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#I’m so excited to finish it all the way but I keep stalling because once I’m done there will be no more new teddy ruxpin cartoon content

weixuldo · 1 year

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Allow me// ch 4

Vader x Reader

a/n: Hello hello!! sorry for the wait! I will say that were entering more of the “x reader” content that I know most of you are looking forward to heh, but who doesnt love a good slow burn?? hah ty for reading :)

Your boss is not happy about your absence yesterday

warnings: Cannon typical violence, force choking, real choking (and not in the fun way lol), Death, implied death, cursing, anxiety

_____________________

“You never arrived at your posted station yesterday officer y/n, so where in the galaxy were you?!” your red faced manager shouted at you as he dabbed at the sweat forming above his bushy brow.

“I was pulled aside to complete-”

“I don’t give a fuck about who asked for your assistance, you report to me. And unfortunately your task was not completed yesterday so who do you think got chewed out? Me!” he huffed, not allowing you to finish your sentence. This was causing a bit of a scene in the semi-public hallway.

If he weren't always like this, a passerby might think he was going to go into cardiac arrest.

“Sir, I am truly sorry, but when Darth Vader himself asks for your assistance, you can't really deny him,” you tried to explain calmly.

The winded man in front of you let out a gargantuan laugh, “You're tellin’ me… Darth Vader? The most revered Sith lord in the galaxy… asked for your help?! Hah! You gotta be outta your mind little girl”.

“It is true sir, I didn’t get a chance to tell you after I finished because It was late and our wing was closed”.

“Oh yea, I'm sure you did get back pretty late” he laughed.

“Pardon?”

“We all hear what the troopers say about you little miss, surprised you didn’t take your knee pads yesterday, well with all that dick you’ve been sucking”

Wow, this puny man was really proud of himself, wasn't he. It was honestly disgusting.

“I do not think that is appropriate workplace behavior, sir” you tried to remain as cordial as possible; with basically the whole executor aiming for the target on your back, you felt like you had to be on your very best behavior all the time.

“Yea, well in my department, I make the rules and since you carelessly neglected your duties yesterday, I’m giving you the highly acclaimed task of cleaning the restrooms in the communal sector, and once you're done with that I think I’ll give you a task all the way in the bridge” the man smiled a toothy grin before insisting time was “of the essence”.

The cool bathroom floor made you shiver as your knees hit the tile, you went through so much schooling and apprenticeships to do ….this.

Wonderful.

To make it even better you had to keep the door open because the cleaning chemicals needed to be aired out or else they would be too strong; that gave your whole department the lovely view of your ass bent over the toilets, scrubbing away the grime.

It was humiliating, but what were you going to do? Defy your manager and possibly lose your job? No.

It was bad enough that everyone here seemed to hate you, why would you lose a decent paying job too?

You sighed as you heard some of your co-workers snickering;

“I bet that tile is uncomfortable”

“I wouldn't worry about it, she’s probably used to being on her knees hah!”

Finally, you reached the last stall and you were getting high off of the fumes of the cleaning materials. You felt gross and you were getting a headache, your boss didn’t even give you the health regulated mask to use as you worked with the chemicals.

You were gathering up the cleaning bottles and rags when you heard the bustling of your office grow silent. That wasn’t normal, usually there were at least a few yappy voices gossiping about some dumb drama within the department.

You were inclined to peek around the doorway of the bathroom, but you decided not to do anything that could get you yelled at…again.

Suddenly you heard a hushed voice, “He’s coming”.

At that, your senses heightened. Could it be?

Him.

You had no reason to be excited for his arrival, after all it's not like you were in a fantasy story where he would whisk you away and make you his-

The familiar sound of the steel door sliding to the side filled the bay and in came those heavy boot steps, patterned breathing, and demanding aura.

Darth Vader was here.

“My Lord, how may I be of assistance” your boss bowed at the dark figure before him; his face finally cooled down from the bright red it was when he yelled at you earlier.

“I need to speak with one of your mechanics” the Sith spoke, surveying the room.

“Yes, of course! We can get you someone right awa-’

“You misunderstand, General. I need one specific mechanic” Vader corrected.

“Oh! My apologies, who may you be in search of?” Your boss recovered his mistake, though you could see the redness creeping up the back of his neck again.

“F/N L/N.”

Did you mess up your details yesterday?

You felt less worried for your safety then you once did because you had shared a few one-on-one moments with the dark lord.

But

His sudden appearance in your wing did confuse you.

You peeked around the bathroom door’s opening and saw your boss nervously glancing at the bathroom door.

“Ohh, um, of course My lord…. Though might I add, if some repair was done incorrectly I apologize on behalf of the mechanic’s branch… she tends to do faulty work– and we will deal with her accordingl-”

“Quite the contrary, general.”

The-now- red faced man blinked in surprise at the Sith’s words.

“M-My Lord?”

He stole another glance back to where you were.

“What is in the bathroom that is so interesting that you cannot focus on our conversation?” The cloaked figure demanded as he made his way over to where you were.

Quickly you scurried away from the entrance and went back to cleaning on the other end of the facility; You'd rather not be caught actively eavesdropping.

The Sith stomped into the bathroom with a determination that gave you butterflies. His helmet turned towards you before he commanded you to rise.

Oh… maybe he was frustrated with you.

Your excitement turned into uncertainty as you followed the man out of the restroom.

“Leave the bucket” he added, talking about the pail with all of the cleaning supplies and rags.

You stepped out of the chemical filled bathroom and inhaled a deep breath of clean air; as you followed the flowing cape of the man in front of you, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Vader suddenly stopped, causing you to almost run straight into his broad shoulders.

“Would you care to explain why a mechanic of the empire was wasting time sanitizing the restroom facilities and not a cleaning droid?”

“Well, My Lord, she had not arrived at her posted work station yesterday, so we thought it best to punish her accordingly” Your boss replied with a nervous toothy grin.

“Who approved that method, General?”

“Well- Umm” the shorter man stammered.

“Because I see no advantages to this situation. More work is delayed and the cleaning is less efficient”

Damn, he really just implied you didn’t know how to clean a toilet.

“Yes, Of course My Lord, My apologies… it will not happen again” Your boss profusely apologized.

“Very well. I am not pleased when workers take their own liberties when abridging protocol on MY ship” The Sith proclaimed irritably.

The sleazy man cowered and stepped aside, allowing the cloaked Sith passage.

“Y/N, you are to come with me” Vader spoke, without turning to look at you.

Your whole body felt tingly as you walked behind him (and not in the fun tingly way…. More like dread). You weren’t used to him taking a demanding tone with you.

You followed him out and his squadron followed closely behind you; the hallway was silent except for the shuffle of the trooper’s boots and the man’s breathing. What had you gotten yourself into?

Only around halfway down the hallway the man in front of you suddenly stopped, prompting you to halt abruptly behind him. You were so close that his cape brushed the tip of your nose before you took a few steps back.

Vader slowly turned his head to the side as if he were sensing something. Was he feeling your fear?

The profile of his mask seemed more and more ominous with every second.

You were about to ask him what was the matter, but before you could he walked past you back towards where you both just were.

Were you supposed to follow him?

He had already entered the room when you caught up with him. You weren't sure what he was doing, but you sure didn’t expect to see him choking your boss in the middle of the room.

The smaller man had no chance as the dark giant held him firmly in his gloved hand. It was almost sad how much your boss was struggling; he kicked his feet and clawed at Vader’s iron fist.

“Would you care to repeat what you just said, general?” Vader questioned.

All the man could muster was broken chokes and gasps as his face turned bluer by the second.

“First you think you can change protocol and then you have the audacity to insinuate my business with one of your mechanics” he scoffed before dropping the man from his grasp.

He fell hard with a thud and gasped for air.

Vader straightened his form and took a look around the room at all of the terrified workers.

“Do not be so ignorant as to think I do not hear your childish gossip on my own ship.”

Suddenly you realized what this was all about…

the rumors.

Of course a mighty sith lord wouldn’t want to be talked about behind their back, especially if people were insinuating they were getting their rocks off, but there was a certain double standard among the men of the galaxy. It was seen as something to be proud of when a man would bed many women or have “sex slaves” (for lack of better terms).

You really didn’t understand why he was so heated… was it because it was you?

A sudden wave of nausea washed over you; was he only disgusted because they were pairing him with you? Did he think you were that embarrassing to be associated with?

Vader turned his attention back to the man on the ground.

“Pathetic” he huffed before turning back to the gallery of shocked workers.

“Let him be an example for you all”

In a swift motion he turned his clench fist and the man’s neck snapped with a sickening crack.

Your eyes widened and you heard others gasp; you had only ever heard of the Sith’s capability, never seen it.

Vader turned on his heel and promptly left the room, strutting down the hall quicker than he was before; you were frozen for a moment, but then you hurried after the Sith. Hopefully what he needed you for would be something less… deadly.

___________________________

The room was freezing and the fabric of your uniform was not doing much to help with the cold.

After the ordeal at your workplace, Vader brought you to a room that you had not previously seen. In keeping with the rest of the ship, the room was the rich obsidian that you grew accustomed to. There was a large seat in front of the window that beautifully displayed the vast view of space.

Currently you were seated on a couch that was in front of the chair; much to your surprise it was a pretty comfy one.

None of the troopers entered the room with you and the Sith, so you worried this was it. You were going to die.

He asked you to take a seat but then disappeared into another connecting room.

In his absence, you recalled all of your interactions with him, trying to figure out what grounds he had to kill you? Nothing you had done was out of line, it was more the mistakes of those around you… but what were you going to do, protest the Sith’s plans?

You became sad when you reminisced on your feelings for the man… What a fool you were. You really thought that the cold and stoic man liked you. You thought you were connecting with him- and he even allowed you to drop formalities around him-

What went wrong?

You were too naiive, that’s what was wrong.

Your nerves began to settle a bit when he hadn’t returned, it had been around two hours by now. Whether he wanted to play a cruel waiting game or not was becoming more and more irrelevant to you.

You were sure your fate was sealed, so what was a few more hours? Plus you had a very emotionally taxing day and your lack of sleep was catching up with you.

This couch was feeling more and more appealing and your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier…

Maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt, you would just make sure to set an alarm on your watch for you to wake up.

yeah… just a quick-

***

a/n: alrightyyy thank you for reading and if you guys have any questions about the pacing of this story or enigma, dont hesitate to shoot me an ask! Love you all :)

taglist: @vadersassistant @sxoulohvn @khaleesihavilliard @kashasenpai @darling-murdock @beautifulbearpolice @salvatoresister1 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @blueninjablade3 @jujuba096 @missmannequin @jellydodger @mirastark @wyvernthekriger @duckyhowls @monada43 @lauriidoesstuff @vienettacream @ray-rook @itswhatever06

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steddieunderdogfics · 15 days

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: Capriciously_Terminal! @capriciouslyterminal has 106 fics on ao3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 105 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@mustardyellowlilac recommends the following works by Capriciously_Terminal:

Where the Sun Can't Reach

Spit Me out, You Don't Know Where I've Been

It's the Ritual of the Thing

Baby I'm Your Man (Don't Fear the Reaper)

It's as if she writes memories, rather than stories, and that makes them tangible and devastating -- @mustardyellowlilac

Below the cut, @capriciouslyterminal answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I started writing Steddie because the characters of Steve and Eddie have such specific and human voices that I literally couldn’t get them out of my head after watching the first drop of S4. (Also I’d just gotten a new puppy who didn’t love sleeping through the night so I had plenty of time to think). The more I wrote for them the deeper I found myself in their voices and thinking about what they could do and I had to keep going until I ran out of steam.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love a good “Steddie interwoven into previous seasons’ canon events” story. Especially if an author makes it SO specific. I want Steve and Eddie in Starcourt. I want Eddie Munson popping up at the pumpkin patch. I want Eddie Munson in the background at Starcourt drooling. I want him to spend this whole time watching Steve’s character growth and finding it impossibly hot before getting twisted up in the horror.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I definitely love adding Eddie Munson to canon (thinking about him and life-guard Steve Harrington is where this all began, afterall). However I think that I, as a person, am just as obsessed with The Horrors. As such adding monstrosity/new flavors of spooky to this show was my favorite thing to do.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I can narrow it down to two! My favorite piece of Steddie fic that changed my brain chemistry has got to be fastcardotmp3’s “that’s just wasteland, baby!” (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42351597) because the scene in the lake? The genuine wonderful take on in media res apocalypse living? Dot’s talent for characterization/love? I’ll never live it down. Actually, go read everything by fastcardotmp3. Do yourself a favor. The other has to be “every mistake was made purposefully” by birthdaycandles (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41795838/chapters/104862381). It turns out I’m a sucker for excellent narration and watching Steddie/plot shenanigans from Tommy Hagan’s prickly point of view. It gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I always wanted to write a When Harry Met Sally AU about Steve and Eddie meeting throughout their lives/development. I don’t know if I’ll ever pick it up again but it’s still there knocking at the back of my mind. I’ve also got like fifteen of the drabbles in i love you you dope with bits of continuation in my head too.

What is your writing process like?

In general, my writing is a very all or nothing process. It’s either going to go all day, through meals, and not stop until the idea is finished OR I’m going to be stalled completely. Generally, though, if I’m in my crazy inspired phase I’ll have an idea (specifically the beginning of something) and if that idea sticks in my head for more than a single day then I probably can’t leave it until it’s done. However, this did change with my writing i love you you dope. I decided to answer p0ck3tf0x's "100 Ways to Say I Love You" list one prompt at a time. Once a day. RIP. This led to a writing process which was more of a sit down after work and immediately write the first thing you could think of until it’s done kind of affair. I can’t recommend that style lol. It led to some pretty intense burnout by the end but I am proud of how many ideas came because of it. It showed that, through tenacity, most ideas could be something worth pursuing.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I can’t help but put first and second person pronouns in descriptions as if speaking to the reader and I’m a frequent and blatant tense shifter. It’s all over the place at times lol. I also LOVE a good stream of consciousness description, flitting from one image to another, which probably lead to these grammatical quirks and a shit ton of run-on sentences.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Before I started writing i love you you dope I very much preferred finishing my writing before I posted it. It took ages but nothing felt worse than having to leave something unfinished because I’d lost the plot (which has happened several times). However, part of the draw of i love you you dope was that (as a challenge) I had to write and post daily. While I learned I can write on such a grueling schedule, I can safely say after finishing it that I prefer having the time to ensure something’s to my standards. Or, at least, until I’m tired of looking at it and just want other people to see it.

Which fic are you most proud of?

If we branch outside of my Steddie work it’s a fic for a little show called Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency that I think I’ll never top. A Road Song in Quartet that Smells like a Trio is basically my novel/brain-child about my favorite rowdy vampire boys and I have to shout it out everywhere I go. However, to stick to the Steddie, I had such a great time with characterization in writing It’s the Ritual of the Thing. Some of those descriptions are still some of my best work. Or, I’d have to say, Can We Both Be Lonely If We’re Both Looking at Each Other? It’s an AU modeled after the world of The Magnus Archives Podcast and not only was I proud of the way I was able to layer monstrosity on both Eddie and Steve but I just loved the world. I actually planned out a whole main plot for the world that never saw the light of day.

How did you get the idea for Baby I'm Your Man (Don't Fear the Reaper)?

I can’t remember which came first, the title or the idea of Eddie meeting Death as played by Steve Harrington, but the song title by Blue Öyster Cult had definitely been sitting in my head for a while. The idea initially started as a Seventh Seal reference with Eddie having to challenge Death with Steve Harrington’s face to a game of basketball but that scene wasn’t working so instead we got a trip through various S4 locales and a fun Death with good hair.

When writing Spit Me out, You Don't Know Where I've Been, what was something you didn’t expect?

I honestly didn’t know if anyone would vibe with the language/story. For a fic that focused a lot on unease, offal, and how hard it would be to picture a future in a small town I was waiting for people to not touch this one with a ten foot pole. So to hear that it actually channeled people’s feelings or that it was something that people enjoyed (as opposed to just me shouting stressful things at the sky) was a big expectation dodge.

What inspired It's the Ritual of the Thing?

When I was in high school I had a friend who asked me out once, the first person to ever do so, and my first instinctual response was to genuinely ask him why he was really calling me after school. He insisted that he really did want to ask me out and for some reason that made my blood run cold. The date did not go well, obviously, but I remembered the gut punch to think someone wouldn’t want you/the desire to say no just because it frightened you for years afterwards. It felt like such an Eddie thing to feel, especially if Steve Harrington was the one to ask him out. Honestly…I poured a lot of my own worldview into Eddie Munson as I wrote him and that’s where a lot of this came from.

What was your favorite part to write from Ritual of the Thing?

I’d have to say it’s a toss up between two parts. Firstly, I’ll never get over the descriptive imagery in the beginning (I’ll never forget lines like “Suddenly it’s like he’s a Jack-O-Lantern with his mouth carved open. A candle sits on his tongue and its light is shining out of his eyes”). It was the kind of sentence I was thrilled to read after I wrote it. Secondly, I was really proud of Eddie and Robin’s conversation after Steve told her about his asking Eddie out. I loved both of their voices in that moment and the thought of Robin trying to explain how much Steve could love you even after you’d had to let him down…and her little fake nightmare discussion.

