a little Christmas spirit?”

Ethan looked at you too. “Hi.”

You got up from the mattress, starting to walk towards them without any real plan of what to do. “Hi.”

“I heard what you said before.” Damiano told you. “You said you wanted to sit in Santa's lap too.”

Ethan smiled at you. “Did you say that?”

“Well, yeah. Everyone else got a turn sitting in your lap. But I would do it differently to them, a little less camera-friendly.” You said.

Damiano got up and moved out of the way. “It's your turn now.”

You went over, your hand resting on Ethan's shoulder as you got closer. “I'm not going to sing to you.”

“That is so fine, you don't need to.” He said, his hands going to your body as soon as you sat down. You faced him, brushing his hair back off of his shoulders. “Not to sound too transactional, but the only thing you need to do is tell me what you want for Christmas.”

You put your hand under his chin, propping his face up as you leaned in. “I want to be on the naughty list.”

“What are you going to do to get there?” He asked quietly, his eyes going down to your mouth.

You put your lips to his, moving your hand up to caress his cheek. You were soon tasting hints of the flavour left behind by Damiano - his cigarette and mint-infused saliva still vaguely present on Ethan’s lip as you rubbed your tongue against it. It was a testament to how deeply your boyfriends had been kissing and you intended to go just as deep.

Upon returning back to the suite, Ethan had stripped down to everything but his underwear. So when you pressed your body against his, you were feeling the heat from his skin through the T-shirt you were wearing. You wrapped an arm around his neck, intending to savour all of the benefits that this closeness brought.

“I hate to interrupt.” Damiano said. “But I just felt the need to share how glad I am that you haven’t decided to start talking in a Santa voice.”

Even as he began to turn away, Ethan kissed you a few more times. “Well the voice wouldn’t make much sense without the beard.” This set you off giggling. “But I might start speaking like him, in that I’ll steal his catchphrase to call you a hoe hoe hoe.”

“Ooh, would you? You know how much I love it when you address me correctly.” Damiano said.

With no further interruptions, you got back to kissing Ethan. As you did this, you began to move your hips, gently rocking. It was a prelude to what you planned to do, a subtle way to check his receptiveness.

He moved his hands beneath the material of your shirt, at the same time as when his tongue slid between your lips. You felt the anticipation swelling up within you as you looked forward to creating a new festive (yet filthy) memory with them.

“This guy hears everything, huh?” You said.

“Santa? I think the lyric is about how he sees everything you do, right?” He asked, a cute crease in his brow.

“No, this guy.” You said and you jabbed your thumb in Damiano’s direction to help add clarity.

“Well I listen when you talk, baby. Because most of the time you’re saying something dirty.” He said and as you looked up at him, Ethan started to kiss across your neck. “I was standing right next to you, you can’t be that surprised over me hearing it.”

“So you heard it, and then you just thought about it all night?” You asked.

“Pretty much. A man in a makeup chair has a lot of time to think.” Damiano said. “You weren’t thinking about it after you said it, making little plans of what you would do if you got the chance?”

“Uh…”

“Answer the question, baby.” Ethan said.

“I was definitely thinking about it when I said it. It wasn't just a passing comment, I had some- you know, images in mind at the time. But I let it go once the hat came off because I figured it wouldn't happen.” You said. “And now I'm making it up as I go along, I didn't plan like you. I'm just letting the Christmas spirit take me wherever.”

“Ah yes, the Christmas spirit.” Damiano said, wiggling his fingers in the air.

Ethan got your attention back by kissing you on the cheek. “Well you're in my lap now, you better make the most of it.”

“Watch me make the most of it.” You said, giving him a kiss.

Then you quickly removed your shirt, his eyes keenly taking in this sight. You put your hands down to your panties, happy to get out of them for him. You stood up, removing the lingerie altogether and turning your back to him.

You made sure to arch your back, sticking your butt out as you lowered yourself down to his lap, facing away from him this time. He wrapped his arms around your middle and gave you some kisses across your shoulder, meanwhile you were reaching your arms out to Damiano.

“You must have gotten yourself worked up while you were making your little plans there, Daddy.” You said.

“Yeah, there were definitely images in my mind, as well- interesting, pleasing, exciting, memorable images.” He said, smiling as he moved in closer.

With him standing in front of you, you unzipped his jeans, reaching in for his briefs. Over the fabric, you began to run your hand up-and-down the length of his dick. He cupped your cheek in his hand, gazing down at you. Ethan continued kissing your skin as Damiano caressed your bottom lip with his thumb. As you were grinding yourself on Ethan, you opened your mouth and took Damiano's thumb between your lips, sucking on it a little.

Behind you, Ethan was making some adjustments. Before too long you were feeling his hot and uncovered dick. You grinded your butt against it, feeling how stiff it already was. He tightened his arm around your middle, more of his body tensing as he let you settle into a rhythm.

You were feeling Damiano getting firmer, so you proceeded to pull his dick free of his underwear. Immediately you wrapped your fingers around his length, working your hand at almost the same rhythm you were rocking on Ethan. You didn’t have to match it perfectly, the look on Damiano’s face told you that he was appreciative of what you were doing.

Wanting more than just sucking his thumb, you emptied your mouth and turned away. You looked at Ethan, bumping your nose against his cheek for his attention. He took his lips off of your shoulder, quickly making himself available for more kisses. You leaned in so close as you claimed his mouth again.

He was moving his body with yours, attaching himself to your energy. As the two of you were tapping into this synergy, you acknowledged that this encounter was no longer about playing roles. The focus wasn’t on the time of year, now it was about enjoying the experience of each other’s bodies. He wasn’t acting as Santa, now he was acting according to his desires.

He got himself lined up, sinking the tip of his cock into your slicked entrance. Now excitement rushed into your body and you broke the kiss before your breath could be wholly taken away.

As Ethan tenderly pushed more of his shaft inside, you changed the way you were handling Damiano’s cock. You looked up at him, beginning to direct him towards your mouth. He sweetly stroked your cheek some more, his eyes were locked on you, not wanting to miss any of what you were doing. The way that he was so captivated by your movements, it was the same way that huge crowd had watched him for the duration of the concert. He was so invested and you planned to show him exactly why you had earned this.

You pressed a kiss to the head, enjoying the beginnings of his taste. You saw his breath coming in quicker as he anticipated what you would do next. You moved your tongue in rings on his tip, letting the sensitivities build. All the while, Ethan was pushing deeper into you. You continued stroking your hand on Damiano’s length, your eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered yourself to this rising passion.

Ethan’s movements were all the more enticing now, steadily massaging you into a heightened state. His hand gripped your side, holding you so securely while his other went to your breast, playing with your firm nipple. As you kept in time with him, he applied kisses to your neck, taking the chance to appreciate every part of you within reach.

You pushed your tongue out over your lower lip before you slid your mouth further down Damiano’s length. His hand went to the top of your head as you took the majority of it between your lips. So as to avoid overwhelming you too soon, he held himself still, the thrusting would come later. You let his head rest against the roof of your mouth as you used your tongue on the underside of his cock. You explored this area, gliding your tongue up-and-down.

When you sucked your cheeks in around his dick, his fingers curled, wrapping around sections of your hair. The swinging of Ethan’s hips got faster, indicating a neediness that hadn’t been present earlier. It saw you moaning on Damiano’s dick as you felt the friction between yours and Ethan’s bodies growing. It introduced tremors into your system and you noticed how his kisses had started to linger, the occasional lick and brief suck added to how he treated your neck.

You changed the angle on Damiano’s dick so that you could take him deeper, directing him to the back of your mouth. He whimpered, his stance altering - you knew him well enough that you could tell he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back much longer.

And you welcomed it. You sought to draw more out of him, taking the head of his cock to the opening of your throat. He gripped your hair tighter.

Then his lust took over and he allowed his hips to twitch forward, plunging him into the tightness of your throat. You felt him throbbing in there.

He sighed out your name. “You’re so ready to use that sweet mouth for naughtiness. I didn’t even have to ask you to put it in your throat.”

He rocked himself back, leaving your throat for the moment. You reset your lips around his dick as he thrust his hips into your face. It wasn’t very quick, and compared to what Ethan was doing, it felt extraordinarily gentle.

He had stopped kissing the side of your neck, now resting his head against yours for support as all of his efforts went into the incessant snapping of his hips. You did your best to keep up with them, meeting the majority of his thrusts. But the power of his movements easily dwarfed yours and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to quit, not while he was so clearly on the path to his climax.

It was enough to just keep moving, to keep your body invested in his momentum as he followed one reckless collision with another. You listened to his numerous failed attempts to catch his breath. Goosebumps sprang up all over your body as the tension swelled up to fever pitch.

You felt how easy it would be to become overwhelmed by the electricity rushing through you. But he beat you to it, capturing his release with one final pound into you.

For the moment it seemed that you could feel every nerve in your system and how fraught they all were. He leaned back, giving you back some of your personal space, his arm loosening around you. He stilled himself after taking his hand off of your breast.

But Damiano was not still, keeping at working his cock between your lips. Ethan stroked your back as you moved your focus, sucking your cheeks in a little harder.

“Well, this sight is better than anything I could have thought up.” Damiano said.

You felt pride blossoming up. There was something in knowing how much you turned him on that added to your own arousal.

It wasn’t as simple or superficial as a compliment. And you were eager to put this energy to use, to ride these dazzling emotions to the next height - where things were going to be even more exciting.

You weren’t sure if Ethan was done recovering yet or not, but you simply couldn’t hold yourself still any longer. You started to build your own pacing, thrusting in his lap again. He didn’t discourage you in any way and you worked yourself on his cock, while still sucking Damiano’s.

He was getting more into his bucking, both of his hands holding your head now. “What do you say, baby?” His tip glided into your throat again. “Do you want a new necklace for Christmas?”

You forced yourself back, taking him out of your mouth. “Uh-uh, I'm gonna swallow it.”

He beamed. “Oh, yes you are.” He pushed his tip between your parted lips and you opened your mouth further for him. “You're so ready to swallow it all.”

You shut your eyes and moved yourself further down his length. His fingers flexed and relaxed, then gripped again on either side of your head. You rutted yourself back into Ethan, striking him consistently.

You could feel the excitement getting out of hand and you were soon chasing for that release. Your walls gripped tight to Ethan's cock and the sensitivities swam through your body, ready to overwhelm you with each hungry thrust.

On his next rock forward, Damiano delivered his dick back into your throat. You couldn't control the spasming this prompted, but you also weren't bothered by it as your focus secured on your own experience. You were diving over the edge and capturing your orgasm, trembling wildly between your boyfriends.

With drool spilling down your chin, you began to come back to reality. You looked up at Damiano, he writhed against you, chest rapidly rising-and-falling as he kept himself in your throat. You were still shaking, you put your hand to his wrist, willing yourself to stay with him.

It was a victory when you felt him unloading straight down your throat - you were rewarded with the thick and hot liquid. With a series of incoherent, strangled sounds he rocked back slightly, leaving your throat, but staying in the warmth of your mouth. You could have taken in a deep breath, instead you breathed through your nose so that you could secure your lips around his cock, giving him a strong finish. He ran his shaft against your messy lips, the cum filling into your mouth with his every lazy thrust.

He finished out the momentum, his fingers relaxing on your head as he pulled out of your mouth. You leaned back into Ethan, who kept his arms securely around you. He reached up, wiping away some of the mess that covered your chin as you took a few thorough swallows. You shut your eyes and just concentrated on catching your breath.

“Definitely on the naughty list now.” Damiano said, his hand soothingly rubbing across your forehead.

“Oh, she's topping that list, for sure.” Ethan said. “I'll put in a word with the right people, because I got connections.”

“When you're making your cup of tea, can I get one as well, please?” You asked, not bothering to open your eyes as you slumped further into him.

“Of course you can get tea, sweet thing.” Damiano said.

As you gradually came down, you and Ethan relocated to the bed. You stole the hat off of his head. Damiano moved around the kitchen while Ethan disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came back into the main room, he had a thoughtful look on his face. “So should I grow a beard? Is that what I should take from this?”

“Nope.” You answered quickly.

“Only if it's white and curly.” Damiano contributed as he came over with the tea.

You started giggling as both of your boyfriends joined you on the mattress. “So he'll have to keep it consistently bleached and sleep with fuckin' rollers in it?”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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joke i thought about much after the fact

*** "Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing- a ring: one that goes on my cock!"

#merry nasty christmas #damithan throuple fic #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #manesmut

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saintsir4n · 6 months

Text

5. FIRST DATES

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT

"HOW'S this look?"

Carson stepped out of her room, to show off her date fit. Her hairless legs were the first thing that caught Keelie's attention, her fine v-neck strappy rose-coloured dress was the second. The material accentuated her curves, her stud earrings and cross necklace were perfect accessories. Her relaxed hair was brushed and slicked up in a bun.

She wanted her makeup to look as natural as possible even though glitter coated her eyelids and she had on more lipgloss than usual.

"You lookin' to get some tonight right, how long has it been?" Keelie finally said after picking up her jaw from the wooden floor.

"Shut up," Carson denied, despite wearing her favourite and most scandalous lingerie beneath the dress. "Just 'cause you gotta girl you wanna mock me." She murmured, picking up her sandal heels.

"But for real, you look fine. He's gonna have a heart attack," Keelie cackled, amusing her friend.

Carson winked, "Not before he gives me some."

"I know that's right."

"Where's takin' you?" Keelie questioned, sitting down on the sofa, trying to get all comfy for her night in.

"Cha Cha Cha."

"Cute, he payin'?" She instantly received a deadpan look from Carson, who picked up a bag that matched her shoes.

"I wouldn't be goin' if he weren't. Please I've messed with broke boys before, never again. Brian has a car, money... well as much as me and is easy on the eyes," Carson listed, adjusting her dress.

"But that name..." Keelie said wincing.

Neither of them was the biggest fan but oh well.

"I know, but pet names exist," Carson joked, rolling back her shoulders.

"Thank God, imagine moanin' Bri –" A knock at the door cut off Keelie. "Speak of the blonde devil and he appears at our door."

Carson calmly shuffled over to the door, ignoring her friend's giggling and pulled it open, revealing a beaming Brian whose smile only widened when he saw her.

His eyes dragged from her stunning face to her shoes.

"Like it," Carson showed off her fit, whilst holding onto the door.

"Do I like it?" He gushed, "Shit, it's better than I dreamt."

"You were dreamin' about me? Do I live in your head rent-free?" She flirted, allowing him to come into the house but his hand caught hers on the way in and didn't let go.

"Maybe."

She bit down on her lip, "Maybe huh?."

Keelie gagged from the sofa, though, couldn't help but think they looked very good together. His simple yet effective style complemented the pink that always clung to Carson.

"Eww, get out already, I have a Project Runway marathon to watch," she feigned disgust, turned away and picked up the remote.

Brian didn't even mean to ignore Keelie but his girl — correction Carson, was right there. He nodded at the spunky girl who mockingly smiled at him.

Carson called out behind her, "Call Mia or somethin'."

Keelie groaned, "Have a nice night, look after my girl Ben Affleck, and wear protection!"

