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December special voting guide

Hello, everyone! We've now reached the end of the first phase, where you were able to request fics for the December special. Now we move onto the voting. This is how it's gonna work:

First Round (Five Polls):

1. There will be five polls, each containing 10 options (numbers representing each request). The last poll will have 9 options since there are 49 requests in total.

2. You guys can vote in each poll, choosing your favorite option from each group.

3. The first and second place from each poll (10 in total) will move on to the second round.

Second Round (Five Polls with 10 Options):

1. The 10 remaining requests (those that placed first or second in the initial polls) will be included in five new polls.

2. Each poll will include all 10 options, and you can vote five times (one vote per poll) since we need to choose five fics.

3. The top five requests with the most votes across these polls will be the ones chosen for December.

The following list contains all 49 requests. Each request has it's own number.

A continuation of last year. You, Irene and the new coworker Seulgi work for a media company, who produces music videos for entertainment companies. Around this time of the year, two female soloists are about to have their comebacks. Im Yoona and Karina. They both have similar music, similar concepts and the same target audience, which makes them natural rivals. A good music video always has a big impact of a song's popularity and success. Which of the two can convince your team to invest more time and attention into her music video?

IU mentioned how she wants to be the center of attention, how she sometimes wishes she was in a girl group, so she could fool around with her members and have their hands all over her.

A continuation of IU's journey from the "Take what you can" storyline.

You decide to invite her to your place, without her knowing that you invited all five members of Itzy. The six of you make IU's wildest fantasies come true.

Being a demon has its up and downs. But there is one thing you will never get tired off. People who summon you. Either for fun, or because they are convinced that there aren't any supernatural beings. Or, In this case, three gorgous women, who want to experience more than just meaningless sex with strangers. Joy, Seulgi and Yeri have only one thing in mind, while they summon you.

You know that Seulgi loves to tease you. Especially during concerts, acting slutty and wearing revealing clothes, so the audience can appreciate her tight body.

You eventually decide to not put up with this any longer. You need to punish her. Seulgi sometimes mentions how much she would love to get fucked by a couple of men. So you invite two of your friends. The three of you make Seulgi forget all about her fans, making sure she only thinks about you at the end of the night.

When Minnie walks in on one of Miyeon's sexual encounters, she feels the need to challenge her. Minnie sometimes feels like she is standing in Miyeon's shadow during performances or photoshoots. So she decides that this is her time to shine. And why not get a little something out of it for herself as well?

The two of them invite their respective sponsors for a little meeting, which is nothing else but a competitive gangbang. Whoever wins gets to do what ever they want with each other. No limits.

Ryujin and Yujin have one thing in common apart from the fact that they're pretty. Both girls are in love with you. And the best way for the two of them to show this to you is sex. The two of them always fight for your attention. But when Yujin decides to go shopping for some additional toys and equipment online, it all blows up in one huge competition. Will you be able to handle both of them for hours without a break? Who will win the title of being your favorite pet?

After endless promotions and a overly filled schedule, Jisun can finally take some time off at the end of the year. She knows her boyfriend missed being with her as much as she missed being with him. So when the two of you go on vacation together, she hands you a free use coupon. 24 hours of whatever you want to do with her. Nothing off limits. Anywhere. Anytime.

It seemed like a good idea to Nayeon, when she signed up for this in July. A voluntary event from her company, where they hand out flyers and collect donations. And it also seemed fun to wear this big snowman costume.

But as it turns out, it's boring, cold and hard. And Nayeon can't even spend a lot if time with you during this beautiful time. So you decide on visiting her at the company. The dressing room becomes the first crime scene of a long day filled with pleasure.

Mina and you have been friends for a long time. And the two of you have always been competitive. Especially when it comes to games. That's why it's no surprise when the two of you go way too far while playing truth or dare. Who will eventually win the game? And what are the consequences that follow?

10:

Today is the day of yours and Yoona's one year anniversary of your relationship. Of course you have to celebrate. And Yoona wants to reward you for being the best boyfriend she's ever been with. So she decides on something special. Something the two of you haven't tried before. Something that she herself has never tried before. Yoona, knowing how big you are, needs to prepare herself for a couple of days beforehand, to make sure that everything goes as planned. Because you will finish this meaningful day by giving Yoona's ass a creampie.

11:

Another continuation. You and Yoona are already in an established relationship, which turns more and more into lovers and less sugar mommy and sugar baby. Her friend and bandmate Tiffany can't visit her family in the states during the holidays, due to her busy schedule. She knows all about Yoona's new boy toy and due to her own stress and ever growing responsibilities, she asks Yoona to share you, while she stays over.

12:

Due to your father's job, your family has to move to another city. Just like before, you become the high school's quarterback. Which definitely has its good side. But also bad ones. Eventually, you get noticed by a group of popular girls, who call themselves Viviz.

13:

On your way to Paris, your plane crashes and you end up on an island. When you wake up, you realize you've been captured by a group of women, who seem to have some disgusting human sacrifice in mind. You try to talk your way out of the situation. Turns out, this was only a scam to make you do whatever they want.

14:

Another continuation for IU. One night, IU asks you to help her out. Of course you want to help her, thinking it's just sex like usual. But she asks you to do something different. Bring some of your friends. Because IU's loneliness doesn't seem to go away. Even while you fuck her. Maybe more people will do the trick.

15:

Seulgi always loved teasing people, who could do nothing about it. She knows she is hot, so she used that. Even in class. Being a teacher means, she can show the boys in her class what they're missing out on, without them ever being able to do anything about it. Around Christmas time, they eventually plan on turning things around. One of them gets in trouble on purpose, so he will be sitting in detention with Seulgi after classes on the last day of school. What do the boys have planned for their naughty teacher?

16:

This year, Winter includes a special event. A water bomb festival in December. But at least it's indoors, so it's bearable for the wet idols. Your girlfriend Saerom and her group get choosen for this special event. Afterwards, the two of you enjoy yourselves backstage, where you make Saerom even wetter than she already is.

17:

After introducing you to her sisters Han Sohee and Kim Jieun, your girlfriend Ryujin leaves to buy groceries for dinner. The two sisters test your loyalty to your girlfriend. Will you pass or fail? And what is the punishment/reward?

18:

You and Soyeon are happy that you can spend the hollidays together, despite your girlfriend's busy schedule. But your plans threaten to get disrupted, when Soyeon's bandmate Yuqi and her girlfriend break up. Soyeon asks you, if it's okay if Yuqi spends the holidays with the two of you. Maybe you're lucky and Soyeon rewards you for being selfless.

19:

Karina complaines and tries to fight it, but in the end, she knows she has to do it. She's supposed to entertain one of the company's investors during a dinner. She heard from Irene how the experiences can vary from investor to investor, so she isn't completely surprised when the older man asks her for a sexual favor. Karina hesitates, but knows that this could influence her career. For good or bad. Hoping this will be over, she starts to take off his pants, but soon, she is pleasantly surprised.

20:

After refreshing your Korean language skills with the help of your teacher IU, you leave for Korea. Your agency has another high priority mission for you yet again. There are rumors about corruption and planned associations, which you need to uncover. Along the way, you meet a rich Korean woman, who goes by the name Irene. And is Mina really an agent of the Japanese intelligence service like she says she is?

21:

You melt into the couch, right there in the recording room. Irene's compliments and obvious love for your cock is one thing. But the way she kneels before you, using her mouth and throat in every way possible to worship your cock. It all makes you brain slowly melt away.

That's why you only notice that Karina is there, once the door of the recording room is open. The look in Irene's face says it all. She'll make sure Karina appreciates your cock as much as she does, by the end of the day.

22:

The usual happy holidays seem dark and lonely to you this year. After breaking up with your ex, because she cheated on you, the rest of the month seems just like a joke to you. But when you get coffee one morning, you find yourself sitting at a table with three gorgeous women. Yoona, Krystal and Irene listen to your story and eventually decide that you shouldn't be sad and lonely during this beautiful time.

23:

At first you felt a little odd, being a sales clerk in a female underwear store. But you actually seem to do pretty well. Which catches the attention of your boss Magenta, your manager Habin and your senior Johyun. As Christmas comes closer, all three decide on giving you something special for the end of the year. You are the one who is bringing in all the money after all. But none of them know what the others are up to. Which means that your time around the holidays is way busier than you expected. Will you be able to keep the three women seperated? Or will you get caught?

24:

Chaewon couldn't stop talking about getting invited to a camping trip by Sana and Miyeon. Your girlfriend was in a good mood for weeks, until the trip finally began. You were surprised when the three of them offered you to tag along, but you happily expected. Along the way, the three of you grow closer. The highlight of the trip includes a game of truth or dare. Which eventually ends in the best foursome of your life.

25:

You were unbelievably happy, when you finally got a seat to a talk show, where Yoona and Taeyeon introduce their new winter album. And your luck seems to be on your side, when you are the person who wins a signed album. You get to go backstage to meet the two of them. Little do you know that Yoona and Taeyeon have something special in mind as well. You should've known while you listened to one of their songs.

26:

While being Minju's boyfriend, you're also a fan and fellow SM artist of Yoona. You only met each other a couple of times, but that all changes when your father and Yoona's mother decide to get married. The four of you move in together and you can't help but notice how hot and sexy your idol and stepsister is. When your parents are off on their honeymoon, you know it's your chance to finally make your dreams come true. When Minju sees you and your stepsister together, you invite her to join you. The three of you become closer than ever.

27:

Since last years adventure with Seulgi, IU has grown even more in popularity. More and more sponsors and investors seem to come in. And it becomes clear that it isn't uncommon for them to ask for something special from time to time. Which is actually perfect for IU, since her and Seulgi still haven't determined an ultimate championof their own little competition. So what happens next? Will the two of them repeat their adventures from last year? Or will they come up with something even better?

28:

After an accident, you wake up at an hospital. Your attending nurse Yoona explains to you that you won't be able to walk for a while, due to your injuries. Which also means, you won't be able to see your family during the holidays. But Yoona promises you to keep you company during this difficult time. As the two of you grow closer, your urge for release becomes greater. Who can blame you? With a nurse like her? Eventually, you muster enough courage to speak your mind. What does Yoona do next, after hearing your proposal?

29:

Jessica and Krystal both have a secret. No one knows it, except those two. But when they're parents decide that one of them has to get married to ensure their company's future, they're relationship threatens to end. Will you, the future husband, be able to take care of your future wife? What exactly is the secret between her and her sister?

30:

You're not surprised seeing Seulgi at the gym. Being an SM artist yourself, you've seen her in the company's own gym a couple of times already. But you're surprised when Seulgi declares that she is a fan of yours. Things soon escalate. And throughout your new routine, you notice that the two of you aren't the only ones who use the gym.

31:

After seeing how stressed out Miyeon and Minnie are, Soyeon decides to help them out. She knows a place where idols like them can properly unwind. The two girls are unaware of what kind of establishment Soyeon sent them to, until they meet you.

32:

Yuna always wanted to do two things. Cosplay and a proper gangbang. She never got the chance, because of her busy schedule. But in December, it seems like she has enough free time. Her favorite cosplay is Sailor Mars, so that's what the men find her in as they walk into Itzy's practice room.

33:

On the night before Christmas, you are visited, in succession, by the Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, Present and Future, who each try to convince you that you should be with them in real life. Past is your ex SuA, Present is your current girlfriend Jiu and Future is your secret crush Yoohyeon. After waking up, you finally realize with whom you want to spend the rest of your life with. Who is it gonna be?

34:

After her divorce, Jiyeon gets comforted by IU and her friend Yoo Inna. The two of them help her forget about her ex husband. They come up with a plan. Give Jiyeon so much pleasure, she won't even remember his name.

35:

Your rich father was always afraid to marry again, after your mother died. He never wanted to share his money or his company with anyone. That's why he only had three concubines Taeyeon, Tiffany and Seohyun. Because your mother did when you were young, the three of them took care of you since then. When your father dies in a plane crash, you inherit everything. Which also includes some of his paranoia. Will you let the three of them stay with you, or are you too afraid that they will steal your money?

36:

Ningning, Yuna and Yeri are often jealous of their leaders. Especially when it comes to dating, since the three of them have to maintain that youthful, innocent maknae image. But when one of their leaders is rumored to be in a relationship with you, they can't hold back anymore. As one of Korea's most famous actors, you become the target of the three maknaes, who want show that they are way better at anything than their leaders.

37:

Jessi becomes more and more envious of all those younger idols as she becomes older. She knows that she never really fit the Korean beauty standard, but her jealousy keeps on growing. To her surprise, two famous idols ask her for advice. Both Kazuha and Karina are having trouble. They're both convinced that most fans only like them for their looks and not their hard work and music. As the three of them become more comfortable and vulnerable with each other, Jessi sees an opportunity to let go of her pent up jealousy.

38:

During their intense schedules, Ningning and Yeri become fed up with their leader's antics. The two of them aren't children anymore. When they hear about you, they hire you to get back at Karina and Irene. The three of you dominate the two leaders, using them as you like.

39:

The four members finally had enough of Miyeon's behavior. This expensive princess act... They are finally sick of it. When she leasts expect it, the four girls trap Miyeon and fuck this princess syndrome out of her.

40:

Irene, Karina, Yujin and Yeji all noticed that IU has gained a lot of popularity throughout the whole year. They see her as too old to still be acting out like this. Wanting to have more for themselves, they decide to convince her manager to drop her off at an hotel. The four of them punish IU for stealing their spotlight. Will IU survive the night?

41:

Yujin always behaves like a bratty little slut. You eventually have enough of her and decide to degrade her as much as possible. The mall's bathroom becomes Yujin's home for a day as hundreds of men walk in and out.

42:

Seohyun and Irene have the same name. The three or you have always been friends. You wish you were more than that, but you don't want to ruin your relationship with them. One day, you teasingly ask, who the better Joohyun is, triggering their competitive sides. They start with studying and fitness and eventually reach a more sexual level. Eventually, you are the one who has to decide, which of the two is the better Joohyun.

43:

In a galaxy far far away....

Yujin and Chaeyoung are send on a diplomatic mission by the republic Senate. When they reach your planet, you and your people have a slightly different idea of how peace looks like.

44:

G!p Ryujin brought back a surprise from Itzy's tour. A tied up Yeji in your bedroom. You make her watch you fucking Ryujin, before the two of you use Yeji however you want.

45:

After Sana's fashion event, you, her manager, catch her changing on accident. Later one, you take a shower, the image of Sana still ingrained in your mind. You're surprised when someone suddenly joins you underneath the hot water.

46:

After Karina's redicioulus No Nut November challenge, you find yourself in the middle of another one. Your girlfriend and Seulgi asked you to help them with their first album together. The title song "Hot and cold" has a deeper meaning, which their fans will barely able to catch, even after listening to it a couple of times. But it is the foundation for Karina's newest way to torture you. Her and Seulgi use your own lyrics against you.

47:

Being Itzy's manager isn't the only thing that is crazy in your life. Somehow, you managed to make Irene your loving girlfriend. Due to pure coincidence, her apartment and Itzy's new dorm are in the same apartment complex on the same floor. Irene lets you know that she has planned something special. When you get there late at night, you almost bump into Ryujin's boyfriend. Because it's dark, the two of you confuse the two apartments. Bot of you find a tied up and blindfolded woman on a bed, just as each of you were promised. But are you in your girlfriend's apartment? And is he in Itzy's dorm?

48:

After the last game of the year, you run into some of the cheerleaders of your team. The five girls Irene, Seulgi, Wendy, Joy and Yeri, have something special for you, after you've brought home another win.

49:

Irene and Yeri go to Japan to promote their first single as a duo. Unfortunately, none of the two knew what kind of show invited them to come on. Things quickly turn into a very sexual directions as the the two women try to navigate their way through the show. In the end, you are the lucky winner and the prize is obvious.

#December special request 24 #December special 2024

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youremyheaven · 3 days ago

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Princess here. Hey babe how are you?

I feel like you're the only anon left here 🤭🤣

I currently have a slight cold and feel a bit out of it but I'm going to use this opportunity to do a bit of an inventory for 2024 as it is the end of the year. If anyone's interested, you can do the same and drop me askszz

Things I did in 2024:

1. Moved away from the place I lived in for 8 years 😭

2. Grew my hair down to my ass and then cut it chest length??? (My first haircut in like 3 years??)

Not all growth is meant to stay. Sometimes we grow in ways that help us protect ourselves during difficult circumstances but you can't live wearing your armour 24/7, so it's important to shed the layers we've accumulated every once in a while (me philosophising the heck out of my hairdresser telling me my hair is damaged and needs to lose length lmao 😭😂)

3. I cut off friendships I'd maintained for 8 ish years. Just because something has lasted a long time doesn't mean it has to stay. Especially if things aren't working out.

Don't tolerate disrespect and don't hold on just for the sake of it.

4. I went to therapy for 3-4 months and then I quit therapy

I needed it at that time but I'm also glad I quit when I did because I felt myself microanalysing everything through therapy speak and it wasn't healthy lol

5. I went back to my ex after 6 years and then it gave me the reality check I needed and I promptly left him

6. I dated someone who treated me like a princess but still somehow didn't respect me or value me lmao (yes, they exist)

7. A friend I had for a long ish time behaved inappropriately with me when he was drunk and despite having a gf, told me he thinks I'm hot etc etc this cemented my belief that men and women could perhaps never actually be friends

8. I started abusing substances after being sexually abused.

I never thought I'd have a substance addiction era bc that's sooo not me like no one would ever think I was a chainsmoker but that was the lowest point of my life this year. I didn't brush, shower, eat or even get out of bed for weeks. I stayed high and drunk bc I felt so unsafe in my body and was dissociating severely. I'm so glad to have recovered from it and move past it and to have had someone in my life who held my hand through that journey bc it was messy asf and I have sooo much compassion for people who stay stuck in that loop for years and lose so much of their time, like I completely get how easy it is to lose yourself entirely

9. Adult relationships are so different??

I wish I had been in a relationship in my early 20s or when I was in college so that I could get a little bit of a crash course on this stuff and not feel so overwhelmed by expectations bc im already 24 and things start getting serious at this age 😭😭

But I'm also glad I stayed single throughout college bc it really helped me solidify my own identity and understand who I am, what I want and what I expect. I think 18-22 are very personality cementing years and I'm kinda glad that my personality wasn't shaped by a romantic relationship even if I was madly in love with someone all those years (unrequited, one sided stuff). The act of being in love with someone unconditionally like that has perhaps altered me in ways I can't even express but I'm glad there's no trauma or drama to recall from that experience

10. What someone tells you when they're angry is exactly what they've been thinking of all this while.

11. I make my own money??? And pay my own bills??? And I have a job that I like??

12. You don't know a person until you live with them. Don't ever marry anyone you haven't lived with 🫡🫡

13. Sex is nothing special without love

14. Had really good sex and really bad sex

15. Met new people, made new friends

16. I modelled??? I've done a couple of photoshoots now??

17. Had ₹80 left in my bank account and still somehow survived

18. I learnt to cook and I loveeee to cook now

19. I got a tattoo!!!

20. I got many more piercings

21. I resolved a 1.5 year long "crush" twin flame esque situation I had with a guy

22. I travelled 💛

23. Built a new identity for myself 🫡

24. Restarted my creative journey

25. Lost touch with myself and then now I'm finally going home to me

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devoted-domme · 9 months ago

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How did you know your into being dominant ? Anything particular you like in a sub ?