How do/did you feel writing Where the Sun Can't Reach?

On one hand it felt like I was exorcizing something because I show my class The Sandlot once a year and that means for one day I watch the scene where the kid fakes drowning to make-out with the lifeguard four times. That’s too many times. I had to process that. But I do remember that feeling of loneliness that could come with summer. That could come with wishing for a room somewhere with someone you loved when it felt impossible. I remember when the smallest of things could mean the world when you had nothing else…so in a way maybe I was exorcizing that too.

What was the most difficult part of writing Where the Sun Can't Reach?

Besides the jokey answer of reliving the aforementioned scene from The Sandlot on purpose, I’d have to say trying to accurately consider the physics/feelings of Eddie’s trip into the water. The feelings/actual consequences of hitting his head. I’m not too sure I got the details right but I remember working on it so many times that I eventually threw in the towel and went with what I had.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I think…it’s gotta go to my lone vampire Steddie fic I Go Hungry Every Night. The whole thing’s one big treatise to Upside Down skinned vampires and food/service as a love language? And also the fact that I love vampires/monstrosity. I just went way too hard with the line: “If you asked Steve what the opposite of tracing constellations in someone’s freckles in the afterglow would be he’d say this, making shapes in the pieces of the wound they’ve given you. The one that weeps red slowly.”

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

While I wish I did, and I’m always thinking about various unfinished fics in the strangest moments of my life, I think I’m pretty knocked from my Steddie writing mojo. I love you you dope was an incredible process and I am so proud of it…but I think it cauterized my writing brain for Steddie. I’d love for people to poke around the fics I wrote and I will say that other people’s intrigue sometimes pulls my attention back to old ideas…but I do believe I’m a bit out to pasture here lol.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Writing Steddie was something that kept me sane during a really stressful transition from college to adulthood. These characters and all the people I got to meet/talk with in this fandom have been one of the greatest joys in my life. I’m so honored, like honestly floored, that anyone would nominate me for something like this. The thing about writing fic is that oftentimes when you start it can feel like you can’t possibly amount to what other people do. Like you’re just a little voice that doesn’t have anything special about it even when you tried so hard. But I stand as someone who felt that way and still found that people did enjoy what I wrote and if I can do it, honestly, anyone can. <3

Thank you to our author, @capriciouslyterminal, and our nominator, @mustardyellowlilac! See more of Capriciously_Terminal's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's wednesday #writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers

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soaringeag1e · 9 months

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Escape {61}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst, Tears, Emotional, Mentions of Getting Sick

Words: 3,325

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

There was a slight chill in the air, but all things considered it was a pretty warm day for being the end of February.

You took the opportunity to sleep in that morning after Dean got up for work. One, because you don’t usually sleep in and two, the bed was just way too comfortable to leave. But once you were up and about, you took a shower and then did some light cleaning around the house after making yourself a little breakfast and that’s when Dean had texted you. You’re not sure what he was calling you down to the station for but you were kind of hoping it was to grab lunch with him because you were definitely getting hungry again.

As you approached his office you saw that the door was open, so with an excited smile you poked your head in, more than ready to see his gorgeous green eyes. But as you scanned the office, that smile fell. The room was empty with no sign of Dean anywhere in the neatly kept space.

“Y/N?” Whipping your head around you were relieved to see that it was Eddie approaching you and knowing that he should know where to find Dean, that brought your anxiety down a bit. The last thing you wanted to do was roam around a police station looking like a lost puppy.

“Hey.” you greet, your smile growing back.

“Hi.” he smiles in return, but it almost doesn’t have the same effect that it usually did which had you on slight alert. “Dean’s just finishing up with something, but he’s asked me to show you to another room for him.”

“Oh.” Another room? That was definitely odd but you nod anyway, trusting both of these men more than anyone else. “Okay.” Keeping close, you follow him towards the back of the station where there were many doors. Some of them were offices and others you weren’t quite sure about. But when Eddie reaches for one of the handles you look at the plaque on the outside of the door and your stomach twists.

Interrogation 2

You wanted to ask him why he was bringing you in there but the mixture of panic, anxiety and fear was keeping you speechless.

He enters first and waits for you to join him, not rushing you as you slowly move into the room. You look from the large mirror to the table with the few chairs sitting around it, rapidly beginning to feel uneasy. Never in your life did you think you would be in one of these rooms and honestly, it was as cold and intimidating as you thought it would be.

“Can I get you some water or something?” he asks, his expression gentle when you look up at him. “Coffee maybe?” This wasn’t right. You could feel it. Something was off and it was starting to really get to you.

“Um…water is fine.”

“Okay.” his smile grows a tad before he reaches for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

“Eddie?” you catch him before he leaves you, your curiosity getting to be too much to wait any longer. “What’s going on?” That’s when even he can’t keep a straight face. A certain sadness takes over and his eyes avert yours briefly.

“I would tell you, Y/N, but…I know that Dean wants to be the one to explain it to you.” he knows that doesn’t calm you but you understand why he won’t step over Dean. "You understand, right?" Unable to speak because of the rising fear, you just nod. “Okay. I’m going to go grab you that water.”

Dean was grateful that no one else was in the restroom when he burst in there. Not that it would have mattered. He would have still rushed into one of the stalls and emptied his stomach anyway because there was no way for him to hold back his nausea any longer.

When you agreed to come down to the station Dean instantly felt like throwing up, so how he was able to hold back until now was a miracle.

It was obvious how this was going to play out. Whether you agreed to the interview or not, just the fact that he has to bring up the case again with you was terrible in itself. You have done so well for yourself in the past two years, moving on from this nightmare being a major accomplishment and now here Dean was, a sledgehammer in hand as he broke down that door again and released the demons that you had locked up. He felt like a terrible person.

Spitting a few times into the toilet bowl, he remained hunched over for another couple seconds, making sure he was through clearing his system out before wiping his mouth with some toilet paper, throwing it in the bowl and flushing the contents.

Shuffling towards the sink, he makes sure the water is cold before cupping his hand under the running water, then he quickly tosses the liquid in his mouth before swishing it around in attempts to clean out the disgusting taste from what just happened. He does that a few times until he's decently satisfied with the outcome and then washes his hands.

When he finally gets the courage to leave the wash room he's not expecting to see Eddie standing right outside the door.

"You okay?" Deans eyes glance at the bottle of water in his hands before he runs his hand over his mouth.

"No." Styles hands him the water bottle then. "Is she here?"

"Yeah. She's in two." Dean nods as he looks down the hall.

"What about your girl?"

"She'll be here in about five minutes."

"Okay." Knowing that he can't avoid this all day, Dean takes a few breaths. "You know what, do you have a mint or some gum or something?"

"Yeah." Styles is quick to reach in his pocket and pull out a strip of gum.

"Thanks." With nothing to say that could help the situation, Eddie just gives his friend a soft grin and pats him on the back before letting him head for the room you were waiting in.

When Deans hand met the door handle he froze. He knew there was no turning back now. The second he sent that text took that option off the table, so he took another minute for himself and then he pushed the door open. You look up from your hands looking as fearful as he expected and he felt terrible knowing that it wasn’t going to get any better.

"Hey." he tries to smile at you before shutting the door behind him. “Thanks for coming in, babe.”

“What’s going on, Dean?” you waste no time in asking and he completely understands. Not that it makes it any easier to start off.

Soaking up every second he can, he moves towards the chair across from you and twists off the top of the water, handing it over before he takes a seat. His tongue runs across his bottom lip followed by his teeth worrying against the fatty tissue.

“I’ve uh…I’ve had some new evidence come up with your case.”

“New evidence?” Confusion was evident and Dean was trying to find a way to explain everything to you as delicately as possible. “What are you talking about?”

“I strongly believe that there was someone working with Paul McConnell.” You seem to take a minute or so to run that sentence through your brain a few times, possibly even having your own conversation in there too.

“Okay? So…what does this have to do with me?”

“I’m hoping you can help us find out who it is.” Your eyes widen a bit and your body begins to hunch in your seat. Dean’s just waiting for you to completely lose it on him at this point, call him crazy and get up to leave the room.

“Wh-what? Why me? Why don’t you ask him? If he said there was then he’d be the one to ask, not me!” Dean leans forward in his seat a little, clasping his hands together.

“You remember about a week ago when I came home and I told you about having to go to the prison to talk to one of the inmates?�� You think back a second but then that night comes back to you.

“Yeah.”

“I went to see Paul.” he confesses and he sees your face pale. It’s like your lungs were sucked of their air as you looked around the room, almost lost. “He was the one I had to make a deal with.” he sees you swallow before finally taking in a decent breath.

“Okay. I’m still trying to understand why you have me here then?” Dean’s eyes drop to the metal table briefly.

“I went to see Paul this morning.” he pauses and it’s clear that you’re eager for him to continue. “He’s dead, Y/N. Died yesterday in his cell.” Shock quickly took over but he could tell you had mixed emotions about that. “So that’s why you’re here. You may be the only one that can help us find out who this other guy is.” he gives you a minute, letting you take in all the information. Because from the lost look on your face, he’s certain that you’re still stuck on the fact that Paul is dead.

“Hold on.” you tell him, slightly out of breath. “How am I supposed to help? I never knew there was another guy. There was never another person, Dean. Paul was the only guy I ever saw! He was the only one that ever came into that room!” your voice continued to escalate with every sentence you got out, the fear of your past gradually building up as the memories came flooding back.

“We believe that he may have drugged you and the other girls.”

“No.” you shut down instantly, getting up from your chair and pacing the area near the window.

“We think that he probably came in when you were sleeping. Most likely injected you with an anesthetic to keep you out.” You continued to shake your head, not that you didn’t believe him but for the fact that you didn’t want to believe it.

“No! I was never drugged! I would have felt it if someone stuck me with a needle, Dean!”

“Not if he gave you enough.” he explains calmly, but the knife in his chest continues to be twisted as you get more emotional. “Injecting you with the right amount would keep you drowsy enough that everything that happened while under the drug would feel almost dreamlike. It wouldn’t feel real. If you remembered anything at all.” You looked completely devastated and with good reason. You spent the last two years recovering from what happened to you and now that you’ve made it to a good place in your life, a whole new trauma has risen.

“Fine.” you huff silently. “Let’s say you’re right. That doesn’t help with the fact that I can’t remember. You can sit here all day and tell me your theories but that doesn’t magically make this person appear in my head!”

“I know.”

“Then what do you want me to do!?”

“Why don’t you sit down, honey.” Dean tells you cautiously, standing from his chair and slowly moving around the table.

“I don’t want to sit down! Don’t you treat me like one of your suspects, Dean!” your hands go up and you take a few steps back causing Dean’s stomach to plummet.

“I’m not!” he raises his voice a bit to get you to listen to him. “Listen…I know this is a lot, okay? And I know it’s hard, but I need you to try and calm down just a little.” he's able to place his hands on your arms, thankfully without you pulling away from him. “I don’t need you passing out on me.” he jokes a little, helping you back into your chair. “Here, drink some water.” Pulling the bottle of water closer, he makes sure you pick it up before he moves back to his seat.

“How am I supposed to remember?” you ask with a sadness in your voice, seeming a lot more calm than you were a few seconds ago.

“We have a friend that works with the FBI and she’s trained to do cognitive interviews. It helps in retrieving memories that are suppressed due to trauma.”

“How does it work?”

“It’s just a more in depth interview. She’ll try to get you to remember little details, anything that will help…”

“Put me back there.” you say, making his chest tighten.

“Kind of. Yeah.” Dean notices how your body tenses a bit and then you wrap a hand around one of your wrists. “I’d be with you the whole time.” he adds, hoping that would help a little.

“When would we do it?” He knows that the lack of time will be hard to hear, so he tries to answer carefully.

“Today.” Your eyes widen again and he can see how glossy they’ve become in the last few minutes. “I know it’s sudden, but she happens to be in town and has agreed to do it.” He hates that he’s the reason for your discomfort, but at the same time he wouldn’t want anyone else handling this for him. “I do want you to know though that you don’t have to do this, okay? It’s completely up to you.” You almost seem shocked to hear him say it and he wants to assure you even more that this is your choice, but that’s when the door to the interrogation room opens.

“Dean.” Styles says, dipping his head slightly towards the hall. When Dean gives him a nod and Styles leaves the room, Dean turns back to you.

“I’ll be right back.” When he gets to the door he looks back, heartbroken as you stare down at the table, your grip on your wrist seeming to tighten. “Hi.” he greets the two standing just outside, eyeing the woman as she didn’t look familiar to him.

“Dean, this is Stacy Williams. Stacy…detective Dean Winchester.” Styles introduces the two, letting them shake hands and exchange ‘nice to meet yous’.

“Is our girl in there?” Stacy gestures to the door.

“Yeah. But she hasn’t agreed to it yet. This was all kind of…last minute.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry I can’t stick around longer but I’ve got fires to put out in a few other states so…” When she shrugs the two men nod in understanding.

“Well, we appreciate you hanging around for just a bit longer for this.”

“Yes.” Dean agrees with his partner. “Thank you.”

“Of course! It’s no problem at all.” Seeming legitimately okay with this extra task, that takes one weight off of Dean’s shoulders. But not the heaviest one.

“Okay, I’m gonna,” Tossing his thumb over his shoulder Dean excuses himself with a nod and enters the interrogation room again.

Your head is lower than it was when he left and your eyes almost looked closed from where he stood. Not wanting to disturb you, he cautiously makes his way to the chair he previously took over, his eyes never leaving you as he does. Your grip on your wrist never stopped and knowing that it was a comfort thing, it hurt him even more. The interview hasn’t even started and you’re reliving the pain you went through already. For all he knew you probably felt the ropes around your wrists as if they never left.

“Honey? Listen, you…”

“I can’t.” your voice is beyond fragile. The high pitched cry made it an almost silent reply. To Dean, it sounded even more heartbreaking than when you were in the hospital back when you were first brought in, and that just added more guilt onto his shoulders..

“What?” He asks gently, not sure if he heard you right because of the emotional response and that’s when you look up. Your eyes are red, tears silently spilling down the front of your shirt while your body is shaking just enough for him to notice.

“I can’t.” you say again, your head frantically jolting from side to side. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry!” Falling into a full on sob, Dean jumps up from his chair and moves around the table. He wastes no time in turning your chair and crouching down in front of you and wrapping his arms around you, hoping it’s comforting enough to calm you down.

“It’s okay.” he repeats a few more times, trying to bring down the sobs and your heavy breathing.

Of course he’s slightly disappointed in your answer, but as you’re the woman he loves, he’s partly grateful that you turned it down knowing that it would take more of a toll on you than this did.

As Dean stepped out into the hall Eddie and Stacy came out of the adjoining room. Seeing this, Dean knew they probably knew that the interview wasn’t going to happen.

With regret in his expression he apologizes to Stacy and thanks her again for hanging out for a bit when she definitely didn’t need to. After goodbyes are exchanged, the two men watch her walk away and then Dean lets out a heavy sigh.

“Can you do me a favor?” he finally says, getting Eddie’s attention.

“Of course.”

“Can you go grab my jacket?” Locking eyes, Eddie turns confused. “It’s on the back of my chair.”

“It’s kind of warm outside, you sure you want…”

“It’s not for me.” Dean quickly cuts him off and that’s when Eddie glances at the door that held you inside and he nods faintly.

When Dean reenters the room not long after that, his heart hurts at how drained you are. Still sitting in the metal chair you’re now hunched over and resting your head on your crossed arms. Though the sobs stopped a while ago, tears were still slowly escaping the eyes he loved so much.

“You ready to go home?” You never answered him, but he never needed you to.

Your eyes slowly lifted to look up at him and he tried to give you a comforting grin before helping you up from your seat. Thankfully Eddie came in a few seconds after that, jacket in hand.

“Thanks, man.”

“Yeah.” Styles nods, feeling the heaviness that took up the room. “You need anything else?” he asks after Dean wraps the jacket around your shoulders and the three of you start for the door.

“No, that’s okay. Thanks.” Even with the declined assistance, Eddie walked the two of you through the precinct and all the way to the car.

“What about my car?” you ask when Dean walks you to the passenger side of his Baby.

“I’ll get it later.” he tells you in a comforting tone, his hand lightly rubbing your back as he helps you into the car.

“Drive safe, okay?” Eddie says to Dean as he walks around the front of the vehicle and then he leans in a bit to look at you. “Get some rest alright?” he doesn’t expect an answer and he doesn’t need one, but seeing as you’re Dean’s fiance that means that you’re also a friend of his and he cares about the both of you.

“Call me if you need anything.” he adds as he looks across the cabin to the driver. When Dean gives him a nod, he steps away from the car and lets them pull out.

He knows he shouldn’t, but there’s a guilt that weighs on him because this was all his idea in the first place. He knows that he should have just pushed that thought out of his head the second it entered and never looked back.

But what’s done is done and at least him and Dean wouldn’t be left with any ‘what if’s’.

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witch-hazels-musings · 2 years

Note

hi! can i get a divine reading for thoma, with the aroma of coffee and symbols of anchor, necklace, and star? thank you!

aroma: coffee (domestic) | symbols: anchor (stable love life), necklace (admiration), star (protection)

:: thoma x gn reader | sfw - fluff | tasseography event | teyvat memories

“Hey, hey, not yet,” Thoma scolded you as he carefully placed the large pot in the middle of the table. You recoiled your hand, mouth turning down into a pout which made him laugh. “I still have a few things to bring over, just wait a bit longer.”