Once they got to the restaurant, Brain pushed in her chair, then rounded the table and sat opposite her. They each ordered their food and sipped on their drinks, waiting for it to come. The place seemed to be busy and booming but the paid paid no mind to the noise, the way they lived prepared them enough.

"So how is it, anyways that the — the gang came to be?" Brian asked, wanting to know more about them.

Of course, he wanted to learn Carson, he was already captivated by how she carried herself, how she spoke, laughed and pretty much everything else. Even on the drive over she teased him, pretending to grab the clutch when he was busy being distracted by her beauty. Usually, he was a focused guy but around her... it was different.

"The what?" Carson let out a laugh as she took another sip of her water.

His brows furrowed, "The gang."

"The gang? No, we don't call ourselves a gang."

He leaned forward, "Well, what do you call yourselves then?"

"We're a team. They call themselves a team. Well, I'm sure you've heard me say crew, but just say team."

Brian leaned forward on his elbows, "All right, so how is it that the team came to be?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time." A smile burst onto his face, waiting for her to tell the story.

Carson sucked in a deep breath, "Well, I never knew my mom. My dad raised me before he got sick..." she trailed off, always finding it hard to talk about her father's illness.

"Hey, you don't have to go on," he gently grabbed her hand from across the table, making her heart flutter.

He reassured her and so she slightly changed the topic.

"My dad spent years workin' at F1 for a while before meetin' Jack Toretto."

His eyes comically widened, "Damn, F1?"

She nodded along, "Yeah, he kept a few things, the toy cars and all that, but most importantly all the skills he learnt stayed with him. He helped Jack with a few things, whilst I was teethin' in the garage. The Toretto siblings looked out for me."

"So they're your family," Brian never realized how close she was to them, it made him think.

"Exactly, since I was in diapers, explains why my Dad made theirs my godfather, vice versa."

"What about Vince? You're close with him right?" Brian went on to ask, only letting go of her hand when their starters were placed on the table.

He missed the feeling, so did Carson, but they had to eat at some point.

"He and Dom were childhood friends. So he saw me like a little sister," she explained and caught the scepticism flash through his sparkly eyes.

"Just a little sister?" He pressed, picking up some plantain from his small plate.

"Yes, just a little sister," she repeated, but it was clear Brian was highly cautious around Vince, "Letty was a different story. We were friends before she caught Dom's attention. She was always into cars. Ever since she was, like, 10 years old. So naturally, you know, Dom always had her attention. And when she turned 16..."

"...She had Dom's attention." Brian finished her sentence and took a sip of his drink.

"Yep," Carson had to look away from him for a second, his smile had her weak in the knees.

It was a good thing she sat down.

Brian asked after chewing on another piece of plantain, "How is it that Jesse fits into the whole thing?"

"Jesse?" Carson repeated, smiling toward the waitress who placed the rest of their food on the table. Brian could see how happy she was with the food. "Well, Jesse and Leon just sort of showed up one night and never left. Like little weeds. Don't get me wrong, I love them. Jesse's like my annoying older brother and Leon is like that cousin who appears everywhere."

"And Keelie, one of my main tormentors?" He humoured.

She chuckled, "She's like my twin. Only older by a year but she got me through a lot, even got me a job at the salon straight outta graduation and let me stay with her."

Brian hummed in acknowledgement, eating his main course, realizing how much Carson had been through even if she didn't say it. Her smile tended to conceal a lot and whether or not it was real, he knew she was a fighter and the team was her family, who fought alongside her.

It made him question a lot.

"So that's your story?" He asked, half of their plates were in their stomachs.

"Yeah, and now it led me to you," she playfully jabbed her forward in his direction.

"Mm-mmm." Brian hummed in disagreement. "No. No." Carson cocked her head to the side, wearing a confused look that he thought was cute, "I think we would've met regardless, would've made sure of it."

She blinked in shock, "You would've?"

"Yeah, Sonny."

The nickname fell from his tongue so effortlessly that she almost missed it.

"Sonny?" Carson repeated, feeling the butterflies in her stomach take flight.

"What, you don't like it?"

Hee face scrunched up her face, doing everything in her power to not look like she was hanging onto his every word but it didn't work.

"It's cute."

"Mmm," he winked at her, then finished most of what was on his plate.

She appreciated he wasn't one of the people who ate with their mouths open or were very messy.

"So what about you, pretty boy? You close with your folks?" She dared to ask, eyes darting to her plate so she missed the alert expression on his face.

"My mom raised me. Dad wasn't really in the picture."

She raised a questioning brow, snapping her gaze back to him, "You didn't know him or...?"

"He would call the cops anytime I came round."

Her eyes doubled in size, shocked to find he looked calm as ever, so she changed the subject.

"Any siblings?"

"None."

She slowly nodded, "That's cool."

Carson noted how short his answers were, but decided not to think about it too much, he's not comfortable talking about his past, she concluded.

"Shit, that reminds me, speaking of families, my dad always wanted to get me some car bling, you know those cartoon sunshine bobble things to hang from the rearview mirror."

"Why don't you get it now?"

"Never know where to find the exact one, and I never have the time," She replied, pursing her lips as ideas popped into his head. The leftover food on his plate got her attention, "You done with your plantain?"

"Yeah, want some?" she nodded, and went to take it but he stabbed his fork into the sweet yet thin delicacy and shook his head, "No, I'll feed it to you," Carson obviously wasn't expecting him to do this. "Open."

After getting over her initial surprise, she ignored the smirk on his face, leaned over and decided to mess with him, by accepting the food, teasing him with a soft moan when she took it in her mouth and even let her eyes flutter for a few seconds.

Brian swallowed the knot in his throat, but that didn't stop the heat from spreading to his cheeks. Fuck, was he flustered, as was she, but she managed to conceal it better.

Carson sensually wiped the corners of her mouth as his fork clattered against his plate.

"Delicious."

Brian sharply exhaled and waved down the waitress, voice coming out a bit squeaky as he exclaimed, "Can we get the bill?!"

His mouth captured hers when he pressed her against his living space at Harry's. Their kisses were more passionate than either of them thought, there was a desperate edge to them, needy almost. The drive over to his place was breathtaking, she never felt so safe despite his foot hammering down on the gas pedal.

Carson's gasps and whimpers were music to his ears, only inspiring his hands to move along the flint fabric of her dress and slowly peel it off of her as they stumbled over to his bed, leaving a trail of shoes, her bag, his shirt and pants behind.

Brian's touch was like fresh air, satisfying and she only wanted more. He found every curve, caressing and pinching only drawing more moans from her.

Although neither could see well, the moonlight lit up his bed, showcasing her lingerie, to which he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Look at me," he demanded, pulling away, resting between her legs, finding the pool of desire he wanted to soak up and consume. Her darkened gaze caught him pulling away her underwear and finding solace between her thighs where he gripped her tighter due to her every moan and kissed after her every gasp. She struggled to keep eye contact but his baby blues were a beacon and his tongue was his tool of pleasure that pulled her closer to her high. He thought that a win was nothing compared to this, not at all. She tugged at his curls, begging for him not to stop and he complied, "God."

It took seconds for her eyes to roll, and her legs to quiver, whilst letting out a silent scream as he stared at her in awe, wishing and needing more from her.

He was relieved of the rest of his clothes as was she, letting her breasts free of the erotic bra and glide against his chest the second he came up to meet her lips again.

She moaned at the taste on his tongue.

"Not bad for a pity date huh?" She playfully groaned at the quip. "You okay?" He wasn't satisfied by her nod, he needed verbal confirmation, "Words."

She shuddered at his demand, "I'm more than okay."

He flashed a smile and looked at her once again. The illuminating moon lit up her brown pools, entrancing him from where he hovered. Just as he was about to take her hands in his, she stopped him.

"No lover boy, get a condom, I swear you wanna trap me, or somethin'."

He licked his lips, still leaning on his arms, "Want me to?"

"Don't — strap up," she practically shoved him away, laughing with him, and although the thought of it was funny, she wasn't ready to be a mom or even sure that she wanted to be one. Brian looked serious after a while, coming back with a condom, he found his place between her legs then he pushed them around his waist as she grabbed onto his biceps. "You good?" She breathlessly questioned after seeing the look in his eyes.

"Have you done — you're not a virgin right?" He cringed at his wording.

She was amused that he was even asking, "No I'm not a virgin."

"I don't wanna hurt you," he mumbled against her lips, ceasing her impending laughter as a warm feeling settled in her chest.

"Oh, well it depends how you put it down," she whispered, and with how he teased her, she couldn't imagine any disappointment. He deeply chuckled at that, glad to receive confirmation and grabbed her hands. With a gentle thrust, Carson sunk further into his bed, consumed by his deep and slow movements, that had her drawing for breath after each moan. "Fuck."

As for first dates, Carson was blown away.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

a/n:

soo... the ship has sailed officially. carson was willing to spill everything because she trusts brian, will that come back to bite her in the arse? i mean he was very haste and quick with his answers on the date, it's upsetting because people will call her naive for accepting them but she was being kind.

i think they're so cute and properly one of my fave couples to write out of all my stories.

halfway through the story now. next chapter will be a filler, but i loved writing it. simply exploring her bond with him is just so heartwarming but how do you think it will all play out in the end?

#wattpad #fanfic #black reader #brian o’conner x carson baker #carsonbaker #brian and sonny #sonnybaker #brianoconnerfanfic #brian o’conner x black!reader #brian o’conner x reader #fastandfurious #fast and the furious #y2k #2001 #pink #racer #brian o’conner smut #brian o’conner nfsw

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strawberrymilk-sunshine · 2 years

Text

That poor, unfortunate, sweet child...

Can you guys tell just how much I like Octavinelle yet

ALSO ALSO was anyone gonna tell me that Flotsam and Jetsam had their own songs in the broadway version of The Little Mermaid or was I just supposed to find out from this cover?

Warning(s): tweels are over-protective/possessive, Azul is a yandere, forced kissing, mentioned fighting and injuries, reader is gn but the term 'merman' is used to refer to them, I'm writing this super late at night again so the quality might not be great

You would do anything to get Jade and Floyd to stop bothering you.

And, well... you did do anything.

You signed your name upon the golden contract scroll.

"Ah, thank you, (Y/N). I assure you, all your problems will be solved very soon."

"...Azul, why do my legs hurt?" You asked, immediately assuming he had something to do with it.

"It's simple. In order for you to get something..." He smiled. "I must take something in return!"

You fell to your knees, screaming out in pain. It it felt like... like someone was stabbing your legs... or like they were melting...

"Does it really hurt that bad?" Azul asked. "Well... I do suppose that'd be rather painful for you... do quiet down, though, we wouldn't want to scare away the other patrons."

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!" You yelled.

"I simply did what I had to in order to get Jade and Floyd to leave you alone."

That was weeks ago.

What was Azul's solution to the twins bothering you? His solution was... to turn you into a merman. Probably the worst solution he could've thought of, in your opinion.

Well, Jade and Floyd did bother you less now that you were one of them, but still, this sucks.

You were allowed to swim in the stupid little fish tank at Octavinelle's stupid little business and all the stupid little customers find your stupid little new body super cool leading Azul to get more people to agree to his stupid little deals, ugh, you hated it.

Floyd taught you how to use your tail properly, which was nice of him, but it didn't change the fact that he was really fucking annoying.

You didn't want to be here.

Jade and Floyd would wrap their freakishly long tails around you in, I don't know, I guess some kind of hug?

"Poor child." Floyd whispered to you.

"Poor, sweet child." Jade added.

"Aaaahhh, you're not happy with your situation, are you...?"

"How sad."

"How traaagic."

"But (Y/N), don't you know?"

"This is what's best for you!"

"Now that you're here, in the water, a part of our world, we know that you are safe every hour of the day while we're away at school."

"Yeeeah... we were worried for you, just so worried, when you were going to classes! And now that you don't, we don't have to feel so scaaaared for you, ehe~!"

"This is the best solution."

'For you, maybe.' You thought. You wanted to say it out loud, but, well... you don't see that turning out well for you.

But, what the three of you didn't know was that someone else had his myopic eyes on you.

Every day Azul saw you in that new body of yours, he found himself becoming more and more attracted to you.

It was vexing, how beautiful you were. Everything about you. Your fins, your tail's colouration, even the parts of you that didn't change during your transformation somehow was more attractive to him now.

What was different? Was it just that you were now the same species as him? Is that the only reason? No, it's more than that, it HAS to be more than that! Is it... jealousy? Is the only reason he likes you so much because Jade and Floyd like you so much?

Well, whatever the reason, Azul was forced to admit that he was falling in love with you.

"I'll let them have their fun." Azul said to himself, chuckling as he looked into the tank. The twins were too busy smothering you to notice him, and even if they did, there's a thick layer of glass between him and them, they wouldn't be able to hear what he was saying. "I'll let them play with (Y/N) a while longer. But, their time is running out. Long before (Y/N)'s theirs, they will be mine. I'm sure of it."

"Um... Housewarden A-Ashengrotto...?" Some random Octavinelle student asked. "You, uh... not to interrupt your plotting... but, there are some clients waiting for you."

"Ah yes, tell them I'll be right there."

"Yes, Housewarden!" The nameless student ran off.

"(Y/N)... you poor, unfortunate soul. We'll be together soon." He kissed his finger and pressed it to the glass.

Things haven't been getting worse, which is good, but that doesn't mean it's been getting any better.

You've been getting more used to this half-fish body. And it was kinda cool, in a way... you gotta look for the good things in life, you know?

You were just relaxing, wondering if you would ever get to turn back to normal. Then, you heard something enter the water, and the water became... cloudy...?

Oh. Oh, this is ink, isn't it.

"(Y/N), you have to promise not to make fun of me, ok?" You heard a voice that was absolutely Azul ask. Great, this is exactly what you needed.

Wait... maybe it is exactly what you needed! Maybe you can convince him to tear up the contract!

"Why would I make fun of you, Azul?" You asked in a sweet tone. "You're so amazing, there's nothing to make fun of you for!"

"Oh...! Well I... t-that's very kind of you, (Y/N)." Azul said, sounding nervous in a romantic way (don't come for me I couldn't find a word). "Every passing day, every time I see you... I find myself falling deeper in love with you."

The inky cloud disippated, and you saw Azul in his octopus form. And you had one thing you needed to ask.

"Why aren't you wearing your glasses?"

"As an octopus, I have speacial muscles in my eyes that help me overcome my near-sightedness." Azul explained. "Naturally, when in human form, I don't have those muscles and thus need glasses."

"Azul... you like me, don't you...?" You asked.

"Ah-! Yes, I-I suppose that's true..." Azul looked away from you, a blue blush spreading across his face.

'Well, if you do like me, then..." You leaned forwards. "Rip up the contract."

"Mmm... no, I can't do that, (Y/N)..." Azul said, sounding troubled. "That contract is protecting you. You know how... protective... Jade and Floyd are of you. If things were to go back to normal..." He shuddered at the thought.

"What? People would die?" You jokingly asked.

"Well... yes." Azul said. "I'm almost sure that's exactly what would happen."