So, this became a bit longer than I had anticipated, so my reply to both questions will be under a cut!

For your first question: Honestly, I think I have known from a very young age, even before puberty.

I’ve always felt drawn to stories about deep, meaningful relationships based on some sort of power imbalance and extreme devotion, like servants and knights who would do anything for their master or king. Basically, any character who was naturally submissive towards an authority figure and who was deeply devoted to them.

Scenes in which someone knelt in front of their master were my favourites and I’d re-read them over and over again. It wasn’t sexually motivated since I was too young for that, and yet something about these types of scenes always made my heart race.

Then during puberty, I discovered that I was attracted to both men and women but I don’t enjoy being penetrated and never liked the expectations that society held for women in straight relationships. I never wanted to be the object of someone’s desires, I wanted to be the active party who has agency and be the person who leads and initiates. I never liked the thought of me lying there and having someone else shower me with affection, I wanted to be the person in control and do these things to someone else and make sure they feel good.

Because of this, I thought I was fully lesbian for a long time, even though I do find men attractive. But I never thought it would be possible to be a man without all of the associated gender roles and the way straight sex was framed in general was such a turn-off, with the language people use and all the gendered expectations.

I only ever dated women because it was easier to escape those expectations and easier to explain what being a stone top means. I never believed men would be interested in getting penetrated and being submissive so I stuck to female partners who enjoyed it.

And of course, I’m not saying you can’t be dominant and enjoy being penetrated, it’s just something that I personally don’t want and it’s really hard to escape that expectation if you try dating in straight circles.

Seeking out online spaces for femdom (and in particular, Tumblr as it tends to be less focused on straight relationships and rigid gender roles, in general) really helped me strengthen my own understanding of my sexuality.

Now, onto your second question:

Truthfully, I am very picky when it comes to choosing a sub since I’m not really interested in just casual play so my sub would also be my romantic partner (I’m not talking about answering a spicy ask/message here and there, I’m very open to that, just anything beyond that is purely reserved for my romantic partner).

Generally, I would be looking for a “naturally submissive” sub, not just someone who is into it as a kink. That doesn’t mean I’m looking for a 24/7 type of deal at all, I just mean that I want a sub who is just that – submissive. They want me to actually be in charge in the bedroom and are happy to do what I want to do instead of only wanting a “kink dispenser” who caters to their every wish.

It’s a bit ironic, considering that my preferred domming style is very focused on the sub and their pleasure but at the same time I don’t want to be told what to do. It’s fine to give suggestions, they should absolutely have kinks they love and firm limits they don’t want to cross but it gets annoying when I feel like they want to “direct” the scene.

It’s also very important to me that my sub sees me as an actual real-life human being who is flawed, just like everyone else. I’m not some mysterious goddess who is always “on” and in domme mode 24/7. I’m often quite dorky and awkward and they need to be able to understand that and understand that real life isn’t fantasy and people don’t behave like they do in whatever pornography they have seen or erotica they have read.

I need to get the impression that I actually matter to them as a person, beyond the utility I can offer to them (and of course, I will do them the same courtesy!).

Needless to say, the same things apply here as in any other relationship: good communication, the willingness to listen and speak up if there are problems, mutual respect (especially with regards to boundaries) and trust, willingness to compromise, a strong sense of self and independence, loyalty, empathy, dependability, an overall emotional connection and so on.

(And of course, what I have listed here are things that I would also strive to give back in return in a relationship!)

Naturally, we should also have compatible kinks and a similar idea of what our D/s dynamic should look like and my sub should have a strong idea of their limits (saying they have “no limits” is a red flag, for sure!). I need to be able to trust them to actually use their safeword if they need to (just as they need to trust me to also then stop the scene if they do and not be mad at them for using their safeword).

Having standards is also a green flag – if I get the impression that they are actually picky about who gets to dom(me) them it already helps to make me feel more at ease and like I’m actually being treated like a person instead of just their kink wish fulfillment.

Of course, like anyone else, physical attraction plays a strong role in who I want to date/take as a sub, but I am attracted to a lot of different "types" and I do think how someone carries themselves and their general mannerisms and personality play a huge role in my attraction to them as well.

Also, I think as someone whose love language is Acts of Service and who enjoys taking care of my partners, it’s easy to attract subs who genuinely believe I can/will “fix” them when the truth is: no one can fix you but yourself. Of course, it is always easier to improve yourself when you have the support of someone else but the drive to change needs to come from within.

So, I need my sub to be an actual adult, capable of living their day-to-day life. That doesn’t mean they’re not allowed to struggle with things (I do as well), just that they need to be overall mature and independent.

Now, I do think it's fun to give subs incentives to improve their lives, to give them little tasks and rewards and I think it can be a good way to help them keep good habits, but this only really works to a small extent and they still need to be motivated to change by themselves.

Additionally, a potential sub would need to not be into any kinks that are misogynistic, homophobic or racist like s/issies and c/uckolding (it shouldn't be degrading to be penetrated or to wear feminine clothing or to have sex with black men, unless you actually believe being a woman or being black or gay is inherently more degrading than being a white straight man).

For male subs, they need to be feminist allies and be actively working on undoing toxic masculinity and be respectful to women in general, not just the ones they’re attracted to and not just for however long they need to get into a woman’s pants. I think a lot of male subs think just because they’re “submissive” they’re somehow above misogyny when truthfully, I have experienced more sexism from male subs than I have from any of the regular blokes in my life.

In terms of overall personality, I’m hugely attracted to people who are just genuinely good people – kind and helpful. I adore gentle people and even those who are a bit shy. I don’t need someone to be the smartest person or the most confident or the funniest, just try to be the kindest version of yourself you can be.

I think that’s all! Sorry for the long rambling response but I really enjoyed getting all my thoughts out. I hope some of this is still useful to you (or anyone else who happens to be reading this!).

#bd/sm discussion #bd/sm kink #fdom #gentle fdom #gentle femdxm #wlw bd/sm #female dom #gentle dom #mine #ask

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animefem · 11 months ago

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ways of describing your gender that might come from painful dysphoria but are also very sexist/misogynistic (and often cissexist) and worth actively confronting in yourself, since you might very well be reinforcing gender roles in yourself and others:

joking is 100% fine obviously, but sooo many of these i've seen completely unironically within the lgbtq community (terfs dni)

#1 - i'm not a woman or i don't feel like a woman because... i'm too masculine, hairy, loud, snarky, confident, wish i was tall and buff, want to be the one in charge, don't care if i'm pretty, do unwomanly things, don't like fashion, don't like makeup, don't know how to do small talk, don't understand social cues, enjoy stereotypically masculine interests, like to be the one penetrating during sex, like being rough during sex, like dominating, like being tough, all things that obviously contradict womanhood

#2 - i'm not a man or i don't feel like a man because... i'm too feminine, don't like body hair, have a more feminine or high pitched voice, talk or dress in a stereotypically girly way, enjoy dresses and skirts and dolls and makeup, enjoy stereotypically feminine interests, like being the submissive one and being penetrated (which i see as a "womanly thing" especially if it's in a rough way), like being polite and docile and dainty or being promiscuous and wearing revealing outfits, or even being a sex worker, all things that are girl things to me and make me feel like a woman and aren't something a real man would ever be

#3 - OBVIOUSLY i'm not a man/woman... look how androgynous i look!!! how did that cis person even think i was cis lmao???? i'm too gender nonconforming to actually be a cis man/woman, obviously even i will assume a gender conforming person is cis but a VISIBLY ANDROGYNOUS person like ME??? extra hilarious!!!! (there isn't a specific "trans look" bc trans/nonbinary can look like anything and gnc people exist so this is sexist and transphobic af)

#4 - [anything that implies that being trans/nonbinary is a political statement for the person or a choice to say fuck you to cissexist heteropatriarchal society instead of a very personal identity like being gay or bisexual, it's just a political subculture]

#5 - i'm gay/bi/etc and i believe that my lgbtq identity inherently contradicts me being a cis man/woman

fyi, #5 is said not in the respectful way someone will describe their own personal identity, but rather trying to literally state that being gay/bi/etc inherently means not feeling like a man/woman despite MANY lgbtq men & women being totally connected to their binary gender, feeling a special connection to it through their gayness. this includes binary trans people who have a very unique connection to manhood or womanhood. it's not cool to label gayness or transness as inherently nonbinary. radical sure, but binary lgbtq people have fought FOREVER to be seen as no less of a man/woman than anyone cishet, an obviously homophobic af belief that is pushed by bigots everywhere, to the point where some countries have transition legalized but not homosexuality bc they think that being gay makes you not a real man/woman, so you might as well become a "normal" straight person by transitioning. this shit should be called tf out

#6 - i don't agree with misogyny and i want to distance myself from it politically despite being 100% comfortable with being male and living as male and not having any social or physical dysphoria, or even euphoria, so i use the term nonbinary to show support to women. this is a take i've actually seen passed around lmao, both from transmasc and transfem people

#7 - i just want to make cishet people uncomfortable. it's funny as a joke obviously, i've said i'm gay to make men mad wayyy too many times i get it. but some people when prompted will deadass say that's their only reason to identify as nonbinary. and ngl that sounds like treating transness as a political accessory instead of just a personal identity. which means they think being trans is a choice, like political lesbianism back in the day

there's so many hilarious jokes to make about gender that i love seeing around. so many fun ways to describe gender identity. but let's not feed cishet people's sexism and reinforce the bullshit we've learned growing up, excusing it by giving it a fresh rainbow coat of paint. the last thing the community needs is tighter gender roles. we need to EXPAND not only what it means to be nonbinary, but ALSO what it means to be a binary man or woman!!! it's okay if some of these were signs for you, but the way you speak about it matters

#lou text #nonbinary #trans #transmasc #transfem #genderqueer #lesbian #bisexual #lgbtq #lgbtq thoughts #ok to rb #idk just late night rambles

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anamazingangie · 1 year ago

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without reservation | rhaenyra x daemon

🕯️ Rated E 🕯️4.8k words 🕯️ Complete 🕯️ by AmazingAngie🕯️

Tags: canon divergence, minor harwin/rhaenyra, loss of virginity, incest, infidelity, size kink, breeding kink, painful sex, darcyphilia, happy ending

Warnings: ambiguous ages, possible period typical underage

Summary:

“I want to hear you.” He said, words firm. She shook her head before admitting, “I might cry.” He smiled, a twisted crooked thing, “I’m almost certain you will, my princess.” She shifted a little—“You won’t stop, if I do?” She asked, nervously. “Oh sweetheart, I promise you, tears have never been the reason my desire wanes.” Rhaenyra wailed when he seated himself fully inside of her. Her tears were in pain—partially, but they were in relief too. Finally she wasn’t a maiden, and she had her uncle to thank for that.

part four of ? of amorous autumn / kinktober.

7. darcyphilia / crying during sex / painful sex

🕯️without reservation🕯️

Rhaenyra was a beautiful bride—her eyes bright and smile wide when she leaned in to kiss her new husband. Harwin Strong was not a prince, but in her eyes he was better. He was a knight, a protector, and best of all—he loved her.

Her father was pleased that she had finally settled on a match, and one so close to his own advisor. The Strong’s were loyal and trustworthy, a good family to bind themselves to through marriage, even if they were not a particularly famed name.

Rhaenyra did not need to marry for a name—she was a Targaryen, after all.

No, she needed to marry because she needed to have an heir.

But Viserys hoped she would find happiness, too.

There was not a doubt in anyone’s minds that she would have both in her marriage, with how she smiled on her wedding day and seemed to bloom in response to her new husband’s touch.

Her wedding night, however, wasn’t spent smiling.

No. It was spent with her head buried in a pillow—it muffled her sobs, and hid her tears. Though it could not hide her shame, the pain, the embarrassment.

Harwin was a good man.

He was a good enough man that when his new wife complained of pain, he stopped.

No matter how much she pleaded, he wasn’t going to hurt her. He couldn’t, truly. His length flagged just from seeing her wince beneath him.

He knew violence and suffering from his work and it had no place in his bedroom. He wouldn’t inflict such things on his wife. The mere thought made him feel sick.

She was young, and stressed from the day. They would try again, he promised.

Harwin was a good man.

He was, perhaps, not good with his fingers.

Not that either he nor Rhaenyra were aware of this.

But it meant they made little progress, and all attempts had ended much like the first.

Despite being married for twenty days, Rhaenyra was still a maiden.

Harwin insisted it was enough to kiss her, and to lay with her.

It wasn’t enough for her, though.

It was strange how all the things she loved about him were the same things causing her resentment.

She could hardly complain—what would she say? Her husband was too kind. Her husband didn’t wish to hurt her. Her husband was too honorable to even stay aroused when she was in any sort of distress.

Gods, women would swoon at the thought of a man so honorable. And Rhaenyra would have, too, a month ago.

But now…

Rhaenyra knew she was more than a vessel for an heir. But that was all she was to her father, and his council, and his kingdom. The expectation of conceiving someday was there, it was why she had wed. And the lack of success and consummating the match was a failing that seemed to guarantee her future failure, too. .

But what could she do? It was too late to tell someone. It would invalidate the marriage and make them vulnerable. More than that, it was embarrassing. Harwin has been promoted to Commander of City Watch, and though he had thrived in the role, men were fickle creatures. They were eager to compare their virility in a bedroom to all they did beyond it—this fact would make Harwin seem weak, even if the kindness should have been seen as a strength.

It was embarrassing for her, too. She had failed to take him—her duty as his wife, perhaps her singular duty as his wife.

She tried. She was willing! She begged him. She knew any pain would fade, but Harwin denied her. And every time she was left naked, alone, and humiliated.

If she believed in a god, she would pray to them.

Pray for someone who loved her without reservation.

Pray for someone who would hurt her in this way.

Daemon returned a moon later and was apologetic for missing her wedding—”I would have liked to see it—or at least the bedding ceremony.” He said with a teasing leer.

At the mention of that, Rhaenyra burst into tears.

The truth came out with them, as she cried into the leather vest covering her uncle’s chest.

He kissed the top of her head, shushing away her worries and fears as his thumbs brushed tears off her reddened cheeks.

“I’m here now, I’ll help you. I promise.”

He had never broken a promise to her before. She knew he wouldn’t break this one, either, and the relief it brought her was palpable.

Harwin complained at supper that patrols had been changed—as commander he could adjust the schedules, giving him a reprieve opposed to taking night shifts three days in a row, but that would be unfair.

“I shall miss you.” He said with a smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She nodded, poking at her food, realizing this meant he would not come to her rooms that week. “I shall miss you, too.” she said.

It was partially true.

She liked being held at night. The warmth and comforting embrace that reminded her of sneaking into her mother or uncle’s rooms when she was a girl. But with Harwin it made her heartache, too, for his presence in her bed reminded her of what they had failed to do there.

She did not consider that her uncle had orchestrated her husband’s absence. Not until she entered her rooms, ready to retire for the evening, only to find him seated at the table she often ate breakfast at.

“I was not expecting you.” She said, though she wasn’t upset, not really.

He leaned back in his chair—the action rude for he should stand in greeting her, the princess, but they had never cared about such formalities.

“I do not make promises lightly, princess.” He said, his voice smooth.

“Perhaps, but even so I was not expecting you so soon.” She said, correcting herself.

He tilted his head, “I wished to unburden my niece of her troubles, I would not wish suffering upon her for a moment longer. I saw little reason to wait.”

Her lip trembled, he sounded so very sincere. He beckoned for her then, pulling her into his arms and lap. Cradling her like she was a little girl while she clung to him.

“My poor niece has been neglected, does your husband not even do this? Does he not even hold you?” She shook her head, he didn’t, not really. He was afraid to even touch her, most nights, for fear she might find pain in it.

That memory emboldened her—Daemon was here to help her. She wanted to know what that would entail. And so she asked him what was to come.

Daemon’s hand, the one running up and down her back, stilled. “I shall tell you, but you must undress first.”

Rhaenyra felt her cheeks flush. It had to be done, she supposed, in order for him to aid her.

She hadn’t expected him to help, though. It felt oddly intimate, having a man undo the laces and hooks of her dress. Harwin had always come to her later—after she had changed into a chemise, either on her own or with the help of a servant. The sensation of his deft fingers and short nails pulling through the lacing was…nice. She could feel the heat of him behind her, too, and his breath on her neck.

When the dress was in a puddle of fabric on the floor, he peeled the chemise over her head—done so quickly she was too surprised to stop him. She hadn’t realized by undressed he meant fully nude. But she didn’t want to doubt his methods when he was helping her. She was still as a statue—and naked as one too, save for the silk stockings that clung to her legs.

Daemon made no move to touch her, and she found herself almost…disappointed by that, even more so when he backed away.

“Come here—yes, on the table.” He said, tapping the surface of the wood as she turned and looked at him with confusion. She did what he said, feeling awkward as she sat on it, still naked and now with her feet dangling slightly off the floor.

“Now lay back.” Daemon said. She swallowed, still unsure, but she followed the instruction. She felt a warm hand wrap around her ankle—and she damned the stocking that prevented her from feeling it fully. He gently brought the ankle to the table's height, and then—oh.

He repeated the action with her other ankle—the positioning of them had her feet flat on the table, and her knees bent, forcing her thighs to part and fully display her folds. Gods, this was humiliating. She bit her lip, willing him to say something, but the only sound in the room was of fabric shifting—him sitting, and then the scratch of the chair scooting closer. She tilted her head up, slightly, to see him staring intently at her most private parts.

She wanted to cry. This was stupid, she was about to close her legs when his hand stroked her ankle—the pressure of a thumb on the sloping bone helping to calm her, despite the humiliation of the pose.

“This is how a Maester would examine you—but I will attempt to make it less dreadful, and I beg you to feel no shame.” His words were almost reverent when he next spoke, “You’re beautiful, Rhaenyra. You always have been, trust me—have confidence in your beauty here too.” He whispered, and she thought he might be leaning in closer.

Her own breath hitched at the compliment, suddenly feeling a bit warm.

“I’ve seen more cunts than I can count—whores, lady’s, queen’s, and everything in between, but none as perfect as yours.” He said, sounding sincere.