“Uugh, alright.” you replied, crossing your arms and gazing at the delicious food he had prepared. This was a special day, one where he promised he’d take care of all the bits and pieces. Once a month the two of you spoil the other. Last month, you took Thoma out to one of his favorite food stalls before walking to a quiet, secluded spot near Inazuma city to watch the stars. Truth be told, you expected he’d want a little more pampering, or spoiling, but he explained he was perfectly content as long as he could keep his head in your lap and talk with you late into the evening. This month it was your turn, and you begged him to play the Hot Pot game with you.

“Here we go,” Thoma placed a tray full of interesting ingredients next to the pot. Luckily you weren’t playing with his boss, otherwise you were sure some of those would be horrible, inedible ingredients that would make all of you sick. Instead it was an assortment of both your favorite things. Meats, veggies, potatoes, noodles and a few extra bits that Thoma was certain to make you try. He might be spoiling you, but he also wanted the best for you - and that meant trying new things that would keep you healthy (boo Thoma, you are always so thoughtful).

“So, do you want to go at the same time or?” You were so giddy, so excited to play this with him that you couldn’t contain the radiant smile stretching your lips or stop yourself from bouncing.

“How about we pick a few ingredients each, then put them in the pot together?”

“Okay!”

The two of you took your time carefully identifying the items to throw in the pot. Thoma let you go first, his hand covering his eyes so he didn’t accidently peak at what you were doing. Once you were ready, you did the same and soon it was time to dump them all in.

“Here we go,” Thoma said as he lifted the lid off the pot. “You put yours in then I’ll go.” Nodding, you waited until his eyes were closed before picking up several choices from the tray, you tapped his hand when you were done, closed your eyes and waited for the sound of the lid to tell you he was finished. “Now we wait!”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Haha, that’s part of the game. Here,” he asked for your plate and started to place several place holder items onto it. A pile of steaming, sticky rice, a few dumplings he made especially for you. A nice variety of them but not too many that you’d get full before the game even started.

When he handed your plate back, you took a bite and nearly passed out at the flavor. “These taste incredible.”

“Thank you,” he replied, cheeks turning a shade of pink at your compliment.

“You’re an incredible cook, Thoma. That’s why I let you cook all the time,” you explained, a twinge of guilt in your chest. It’s not that you didn’t try to cook, it’s just that ... well, it didn’t always turn out so great.

“Don’t feel bad now, okay?” he stated as if he knew what you were thinking - but he always did. “I don’t mind cooking. Plus, I get to see your reaction which makes it worth it.”

You swallowed the food in your mouth but kept a close eye on him. If he wasn’t the most adorable thing in all the world, and by the way he flashed his eyes at you before shyly looking away, perhaps he thought the same. “Thoma, are you flirting with me?”

“I’m simply expressing my feelings.”

“Well keep it up, because I like you too.” You both smiled at the other and if you were close enough you would have kissed him on his rosy cheeks. So, instead, you laid your hand on the table and when he placed his on top you let your fingers dance across his palm.

For a while, the two of you enjoyed the conversation while you waited for the food to be ready. Thoma checked it every once in a while, or refilled your drink. At least once you forced him to stay where he was while you ran and grabbed another pitcher of water and freshly pressed fruit cocktails. Neither of you drank alcohol, but you did enjoy the complexities of the beverages, so instead you made your own ‘virgin’ equivalents.

“Is it ready?” You asked as you refilled his drink, hand resting on his shoulder so you wouldn’t fall on top of him.

“I -- mmm - I think it is!”

“Excellent!” Quickly, you kissed the top of his head before returning to your side of the table. When your legs were comfortably crossed under you, you readied your chopsticks for the kill. “Me first.”

“Alright,” Thoma laughed and opened the lid to reveal a puff of steam and an aroma you couldn’t quite place. “Smells ... different.”

“It’ll be awesome,” you explained as you reached in to grab the first thing you could. When you could feel it securely in your grip, you closed your eyes and placed the food in your mouth. “-Haafa” It was hot but there was no mistaking what is was, “phobabo!”

“Haha, what?”

“Potato!” You yelled but covered your mouth so you didn’t laugh the food out.

“How lucky, your favorite.” You nodded and let the delicious vegetable melt in your mouth while Thoma fished around for something himself. By the time you ate yours, he had grabbed something and was starting to chew.

This was so exciting that you found yourself laughing ridiculously. “So ...?”

“... iph thiph ...” Thoma’s eyes shot open and when he swallowed he seemed shocked by his identification, “rice cake?”

“Mmhm!”

“But that wasn’t on the ...”

“I made it myself. My own secret ingredient,” you beamed and clapped to yourself. It was so hard to surprise Thoma but this time you got him and you were so glad that was the first thing he tasted.

“I thought it was my day to spoil you?”

Chuckling, you closed your eyes and reached into the pot again, “Making you happy does spoil me.” When you grabbed something else and placed it in your mouth again before letting it cool, Thoma found himself in awe of you.

His life wasn’t always the easiest. It was work every day, survival all the time, but with you he felt he could finally relax. With you he finally felt like someone was looking after him in ways he couldn’t foresee.

“Here, try this one,” you hummed as you cupped the dripping food with your hand and waited for him to take a bite.

“With pleasure,” Thoma vowed, his heart fuller at this moment than it ever had been before.

all works & ideas created by Hazel, recreations, reposts not allowed even with credit provided

#witch hazels event #hazels event - tasseography #tasseography event #genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #thoma #thoma x reader #genshin thoma #genshin impact thoma

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nabibeans · 21 days

Text

Unexpected: Before Ateez

Part 3: TW:: sasaeng fan, transphobia, physical assault.

•

Their dinner was quiet; Seonghwa’s mother giving Hongjoong an insight on what pregnancy would look like for the first three months, barely any showing, morning sickness, aches, chills, etc. He’d feel like he had the flu rather than being pregnant, and that was okay for Hongjoong, he wasn’t really all that excited for all the stuff that came with pregnancy. But he was excited to meet his baby when that time came; to be a parent with Seonghwa, to have the rest of Ateez as uncles. Finishing up their meal Seonghwa’s mother got up to pay for the bill leaving the young couple at the table.

“Feeling a little better?” Seonghwa asked, rubbing his lover’s shoulder. “Yeah much better, way less freaked out now.” Hongjoong nodded as he wiped his hands on a napkin. “I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be back. Tell eomma?” Seonghwa nodded, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek before sending him off. Hongjoong checked twice before slipping into the men’s restroom; thankfully it was empty so he would have no problem slipping into a stall, locking the stall he pulled his pants down to do his business then paused. A pair of footsteps headed towards his exact stall, then a knock. “Uhm..I’m in here?” He squeaked out pulling his pants back up. “Girls aren’t allowed in the men’s restroom. Get out.” Hongjoong scoffed. “I’m a man too, can I just pee and then I’ll leave?” A violent tug on the stall popped the lock, a taller man stood in the door way now. “I said, girls aren’t allowed in here. I heard your conversation, you’re pregnant. So that means you’re a woman right Hongjoong ah~” his blood turned to ice, fear crawling up his spine. “I’m…I’m a man, men can be pregnant. Not all men have a penis-“ a hand tugged on his hair, pulling him out of the stall and to the floor. “You’re no man Kim Hongjoong, KQ had no right debuting a tranny! You should be in a girl group!” A harsh kick was done to his back, causing the smaller to vomit from the force. “Leave me alone…I’ll get out…just stop.” Hongjoong tried to crawl away, only to have his ankle stepped on. A scream left his mouth, he could feel the bone crack, hear it even. “Fucking listen to me Hongjoong-ah…I’ve been following you since Mixnine. And you don’t deserve to be on the brink of debut, so why don’t you get up, clean your face, and use the bathroom you belong in you freak.” The man kicked him once more before leaving; Hongjoong shivered on the floor, pulling out his phone he typed a message to Seonghwa,

🐿️: come to the men’s restroom, I need you.

He slowly got off the floor, shaking as he limped over to the sink to wash the vomit off his face and hair. It didn’t take long for Seonghwa to come rushing in with a worried look, “what happened!? Are you okay!? Is the baby okay?” Seonghwa’s hand immediately going to his stomach made Hongjoong melt, already thinking about how protective Seonghwa would be during the pregnancy. “Some asshole came in and kicked me…told me I was a girl so I should use the girls bathrooms….I thought I’d escape this after high school. I guess not.” Tears fell down his face, dripping onto the sink beneath him, “just because I’m having a baby doesn’t make me a girl…tons of trans men have babies.” Seonghwa comforted his boyfriend by tugging him into his arms, rubbing his back gently. “Hey, don’t worry about assholes like that. Do you still need to go?” Hongjoong nodded, “I just needed to pee it takes five seconds.” , “go. I’ll keep watch:” Hongjoong wiped his tears and nodded, kissing his boyfriend quickly before entering the stall again, Seonghwa keeping his promise and guarding it the whole time.

Coming out of the restroom Seonghwa’s mother looked worried, “Hongjoong ah, you were in the bathroom for a long time are you okay?” Hongjoong nodded, not wanting to scare his eomma. “Yeah I’m okay, shy bladder.” She seemed to have bought the excuse. “Alright, let’s get you boys home.” The drive home was quiet; Hongjoong’s body starting to feel the pain making him groan, which he excused as muscle pain from dance practice. The boys thanked Seonghwa’s mother for dinner then headed into the apartment; where Seonghwa quickly pulled his boyfriend into a kiss, “let me check your injuries okay? See how bad they are.” , “they aren’t bad, just bruises and maybe a sprained ankle. We can get it looked at tomorrow. I want to forget what happened in the bathroom.” His hands ran up his boyfriend’s chest, “then I’ll help you forget.” The two shared a heated kiss as they stumbled into their bedroom, locking the door behind them.

•

Seonghwa woke up first the next morning; admiring the sight of Hongjoong naked beside him, blanket wrapped around his chest to hide what was underneath. Leaning down to press a kiss to his lovers forehead he slipped out of bed and pulled on his boxers and tank top, he’d just make breakfast in bed for the both of them. Grabbing his phone he decided to check his notifications as he walked into the kitchen; nothing too out of the ordinary, the members complaining about the naughty noises they’d heard, a good morning text from their manager in the group chat, an unknown number texting him…unknown number??

Tapping the notification Seonghwa had assumed it was just a spam text, oh how wrong he was;

📰: Trainee Kim Hongjoong of KQ Entertainment is transgender? And expecting his first child with fellow KQ Trainee park Seonghwa?

His blood froze. Ice flowing through his veins. “Oh fuck-“ he let out a shaky breath, the sound of a door being thrown open and frantic footsteps were what made him turn around, “Seonghwa-hyung! This is bad!” Wooyoung was only in his boxers when he shoved his phone in Seonghwa’s face.

📰: KQ trainees expecting child? Openly lgbt member is none other than Kim Hongjoong? Former Mixnine contestant?

“This is bad! Is Hongjoong awake!? He’s gonna flip. You remember what happened last time he was outed.” Seonghwa did remember, very well in fact. The boy had stopped eating and didn’t talk to anyone for weeks. Now there was a baby involved; his baby, and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to his child. “No he hasn’t, go sneak his phone off the nightstand, when he ask where it is tell him it broke. I have a spare he can have.” Seonghwa walked over to the closet they kept their extra junk, pulling out a small white Apple box containing an IPhone 8 he’d been given by an atiny despite already having the iPhone X himself. “We gotta keep him from knowing until we know how this got leaked. And put a shirt on!” Wooyoung sheepishly nodded as he ran off, attending to what Seonghwa had asked.

Hongjoong would believe his phone stopped working; he wouldn’t believe they weren’t hiding something from him, but he’d have to assume the other members didn’t get the same news articles. And if they did…who was the one who sent them?

#ateez #kpop #hongjoong #ateez fanfic #seonghwa #non canon #lgbtqia

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littlerit · 7 months

Note

🏅for the fanfic ask game

Thanks for the ask! 🧡

What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

Oooh okay. So really the only fic I’m working on right now is The Time Traveller’s Life. And there are a couple of things for it that I’m proud of recently!

In October it was the three year anniversary since I posted the very first chapter on AO3 - so belated happy birthday to TTL - and I’m really proud of it because it’s my first ever longfic, and I honestly thought I’d lose interest, so the challenge was to complete it. And here we are 3 years later, and I’ve never lost interest (lost some momentum at times, but never stopped), 46 chapters in, and the end is hopefully somewhere in sight, even if it might not be in 2023 as I’d hoped back in January…..

When I started writing TTL I didn’t necessarily write in narrative/story order the way I do now (I’d say chronological, but considering the story is all about dropping back and forth through time, thats a bust) so I’d write some exciting/key scenes as and when the ideas came to me, then go and back fill the gaps. That means that for nearly three years I’ve had a scene that is still yet to be posted (think it’s chapter 48?), sat in the master draft. Well recently, I caught up to the scene! It’s mostly finished, but in the interest of keeping up momentum for NaNo I’ve skipped it and carried on with the story, as finishing it off was stalling me. But yet, that’s it, thats the last pre-written scene I had left, everything else I’m now writing with nothing further ahead of me to link up to! and that’s exciting

Aaaaand speaking of lots of writing. The draft broke over 170k recently and um, wow. Lots of words. I originally set out to do 60-70k, maybe 15 chapters. It’s probably going to break (or come close to) 200k all in. Ooops?

#fanfic ask game #time travellers life

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no-droids · 3 years

Text

Home

gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!

A/N: Hey yall!!! So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read! School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕

Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!! As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!

Day 5–11:13am:

You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot. Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider. You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns. The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.

Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime. Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip. You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago. On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes. Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.

It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.

“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it. “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it. Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy. Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you. Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.

“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth. “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”

Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours. “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids. “They start at eight.”

The fireworks, you almost forgot. You know what? Today is a good day. You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one. The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back. Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.

Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates. The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago. The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask. Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes. It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by. Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony. Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color. Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.

Extravagant, magnificent are both words. Floral is another.

It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city. As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming. The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete. You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you. Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers. Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops. Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them. You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.

About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch. There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself. Good intentions, terrible idea. Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours. It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at. Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.

Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language. Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different. It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy. Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it. Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on. There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.

At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin. You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.

A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession. First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always. Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs. Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions. The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…

Through it all, you think of Din. No matter the faces, the sights you see. There’s someone juggling. There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts. There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed. Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din. Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you. You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year. You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go. For you, he’d go.

Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second. Why… Why was that scene so vivid? So wistful? You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din. But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation. Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him. Why? You want to travel the galaxy, right? You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?

For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.

More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over. You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.

“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress. So many fucking people here, you know her pain. “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”

She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.

“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you. “Before anyone knows they’re missing. Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while? You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”

Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task. Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be. Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days. The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.

“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees. It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem. “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”

You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word. You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.

Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you. The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet. The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.

“How did you find us so fast?” One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.

“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn. Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off. All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult. “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”

“Are you gonna rat us out?” The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.

“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away. “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”

You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.

The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second. Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective. Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—

He’s here… isn’t he?

Only, there’s nothing. Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will. You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.

It’s so… unexpected, this feeling. It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter. You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens. Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not. Playing with you from so far away.

This… this is a taunt.

The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary. Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was. This is scarily sophisticated. Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you. You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid. You know him with your eyes closed. You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace. Not because you can see it, not really, not directly. But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.

“You okay, Nerida?”

The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you. The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.

“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room. He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least. But you’re not stupid, you know what this means. You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way. He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down. You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.

“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools. “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left. Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows. You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering. Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.

Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place. When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily. A purple fruit. She must’ve saved it for you.

Maker, fuck yes. It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors. As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards. It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him. You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.

Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it? It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float. It’s just a thing. Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives. Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles. You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time. You don’t know what else you’d call it. Love is the only word. To love, to know. To hold in the heart.

Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group. You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.

“Where is everyone going?” You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem. It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together. They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately. Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next. A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.

“The eastern part of the city!” Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings. “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”

“Is…” You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn. Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway. “Is it part of an ocean?”

Naydee shakes her head. “A really big lake!”

Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it. You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view. And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.

Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage. You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze. So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you. Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes. They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown. You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.

And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on. All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out. They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything. You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city. It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time. You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.

And that’s when you see him.

But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen. You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for. Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away… This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes. If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.

You have a decision to make, very quickly. Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear. Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time. Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.

You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping. Baby. He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion. You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to. You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.

Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly. What do you do, what do you do?

No matter what, you know it’s over. Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result. What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you? The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.

Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear. When you do see me… try to outrun.

You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.

Unless…

Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor. You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right. This maybe has a… two percent chance of working? Maybe? Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have? Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.

You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead. He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing. Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left. Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—

A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.

Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear. Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.

You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.

“Miss Nerida?” A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him. Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.

Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner. They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units. Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you. Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.

Just a few more hours, kid. A few more hours.

Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.

“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking. Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong. “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”

They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you. You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it. She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.

“What did you do?” He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice. He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed? The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.

You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory. It worked. It worked. You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip. Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.