"Oh."

"Yep."

"But-"

"You'd be much safer with me." Azul stared directly at you. "Wouldn't you agree? I could get Jade and Floyd to agree to a contract where the terms include never being anywhere near you! wouldn't that be perfect? It would, wouldn't it? (Y/N), don't you agree? Don't you agree?!"

"Wha-? G-get your tentacles off me!" You yelled.

"(Y/N), let's make a new deal, why don't we~?" Azul asked, leaning in close as he wrapped his tentacles around you. "I'll give you your legs back..." He whispered. "All you need to do is love me."

Before you could say anything else, two people (or rather, two morays) dove into the water.

Oh, this can't be good.

"What do you think you're doing, Azul?"

"You think you can just try and steal Shrimpy away from us?"

"We won't allow it."

"They're ours."

Azul decided to choose a very risky move. He kissed you. He kissed you directly on the lips, passionately, nearly making out with you. As some sort of power play, maybe? You're not sure why he did it, truthfully.

The aftermath of that was obviously a fight between the trio.

Azul did manage to get out of the water and escape within an inch of his life.

"(Y/N), he didn't hurt you too badly, did he?" Jade asked.

"He didn't hurt me at all!" You insisted.

"He didn't try to force you into a deal, did he?" Floyd asked.

"N-no! No! He didn't! Why would he?" You asked, hoping they wouldn't realize you were lying. That contract Azul mentioned... you can go back to normal, if only you love him! And... and he can make sure the twins never bother you again.

Quite the tempting deal.

"Well alright then!" Floyd smiled almost too widely. "I'm gonna go make sure Azul isn't too injured. All things considered, we need someone to run the Lounge... it'd be so booooooooring running it."

"Yes, agreed. Speaking of injuries, I should go visit the infirmary." Jade said, before turning to you. "(Y/N), you'll be ok on your own, right?"

"O-of course I will! You know me!"

"Alright then! Later Shrimpy!"

"See you soon, (Y/N)."

To be honest, you don't care what you have to do for it to happen, you just want your life to go back to normal.

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tenjiiku · 1 year

Text

rapture / winter

it's been ten years since you left. he still falls for you the same way he did when he was 17.

manjiro sano x fem reader

11.7k words

warnings: portrayal of abusive relationships

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You first met Manjiro at ten years old. Two years your senior, you were positively terrified of him. You remember this now, of all times, particularly because you dreamt about your first encounter last night.

It was during the Summer of 2001 on a Sunday afternoon.

Having Emma Sano appear at your door only three days after sharing a simple smile with her from across the lawn of your new home was certainly a surprise. Mama had fawned over her many times over dinner, urging you to befriend her. To which you would dismiss, opting to gaze at the girl like some foreign entity — open to admire but never encounter.

The year was in that strange time between the Summer and Autumn. It was awfully cold to fully show one's legs, but by the same coin it was too hot to be wearing a sweater. You weren't sure if Emma had caught you at a favourable or unfavourable moment. You had just gotten out of the shower, on the one hand. On the other hand, because you finished your schoolwork and housecleaning on Friday, you had nothing to do over the weekend.

(Thinking back, Emma had always watched over you.)

“Y/n-chan! We're cuttin' some watermelon, come have some!"

The older girl is positively giddy. You briefly get blinded by her radiant aura. The trees and grass are both stunningly green, and the sky is clear and blue. The scenery complements Emma's presence and vice versa.

She is mature and beautiful. She is everything you are not.

You pinch your inner palm, bend your four fingers and dig them into your skin.

"I...," you start, "I don't know..."

"Are you busy or somethin'?"

"I... was cleaning." You lie.

Emma rises to her feet in response to your justification, leans to one side, and looks inside your home. When you realise what the blonde was doing, your eyes widen, and you awkwardly lean in her direction to hide her vision. It was too late, though.

"Your house looks pretty clean to me!" Emma cheers, "Come on, I wanna play!"

You open your mouth, close it, then open it once more before murmuring a small, "Really?"

"Mhm, we’re gonna play hide n' seek!"

You bite the inside of your cheek. You gaze at your feet, bare because you could not afford indoor slippers. Then you stare back at Emma's hazel coloured eyes.

"Come on!!!"

You take a deep breath in, suddenly becoming hyper aware of every action. You consider all the drawbacks of saying yes to Emma's invitation. But your personal worries would pale in comparison to the blonde's disappointment at being rejected. You had a strong desire to spare Emma's sentiments of disappointment for some reason. Mama had always told you to respect your elders — to never question them, to always be a good girl and listen. So you did. And Emma was no exception.

"Alright..."

Emma grins. You cannot help but also smile. Mama would be so proud of you.

It's almost comical how little it took for the girl to become so filled with glee — but you found it rather cute. You can practically feel Emma's contentment as you finish putting on your sandals.

"Come on, come on. Hurry hurry, the others are waiting!"

Others?

Before you can ponder on that thought a second longer, Emma grabs your arm as soon as your key leaves the door's hole. You try to calm the beating of your heart as you find yourself entering Emma's large complex. What ever were you thinking — going into a stranger’s home when mama was gone?

"Ah! Emma, you brought her!"

At the sound of a boy’s voice, you snap out of your reverie. The hold Emma has on your wrist is taken away and you suddenly feel as though lava has been poured onto you from the sheer intensities of the various pairs of eyes all drawn onto your meticulous frame.

But you dare to look up, and notice that Emma has brought you to the dojo you would often listen in on during evening martial arts lessons. It was open, presenting the wooden engawa, small cherry blossom petals falling in preparation for Winter littering the cracks.

"Emma managed to drag you outta the house, huh?"

The strange man asks with a smile, approaching you and Emma and being bold enough to pat you on the head. You close your eyes at the contact.

"Good job." The young man directs towards his sister, who grins pridefully.

"Hehe, thanks!"

You lift your head, the heavy hand still on your scalp. Your cheeks feel hot from the contact which the man refuses to take away. Still, you try to introduce yourself.

“I’m— I’m L/n Y/n.”

The man finally takes his hand off of you, gazing down at you with lazy lidded eyes and a Cheshire grin. He inhales from his cigarette and puffs the smoke out to the side, you try to keep yourself from coughing.

"Sano Shinichiro. Your mother had come over with pork gyoza the other day. Told me to take care of ya.”

You bind your hands together, awkwardly and unassumingly you murmur, "Oh. Okay. Yeah."

You put on a false ignorance about the three other boys in the yard. You stare one of them in the eye before looking sheepishly down at your feet again.

"Hey!" From across the grass, the boy with whom you shared eye contact yells. You tremble.

As he approaches the two of you, his voice is raucous and loud, as befits the situation. Suddenly drawn to the noise, you look in that direction and are astonished to see someone else appear between Shinichiro and you.

He extends a hand and says, "Baji Keisuke!"

At first, you're taken aback by how swiftly he decided to greet you and carried it out. He appeared to have acted without even pausing to consider, but you firmly believed otherwise. Keisuke, still in front of you, stretches out his hand. You can sense Shinichiro-san beaming broadly with amusement. You can't get out because everyone is already focused on you, so you dive in head first — despite not knowing how to swim — to make everyone feel comfortable.

You also extend your hand, accepting his, "L/n Y/n.”

Your way of speaking was a large juxtaposition of Keisuke's greeting. You accept his hand, and you are surprised to find it so warm against your own. Keisuke in turn, smiles at your willingness — at least you suspect so.

"Y/n, nice to meet ya!" Keisuke shouts, his toothy grin being so dazzling that it almost causes you to lose vision. You could probably work with the fact that this boy wore his emotions on his sleeve.

"Keisuke, you shouldn't say something to someone you just met."

From his seat next to Manjiro, a boy with a buzz cut in rose colour makes fun of his friend, clearly igniting Keisuke's boiling rage.

He turns his head, "Shuddap Haru!" his pupils engorged with venom.

While the two boys argue, you look at Emma apologetically.

“That’s Haruchiyo-kun, next to my brother, Manjiro. Or, we like to call him Mikey!” Emma gently explains to you, pointing at the short blond haired boy beside the taller one. Your eyes meet for a couple seconds, then you look away, anxiety pooling in your stomach.

When you hear the tell tale sounds of grass crunching underneath boots is when you pick your head up to notice an older man looking at you, then at Shinichiro. His taller frame gives you some relief from the sweltering heat, allowing your previously strained eyes to temporarily relax.

“She’s the new neighbour?”

He has a deep, slightly menacing voice. Shinichiro smiles and nods, and the stranger then turns to look at you.

As a sign of acknowledgement, he raises his head, saying, "Takeomi, Shinichiro's friend.”

You adjust the hem of your simple white t-shirt as you nod in agreement. You notice a girl looking at her from behind the man's legs, but as soon as she makes eye contact with you, the youngster runs away once more. You raise your hand to your cheek and begin to scrape the skin there.

Once more peeking her head out from beneath Takeomi's legs, the young girl now also catches Emma's eye. The blonde smiles at the girl while furrowing her brows.

"Senju!" Emma hollers and dashes behind Takeomi's knees to grab at the child's hand. She tugs the small girl from behind her brother, finally letting you catch a glimpse of her.

"This is our new neighbour, Y/n-chan!" Despite being only a few centimetres away from Senju's smaller frame, Emma explains fairly thunderously.

Senju's once-wary eyes seemed to flood with warmth the moment the blonde introduced the young girl to the unusual person who made her best friend Emma so happy.

"Hiya!" She exclaims, her hair bouncing with the sudden head nod.

"Hey-... Hi." The two girls round you and stare at you as if you were holding stars in your hands while you stammer. Baji stays by your side as well, and the sudden attention makes you perspire.

You're happy you chose to wear white for today.

"Are ya gonna play hide and seek with us?" Senju queries.

"Uh," You dare to cast your gaze in the direction of Manjiro and the boy Baji had dubbed Haru. You look back to the shorter girl in front of you out of shame as the two give you a direct stare. "I-I'm not sure."

At this, Emma and Senju whine, and just when you’re about to retaliate, you feel a heavy arm swing around your frame and rest on your shoulders.

"Come on, L/n," Keisuke drawls, emphasising your surname and darting his eyes towards Haruchiyo, "We need more players, 'sides, Haru doesn't even count 'cause I can catch him in a second."

Baji receives a direct blow to the forehead from a tiny rock that appears out of nowhere. The hit is so loud that you would have thought you could hear the wind current it briefly generated while being hurled. The thrower had some talent. After a brief squeeze from the shock on your shoulder, Baji's arm drops from your frame to support his hurting forehead.

"Ow!" When the youngster hollers, Haru is already glaring at him.

"Oops." Haru simply says, causing his partner with the dark hair to frown. He chuckles back and turns to look at Manjiro, who also appears to be smirking just a little.

"Join in the fun, Y/n-san!" Senju cries out while grabbing both of your hands.

You had no idea what in the world you did to attract the girl's attention. In truth, you were unaware of how you got here. The heat was really starting to affect you.

"Yeah! We need more girls!" Emma joins, capturing Senju's arms with her own two hands. You note how the three of you somewhat look like those barrel monkeys, all connected. You bite your inner cheek to suppress a smile.

Your eyes flicker from Baji's gaze to Senju and Emma before returning to Baji. You've run out of falsehoods to tell, and before you arrived here, you were fairly good at it. They were staring at you as you were burning from the sun's excessive brightness.

And that was exactly when it began.

"Fine. Okay, okay."

Emma and Senju both cheer, growing elated that their playing field was becoming more equal. Keisuke forms a toothy grin at the prospect of having one more person join their game, a new neighbour at that, nonetheless. Manjiro's gaze remains situated on the group, not bothering to move from his position, and Haruchiyo throws a glance his way.

Hot burns in your head. You hadn't planned on meeting four new individuals over the course of the weekend, three of whom were rather keen on welcoming you into their little circle. While Emma pulls on your arm, you allow your gaze to fall on her brother. While you weren't anticipating special treatment, he was the only one who paid you no attention. Sincerely, you believed that Keisuke, Senju, and Takeomi were more outgoing and curiously open than him. His response seemed reasonable and reassuring to you.

You hope Manjiro ignores you always.

"Who's gonna be the seeker?" Emma asks.

"Haru! 'Cause I caught him first the last time!" Keisuke states, which earns him a glare from the rose-haired boy.

"That works for me," Manjiro says in his first sentence since you got here. You would've liked dwelling in your shock a little while longer, but Haru instantly turns around, not before rolling his eyes, and covers them with his hands.

It all happens so fast. The two little girls beside you squeal with excitement, already starting to back away from the group. Keisuke sports a wild grin as well, mentally preparing his hiding spot. Manjiro leaps off of his rock to land right in front of you.

"How much do I count till'?!" Haru yells.

"Thirty!" Keisuke hollers, his voice distant.

You turn towards Emma and Senju, only to find that the girls have already disappeared. Baji was already running far too quickly for you to catch up, and suddenly you found that your cheeks were too hot under the sun. Your stomach churns in anxiety. It was like your feet were stuck to the ground.

Suddenly, a tug on your wrist snaps you out of your trance. Eyes widening, you’re forced to twist your body towards the intrusion, and your eyes meet with a mop of blonde hair. They travel downwards towards your hand to find it engulfed in his. You barely have time to spare Shinichiro and Takeomi a glance, but they watch with surprise as Manjiro drags you further away.

One moment, you are drowning in sunlight. The next, you’re overtaken in darkness, and a wooden door shuts behind you.

As your eyes adjust to the sudden shift in lighting, you find that you’re in a garden shed, and notice wall space between a shelf at which you decide to lean against.

It seems as though you were the only one out of breath, as the blond boy in front of you casually leans against the door. You have both come face-to-face now. It's intimate, not in the romantic way. It was quiet, the sound of the heat permeating through the wooden boards. Light floods in through the cracks, you can feel a little bit of the warmth on your cheeks. Playing with your thumbs, you do not dare look so freely towards Manjiro as he does to you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage from anxiety. You want to peel your skin off and take a dip in cold water to get rid of this feeling.

Finally, the culprit who caused you such emotions, is the one to put out your fire.

"You suck at hiding. You’ve never played hide an’ seek before?'' His voice is soft when he insults you so casually.

You lift your head to finally make eye contact with him. You can hear wind chimes in the distance. His eyes are clouded, like he was hiding a million secrets in them.

Furrowing your brow out of frustration, you look down at your feet, "I— I never wanted to play."

“Why’d ya say yes, then?”

His question makes heat rise in your chest. You look down, placing a cool hand on your face.

“I.. I dunno.”

The garden ornaments from outside send a pleasant tune to float in the atmosphere. A slight breeze bellows in from the cracks, You tried relaxing yourself by tilting your head upwards, closing your eyes. But your moment of peace is short-lived.

"You dropped this too."

At the sound of Manjiro's voice, you turn your head to him once more, only to notice a familiar red hair band you recall you tied your hair with this morning.

"Oh," your eyes twitch, something of a smile-perhaps formed out of anxiety-painting your features, "Uh…, ah — sorry."