“I have to touch you, to help.” He said—opposed to asking her if he could touch her. But he did say, “I shall stop, if you ask me too. I promise.”

She nodded, and he squeezed her ankle before it began.

He pressed on her stomach and stroked around the flesh between her legs—gently parting her folds but making no effort to penetrate. His fingers moved above her slit, his thumb gently pressing a bud of flesh that rested there.

“Has he touched you here?” Daemon asked, and she shrugged. He had tried, she thought. But he had large hands, his fingers were not very precise.

Her uncle made a humming noise, and she heard the sound of a bottle uncorking. His finger returned to that spot, this time slick with something, and then he began rubbing.

Gods, that was lovely. She wanted more of that. It was like the coil of arousal she had felt was finally expanding—lengthening into a spring as it was all drawn to the place where his finger was—and then he stopped.

She whimpered, and Daemon calmed her before once again parting her folds. “Good, that’s good.” He murmured, “You’re wet now—you just needed to feel good, before your cunt would consider allowing something inside it. Some women can’t get wet, but not you—not your perfect cunt, it’ll weep and gush as it should, it just requires your partner to earn it first.”

Rhaenyra blushed, not sure what to think about that.

“Now that you’re wet this shouldn’t hurt.” Daemon said, and she felt a digit slip into her. She whimpered a little at the stretch—though he was right, it didn’t hurt, exactly. He curled it inside of her before thrusting it gently. When he paired the movement with his thumb pressing down on that spot above she—ohhhh.

She was moaning, she thought, and her head ached from where it had slammed against the table. She didn’t even notice when he added another finger, too concerned with the pleasure. Her hips arched against his hand as she rode out her release—her first release, before collapsing back to the lacquered wood

Daemon was stroking her still, his fingers wet and slipping easily across her skin. “That was good, Rhaenyra. Now—you’re relaxed and wet, this is when a man should try and enter you,” Her breath hitched, and Daemon smiled—”Or,” he continued, “When they should try to stretch you for such an entry.”

Two fingers pressed back in, curling and making her plead for something. Something more.

A third finger squeezed in between the other two, sinking in without incident but making her hiss when it settled fully inside her. It wasn’t the stretch so much as the sharp sensation of cool metal on the hot overstretched skin of her cunt—a signet ring. A Targaryen signet ring. She thought with a whimper. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but the ring reminded her of who was doing this to her—her uncle, her Daemon, and she wanted to watch.

He had been watching her, she realized with a little gasp—her eyes opening only to see his own gazing at her in return. And then she saw his mouth move before she heard the words, it was as if everything was off slightly.

“Do you want more?” He asked, and she nodded without hesitation. “What do you want?” He followed, and her brow creased—wasn’t it obvious? He smiled, a soft thing, at her confusion.

“I could fill you with a taper—just enough to rid you of the film that ails you.” She shook her head, she didn’t want him to remove his fingers only to replace it with some object as impersonal as a taper.

“The alternative is my cock, Rhaenyra.” He said. She knew he was going to say it, watching his lips form the harsh sounds with an eagerness that was shown when she nodded in response.

He smiled, fingers lazily pumping into her while his other hand freed his tunic from his trousers. He’d already removed his leather vest, and the belts that held his blades. Whether it was for comfort, or because he intended on their meeting ending this way, she wasn’t sure.

She wasn’t sure she cared.

Why did his intentions matter, when it was she who wanted this?

She didn’t even see the appendage—it was slipped out from his pants and covered by the tails of his smock. But she felt it being lined up with her folds, the tip dragging through the mess of fluids Daemon had drawn from her.

Before it pressed inside, he rearranged her slightly—bringing her legs around his waist and forcing her hips to arch up slightly to meet his own. It was more comfortable, less awkward than before, when she was spread wide for him—though truly even that had not been as embarrassing as she feared.

She had never felt more comfortable with someone than she did with her uncle. She trusted him, in this and in everything—and so there was not a trace of nervousness as he began to press his length into her. It was warm, and big, but everything was so incredibly slick that it felt right.

His hand guided the appendage, feeding it slowly into her folds—there was no awkward ramming or thrusts that resulted in him between her thighs instead. He was practiced in this, that much was obvious. But it didn’t bother her—the practice had contributed to this being good and she was grateful for that.

She whimpered as her folds swallowed the head of him—and then bit her lip, tensing—worried he might stop at the sound. It wasn’t painful, it was just a lot and her body conjured a noise that wasn’t entirely of pleasure. But even that had been enough to make Harwin still, and she didn’t want that to happen now.

But Daemon didn’t stop, his hand stroked her thigh until she relaxed, and then he carried on—pressing deeper. God the stretch of it, his fingers had not prepared her for that, and it ached, the muscles unused to being strained from the inside in such a way. She whined, biting her lip so he wouldn’t hear—but Daemon’s thumb pulled her lip from her teeth’s prison.

“I want to hear you.” He said, words firm.

She shook her head before admitting, “I might cry.”

He smiled, a twisted crooked thing, “I’m almost certain you will, my delicate little princess.”

She shifted a little—still speared on the first inch of his length. “Y-you won’t stop, if I do?” She asked nervously.

“Oh sweetheart, I promise you, tears have never been the reason my desire wanes. Especially not from you—you look so pretty when you cry, princess, makes me so hard. Don’t hide it from me. I swear I will stop at the word ‘no’ and nothing less.”

God, the relief that offered her—she felt her entire body relax. She didn’t even flinch when he warned the next bit might sting. She just nodded, her eyes closed and fingers gripping the edge of the table.

She wailed when he seated himself fully inside her, the task done with a single thrust that bludgeoned through whatever barrier of innocence remained—then went so far beyond it she swore he was in her guts.

It hurt. It was like the pain of every previous attempt combined and multiplied by a thousand, the tearing sensation in her core so sharp she was sobbing. His length was unyielding inside her, solid as an iron stake, and feeling like one for how it burned. But there was a relief in this fact, that he was still hard—that he had done it, she had done it. He hadn’t pulled out, even as she writhed and whimpered and cried.

Her tears were in pain—partially, but they were in relief too. Finally she wasn’t a maiden, and she had her uncle to thank for that.

One of his hands was stroking her thigh, while the other cupped her neck—his thumb brushing tears away from her cheek while he remained inside her, unmoving, and likely waiting for the pain to fade. She wasn’t sure it would. Her whimper of, “It hurts, kepa.” Was evidence of that.

His expression was one of sympathy—but his words were not an apology. “That’s because you’re so perfect, a cunt so tight your husband can’t even handle it, can he? It’s so little and so pretty.” He paused for a moment, his eyes squeezing shut as if trying to control himself. “But the prettier the cunt, the more it hurts at first. It has to be broken in, sweetheart, before it feels good.”

She nodded, though to be honest she wasn’t entirely listening, too distracted by the pain. It was still there—though not as sharp, it was as if the points had dulled slightly and it was more of a throbbing than a stabbing. It was still enough to make tears leak from her eyes, though. She couldn’t help it. She wasn’t used to pain, not like this.

But Daemon was there. Which made it better, somehow. He didn’t coddle her. He didn’t stop. He was honest with her, that this might hurt—but that it would pass, and he would be there.

Gods, she loved him.

She loved his fingers, too, especially now as they slid between their bodies—finding that little bud above her folds. It was stretched too, as if he had pulled it closer to her opening with his cock. He freed it, though, and rubbed the sensitive nerve with slick fingers. It felt good, both the sensation and the reminder of how this had led to pleasure earlier in the evening.

A shadow of that pleasure seemed to loom, lingering below the clouds of pain. And for the first time since he entered her she could imagine it feeling good, even if that feeling was far away. He seemed to sense this too, for he started moving.

She had thought it might make things worse—like a leather shoe rubbing against a blister turned wound on your heel, adding to the rawness. But it wasn’t, it was a relief, the movement creating a distraction from the pain that turned into…something else. She closed her eyes and let her body move with Daemon’s, the thrust creating a rhythm of the flesh that was so unfamiliar, so unlike her other attempts with Harwin.

Daemon was nothing like him.

He was better. Part of her whispered.

Harwin didn’t love you enough to do this.

Harwin was too weak to do this.

She moaned, surprising herself—and then it happened again—her eyes fluttering open to see Daemon smirking, almost victorious at the noise of pleasure he had wrenched from her.

“Does it feel good now, princess? Getting used to the feeling of a cock in that pretty cunt. Just a matter of time until you crave this, too.” He said, hiking her leg higher and leaning forward to brace his other arm on the tangle. The angle changed and she moaned loudly, her hands rising from the table to reach for Daemon. The length inside her wasn’t enough, she wanted to feel his flesh beneath her palms. Beneath her lips. She wanted him everywhere.

She wanted him.

His thrusts were emphasized with a grinding motion now and it was pressing him even deeper in a way that felt unnatural and impossible but not unwelcome. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but suddenly her body had decided to accept him, and decided to allow the pain to fade away. It wasn’t a conscious choice on her part, she could only thank the gods for it—because gods, she was grateful for this feeling.

Her hips were rising from the table to meet his own, and his chest was heaving—a droplet of sweat falling from the tip of his nose and landing on her neck, the exertion he was putting forth obvious. They were both moaning, the sounds of their breaths and hips meeting contributing to the sinful noises that echoed through the room.

They would echo in her head after, too, she thought. She’d never forget this—the way he felt inside of her, and the way he sounded. This is how it should have been—this is how it should always be.

Her nails dug into Daemon’s shoulders—more like claws than fingers with the brutality of their grip. Daemon just moaned, his own fingers digging into her thighs, so hard that even his dull nails felt like daggers against her skin. She wasn’t sure why that of all things did it, but the sharp sensation was one too many—she burst.

She clenched down so tightly Daemon hissed, as if the pressure wounded him. Her core was trying to force him out, but he was stronger, continuing to thrust through the pulse of her muscles in a way that made her release just keep going.

It took all her energy with it, and when the tingles of pleasure began to fade, fatigue set in. She slumped against the table, her desire—her ability to participate had been drained from her. Daemon didn’t seem to mind, though, his pace didn’t change—though he gripped her more tightly and his gaze strayed to where he was entering her.

She wondered if it looked obscene, it must, surely? She’d felt herself down there—the slit that seemed much too small for anything more than a finger. But he’d fit three in there, and then somehow his cock had followed. And it was perfect, but she doubted it looked that way—Daemon’s expression could have fooled her, though, he looked awed by what he saw.

[He was]

[She did not know that he had dreamed of this.]

[That he had been enraged by his actions that forfeited his right to this, to her.]

[That he thought he had lost his chance at this, at having her like this.]

[But no, his little niece—married for a month and still a virgin, as if she was waiting for him.]

[He’d taken it from her, happily, biting back the desire to come when she whimpered and struggled because her tiny little cunt was too tight for his cock. But she took it. He made her take it. And she had loved it, she’d come from it, and now—gods, he didn’t know if she was still conscious but he was going to finish.

It was going to happen soon. The sight was too good—her stretched around his length, body clinging to him and pulling him back in while also fighting him, trying to rid itself of the appendage. It was perfect. She was perfect, now more than ever, with her folds stretched out around him and messy from come, blood, and sweat that had spread from his cock to her pelvis with the enthusiasm of his thrusting.

He wanted to make her even more messy. Wanted to fill her so full of his seed she was choking on it. With so much she got pregnant.

Fuck—that was it, he spilled inside her, deep thrusts that he ground even deeper. He wanted it to get to her womb, he wanted his seed to plant a baby in her before her husband could. If he would even live long enough to. He was slamming into her now and she was whimpering, and he wasn’t sure if it was in pleasure or pain, he didn’t care. His purpose was getting all his seed into her, where it wouldn’t spill. Even if it hurt—she’d understand when it was their child she held to her breast.]

[Eventually, he was empty.]

She was empty—he had come, gods he had come, so much. She was sure when he finally finished and slipped out of her that it would come pouring out—enough to fill a washbasin, if not two. But she couldn’t focus on what was spilling out, no, all she felt was empty.

He had split her open and hollowed her out, rearranged her body to make a place for his cock and then just taken it from her, and he was gone, and she was crying before she even knew what she was sad about. Daemon hugged her to his chest as she, not for the first time that day, sobbed into his fabric covered shoulder.

It was a long time before she was calm enough to speak—but Daemon seemed to know, asking her, “What’s wrong? What can I do?”

She pulled back from him, so she could see his face—his eyes lined with concern and face set in a frown.

“Don’t leave me again. Not ever. If you go, you have to take me with you. The Keep is empty—I’m empty without you, especially now.” She said, wiping snot from her nose and using her thumbs to rub away tears. He had always filled her emotionally—the cups of joy and happiness never as full as they were in his presence. But now that she knew what it was like to be full of him physically, too, she couldn’t imagine being parted.

“Okay. But—I must warn you, I take my job of filling you very seriously.” He teased in an attempt to lighten her mood and it worked—she laughed.

Eventually, a peacefulness settled between them, a contentness with his palm stroking her hair and her nose against the bone of his collar. He was standing, while she remained seated on the table they had just coupled on, making their difference in height less dramatic than it usually was. And so, when her chin tilted up slightly, she found her mouth so very close to his—close enough to kiss.

They hadn’t done that yet, and she remembered—faintly, him saying to her as a girl, ‘kisses are for those you plan to marry’.

Well. That settled it.

She cupped his cheek, drawing him to her and letting their mouths meet.

Poor Harwin never made it back to his wife’s bed—the streets were a dangerous place. Sometimes the gold cloak served as a beacon instead of protection.

When Rhaenyra started showing, people pitied the young widow all the more.

(After all, they had no idea she spent nearly every night in her uncle’s bed.)

Her father was almost thankful, when Daemon offered to wed her—to treat any child like his own.

(After all, they would be, but they had no idea of that, either.)

Rhaenyra was a beautiful bride—her eyes bright and smile wide when she leaned in to kiss her new husband. Daemon was a prince, but in her eyes he was better. He was a knight, a protector, and her uncle. He loved her as only another Targaryen could.

She cried on her second wedding night, too.

Daemon wasn’t a good man, after all.

And he was far too good with his fingers.

He drew nearly a half dozen orgasms from her, leaving her writhing and pleading and sobbing until finally he entered her with his cock.

That was finally enough to satisfy her.

stories with similar themes,

Daemyra prevailing over Rhaewin: Being Strong | 6k words / complete / Modern!AU Global Warming | 4k/complete/Modern!AU

crying during sex: deliciae | 8k/complete/westeros!au give me what i want | 15k words / complete / historical westeros!AU ←also one of my favorite things i’ve written.

thanks for reading <3

#hotdaemyra #hotdaemyraautumn #hotd #kinktober #fanfic #amorous autumn #ao3 #daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #house of the dragon #Rhaenyra Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen #fic #a03 #daemon x Rhaenyra #HOTD #Angie writes #size kink

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fenicenera83 · 1 year ago

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Day 7

Ancient Rome AU

Author’s note: This story was born from my curiosity about the festivities of ancient Rome. I wanted something joyful and sparkling, and I discovered the Festival of the goddess Flora. During these days of festivity the divinity of Flora was celebrated, with theatrical entertainments and games. The temples were covered with flowers, and the women dressed in bright colors, while the men adorned their heads with wreaths of flowers. This festival was characterized by a joyful and sensual atmosphere. And that’s just what I needed!

The shining night of April 27th, had seen the beginning of the six days of celebration in honor of the goddess Flora. Marius was now a man, recently returned to Rome, after completing his military service. Marius, however, was already thinking about a new journey to a new experience. He would leave Rome, again, and travel following his thirst for knowledge. Provoking his father’s disbelief, he would raise his arms to heaven, and then put on him new sandals and all sorts of little things for the care of the person, all brand new, without saying anything, among the things that Marius would prepare for departure. Marius would have stayed just for the love he had for his father, but he could not, not only wanted to put on paper all that he would see and hear, continue to write and document the story that ran before his eyes. He wished to leave there, at that time he felt suffocated in the vast city, too many things had happened, all very close to each other, that had somehow upset Marius. He had to think, and he couldn’t do it there. But now, it was time to leave those thoughts behind, the party echoed around him, and it was a pleasure for the eyes and senses. That year the plebeian builders, they seemed to have spared no expense, to make the party beautiful. Or perhaps simply, they hoped to win the favor of the people, and the votes in the elections that were approaching, give a Roman a burdensome situation to bear and he will then make it pleasant to tell. The day was spent in theatrical performances, women wore bright colors, men wreaths of flowers in their hair. That cheerful atmosphere, framed by great drinking, helped Marius forget about his problems.

Although it was an open festival that attracted a certain lasciviousness, Marius preferred to stay on the sidelines, as usual for the sake of truth, so much so that he refused even the push and excitement, the shouting and his name screamed, that made him blush, by his brothers, who invited him to join their screams, to the actresses, who at the request of the audience, undressed at the end of the shows. Marius, had shaken his head, ignoring the curses of his brothers, had remained happy in his corner, writing the chronicles of that particular feast, which opened in the Roman people hope for the arrival of spring. Moving among the crowd, Marius noticed, as was almost always the case during that festival, boys fighting money thrown in the crowd, on which were engraved scenes of sex, who owned them could access free of charge to the brothels of the city. He passed over amused, but something else caught his eye. He stopped to observe the scene in a daze, the litigation was not a coin. Two men, quite tipsy, were pulling, one for the robe, the other for the arm, a young man, who seemed quite combative towards both.

Marius immediately noticed the auburn hair and the proud eyes of a delicious shade of brown. He didn’t look Roman, but not even a slave, his robes too refined. He was lost? And where did he come from? Was he an artist who performed at the festival? It was easy for him to realize why those two thugs were bothering that young man, his beauty, and the party an excuse to claim to behave in a disgraceful manner.

Marius deeply admired beauty, in everything in the world, but it had to be respected and understood, not used or raped for our own personal pleasure, there was a soul behind that beauty, and it was the one that often generated such external beauty. But most prefer to ignore it, devote themselves to the exterior, venerate a simple shell, when in reality it is the soul, even with its ugliness its defects or traumas, its darkness and its light, to make a person precious and truly beautiful, in its totality. When the young man’s voice grew louder, and the crown of blue flowers shaded white, which he wore on his head fell to the ground, one of the two men pulled him with more force. The latter had raised his hand, ready to hit the boy, but the hand in question was stopped by a large hand, but with graceful fingers and the scene stopped, as if time was no longer moving. The two men stared stunned at the tall and noble figure that had just intruded, the ice eyes, made them shudder. The pressure on the man’s hand became more intense, the pain pressing, and he was forced to let go of the young man. Under the scrutiny of those blue eyes, the man wobbled and then ran away, as soon as his hand was left free. When Marius' blue eyes landed on the other man, the latter seemed to consider his situation, which gave the boy time to kick him directly between his legs, and reduce him to a heap of laments on the side of the road.