“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze. “Don’t get caught.”

There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds. “You look beautiful.”

You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you. The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

He had you. You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere. In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you. Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.

But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you. They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following. It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.

He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour. It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.

Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes. There was… a moment. Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet—

No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be. It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.

But he can’t get rid of it. Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered. The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear. It was silvery, he’s almost certain. Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.

Color. Everywhere. Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it. Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream. The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.

That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would. You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.

You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now. You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud. You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though. Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be. Fully, without worry or fear.

Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—

It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen. So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it. You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.

As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response. There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.

Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.

Din.

You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above. You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself. “Do you always see in black and white?”

It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does. “Only when I’m tracking someone.”

The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you. You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is. He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?” You ask after a moment. This whole time, everything has been grey for him?

“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all. “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”

For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying. Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly. He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him. “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”

He takes a second, before clarifying for you. “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”

So that was the ultimatum. He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again. Does he not understand? Does he not know what you know? Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him. It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest. And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive. Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t. Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.

“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky. It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point. “You’d find me without the helmet. And I’d find you.”

The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick. You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course. That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred. Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight. This is a celebration of life and family. Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching. A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.

“Think so?” He asks softly. He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant. You’re able to hear it in his words. You don’t know why, though. Doesn’t he believe you? Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way. Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all. Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love. This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that? How would the Mandalorians reconcile that? You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face. It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.

“I know so.” For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does. Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you. “Will you look at the sky?”

“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t. Not the way you want him to. And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you? The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest. You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them. All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time. You want him to know the significance of that.

“With color?” You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.

“I…” Din wants to argue, or at least say it again. He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off. It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.

“How do I fix it then?” You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold. How do you fix this problem? How do you convince him to look with you? You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left. “Do you want me to come look for you? It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away. Look at the sky.”

It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay. You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response. You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you. He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.

But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again. This must be the end, they saved the best for last. Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they��ve managed to fit into one single frame.

“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you. Maker, it is, isn’t it? Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying. Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.

It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways. It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.

Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.

“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on. “Come and find me.”

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you. Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.

Stars, that’s a lot of children. They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.

“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her. “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up. At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you. Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day. You’re going to have to say goodbye now.

“What happened to your family?” She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention. “Have you been in touch with them? If not, I’m sure you can come back with us. It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”

You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.

But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?

There’s more people here. More danger, but better places to hide. It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense. But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women. He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.

It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule. Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses? Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time? No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.

“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that. Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end. Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond. Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical. Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it. You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.

“I…” Quick, come up with something. You clear your throat. “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them. I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”

Naydee smiles and nods. “Sounds perfect.”

Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t. You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is. You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them. But with Din, you don’t have any walls. They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since. It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.

Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is. Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back. The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out. You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.

You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is. You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time. He could be anywhere now. Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view. One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so. Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.

The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach. Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy. If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it. These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous. Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.

It doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong. This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so. It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier. Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet. Why? Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right. What’s he waiting for? You can’t have won. It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.

“Sorry!” Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face. “Didn’t mean to scare you! I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there. “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”

You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus. She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din. Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you. You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far. Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards. You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls. What is he doing?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it. “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently. The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.

Fuck, you just need to breathe. As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax. You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance. Breathe. Focus. There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.

Can you eat? You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy. You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now. The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard. It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there. The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there. Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator. Five minutes. You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you. Can you feel him? Is he closing in?

You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath. Focus on that feeling from earlier. The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards. Can you feel him?

Something catches your eye.

Or no… it doesn’t, does it? Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss. The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual. Nothing else.

But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall. It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat. He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?

Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back. You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—

—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.

Run. Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t. Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass. He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can. The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away. Where’s the kid? How did he get those robes? Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?

Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.

You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them. It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward. Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster. Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.

As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you. Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.

Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you. Walk right by… Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing. He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place. The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight. Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away. The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster. It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.

You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet. Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door. Where is he? There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them? Wasn’t he right behind you?

Behind you.

There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react. Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.

Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast. The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him. With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw. When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.

But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you. Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone. You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—

Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force. He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.

Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared. The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.

But then, your downfall. Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it. He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.

Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.

The whole thing is like coming home. You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is. Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you. Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else. His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it. It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough. The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way. His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet. You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck. You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.

“Where’s the baby?” You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.

“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling. Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now. It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps. “You lost, I caught you in time.”

“Did you?” You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you. Suddenly—

—Bong—

Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells…

…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.

There’s a moment. Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring. It’s not going to.

One o’clock.

You think he puts it together. The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago. The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic. Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together. He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work. Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.

But then Din moves so suddenly. You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side. You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.

Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl. The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber. He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that. Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside. You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up. It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.

Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise. Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.

But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that? First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you. It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.

You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.

“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you. Fuck, what is happening, what is happening? It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in. You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.

Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is. You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand. And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does. He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.

Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again. Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead. He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source. He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow? You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—

Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.” Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip. His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.

“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore. What does he want to see? You losing your mind again? Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?

Fucking… apparently. It’s what happens, after all. You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too. He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied. This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat. You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.

“I missed you, sweet girl. Did you miss me?” It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements. You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.

Did you just cum? You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now. The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak. If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak? You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.

When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.

“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out. He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him. It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder. He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—

Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation. It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it? That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally. Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder. That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.

This feels different from before, though. It’s deep, purposefully so. His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can. You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp. His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all. You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.

You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier. Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you. There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.

You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.

Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place. You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still. He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm. They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.

“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth. “Shh, tell me—”

“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”

“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”

“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”

You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds. Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough. You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

He kisses you to stop himself. But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that. Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light. It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever. He loves you. He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would. You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did. You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that. Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes. He loves you. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.

When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.

Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t. He loves you. You’re looking into his eyes right now. You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you. He loves you. Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—

The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.

You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat. Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—

Maker. You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before. You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face. A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you. You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.

Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again. Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight. Completely lovestruck.

How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him? You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see. His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees. It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.

Stars. He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met. Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you. Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away. For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.

Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.

“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips. “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”

You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second. He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw. Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own. “Some guy was wearing it.”

It takes you a second.

“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat. It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed. “What did you do to him? Where is he?”

He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long. He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence. He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.

“Ma—”

“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.

You don’t know which word to emphasize. A fucking closet? They’re? Plural? Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him. “They're in a closet.”

“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him. His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead. Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.” He kisses your neck so gently. “It was an accident.”

You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is. You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before. “Did they put up a fight?”

“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more. “You did.” Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again. “Did so good. Fought hard, outsmarted me. Pretty fucking girl.”

And then your eyes pop open as you feel it. His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it. He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?

“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful. Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it. Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second. You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but… “Mando, we can’t—”

His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper. Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time. It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.

“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips. “Not smart. Bad idea to fuck again.”

Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder. His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.

“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person. “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”

Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants. Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.

“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment. He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.

***

Commotion.

After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery. Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting. Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.

Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore. Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way. No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.

When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown. Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about. A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.

Hm. Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children. A mystery that may never be solved.

It makes you take a second. The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit. Of course. Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene. In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.

“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”

The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in. Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you. Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are? You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.

“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it. It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine. “It’s just…” Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond. “My… kid.”

Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit. “That is your child?”

You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you. All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return. What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.

“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms. “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip. “You making friends?”

He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging. He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet. No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?

“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes. “He’s… uh. Not great at sharing. We’ll work on it.”

Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing. Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.

Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side. They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond. Fuck, he’s a presence. An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse. Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone. Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.

You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything. Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.

Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded. And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning. He loves you, too. How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not. You love each other. You’re family.

So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.

“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him. “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”

It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you. Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears. Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye. You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.

Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh. A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh. Where the fuck did he go so quick? You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue. He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.

You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them. The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.

***

About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over. You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.

“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side. You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways. “I gave them the night off.”

“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.

“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any. “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”

Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought. “Wait. What do you mean you gave the robe back?”

He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet. “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”

If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement. You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.

“You fucked me wearing it, though.” Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.

“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator. Did he not even consider this?

“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him. You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him. “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then. You gave it. Back.”

Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time. You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact. You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.

Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.

You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle. Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.

The crib—he forgot the crib—

“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board. Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice. He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky. It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look. He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing. It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.

You raise your voice. “Din?!”

“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.

“What about the crib?” You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.

“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily. Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them. You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.

Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.

Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you. His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.

What’s he doing? He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.

Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.

“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”

Okay, well. You could just about fucking cry.

“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him. He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day. “It ain’t fresh. Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”

The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy. He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him. He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well. Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.

You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.

“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him. It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush. Big man, makes me happy. Strong man, loves me, knows me. Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.

Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm. You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you. When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.

“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.

“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once. “It has to cool down.”

He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him. Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave. He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.

So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits. Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it. For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be. You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.

“Well, do you wanna just…” You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors. “Shop around for a bit?”

“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic. Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.

“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction. Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore. “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”

From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner. Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights. It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense. Muted, softer, more romantic.

“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything. You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here. “That stale caf was the last of it.”

Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.

“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his. “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”

So that’s what you do. Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him. At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too. There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.

You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner. The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his. You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky. He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less. You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.

You think he might shower? You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest. It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.

Home.

***

@followwhereshegoes Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #smut #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

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luvfae · 2 years

Note

Hey can you write something with Rue Bennett x fem reader? Rue and reader once had something, but reader started ignoring Rue and acting like a brat, so Rue got tired of it and they had rough sex. you can put Rue using a strap on and overstimulating reader?

BRAT

fandom: euphoria

parings: rue x f reader

warnings: smut, swearing, slight degrading, fingering, oral (reader receiving), choking, overstimulation

You and Rue had a spark, you would flirt all the time, kiss when no one was looking. The pair of you were on the verge of becoming a couple when you pulled away. You didn’t flirt back anymore, didn’t kiss her or let her kiss you. You started acting different and Rue noticed this. Eventually you ignored her completely.

But it wasn’t Rue’s fault it was your own insecurities that made you act this way. Scared that she would leave you one day and you’d have a broken heart. It was easier to be the one to leave and even though it stung, it was better than having a broken heart.

It was another Monday, you were at your locker, ignoring Rue as she attempted to speak with you.

“Fuck me, Y/N. What is your problem?” Rue snapped, grabbing your wrist as you went to walk away from her. “You’re being a fucking bitch. Just tell me what I did so we can get over it and finish where we left off,” Rue said.

You glanced over at her, snatching your wrist from her grip. “Just leave me alone Rue,” you said.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” Rue said. You pursed your lips, looking away from her. “You think you’re better than me, huh? Is it because I do drugs, is that the problem? Acting all high and mighty, sticking your nose up when I walk past you. What are you the fucking queen?” Rue snapped.

Your eyes slightly tearing up at her words, you wished you could spill your heart out to her but you were simply too afraid.

“It’s fucked up, Y/N,” Rue said, getting in your face. You looked down at your feet. Her fingers pinching your chin forcing you to look up at her. “You’re fucked up. Leading me on, wasting my time,” Rue said.

“I didn’t lead you on,” you mumbled.

Rue scoffed. “You have a funny way of not leading someone on,” Rue said. You rolled your eyes at her, which only made her angrier. Rue grabbed your wrist, dragging you down the corridor.

“What are you doing, Rue? Let go of me!” You said, trying to pull yourself away from her grip.

“No. Think it’s time I taught you a lesson,” Rue said, dragging you into the girls room and shoving you inside an empty stall. “You drive me fucking crazy, Y/N,” Rue said, pushing you up against the locked door.

You looked up at her. “You wanna be a brat? Fine. You wanna ignore me? Fine. But good luck trying to keep yourself away from me once i’m finished with you,” Rue said, her hand wrapping around your throat.

You squeezed your thighs together, speechless at her words. Adrenaline and excitement running through your veins.

“But first,” Rue paused. “Consent?” You nodded frantically and she smirked, pushing her lips against yours. Her grip on your throat tightening. Your hands reached for her hips, pulling your body closer to hers.

She pushed on your stomach, forcing you against the stall again. “I’m in control, not you,” Rue said. You nodded, her hand trailing down to your skirt, hiking it up and pushing your underwear aside. Her fingers ran down your slit, spreading your wetness through your folds. “So wet already,” Rue sneered.

Without any warning Rue plunged two fingers deep inside of you and you near screamed. She thrusted her fingers in and out of you at a fast pace and you squirmed against her. Your hands flying to your mouth.

“Don’t make a noise, wouldn’t want anyone to know the brat is getting finger fucked,” Rue said. You bit down on your tongue, holding back moans as she continued to fuck your with her long slender fingers. “Look at you, falling apart. Not so tough now are you?” Rue said.

You legs shook violently against her as you came on her fingers. “You finish already?” Rue asked with a laugh. “I’m not finished with you yet,” Rue said, her fingers moving even faster, her other hand releasing from your neck and moving down to your swollen clit.

“Fuck Rue,” you moaned, rolling your hips against her fingers. “Didn’t know you had this side to you,” you said, throwing your head back.

“When someone I like is being a bitch I tend to get pissed off,” Rue said. You moaned quietly, looking at her with innocent eyes, your second orgasm building up. “Now shut the fuck up and don’t talk unless you’re moaning my name,” Rue said.

You came again, walls clenching against her rough fingers, hands covering your mouth once again as your orgasm tore through your entire body. You started feeling extremely sensitive, you grabbed her wrist.

“I don’t know if I can take anymore,” you said. Rue pulled her fingers out of you, sucking them clean. She dropped to her knees, pulling your underwear to you ankles and immediately started licking your slit.

Your hands tangled around her messy hair, pushing yourself harder against her. It hurt but felt so good at the same time. Your third orgasm for the day hitting you quicker than you expected, hips jolting against her tongue.

Tears pricked your eyes at how sensitive you were becoming, Rue was overstimulating the fuck out of you. You didn’t know how much more you could take and sighed in relief once she stopped lapping you up.

“I’m not stopping until you’ve came five times,” Rue said, rubbing your clit with her fingers. “Better be quick or we’ll be late for class,” Rue said, burying her head in between your legs again.

You bit your lip, feeling your fourth orgasm sneaking up on you already. Only two more to go, you thought to yourself as it became more and more sensitive with each lick. Soon enough you came again, pushing Rue’s face away from you.

“That’s four, be a good girl and cum for me one more time,” Rue said. You looked down at her and nodded slowly. “Are you sorry for being a brat?” Rue asked. You nodded again. “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes, i’m sorry,” you stuttered.

Rue smiled, pushing three fingers inside of you. Your eyes widened, moans falling from your lips as she pump in and out of you roughly. “Cum for me, Y/N,” Rue said.

“I want too,” you replied, looking down at her.

“Of course you do, you slut,” Rue said.

“I’m your slut, Rue. Only want you to touch me like t-this,” you whined. Rue smiled, pushing a forth finger into you. “Oh fuck,” you moaned, pain and pleasure mixing together.

It didn’t take long for your fifth and final orgasm to come, you shook so violently against her, legs wobbling hard. A small scream escaping your lips at how overstimulated you were. Rue pulled her fingers from you, standing up and shoving them into your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” Rue said as your tongue swirled around her fingers, cleaning your juices off of her. “You did so good,” Rue smiled, kissing your lips.

“I’m sorry, Rue,” you said, pulling your underwear up and fixing your skirt. “I shouldn’t of pushed you away. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” you said, frowning at her.

Rue sighed with a content smile. “I forgive you. Let’s go to class,” Rue said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and kissing your cheek.

#euphoria #euphoria imagine #hbo euphoria #rue bennett #rue x y/n #rue x reader #rue x you #rue bennett x y/n #rue bennett x you #rue bennett x reader #rue euphoria #rue bennett smut #rue smut #euphoria smut #rue bennett fanfic

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 3 years

Text

Dryhumping with Ateez

Ateez Masterlist Group Masterlist

Ask: If you're okay with writing it, could I request dryhumping with ateez?

Haven’t written a request for Ateez in a minute. This is fun!

Suggestive so... under the cut

Hongjoong:

The room was filled with heavy breathing as your fingers toyed with the hair on the back of his neck. Hongjoong was so incredibly frustrated, being pressed between you and the couch, still fully clothed. But it was just too risky to take it all off, the thought of someone walking, too risky. So you opted for this, your kisses turning sloppy as you rolled your hips over his.

You could feel how hard he was through his sweatpants, groaning as your hips stalled. “Don’t stop.” Hongjoong sighed against your lips, his hands moving down to your hips to push you down on him harder. You smiled into the kiss due to his actions, then bit down on his lip slightly, just to drive him a little more insane.

His breathing got heavier as you moved to nip at his neck, just loving every little response you could get. It made it even more satisfying that you could get this response from him, when all of your clothes were on.

“God if we weren’t in Eden’s studio-”

Seonghwa:

Seonghwa had been pining after you all day, even though it was just a rare lazy day at the dorm. But he hadn’t acted on it. Not until you joined him on the couch and he couldn’t help himself but climb on top of you.

Settled between your legs, you wrapped your legs around his waist. Just so you could bring him closer as he bit down on the skin of your neck, making you gasp. His sweatpants were sitting low on his hips as he grinded against you, your hands resting on the skin of his lower back to push him against you harder. You needed the friction. “Off.” He mumbled into your neck, lifting your shirt in the process.

It got tossed to the other side of the room, leaving you in your shorts and not much else. You pushed his hips down on you further as his hands groped at your skin and leaving you gasping.