Staring at the hair tie with eager eyes, you suspect the boy to give it back to you any time soon. But he simply stands there, holding it firmly in his hand. His eyebrows are slightly raised, and it almost looks like he is awaiting a statement to be said from you.

"Can I have it back?" You murmur.

You watch Manjiro rather intently. A resounding quietness befalls them. You note how it looked as though gears were moving behind his eyes, as though he was pondering on what to say next. Perhaps he was not as indecisive as you had first suspected him to be. Every move he made was a calculation he made in mere seconds — which made him all the more terrifying.

“Beg for it.”

You blink. Manjiro only smiles at your colourless expression.

“Don’tcha want it back?”

Your heart starts to race. You want to go home. You don’t like this. He’s smiling like it’s funny. You feel like crying sort of, because you know he is making a joke of you. But you don’t. Because Mama said big girls don’t cry.

“What? Lost your voice?” He mocks again.

You murmur something under your breath. He raises an eyebrow. You murmur it again, pinching your palm with four fingers to calm the panic in your chest. Manjiro crosses his arms, leaning back smugly.

“Hah? What? I can’t hear ya.”

You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re mean. I don’t like you.”

Manjiro blinks soundly. He doesn’t insult you, but he doesn’t give back your hair band. He simply stands there, staring at you. He seems to slump back at your insult. You think to yourself — has anyone spoken up against him?

He doesn’t say another word the entire time. The cicadas’ chirping fills the resounding silence.

You can hear the screams of Emma and Senju, no doubt Haruchiyo had discovered their hiding spot. When you can sense bodies from outside approaching the garden shed, Manjiro stands up straight and walks towards you. You, instinctually take one step back. You can’t be close to boys — especially not one like him.

He looks at you with an expression you cannot describe. It silences the beating of your heart.

"Here," Manjiro utters, grabbing your hand with one hand and manoeuvring it so that your palm opens — which he then places the hair tie on.

You are left staring at your open hand, confused at Manjiro's actions. He keeps your hand in his hold for exactly three more seconds, before releasing it. You keep your hand there for a few more moments, trying to register what exactly had just concurred.

A moment passes. Then another. And another. Manjiro scratches at the scab on his elbow, looking down at his sandals. You pretend you don't notice. You can’t really think, anymore.

Haruchiyo finds you both. He interrogates Manjiro on why he was hiding with you, to which the former tells him to shut up. Emma stares at you with bewilderment, which morphs into childish amusement at the prospect of her older brother taking a liking to you. She teases you, hooks her arms around yours and drags you back to their house.

You fiddle with the hair tie. Manjiro was weird. You wanted to go home.

You take a long, cold shower the following morning.

You were no longer children. You had lost all contact with your once friends, never having the gall to introduce yourself once more. Shinichiro-san had died from a car accident the same year your mother had passed — and neither of you had been the same since. Manjiro had grown rough and you had grown cold. You will never get those grievances back, and everyone had just expected one day for you to be alright with such a thing.

You liked to play pretend for their sake, be a small, nice little girl for their comfort — and ignore the incessant rock in your throat that had lodged itself there, stuck for fifteen years.

But with each passing season it only seemed to grow — to suffocate you more and more than the previous years.

You cry under the water with the stone.

Will it ever go away?

The next day, Manjiro begins the conversation. Perhaps it was because you had been acting like a shell of your former self since the aforementioned recalling of your adolescence. Maybe it was because of the cold weather. Regardless of the reason, it was during breakfast — over savoury bowls of tamago gohan — while you were seated across one another under the single kotatsu because that is all he could afford.

You feel like a stray cat he has taken in. The utter irony of it all.

You felt Manjiro’s eyes on you for ten minutes before he pointed his chopsticks at you disparagingly and spoke through a mouthful of warm rice and egg.

“You’re shaking.”

You huff at his audacity, gazing down at your bowl before bringing a bite of rice to your mouth, “Am I?”

Of course, he does not answer. Because he is Manjiro Sano who is nosy, loud and fastidious. He is Manjiro Sano who never finishes what he starts and leaves you to pick up the pieces. You never considered yourself particularly tough before encountering him.

Setting your half empty bowl down, you choose to question him.

“Why did you move to Osaka?”

Manjiro doesn’t answer. Rather, he turns his head to the open engawa, and pretends to care for the sakura petals that fall off the tree branch. You furrow your brow, setting your chopsticks down in your bowl.

“What about everyone else in Tokyo?” You inquire once more.

Thirty seconds pass. You wait, knowing an answer is going to come. The first shove was complimentary, the second prod was real — at least that was how it worked when Manjiro was 16.

“What about them?” He huffs, taking a sip of his morning beer, “They all know my address.”

You bite back a smile — afraid that if you were to show amusement he would only take it as a sign to continue dismissing your concerns. Manjiro had changed but his small little idiosyncrasies remained hidden. A selfish part of you is delighted at the notion that — despite your anxieties — you had truly not forgotten him.

“Don’t you ever feel…,” you bunch your hands together, “lonely?”

His next answer comes naturally. “Nah, think it’s ‘cause it’s new to me.”

“Right,” you shake your head, laughing, “ha— right, right.”

You look down at your bowl. Of course, what were you expecting? Manjiro was nothing like you. He was loud compared to your quiet. Captious to your carelessness. Unlike you who fretted over such illogical matters he would barely put any thought behind even those affairs which required them.

“Do you feel lonely?”

You lift your face up a tad too quickly and despairingly at his question. He’s looking at you with a blank slate of an expression, and it is in this moment you wish he would return to being unserious. You feel like you are in that very garden shed he’d hid you both in.

You force a laugh, “What? No— no. I—… no… No.”

An awkward silence descends upon you both yet again. The chirping of a little ringed plover fills the room. You think, or at least you try to with Manjiro staring daggers into your side profile. Wrapping the blanket he had given you tighter around your frame, you take a deep breath.

“What about… Keisuke and the others?” You ask, tentatively. His name sounds so odd on the tongue. You don’t think you have said it out loud for nine years now.

Manjiro huffs a chuckle, and you mellow.

“I visit him the first of every month. We all show up at his place,” he explains soundly, bending his left leg and wrapping his arms around it, “And his mother every two weeks. But she likes to be left alone.”

You stare at his hand that scratches at his foot. By Keisuke’s mother he most definitely meant her grave. The woman had always been an eccentric character in your childhood. She made the most delicious rice cakes and warabi mochi. You recall the memory with a solemn grin. She passed away two years ago. You hadn’t even known — only realised she was gone when Manjiro had told you nonchalantly in passing while you were preparing breakfast how much he misses her omurice.

You had burnt your index finger that day, and hid the mark from him.

A wind passes by into the house. The wind chimes sing a familiar tune, and you are surprised to notice that they are the very ones the Sanos had back in Tokyo.

You haven’t confronted yourself in a while. She scared you. Maybe confronting this monster inside will soothe this ache within you — you reason.

“I’d— I’d like to go. I’d like to visit them soon.”

Manjiro’s stare which was directed on his foot moves to meet your eyes. He looks at you for three seconds, scratching at his wrist. He stares at you in a way that silently asks you — ‘Are you sure?’ — and your gaze only hardens; with determination or fear, you can’t really choose.

Manjiro nods.

“Alright.”

He picks up your dishes and places them in the sink for you to wash. This is your routine.

You follow him to the kitchen, standing awkwardly behind the island as he looks at the plates he has put. His hands clench around the metal. He looks up at you once more.

“Alright, we will.”

You reach Shibuya at 9:26pm by car.

When you step out of the passenger seat and onto the road where Manjiro parked, the wind that greets you is warm, for November, at least.

An overwhelming wave of anxiety invades your stomach. Suddenly, the warm air does not help you. You feel like someone has set you on fire. Each step you take towards Keisuke’s home — a large house you have never even thought would belong to someone of his stature — your heart pounds erratically. Manjiro’s resounding footsteps following behind you only add to the reality of the situation. You want to go home. You should have never come.

A hand on your shoulder stops you in front of the door.

“You’re shaking,” Manjiro’s voice states the similar expression back in Osaka. You stare into his eyes, trying to ground yourself.

“Am I?”

“Yeah,” his eyebrows furrow in a mature sense of concern — it is so unlike his past self, “You know, you don’t have to meet them. I can tell them you got sick.”

Your mind manages to eat the information he is feeding you. Once it has consumed every morsel you shake your head. You wipe your clammy hands against your pants — you note how Manjiro’s eyes follow them wherever they go.

“No,” you breathe with a shaky tone, folding your arms across your chest, “No, I—I’m good.”

You shrug his hand from off your shoulder, taking a deep breath in. You haven’t been in this neighbourhood for nearly eleven years. It’s only natural that you are a bit nervous. Manjiro does not look quite convinced. You look behind your shoulder to find him, unmoving and unentertained. You leer into his hazel coloured eyes.

“I promise, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

You tell him for the final time, walking to the entrance of Keisuke’s surprisingly old-fashioned home.

You don’t even have to knock on the door, someone opens it for you from inside. You crane your head up to meet a pair of aquamarine eyes. A small smile traces itself onto your features.

Haruchiyo speaks before you can — he has always had the habit of doing that; taking the first step ahead in the riverbank you liked to explore together, the first bite of freshly sliced watermelon, and the first one to make fun of your mother’s death.

He stares at you like you never even left — like you were coming back from the grocery store.

“The hell happened to you?”

Your smile only grows. “Hi, Haru.”

Tiny pleasantries greet you, and — oddly — Haruchiyo’s arms do, as well. He is even taller than he was back in junior high school. His hair is longer and he still manages to stand out everywhere he travels. You can vaguely sense Manjiro entering from behind you — but you don’t have a lot of time to dwell in his presence. Not when Haruchiyo brings you to the living room. They are watching baseball, the kotatsu is out, stray chips and half empty beer cans litter the surface.

You have never felt more at home.

Keisuke and Ken lift their gazes from the television to you at the same time, when a home run is scored. You smile wearily, and they return it with a grin of their own.

“Y/n…” Keisuke is the first to speak, standing up and approaching your unassuming frame. He looks into your eyes for three seconds — an odd gesture, given that he never waited before — before enveloping you in a warm hug.

You grab his back almost too quickly. It only lasts five seconds but you feel the familiar heat in your stomach return — the one you had carried since ten years of age.

He asks how you have been. You murmur a solemn fine and compliment his home. He bashfully explains how Chifuyu had planned out the interior and exterior designs, and informs you of the fact that Kazutora is with him down in Hokkaido — getting supplies for their pet shop.

Keisuke is much more refined and mellow compared to his former self. His spontaneous nature and wild energy scared you at age ten, and treated you softly at sixteen — when the only boy whose presence did not scare you, was his. Even now, with a few grey strands in his hair, he is gentle and kind — offering you whiskey soda, somehow guessing your favourite drink after a decade apart.

Haruchiyo and Ken tease Manjiro in the kitchen. You overhear everything about him even when you do not want to — even as you are engaged in a conversation with your childhood friend.

“Oi, oi, Mikey. You cut your hair?”

“Ohh, he did, wouldja look at that.”

“Shut up.”

They return with more beer cans. Keisuke sits on the floor next to you on the couch. Ken’s eyes fall on your frame the same time your gaze falls on him.

“Hi.., Ryuguji,” your tone sounds sad. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way.

“Y/n…,” the widowed man returns your smile with one of his own, handing you a can of beer, “Please, call me Ken.”

You stare at it. You stare at him. You don’t know how he does it. The grief doesn’t line his face nor eyes the same way yours does — and it was fresh and new. It still stung and he deserved to feel upset. You did not, you had moved across the ocean and forgotten everyone because of yours — and yet it brought you back to square one, right on a sofa bed somewhere in Tokyo.

You put away your thoughts, locking them beside the incident in the garden shed many years ago. It could be dealt with later.

For now, you take the beer can from Ken’s hands with trembling fingers — praying he cannot tell you want to run.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Dinner is lovely. Warm pork ribs purchased from a local restaurant, spinach salad with sesame, sunomono, and many warm bowls of rice are shared amongst the five of you. You feel Manjiro’s gaze fall on you every so often — almost as if he was trying to assess and read your emotions, to be there to catch you when you fall. It feels odd, every time he looks your way. Every time he does, you clench your beer can tighter.

You do not know why he cares for you so. You are not going to give him what he wants. You can’t, right now.

After dinner, you step out of the golden lighting of the living area to the engawa that opens up to the small square area of greenery. American porch lights hang on the tall pillars holding up the structure of the house, and your eyes instantly fall on the small koi pond installation on the right of the green.

You vaguely hear Keisuke and Haruchiyo yell at each other from inside. You walk barefoot on the grass. You feel like an oversized child.

The creaking of the floor boards alerts you towards the open entrance. You turn as Ken approaches you. His lips are laid flat — and he pretends he doesn't even see you. You appreciate this about him. He’s never made you uncomfortable.

You think you should say something for both of your sakes. Spill the milk and clean it already.

So, you — the ever awkward — murmur softly towards the koi fish, “You’re all so… taller.. now.”

Ken huffs a laugh, standing next to you now. His shows are on, though.

“Maybe you just shrunk.” He jokes. You smile.

“Perhaps,” you respond, “I heard that the weather in New York does that to one.”

For a while, you both stand there. A congenial silence befalls on you both. The wind chimes play a foreign tune. The smell of whiskey, cigarettes and fried pork are carried with the wind. It feels the same way a full stomach does.

A couple moments later, Ken mutters to you, turning his head to gaze down, “You look lovely, tonight.”

You turn your head, too. Since he is now looking at you you suppose you should do the same. It is only customary, after all.

“Thank you… thank you.” You stutter, taking a good look at his features.

His five o'clock shadow is more prominent, only half of his being illuminated by the patio lights. The familiar dragon tattoo is as prominent as ever, but his hair is a dark black now. You wonder if Emma had anything to do with it. When you look at him, you start to think of her.

So you look back down at your feet. It hasn’t snowed in Tokyo yet. You are grateful it is not as cold.

“The weather here is great, though.”

Ken sighs, breathing in the night breeze, “Yeah...”

This time the silence is a little awkward, so you do not prolong it.

“Whose idea was it to install a koi pond and these patio lights?” You force a laugh, trying to make him smile again. It seems to work.

“Ah,” Ken brings a hand to the back of his head, scratching at his neck, “Sana had always wanted fish…, but Emma was allergic. So we had compromised to have them at Baji’s — so she could visit them.”

Your face pales a little at the mention of his daughter. You recall seeing pictures of her on Emma’s social media accounts. You had congratulated her briefly then went on about your day. Your mind had not even recalled her — how shitty of a person were you?

Ken breaks you out of your departure.

“I think the lights were Kazutora’s idea, though.”

You laugh at this, albeit an uncomfortable one. You knit your hands together. Maybe you should ask about her —he would not have brought it up if he did not want to.

“How is she?”

The koi fish in the pond move more rapidly as you pose the question, almost as though they felt the tension and wanted to relieve it. Ken pockets his hands and grins as he looks down at his reflection in the water, his eyes drifting from his, to yours.

“She’s doing alright. Left her at her friend’s house for a sleepover.”