Marius, curbing the laughter that threatened to come out of his mouth, had little time to consider what to do, two dark pools stared at him, the boy’s eyes shining proud of the color of amber, to the dim light of the bronze lamps. As Marius tried to speak, bending down to gather the crown of blue flowers, he realized that the young man before him possessed an immense beauty, the pride of his eyes, such as the serious and determined frown, or the fearless expression of his lips, the same beauty that Homer had sung in honor of Ganymede. They stared, Marius with a smile handed him the wreath of flowers, the boy took it with combative action, then seemed to reconsider his behavior, and detached something that he had attached to the belt at the waist. Marius, disconcerted, thought that the boy wanted to offer him money for being helped, but before he could say anything, the boy with the auburn hair stood up on his toes, and with difficulty, laid a crown of red roses on Marius' head, who remained petrified. He heard the cheerful and encouraging laughter of the men and the quiet and flirtatious laughter of the women who were passing by and had witnessed the scene. The significance of donating a wreath during the Flora festival was well known, and the delicate but sensual kiss that the young man placed on Marius' cheek made it known that he too was well aware of the gesture he had made. Both remained silent, reddened in their faces, curious and embarrassed by what they were feeling.

Then the boy with a smile, took Marius’s hand and together they spent the night in the middle of the party. Time passed, Marius could not find out where that boy came from or who he was. After that night, the boy with the auburn hair had not wanted to leave him. At first there was the barrier of the language, the boy did not speak Latin, nor any of the languages that Marius tried to speak to him. Marius did not lose heart, and they managed to find a way for them to communicate, while Marius taught the boy Latin. The boy learned quickly, intelligent and curious, had a sharp mind and a determined character. Seasons passed, and with them the boy grew, and with him grew his adoration for Marius, and the same feeling was reflected in Marius' cobalt blue eyes, which were also full of pride. In time that unconditional worship was the bride of the love that blossomed and grew in the soul of both strong and indomitable. Their life was a path of mutual support and love, faithful and devoted to each other they walked the time that was given to them in the world. Each year, during the feast of Flora, hand in hand, one with a crown of blue flowers, the other with a crown of red roses, celebrated the day they were blessed with their meeting. And in the life that came after, they embraced again, their unbreakable bond, their indelible love.

#Marius/Armand appreciation week #Marius/Armand appreciation week DAY 8 - Post prompts

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feyre-hel-dresden · 2 years ago

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Gore questions 1 thru 20 hehe ;)

1. Have you ever considered killing someone?

I've had fantasies about it, and of course sometimes people annoy me to a level that I debate it, due to a history of bullying and trauma. But other than that... Well, that would be telling wouldn't it

2. Would you touch a corpse?

Yes, my friend from childhood, sister, and my ex girlfriend, not die to me killing her before you ask, but I kissed her forehead at her funeral

3. Have you ever had a sexual attraction to a corpse?

I've had an attraction to pictures of them, but the last times I had seen a corpse, sexual attraction wasn't something I was great at honestly

4. Ever tasted someone elses blood?

Yes, many times actually

5. Honest thoughts about cannibalism?

Can definitely see why it would be hot, and occasionally I write about it, but I'm not massively into it

6. Favorite killer and why?

Are we talking rl or fiction? I'll answer both either way. Rl, first thing that comes to mind is Stephen marshall, he basically became a vigilante and killed sex offenders

Fiction, gotta be ghostface, because I'd get freaky with that

7. Do you collect dead things?

I used to, but lost a large portion of my collection when I moved, however I still have a dog rib, and a broken part of a fox skull

8. Would your victims be women or men, does it matter?

Doesn't matter to me

9. Strangulation or blunt force?

Hmmm, it depends on my feelings for you. If I love you? Strangle, if I hate you I'll beat your head I'm with a brick

10. Shooting or stabbing?

Stabbing

11. What would cause you to snap?

Hmm, idk actually, it's been 5 years if me having this kink, and I never actually killed so who knows

12. Which is more your style: school shooting or serial murder?

Serial, I may like killers but I find school shooters awful people, there is no reason for that behavior, and if someone on my life says they wanna be a school shooter I will stop talking to them

13. If you could have sex with any serial killer, alive or dead, who would you choose?

Never actually thought about it, might have to make a follow up post for that

14. How would you leave the body?

Leave it? No no you take it with you, you keep it

15. Would you keep trophies, if so, what?

Well, see above

But if it has to be just one, the heart

16. Do you believe in the death penalty for murder? No

17. What fascinates you about death?

The calmness of a corpse, the cold touch, the feeling of peace

Also trauma fucked me up sooo

18. Are you based more in fantasy or reality?

Fantasy I suppose, but I wish I could move more to reality, it's hard currently as I live in a household full of people, one of whom is somewhat abusive, but soon

19. If the opportunity ever arose, would you consume human flesh?

Absolutely, just to see what it's like

20. The song you would play during a violent act?

I have a whole playlist, so I'll make a follow up about this later on too

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hisui555 · 5 days ago

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Alright I'll bite.

0: Height : 1m80 (around 6"), but only if I raise my arms.

1: Age : older than you might think.

2: Shoe size : enough to hurt when I kick.

3: Do you smoke? : no but I often end up fuming. I also roast, too.

4: Do you drink? : what do you think I am, a camel ? Well... you're correct. I also hate alcohol.

5: Do you take drugs? : I heard they exacerbate personality traits, and I already am an asshole sober. So that's gonna be a no.

6: Age you get mistaken for : at least 10 years younger if not half of it. See 1.

7: Have tattoos? : my shirts have them for me. Also, do scars count ?

8: Want any tattoos? : see 7.

9: Got any piercings? : I have a piercing screech but that's it.

10: Want any piercings? : see 9.

11: Best friend? : my moirail. Also my cats. Yes they're different living beings, the first walks on two legs.

12: Relationship status : I haven't caught that Pokémon yet, entry in the dex unknown.

13: Biggest turn ons : 404 not found.

14: Biggest turn offs : sex.

15: Favorite movie : anything with a good plot. This should take out at least 3/4th of Hollywood and other rip-offs. (Fine, fine, I like Inception, Coraline, Encanto, Spirited Away, Durarara!!, Baccano!, etc)

16: I’ll love you if… : a terrible decision, really.

17: Someone you miss : friends and family, my past cats, and maybe my childhood sense of wonder.

18: Most traumatic experience : I have multiple, pick your poison.

19: A fact about your personality : I'm not always sacarstic - sometimes I'm asleep.

20: What I hate most about myself : ohohoh BOYYYYY I might already note that down on a paper roll, we'll be there all day.

21: What I love most about myself : did I stutter ?

22: What I want to be when I get older : I am older. Still wanting to be a comics author though, and I draw.

23: My relationship with my sibling(s) : we uphold the Siblings Code - annoy the hell out of each other, but only we can do that.

24: My relationship with my parent(s) : dad's okay. Mom is like a tornado - arrived all hot and humid, fled out with the car and furniture, leaving bruises and a broken home during the stay. Also see 18.

25: My idea of a perfect date : ...those things exist ?

26: My biggest pet peeves : hypocrisy - which I am aware that I can be a hypocrite too. Or else that's just hypocritical.

27: A description of the girl/boy I like : for that I should start liking people, let's not get ahead of ourselves here.

28: A description of the person I dislike the most : people-shaped.

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend : because I know they have a lot on their plate already.

30: What I hate the most about work/school : work/school.

31: What my last text message says : "work/school"

32: What words upset me the most : depends on the context. Most of all "I don't know what to do with you." - yeah, me neither.

33: What words make me feel the best about myself : depends on the context, but "I like what you do" and "I would like to be friends" tend to do the trick.

34: What I find attractive in women : who ?

35: What I find attractive in men : huh ?

36: Where I would like to live : in a house.

37: One of my insecurities : being unfair and unjust to people.

38: My childhood career choice : starving, er I mean artist.

39: My favorite ice cream flavor : have more than one, so from vanilla to mango to coffee to chocolate to whatever... I guess crème brûlée is a good one.

40: Who I wish I could be : not me, that's for sure. Also add "successful" to that.

41: Where I want to be right now : at the stage that 40 offers.

42: The last thing I ate : my pride. And words.

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately : ...I think you didn't really got the point here, bud.

44: A random fact about anything : last time I tried to embrace my inner child, the little asshole bit me. I'm also bilingual and a fluent English speaker, so I get to be stupid and annoying in 3 languages.

#anon ask game #hisuionyx #hisui555 #ask game

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rico-hyuuga · 2 months ago

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Nosey Anons:

0: Height :

5 Ft. 7in

1: Age:

19-25

2: Shoe size:

3: Do you smoke?

No, I am aaaa medican Ninja and vant rish anything thaat slows me in baattle

4: Do you drink?

Yes

5: Do you take drugs?

6: Age you get mistaken for:

7: Have tattoos?

Clan symbol shakra seal on lower back

8: Want any tattoos?

Maybe one day

9: Got any piercings?

Ear rings

10: Want any piercings?

Two

11: Best friend?

Zavimaru and Zabimaro

12: Relationship status:

Singel

13: Biggest turn ons:

tall guys with big feet

14: Biggest turn offs:

Unwashed people

15: Favorite movie:

Don't really know "Mun: Queen of the damned)

16: I’ll love you if…:

You are honest with me

17: Someone you miss:

Mother and Father

18: Most traumatic experience:

Loss of mother during an attack

19: A fact about your personality:

I have a habit of speaking my mind too much

20: What I hate most about myself:

Everything Habit of trying to live up to the ideals of a noble house

21: What I love most about myself:"

The ability to make others smile

22: What I want to be when I get older:

Head of a powerful clan

23: My relationship with my sibling(s):

Only Child

24: My relationship with my parent(s):

Good they would be proud of me

25: My idea of a perfect date:

A date where we both smile. Possible watching the stars and talking with drinks

26: My biggest pet peeves:

People talking over me

27: A description of the girl/boy I like:

Tall... powerful...epic signature Jutsu...Big dick and great sex

28: A description of the person I dislike the most:

smells bad while attacking villages

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend:

Keeping them from trying to save me in battle.

30: What I hate the most about work/school:

The need to constantly becoming more dangerous to keep others safe

31: What my last text message says:

Dont text but sent a note to a jounin with my summoning

32: What words upset me the most:

You are not worthy of your title

33: What words make me feel the best about myself:

My mission record

34: What I find attractive in women:

Their personality

35: What I find attractive in men:

Height

36: Where I would like to live:

Land of Lightning

37: One of my insecurities:

not being enough

38: My childhood career choice:

Clan Head

39: My favorite ice cream flavor:

Vanilla

40: Who I wish I could be:

Tobirama Senju

41: Where I want to be right now:

With my clan

42: The last thing I ate:

Curry

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately:

Indra

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iwantjobs · 5 months ago

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7/7/02024: Supposedly, before I leave America eternal as the female Buddha, I am going to let it all out and let them all have it. Then when I go back to where I belong commie Vietnam (if it's not too gay) for fear they'll jail me, I am only going to do only fashion, music, cooking low-fat vegan and meat food, gardening, caregiving, volunteering, education, exercise, children, praying, cleaning kitchen, bathroom , and toilets with clean chemicals and little water, sweeping the street, and cleaning garbage areas, killing snakes and roaches--things that women are experts in. Then after I die as the female buddha, I am going to let it all out, too after my analysis of.living in commie country and asia. I, Trang, am a website that has an opinion on everything in the univser and it will be on my Tumblr account. My Tumblr website is like a a magazine that includes music, fashion, politics, war, God as the father of Jesus,hardcore heterosexuality only, dancing, gossips, 3rd-base sex, health, exercise, law, night clubs for hardcore heterosexuals only, philosophy, children, environment, animals, education, dieting, aging, death, caregiving, volunteering , travel while at home, or whatever is going on in my little head daily. Everything, I have an point on everything until I go back to Vietnam to live, the I'll shut off or else they jail me for jail for a hardcore heterosexual female is hell for there's no men. I can do this while being trapped at home as a professional housewife, mother, or a spinster. I'll do this until the last day on my death bed and I chose Tumblr because of many reasons, but at the end, it's the only website that allows me to type zillion of words out of my head unlike other websites. I guess I am going to be a hardcore heterosexual influencer and how I make people is people to Zelle me money and tumt will give me a share of advertising money while I work as a part-time volunteering caregiver and a crippled and mental spinster taking online courses /housewife. Trang's thinking at 51.22 years old.

I don't know what's wrong with My disabled body with mental illness now during the summer heat inside the garage, but after I do some volunteering caregiver chores and eat breakfast-lunch, read up on latest news and gossips, cripped exercise-dancing for 5 minutes by listening to music, brush my teen and tongue, go to the bathroom, my body crashes into a deep quick sleep. If people don't leave me alone to sleep, I crack by cursing, cussing, and wish death upon them. If I had a boyfriend or husband with this disabled body with mental illness, I'll kill him with curses, too. If I don't lay down and sleep, I would fall and faint and go to the emergency. After I wake up from a quick collapsed dead sleep, I wake up call energized and strong again with eyes not tired at all and nice again. If I had children in this disabled body with mental illness, I'll kill my children with curses. Weird huh?I placed a tape ther to prevent that part of my face from sagging for its getting a bit ugly. My invention of stretching out my crippled, tight, dislocated, calcium build-uo neck and head. The red chair pushing down is like having a physical therapy pushing down my rights to crack out the pain. I am writing all this for future doctors and psychiatrist and physical therapists to read my Tumblr. This my last meal of the day (2nd meal)before I stop eating at 1 p.m. to lose my 🐷 double-chin and 🐖 belly which will amek my nose less fat 🐷 like. When I got fat and my nose got fat and the nostrils got bigger somehow which makes me like like a pig, then came up with the thinking saying, "Sheesh Trang, a pig looks like you and even cuter than you. If you don't diet and exercise now, I am going to punish you and turning you into meat as a human like a poor little pig."

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mariavlc82 · 5 months ago

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I don't usually get asks when I reblog an ask game, so... I'm gonna answer some of these questions unprompted:

Is a kiss considered cheating? Yes, and that's something that you should discuss with your significant other at the beginning of your relationship.

Have you ever faked orgasm? No

If you could have one superpower, what would it be? Reading minds at will.

Do you think you are going to be rich in 7-8-9 years? No, LOL, I'm not even trying to.

If you had to choose one way to die, what would it be? I would like my heart to stop beating during my sleep.

What are your current goals? A stable position in my current job and renovating my flat.

Do you like your body? I try to be ok with it, but I gained 10 kg in 4 years and it bothers me.

Can you keep a diet? I've never tried.

If the whole world listened to you right now, what would you say? Be kind, get vaccinated and climate change is real.

Do you work? Yes, for the past 17 years I've only been jobless for 6 months or so.

Would you get a tattoo? No.

Something you don’t mind spending all your money on? Food.

Can you drive? Yes.

What was the last thing you cried for? A couple of days ago I attended the graduation ceremony at my school and I shed a tear or two. I am very fond of some of those kids.

Do you keep a journal? No, I have never been able to.

Is life fun? It should be.

Are grades in school important? Yes they are, but they are not the most important thing.

What was the last book/movie that really impressed you? Oppenheimer and Dune Part 2.

What was your last lie? "Have a nice summer, thanks for everything" Me at a parent-teacher meeting.

Is crying in front of people embarrassing? No, but try not to cry in front of people you don't trust; they may use it against you.

Something you are good at? Explaining things, all my students say I am very good at that.

Do you like small kids? Depends on the kid. After a couple of hours I usually get tired.

What would you name your daughter/son? Lola / Álvaro.

What do you need to be happy? Peace of mind.

Is there someone you want to punch in the face right now? Some students and some parents (if you are a teacher you know the feeling).

What was the last gift you received? A cute notebook from one of my students.

What was the last gift you gave? Clothes to my brother in law for his birthday.

Is there something in the past you wish you hadn’t done? Probably some heated argument.

Name one thing that terrifies you. The deep ocean.

What kind of books do you read? Historic novels are my favourite.

What is your favourite flower? Pansies.

Any bad habits you have? Chocolate.

What kind of people are you attracted to? Intelligent and kind.

What was the last thing you cried for? At my dad's funeral.

Is there something you don’t eat? Some food that truly disgust you? Raw fish.

What are 3 things that irritate you about the same sex? What irritates me about some women (because you cannot generalize) is pouty attitude (crying and making pouty lips in order to get things), female misoginy and thinking that if they are not perfect in every aspect they don't have any value.

What are 3 things that irritate you about the opposite sex? One thing that shocks me about some men (you cannot generalize) is that they really go through life thinking they world revolves around them. Arrogance irritates me so much. And last, but not least, many of them think women have reached equality and don't face sexism, and I am always there to explain why they are incorrect.

What are you saving money for? Renovating my flat.

How would you describe your bad side? Mean and petty.

Are you actually a good person? Why? People say I am, I am not so sure, but I try not to judge and I try to help.

Have you ever done anything illegal? Piracy.

Have you ever cheated on someone? No.

Do you play any computer games? What is your favourite game? Transport Tycoon and The Sims (I am old)

Favourite TV series? So many to choose just one (currently obsessions: House of the Dragon and Interview with the Vampire).

Are you religious? Does God exist? No. I don't think so, but also I don't think humans are capable of comprehend the concept of God so who knows.

What do you think about vegetarianism/veganism? It's your choice. And don't forget that choosing what you eat and what you don't eat is a luxury many people don't have.

How long have you been on Tumblr? 12 years.

Do you like Chineese food? Yes.

McDonalds or Subway? McDonalds.

Ever been out of your province/state/country? Yes to all.

What colour are the walls in your room? White.

Share your favourite quote. The quote from Gandalf "All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us" is one of my favourite, but I am sure there are many more I can't remember right now.

What is the meaning of life? To live it.

Do you like horror movies? Not specially.

Have you ever made your mum cry? What happened? Yes, whenever we argue about somethig serious, she's very sensitive.

Do you feel lucky or special in a way? Yes and no simultaneously.

Can you keep a secret? If it is important, yes.