“Nice to know I can get you like this with all of my clothes on.”

Yunho:

The second you walked into his room in that skirt, it was game over for him. The moment you walked in, he pulled you into his lap as he sat in his desk chair. Yunho’s hands found their way to your ass as you settled, straddling his lap and he massaged the flesh. His fingers toyed with the fabric of your panties before pushing you down on him.

“You look so pretty.” Yunho said, pushing you down on his clothed bulge again and making you gasp. The thin fabric of your underwear wasn’t doing much to prevent fiction or stopping you from feeling how excited he was. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, but continued rolling your hips over his.

You could already feel yourself getting close, maybe it was his harsh grip on you, but you could feel yourself dripping through your underwear. The feeling made you moan against his lips as your hips stuttered, only for his hands to push you down on him once more.

“Keep going, don’t stop until you cum.”

Yeosang:

He was shy about it, wanting to touch you, but you just seemed so focussed on the movie that he didn’t dare to make the move. Simply opting for spooning you instead, but you could feel his hard on pressing into your back and it made you feel like you needed to take the first step.

You turned around in Yeosang’s arms, surprising him and then pressed him back into his mattress. It took him a moment but he understood what you were doing, helping you straddle his waist and allowing your clothed core to sit on top of his. He smiled at you, brushing your hairs out of your face as you ground your hips down on his.

“Next time just tell me.” You said softly and grabbed his hands, pinning them over his head as you rolled figure eights with your hips. He looked at you with those cloudy eyes and parted lips as he let out a groan.

“I promise I will, just please don’t stop.”

San:

San’s tongue grazing over the skin of your neck, it sent you spiraling. You felt drunk on him, so much so that clothes didn’t need to come off. So now there you were, in the backseat of the van praying to God no one would come in because you needed sweet release.

Pulling your hair, your back arched into him as he continued bucking his hips up into yours. You reached to pull his shirt off, only for him to stop you and tut. “I’m in the middle of schedule, I can’t get undressed.” He smirked at you, feeling the speed of your hips picking up on his. “Just going to have to get off like this.” He added on and leaned back, to watch you get off.

“Not fair.” You choked out between breaths, grinding down on him a little harder just wanting to cum. He let out a chuckle and his hand moved to grip the back of your neck to keep you steady.

“I never said anything about being fair.”

Mingi:

His sweet touches were what got you here, pressed between him and the little couch in the studio. Mingi’s hips rolled slowly over your clothed core and his face was burried into your neck. Small whimpers coming from his lips as your fingers threaded through his hair.

“I really want to be inside you.” His voice nearly cracked due to need, presing his clothed bulge against you harder. You moaned at his words and actions, your hand moved his head so that you could look at his face. His hooded eyes locking with yours before kissing you harshly.

His tongue fought with yours as his hands moved up your body, his hips keeping their brutal pace. His breathing picking up substantially because he was so close to cumming. The fact that he was still fully clothed really just turned him on even more.

“I feel so close already.”

Wooyoung:

It had started out with a dance video he had seen one day, one dancer lays on the ground while the other, for lack of better word: grinds on them. Wooyoung knew what he was doing when he asked you to lay on the ground and well, now you were here. With him between your legs and greedily sucking marks onto your collarbones.

“This was your plan wasn’t it?” You gasped, feeling sweatpant covered bulge press against you. “Maybe.” He smiled at you cheekily and you bucked your hips to meet his. “You’re lucky -” You got cut off by the feeling of his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you closer. “That I don’t mind.” You finished your sentence and he laughed again.

You were completely caged between him and the floor, his arms by your head to support his weight. Frustrated, you moved to push his sweatpants down and he stopped you.

“I wanna see just how worked up I can get you with our clothes on... think of it as an experiment.”

Jongho:

It had started with you just needing a spot to sit and opted for his lap, you didn’t quite mean to work him up in front of the others. So now you were here, straddling his waist on his bed while the others were sat in the living room.

Jongho moved your hair out of your face as you rolled your hips over his, his hands then moving under your shirt sneakily. The action garnered a smile from you, especially as he cupped your chest and egged on your actions. “You have no idea how badly I wanna rip your clothes off. But I’m scared they’re gonna walk in.” He explained softly and you whimpered. Just really wanting him to ruin you.

He flipped your both over, pressing you into the sheets and grinding down on you. “Guess this will just have to suffice.” He mumbled before kissing you roughly, hands still groping at your chest as he dry fucked you.

“But later, either when they’re asleep or if they leave, all of this is coming off.”

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pleniloon · 3 years

Text

Matsuri

characters: ayaka, ayato, itto, thoma, yae miko, yoimiya

summary: what attending a festival with them is like.

warnings: none; itto’s leaked namecard below the cut!

note: i really didn’t mean to go so long without posting ;;; i’ve been trying to finish naruto and working on fics for that, i’m so sorry!!! please take some of the inazuma crew as an apology <33

⋆ ayaka is excited, but nervous! you’d think she would know everything about festivals and how to celebrate, but she’s only ever been to the festival with the traveler.

⋆ very familiar with the textbook “rules” and customs, but inexperienced when it comes to the actual celebration. she can rattle off all the traditional activities, but when it comes to playing the games… please help her.

⋆ ayaka loves being around people! seeing children light up when they win a prize, couples laugh and share festive treats, or boys try to one-up each other in every game - all of it brings a smile to her face.

⋆ after your first festival together, she’ll stay up all night (or, at least later that night) thinking about the wonderful time she had. if you win her something, she’ll keep it next to her bed or fall asleep cuddling it.

⋆ she’ll also ramble to ayato the next morning about how amazing the festival was and recommend he attend the next one!

⋆ ayato is hesitant, when you first bring up the idea. but, after a bit of convincing from yourself and thoma, he decides to go on the last day.

⋆ because it’s the last day of the festival, there’s a lot less people - however, the yashiro commissioner does not go unrecognized by the vendors and the few other attendees.

⋆ once you visit a few stalls and the “wow factor” dies down, he gets a lot more comfortable. he doesn’t play a lot of games, but he watches others play and celebrates with them! (he played one game just to win you a prize, though <3)

⋆ at the end of the night, he’ll take your hand and stroll through the street, admiring the colorful lights from the hanging lanterns. he’s relaxed, and you can see that the stress from politics hasn’t yet returned.

⋆ you remember how thoma helped convince him to attend? yeah, he just had to promise to play the hot pot game with ayato again. poor thoma, the festival food only gave him new ideas.

⋆ you remember the competitive boys from ayaka’s headcanons? that’s itto. his competitive nature is only stirred up by the festivities.

⋆ wanna casually play a game? nope! you’re going to compete! who can scoop the most goldfish? who can get the most rings in ring toss? who can eat the most yakitori before getting sick?

⋆ your only salvation is that any prize itto wins, he gives to you. he pretends it’s all about competition, but he’s really just using it as an excuse to win you every prize at the festival. you should bring a bag.

⋆ as always, he loves the kids!! if he sees a child struggling at a (rigged) game, he’ll help them win the biggest prize! if he sees a kid eyeing a treat, he’ll buy out the entire cart! really, no gesture is too much.

⋆ by the time you head home, you have so many prizes and have eaten so much that itto has to carry everything, as well as you. you better sleep well, because you’re going again tomorrow.

⋆ yae miko loves festivals, of course. as the guuji of grand narukami shrine, she is immensely pleased with the increased traffic around these times.

⋆ she doesn’t attend the festival herself, though. it’s much too noisy for her liking. she prefers to stay at the shrine, awarding blessings and greeting those who make the journey all the way from the city.

⋆ despite this, one thing she does like is the food - specifically, gohei mochi. if you bring her some when you visit the shrine, she’ll love you forever. really, it is that easy to win her affection. at least for the day.

⋆ a wonderful thing about mt. yougou is that it provides an excellent view of the firework show. when the sun begins to set and the visitors start to dwindle, miko will sit at the edge of the peak and watch the fireworks.

⋆ if you wear a kitsune mask around her, expect her to light up and comment on how cute you look. it’s just something she finds so incredibly endearing.

⋆ thoma is perhaps the biggest fan of festivals, next to yoimiya, that is. being from mondstadt, the nation with plenty of wonderful festivals of its own, thoma loves attending them with you!

⋆ at first, he was a bit shocked at the difference in traditions. the nations of freedom and eternity celebrate things quite differently, after all. he quickly gets the hang of it, though.

⋆ be prepared to do everything, because thoma wants to play every game and try every food at least once. “we won’t get the full experience if we don’t!”, he says. it doesn’t matter if he loses a game or dislikes a food, it won’t stop him from running from booth-to-booth.

⋆ probably blushes until his cheeks burn the first time you win him a prize. after getting over his initial feelings of both embarrassment and delight, though, he won’t let go of it until you get home. in fact, he brags to everyone about how his partner is the best at whatever game you won.

⋆ offers to carry you home at the end of the night, since you did a lot of running around that day. you expected a piggyback ride, only for him to scoop you up in his arms (idc how big you are, he’s strong) and carry you close to his chest. the festivals in inazuma may be different from those in mondstadt, but with you at his side, he feels right at home.

⋆ yoimiya is the queen of the summer festival, of course she always attends them!! you better be able to keep up with her!

⋆ she always runs to the goldfish scooping first - at this point, it’s tradition. she has a giant tank at home that she puts her fish in after the festival. yes, they all have adorable names; there were two that really liked each other, so she named them after you and her.

⋆ probably gets dragged into competing with itto, either by the oni himself or the little kids insisting that she beat him to win their prizes back. win or lose, she’ll take you to her favorite food stall to celebrate the competition!

⋆ when the sun starts to set, no matter what you’re doing at the time, yoimiya will grab your hand and drag you to her favorite spot on amakane island. the fireworks are the best part of the festival, after all.

⋆ definitely loves cuddling while watching the show - just don’t try to steal her attention away. as the sky above inazuma city lights up, you can feel the joy radiating off of her. her favorite activity with her favorite person… yes, that is the best part.

a/n: can you tell that i was going thru ayato & thoma brainrot? they’re just so,,, sigh <3

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #ayaka headcanons #ayaka x reader #ayato headcanons #ayato x reader #itto headcanons #itto x reader #yae miko headcanons #yae miko x reader #thoma headcanons #thoma x reader #yoimiya headcanons #yoimiya x reader #pleni.writes

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rickmandowneyjr · 3 years

Text

Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

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statticscribbles · 2 years

Text

Weekend Trip

Summary: BBC Merlin; Morgana/Male Reader, Morgana wants to escape the castle and reader helps

”Lady Morgana.” You bow to her, you know no one else is around so you don’t have to, but you always do; just in case; you assure yourself it has nothing to do with how she smiles at you, or how her hand lingers on your shoulder while she chides you about simply calling her Morgana when you’re alone.

“Y/N, how was training today?”

“Prince Arthur seems determined to run us into the ground; I’m looking forward to him and the other knights going off on that hunting trip.”

“Oh yes that’s coming up; will you be gone long?”

“I’m not going; I’ll be here to look over the castle.”

“Good. I feel better knowing you’re here to keep me safe.”

“I’m glad I can help you.”

”You’re cleaning your horse's stall when Morgana walks by, she hesitates and then stops in the courtyard. You finish mucking out the portion of the stall and turn to her, waiting for her to say something. She notices you’ve stopped working and walks over quickly.

“Y/N; I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“Of course; what is it?”

“I would like to go on a trip.”

“To where; should Uther not be…”

“No; I want to escape the castle; the watchfulness.”

“And you want me; one of those that watch you to help?”

“You take care of me; not the way Uther thinks I should be caged.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“As far away as I can go without anyone figuring out I’m gone or who I am.”

“Of course. Give me the rest of the day to plan.” She smiles and you and ducks her head a little in thanks.

“Lady Morgana..”

“Y/N, must you be so formal?”

“Only if you continue to be so beautiful.” She laughs at this and give you a genuine smile which you return

“Are you ready to go?” You ask, dropping your voice a little and shifting from foot to foot. You feel so much lighter; you always do once your armor is gone. She nods; despite having told her to wear some of Gwen’s clothes she stills looks like a lady of the court. You wonder if smudging dirt on her face would help at all or just make more people stare.

You don’t tell her where you’re riding to; partially because you like how excited she looks while she’s guessing and partially because you made sure this place wasn’t likely to be on any maps; and she could easily say she got lost on a ride and you went after her if anyone found out.

“This is interesting.” She calms her horse and walks through the village with you; you’re leading her a little farther back, to the only house that’s farther away from the village center.

“Why out here; was this the only place you could find lodging?”

“This house is closer to the other town it’s used to board those that pass through; no one will be suspicious of us; but-” before you can say anything she walks through the front door and you finish tying the horses before you follow her in; she already has half the place smitten with her; but you can feel all the attention turn to you and you almost want to duck back and hide.

“Y/N! You finally left camelot to come visit! And here we were thinking you’re too good for us now?” You cringe a little and can see Morgana watching with interest.

“Y/N you’ve been through here before?”

“Been here; Y/N grew up here. Did you have a good ride; I hope my son wasn’t too bothersome.” Your mom beams at Morgana and you know this is going to be a very long trip away from the castle.

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎.

thank you so much to @daisy-bakugo for letting me participate in her vice city collab! i had a blast writing this piece, and i’m terribly sorry this is so long that was a mistake (and congrats on 2k!!) also, the phattest of thank you’s to @eijishimas for brainstorming/beta-ing :) you saved me ☺🤲🏼

katsuki bakugou and eijirou kirishima | f!reader, time travel sex, guns, prostitute/stripper idrk!reader, tw!blood (non-descriptive), dacryphilia, squirting, spit roasting, d-penn, shower sex, multiple rounds. minors dni!

— 5k words (yikes)

"Say, Sweetheart. You wanna get outta here?"

Las Vegas, Nevada. April 15th, Year 3036.

"You ready?"

Mina shoots you a look through the golden-lit mirror, wiggling her eyebrows. You roll your eyes and finish dusting the powder off your cheeks before rising to your feet and tugging at the belt of your silk robe. "My answer's the same every night."

Vice City. A strip club and casino in Las Vegas, Nevada, where opposites collide—the poor and the rich, the beautiful and the ugly, the smart and the stupid. There's no judgment because here, they're all degenerates looking for a good time, and you're just a pretty face with a good body.

As your silk robe hits the floor, it's kicked to the side with a heel, and you saunter through the beaded entrance to your private room and into the vibrating club. Giving your bodyguard a solid pat on the shoulder as you watch the sea of bodies shake, you complete the ritual.

"No creeps?" You demand more than request. He nods curtly.

"No creeps."

You give him a cute little smile and let your hand linger for a little longer than necessary before stepping into the neon red chaos of the strip club. Because what do the rich and the poor have in common?

They're all addicts.

Surprisingly, humanity doesn’t kill the planet.

Mother Nature's still standing strong—though the sun is a bit swollen—and space exploration solved that overpopulation issue. Bill Gates taught us all how to avoid a climate disaster and Tesla put Ford out of business. Humanity is much bigger than earth now; we're no longer people of the planet, but an intergalactic species that still eat Costco pizza rolls for dinner but killed Cable along with cars with wheels. Costco still exists—Starbucks doesn't.

Still no aliens, though.

"See something you like, Cutie?"

In your defense, he's been standing over here with his friends for ages—almost like they're casing the damn place—but those ruby red eyes kept floating your way regardless, and you'd rather bag it with someone your age before you're requested by another seventy-year-old. The redhead blinks like he's shocked you came over here in the first place—like he didn't watch you sashay yourself to the other side of the club just for him. You suppose the name fits. Cutie.

He looks at you with a strangely giddy look on his face before he's licking his lips and swallowing, eyes flickering to the blondie to his right.

"I'll be back in like, twenty minutes, man."

The blond gives him an exasperated look and groans—his other two friends don't notice. "Eiji—"

"Twenty minutes!" The redhead yells over the music as you not-so-subtly pull him away. Your regular GILF looks your way, and you suppress the queasy feeling in knowing that at least you'll be able to fuck someone from your decade.

"You got a wallet, Cutie?" You purr as you two approach the back room. The redhead winks, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the fattest black leather wallet you've seen in a long time.

"Don't go anywhere without it," he says, but falters when your bodyguard holds his hand out with a request for fifty bucks. "I—whoa dude, why am I paying you?"

"Because that's how it goes. The young lady gets her share," your bodyguard clarifies. The redhead looks at you for what seems to be for confirmation. You nod.

"Alright," he resigns with a shrug, stuffing a fifty into your bodyguard's sweaty hand. The man grunts but clears some of the beads guarding the entrance to your private room anyways, giving you two enough space to go inside.

"No door? That seems a little...exposing," the redhead snorts to himself before he's holding his hand out, despite the fact that you’re already nestling comfortably in his lap. "Eijirou, by the way."

You take his hand apprehensively, and he snorts at your confused frown. Eijirou's big—painfully so, and you feel small sat upon his thick thighs because you are in comparison—and he has to curve his back a bit so you're at eye-level. "What? No one's introduced themselves to you before?"

You shake your head, "Usually they just throw me onto the bed and get right to it."

Eijirou rolls his eyes at that, and you don't realize he's guiding your hips into a smooth roll until the harsh fabric of his jeans brushes against you in the best way. He moves you in time with the music vibrating the walls, "I guess that makes me more of a gentleman, then."