You breathe a sigh of relief — one you did not realise you were holding. “That’s nice…”

You look around the scenery, trying to rack your mind for more conversation starters. You had not done this in a while — let alone consoling your once best-friend’s husband, who was now a widower. You were never really that close to Ken, you momentarily recall the few times you did interact; which happened to always be through Emma. You never quite had a problem with, you were happy for her — you truly were. Now that the one virgule connecting you both had gone, it was up to both of you to hang on to another. You wanted to be there —you knew Emma would have wanted that.

You don’t even realise the statement that leaves your mouth next is about her until it just slips out.

“She would’ve loved tonight.”

The dark-haired man only looks down, eyes solemn but a cheeky smirk plastered on his features. He chuckles, “She would’ve dragged me outta the house ‘cause I’d say no.”

You grab for his hand, noticing that the look in his eyes is all too similar to the one in yours.

“So why’d you say yes?”

Ken does not answer, but his fingers press deeper into your palm. Not enough to elicit blood — but it might as well have been.

“I— I don’t really know. I guess I thought it would make me feel better,” he laughs through a choke and you can only nod, knowing all too well how he feels. You don’t know how long you stand there, holding his hand in yours. A breeze you felt in Osaka bellows past you both.

Manjiro takes you back to his home, and you feel at peace — like you have done something right.

Osaka culture is dissimilar to Tokyo’s. Manjiro Sano is much different than The Invincible Mikey. But you were all the same.

A part of you thinks that is why the two of you attracted one another the way you did, many suns ago. Another irrational side of you believes that is why you have not been able to hold eye contact with Manjiro for longer than fifteen seconds since dinner at Keisuke’s home. You don’t know if you lack sexual appeal or if Manjiro’s libido has declined, but he has grown more… comfortable, around you, so to say; walking around with no shirt on and wearing sweatpants that hang too low on his waist.

To keep your mind occupied, you have taken on laundry duty.

You hum a tune to the melody your mama would sing to you sporadically throughout your adolescence, seated on the floor of Manjiro’s closet with his fresh laundry sprawled about the carpet.

Your phone rings. You take a look at it — it is an unknown caller. Craning an eyebrow, you finish folding the shirt you currently hold and pick it up.

“Hello?” You mutter into the speaker first.

The voice you hear makes your stomach drop. A heat begins to rise in your head.

“Y/n.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You take your phone off from your ear, check to see if you are actually currently in a call with someone, and put it back.

“…Ryuchi?”

An all too familiar exasperated sigh leaves the caller’s mouth. That is when you realise your assumptions were correct: your ex-fiancé is real and true.

“Fuck— Y/n, shit.”

Ryuchi utters your name like it is a disease — like it hurts his tongue. It is why you cannot put the phone down — why you cannot hang up.

“You know the fucking things I had to…—” his voice becomes a whisper, like he is trying to hide that he is conversing with you from someone, “you know how difficult it was to get a hold of you?”

You place a hand on your ankle, scratching at the scab there — willing it to open, “Ryuchi, why… Why are you calling?”

He doesn’t speak for three seconds, and it terrifies you. He always did that — when he was angry with you. He would never want to communicate until his emotions would reach their precipice and even then, it would require several pushes from you to draw his reactions. As such, those nudges had always led to him shifting the blame on you.

You had learned to live with it. Mama lived with Papa that way, before he left. But she was not allowed to leave first. She would have to stay until he did not want her anymore — and you would do the same thing with Ryuchi. Be it a hole to fuck or in those very soft, sentimental moments, a woman for him to hold — you would give your everything. You didn’t care about his wealth, you didn’t care about yourself. Why would you? He was everything — he was your World, it was how he wanted it so you would give it to him and not think twice.

Then, Ryuchi starts.

“Wha— What the fuck are you talking about?” He laughs, it sounds scary, “You— where the hell are you? Why— Why the fuck did you cancel your lease?”

You chew on your bottom lip. You hate how soft your voice comes out when you ask him again, “Ryuchi, why are you calling?”

A scoff, followed by a, “Do I need a reason to be calling my fuckin’ fiancée — are you kidding me?” rings on the telephone, but all you hear after the word fiancée is white noise.

You remember it vividly. How he had broken things off. You remember him calling you to buzz him up to your new apartment, the one you wanted him to move in with since he was still living in a bachelor’s flat with his friends. You remember opening the door to his solemn face — and you had remembered knowing that it had ended before he told you himself: ‘This is not going to work. Not anymore. Not with you.’ How could you ever forget those words?

You hadn’t cried. You hadn’t even felt mad. You just thought about the papers you had wasted printing your engagement cards. You thought about what everyone would think of you — thought about how mama would be so upset with you for not giving your life and soul to his relationship.

You had heard her voice that day. It was cold.

After a moment, you murmur a flat, “What?” Your breathing begins to pick up, “I… I thought—”

You don’t say anything else. You don’t really know how to. Ryuchi was smarter than you — right? He could pick up the pieces and fix the puzzle.

He does.

“Holy shit—,” he chuckles darkly, his tone then becoming mocking and impassive, “You— you thought I was being serious?”

You don’t realise the words that leave your mouth and escape his.

“You— You asked for the ring back, Ryuchi, Your— Your mother returned the wedding card—.. What— What was I supposed to think?”

“Yeah— yeah—, Cause I was stressed, Y/n. Mother had some qualms with you and I let her get to me. But, I’ve dealt with her now — all for you. I fought for us. Fights like this happen all the time — that... that doesn’t mean you can just get up and walk away.”

They all sound spiteful. You hate arguing. You just wanted to be good. You didn’t want him to do all of this for your sake. You did not need much, you do not know why Ryuchi insisted against that for the longest of times.

He always called you too naive for your own good: but you know what love is.

It is why, after the longest pauses of utter silence taken so far within this phone call, is when you murmur quietly, “Ryuchi, I— I.. I can’t... I.. can’t do this.”

He is on you, instantly.

“What do you mean you can’t?” His voice cracks. You don’t know what to make of it. “I—I miss you. Please. I love you. I love you, baby. You.. you can’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please come back to me — I’ll make it work.”

He can’t. You know he can’t. He’s never needed you, Ryuchi has only ever wanted you in his life. You cannot go back now.

You stare down silently at your hands, fisting Manjiro’s shirt in your palms. The door of the closet is cracked open, streaming in the yellow lighting of the bedroom. It is oddly warm, given the circumstance you find yourself trapped in, unable to move.

When you feel darkness impose on that, you lift your head up. Manjiro stands there, gazing down at your frame. His eyes fall on your cell phone, then on the clothing you crumple.

“Y/n.” Manjiro calls your name. It is soft. His eyebrows are furrowed and you could mistake his worry for how tightly you are gripping his favourite shirt, enough to leave wrinkles.

“Y/n.. please.. don’t do this.” Ryuchi’s whines ring into the speaker. They settle in your ears. Before it would have elated a fire in your stomach, but now it sends a chill up your spine.

You are a bit tired of feeling cold.

“Don’t call me anymore.”

You hang up, stare at Manjiro for a moment, before exiting the closet with his shirt in hand.

You go to the bathroom, and you cry into it. Manjiro doesn’t ask for it back.

You wonder late at night why he is so soft to you.

You think Manjiro began feeling bad for you. He would not leave you alone since the day Ryuchi had called. He’s started to clean up after himself: figuratively and literally. Whereas prior he would leave dish washing duty and laundry to you, you found he would pick up groceries for the dishes you’d plan to make that day — and an expensive brand of detergent you had been eyeing but never had the gall to request.

His steps were small, but left their marks in the ground. You felt supported and seen.

So, the next time he went shopping, you asked him if you could kindly join him. He had told you that if you’d asked sooner, he would have taken you to Tempozan Harbor Village for a picnic.

You refused, saying that your fresh home cooking tasted much better — he hadn’t disagreed — and you ended up going to Tamade Supermarket on a Monday afternoon. The last time you went there you were fifteen and in love with him.

It is funny. How things change.

“I like this shelf,” he states, pointing at a random wooden shelf displayed in the show room.

You nod awkwardly, “It’s a nice shelf.”

It is also nice to be talking to Manjiro like an adult. Although at heart you felt as though you had stopped mentally ageing at 19, it felt good: the idea that he had caught up with you in terms of getting around your hobby of window shopping appliances you can only dream to afford. You do not even care if you are being too loud in the department store. Manjiro made a detour on the way to the supermarket. It feels nice to take up space with someone else. You did not get much interaction like this in your youth; most of your time spent with him was passionate and lustful. Taking things slow was a wonderful change of pace, something you realise your adolescent self would have appreciated though refuted against.

You ponder more about your relationship, admiring the bonsai trees in the garden supplies aisle.

“Didn’t you have a thing for flowers or some shit?” Manjiro asks, pushing the cart up behind you.

You look at him incredulously, with an eyebrow raised in question, “Botany?”

He clicks his tongue, placing his elbows on the cart’s pushing bar and leaning forward.

“Yeah, that.”

“Yeah, well,” you huff a laugh, playing with the leaves of the tree gently, “a bachelor’s in botany is about as useful as a glass hammer.”

“Oh, so it’s shit, then?” Manjro asks rather forwardly.

You snort, and try correcting him. The auntie who strolls past you both looks at you with disgust and Manjiro only makes an even uglier face that makes her run away. “It’d take a lot of time and money. Neither of which I have.”

“That’s why you went into software?”

You think for a second. You look at the flowers you had wanted to plant all over Tokyo as part of your dream adult career when you were 6. How stupid you were, then. It was nice, it had always been better, back then — when you did not know how to tie your shoes or write your name properly in kanji.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

A silence befalls you both. You stand still in the shelves section of this sequestered furniture department store.

“Guess I’m lucky Shin left his shop for me,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say as a response.

Manjiro looks at you. Then he reaches for the shelf, cradling it like it is an infant. Your eyes crinkle up in amusement.

“I’m gettin’ this shelf.”

“Alright,” you huff. “Can we go to the market now?”

He smiles back. You bend your four fingers into your palm when you feel your heart begin to develop a rhythmic thumping against your chest at his expression.

You were not 15.

“Sure.”

But you sure wanted to be.

The next week, Manjiro went to work — and you had taken a long, good look at yourself in the mirror; assessing the damage.

A wrinkle would come on your forehead when you would smile. Crinkles would form near your eyes and at the corners of your lips, too, if you got too excited. Your skin was transparent — showcasing all your emotions whether you wanted it to or not. Truthfully, you preferred it that way. You had hidden too much of yourself when you were young — for no reason. Perhaps out of fear or embarrassment of being seen — is what you could possibly surmise as some reasons. Your features had also hardened since then, odd, considering how much softer you had morphed.

All of your youth, you spent resenting yourself. Too afraid to even look at yourself, at times. But, you were normal. You were not a monster — a pleasant surprise.

As you were eyeing yourself, your eyes hand landed on a pair of scissors in a cylindrical cup on a shelf over the toilet. You had then looked at yourself once more, before grabbing the scissors.

Manjiro comes home in the evening with groceries in hand. A small ‘tadaima’ leaves his lips as he takes his shoes off in the genkan. You appear in the dimly lit hallway, a part of you missing. His eyes, already on you the moment your frame turned the corner, enlarged. You feel your chest tighten and the familiar coil in your stomach tangle.

“You cut your hair,” he breathes softly, like it was a secret.

You approach him. He comes close to you. You are standing taller than he is on the elevated flooring of his home. You smile, a delicate one. “He always preferred long, but I never did.”

A pregnant pause follows. That was the first time you had brought up Him ever since that encounter in the closet. At least voluntarily. You can see Manjiro’s chest deflate, almost as though he had been holding his breath for you to set him free, ever since that day. A part of you hurts at the notion that he still cared for you. Another, more selfish and attention-starved piece of you thrived.

The clock you purchase him ticks. Manjiro’s nose is red and his eyes are wet from the cold. You see him lift up his hand — it is shaking but you do not stop him or inform him of that.

He cups your cheek. His hands are cold against your warmth. He murmurs, softly and true, “You look nice.”

You look down, suddenly feeling like a teenager again.

“Thank—Thank you…”

Manjiro’s actions do not register in his mind until your discomposure. He looks at his hand like he has committed a crime and snatches it away. You are troubled by how much his disappearance bothers you.

“Sorry— I—.”

“It’s okay,” You cut him off halfway, giving him a tight-lipped smile. What were you thinking was going to happen? You grab the grocery bags he had set down and walk inside. “I’ll start dinner.”

It is not after dinner he touches you again. It is late in the night, when the moon has reached its high and the cicadas reach their crescendo. You are laid on the tatami, turned on your side and admiring the melting snow on the sakura trees outside. Your head lays on your left arm, the right one traces patterns into your own skin.

You feel someone behind you. You turn, and see Manjiro.

His gaze reads sorrowful. The rims of his eyes are red. Though he is shirtless and resembles a man, he looks like he is eighteen again when he cries like this, in front of you. It has only ever happened once, when you saw him like this. You had run into him, rather than the other way around — like this.

Manjiro had grown mad. You had grown scared. You were both so stupid and naive back then.

You sit up, your covers bunching at your waist as they fall. You call for him, your tone only but a whisper.

“Manjiro,” you call for him, the clouds finally parting, letting the moonlight flow into the quaint living room and paint his features.

You knew it was coming — it was only a matter of time. Heated stares shared across the too large kotatsu, limbs entangling underneath for ‘warmth’ — they were all a rouse.

A teardrop falls onto your face, as the last sakura petals of Spring shake off the tree branch outside, and meet their wilted brothers and sisters on the dull green of the grass.

“Y/n…” He speaks, ever so softly, as though afraid of breaking through your skin.

Manjiro sounds so sad. He bends onto his knees in front of you. You stare into his brown. A shiver runs down your spine, from both the cold and his close presence. You had realised you had been mentally awaiting for this to happen. It was only natural — like moths to a flame. Suddenly, the tatami mat beneath you is non-existent. You feel like you are floating — like you are in Mr. Nakamoto’s linear algebra classroom, about to receive your first kiss from the boy who’s ruffian behaviour scared you, before. Looking at him now — ten years after heartbreak and uprooting your life — only now you have realised his softness.

“Yes?” You whisper, knowing it was too late — but also knowing Manjiro would never care. It would never bother him like it would to you.

“Y/n,” his voice cracks, he places his hands around your frame, encompassing you everywhere. He calls for you again, his voice only a whisper — almost as though Manjiro were afraid that if he were to raise it any louder you would leave him once more, “Y/n.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, laying down as he begins to move over your frame and bring your covers up, “it’s alright.”

You take Manjiro into your arms; his sharp teeth at your neck, his warm hands feverishly running up the cold skin of your stomach under his shirt you wear, his blonde hair in your fingers, him, inside of you and you holding onto him for dear life — irrevocably — and he leans into them.

His introspection arrives the morning after he has laid with you — it comes gently and ordinarily. You would not have even known he was opening up to you, if not for the seldom look-aways and hiccups he’d let out every now and again. Metaphorical, of course. But they might as well have been real — it’s too easy for you to discern them.