#Sorry not sorry for the self-indulgent long post #About me

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theblackphoenixwritings · 11 months ago

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Day 7

Ancient Rome AU

#marius de romanus #armand #OTP #Roman AU #my writing #Marius/Armand #VC

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no-droids · 4 years ago

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Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you. Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty. There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky. It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running. Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk. It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs. Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day. You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow. So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is. Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you. Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day. Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob. He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him? At what point does it stop? You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance. There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now. You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!” It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile. “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came. “Osiruu is a few hours that way. There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital. I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction. “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view. I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted. You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then. Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her. But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo. Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people. Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring. But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists. The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be. Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life. You never pictured yourself as the fighting type. When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that. Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile. “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there. He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile. Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend. “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey! I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?” She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by. “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II. I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady? She seems like… you, almost. Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs. You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet. “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible. You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad? Are you just an idiot with no hope? You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes? You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here. Plenty. There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business. Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong. There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune. You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors. Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic. The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is. Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes. Fucking shoes, your salvation. You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many. Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design. It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear. Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up? And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper. His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder? One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to? That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that. You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist. There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss. Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then. Through the forest, you suppose. You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again. You have a finger point, that’s all you need. Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over. It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!” A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach. “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it. “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!” The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors. He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit. “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle. “Oh, no. I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs. “Off the bus then please, miss. Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off. “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions. “I’m sorry? Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier. The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them. “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste. Everyone is polite here, it seems. “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place. Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self. Eliminate the need for a back pathing. All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers. You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do. You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink. You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left. You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one. The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all. No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together. You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches. Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell. It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then. Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide. The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind. You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds. Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway. How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated. Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack. There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick. Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up. Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck. It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous. You know it even before you start. The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay. Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need. You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn. If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty. You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again. This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot. You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though. Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be. Water is an eroder. Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees. You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain. The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it. You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can. It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck. You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water. The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall. You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go. With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it. It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found. This… this is doable.

Okay. If you pull this off, you’re a badass. If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation. This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot. Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further. Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself. The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet. It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again. “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond. So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak. You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below. “Uh. Ahem. Hello. Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you. “Or something on your side is too loud. There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about. It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again. You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?” You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before. Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something? Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good? It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough. “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm. Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to. If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended. You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult. “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do? This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well. Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here. You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk. You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem. Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um. Can you give me a second?” You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this. Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?” Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself. Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more. That’s a long way. You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep. Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths. You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second. The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay. Okay, fucking success. It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?” You ask, slightly out of breath. “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go? Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with. As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you. You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing. “Hello? Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?” Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile. “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment. “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again? Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart. It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely. Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do. You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today. You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of. The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right? Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss. The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance. Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright. Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit. You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat. “How’s the baby? Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right. You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.” No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly. “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times. Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along. He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back. Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change? That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father. “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it. The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet. It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees. Shit. “Uh. What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything. Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it? It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is? Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail? Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now. You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make. “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good. Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm. Doubt it,” immediately comes his low response. Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?” Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction. You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth. Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask. Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have? Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly. “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing. “Psh. Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes. He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours. He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?” (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?” (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean? Everyone loves food.” (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um. What’s your favorite color, then?” (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.” (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.” (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be. Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light. Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them. All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier. The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing. If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right? You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time. This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road. The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed. You want a city. This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines. Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows. As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter. “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?” You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you. You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah. So he got to the bus, then. Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile. Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say. Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult. “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full. “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle. Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains. You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest. You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental. It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped. Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes. The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead. Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough. You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in. It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be. The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own. He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop. He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far. You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think. It’s hard to see. Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders. That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right? Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up? Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it. You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy. “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more. “Shit. How d’you… mm. Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking. “You need rest. I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright. Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now. Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are. Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause. “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up. You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it. “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you. You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull. So warm, so gentle. If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest. “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur. Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect. “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did. You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset. “You makin’ fun of me?” You ask him with a harumph. Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know. Is that displeasure or not? It’s not immediately clear. Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now? Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it? “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back. You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright. It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it. “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that. You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember. Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart. Sixteen times sixteen. One forty-four. No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh. “I won’t move until you wake up. Go to sleep. You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you. That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six. You don’t even think Din would. You would, though. On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up. You should know this. And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?” You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless. He doesn’t have to do this. You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows. How do you say this? You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out. “I’m… not in a bed. I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy. You want him to stay. Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt. “Sleep, sweet girl. I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck. Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time. Wait. Don’t panic. Listen.

Breathing. Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black. He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep? Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out. You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen. Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it. Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much. You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box. It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost. Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again. Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator. This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it. He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back. If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful. He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this. You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up. But… these circumstances are their own. You have to capitalize now, this is your chance. You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight. That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to. It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him. Now is the time to hide. You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then. As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy. “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act. “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head. Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…” He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it. “How long have you been up?”

Op. Not good. “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it. “How long?”

How in Maker’s name? This is impossible. How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him? Can you salvage this somehow? “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak. “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh. Well. Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways. There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up. Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over. Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background. It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around. “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though. He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead. “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle. “Alright, I’m up now. See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh. What the fuck was that?

No. Nope, you’re not going to get played. That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time. You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore. You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing. He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it. That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it. Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept. You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big. Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected. It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning. Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh. That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time. If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion. You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly? Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show? You have to stop worrying about him. He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving. While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation. You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?” He asks at one point. So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect. He doesn’t need to know. “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though. This is relevant. “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?” He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile. “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range. I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads. We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding. It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way. Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes. He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think. Someone a little less expressive. This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments. “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke. “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle. You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?” You ask. You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn. It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?” He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger. The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that! It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts. Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him. Good, this is almost over. “Um. Yep. That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod. “When you get to the city, just go straight through. It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting. You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line. That might actually be a good move. Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you. Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right? He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to. Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him. He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it. Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly. “Oh, by the way. I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right. You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store. Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside. You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms. Oh well, you weren’t complaining. Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea. You don’t need to change shoes, not yet. Why? Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you. It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories. It’s an eyesore, it sticks out. But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters. Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left. I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself. Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see. An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now. If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know. Let him know exactly where you are. Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling. If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide. He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night. It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on. It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal. Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever. This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you. You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think? No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe. Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here. And… and slippers, it’s like a dream. Do people normally wear slippers in bed? You do. Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase. This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways. You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky. Violent and periwinkle tonight. You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair. Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath. Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments. Astute, you feel happy. Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here. Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers. You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth. No face, though. Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance. You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed. You… miss him. This mattress would feel softer with him next to you. He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it. You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles. Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters. “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you. “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding. “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you. You love him. Literally every single time, he just knows. Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often. Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again. “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today? How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes? A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal? You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you. “You should be here. I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually. Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting. He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him. He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around. The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead. You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece. “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly. Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie. You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible? He read you that deeply from one single word? You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?” He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?” You don’t even know what to believe anymore. How do you beat this? If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out. His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm. “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.” It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…” your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh. He’s right, that was bad, even for you. “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits. You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step. “I’m nowhere near the city yet. You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown. “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?” He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.” His voice is gruff. You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “You should give yourself more credit. I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss. It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft. It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.” His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve. “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache. You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are. People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself. For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it. You feel so… known, somehow. Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his. He makes you feel loved with it. “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again. You don’t have to say anything, he already knows. “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip. Oh, stars. You hate that you do genuinely consider it. He could be here, and very soon. With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably. He could take a shower. Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one. You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together. You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you. Let him come. You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?” You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement. You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him. Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone. You like to think you’re both better that way. Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?” Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you. It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it? This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting. Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around. The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?” You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit. He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts. His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know. “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you. “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless. Should you push it? You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip. It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach. “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?” You whisper to him devilishly. Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down. Stars, your heart is already pounding. You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason. He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire. “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me. Or you could find me before I’m finished. Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to. The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels. You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?” You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond. Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing. “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him. Dead silence through the comm. You’re starting to understand. For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice. He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm. If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu. You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece. “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen. “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement. When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy. “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now. “Oh shit, does this holocall? Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him. “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear. “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious. He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you? Really?

“You sure?” You ask softly, raising an eyebrow. “You’d get to see me, where I am. What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop. You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all. Did he decline the transmission request? No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before. Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?” You ask. You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath. “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist? Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?” You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows. You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible. “Can you see… this?” You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?” Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more. “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?” Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed. “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet. Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that. How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?” You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden. Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end. Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight. Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit. “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera. Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?” Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again. Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors. You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop. “But the window is open. And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?” Din immediately challenges. Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that. You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him. It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay. Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet�� all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently. It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth. “Does it matter? I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?” You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following. You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator. Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself. Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea. No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well. You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place. Is he just that aroused by you? Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again. Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling. Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back. You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible. You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do. It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell. He’ll be able to see it, you think. The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside. It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip. He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something? You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless. It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you. You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now. You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you. Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples. “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious. “You think—y-you think—”

“What?” You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious. Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering. He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now. “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart. He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it. You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his. He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey. “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not? What have you got to lose? Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways. What’s the worst he can do? Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days. You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you. You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table. It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

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ficsforeren · 3 years ago

Text

The Last Song - Chapter 7

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: Rockstar AU, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn

Series Summary: Eren Jaeger has two personas, a charismatic lead vocal who has lost himself in fame, and a boy who struggles with depression, seeking for someone to bring him back to where he was twelve years ago. Where he only knew love in the form of your name.

Chapter Summary: Eren takes you backstage during his solo concert and you let him know just how much you appreciate his music by raking your nails down his back in an empty dressing room.

Content Warnings: explicit sex (cunnilingus, blow job, fingering, hand job, car sex, dry humping, drunk sex, public sex, unprotected sex, one night stand, choking, treating women like objects, dub-con, corruption, face-sitting, sex toys, daddy kink, praise kink, slight degradation, etc), substance abuse (use of drugs, alcohol, tobacco), severe abandonment issues, childhood trauma, anxiety attacks, depression, adultery, physical abuse towards men and women, family issues, abusive parents, crude words, dark humor, mention of sexual assault/rape, harassment, car accident and child abuse.

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

Eren knew you were falling for him.

Maybe not as hard, maybe not as much, but he knew you felt something. Even before you had the bravery to lay your feelings out in the open, he already could tell. That was why he insisted on not playing by the rules, knowing that they would only hinder your feelings. That it would only give you more reasons to pretend like everything that happened was just meaningless sex when it was everything but.

When he heard how you thought you were just ordinary if being compared to him, Eren was livid. God, he wanted to convince you that you were wrong. The words, “No, you’re perfect. You’re not ordinary, you’re everything I want and more. I’m the one who’s not good enough for you,” were ready to be spoken, sitting there on the tip of his tongue but he clenched his teeth to keep them from bursting out loud. It would’ve probably made things easier if he had just spoken out the truth. If he just said, “I love you. I want you. I need you in my life. You and no one else. Please be mine,” maybe you could have a change of heart and say, “Okay, then should we date?” But it won’t feel right. It will feel… forced.

Feelings are complex little things. Similar to you, Eren has his own insecurities, his own worries. When he saw through your perspective, he realized that oh, I wasn’t the only one who was afraid. It assured him somehow, that he wasn’t the only one who was going insane with this whole Friends-with-Benefits thing going on when he knew you both wanted more. You both wish for something stronger than this, but you also lack faith, not in each other but in yourselves. You think Eren deserves better, someone who’s prettier, more successful, someone who lives in the same world like he does and understands how to maintain relationships in the entertainment industry. Eren believes you deserve the world, someone who can be there for you 24/7, someone who doesn’t resort to drugs and alcohol when the ghost of his past comes to visit. No, someone who doesn’t have ghosts to begin with.

These feelings—these fears… are not something you can solve solely by communicating with each other. They’re built within you, and no amount of words can change how you behave or how you think. You both have your own baggage and if you want this relationship to work then you have to accept them. But how can you expect him to accept your flaws when you can’t even do it yourself? What if after you get together, Eren thinks you’re putting his work and fame in jeopardy but decides to abandon everything anyway just for your sake? You don’t want him to sacrifice anything, especially not for you.

And just like you, Eren is constantly afraid that once he opens himself up further and further, you won’t be able to accept the mess that he brings but tries to live through it just so you won’t break his heart. He knows how kind you can be. You won’t have the heart to break up with him, even if every bit of your soul is screaming for you to just end this already.

No. He won’t let that happen and neither will you.

You couldn’t afford to lose each other just so you could put a label on what you’re sharing with him right now. It’s better to stay like this, to just be with each other like this, rather than to be exclusive only for it to end miserably. You already know how you feel about each other anyway, already do everything that lovers do, already treat each other the best as you can, so what else do you need? It’s enough. It’s more than enough.

This was why he kept on pretending that it was a joke whenever he felt like he was crossing the lines. A part of him wants to take a leap further and announce to the world that, “You’re mine,” but at the same time, he’s frightened. When he asked you to marry him, it was real. When he dared you to fall for him, it was real. And if he told you he loved you, that would be real too. He just kept beating around the bush because Eren didn’t want to force you to fall in love with him. He doesn’t want to convince you that you’re right for him. He doesn’t want to tell you to love him just because he loves you. He wants you to fall in love with him naturally, to fall for him in the same way he fell for you. He wants you to realize on your own that you love him for who he is, not because he, or the situation, demands you to.

And there’s one more reason.

He’s terrified of making decisions, especially when it comes to someone who matters more than his life. The last time he stepped up and made his choice—one that he thought was the right thing to do to keep his family together—he ended up tearing everything apart. It was his fault, and his fault only. He won’t let that happen again. Especially not to you. So he won’t tell you, “I love you. I want you to spend the rest of my life with you.” No, he won’t. He’s not going to make that decision and force you to say yes just because you can’t stand the thought of him leaving after your rejection. You’re going to make the decision for him.

But he’s also not going to put a secret to his feelings anymore. He’s sent you a message, “If you really think you love me, say that you do and I’m yours. I’m ready to risk everything for you.” Right now, he’s just going to make sure to love you as hard as he can, to be the only person that you need, to drown you with every feeling he has until you realize that you don’t need to breathe to survive—you need him. He’s going to show everything to you until he can hear you say the words, “Eren, I really do love you and I want to be together with you no matter what it takes.” And once that happens, he’s going to love you so hard until he feels like he’s going to burst and he will keep that going on forever.

The choice is up to you. To step out of your comfort zone or stay in the circle, your choice, your decision.

***

“You think she’s okay?” Porco Galliard leans further into his seat, his shoulder nearly touching Pieck’s who’s sitting on the swivel chair next to him. The three of you have arrived early for the meeting, waiting for the other co-workers to arrive in the room, as well as your regional manager to start your monthly performance review.

Your raven-haired co-worker drags her eyes away from her iPad to steal a glance at your face. Sitting just across her, you have your shoulders hunch forward, eyes empty as you gaze at your laptop screen, sighing to yourself every two minutes.

Your hands are hovering above your keyboards, ready to type out the word to perfect your presentation but can’t even remember what you’re supposed to write. Your head is in the clouds—well, no, not really. Your thoughts are revolving over a certain male—a handsome boy with stunning jade green eyes, who, as he laid next to you on your bed last night, said the following words: “So, go ahead and fall in love with me. I dare you. Fall in love with me until you feel like you can’t breathe without me.”

How on earth are you supposed to respond to that? No, how will you ever be able to respond to that?

You can feel your blush creeping from your neck to your ears, and you slap both of your cheeks with your palms to erase it. “I am so fucked,” you mewl into your hands.

“Probably just had her first anal,” Pieck concludes as she stares flatly at you.

Porco gives her a leer. “You didn’t look like that when we first did it.”

“It wasn’t my first anal, Pokko.”

“Ah,” he bitterly responds, dragging his eyes—now empty and slightly aggravated—back to you. “I see.”

Pieck tilts her head, her smile is both mischievous and seductive as she runs her eyes up and down his features. “You looked like that when I first pegged you, though.”

“Pieck!” Startled and ashamed by her words, Porco accidentally knocks his water bottle with his hand. It slides across the table, stopping once it hits the back of your MacBook. Only then, that you notice that Pieck and Porco have been gossiping about you. Well, not right now. Right now, Porco has his hands on her shoulders, shaking her back and forth while hissing with his face turning a shade of crimson, “Pieck, for fuck’s sake, I told you to never bring that up again!”

“Oh, welcome back,” Pieck chirps, tossing a smile at you as she shoves Porco away by the face. “You’ve been staring into space for ten minutes. You okay there, hun?”

You close your laptop with the heaviest sigh as if you had spent the last ten minutes trying to solve world hunger. “So, I have a question,” you start. “What do you do when your fuck buddy dares you to fall in love with him?”

Porco and Pieck have the same initial reaction: frowning, looking at each other in confusion before they gaze back at you with judging eyes. “What?” They ask in unison.

Though reluctant, you tell them a quick summary of what happened last night and a few incidents that happened during the first month of your new relationship with him, adding your personal opinion here and there to try to make more sense to yourself. “Have I told you that he’s been writing love songs lately?” You exhale, feeling a migraine coming. “He never did that before and he kept pumping out new love songs ever since we started this relationship and I… can’t help but think that they’re about me.”

Pieck holds back a yawn. “When you’re in love, every song feels like it’s about you.”

You grimace. “Do you think I’m just thinking about this too much?”

“Oh no, honey. He’s definitely in love with you.”

“Why does he keep doing this with me then?” You groan, pathetic and desperate for answers. “He basically told me to fall for him, and he gave me all of these mixed signals—”

“They’re not mixed signals,” Porco corrects. “They’re deadass I’m-in-love-with-you-and-I-want-the-whole-world-to-know-about-it signals.”

“Thanks,” you mutter. “Well, he told me he didn’t want to be in a relationship at first, but then he said he’d be willing to try if it’s with me, like why? Why did he have to say that? If he wants to date me for real then he should’ve just asked, and not teasing me like this.”

“Maybe he’s worried that you might not feel the same way?” Pieck suggests. “Or maybe he didn’t really mean his words. He just said them ‘cause he thought you wanted to hear them.”

“Yeah, men do that,” Porco agrees and both of you glower at him. “What? It’s the easiest thing to do to avoid confrontation.”

“Baby,” Pieck says, completely ignoring him as she takes a hold of your hand. “I hate to be the bitch that drops the bomb on your hopes and dreams, but you gotta think from his point of view. He’s having fun. He gets to have sex with you anytime he wants. Gets to hang out, gets to cuddle, and gets to cry on your shoulder if he needs to. He’s getting all the good parts of a relationship. I think he’s smart. He’s in love with you, I can guarantee that, and he’s trying to make you love him too, but—”

“Which isn’t a bad thing, obviously,” Porco interrupts, folding his arms on his chest. “Falling in love, I mean.”

Pieck narrows her eyes at him. “Pokko, this isn’t a rom-com. They’re fuck buddies for a reason. They’re both terrible at relationships and they don’t want to ruin what they have now.”

“Yeah, well, people can change.” Porco shrugs, a bit frightened when Pieck starts glaring at him but continues to elaborate on his point, nonetheless. “I mean, if you’re sure you love him, and you’re sure he loves you, then just date him for real and see how it goes.”

“You think?” You wince, your mind swirling. “Actually, I’m… I’m still not sure whether I really love him that way. Everything is changing so fast and I’ve never been in love before. How the hell would I know if what I feel for him right now is love and not just, like, a temporary crush or something? What if it’s just physical?”

“Ugh,” Porco rolls his eyes. “Why do women always worry too much?”