His lips hover over yours and yet he never advances, doesn't move to kiss you on the lips, nothing—it nearly has you buzzing. So does the hand he pins you to his lap with. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

"What's your name, Sweetheart," he asks lowly. You give it to him, and he grins.

"Y/N,” Eijirou tries on his lips before he confirms it with a nod. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Aren't you the flatterer," you purr, coiling your arms around your neck. His hand finds your ass and you're almost positive he's going to close the gap between you two until he says:

"Who were you runnin' from, Y/N?”

Years in the business help build a mask and you wear yours well, with that cute little smile as you cock your head to the side and ask, "I'm afraid I'm not following."

"Oh, I think you are," he says, looking you dead in the eyes. The gravity in his face doesn't falter. "Who was it."

As he stares into your soul, your own eyes avert to the sheets. "What's it to you?"

"It's nothing to me, really," he shrugs off his jacket and places it on the bed next to him before returning to his initial position—or perhaps, closer. "But I happen to find you real cute, and cute things deserve to feel safe, no?"

"In case you haven't checked, this isn't a very safe place," you scoff, removing your arms from his neck to cross them over your chest. "And I don't appreciate idiots like you trying to save someone like me just 'cause you wanna get your dick wet more than once."

Eijirou raises an eyebrow but he never stalls, "Oh? This happens often then?"

"I—" you falter, "...No."

"C'mon, Sweetheart," Eijirou tugs you by the waist and you have to press your hands to his chest to keep him from falling forwards. "You don't wanna stay in this place, do you?"

"It's my job," you defend with a huff. The redhead shrugs.

"Sure, but don't you want a little adventure? A little excitement in your life?"

"Like there isn't enough excitement right here?" You snort. Eijirou teeters his head back and forth, though the daring look never fades.

"But something tells me you're bored," he says with a near sarcastic face, clicking his tongue. "Something tells me you find the idea of something new exciting."

You open your mouth to respond but he keeps you from doing so, finally pressing his lips to yours. You nearly squeal in surprise but somehow, you find yourself kissing back with a passion you've never kissed another client with before—and maybe, just maybe, the idea of something new doesn't sound too bad.

Eijirou pulls away with a cocky grin like he knew you'd like it. Like he knew that'd be the catalyst for your response to what he says next, and maybe, he's not as much of an idiot as you thought.

And maybe you’re more of an idiot than you thought.

"Say, Sweetheart. You wanna get outta here?"

"Yes," you breathe, like an idiot, because you were wholly and utterly unprepared for what happens next.

Eijirou gives you the cutest smile, before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a gun.

He sees your expression change and lifts both hands, pointing the black pistol towards the ceiling, "I—hey wait, you're gonna be fine, okay? I won't shoot you."

You cower and he pouts. Apparently, this wasn't the reaction he was expecting at all.

"I swear! I'm mentally stable, see?" He flips it sideways with a grin, "the safety's on."

You hate it that his comment makes you trust him. Slightly.

"C'mon," Eijirou smiles, reaching his gunless hand out for you to take. You do, albeit reluctantly. "I won't do anything too stupid. Just...shake things up a bit."

Shake things up a bit, Eijirou says, and yet the first thing he does is when you two exit the room is press the pistol to your bodyguard’s head.

"Eijirou," you hiss. Luckily no one in the club has noticed, yet, but you doubt their ignorance will last for long.

"I'm gonna need my fifty back, buddy," Eijirou pats the man on the back, and it's strange—you've always thought your bodyguard to be a big guy, but he looks rather petite next to the redhead. Your bodyguard reaches for his walkie-talkie, but Eijirou tuts, tapping his hand away with the tip of his gun.

"Hey dude, I'm not gonna shoot you. See? The safety's on," He repeats, flashing the barrel. Your bodyguard's eyes widen, and so do yours.

The safety isn't on.

"So, that fifty," Eijirou purrs, and your bodyguard stuffs the bill into his chest with a grumble. Eijirou hums, satisfied, and gives the crumpled bill to you without a second glance, too busy nodding to his friend on the other side of the strip club. A noirette from across the way nods back.

Pop-pop!

It's fucking chaos, as anyone would expect when blindly firing into a crowded club. Eijirou keeps a tight hold on your hand as he and his other three boys storm towards the pit bosses working the casinos with guns a-blazing, demanding they fill their pillowcases like a bunch of C-class thugs.

What the fuck did you get yourself into.

"This is not what I meant by excitement," you hiss through grit teeth as a terrified pit boss fills Eijirou's bag like he's a greedy kid with an attitude on Halloween, while your co-workers cower under the bar and pool tables. Eijirou sticks his tongue your way.

"This isn't the exciting part, Little Miss Excitement."

It's the steady sound of sirens that has your eyes widening, and the fact that you're positive they're getting louder. You catch sight of your bodyguard on his walkie-talkie, big body cowering behind the smallest trashcan, and turn back just in time to see Eijirou squint as he aims and shoots bullseye.

"That is."

The police have lost sight of two vehicles carrying the four armed men who robbed Vice City Casino and Club tonight at roughly 2:53 am. Witnesses say they came in a group of four but left with an exotic dancer named—

The moment the blondie from the club sees you walk through the door, he’s tossing the stack of bills in his hand with a sigh.

"Katsuki, Y/N. Y/N, Katsuki."

Katsuki looks nothing but happy, and refuses to acknowledge your presence as he crosses his arms.

"Ei. What the hell did we say about witnesses."

"Um," the redhead rubs his lips together before wearily looking at you, and you hike his jacket further up your shoulder. At least he was decent enough to give you that. She's an exception?"

"Not a fuckin' thing," the blond grunts, turning to you to flash a tight smile. "Goodbye."

"I—wait," Eijirou skates until he's stood over the ash-blond, with a hand on his shoulder and the other braced against the table. Speaking in a quieter voice, he says, "C'mon man. The poor thing was practically begging to get outta there."

The ash-blond does nothing but sigh before shoving a palm into a pile of money to push himself into the kitchen—and subsequently further away from you.

"She's gonna call the cops," Katsuki grunts wearily from the island, eyes narrowed. Eijirou follows.

"She's not gonna call the cops, dude," the redhead scoffs at the outlandish idea. "You heard the radio! At this point, she's as deep in it as we are."

As they continue to go back and forth over the island, you let your eyes wander. It’s a penthouse, and rather homely, with near egg yolk lighting, high walls, and big windows. You can't help but think about how you're in a strangely expensive part of the city before remembering this evening's events. No wonder they can afford such a nice place.

You find yourself smiling at a particular corner with a frustrating amount of photos stuffed on a little glass table, one that contains a selfie of the two housemates in high school uniforms. There's a ring sat in front of it, one that glints gold when you hold it up to your face, and if you squint you can see little flecks of green in the red of the ruby. It looks scarily close to an engagement ring.

"Hey, what's this?"

Both of their eyes rocket from the conversation to see you slip the delicate thing onto your ring finger.

"Don't touch it!" Eijirou tenses before realizing it's much too late for that. "Er—at least don't twist the top."

"The...top?" You ask, lifting your hand until it's at eye level.

"Yeah like, the jewel thingy," the redhead gestures to the ruby—and you can't stop thinking about how it's almost the same color as his hair. Waddling into the kitchen with your eye still trained on the thing, you ask:

"What is it?"

"A time-travel device," the ash-blond grunts. Eyes still full of suspicion, he watches you and the redhead interact over the island with arms crossed over his chest and reclining against the sink. You frown.

"Aren't those usually...bigger?" Because even though it's 3036, time-travel is still fairly new (space exploration took a long time, okay) and all the machines you've seen are at least the size of a shower. And yet, this one can sit on your pinky.

"Kats has been working on some stuff," Eijirou beams and it edges on proud; you notice the ash-blond near blushes with a huff as you hop to sit on the marble counter.

"'S nothin'."

You stare at the thing in faint amazement, and Katsuki kicks off the sink to near the island. Lifting an eyebrow, you say, "You know you could get rich off something like this? Instead of robbing strip clubs for a living.”

The ash-blond scoffs, and you wonder if someone else has told him that before. "If I gave that to the public, I have no fuckin' clue what they'd do with that shit."

And you shrug, supposing he's right—time-travel devices are hard to get your hands on, and that's for a reason. If everyone starts jumping around in the time-space continuum, fucking with shit, the world will promptly and utterly collapse. Sounds fun, doesn't it?

"It doesn't work with a big time range," Katsuki defends with a shrug, sliding his forearms on the counter. "The most it can do is a few hours"

"Not that it makes this any less cool," Eijirou says with a slight bounce. "I personally think it's really fun to play with."

Katsuki rolls his eyes. "That's 'cause you use it to fuck."

You nearly choke.

"I—what?"

"W-Well, okay," Eijirou chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "But also other stuff! Like when I'm really hungry, I might go to the future and take some of my fries. Future me's fries, that is."

"Or you'll try to take future-me’s goddamn burger," Katsuki growls. You flip the ring over like there's anything left to see.

"How often do you use it?"

"Nightly," Katsuki answers for him. Your eyebrows lift. Oh wow.

"It—it's not nightly," Eijirou defends weakly, huffing and puffing. "Weekly maybe, but—"

"Almost every night," Katsuki sums for him, giving you a little grin. You snort back before your eyes drop to the ring again.

"Uh oh," the redhead almost gasps, fingers thrumming on the island on either side of your being, "She's thinkin' about it."

"I'm not thinking about it," you huff, though your eyes never leave the ring. It's an...interesting prospect.

"Oh, you're totally thinking about it," Katsuki grunts, and you struggle to find where his enthusiasm came from. What happened to goodbye?

"C'mon," Eijirou tempts with a casual toss of the head. He touches your shoulder—Katsuki touches the other. "See what happens."

"What if—" you stare at the ring with pursed lips, fingers grabbing the ruby. "What if it's random? Or if we're not where we expect to be in a few hours or something."

Eijirou shrugs. "It's always a gamble, but that's where the fun is, no?"

You look down at the thing with a sigh. You suppose.

In one quick move, you twist the gem and screw your eyes shut. At first, you feel nothing, but then there's a sudden head rush, and you can easily see how someone can get addicted to this.

You hear a faint sound, one that could be excused as a rush of wind past your ears, before you feel your knees against a hard surface and your body in a different position.

"Oh, I like this much better."

You open to your eyes to a much different sight than you closed them to.

Katsuki and Eijirou look gargantuan when you’re on your knees, your back flush against the refrigerator and eyes watering due to the cock nestled halfway down your throat. You choke in surprise from the sensation, hands rushing to keep Katsuki from cutting your oxygen supply off for good as Eijirou stands impatient, cock hard in his hand and drooling for attention.

"F-Fuck," the ash-blond wheezes, seemingly just as taken aback from the position as you are. "Your mouth is fuckin' heaven."

"C'mon Sweetheart, don't ignore me now," EIjirou purrs, chuckling as the head of his cock hits your cheek with a wet slap. "At least give me a little something."

You grab his cock harder than you would've out of slight indignance, grinning around the other when it makes him hiss; Eijirou joins Katsuki in resting a hand on the fridge door for purchase.

You weren't the best at Vice City for nothing, after all.

"Shit, loosen that grip a little, will ya?" Eijirou wheezes—you don't listen, and his chest shudders when you seem to only move faster.

"'M too fuckin' close, where's that ring," Katsuki blabbers more than he grunts, and you lift your hand just in time for him to twist the jewel again, sending you three rocketing into the past.

You cough and splutter atop the kitchen island, chest heaving as you finally get the air Katsuki's cock allows. The head rush definitely doesn't help, and you find yourself getting dizzy enough to grab for someone's hand.

"Breathe, Princess," Katsuki says, and Eijirou lifts your hand to his chest so yours can rise and fall with his.

"So that's," you wheeze once you're able to get some semblance of a breath back. "That's time travel sex, huh?"

"Yeah," Eijirou says, a little breathless himself. "Addictive, right?"

"A little," you giggle, and find yourself looking for the ring again. Katsuki snorts.

"What, you wanna go back or somethin'?"

You flush red, eyes darting to the walls guilty, "A little bi—wah!"

There's a rush and the room morphs again. You would’ve fallen headfirst into a set of white sheets if it weren’t for the fact that you’re sat on Eijirou’s face.

"Hello beautiful~" the redhead singsongs from below, and you can't help but notice your bra is MIA as Katsuki takes a seat behind

you to run his hands up your sides to put the underside of your breasts.

"Pervert," you snort, though you figure you’re just as bad as he is with two of Eijirou's fingers deep in your pussy and Katsuki's hand on your clit. The redhead's leaving hickey after hickey on your inner thighs and you just try your damnest to not fall.

"Only for you," Eijirou winks cheekily, scissoring his fingers, and your hips stutter against his face when he slides his tongue in between.

"Fuckin' love the sounds you make," Katsuki grunts, before his other hand finds your neck and tightens. "And fuck you're so goddamn wet—you love this, don't you?"

You keen with a nod (and suppress the urge to say no shit, Sherlock), and Katsuki's pinching your clit between his two fingers, licking a fat stripe up your neck and chuckling when you shiver.

"What, your clients don't make you feel this good, Sweetheart?" Eijirou practically moans into your cunt, eyebrows folding when you thread your fingers through his hair and yank. "Bet that fifty was worth it, wasn't it?"

"Y-Yeah I—" you whimper, unable to get a sentence past your shuddering chest. "Guys, I'm gonna—"

The bedroom melts back into the kitchen, you're back in Eijirou’s jacket and not sat on his face. Your thighs and neck are hickey-less and yet, you're still so fucking horny.

"I hate you," you seethe, almost immediately, and Eijirou's grin is so wide it bends his eyes.

"Awe, you love me," he giggles and your frown only deepens as you reach for the ring—Katsuki snatches it out of arms way with a tut.

"Ah ah Princess, don't be greedy now," he purrs, but you couldn't give a shit about being greedy, and it shows in the way you quickly grab for it again. Katsuki passes the ring to Eijirou and it easily becomes a game of monkey in the middle.

"Give it—"

"I don't think so, Sweetheart," Eijirou says, pressing a big hand to your face to keep you from going any further. With a smirk, the redhead twists the ring, and suddenly you're full of him on the kitchen counter.

"Fuck baby, you're so tight," he curses behind grit teeth, sweat practically dripping off his shoulders in rivulets as he pushes your face into the kitchen island so hard it's numb. So are your knees. "You're so pretty like this—shit—"

You barely have the room to whimper, let alone answer, and you find Katsuki perched on the opposite counter, weeping cock in hand. The redhead chuckles as you struggle to take all of him, hips squirming as he aims for places you've never been able to hit on your own. "I'd stick your tongue back in your mouth if I were you, Sweetheart. The money’s a little dirty, don't you think?"

And that's when you realize your knees are elevated upon two stacks of green, possibly some of what Katsuki had been counting earlier, and a twenty swims in a pool of drool under your cheek.

"Oh, but I don't think you care," Eijirou grunts, shoving your face deeper into the marble countertop as his hips speed up. "Dirty fuckin' girl. Bet you'd do anything for a fifty."

"I wanna fuck her," Katsuki rushes as if his mouth moves before he can speak. Eijirou wheezes a laugh.

"What, I can't enjoy this?"

"No,” the ash-blond grunts.

"Hmm..." Eijirou debates, though his hips never stop as he gives Katsuki a look and goes, "How about no?"

Katsuki growls at that, and you find your fingers clumsily twisting the ruby on the ring that sits on Eijirou's finger, sending the three of you flinging further into the future.

"Fuck!"

"This isn't the future I was referring to, but I'm not complainin'," Katsuki grunts with a feral grin. You nearly slip due to all the water in the shower and you're positive that you see the sunrise through the window paint Eijirou's skin gold.

"I gotcha, Sweetheart," Eijirou soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your arms while your nails dig into his shoulders, the red lines jagged from how roughly Katsuki fucks you from behind. "Fuck—you're doing so good for us, taking him so well."

You whimper and Katsuki lands a heavy slap on your ass—heavy to the point where you nearly knocks both you and the redhead into the tile behind him. Eijirou's calloused hands find your clit fairly easily, and that's enough to almost send you over the edge, pussy fluttering around Katsuki's cock.

"She's gonna cum," Katsuki grunts. "Can fuckin' feel it."

"Uh oh," the redhead singsongs, turning to you with a grin. "Were you trying to be slick, Sweetheart?”

Though it's difficult, you lift your head, eyes swimming in unshed tears as you choke, "I—n-no, it's jus—"

You're in the bedroom again—this time your back comes in contact with a dresser, metal rattling from the weight Eijirou slams you into it with. The redhead supports you both with two feet planted into the floor and a hand around your waist, grunting into your ear with an exhaustion that implies you've got to be at this for hours.

"Ei-Eiji—"

"I know, Sweetheart," the redhead coos breathlessly, licking up the sweat that runs down your neck. "Just a few more times, okay? Hold on for just a little longer."

You sob, head thunking against the wall as you realize you have no idea where Katsuki is. Though it's only a fleeting thought because before you know it, Eijirou's dropping you to your feet, bending you in half, and railing you into the wall.