It scares you, the idea of being a form of his recluse.

You wake up, and he is already staring at you. Your cheek rests on his bicep. His eyes form into crescent moons when you look at him. A warmth rises to your cheeks. You unconsciously hide your hands underneath the covers.

Some birds are chirping outside: for some reason they have not gone to warmer climates. Manjiro is still staring at you — like you are hiding something. You gaze at him, your lips lifting up at the side, unable to hide your amusement and giddiness for some reason. You feel like a small child in his arms; like an excited seventeen year old who had passed their driving test with his guidance. You feel like you were always meant to be here — next to him.

It feels nice. Which is why it confuses you when he asks.

“What?”

You hum. “Hm?”

“You’re hiding something,” he says.

“Huh? What?”

Manjiro grabs at your hands covered by the blanket. He finds the top and kneads it with his thumb. It sends a thumping to your chest.

He grins at you, curious, as he questions, “What’s in your hands?”

Your eyes widen, ever so slightly. Manjiro was always watching you. Usually attention would bother you. You hated explaining yourself. But his attention elicits a warmth in your stomach that sends the same pleasure as drinking a warm cup of coffee.

You think your cheeks are dark as you murmur, a small, “Nothing.”

Manjiro clutches your hands in his, smiling. “Then why do you keep hiding them like that?”

“Have I?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, rustling a little under the covers. The duvet falls to expose his bare stomach. Suddenly you grow hyper aware of the fact that you are both naked. You are even more shocked to find yourself not caring to know the whereabouts of your underwear.

“S’been driving me insane. Thinking you’ve stolen something of mine.”

You feel yourself smiling from one side. “If I had you wouldn’t have found out so easily.”

“Hn.”

You laugh a little at the tiny sound of hesitancy and distrust. Manjiro was so cute. You rustle under the covers, pressing your hands closer to your chest. You hold them together. They are cold against your breasts, and when you press them too hard to the bite and kiss marks left over your skin by the man you lay with, you feel yourself growing shy under his gaze.

“It’s… a habit,” you measly whisper, “I don’t know why.”

Manjiro places a hand on your cheek, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Yeah, you do.”

You sigh and look away. “It’s silly.”

Manjiro brings your face back down to look at him. He looks so serious. You don’t know whether to be flustered or afraid. Perhaps both.

“Tell me.”

You cast your gaze downwards. It was stupid.

“I— ah, you know,” you swallow, “Haruchiyo… used to tease how stubby my fingers were.” You explain, purposefully letting out the part he was involved in. Although you had lost the baby fat and were 29, you do not know why your brain chose to hold onto such an inane insult. You were barely 11 when you were told that. How come you do not remember the good things?

Manjiro looks at you with guilt. Your eyes widen. He remembers, too. You look down, again — feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up in the first place.

“I— uh— it’s whatever…, I also never liked my hands.”

He shakes his head, and rests his forehead in the crook of your neck and shoulder. You still.

“Shit,” he grunts, arms wrapping around your frame, “I’m a dumbass.”

You feel your heart jump. You don’t think it’s ever done that before. You like how rough Manjiro’s hands feel against your skin.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, reluctantly bringing a hand up to brush the back of his hair.

He slightly pulls away, looking into your eyes. You feel his feet brush your ankle.

“It’s not, though.” he says, “How could I—,” Manjiro stops himself midway.

He continues to look at you. You feel his eyes travel to your cheeks, the mark under your eye he gave you accidentally when you were 13 and taking turns jumping into a neighbourhood lake you stumbled upon (he had pushed you in because you were afraid — scraped your face against a rock — you had never seen him look so regretful and scared). You look at him — at the light stubble on his chin, the scars running on his cheeks, be it from his time as a delinquent in his youth or from motorcycle work at the shop he runs right now. You wonder where all the others came from while you were gone. You’d gotten up and left — right when you were getting to know each other. You have no one but yourself to blame, and yet he looks at you like you were a martyr who could do no wrong.

“God, I was a dumbass.” He rasps, sweet and true. He leans in closer. You lean in, too.

He holds you so gently, it makes it so easy to forget whatever you had been worried about before your reunion. Warm thumbs brush your cold cheeks — you feel small but you can burst through the seams from this warmth.

“How could I have not seen how beautiful you were?”

His lips brush yours and his voice is raspy smooth when he asks the rhetorical question. You blush and tilt back. Your eyes shift to the open engawa behind him, to Manjiro’s face. You lift your hands from underneath the covers, and place them on top of his.

“You like me.” You soundly state.

“Yeah,” Manjiro admits, “yeah I do. I like you very much. But you don’t need to worry. That’s something I have to deal with.”

His confession elicits something in you. Something that seemed to have been festering for a while, waiting to be awakened by only him. You feel safe. You do not want to run away. Manjiro knows exactly what to say.

The admission causes a silence to fall. You break it by opening your mouth and spewing nonsense, as you usually do.

“I… also used to make fun of you.”

Manjiro grins. You blush. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Used to misplace your things when you’d piss me off.” You say, staring up at him through your eyelashes. That was your rebellious phase. Albeit, that had only occurred once — you did not want Manjiro to feel alone in his guilt.

He laughs. You smile. It is that simple.

“That makes us both idiots, then.” He murmurs, leaning in closer. Your lips touch each other, and you are 15 again, in his arms.

“I guess so,” You whisper through a smile, and return it ten-fold — a warm mouth melting you away softly.

February arrives carrying a similar breeze. Snow is starting to melt and Manjiro’s garden is beginning to blossom. You make love in his living room, bedroom, and the shower — when he is busy. You also procured a part-time job at a local firm to finally have the money to purchase your own clothes, instead of lounging in Manjiro’s garments all the time. He leaves often in the afternoons, rarely in the mornings — but he always comes back to you in the evenings. You prepare breakfast, lunch and dinner — but this time an odd sense of romantic domesticity is involved in all of your gestures and being around him. Manjiro is clingy, you have come to find out. In his youth his affections were scarce — but so were yours. You were both scared, hiding your love from one another — maybe out of embarrassment, you presume? Now, he is older and so are you. Manjiro’s hands find themselves around you any and every time you are near him.

It is lovely.

Currently, it is 6:45pm. You are in his closet, arranging his clothes once more. Your eyes land on a box hidden away deep on the lowest level of his shelf. You crane an eyebrow. It has a feminine, intricate design of bellflowers etched into the wood. You note the initials K and E also carved on its top. You reach for it and open it. Your heart falls.

“Found anything interesting?” Manjiro’s voice pierces the silence.

You jump and look towards the door. Much like the day he found you speaking to Ryuchi, he is standing there in his work clothes. Your eyes fall on his face. He does not seem mad. If anything, he seems relieved — almost as though he had left this box out in the open for you to find.

“You’re home,” you breathe.

Manjiro drops the bag in his right hand. He enters the closet and closes the door behind him, sitting down on his knees close to you and placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. You make a noise between a choke and a grunt, but he only caresses your face.

“I’m home,” he whispers softly to you.

You look down at the box resting in your lap. Manjiro’s hands rest on yours, and guide you towards the lock to open it. You look up and gaze at him with uncertainty. He only nods.

“Open it. It’s meant for you.” He encourages, letting go of your hands.

You stare down at the box. Something in your mind tells you that you know it is yours. You open it, and it is true. Silent for a moment, you gaze down at the countless number of bottle caps — from soda and milk brands back in the day — and your stomach twists at how familiar they all look to you.

Then, you remember why that is.

“I can’t believe she still had this…” You murmur. You look up at Manjiro. He looks down into the box and rests a hand on your left one. It is only when he does that that you realise that you had been shaking.

“What is it?”

“Bottle caps,” you utter, breathlessly, “Emma and I… we—we’d buy each other drinks on Wednesdays. A midweek reward,” your voice starts to crack, “I—I’d put aside money from my tutoring job for it.”

The idea that for over a decade, the girl who you thought forgot about you — did not care for you or wonder about you — kept such an odd presence of your reminder in such a delicate box that you know meant a lot to her (the first present Ken has bought her when they started dating), makes you want to cry. You can’t though. Not with him around.

The walk-in closet suddenly feels too small. The tiniest of whimpers leaves your throat. Manjiro cups your cheek again, grounding you from the panic you feel.

“She always cared for you. But, that doesn’t mean she was mad. She was never mad.” He softly speaks.

You can’t say much to that. Emma is dead. She will not even know that you came back for her. You think Manjiro senses that, because he drops it. You set the box down and lean against the shelf, and he copies your actions. Your shoulders are touching. You look down into the box and decide that perhaps organising these bottle caps will make you feel better.

You start putting them into groups on the carpeted floor of the closet. You can feel Manjiro’s eyes on you. A couple of minutes pass just like this, the only sound being the occasional metal of the caps hitting each other and the rain hitting the windows from outside.

“Have you ever been in love?” Manjiro asks.

The question oddly does not take you aback. You reckon that he deserves to know. “I guess… I mean… I was engaged.”

Manjiro’s body stiffens beside you. You continue organising the bottle caps.

“His name was Ryuchi. He was friends with my old roommate's boyfriend.” you murmur, eyebrows furrowed as you recall your past, “I—I don’t even talk to any of them anymore.”

Looking towards Manjiro, you find him already staring at you. You note his hand formed into a fist, and look away.

“I think I liked his smile, so I gave it a try. His mother never liked me,” you laugh a little — not quite out of amusement, “He broke it off in my apartment after four years. A Sunday.”

“I’ll kill him,” Manjiro growls.

You turn your head to look at him and weakly smile. You place your hand over his fist, and it unfolds to grab at your fingers and intertwine them together.

“He’s… not in my life anymore. That’s that.”

“I am.” Manjiro reminds you softly with an accusatory tone of voice. It itself is so contradictory it makes you smile; makes your heart flutter.

You shift closer, so your elbows are touching. Your exposed thighs press up against his. “Yes, you are.”

“Were you upset?”

You move a little in your spot, sighing. “I mean, obviously.”

“Are you still upset?”

“I—I dunno.”

A weird part of you feels relieved, another part wants to murder him and another smaller part wants to die. But you do not say any of that to Manjiro. It feels too weird. The topic shifting from his dead sister to your deadbeat ex-fiancé feels too much.

“But enough about that,” you change the topic, tightening your hold around his hand, “What ‘bout you?”

“Yeah,” Manjiro admits, keeping eye contact with you and coming in even closer. “I have.”

“Oh,” your breath hitches, and you murmur a very awkward, “nice.”

Manjiro is close to your ear. You can feel him breathing down your neck. You shiver. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

He presses his forehead against yours, playing with a strand of your hair with his index finger and thumb.

“Y/n…”

He kisses you gently, laying you down softly against the carpet. Hot palms brush the bare skin of your stomach, kissing down your neck — leaving small little messages in their wake. A small mewl of defeat escapes your mouth, which he swallows all too easily— all too greedily. Manjiro is everywhere around you, all at once, shielding you from everything and anything in the small little closet of all his and your belongings. A shirt comes off, then your socks. Fists meet hair and you have never felt so alive despite the incessant biting at your skin and clashing of teeth.

I missed you. Each one seems to speak to you. Never leave me again. They beg.

But — something bigger leaves his mouth. Like a monster that had been hiding in your closet all along — hiding in the garden shed since that very day you met the bane of your existence — something you tried desperately avoiding. You start to cry but only clutch onto him harder, because you had always had a fondness for the ugly creatures in life.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

#fem reader #rapture #writing #manjiro sano x reader #mikey sano x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro x reader

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starrywooyo · 1 year

Text

treasure: one

synopsis: when y/n gets whooshed into an alternate universe, an adventure: one with pirates and monsters and much, much more

pairing: ot8! pirate ateez x fem! reader

genre: pirate au!!

!!warnings(per chapter)!! - descriptions of death, blood, wounds, abuse and assault [bellow cut!]

notes: I got this idea from a couple of my favourite movies: pirates of the Caribbean and the chronicles of Narnia

word count: 3.4k

masterlist:

main masterlist:

| next chapter

Boring.

That is the way you'd describe the day you're having.

stuck in the old ‘ancient’ mansion of a house in the countryside that your grandparents own. and the worst of all: no internet. How are you gonna listen to your favourite music group and keep up with them? plus you've got your transfer student opportunity coming up

what are you supposed to do for the entirety of the time you're staying with them whilst your parents are away on their ‘business trip’ again. it's always no sooner that they are back, that they leave again.

Now don't get it wrong. you love your grandparents but it would be much better if your parents left you back at home where you have your friends and internet actual Wi-Fi so you can do things. but no. you're stuck here with your younger and older siblings.

...

So here you are sitting in the library reading some random book you picked, sprawled along the couch with your older brother sitting at the opposite side of the room at a table trying to read but being pestered by your younger brother and sisters.

‘The ship swayed side to side, waves splashing over the deck.

bodies littered the deck from the opposing crew.

blood everywhere.

the injured pirate captain stands. blood oozing from his wounds,

he picks up his sword and then…’

you're pulled from your book with your younger brother's whines and you sigh again watching the argument.

“Come on James, play with us. we're bored by ourselves..” your younger brother pushed for what seemed to be the 100th time.

James sighed

“Please Callum go bother Y/n or someone else... I'm trying to study,” James explained.

And so with that your siblings turned to you with hopeful eyes, just before you could say anything your Grandma popped her head in the door.

“oh come on now dears, you both have been in here all day nearly, would it hurt to spend some time with each other? tell you what. why don't you all play a game hmm? Maybe outside like tag or ball if not that then this is a very big house with lots of places to hide” she looks at each of you with her hinting.

“you know your parents used to love playing hide and seek here, Y/n. James, you did too so why don't you play with your siblings and give them the fun of exploring the house too?” your grandma said.

you look at your siblings and James pipes up.

“I'll join only if Y/n does”

you sighed bookmarking your book, you stand keeping it with you.

“fine.”

James nods “okay then, you all can hide and I will count”

...

wandering the halls, the voice of James counting to 100 gets more distant. you walk by old paintings and other weird artefacts your grandparents keep.

you come to a stop at a random door, quite far from James and hopefully your younger siblings. opening the door you find most of the furniture still covered with dust sheets, you figure this room was long forgotten due to the old paint cans still laying around. oh well. at least you've got some quiet to read your book for a while.

peeling back the sheet on the lounge couch you brush off any dust that could be there and make yourself comfortable and reopen your book getting lost in the pages..

you don't know how long you've been in this room but you find yourself still to be hidden or either forgot about. closing your book you finally decide to take a look around the room.

It's a huge, spacious room with all its furniture covered. the walls a simple cream colour and wooden floorboards with a large bay and stained glass window and a writing desk placed where the light shines. all in all not much to the room. it was probably going to be a private study for someone..

What catches your interest though is the large painting on the wall, it's a beautiful painting of the ocean, a ship adorning the waves on the canvas. you find yourself drawn to the painting.

it almost looks as though the waves are actually moving, but that would be crazy.... right?

water suddenly starts pouring out from the painting.

you laugh. you're most definitely seeing things. this isn't real. it wasn't till the water level started rising you began to panic. you yank the door handle to open the door. it stays shut. since when was the door locked!!?

the water now just below your chest: the window! The Height of the room was only the second floor. You could jump from this height, no problem! the window doesn't open.

the room seemingly seems to get smaller, is that ship getting closer in the painting?