“Because I can’t risk our friendship!” You protest, shamelessly whining. “I’m constantly worried that if it doesn’t work out—if dating him ends up with me breaking up with him, then we’ll end up stop being friends. So I’ve been trying my best to not fall for him but I guess…” You grow quiet, cheeks turning scarlet as you admit, “It’s too late now.”

Pieck takes a sip of her latte. “So, you admit that you’re in love with him now?”

You yank at the roots of your hair. “Oh, God, I don’t know.”

“Did he tell you he loved you, though? I mean like literally confessed to you. Not figuratively through his lyrics or some other sappy bullshit he usually did.”

You shake your head. “He just told me he wouldn’t abide by my rules and said he’d have no problem falling for me.”

“Cool,” Porco nods and Pieck jabs her finger to the side of his stomach.

“Well, since you don’t wanna stop having sex with him,” she exhales, “Then the answer is obvious. Keep doing this until you’re sure of your feelings. Ride his cock until you feel like you’ve had enough. If it’s only physical, you’ll get bored eventually and you can call this off. But if you feel like you’re really in love with him after that, then yeah, go date him for real.”

Feeling lightheaded, you massage the side of your temple. “What about that thing—him being famous and all. I just know dating him would be so stressful with all these girls chasing after him.”

“Just cross the bridge when you get there,” Porco assures you. “Don’t think about it too much.”

“Men always say that,” you pout.

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re impulsive.”

“No, ‘cause you all think with your dicks,” Pieck spits back before she returns her attention to you. “Listen, honey. There are two options you can choose here: just keep doing what you want to do until you both find the courage to take a step further, or try and date someone else.”

“How is dating someone else gonna fix my problem?”

“First, it can help make sure of your feelings for him. Second, it can help him put some action to his feelings. He’ll get jealous. He’s not gonna want to share you with anyone else and maybe then, he’ll tell you how he truly feels about you.”

“Then what?” It’s actually Porco who’s asking the question for you, his curiosity arising.

“Then you get married,” Pieck ends the topic. “Fuck like bunnies and have hundreds of babies. Repopulate the earth with those good-looking Jaeger genes.”

Porco looks like he’s judging her so much for her words but when he turns to you, he simply agrees with a nod. “Well, there you go,” he mutters blankly, “Fuck like bunnies and repopulate the earth.”

“Oh Lord,” you mutter, mentally drained. It feels like their words make sense, but at the same time, they don’t. Knowing you’re not ready for the second option just yet, you try to go with the flow, sticking to the first option for now. “Yeah, okay… I’ll try.”

If it’s just a crush—if these things you’re feeling for him are just strictly physical, then maybe you just have to give it some time. Maybe in a month or two, you’ll get bored of him —maybe he will get bored of you—and you can go back to being friends, no harm done.

Maybe is the word you need to emphasize here.

***

Eren has given you a backstage pass for tonight’s show. He’s having a charity concert in your hometown and he’s spent these last few days practicing in his studio with his bandmates. Though you still keep in contact with him through texts and calls, you haven’t seen him in almost a week. And that’s probably the reason why you’re utterly excited to attend his concert—though you keep lying to yourself by saying that you’re not excited because you're going to see him; you’re excited because you’re going to see him play, which is a huge difference.

You’ve invited Pieck Finger with you—since you have been troubling her with this friends-with-benefits thing and you owe her at least this much. You asked Porco to tag along during lunch but he declined the offer, saying that he had a date with ‘the cute girl from the third floor.’ Surprisingly enough, you caught the way Pieck was boring holes into his back as he walked away, her cheeks puffed out in, what you’d like to assume as jealousy. Which worries you because if Pieck, the I’m-in-love-with-Zeke-Fritz Pieck, has also started to catch feelings, then what will happen to you who hasn’t had anyone else in your heart for so long?

You shake your head, pushing away your thoughts. Tonight, let’s just focus on having fun.

You greet her with a hug when the two of you meet in front of the venue, but once you see what she’s wearing, you can’t help but gawk at her appearance. “Why are you wearing—” You can’t even tell what she’s wearing. “What are you wearing?”

Well, she’s wearing a black dress—one that is so short, you’re sure you can get a glimpse of her underwear if she bends down. If she’s wearing any, that is (you don’t want to check, God, no). Its stretch, figure-hugging fabric is perfectly designed to show off her curves and she looks absolutely fantastic in it. Feeling your confidence waver, you begin to examine your own outfit, slightly pouting once you realize that you’re just putting on some jeans, a pair of old sneakers, and a black shirt underneath a denim jacket.

“It’s a bodycon mini dress.” She looks you up and down, looking even more baffled than you were when you first saw her. “What are you wearing?”

“I’m wearing something that normal people would wear. Why are you wearing a bodycon mini dress to a rock concert?”

“‘Cause we’ll be meeting hot guys?”

“Pieck, we’re here to enjoy some music.”

“Well, I’m here to enjoy some cocks.”

“Jesus.” It’s been two minutes and she’s already giving you a headache. “Let’s just—let’s just go.”

Once you’ve shown your backstage pass to a male staff—who looks pretty cute with freckles on his face—you’re taken straight to Empire’s dressing room with him saying, “Mr. Jaeger has been waiting for you.”

Pieck, showcasing a nasty grin, elbows you lightly as you both follow his lead. “Mr. Jaeger has been waiting for you, he said.”

“Shut up.”

“I bet my whole wallet that you two are gonna fuck before he goes on stage tonight.”

You’re so flustered, you almost choke on your words. “Is sex all you can think about?!”

“Take the bet, then.”

“I’m not gonna take any bet.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you know you’ll lose.”

“No, ‘cause it’s a stupid bet. Now, shut up,” you hiss once the staff drags open the door and welcome you to the dressing room. Your gaze immediately finds Eren talking to Reiner as they sit next to each other on the couch, his eyebrows furrowed as they’re discussing something important regarding their performance. At the sound of your footsteps, Eren lifts his face and you can quite literally see how much his eyes light up at your presence.

“Oh, you’re here!” He hastily stands up, half-running to your spot before he scoops you up in his arms. With a grin and a suppressed giggle, he embraces you so tightly around the waist, your feet leaving the ground for a second before they land back. For a moment, there’s only you, and him, and your heart racing a thousand miles per hour. It’s until Eren breaks away, kisses you lightly on the cheek, and tosses a smile to the staff that you fall back to reality. “Thanks for bringing her in, Marco.”

“Always a pleasure to help, Mr. Jaeger.” Marco gives a polite nod before he turns around and marches back to where he came from.

When Eren shifts his focus back to you, his smile turns softer, almost delicate. “Thanks for coming. You’re a bit early than I thought.”

“I—uhh—” You’re a bit appalled by the way he greeted you a moment ago, blushing even harder when you notice Pieck sniggering in the background. “Yeah. I didn’t want to be late for the show.”

You’ve noticed that ever since that talk you had about you being afraid to fall for him and he challenged you to do exactly that, Eren becomes more… aggressive. Not in the way he kisses or anything sexual, but in the way he showers you with affection. It’s like he’s really trying to make you fall for him—or maybe he’s just doing the same thing but you’re more emotional these days? Maybe you’re reading too much between the lines?

Eren looks so effortlessly handsome as he chews on his mint bubblegum, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches makes it hard for you to stop staring at how perfectly structured his face is—sharp jawlines, sharp nose, long and thick eyelashes, soft, plump lips—

Okay, get a hold of yourself. You swallow, your eyes still wandering up and down his body for another second before you glance away. He’s wearing a fitted black tee that hugs his chest perfectly, his silver key-shaped pendant dangling right above his heart. His hair is tied up in a bun like usual but it’s stylishly messy. You’re sure that his hairstylist must have spent a good hour trying to style his hair looking like that.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, voice thick with seduction once he notices your ogling eyes.

“It’s, uh…” You can’t meet his gaze. “You look different.”

“Like, a good different?”

“Just… different.” You’re so fucking terrible at masking your blush—so transparent, it’s ridiculous.

But to his eyes, you just look nothing but adorable. Every little thing that you do is goddamn adorable. Can’t hold back his urge to tease you, he leans in closer to your ear. “You look different too,” he whispers. “A good different.”

“Shut up.” You shove him away by the chest and he simply chuckles in return.

“You smell amazing, by the way,” he notes. “New perfume?”

You’re beginning to feel self-conscious, your heart thrashing wildly. “Y-yeah.”

He hums, lightly biting his lip as he looks at you with his eyes gleaming in desire. Something about it makes your body tingle and you mentally slap yourself to tell you to focus. “I—I brought a friend with me,” you hurriedly mention before he makes another comment that drives you wild.

“Finally,” Pieck jeers, “Thought I had to wait for another year to pass before you noticed me.” She turns to Eren, offering her hand like how a queen would do to her knight so he could lay a kiss on her knuckles. “Pieck Finger, pleasure to meet you.”

The musician only frowns, a judging look fleets through his face for a split second before he takes her hand, giving her a firm handshake instead. “Eren Jaeger,” he says, unimpressed and somehow you can feel yourself breathing in relief. You don’t want to admit this, but you were worried that he would show interest in her, especially when she looks like sex on legs this evening.

Eren cocks his head to the three people behind him. “That’s Jean and Reiner on the couch. The one that's talking on the phone over there is our manager, Levi.”

“Hey, boys,” Pieck waves her hand, sultry smile accompanied by fluttering eyelashes.

Jean, as expected, stands up and easily slides into the conversation. “Well, well, well.” He lands a hand against the doorframe, walking into Pieck’s personal space like he belongs in it. “To have a visit from such a pretty lady like you,” he coos, one corner of his mouth tilting upward. “Must be my lucky night.”

“I’m such a huge fan of yours,” Pieck flirts and you almost snort. She’s not a fan. She’s never been a fan and she’s never going to be a fan. She listens to either Ariana Grande or Cardi B on daily basis, there’s no in-between. Not once in your life have you ever seen her listening to rock music—especially something as heavy as what Empire offers to the crowd.

“Hey,” Eren’s voice draws your attention back to him, which is good because if you spend any longer than that listening to their flirtatious conversations, you’re sure you’re going to throw up on your shoes. “We got a pretty sick band as our opening act. You wanna take a look? I think they’re about to play.”

“Oh my God, yes!” It’s like someone just injects a dose of adrenaline into your veins and suddenly you can’t keep still. “I saw the poster—it’s Zenith, right? I love them!”

Hearing that, the grin on his face promptly falters. “You love them?”

“Yeah. Their frontman—Floch Forster—looks pretty cool. Sounds amazing, too.”

“Actually,” Eren diverts the topic, growing bitter. “Why don’t I just show you around—”

“Wait—” You can hear the sound of the crowd suddenly cheering so loudly from the stage area. Followed right after is the sound of an electric guitar being strummed and your eyes widen in realization. “Oh my God, they’re playing Parasite Eve! Eren—“ you grab him by the shirt, “Let’s go to the stage!”

His interest has long disappeared. “Yeah, no, I think I’m gonna stay.”

“What?!” Floch Forster’s distinctive voice is now echoing through the venue, resonating to your ears. “Eren, come on—“

“You brats are being too loud,” Levi interrupts and you immediately step aside in horror until you have your spine pressed against the wall. The older male catches your eyes, boredom written in his ash-grey ones. “Oh, it’s you again.”

“H-hello, Mr. Ackerman.” Not sure why, but you find him very intimidating. He doesn’t seem like he’s elated by your presence either, though he never comments on it. Or maybe he just glares at everyone? “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice I was being too loud. Eren was about to take me to the stage to see the band and—“

“Good,” Levi says, “I was about to ask you to do the same thing.” He turns to face the rest of the band members. “All of you, wait backstage. You still have forty-five minutes before showtime, might as well take a look at their performance. You’re their senior, be supportive and give them some feedback.”

Reiner nods, while Jean is too busy whispering, you assume, filthy things in Pieck’s ear whenever Levi’s gaze drifts somewhere else.

Eren groans, complaining, “Why don’t you give them your feedback?”

“I thought you were excited to have them as your opening act.” Levi raises a questioning brow. “Aren’t you friends with Forster?”

He tightens his jaw. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Great. Now, off you go, all of you.” At Levi’s order, they exit the dressing room one by one. Levi leads at the front, Reiner trailing close after him. Jean follows right after with his arm around Pieck’s shoulders, brushing his lips against her strands as he whispers provocative words to her ear.

“You okay?” You ask him, eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Why do you look pissed?”

“I’m not pissed,” Eren retorts in a way that indicates that yes, he is pissed. “So,” he crosses his arms on his chest, leaning against the doorframe. “Floch Forster. Is he your idol or something?”

“Ah…” The second you realize what’s going on with him, an impish grin breaks upon your lips. “I know what’s going on. You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Wha—” He chokes, his face aflame. “I’m not jealous—why would I be jealous? Jealous of what? Of who?”

Oh my God, he’s rambling. You’re about to break into laughter but before you do, you take a grab of his hand. “Eren, listen—“ A staff walks past you, crossing the hallway and it’s not wise for you to show intimacy in a public space. Needing some privacy, you push him back into the dressing room just enough to get out of everyone’s sight, and cup both of his cheeks with your palms.

You stand on your tiptoes and brush your lips against his. Eren has his eyes opened in surprise but the kiss ends before he can shut his lids and explore the taste of your mouth. The blush spreads from his neck to his cheekbones and it makes you think that, maybe, he’s just as transparent as you are.

“You’re adorable,” you tell him and his blush blooms even harder, painting his ears scarlet.

“Stop calling a grown-ass man ‘adorable’, it’s gross,” he timidly responses with a pout and it makes you giggle as you find him a million times more endearing.

“Okay, you big baby, listen to me,” you grab his right hand, squeezing it between yours. “You’re the only artist that I truly admire, okay? I admire you for your talent. I admire you for your performance on stage. I admire the songs that you wrote and the music that you created. No one can ever come close. You hear me? No one. Not even Celine fucking Dion can beat you. That’s how much I admire you, Eren Jaeger of Empire.” You smile at him, scrunching your nose cutely. “So stop being jealous of Floch. He’s good, he has talent, but he’s never going to be as good as you. At least, not in my eyes.”

Eren is so flustered, his ears are buzzing. He’s not sure if he’s hearing you right. He’s doing nothing but standing still, lost for words until you intertwine your hand with his and tug him forward. “Now come on,” you urge him, “They just finished their first song. I’m not gonna forgive you if you make me miss the next one.”

He lets you lead him closer to the stage, following in silence as he’s too busy drowning in his thoughts to retaliate. You’re getting it all wrong, he wants to say, because Eren is not jealous of Floch’s talent. He’s jealous that he’s getting a sliver of your attention. Eren wants all of that for himself. Wants your eyes to never look at anyone else. Wants your heart to never admire anyone else.

I want all of you for myself, he thinks as he watches your eyes shine radiantly when you observe Zenith’s performance from the side of the stage. And I want to give everything that I have—everything that I am—to you.

The demon inside him replies, reminding him that even just that, it’s too much to ask for. Especially, for someone like him. But he’s made up his mind. He wants to change. He wants to be able to love and wants to be loved. He deserves it. I deserve it.

“Why can’t you just say you love me already?”

“What?” You ask him, shouting over the heavy sound of drums. “Did you say something?”

Eren smiles, tucking his hands in the pocket of his jeans. “I said, your gawking face looks stupid!”

***

“Where’s Kirstein?” Levi, who left the stage a moment ago to take yet another call, questions as he walks closer to where you and Eren are standing. “And where’s Braun? Did he have a stomachache again?”

“I saw Jean going somewhere,” Marco answers before he politely gestures his hand toward you. “With her friend—the one with the long, black hair, and Reiner left to get him. That was five minutes ago.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you goddamn cock-sucking brats,” Levi spits back and you freeze, gaping as you have never heard someone curse so easily and naturally like that. “I left for ten minutes to make a call. Ten. Fucking. Minutes. And you’re all gone.”

“I’m still here,” Eren chimes in.

“Yeah, you better be,” the shorter male isn’t thankful in the slightest. “I’m gonna look for them. Stay here, Jaeger. If I see you move a muscle, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” And Levi stomps away with his iPad in one hand, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“That’s probably the tenth time he has threatened me today,” Eren sighs but seems mostly unfazed. “Not really a positive environment to work in.”

With a tiny amused smile, you bump your shoulder against his. “Seems like you’re the good boy in your little boyband.”

“Well…” The music starts again with Zenith playing their fourth song that night. Eren bends down to vocalize his line directly into your ear so you won’t miss a word. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you for a while, actually.”

You quickly take a step back, covering your ear like he’s the devil speaking temptations to make you sin. Which, in a way, he is. He casts you a dirty smirk, tilting his head as he wiggles an eyebrow seductively.

Fuck. He is the devil. “How much time do we get until you have to go on stage?”

“Twenty. Probably less.”

“We don’t have time.”

“We do. I can make you come in ten.”

“Jesus.” Your face is burning. Not wanting to waste any more seconds, you quickly mutter, “Fine, okay. Hurry up.”

Eren’s grin breaks wider. “Hey, Marco!”

Marco—oh sweet, sweet poor Marco—who’s in deep discussion with the technical team, scurries back to your spot. “Yes, Mr. Jaeger?”

“Be a good boy and cover up for me, yeah?” Eren lands a hand on his shoulder. “I left something in the dressing room.”

“Oh, I can get it for you.”

“Nah, there’s no need.” Eren cocks his head in your direction. “She’s gonna do it for me.”

Lord, just kill me. You bury your face in your palms, would rather be dead than to meet Marco’s innocent chocolate brown eyes once he understands Eren’s not-so-pure intention.

“Oh…” As Marco’s vocabulary turns blank, Eren wraps an arm around your shoulder, leading you back to where you were twenty minutes ago.

***

Your head knocks against the door as Eren pushes you up against it, locking you both inside the unoccupied dressing room. You’re trapped in his messy kiss, all rough and demanding that you have to hold on to the collar of his shirt for support. When he breaks away to paint kisses down your neck, your lipstick smears to your cheek, lips glistening with saliva and bruised by his teeth.

“Eren—” You’re rocking yourself against his knee the second he slides it between your thighs. “We don’t have much time.”

“I know.” His hands move down to your shirt, tugging the fabric roughly to the side to reveal more of your skin.

“Hey, careful!” You scold him, glowering. “You nearly ripped out my buttons!”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” His mouth moves lower, now trailing wet kisses to the valley between your breasts. His hands are working on your jeans, while yours are busy working on his belt.

“That’s not the prob—ah,” Yanking your bra down just enough to reveal your soft mounds, Eren’s mouth clamp around your nipple, sucking at it as a moan escapes from the back of his throat, caressing your skin with vibration. “Eren, just hurry up, please—”

“I need to get you wet first.” He pushes your jeans down to your mid-thigh, his hand sliding underneath your lingerie. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my darling,” he jokes but the second he touches you, his lean fingers gliding over your folds, his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Whoa, already?”