"Goddamn," he grunts, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip, "this is—this is the best lay I've had in a fat second."

You pant a laugh, hands pressing into the wall to steady yourself, "Good—good to know the fifty bucks was worth it."

"Oh baby, it was more than worth it," Eijirou hikes your leg up as high as it'll go for a deeper angle and he gets it, his growl melting into a semi-chuckle as you squeal, thighs jumping.

"Fuck Ei!" You scream, and he's tugging your hair to straighten your back out.

"You like it rough, Sweetheart?" He pants into your ear, grabbing your neck for a better grip. You nod as much as you can.

"Y-Yeah—I—" Eijirou drops you until you're stood at a perfect 90-degree angle, "I need—need'ta cum, p-please—"

"Twist the ring, Sweetheart," He pants, resting his hand on the wall next to yours. It still glints gold on his fourth finger in the moonlight, "Get us there together, yeah?"

You don't have to be told twice.

"Mph!"

"Fuck!”

Your knees dig into a mattress again as Katsuki fills your mouth. With his cock down your throat and Eijirou's buried deep in your cunt, there isn't much you can do but take both of them at the same time—though you're positive that's what they intended.

"Shit, me too." Eijirou wheezes a chuckle as his hips piston into you, his sweaty chest sticking to your back while he reaches between your thighs to rub your clit. That’s enough to send you flailing over the edge, moan muffled by Katsuki’s slowly softening cock. Then, with a devilish grin (and before the redhead can cum) Katsuki reaches for the ring on Eijirou’s finger and twists it.

“You asshole,” Eijirou groans, and suddenly you three are back in the shower, with Katsuki’s hips battering into yours as the redhead supports your weight from below. Katsuki chuckles before his grip tightens and he’s filling you with another load.

“C’mon Princess,” Katsuki grunts, reaching for your clit. “Come for us again.”

You choke again before you’re digging your head into Eijirou’s muscled chest with a moan, shaking from the aftershocks Katsuki continues to fuck you through them.

Until the room morphs, and you’re face down on the kitchen counter.

“Fucking finally,” Eijirou wheezes with a bitter chuckle, casually flipping Katsuki the middle finger as he's sat on the opposing counter. “Fuck, you're shaking baby, you gonna cum with me? Yeah?“

Eijirou batters into your cervix and that's the catalyst for your third orgasm. You squeeze so tight you think you may have knocked the wind out of the redhead when his chest crashes into your back, and you open your eyes just in time to see the kitchen melt into the bedroom again—in a time you all have yet to visit.

Your legs are thrown over Katsuki’s shoulders as he pushes your back deeper into Eijirou’s chest, both of their cocks filling you so much and so well it brings tears to your eyes. As your thighs quiver with an impending orgasm, Katsuki’s the first to fall off the edge, eyebrows furrowing as his nails dig into the meat of your thighs.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, voice fucked hoarse and lips bit pink. Eijirou nibbles into your shoulder with a gasp as his sweaty hand finds your clit again, neither of their hips ever stopping.

“Cum for us one more time, Sweetheart,” he pants into your neck before adding another hickey to the collection. Your chest shudders.

“I—I can’t—“

“Oh yes you fuckin’ can,” Katsuki growls, and you squeal as he tweaks a nipple. “I know you got one more in there. Give it.”

Your legs kick against his chest with a curse as you orgasm for the final time—this one much wetter than the last.

“Holy shit,” Eijirou nearly laughs, looking at where the three of you are connected. “Did you just squirt?”

“I—“ your face blends red when you see the absolute and utter mess that sits in Katsuki’s lap, before looking away with a determination to never see it again. “...Maybe.”

“Clean up?” Eijirou asks, eyes flickering to the ash-blond. Katsuki shrugs.

“Nah.”

A rush of wind and you’re sat on the kitchen counter. Eijirou’s jacket protects you from getting goosebumps due to a drop in temperature and though you do shiver, you find your body much more unscathed than it was.

“Hi,” Eijirou chuckles a little breathlessly.

“Hi,” you giggle back, a little nervous but in the best way. “So um...we do all of that tonight?”

“I guess so,” the redhead says a bit cheekily, raising an eyebrow. And then, with a wink, “Probably more.”

You stare at the ring on his hand in awe. Whoa.

"I fuck—fine, we can keep her, Shitty Hair," Katsuki grumbles from his spot near the kitchen sink, and despite the sour look on his face, you can't find a hint of it in his voice. Figures.

"Told you he'd say yes," Eijirou beams with a thumbs up.

"Can we...go do that stuff now?" You ask, albeit a bit hesitantly because...well, usually people are asking to have sex with you. Is this how they feel?

"Of course we can, Sweetheart," the redhead beams, before taking the ring off to place it onto the counter. "It was all a part of the future, after all."

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔 #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou smut #kirishima smut #tw.blood #tw.guns

669 notes · View notes

flowersbby · 4 years

Text

Drawn to You | Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

Warning: Makeout, This is a lil long (I got carried away)

Word count: 3859

It was a typical night for you. You had your music playing faintly in the background while you were writing notes for your anatomy & physiology class when you felt your phone vibrate violently on your desk, which caused your French bulldog, Royal, to wake up from his snoring slumber on your lap. With an annoyed huff, you pick up your phone and notice your best friend Rae had texted you numerous times.

Rae 😴

Hey!

Among Us!

Now!

Need 10th person!

Pleaseeeeee

You stared at the messages for a minute. You were confused on why she asked you of all people. You were the opposite of the many streaming friends she had who were loud, funny, and all around GOOD at games. Your shy character would not fit well on her stream and you knew that. Plus, the only games you’ve played are Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing, which requires no communication with people and you preferred it that way.

You

Why me? I’m in the middle of writing notes.

Rae 😴

There’s this person I want you to meet!

He’s really nice and you’ll warm up to the group in no time, I promise!

I won’t let them be mean to you 😤😤

They’re nice ppl anyway so they wont be mean lol

You

Okay.. let me load up my discord

Rae 😴

Yayy!

I already bought among us for you last time I was over so you’re good to go!

‘What? When did she find the time to buy the game for me? We were literally together the whole time she was here.’ You thought, but quickly dismissed it and loaded up discord. Right as you got online, you got an invite from Rae. You quickly grabbed your headset and adjusted your mic before joining the call. You petted Royal in an attempt to calm your nerves as you saw 9 peoples profile pictures appear in front of you. You only recognized Rae’s, of course.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Rae exclaimed, “Guys, this is my best friend (Y/N)! Introduce yourselves!”

“Hi, I’m Toast!” Said the man with the toast icon. You smiled at his profile picture. You found it cute.

“I’m Jack!” Said an Irish voice. You know Jack. You used to watch his videos a lot.

“I’m Poki!” Said a girl with a really sweet voice, “Nice to meet you!” You were about to say hello back when someone else chimed in.

“Hello, I’m Felix!” You recognized that Swedish accent. He was the most well known YouTuber, of course.

“Nice to meet you!” Said a really soft voice, “I’m Sykkuno!” His voice reminded you of an anime boy. You smiled to yourself.

“Hi, I’m Lily!” Said a really cute and high pitched voice.

“Hi everyon-” You went to introduce yourself properly until you got cut off.

“I’m Corpse.” Said a deep, attractive voice. Your eyes widened for a second, his voice catching you off guard.

“H-hello,” You attempt to say hello again but this time you’re a little shaken up by Corpse’s voice, but you get it together by petting Royal once again. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you all!”

“Your voice is so adorable!” Says Lily. You smile at the fact that someone who’s voice is equally as adorable complimented yours.

“Thank you!” You respond, “Your voice is adorable too, Oh my God!”

Lily giggles at your compliment. “Alright!” Exclaimed Rae, “Ready to play (N/N)?” You quickly realized you forgot to load up Among Us before hand. You were silently kicking yourself for not doing such a simple thing. Now they’re gonna have to wait longer to play because of you and they already waited long enough for you to join the discord call.

“Um..” You stall as you hurriedly click on the Among Us icon. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to load it up.. but it’s loading right now!” Your eyes are glued to the screen as if it’ll make the game boot up faster.

“That’s okay.” Said Corpse in the most kind voice. “It won’t take that long.” You feel heat rushing to your cheeks just by hearing his voice. Who is this man and why is he making you feel like this?

They all agreed with Corpse and continued chatting about whatever they were chatting about before you joined the call. You were half listening as you were trying to figure out what to do as the game loaded up. Just as you were about to ask Rae, Corpse sent you the game code through a private message. You typed “Thank you!” as you quickly entered your name and then the game code.

“Woo! (Y/N)’s here!’ Said Rae happily. “Choose your color and your hat!” ‘Where do I do that?’ You thought to yourself but quickly found it. You wanted to be pink but it wouldn’t let you choose it.

“Why isn’t it letting me choose pink?” You asked.

“It’s because Corpse is pink.” Explained Lily. “He took it from me too.” She said with a sad, but funny, tone.

“I can be a different color.” Corpse said and quickly changed his color from pink to white.

“Oh, Thank you!” You said happily and picked a flower to match it.

“No problem.” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. It made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Are you kidding me?!” Said a laughing Lily. “I literally ARGUED with you about letting me have pink!”

“I sense something happening...” Cooed Rae in a sing songy voice. The whole group then erupted in “Ooooo’s”. This made you blush. You covered your face even though they couldn’t see you and Corpse chuckled, which only made you blush more.

Before the game started they all explained to you how to play so you wouldn’t be lost. This calmed your nerves a bit and when the game started you were happily going around the ship completing your tasks. Watering the plants was your favorite so far since you found it satisfying how the plants grew. You saw Corpse run up to you and you made your character step away a bit because you didn’t want to get killed. He instead ran circles around you and you decided to follow him for the rest of the game for safety. You both encountered Rae and Toast by the vending machines but didn’t think much of it and waited for Corpse to finish his task. Until Rae killed you and Toast killed Corpse. “A double kill?!” You shouted to yourself, causing Royal to wake up and slowly get off your lap. “I’m sorry buddy..” You said to him as he laid down in his dog bed. You turn your attention back to the screen as someone found you and Corpse’s dead bodies.

“Um, bodies found by the vending machines.” Said Felix who didn’t sound all too confident. “Jack where were you?” He asked.

“I was in..” As Jack was about to explain himself you heard a ‘pop’ emit from your headphones and saw a red dot by the messages icon. You clicked it and saw it was a message from Corpse. You completely stopped caring about the arguing going on through your headphones as Jack was trying to claim innocence.

“I like your flower :)” It read. You smiled big and immediately typed back.

Your fingers hovered over the keys thinking about what to type back but you settled on a simple “Thank you :D”.

After two games or so everyone got tired and decided to head out. You all said your goodbyes and watched as each person slowly began to leave the call. You didn’t want to leave until you were sure everybody was gone. Everybody left but Corpse. “Hey..” He said, sounding a little shy but it was probably just because he was tired.

“Hi!” You said a little too excited. You immediately wished you could reword what you said a little calmer.

“So, uh..” He began, “Could I possibly get your number? For Among Us games I mean?” He didn’t sound too sure of himself but him asking this made you beam with excitement.

“Of course.” You said calmer than before, “But I don’t know what help I’d be as I’m terrible at this game.” You giggled.

You typed in chat your number, your fingers shaking slightly. “Nah, I liked playing with you.” He said more confident, “You make it more fun. Even though I haven’t ever spoken to you before.” He chuckled. You smiled at his words. Butterflies formed in your stomach hearing him laugh.

You and Corpse chatted a bit more until he decided he should go, but you wished you guys could have kept talking the whole night. You felt this connection with him that you couldn’t put into words. It felt so easy for you to talk to him and you didn’t feel as nervous around him as the others you met today. There was something so calming about him that washed your fears away. You shook your head from the thoughts and told yourself that you just met him today, you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself but it was hard not to.

You were laying in your bed scrolling through twitter when you got a text.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

hey its corpse

is this (Y/N)?

Your heart skipped a beat. You were excited Corpse texted you so fast, hoping you two could continue talking.

You

That’s me!

I thought you were going to sleep?

Corpse🥺🖤

nah i hardly ever sleep i just left because i didnt want to keep you up

i really enjoyed playing with you

You

I enjoyed playing with you too

We should play together again soon

Corpse🥺🖤

definitely

You’ve begun to become really good friends with Corpse over the past week. You and him would facetime each other whenever you could. You always were on facetime with him, actually. Whenever you were studying, you guys were talking. Whenever he was editing, you guys were talking. When you were about to go to bed, you guys were talking.

Right now, you guys were facetiming as you were studying for an upcoming exam and he was trying to stay awake. You liked having him around when you were studying even if it was through a phone. You didn’t feel pressured to talk or have to worry about an awkward silence with him. It was comfortable silence.

You started to worry that you were keeping him up, though. “You can go to bed if you want,” You said softly as you looked up from your textbook to the black screen propped up against a few books. “ I don’t want to keep you up. You need some rest.”

“No..” He muttered, “I like having you around..”

“I like having you around too Corpsie but we can talk when you wake up.” You told him a little sternly in an effort to convince him to go to bed.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked out of the blue.

You paused before answering and shifted your gaze to the black screen once again. “Yeah sure, go ahead.”

“Do you want to maybe stay over here for a bit?” He asked, “Whenever you’re free, I mean. If you don’t want to I get that too I just feel so drawn to you I want you closer to me. Is that weird? I’m sorry if that’s weird. Actually, forget I said-”

“I’d love to come over.” You told him with a smile. “When would you want me to be there?”

“As soon as possible.” He said in his raspy, tired voice. Butterflies formed in your stomach and you felt your heart skip a beat. This man was something else.

“I can be over there in the morning..” You start, “I just have to pack and everything. Is it okay if I bring Royal? I don’t want to leave him with my sister.” You look over to Royal sleeping peacefully on your bed, snoring away.

“Hell yeah!” Corpse exclaimed, “I love animals! Bring him over.” You giggled at his excitement.

Corpse ended up falling asleep soon after and you ended the call. As you were getting ready for bed you began to think of what Corpse’s place would be like and what you guys would do. You were definitely going to show him Stardew Valley, that was for sure. You pondered the thought of you finally confessing to him that you wanted to be not just his friend, but girlfriend. You’ve been wanting to do it for awhile now but you get too scared and end up chickening out, so you figured if he liked you like you like him, he’d make the first move. You started to make up scenarios in your head about finally hanging out with Corpse in person as you drifted off to sleep, hearing Royal snoring peacefully in the background.

It was the next morning and as soon as you woke up you changed into your favorite outfit and began to pack. You didn’t know how long you were staying for but you decided to pack about 2 weeks worth of clothes just to be on the safe side. Royal was sitting on the floor watching you as you hurried from your closet to the suitcase on your bed. You were happily humming as you were excited about the day. You heard your phone buzz and you quickly grabbed it from your bed as you saw the name pop up on the screen.

Corpse🥺🖤

hey :)

heres the address:

You

Thanks! and hello 😊

You two texted until you were ready to go. You were definitely NOT looking forward to driving two and a half hours from LA to San Diego but you were so excited to see Corpse that the dread of the long car ride washed away.

You put Royal into his harness and plopped him in the back seat. He looked at you confused since he rarely ever gets to go for rides in the car. “We’re going to see a friend!” You tell him while petting his head. He then laid down and began to close his eyes.

After what seemed like forever you were finally outside Corpse’s apartment. You grabbed Royal and attached his leash to his harness and then proceeded to grab your giant (and heavy) suitcase out of the trunk. You struggled getting the suitcase up the apartment building stairs but you managed. You felt a sense of relief that his apartment building had an elevator so you didn’t have to deal with more stairs. The ones at the entrance were enough. While you were waiting for the elevator to take you to his floor you took this opportunity to text him.

You

On my way up!

Almost immediately after you sent it he read it. He started typing but the three dots quickly disappeared. Before you could question it the elevator doors opened to his floor. “Come on, Bud!” You said to Royal and motioned for him to go ahead. Royal got up from his sitting stance and lead the way. After passing 2 other doors, you were at Corpse’s. You knocked two times.

You heard shuffling on the other side and the door knob turning shortly after. Before you knew it, Corpse was in front of you. His eyes were looking at yours. You immediately smiled. “Hi.” Corpse said with a slight smile as well.

“Hi..” You said shyly. You didn’t know how to react now that he was in front of you and not behind a screen. He stepped aside and motioned for you to come inside. You entered his apartment and set your suitcase by the couch. Royal was pawing at Corpse’s leg, begging for pets.

“Aww, hi buddy!” Corpse said excitedly. “He’s so well behaved.” Corpse was talking to you now.

“Yeah, it took work though.” You laughed slightly. “Your place is really nice.” You said as you looked around. You noticed all of his mirrors were covered up, but you decided not to ask him about that. He probably had his reasons.

“Thank you.” Corpse said as he looked at you. “You look pretty.”

You blushed and turned your head away from him so he couldn’t see your pink cheeks. “Thank you.”

Corpse cleared his throat, “So uh, I don’t have a guest bedroom so I’ll take the couch for however long you want to stay.”

You quickly shot your head at him. “No no no I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own apartment.” You argued with him.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” Corpse stated.