The water level still rising, you take a deep breath as the water covers you.

the wooden furniture starts to float around you.

you begin to swim up to get the last bit of air before it disappears. this was it. you were going to drown.

reaching the surface. you find the blue sky above your head and you in the ocean.

you quickly swim to the writing table to hold onto to keep you afloat. The water is freezing.

looking around you see the large ship coming your way.

“Man overboard!” and someone jumps in the water and swims towards you.

you get dropped onto the deck, the water dripping from you.

you're surrounded by a group of men.

“Now, now. what do we have 'er” a man walked through the group. a large hat on his head.

ah. pirates.

He puts his sword under your chin and lifts your head. and hums

“a woman? now what shall we do with you eh..” he says.

a crew member pipes up.

“Captain, all do respect but we can't 'ave a woman onboard the ship. it's dangerous and a bad omen too might i add” he says.

Bad omen? who does this ass think he is.

the captain nods his head.

“hmm you're right. We are headed to land. suppose we could sell 'er and get some shillings for her. throw er in the brig” the captain says with a smirk on his face.

a song of ‘aye aye's’ follow and you are grabbed by 2 muscular men and dragged down the steps of the ship.

you struggle and yell your demands to be let go, which go unheard, as you're thrown into the wet damp cell under the ship. It stinks. the leaked water sloshes as the ship moves on the water, slowly you feel yourself become seasick. you clearly don't have sea legs yet.

...

the ship coming to a rough stop jolts you awake, the cell door flung open. you're grabbed up to your feet by the captain and your hands are tied.

“Sorry 'bout this missy. you'll forgive me right?” he smirks showing his disgusting teeth.

you're then dragged off the deck, to the dock and dragged through whatever place you're in now.

you tug on your restraints but to no avail and get yanked back.

you're then pulled into some shop by the captain and he talks to the man at the desk.

“Ahhh how can I help ya captain, here to buy?” the man with glasses asks

the captain laughs

“no, not this time, i'm actually here to sell” he gestures to you “her”

the man leans over the desk to get a better look at you.

“ooh she's a beauty she is. sell for a fine price she will captain. But what's with her clothes eyy?” the glasses man asked.

the captain scans over you.

“d'know found her like that in the water, must've been shipwrecked or sumthin” he said

The glasses man nods his head.

“very well captain. sale is in 2 days if yer staying, she'll definitely sell, then you'll get yer money don't worry.”

the captain nods back, handing over the rope to the men standing at the door and you get pulled into a different room.

the rope on your wrist gets untied, maybe you could escape you thought. but that idea was soon out the moment a gun got pressed to you and told if you ran you'd get shot.

one of the men shove a small pile of clothes in your hand.

“go behind there. get dressed. no funny business”

and so, not wanting to lose your life you do as told.

standing behind the sheet you strip yourself of your ‘modern’ clothes, putting on the ripped, tattered skirt you were given and white shirt tucked in. you exit from behind the sheet and then dragged into another room. one full of other women. some sleeping, some awake and others crying and scared. you're forced to sit down and chains are put around your ankles and your wrists and the men then leave the room.

you look around the room scanning the other woman: some are older than you, some far far younger. and you look over the woman you see that some are bruised and marked up with hickeys and all sorts.

...

your eyes open and you sit up. a sharp pain shoots through your neck and back. as it would be sleeping on a hard floor for a few days.

The glasses man walks through the door and starts picking women at random, some screaming shouts of disagreement and the others complying willingly.

he stops in front of you. “her too” and yet again you're getting dragged out of the room. you're then sat in a chair and a woman comes and puts some make-up on your face and does your hair. The finishing touch was the corset that was put on your waist and tightened up so much. but now you see why they did it. your chest was pushed together and appeared to be much bigger than it was.. clearly to get attention of woman hungry men.

the chains were placed back on your feet and hands. and you were put to follow the other woman outside to the square in the middle of the town. already a crowd of men standing waiting to see whom or what they can buy.

you're forced onto your knees and one by one the man goes down the line and starts to show off and sell the others. and then it was you.

you were dragged to the front and put to your knees again.

“Now, now. isn't this one a beauty?” the man asked the crowd and cheers of agreement erupted.

you zone out as the man starts listing ‘features’ about you trying to entice the buy.

this was it. I'm actually going to get sold off as a slave you thought. you zoned back in to what was happening.

“now d'we have any takers? she'll make a lovely slave and play thing if you'd like” the man asked finally going to sell you off.

“we'll take her for 10,000 pieces of gold!” someone in the crowd yells out

the man smirks 'sold' and with that you're dragged away.

... [ ??? pov ]

Here we are again on this forsaken horrible island, walking through these empty streets.

there's a crowd just at the square from what i can see..

so i dragged my crewmate along with me to see what all the commotion was about. peeking through the taller men we can see it's a sale, not just any sale. they're selling people. I expected nothing less from this place.

as we watch them go through more and more woman and people...

“now d'we have any takers? she'll make a lovely slave and play thing if you'd like” the salesman asked. That's when I snapped.

my hand shoots in the air “we'll take her for 10,000 pieces of gold!” Then the sales man shouted: sold!.

my hand is then snatched from the air and I'm dragged a bit away.

“Are you crazy? 10,000 gold. Captain’s really gonna kill you this time”

“well i'd like to see him try either way-” I'm cut off by the man bringing the girl over to us.

“Here you are, gentleman. one slave” my jaw clenches as he says that ‘slave’ I hate that word. “and the gold?” he asks on top of that.

“You'll get your gold, we have to take her to our captain first” I tell him.

the man looks between the two of us “no, no, no. You must think I'm stupid. gold first then the girl is yours.”

my crewmate then laughs and takes his turn to speak.

“don't you know who our captain is?” he laughs and he points to our ship's flag. the man's eyes light up in fear and he starts to shake a bit.

“a-ah ah, y'know what. you can give us the gold l-later. tell yer captain there's no r-rush” and the man shoves the girl and proceeds to hurry away.

the girl stumbles from the push and I catch her in my arms. She's quick to try and get away though. She shoves me away and tries to run. only to stumble over the chains still around her ankles.

“Wow, hey hey hey. it's okay we're not gonna hurt you” i tell her. I take my jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders to cover her from the peeping eyes of the men walking by due to her skimpy clothing the slave house has put her in.

“you're okay. you'll be safe with us. don't worry” I try to reassure her again.

My crewmate tugs at my shirt. “hey we need to get her back to the ship now. get those chains off and I need to treat those wounds” he points to them.

my attention was brought back to her. and i start to notice the bruises on her legs and ankles and the numerous cuts that litter her body as well as the blood that's now dripping from her knees from the fall. I wince. I kneel down at her level and she still tries to get away.

“hey, you're gonna need to come with us okay? we need to get you back to our ship and treat your wounds. Would it be okay for me to carry you?” I asked her.

she seems to go into deep thought and then seems to clutch my jacket around her slightly and nods her head. and so I scoop her up into my arms and then begin to walk back to the ship. as I walk the chains around her legs clink together.

it's quiet, so i decide to ask her name.

“I'm Wooyoung by the way. and my crewmate here is San. he's our medic so he'll treat your wounds once we get to the ship. Can I know your name?” I smile at her. The smile slightly falls as she stays quiet. and so the walk continues for a while.

“Y/n..” a quiet voice whispers. I hum in confusion wondering if she even spoke at all.

“my name.. its Y/n..” she says.

y/n.. what a pretty name

... [ y/n pov ]

Once the man called out sold, I'm grabbed to my feet and pulled towards two men. one tall man with broad shoulders and black hair, the other more slim and smaller too with blonde hair. both wearing similar clothes and hats adorning their heads.

ah more pirates. great...

they both seemed to be deep in conversation before noticing us. the man yanks me closer causing more pain to my bare feet as they scuff the hard stony ground. I can't help the fear that shoots through me at that moment.

What do these men want with me? What will happen to me? Will I ever get home at this rate?

“Here you are, gentleman. one slave” the man gestures to me. you feel small under the two men's gaze. you see the blonde man's jaw visibly clench. making him appear slightly scary.

“and the gold?” he adds, holding out his hand to receive his gold?

“You'll get your gold, we have to take her to our captain first” the blonde man says.

the salesman chuckles and pulls me closer to him “no, no, no. You must think I'm stupid. gold first then the girl is yours.”

the black haired man laughs

“don't you know who our captain is?” he points to a ship's flag in the distance. the salesman's eyes light up in fear and he starts to tremble a bit.

“a-ah ah, y'know what. you can give us the gold l-later. tell yer captain there's no r-rush” the man said and shoves me away as he himself runs away. I fall into the arms of the blonde guy and he wraps his arms around me.

is their captain really that scary for people to run away I really don't wanna meet this guy

and so I push the blonde's arms away and attempt to run, forgetting my chains around my ankles soon falling to the hard ground as my legs get caught up in the chains. I hiss as the ground rips the skin from my knees. Still on my knees I begin to feel small again under the gazes of the men passing by looking at me. I'm practically wearing next to nothing.

“Wow, hey hey hey. it's okay we're not gonna hurt you” the blonde man says as he takes his jacket off and slightly bends as he drapes it over my shoulders.

“you're okay. you'll be safe with us. don't worry” the blonde says again.

will I though..?

I stayed quiet and noticed the black haired man tugging at the blondes shirt sleeve.

“Hey, we need to get her back to the ship now. get those chains off and I need to treat those wounds” he tells him and points to me and at the wounds on my body.

the blonde man looks back at me and scans me, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he lets out a wince. he then kneels to my level

“hey, you're gonna need to come with us okay? we need to get you back to our ship and treat your wounds. would it be okay for me to carry you?” he asked me.

Will it really be safe to go with these men?

Can I trust them?

they don't really seem bad in my opinion compared to the pirates and men I've already encountered...

only time will tell and besides its more so the captain i'm afraid to meet from the salesman reaction.

What will this guy be like?

it would still be better than here i hope. I found myself clutching his jacket slightly tighter. He did put it around me to cover me.. so I nod at the blonde.

He then scoops me up in his arms and holds me close as my own arms go around his neck. and The two men start to walk in what I assume is the direction to said ship.

it's too quiet

All I can hear is the stones crunching under the pairs feet and the blondes breathing. until the blonde pipes up.

“I'm Wooyoung by the way. and my crewmate here is San. he's our medic so he'll treat your wounds once we get to the ship. can i know your name?” he asked and gives you a smile that slightly falters as I stay quiet.

you slightly glance at the black haired man

hmm San..? San a medic I didn't think he'd be a doctor.. he looks so scary.

i then look to the blonde man

woo...young? wooyoung hmm nice...

As the walk continues you find your tense body slightly relaxed in Wooyoung's hold. his scent calming you.

“y/n…” I quietly let out.

he looks down at me and hums slightly confused

“my name... its y/n…” I say again but a tad bit louder.

he smiles again and nods his head a bit

The walk shortly comes to an end not long after.

“well 'ere we are” he says and a grand ship comes into view. It's a dark wooden boat and upon the main mast in the wind a black flag with the words "ateez" in white lettering.

from here it looks like a beautiful ship, well kept. not much damage from what you'd expect on a pirates ship.

and written on the backside of the stern of the ship

‘illusion’

previous | next chapter

a/n: so!! i hope you all like the start of this little series i'll be doing, feel free to reblog and or just leave your thoughts! till next chapter, byeee!!

#ateez x reader #ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #wooyoung x reader #ateez pirate au #pirates #starrywooyo #starrywooyo fics #ateez fanfiction #starrywooyo treasure series

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clementineskesh · 1 year

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Transcript:

Here we go again, Baldwin Home AKA Black Screen AKA Mister I Wish You Would AKA Sovereign Community AKA Crysanth Kush AKA All the News That's Fit To Sprint Up To You In The Streets And Tell You What's Really Real, delivering another message to the masses:

You already know what it is!

And I don't mean that rhetorically. You ain't heard the news.

You lived it!

(from far away) Hey, Black, why do they call it the Bontive Valley?

(close to the mic) They call it the Bontive Valley ‘cause the harvests are high yielding. And bit by bit, they're coming back into hand.

We're talking more crops. We're talking our land.

After all, we worked it for

how many thousand years? For

how many glass Dukes? We cried

how many midnight tears?

It ain't worth it to do the damn calculus. They'll just tell us we needed to use trigonometry instead.

“Your numbers aren't right. It wasn't really exploitation.”

So let me do some simple subtraction:

Three minus three is dead.

Y’all sent out your shooters

from your crystalline castle

from your beige coloured campus

from your jewel-encrusted church.

Well, I got news, I’m the paperboy, open up

front page story

your shooters was flawed, your Duchess a fraud, and we're really, really them.

And I know what you're thinking.

I know where your mind's at.

You're ready to punch back. You’re gonna find out who caused you all of this pain.

Poor Stargrave, finger on the trigger

poor prophet, dig a little deeper

poor Mr. Entrepreneur,

we've opened a door

and you're facing it for

the first time

ever.

We made you imagine

a whole world

without you. Now, get this.

We do that

every

single

day.

And it ain't just a vision, it ain’t pipe dreams and conversation, it ain’t blue sky hypothetical, it’s really, really real. All that talk

all that violence yet our energy remains.

We're vibrant while you piss poor tyrants got tired just holding our chains.

#palisade #friends at the table #f@tt #baldwin home aka black screen i love you so much #the anaphora in this is just *chef's kiss*#also i thought he was doing 'Black comedian white person voice' but after listening a bunch #i think it's also his keith character voice?? JHDFSJHFS

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makriiii · 10 months

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Wary accord (Arthur morgan × f!reader)

Summary: Invited to Angelo Bronte's garden party, you couldn't see anything fairing well. However, as the evening fades to night, and nothing goes wrong, you let yourself enjoy it more than you planned.

Word count: 3.4k

Authors notes: This is just a one-shot with heavily referenced themes from my ongoing series rn - Caught. I had to take a break from writing hardcore and unadulterated angst. ☠️ I'm also open to any suggestions, so send them in! ;)

Warnings/tags: Lots of fluff, 90% sfw, mentions of wounds, guns, some angst.

Ao3!

Pt1 to Caught!

♡

Wary Accord.

Jack ran into his fathers arms with glee, you were just as happy as he was that he was safe and okay.

You were sure this night would've ended in blood shed. Instead, you begrudgingly had to do Bronte's dirty work, handling some grave robbers with Arthur and John.

You didn't much enjoy partaking in being nothing more than a lackey, especially for someone like Angelo Bronte. This made even worse when you heard what Dutch had to say.

"Mr. Bronte has invited us to a garden party at the mayors house." He announced, still seeming unbelieving in the invite himself whilst he chuckled. "And us, just simple country folk."

This didn't delight you, fully willing to stay behind that day if you could, but you feared something might go awry and it'd be best if you were there to help. You felt much with Arthur and John there. Plus, that Dutch. He has his way with his words, and you trusted those words.