Flushed, you can only mutter back, “Shut up,” through gritted teeth.

But Eren’s never going to let go just like this. It’s the perfect opportunity to tease you, to make you blush even harder, to make you beg for his touches. His tiny smirk is as obscene as what his hand is doing to you. He presses harder, the pads of his index and middle fingers toying with your clit before he moves them down to probe against your entrance. “Can’t believe you’re this wet for me already,” he chuckles, “Have you been thinking about this too, Sweetheart? Want me to fuck you in my dressing room like this?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” You knock your tiny fists multiple times against his chest, emphasizing each word, but that only entertains him more. Eren shifts his hand to your behind, squeezing your ass as he brings you closer to him. You push forward by instinct, grinding your hips against his until he groans in response, teeth prickling against the supple skin of your neck.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he comments, sounding like he’s intoxicated by your perfume before he turns impish once again. “Did you wear this to rile me up?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes widen when you hear the word out loud. You didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to be honest with him but your thoughts were so jumbled, you couldn’t filter your words. “I mean—”

“Ah, you’re so goddamn cute.” He crushes your mouths together, his tongue sliding in to taste the inside of your cheek again.

Your hands naturally wind around his neck, your nails scratching his nape. Your irritation is washed away, replaced by your need to have him inside you. “Eren—”

“One second.” He goes down to his knees, pushing up the fabric of your shirt to your stomach. “Hold it there.”

You follow his order, chewing on your lip as he applies wet kisses on your inner thigh, moving upward until his breath, hot and dangerous, caresses your sensitive skin. He spreads your legs as wide as he can with the restrictive jeans around your knees. “Next time,” he growls, a bit irritated with the piece of clothing getting in the way. “Wear a skirt.”

“Eren, you don’t have to do this—“ His mouth finds your heat, and you nearly collapse from the sensation because Eren doesn’t start slow, not like usual. He doesn’t start with his tongue licking the outside of your folds, he doesn’t start with tiny kitten licks, doesn’t move his tongue in slow circles that could make your breath stutter and your eyes cross. He starts with hot, open-mouthed kisses against your sex before he rushes to suck on your clit, pushing the tip of his nose against your skin. “Fuck, fuck—” You can feel your body sliding down the door as your legs start to quiver.

Fortunately for you, Eren is holding you firmly by the thighs, lowering you down to his face as he darts out his tongue, running it up and down from your clit to your entrance. He watches your expression, not because he wants to get confirmation whether he’s doing something right. Eren already knows what he’s doing; he simply watches you because he loves it. You’re the prettiest when you’re like this, he always thinks, rosy cheeks with eyes looking like they're about to tear up from drowning too deep in pleasure.

“I just love the way you taste,” he says, breathing heavily through his nose as he moans. “You’re my favorite flavor in the world, baby.”

You nearly sob, eyes closed as you surrender yourself to him. You don’t have the strength to worry about the time anymore. Everything about his goddamn, filthy mouth—the way it moves against your skin, the way it clamps around your clit, the dirty words that break free from it—everything makes you weak, makes your brain turn into a mush that you can barely focus on your surrounding anymore.

Maybe you’re turned on by the fact that you’re in a public space and you’re running out of time before someone comes knocking against the door, telling you that they need Eren on the stage. Or maybe you just like being handled so roughly like him like this, but whatever the reason is, you’re so aroused, so desperately need to reach your high that you feel like you’re about to cry.

Eren would love to spend hours just pleasuring you like this but there are hundreds of people chanting his name on the other side of the stage. Zenith must have gone down the stage and now the technical team is doing the final check before Empire takes the spot. Time is limited and it’s wiser to stop before you take a further step but with you begging for a release like this?

There’s no way he’s going to let you go.

Eren stands back on his feet and spins you around, driving you forward until your body is plastered against the door. He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to him. He lets his jeans pool around his knees, spitting into his palm and promptly lathering his cock with saliva before he pushes in from behind. The friction stings but the feeling of Eren’s lips moving between your shoulder blades soothe you down. He’s only halfway in when someone knocks on the door.

Fuck, you panic but Eren slaps a hand over your mouth, keeping you still.

“Who is it?” He asks.

“I-it’s Marco.” Just by his tone, you can tell he’s blushing. “Mr. Jaeger, I’m sorry to bother you but you’re up in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” Eren smirks, his hand moving away from your mouth to settle at the dip of your waist. “I’ll be there in ten minutes, Marco.” He pushes in, sending you forward until your palms, chest, and cheek are pressed flat against the door. “You have my words.”

“O-okay,” Marco says, completely clueless that just on the other side of the door he’s laying his knuckles against is his idol, Eren Jaeger of Empire, having his cock buried deep inside you. “Well, then, uh, I’ll head back to the stage.”

“No,” Eren stops him. “Stay where you are.”

Are you insane?! You glare menacingly at him, growling behind his palm. Eren answers by slamming his hips once against yours, turning that growl into a suppressed moan. “You’re on the lookout,” he tells him. “I’m kinda… busy at the moment.” He pounds into you again, chuckling as he sticks two fingers inside your mouth, watching the saliva dribbles down your chin. “Make sure no one comes to interrupt, Marco, can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Perfect.” Eren retracts his fingers, smearing saliva all over your skin before he slithers his hand around your throat. He lifts your face, his fingers curling a little bit too tight around your neck, and pushes you up against the door. His chest fills the dip of your spine, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “You can be loud if you want,” he murmurs, “No one can hear you with the crowd cheering like that.”

“But—” The feeling of his fingers smothering you little by little as he thrusts mercilessly inside nearly causes you to lost all common sense. “But Marco is—”

“It’s okay if he hears us.” He starts sucking marks on your neck. “He already knows we’re fucking, anyway.” His next thrust sends you forward until you have to lay both hands on the door to keep your head from bumping against it. “Actually, be loud, baby,” he adds, tittering when he feels your walls fluttering around him. “‘Cause I love hearing your fucking moans.” His voice is velvety, thick with lust and seduction. “Especially when they’re in the form of my name.”

You’re not sure which drives you more insane, his smirk pressing against the shell of your ear as he says those salacious words or the way he mercilessly rams himself into you. Either way, you don’t care because Eren is doing both at the same time and he’s doing everything so good.

“Fuck,” you hiss under your breath. “Eren—you’re so deep—“

His hand moves up to your breast, squeezing it tightly with his palm. “Does it hurt?”

You nip at your lip, head hanging low as you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure. “No, it feels good—ah—”

“Yeah?” He straightens his back, settling his hands on the curve of your hips. “Then I won’t hold back.”

He was holding back?! You shout in your head and the next second, you find your answer. Eren feels like a different man, the way he’s slamming himself into you. He lets his cock slide almost all the way out of your core, only to slip back in, filling you up until you have to stand on your tiptoes. His thrusts are fast and powerful, his hands holding you so firmly by the hips, you’re sure they’re gonna leave nasty bruises by tomorrow.

Jae-ger! Jae-ger! Jae-ger!

“T-they’re calling your name,” you sob out, your knees wobbling underneath your weight.

“Yeah,” he grunts, leaning forward to sink his teeth at your clothed shoulder. “But I’d rather have you scream mine instead.”

You’re being driven to the edge, can already feel your orgasm closing in before he flips you around, harshly pull on your jeans until he can toss them away on the floor. He smashes his mouth against yours again as he slides his hands down to your legs. “Hold on to me,” he says and you obey, letting him haul both of your legs in the air, lifting you off the ground. His cock is standing hard enough to find its way back into you without having to use his hand, and you reciprocate with another whimper of his name when you feel him throbbing inside you once more. Knowing he’s strong enough to carry your entire weight, you wind your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Eren settles his hands underneath your thighs for support as you lean your spine against the door.

“Eren, fuck—“ The new position hits a certain angle and every movement of his hips causes your clit to graze against his pelvis. You know you’re about to sprout incoherent noises so you let his tongue invade your mouth again, focusing on the way he tastes—how perfect he tastes—instead of the way he’s fucking you up against the door.

Your hands naturally find home in his hair, but Eren stops you. “Wait, don’t mess up my hair.”

“Oh, right—“ you retract your hand almost instantly, “Sorry.”

“You know what, fuck that,” he growls, “Just do it.” He suckles on your lower lip, making it swollen. “I know how much you like it.”

You take the opportunity, tugging harshly on the roots of his hair until he moans, messing up his bun.

“What, do you have like, a hair kink or something?” Eren titters. “You’re squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“I just think you’re really hot with your man-bun.” You moan with your head thrown back as he hits your favorite spot. “But—then again—I always find you attractive—”

“And you said you only cared about my music.” But despite his teasing, Eren is losing his mind, his sanity deteriorating little by little with every rock of your hips against him. How the fuck can she feel this good, he ponders, as he drowns deeper in the feel, the smell, and the sound of you. He lands you back to the ground while keeping one of your legs raised in the air for him to gain better access. His face is buried in the crook of your neck when he continues asking, “What other parts of me do you find to be hot?”

“Your abs,” you breathe out, sliding one hand inside of his shirt and raking your nails against his abdomens. “Your arms.” Your other hand grips harder around his upper arm, sinking your nails until he flinches in both pain and arousal. “Your lips.” You tug his bottom lip between your teeth, tongue sliding against the surface. But you know the one thing he wants to hear so with a seductive smile, you break off the kiss and whisper in his ear, “Your cock.”

Eren struggles to keep himself sane when you tease him by clenching your walls around him. His thrust is going out of rhythm but he tries to keep his voice nonchalant. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.” You moan softly, kissing the side of his neck. “You’re so… big.” You take his earlobe between your teeth. “I love the way you move inside me. Love the way you fuck me with that cock.”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, kissing you roughly as his movements turn erratic. You giggle, satisfied at his reaction and you let him do as he pleases for a few seconds more before you pull him close, hazy eyes staring deep into his when you add, “But your eyes. Your eyes are what I love the most about you.�� And you no longer sound seductive. Your voice turns soft, your words speak honesty. “You have the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen in my life.”

And Eren stops everything when you kiss him just as tender, even his own breathing. He doesn’t want to let your praise get into his head, but it’s too late. Joy creeps up from his chest, turning into a flush once it reaches his face. He doesn’t want himself to turn into a blushing mess over a compliment like that but he doesn’t know what else to do besides slanting his lips back to yours with vigor, his hips moving once again as he mumbles out, “Thanks. I need them to see.”

You yank on his hair until he groans. “Way to ruin the moment, asshole.”

“Oh, we’re having a moment?” He chortles. “Sorry, I wasn’t aware. Too busy fucking you.”

“Yeah, less talking. Go harder.”

The sound of people chanting his name is getting louder, muffling the sound of your skin meeting his and you can’t help but laugh a little, “If only they knew what you’re doing right now. They’ll be terribly disappointed.”

“I doubt it.” He’s a little bit out of breath but he’s nowhere near finished. “Band members fuck their groupies all the time. It’s nothing new.”

“Am I your groupie?”

“Well, you’re a fan of my music.” His hand lands on your chest, flicking his thumb over your nipple. “And you’ll do anything I ask you, isn’t that right, Sweetheart?”

“You’re disgusting,” you say, though you can’t stop yourself from mirroring his smirk. There’s something so hot and satisfying about the fact that there are hundreds of girls screaming his name on the other side of the stage, begging to be in your position and you’re here, tasting the roof of his mouth with him begging to come inside you.

“How does it feel, baby,” Eren asks, his mouth panting words on your jawline. “To have Eren Jaeger of Empire fucking you like this?”

“So fucking good.” You can’t even lie and admitting it only makes the knots tightened inside your stomach. “Eren—go harder, please—” He does and your jaw hangs low, eyebrows furrowing as you clutch onto his shoulders. It only takes a few more thrusts in that pace and angle before you come hard, biting into your fist to muffle your moan. You’re clenching around him, making him hiss in sensation.

“Fuck, baby, did you just come?” He asks, sounding both surprised and amused. He can feel your body shaking as he stops to hold you close. “No shit, ten minutes? That must be some kind of record.”

If you weren’t too tired and washed away by your orgasm to care, you would’ve blushed madly over his words. “Shut up, and just come already.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” His next thrust knocks the air out of your lungs and you secure your hold around him. His hair is a mess, his face hidden in your neck as you tangled your legs around his waist. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby—”

Right at that moment, you hear a voice from the other side of the door. “Bodt, where the fuck is Jaeger?!”

“Shit,” your eyes widening in fear. “That’s Levi—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eren says, already feeling so close to the edge.

“I can’t not worry about it, your manager is here—”

“Mr. Ackerman, if you can just wait one minute, please.” You can hear Marco pleading for your sake. “He’s, uh, he’s not alone in there.”

Oh my God, we are so dead. “Eren, stop, we gotta—“

“You’re tightening around me.” Eren moans between chuckles, “Goddamn, baby, is this another kink of yours? You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

Maybe he’s right, or maybe you’re reacting this way because of how sexy he sounded when he called you a dirty girl. As he usually praises you with loving words, it lights a fire in your stomach when he teases you like this.

“Is he having sex?!” You can hear Levi shouting. “Is he fucking over there?!”

Jesus— You push him away by the shoulders, panicking. “Eren, let me go—“

“But I haven’t come,” he mewls, hips moving frantically as he lays one hand on your face, holding you firmly by the cheek. “Please, baby,” Eren says with his eyes—those beautiful green eyes you said you loved—pleading. “I want to come.”

“Fuck—” You push him as hard as you can until he stumbles on his feet and you go down to your knees. You curl your fingers around him, tight but not too tight, just the way he likes it. “Come in my mouth,” you tell him as his eyes widen in surprise and before he can say anything else, you take him fully into your mouth.

“Shit!” His jaw hangs slack on his face, breathing hard as he watches you hollow your cheeks around him. “Oh my God, baby—”

You hum, sending vibrations and goosebumps all over his skin as you grab the back of his thighs, bringing him as deep as you can take into your mouth. You have your tongue pressing flat against the underside of his cock, sucking him off hard. Eren flinches, grabbing a handful of your hair, his head hanging low. “Fuck, fuck, since when did you get to be so good—” He’s panting heavily, chest rising up and down. “Baby, I want to fuck your mouth.” It’s not a statement of warning, he’s asking for permission. You can hear Levi pounding his fist against the door, shouting Eren’s name. Panicking, you quickly nod, “Yeah, anything—just come—”

Eren doesn’t waste a second longer. He lays one hand on the door, another one holding the back of your skull and he pushes his hips forward until he hits the back of your throat. You choke, your throat feels like burning. “Open your mouth,” he begs and when you loosen your jaw, he adds, “Wider.”

It’s harsh and rough and you wonder whether this is the reason why he kept declining your offer to go down on him before. Eren knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back the moment he got to taste the warmth of your mouth. The way your eyes turn glassy as you look up at him with his cock buried deep, your nose is pressing against his pelvis—you look so goddamn lewd, so indecent and he loves it. Loves the fact that he’s corrupting you, loves the way you’re turning into this mess because of him.

I’m disgusting, he admits, wetting his lip once as he devours the sight of you tearing up on your knees. Such a horrible person for loving this but I can’t stop. “Your mouth feels so fucking good—"

And he comes. He comes with his hips stuttering. He comes with his hand tightening its hold around your strands, pushing your head down on him so you can take everything inside your mouth. He comes with a breathless moan of your name, with his cheeks flushed, and his head thrown back in pleasure. “Goddamn, baby…”

You wait for him to finish, breathing heavily through your nose. You can taste him on your tongue, thick and hot and foreign. Once he pulls away, Eren gently cradles your face, tilting it upward to meet his eyes. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he praises with half-lidded eyes. Your lipstick is ruined, your lips bruised and swollen and Eren runs his thumb over them before he presses it against your bottom lip, forcing you to open your mouth. His come drips down your chin, staining his finger while you swallow the rest of it. “I’m gonna think of you,” he whispers, eyes dazed as he smirks, “Looking just like this as I go on stage.”

***

Empire is ten minutes behind schedule and with the way Levi is scowling at you, you’re sure that this is gonna be the last time you’ll ever get invited backstage. “I’m sorry,” you keep bowing your head at him as Marco assists Eren, Jean, and Reiner with their in-ear monitors.

Levi exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop his headache. “I know half of this isn’t your fault,” he says, cold as usual but without any malice in his voice. “These shitty brats just love fucking with my patience.”

“Still, I should’ve—”

“Yes, you should’ve,” he firmly scolds you and you fidget on your feet. “Be grateful that you don’t work for me, ‘cause if you did, I’m gonna have you fired within seconds.”

“I’m…” you bow your head lower. “I’m sorry.”

Levi takes another glance, appearing to be deep in thoughts before he sighs and lands a hand on your shoulder. “But I guess, I should thank you.” Seeing you frown, he elaborates. “Not for doing the shit you just did, mind you. But for making him… Well, the way he is now.” He cocks his head to where Eren is standing. “He’s been looking much more alive ever since he came back from the tour, and I know that it has something to do with you.” You keep yourself silent and your heartrate steady. “I was worried about him before,” Levi continues, and to your surprise, a tiny smile—so faint and light—emerges on his thin lips. “But, I guess, now you’re here, I don’t have to anymore.”

He walks away, leaving you frozen and appalled. You watch him with adoring eyes, thinking, Nah, he’s not so mean, after all.

***

“Reiner, you okay?” Eren asks, waiting at the side of the stage as his hairstylist fixes his hair in a hurry (and it’s all your fault). “You look kinda pale.”

“He’s fine,” Jean answers on his behalf, casually draping his arm around Reiner’s shoulders. “We’re feeling fine, aren’t we, Reiner?”

Reiner buries his face in his hands, mumbling, “Lord Jesus, please forgive me for my sins.”

Eren casts them a judging look. “Did you two fuck?”

“Yes, we fucked,” Jean answers proudly before he realizes his words. “I mean, not us fucking each other—eww, what is wrong with you?” He sticks out his tongue while Eren rolls his eyes. “But yeah, you know that girl, Pieck?”

“Oh my God, Pieck, at the same time?!” You, standing a couple of meters away behind the boys, clueless to their conversation, scream at your friend’s atrocious confession.

“What?” She shrugs, completely unfazed. “I have enough holes to cover them both. Even one more hole to spare, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh my God, don’t talk to me.”

“What about you?” Pieck says, displaying a nasty grin. “You look like you just got fucked real nice too.”

“Shut up.”

“Did you get to choke on his dick?”

“Oh my God—” Fortunately for you, Eren diverts your attention by tugging you gently by the wrist. He already has his bass hanging on his shoulder, the silver piercing in his ear glinting under the light.

“Hey,” he says, smiling a bit sheepishly despite the dirty deed you two had done a few minutes ago. “I’m about to go on stage. Wish me luck?”