“Then we’ll share your bed.” You said with a shrug and headed towards his room to set your suitcase down, Royal following closely behind you. You didn’t see anything wrong with it. You and Rae share one whenever you guys sleep over at each other’s house and you thought this was no different

“O-okay.” He responded and quickly followed after you, “So, this is my room.” he said as you and him both entered.

“I like it!” You exclaimed as you looked around. You liked how dark it was in there. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you. That smile.. You thought and quickly fumbled with your suitcase as you set it down by his closet. Corpse came closer to you.

“Can I give you a hug?” Corpse said a little shyly, as if I’d say no.

“Of course!” You said and wrapped your arms around his neck. He was taken aback but quickly put his hands around your waist. You caught a whiff of his mild cologne which made you want to stay in the hug a little longer. You didn’t want to be weird though and pulled away from the embrace.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” He said as he looked into your eyes. I could kiss him right now, oh my God. Your mind raced, but you managed to get out some words.

“I am, too.” You said.

It’s only been about a day since you’ve been over at Corpse’s. Sharing the bed seems to be no big deal as he barely seems to sleep. You so far liked being there with him.

Right now, you were on the phone with an overly excited Rae.

“You’re at his HOUSE?!” She yelled excitedly in your ear. Your face cringed a little bit from the yelling.

“Yeah,” You told her, “He has a really nice place.” You said as you scanned his living room.

“I knew you guys would hit it off!” Rae said, “I should be a matchmaker or something.” You blushed at her comment.

“Nothing’s happened yet.” You said quietly, not wanting Corpse to hear you.

“Girl, you’re at his house.” Rae said in a obvious tone. You rolled your eyes.

“This could just mean he likes having me over as a FRIEND.” You told her. You were hoping that wasn’t the case though and Corpse did have feelings for you. You smiled at the thought.

“You are so oblivious.” Rae said with a sigh, “Anyway, I gotta go workout. Love ya! Hope everything goes well!” She said the last part in her sing songy voice.

“Love you too!” You said back and ended the call. What do I do now? You thought. Corpse was streaming so you couldn’t hangout with him right now and your physics class isn’t till a few hours. You were hungry, though, and decided to cook some lunch for you and Corpse. It’ll be a nice surprise for him. You smiled at the thought.

You made your delicious Dorito taco salad that you love so much. You made a bowl for Corpse as well and took it to his room where he resided. He didn’t seem to be streaming anymore and was just scrolling through Twitter on his computer.

“I come with food!” You say as you place the bowl down in front of him. You seem to have startled him as he jumped slightly when you spoke. He examined the bowl suspiciously.

“What is this?” He says cautiously of your creation.

“It’s Dorito taco salad.” You explain, “It has crushed up Doritos, of course, shredded chicken, lettuce, olives, and sour cream in it.” He seemed to be skeptical of it, which was a given every time you made it for someone new, but people ended up loving it when they tasted it. You were confused as to how many people found it weird since your mom made it for you when you were a kid a ton, so you were used to the delicious lunch dish.

“Okay.” He said and took a bite of it. His eyes lit up. “Oh my god, this is so good!” He exclaimed and took another bite. You giggled with excitement that he loved it like you did.

You both ate together and laid down on the bed as you talked about random things that were going on in your lives. You guys were laughing at a joke Corpse said until Corpse got serious.

“I have to tell you something.” Corpse said and looked into your eyes.

“Okay,” You said confused, “Go ahead.”

He took a deep breath. “I like you.” He confessed, “Like, romantically. I have for awhile now actually and I don’t know what it is about you and I thought I was done with love but you make me feel so happy and different from anyone else I’ve talked to. You don’t have to feel the same way but I couldn’t keep my feelings in for any longer.”

You paused for a moment. Is this actually happening? Are you in a dream? “I like you too, Corpse.” You say softly. His eyes beam with excitement..

“Really?” He asks.

You laugh at his bewilderment. “Yes, really!”

He tackles you in a hug on the bed. You giggle from his excitement. He’s on top of you and he lifts his head up from your neck to look you in the eyes. You get a rush of emotions as you see the care and love in his eyes as he’s looking at you.

You blurt out what you were thinking in that exact moment. “Kiss me.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. One hand is holding him up on the bed as the other is cupping your cheek. You take one hand and tangle it in his hair. This causes him to deepen the kiss with you. The kiss turns rough. You’re both so in the moment you don’t want to come up for air but you guys manage to keep going by taking in air when your lips part for brief moments. The hand that was cupping your cheek is now next to your head, taking the responsibility of holding him up. The other hand is trailing up and down your thigh, squeezing your thigh tightly ever so often. You eventually break the heated kiss and look up at him. You were hoping he could see the love you had for him in your eyes.

“I liked that.” You say smiling.

He chuckled at your words. “I like it too.”

#corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband #corpse #fic #fanfic

2K notes · View notes

thetoadghoul · 3 years

Text

Volunteering: (Ohtani x Reader) <333 (Part - 2)

part 1!

plot: Wednesday’s game arrives which Ohtani invited you to, some bonding time before the first pitch <3 slowwwburn, long cause idk details are fun lol

Wednesday quickly arrived, made much faster by the crazy amount of work you were required to do for your ‘actual’ job. The last three days had been spent with you running around the LA area, as well as cyberspace, to serve your role as interpreter. It was hell, for more reasons than one. The biggest of all being that even though you were not in Japan at the moment, you were still required to wear a proper suit. That meant a tight navy skirt, stockings, and some blasted heels. Sexist men, long meetings, and endless paperwork aside, you enjoyed your job for the most part - but this aspect really wore on you. However, the pain in your feet wouldn't damper your excitement for tonight’s game. Today you were not actually volunteering at the Angels stadium.

The day before yesterday, when you were actually volunteering, a bashful Ohtani had tapped you on the back while you were picking up baseballs from the batting cages. When you turned around the giant man was holding out a lanyard with an attached document, marked ‘VIP Guest of Player’. It took all you had not to let your hands shake with nerves as you reached out and grabbed it gingerly.

“Uh, see you on Wednesday.” The man looked to the side awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“...Yeah.” You responded with a small smile, feeling stupid, but it was all you could think of.

“Well, uh, I better go...” He motioned behind his back with a lazy thumb, staring to jog backward.

You nodded quickly, rushing to go back to picking up balls before you said something super lame, or weird.

It wasn’t till you were on the way home did you take a look at the back of the stadium pass. It read ‘Guest of Shohei Ohtani’. So he had put in the request for you, that was just like him, so kind. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t excited for tomorrow.

-----

Currently, your heart was still racing, but for another reason other than a certain super cute and insanely talented baseball player. It was because it was almost three-thirty in the afternoon and you were running around your company-provided apartment, trying to get ready as fast as you could. Ippei let you know you should get there around four-thirty, by then the team would have been done warming up and starting to enjoy a pregame meal while the away team got the field to themselves. From that point onwards, pretty much everyone was free to relax in the clubhouse till just before the first pitch.

With little time to consider, not even enough time to take a shower after having just got off work, you went with an oversized red T-shirt, baggy jeans, and some cool Jordan’s. This was your go-to, and it was comfortable. You don’t have many clothes anyway, living out of a suitcase.

Right as you were about to run out of the door you remembered to grab your standard Angels cap, it had been provided to you as part of your volunteer uniform a while back, slipping it on over your tight work bun. You would let your hair down later.

All right, everything was in order, Uber scheduled, lanyard secured.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the stadium, and once it came into view, you instructed the driver to let you out in front of the ballpark entrance. It had been a long time since you got to go through the gates as a member of the audience, it actually gave you a wave of nostalgia seeing everyone in their gear, so hyped up for the game, tailing gating outside for what was probably hours.

Once you were through, you started walking through the concession stands and various other stalls, dodging around the fans that were already inside watching the warm-ups, as well as hanging out drinking and eating. There were pictures of Ohtani everywhere, people taking turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the various cutouts of him. The air was buzzing with energy, and it seemed like all for that guy. Honestly, you had worked for a couple different teams over the years, but you had never seen hype like this. It was surreal, seeing a legend in the making.

You smiled, gripping the lanyard around your neck, making your way through the stadium. Shohei was super nice to do this for you, really, you should show him your support. Maybe a quick peek in the team store would do? Plus, you deserved to spend some money on yourself. After all, this was the first time you had really been ‘out’ in the almost three months you had been in California. Your free time was either working, volunteering, video games, or sleep.

You took a couple moments in the Angel's merch shop, quietly perusing the aisles, keeping an eye out for any Ohtani-themed items. Unfortunately, there weren’t really that many, probably sold out by the fans. What was there, was way too small for you.

“Y/n, you here to watch the game?” A young voice sounded.

When you turned to see who addressed you, a familiar girl was standing there grinning.

“Hey Jordan! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” You grinned back.

Jordan worked at the store as a stock manager, she was close in age to you so the two of you often hung out. You had invited her over a couple times, both bonding over your love for crappy reality TV, beer, and of course, baseball.

“Yeah it was last minute, a girl was feeling sick and there wasn’t anyone else cept’ me.” She sighed.

“Bummer, text me if you need help?” You offered, to which she waved you off.

“Nah, you enjoy being here and NOT working.” She chuckled, walking over to organize a messy shelf.

“So, you looking for something in particular?” The girl glanced over her shoulder.

“Uh yeah, you recommend any cool Ohtani stuff? Or is there any at all... seems wiped clean in here.” You said while looking around.

“Ohtani? You here to cheer him on too then. Wanna catch his eye.” She teased.

“Don’t say it like I’m just here for my like, prince charming.” You snapped back playfully, but, maybe a little too fast.

“Aren’t you?” She pressed with an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You pouted, fake walking away.

“I’m just kidding, actually, stay here for a second I might have something you’ll like.” Jordan yelled as she jogged off to the back room behind the counters.

You did as you were told and when she came back there was a large white Angels jersey in her hands.

“Ta-da!” She grinned, twisting it around to show the player’s name on the back.

“Oh, it’s in Kanji? That’s cool, I didn’t know these existed?” You questioned, running your finger over the ‘tani’ character of Ohtani.

“It’s the last one on the floor, had to grab it off the mannequin. Hope it’s not too big? It’s XL?” She questioned, passing it to you to hold.

“Nah it’s perfect, can’t you tell.” You joked holding the jersey next to you, while you showed off your oversized clothes.

“Figured it'd be fine, wanna get rung up? I’ll give you that ‘good good’ employee discount. But, don’t tell anyone.” She smiled, heading to the register, to which you nodded and jogged after her.

After you finished your purchase and waved bye to Jordan, it was time to head to the clubhouse. It was around five, so you were later than you planned but Shohei usually practiced batting in the cages a little while longer while everyone headed in. Slipping the plastic shopping bag into your purse, and ripping the tags off your new jersey, you slipped it on over your T-shirt, smoothing out the material as best you could. It felt great to finally have some real merch from the team, and part of you sort of wondered what Ohtani would think when he saw you. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much to just show up in his gear after he pretty much randomly invited you, let alone in the stadium-specific one, as you just learned from your colleague.

After you got to an employee-only doorway, you pushed on it hoping it was actually open. Ippei had also let you know via text that it would be unlocked for you. Another kindness of Shohei, not just inviting you, but making sure you had access to all the catering and AC inside the resisted area of the building. You slipped in and locked the door behind you, not wanting to encourage some intoxicated fans to follow. The hallway was empty and cool as you started making your way to the clubhouse.

You were admittedly a bit nervous by the time you got to the doors, feeling a bit awkward about strutting in as anyone other than a volunteer for the first time. Carefully you pushed open the door, making sure not to hit anybody. The room was full of chatter, some players eating, some playing cards, others watching TV on the room's monitors. You looked around for Ohtani, but he wasn’t there yet apparently. No matter, you strolled in and went for the snack area. Truthfully you hadn’t eaten since that morning, and that was just a toasted bagel. Turning your back to the rest of the room, you began filling up your plate with cocktail shrimp and grapes.

“Nice jersey.” Ippei said, coming up next to you, grabbing small sandwiches for his plate.

“Is that sarcastic?” You questioned with a smile, finishing your plate.

“Nah, I’m sure he likes it.” Ippei jerked his head to the left.

He? You leaned back to see around the man, meeting Shohei’s surprised face almost immediately. Had he been standing there the whole time? He had obviously been staring at your back, at his name, bashfully looking up to your face when you moved, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes.

“I uh, got it ten minutes ago.” You grinned awkwardly, pointing your thumb proudly at the jersey, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a weirdo.

The large player didn’t say anything, blinking more slowly this time before opting to just nod gently, with a quick “thanks for your support”, hurriedly leaning forward to start filling his plate with all kinds of foods.

—-

Once everyone had their food the three of you found a place to sit while you ate, it was at the back of the room away from the noise, and where the two usually sat before a game anyways. A small conversation started while the three of you ate calmly.

“Why... do you only have grapes, and shrimp?” Ohtani questioned suddenly, looking at your plate baffled. You looked down at it as well, pausing for a moment trying to find out what was so weird about that.

“Uh, well, it’s because... these things are... super expensive in Tokyo. It’s like a rich person food to me.” You smiled, eating a couple shrimps happily.

“Wow. That’s so sad.” Ippei chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Shohei on the other hand burst out laughing at your response, making you laugh a bit too at your pitiful confession.

“Seriously, I feel like a mega-rich, and very posh, Ginza lady right now - eating nothing but shrimp and fruit. So fancy right? ” You exclaimed, popping a grape in your mouth.

The Japanese player laughed even harder, tears building up as he wiped his eyes.

“Those people wouldn’t touch that stuff with a three-meter stick.” Ippei stated, letting out a small laugh.

“Just let me have my moment.” You pouted through a smile, shoving more shrimp in your mouth.

The other man calmed down finally and was now sitting there smiling while he ate.

“So, fancy y/n, are you okay to sit in the dugout tonight. Not too unrefined for you?” Ippei questioned with a smirk.

“That’s, allowed?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t stay there the whole time, but.” The man responded nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s the best place to hear, ‘the surprise’.” Shohei added, food in the process of being shoved in his mouth.

“Well, doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.” You smiled at the player, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“He’s batting first tonight, you won’t have to wait long.” Ippei spoke, starting on the next sandwich.

“Hope me being in there won’t be bad luck.” You joked.

“You believe in that?” Ippei smirked.

“My family ingrained it into me, wasn’t allowed to watch a single super bowl game in the living room till I literally moved out.” You frowned, stabbing a grape.

“Harsh.” The man smirked with a small laugh under his breath.

“You will be good luck, for sure.” Shohei leaned forward in a hunch to take another bite of food, smiling sincerely at you as he looked up from his food.

“Then, I will see to it that will become a very good omen. Please believe in me.” You responded in the highest form of keigo you knew, bowing rigidly from your seat for comedic effect. Since you never studied that level of grammar, it was really freaking bad, causing the two men to laugh again.

“You’re funny.” Ippei chuckled.

“Yeah, and your Japanese is so good though?” Shohei exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

“Nah it’s pretty bad, I fell off the study wagon a long time ago.” You laughed awkwardly, waving a hand in front of your face.

“You’d be there forever if you stayed on.” Ippei chuckled again, while Shohei nodded in sullen agreement.

“Writing would be nice though, having to look up every other kanji at the doctor's office, or like city hall makes me literally sweat, like, a lot. Buckets. But when I look around, I'm the only one.” You giggled.

“You’re so honest.” Shohei chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin, still leaning forward in his chair, you grinned back at him. Your eyes locked for a while, you had never noticed, but his eyelashes were sort of long.

At that moment Ippei had to take a call, letting the two of you know he’d be back in a bit, walking off. The two of you looked away and finished eating in silence.

When you looked up from your empty plate, the large player was now staring at you with a soft expression. The warmth in his eyes made you blush, he didn’t even break his gaze once he was caught like he usually did. You responded back to him simply with a shy smile, before being the one to avert your own eyes to the floor again.

Thankfully at that moment, a group of Angels came over, slapping the Japanese man on the back, starting up a conversion. They were going over strategies for the game and overall just getting hyped up. You didn’t have much to input, so you just kind of sat there enjoying the excited chatter. Shohei smiled merrily the whole time, inserting little jokes, completely affected by their excitement. The way he carried himself really reminded you that the essence of baseball was really just about having fun with your teammates and giving it your all. He looked simply happy to be there, and it made you smile too, just watching him goof off. It was charming to see his duality of being a just big kid with endless laugher, versus the super-serious, and seasoned player he was on the mound.

You were really trying hard not to but, you were rapidly developing feelings for Shohei. The last three months of volunteering here, you of course thought he was really cute and kind, classic boyfriend material. A simple crush, like many of the girls working around him, surely had as well. However the possibility of you two actually dating had always been a foreign concept, one which stopped you from even considering it, at all, you just didn’t know if you even could. With you both traveling for work, how would there be time? Plus, what about the media? His family? Yours? All those things seemed unscalable walls, that is, until this moment, when you could feel his gentle eyes on you once again.

Maybe, there was something? Or maybe, he was just a super nice guy, and you were treated no different than anyone else.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Shohei was starting to stand up, grabbing everyone’s empties plates. He reached his hand towards you, asking for the one in your hand with a tiny nod of his head, to which you thanked him, stood up, and handed it over.

Well.

Either way, you were so screwed.

-------

Hope you enjoyed! <3

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