You'd been busy helping Pearson all day, the whispers of dusk finally upon the camp. Ready to relax, you sat up against a tree near Hosea looking forward to dinner when you were suddenly startled awake by Dutch.

"Come on!" He shrieked, "If we are gonna make it to this party, we sure as shit better clean up a little."

The party. You'd completely forgotten about the party. Your original plans for the night squandered.

"So we're doing this?" Arthur asks, disbelieving you were to actually attend.

"Oh yeah." Hosea acknowledged. "Old friend Dutch Van der linde has finally shown his true colours." He teases.

Hosea could always make you smile, if not full on laugh. "Social climbing." He states flatly.

"Old Signor Bronte, that horrendous snake has invited us to the ball, Cinderella." He addressed to Arthur. You'd be sure to tease him with that later on.

"So my suggestion is we go and get you a gown." He chuckles, Hosea laughing along with him.

While they walk by, you try not to catch attention, putting ur hat lower over your face, to which Hosea comes over and flicks it off.

"You too y/n. We don't want to insult Mr. Bronte." Hosea chimes in front of you chuckling softly.

You got up hesitantly to travel into town with them, knowing your fate long since been sealed.

Your mares gait matched Arthur's. It wasnt long since you had made it into town with a group of people you never saw yourself attending a ball with.

"Arthur?" You glance to your side to see if you had his attention.

His eyes met yours instantly when you asked his name oh-so-calmly. "What is it?"

"Have you been to a ball before?"

"No," he gives you an airy laugh. "Not too many people like me have."

"Well, I hope you know how to behave then." You poked fun at him, your usual goal.

"Yeah? And what would you know about behaving?"

"More than you I reckon. We'll see who gets booted out quickest."

"Deal." He jokes, nodding with a funny look on his face.

"You know, I hope it's not too costly, I don't see another occasion that I'll use a dress again." You murmured, trailing off into your thoughts, counting the money you had now in your head.

"I can see that," he coughs a laugh out, looking you up and down. "I've never seen you in somethin' so fancy."

Your brows furrow, knowing the meaning behind his tease.

"I'd like to see you run around in a thick skirt, Morgan. I don't think you'd be so tough anymore." A grin splits across your face as the image of him with a skirt on whilst chasing someone down on foot crosses your mind.

"You doubt me too much." He fights back a small smile that tugs at his lips. "I could outdo you first try."

You started giggling when the little Arthur in your head tripped over and tumbled in response to his bet.

He raises a brow, questioning your sudden fit of laughter with just a glance.

"You wanna take me up on that offer? We'll race." Then, you thought of bringing heels into the equation.

You stopped him before he went to speak in between wheezes, adding the heels into the challenge. Now he didn't look so confident.

"If you can find a pair of heels that would fit me." He couldn't help but give up on his faked seriousness, all while you couldn't contain yourself.

You looked down to his feet, wiping tears from your eyes as you observe his feet.

"Don't think there's any that'd fit your fat feet."

"Well then, You're outta' luck ain't ya."

You exhaled sharply, calming your chest after all that cackling. "But we have to find the perfect slipper for you, Cinderella."

"Oh, shut it-" He pauses mid sentence to point to a store with dresses and suits on display. "Think that's our place, y/n." Dutch, Bill and Hosea already dismounting in front of it.

You sat in awe as you turned your horse to the ties right outside. You hadn't noticed this the last time you were through here.

"Careful, don't lose yourself in there." He snickers, dismounting with you. Clearly you had made your gawking too obvious.

"Oh please," you swat at him as you both walk for the door. "I'm not that bad."

When he opens the door to the inside, the slightly cooler air relieved you, everything smelt fresh, polished wood and all. This wasn't a place for an outlaw, made all the clearer when you spotted the clerk.

The store clerk instantly looked taken aback by your groups presence. Maybe you should've considered leaving your guns outside.

He wasn't all for you in his store, but you greeted him as softly as you could, keeping your hands well away from your dangerous metal contraptions.

"What can I do for you... folk?" His voice shrill and accented with what you could only assume as french.

Dutch waves over Arthur, who gives you one last glance before they all go to a different part of the shop, leaving you awkwardly standing there alone.

The man walks up to you after sorting out Arthur and the rest of them. "I assume you're looking for an evening gown?"

You nod, "Yeah, something that isn't too costly?"

He hums his consideration, scanning you up and down. "Measurements?" He asks out of the blue.

Now your face flushed. You would have infinitely no idea, which made you feel even more dumb.

"I-" You look away for a moment trying to think if you even knew. "I couldn't tell you..."

He makes a noise as if he already knew, gesturing his hand at you to follow him.

He sped walk so fast to your surprise, you weren't sure why he was in such a rush, having you near to jogging just to keep up.

When you reached a paltry, bright room with fabrics adorning mannequins. He had you remove most of your outer clothing and equipment. Discarding it to a chair left of you.

He was rather swift with your measurements, wandering around to find a small selection of dresses that he said would fit, with some adjustment of course.

You picked the prettiest of the bunch, almost feeling like a little girl again. Getting a new dress. It excited you - mostly.

"I'll let you try these all on, and your little boyfriend can hobble over to see, whenever he's done. But- over there." Now he shoo'd you to a dressing room, he seemed like he was trying to get the lot of you out of his store swiftly.

The curtain slid aggressively behind you, leaving you stunned inside, which you shook off but not without an amount of confusion.

You groaned, forgetting just how much of a hassle getting on dresses was, it took you a good while each dress you tried on, thankfully only three.

Once you got down the last dress - your favorite - you heard Arthur chime from behind the curtain, startling you so bad you jumped to cover yourself.

(Leaving the dress desc vague so you can come up with your own.)

"Can I see?" He questions, a mere curtain being all that separates you. He'd seen you unclothed before, but now it felt different.

"No, I'm half-naked." You scolded, but your disgruntled attitude quickly washed away when your eyes widened with shock.

Your words had only seemed to rev him up. His hand grasped at the curtain, but you stopped it before it folded back any further, slapping away his hand.

"Quit that you no-good buzzard." You hissed, fearing that the rest of the gang would hear, which would be too much for you to bear.

He crows in response, but doesn't continue dragging the curtain further. "I've seen you much more indecent than that, y/n."

Your face runs hot with his words, prompting you to start swatting and punching at the curtain to get him away.

"Get outta here before the sales clerk thinks we're doing some silly business back here." You fussed, mumbling lowly enough just for him to hear.

This prompted a defeated sigh, from the other side of the curtain. "Just give me another minute." You half-consoled, not a shred of empathy for him.

He came for the dress no doubt, but he preferred no dress just as much if not more.

"Okay, okay." He laughs, his spurs clicked as he took a few steps back.

Pulling up the sleeves that rested just by your shoulders, you took a look in the mirror.

The dress revealed a hell of a lot more than what you were use to, your bullet scar on your arm prevalent, though you didn't mind as much as thought you would.

With this dress on, there was no room for guns. So you had come prepared with a small thigh holster, only allowing for a tiny pistol.

You weren't sure what you were to do with your hair. Tapping your foot, to which you realized, you didn't have heels neither. This all getting more costly than you had hoped for.

Nestling your hair up into a loose bun, you quickly gathered the rest of your clothes before you forgot them to stuff into your saddle bags.

When you finally pulled back the curtain, you glared at Arthur with a 'are you happy now?' look for a minute. He himself stood dashing, if you put it lightly. A regular tuxedo, even on him, looked way better than it should.

You only gave him a small grace period before you walked passed him to find some heels.

"Wait-" He reaches for your arm and holds you back. "Let me get a better look, Miss l/n."

You stood in front of him awkwardly, his eyes quite literally feasting upon you which made you anxious and squirmy in his grasp.

"Hmm." His initial ogle replaced by his typical sarcastic grin, which already had you ready to sock him. "Looks fine enough, I suppose."

"And you?" You made it a point to make it noticeable that you eyeballed him up and down. "They might not let you in." It was a lie, and he could tell.

"You shoulda seen your face when you first came out." Puffing his chest out, much too proud. You gave him a small slap to his bicep, shaking your head.

Meeting with Hosea, Dutch and Bill, you finished the rest of your affairs. Climbing into the back of a carriage to eventually join the party.

The mayors house was magnificent, and damnably large. It felt daunting as it loomed over you.

Your eyes caught onto all of the intricate wood decals that sprinkled the faultless paint job. Every thing well lit by the warm street lights.

It wasn't a place you felt you belonged in with the life you led. Especially not with the people that were attending; Corrupt politicians and crime lords.

This whole situation was brittle and you had to run it nicely - not peeve anyone off.

A man greeted Dutch, then told the lot of you, no guns. No one suspected you of your gun, delightfully. So you followed everyone inside after they unenthusiastically handed over their weapons.

when you reached the inside, you flicked your head around to catch all the details in the interior. You had really only heard talk of such extravagant places like these. Certainly an experience, you thought.

Dutch looked to you, Hosea and Bill and told you to join the party whilst him and Arthur followed the man who led them to Bronte up a flight of stairs.

Your face soured, you had only a faint idea on how to seem a natural when speaking to the high flyers. Never the less, you did.

Eventually, you spotted Arthur who finally had left the balcony where he conversed with Bronte and Dutch. You dismissed yourself from the two men you spoke with, making your way to him.

"So? Did you find anything out?" You question, hoping he found out more than you had.

"No... not really. He suggested a take at the trolley station."

Your brow strung up. A trolley station? That sounded unusual to you.

"Good money, I suppose?"

He wasn't so sure either. "So it sounds. Dutch seems to trust it."

"Very well then." Nodding your head, in acceptance. "Whats he want us to do next?"

He hooks your arm in his abruptly, feeling a blush heat your face with his sudden act of affection.

"Try to talk to the mayor, get info." He says lowly, leaning over slightly as he walks with you to a group of men.

They stood in a small circle, chattering amongst themselves, scolding a man to their right that was much too drunk.

Arthur waited a moment before releasing you and reprimanding the man himself by touring him out. Leaving you with them alone.

They greeted you, to which you introduced yourself, waiting for Arthur to return, which he did, promptly.

They exchanged pleasantries for only a second before a series of pops interrupts their speak.

A splatter of blazing colours fill the dark sky, instantly captivating you. This wasn't something you'd seen before in all your long years of life.

You automatically pulled Arthurs hand to get a better view together. The sounds of the crowd behind you gasping and awing amongst the booms that sounded from the sky.

The bright twinkling and sparkling only lasted seconds each, spirals and scatters, each their own neon colours.

Greens, reds, blues, faded into smoke that matched the parted clouds, new splashes of colour never seizing to paint the gray and black behind them.

You stood in front of Arthur, sinking your head into his chest, gazing at all of the captivating lights before you.

Maybe your feelings for Arthur held you tighter than you cared to admit. He was still the one who had committed atrocities against you, which you weren't so quick to let go of.

Spinning around, you looked up to him, the blue in his eyes would perfectly match the skies if it were day, instead reflecting all the crackling lights you missed with your back turned.

"You know how to dance, don't you?" You beam, his hand in yours.

"No?-" He questions, not anticipating just what you had in store for him.

"Perfect!" Your hand tightens around his, leading him to the gazebo that stood not far from where you gathered just a moment before.

"I don't reckon we have time to embarrass ourselves right now."

"Oh, yes, you do. Believe it not, I still recall getting taught how to dance when I was younger." Snickering as you reveal your plans to a reluctant Arthur.

Stepping inside the lit gazebo, you glance around to make sure its clear. Smiling when you confirm it is.

"Ready?" Catching his hand before he felt he could change his mind - not that he had much of a choice in the first place.

He grumbles, but that tiny little spark in his eye proving he wasn't all that terribly put out by this.

His arm slowly slid down and around your waist, drawing you in close, in turn your arm raised up to his shoulder.

"Okay, now just follow my lead." You moved one foot back, the front of his shoe found your toes faster than you had imagined.

He corrects himself, much to the relief of your foot. "Shit- sorry."

"We'll go slow." You giggle, finding it funny that you were teaching Arthur of all people how to dance.

Which each step, his foot still strayed a few times, but he got the hang of it quickly.

"See? It's not so bad. But if you're still embarrassed from stepping on me, I can understand." Feigning a look of pity and a half hearted pat on his shoulder.

"I enjoyed stepping on them more than not." He shoots back, his timing lining up with the moment your heel caught on a loose board, nearly loosing your balance but Arthurs arm around you remained firm, holding you up.

"Not so tough are we, y/n?" He chortles, your pride hurting more than your feet.

You couldn't help the sheepish laugh that left you. "I demand you respect your teacher, Mr. Morgan."

"Or what? There ain't much you can do about it."

"We'll see about that." You challenge, returning to a slow rhythm. He never released you from his tight grasp.

Your bodies never left each others for the entire time, you both relished in it more than you'd ever address.

His hand eventually found your arm, his fingers gently brushing the double sided scar that he had punished you with upon your first meeting.

Dwelling for a few moments, he runs his hand up and over your collar bone, then meeting your chin. His gaze was soft, no trace of his typical cocky expression.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier." His thumb caressing the bottom of your plush lip.

"I-" He stops you from what he already anticipated you saying. Shaking his head.

"Not another word from you." He leans down, his mouth meeting yours. The most gentle show of affection he had shown you to date.

You leaned into it for as long as it lasted, cherishing each second it dragged further.

When he pulled away, there was a look you'd never be able to place on Arthurs face. You'd never forget it, that you could count on.

"I don't like that all the other men here get to see you like this too." He confesses, glancing over to the gathering, jerking upright when he spots something he didn't expect.

"I hope I'm not being too brash as I interrupt you two love sick fools." Dutch as much himself as ever with those words.

You and Arthur finally released from your embrace, standing side by side as if you both just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

Dutch hollered out a hearty laugh, the ability to stay mad lost with the guilty looks you both held. "Save it for camp... now I heard mentions of Cornwall from Mr. Mayor and one of his men. Quickly both of you."

He chased you of the gazebo effectively, Arthur sighed as you strode back to complete the mission you'd been sent on.

"Oh good, I was starting to regret sending you both in there together." Dutch waited no time to tease you both further, making it obvious to Hosea and Bill who had a good laugh about it too.

"Yeah, yeah. We got somethin'." Arthur confirms, waving off the insult.

"Well then," Hosea chimes, excited with the news. "Think it's time to go."

That you could agree dualy on, your eye lids started to gain weight, desiring nothing more than to return to camp.

You all made for your ride back, collecting their guns on the way out, some speak of a bank heist along the way, which definitely prompted skepticism in you. As most of these takes did.

The carriage rolled up to you, not much time spent in terms of getting in. All of you wanted out of there.

Bill's voice haughty and filled with contempt as he complained about the 'high society pigeon shit.' Which plastered a drowsy smirk on your face.

Instinctively, you sat next to Arthur on the way back, dozing off on his shoulder not long after the carriage lurched shakily over the uneven cobblestone roads.

Guys I proof read this at 3 am so ignore any mistakes...

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #enemies to lovers #rdr2 #fluff #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #bill williamson

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