“I don’t think you need it.” You mirror his smile, somehow just as abashed. “But good luck.” Eren dips his head down to catch your lips between his, startling you and you can hear Pieck quietly gasps, “Oh my.”

“Jaeger, for fuck’s sake!” Levi shouts as Reiner and Jean walk down the stage. “Get your ass back here now!”

Eren cuts his kiss short—thank God, because you don’t know if you can handle your racing heart any further than that. He lands a hand on your head, bending down until his eyes are on the same level as yours. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He beams. “And listen to every word I sing.”

You gulp. “Y-yeah.”

“Good.” He ruffles your hair once before he runs back to where he came, heading straight to the stage. The crowd roars, screaming their names and you can see through the LED screen how Eren smiles brilliantly. He lands his hands on his bass, and with Reiner’s count, Empire kicks off the show with their intro.

“He’s so in love with you,” Pieck says as you watch their performance from the side, staring in awe with your lips slightly parted. “It’s cute but, also, kinda gross.”

And you don’t respond, don’t care enough to do it. Not when Eren shines radiantly like this. Their intro contains only music, but even then, the way they completely take over the audience is impressive. The crushingly heavy, obscenely loud noise that rolls from Eren’s bass, striding forward in tandem with Reiner’s thunderous drumming. Jean’s guitar solo in the middle of the song is fresh and clean, painting a new color to their sound. The notion of a three-piece sounding huge didn’t seem plausible, but it really is. Empire sounds massive, enough to rival any other band. And Eren is the one who holds the crowds inside their palms.

He’s so focused, so energetic, so captivating as he delivers a fiery riff from his growling Fender Jaguar Bass. He casts a mix between a smirk and a smile in Jean’s direction before he goes harder on his instrument. Seeing him from the side of the stage is unsatisfying. You want to see him from among the crowds, like how you did when you first saw him again in college.

“It sucks seeing them play from here, doesn’t it?” Marco says, standing right next to you.

“Yeah,” you admit. You want to see his face with your own eyes, not through the LED screen that flashes behind him.

“Then, let’s go.” Marco cocks his head, grinning. You know what he’s planning to do, and with your eyes lighting up in excitement, you follow him without hesitation in your steps.

“Hey!” Pieck calls. “Where are you going?!”

You toss a look over your shoulder as you run. “To see the show!”

***

There’s a rail and some space between the audience and the stage for security reasons, with a few bodyguards and staff standing on guard to keep the crowd in control. Marco has kindly lent you a similar shirt that the other staff wear to stop you from sticking out like a sore thumb among the crew. He guides you as close as possible to the arena until you find yourself standing in the space that separates the stage and the audience. The crowds are pushing against the railing behind you, their hands raised in the air, heads bobbing to Empire’s alternative rock music. You can see Eren clearly now, can see how the lights fall perfectly on his face. There’s nothing else between you and him and once he’s finished with the intro, he immediately starts with the second song without a break. And it’s a song that he showed you in the studio. The song titled ‘Hero/Heroine’, the one song that, unbeknownst to you, he created for you on the day you two finally became one.

(Click here if you want to listen to Eren's music while you read)

Eren walks close to his standing microphone, his lips nearly brushing against it as he sings. “It's too late, baby, there's no turning around. I've got my hands in my pocket and my head in a cloud.” His eyes scan the crowd like how they usually do, and they land on yours—almost in the exact way like how they were during his performance on the day you were reunited. But this time, he’s not surprised. He doesn’t panic. He smiles, and it’s so soft, so sweet, it almost feels like he’s breaking out of character—of this persona he displays on stage. “This is how I do when I think about you.”

There are probably a thousand people in the arena. Hundreds of different girls screaming his name. And yet there he is, standing on the stage, his bass in his hands and his eyes fixated on yours. He keeps them there, not caring about the crowd, not caring about the cameras that slide past him to capture his expression on the LED screen. He just keeps them there, glued to your shaking ones and if you were closer, he would’ve been able to see his reflection in them.

“Why does he keep looking over here?” You can hear a girl asking behind you, exchanging gleeful giggles with her friend. “Do you think he’s looking at us?”

Your heart squeezes into a ball before it swells large enough to suffocate your chest. You can’t believe he’s so shamelessly giving you all this attention, not giving a fuck about his image. And as he sings, “I feel like a hero, and you are my heroine,” you can’t take it anymore.

You bring your gaze to the ground, hiding your eyes behind your bangs with your teeth sinking into your lip.

Stop trying to make me fall for you, idiot.

It’s frightening, how easily he’s tugging at your heartstrings. At this point, you know you’re going to lose the battle and you don’t want that to happen. Not yet. He’s probably still unsure about his feelings as much as you are, especially when it comes to dealing with the consequences if your relationship fails in the future. None of you are prepared for that yet. You, certainly, are not ready to start a relationship with him. You’re not sure if you can deal with the pressure and the insecurities of dating a celebrity. You just want to keep whatever is going on with you right now as long as you can.

It’s just a safer option to choose.

***

When Jean said Eren was his agency’s golden boy, it wasn’t an overstatement. The more you see how it is going on inside the industry, the more you realize that Eren isn’t famous because he’s the lead singer of Empire. Empire is famous because they have Eren Jaeger as their frontman. Eren can survive in the industry without Empire, but the second he walks away from them, they’re as good as dead. And it shows from how much he has his own gigs, even declining offers from many respectable brands due to his tight schedule.

Today, Eren has invited you to one of his photoshoots since you keep pestering him about it. He didn’t want to agree to it at first, probably embarrassed to strike sexy poses in front of you but you were relentless. You wanted to know how it went behind the scenes, curious of how he would act as a model, and after taking you five times practically begging on your knees, he finally permitted you to see him in action. He hasn’t disclosed more details about the photoshoot, simply answering, “Just, you know, for some Italian company,” with a shrug when you asked him what it was for.

He provided you an address to follow and told you to meet him there, saying, “I’d love to go together with you but I have an interview before that.” And that’s fine, unlike you who have nothing to do but your laundry on the weekend, Eren’s schedule is always packed. It’s a good thing too that you don’t come with him knowing there might be paparazzi around and getting your picture taken and spread on the internet is the last thing you want to happen. His fanbase mostly consists of frenzied, immature fangirls who leave naughty comments on every YouTube video that features his face. The last thing you want is to have your social media accounts stalked and attacked viciously by them.

Following his address, you arrive at a five-star hotel that has, possibly, the most stunning architectural design you’ve ever laid your eyes on. True, you haven’t been going around much so you might be easily impressed, but seeing how expensive they charge their guest for a one-night stay, you might not be too far off.

Eren has given you a number to call once you arrive at the place. You follow his instructions and within minutes, a male staff with freckles on his cheeks come by to meet you in the lobby. “Marco!” You greet in surprise, your jaw hanging a little bit loose on your face.

The staff—who had kindly taken care of you during your whole backstage fiasco—gives you a polite bow, grinning happily that you remember his name. “It’s been a couple of months since we last met. How are you?” He asks and you stop for a chit-chat. Before long, he leads you to the elevator. “Come. Mr. Jaeger has been waiting for you.”

“I thought you were part of the technical team,” you say, trailing after him. “I didn’t expect to see you here for Eren’s modeling gig.”

“Well, I have nothing to do so I asked him whether I could tag along today. He said yes.” Marco smiles back, genuine and sweet. “He’s really kind, Mr. Jaeger. He’s a bit distant and cold when you first met him but if you could see past that, he’s actually really nice. He’s the reason why I still have this job, actually.”

“Yeah?” You respond, wanting to know his story. “What happened?”

“Well, when I first joined the team, I was so nervous and ended up making a terrible mistake during their performance. Once the concert was over, I was sure that would be the end of it for me, but Mr. Jaeger stepped up and took all the blame. I asked him why would he go through that trouble for me and he only shrugged and said, ‘No reason, just don’t feel like watching someone get fired on their first day of work.’ He was…” His eyes sparkle. “He was cool.”

Marco reminds you of how thirteen-year-old Eren used to talk about his idol, Kurt Cobain, and it’s so heartwarming to know that right now, Eren has someone who admires him just as much. “So, I’m guessing you’re his number one fanboy now?” You tease him and Marco simply laughs, growing a bit shy. “Why don’t you just call him Eren?”

“He’s told me to do that several times in the past, but I can’t. I respect him too much to call him by his first name like that.”

You hum. “You should, though. I’m sure he’d be happier if you call him by his name.”

“Why is that?”

“Because that’s what friends do.” You beam at him. “And if you want to pay him back, be his friend.”

Marco goes still for a few seconds before he melts into another soft smile. “The photoshoot is supposed to start in half an hour,” he says, stepping inside an empty elevator. He holds a button to keep the door open for you and you mention your gratitude with a nod. “But I guess we’re gonna run a little bit late since we’re still waiting for one more model to arrive—”

“Hold the door, please!”

Marco keeps his finger on the button until a boy with a mop of fluffy golden hair and his bag slinging on one shoulder steps inside the elevator. Panting for breath, he sighs in relief as he leans his back against the steel sheet, his maroon-colored beanie nearly falls off his head. “Thanks,” he says with an awkward smile as he fixes his thick eyeglasses. He’s holding a cup of iced americano in one hand while hugging three books to his chest. Checking the silver watch he has on his wrist, he mutters under his breath, “Thank God, there’s still time.”

“Which floor?” Marco asks him.

“What?” He abruptly straightens up, easily startled. “Oh—Thirty-sixth.”

“Oh, we’re heading there too.”

“Great. Are you—” One of his books slips away from his arm but you catch it for him before it meets the floor. “Oh, sorry,” he says, a little bit jittery when he speaks. “T-thanks.”

“Let me carry it for you,” you suggest. “You have your hands full over there.”

“Oh no—you don’t have to—”

“I insist.” You toss him a smile and he blinks twice before he quickly drags his eyes to his feet, his cheeks turning a little bit pink. You almost giggle. Three people inside this elevator with you being the only female, but these two men act more like a shy thirteen-year-old girl compared to you.

You take a glimpse of the book in your hand, a smile breaking on your lips once you see the title. “It’s rare for boys these days to read something by Virginia Woolf,” you say, gaining his attention back. “Are you a fan?”

“Ah… Yes.” He timidly nods. “Are—are you?”

“Absolutely. I don’t know how many times I’ve read this one already. I never got a copy of this book, though, which is a shame. It never feels satisfying, you know, reading the e-book version of it.” You keep your smile intact as you go through the pages. “Ah! This one is my favorite quote.” You stop at a certain page, eyes scanning through the passage before you read the words out loud. “I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river; to me, you’re everything that exists—”

“The reality of everything,” the boy finishes, already has it memorized. His eyes gleam in excitement, happy that he has found someone with the same taste. Now that he’s looking at you straight in the eyes, you can tell that he has blue eyes but his glasses are so thick, you’re not sure whether they have a splotch of green in them.

“I’m Armin,” he pushes back his glasses again before they slide down his nose. Hugging his books closer to his chest, he offers you his hand. “Armin Arlert.”

“Hello Armin Armin Arlert,” you joke, shaking his hand as you tell him your name. “And this is Marco… Bodt, right?” You question, unsure of his last name. Marco nods, raising a hand in the air to greet him.

He’s so entranced by the affable grin you display on your face that he doesn’t notice his books slipping off his arm again. He manages to catch them on his own this time, but as he abruptly bends forward, he spills almost half of his americano to the floor and some to his clothes. “Oh God,” he grimaces.

“You’re quite clumsy, aren’t you?” You help him up, gathering his books for him so he can wipe the stain off his navy blue sweater.

“Y-yeah, I get that a lot.” He forces himself to chuckle. Before he retrieves the books from your hand, the elevator stops at your floor. The door slides open and Marco steps out first, holding it for you.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Armin,” you say, returning his books to him. “As much as I would love the chat with you more about Mrs. Woolf, I believe you are running late.”

“Huh?” You can actually tell the second his mind clicks. “Oh, right, I am!” Without bidding goodbye, he already runs down the hallway, only to stop and turn on his heels to see you. “I hope we can meet again!” He shouts, waving his drink in the air and you laugh at him, doing the same thing with your hand.

“He’s so cute,” you say, chuckling to yourself. It stops immediately, however, when you see Marco playfully giving you a side-eye. “What?”

“Mr. Jaeger isn’t going to be pleased with that comment,” he says, holding back his grin as he walks past you.

“Wha—” You blush as you walk closely behind. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Marco, Eren and I are not dating.”

“It’s none of my business, but…” He smirks a little. “Okay.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re actually kinda cheeky, aren’t you?”

He laughs. “To my friends, yeah.”

***

They have hired a spacious suite—bigger than your entire apartment, for sure—to do the photoshoot. You see many staff, models, and photographers around you, walking back-and-forth to make sure everything is in order. Marco leads you further into the room until your gaze lands on the model who stands near the vanity mirror. He has one hand unbuttoning the collar of his shirt, slightly bending his head down to allow a female stylist to fix his hair. She spatters hairspray to his perfectly styled man-bun, her fingers slightly shaking when he leans closer to her.

Eren Jaeger has never looked this stunning, but even if you say that every time, today he’s just on another level. He’s wearing an expensive black, three-piece suit with impeccable tailoring and detailed lining that showcases the broadness of his shoulders. He steps into the sunlight, letting the warmth that seeps through the glassy windows coat his sun-kissed skin. The aura he’s giving off makes him seem more mature and charismatic, like a young businessman taking over his father’s prestigious company. He’s so breathtaking that you literally have to remind yourself to refill the air in your lungs.

“Mr. Jaeger,” Marco calls and Eren lifts his head. The distant, somewhat unfriendly look on his face instantly morphs into a smile once he sees you walking into his sight, and it feels so out of place with the rest of his appearance. He’s about to call your name when the director calls his first.

“We’re going to take a few shots of you first as we wait for the other model to arrive,” the older male says, approaching his spot. “You’re done with your make-up, right?” Eren nods. “Great, then let’s start.”

Eren casts you a glance, mouthing “Sorry,” as he walks away. You smile and whisper back, “Good luck.”

He takes a seat on the couch with his legs crossed and his elbow propped on its armrest. Even just by doing so, Eren already looks absolutely gorgeous, that the male photographer has to stop and stare for a good few seconds before he remembers to adjust his lenses.

The camera flashes once his piercing eyes meet the lens. Eren poses so naturally in front of these lightings and cameras that it startles you how a simple pose could look so beautiful when it’s done by him. He unbuttons his suit, leaning back against the couch, and raises his chin. His eyes growing half-lidded as he stares into the camera, making him look sensual without going overboard. Everything that he does reeks masculinity and elegance at the same time. You’ve known that his body proportions are insane but this outfit just highlights every inch of his body that needs to be appreciated. His usual mischievous grin has vanished without a trace, using more of his brooding look than anything else.

Good Lord, I need to take a breather, you think to yourself, looking away. You can probably spend a good hour just marveling at his beauty but then you realize something. “Marco, what photoshoot is this for again?” The way Eren stares back at the camera—both enchanting and challenging—sends shivers down your spine.

“Didn’t he tell you? It’s for this year Salvatore Ferragamo’s Fall Winter Menswear Campaign.”

“He—what?!” You shriek, covering your mouth when you notice you’re being loud. Now that you’re focusing more on your surroundings—and not at the hot, green-eyed model who’s eye-fucking the camera right now—you notice that the company’s logo is scattered everywhere. “I can’t believe—He told me it was just for an Italian company!”

“It is an Italian company.”

“Yeah, but—“ Your protest ends in a sigh. “Just some Italian company, my ass.”

Marco laughs lightly at your reaction. “He’s also been signed as the new face of their latest fragrance, by the way. You’re going to see him everywhere in a few months.”

“Oh my God.” Rubbing your temple, you mutter quietly, “I can’t believe I’m sleeping around with the new face of Salvatore Ferragamo. Jesus Christ.”

“Did you say something?”

“Nope.”

***

You sit and wait in the living room with your phone between your hands for the rest of Eren’s solo session, not wanting to bother the process. It’s probably better for your mental health anyway, knowing he looks like that. You’re scrolling through Empire’s official account on Instagram, getting moderately vexed when you find endless comments about Eren’s face and his ‘chiseled abs’ in one picture of him singing shirtless on stage. You’re in the middle of grumbling to yourself when a male model steps inside the suite, walking across the living room to get to where Eren is doing his photoshoot. You can tell he’s a model by what he’s wearing. It’s similar to Eren’s attire, only instead of black, this model is dressed in all white. His beautiful golden hair is slicked back, showcasing his temple, looking fresh and sharp with an undercut. He’s noticeably shorter than Eren, but his shoulders are broad and he has that handsome prince vibe swirling around him. He looks like he’s in his mid-twenty just like him, but he appears much younger. Boyish. Cute.

Cute? You frown, noticing how he looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?

He greets the director, rubbing the back of his head as he bows apologetically and through his jittery gestures, you realize.

Armin?!

You nearly stand up from your seat, shocked. He looks nothing like the nervous, clumsy boy you met in the elevator half an hour ago. The other boy seemed like the kind you’d meet sitting in the corner of a coffee shop with a book in hand and his glasses sliding off his nose every two minutes as he reads. He was cute, yes, but more like college student cute with his bangs falling over his eyes. Not I’m one of Salvatore Ferragamo’s smoking hot models kind of cute.

He exchanges conversation with the director and bows his head two more times before the older male leaves to see how Eren’s photoshoot is going along. Taking the opportunity, you approach him. “So I guess, you’re being scolded for being late?”

“Jesus!” He jumps, his hand going to his chest as he turns around to face you. “Oh, it’s you!” His eyes widen and without his glasses, you can really see just how blue they are. Perfectly blue, not a splotch of green can be seen. They remind you of the ocean, the way they glimmer under the light, so clear and beautiful. “What—what are you doing here? Are you one of the female models?”

“Dressed like this?” You gesture to your jeans and your chic powder blue button-down shirt, playfully furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Let’s get real, Armin, come on.”

“Ah, you’re right…” Then, he panics. “Wait—I’m not saying that what you’re wearing right now is sloppy or anything—it’s not, it’s not sloppy at all—you’re beautiful—” And he blushes, going frantic. “I mean—"

You’ve never talked to someone so shy and nervous before that just by seeing him, you can feel yourself getting awkward. “It’s… It’s okay. I get it.” You chuckle. “Calm down now.”

His mouth is parted, ready to spout more rambling but decides to end with a sigh. “I just…” He brings his gaze down to his feet. “I thought you were a model because you look…pretty enough to be one.”

He’s not flirting, you can tell. He can’t even maintain eye contact, so flirting would probably be the last thing that would cross his mind. Which makes this whole situation endearing, knowing that he’s just being honest. “Are you always like this?” You ask him.

He titters awkwardly. “Ramble when I’m nervous? Yeah.”

“No. Cute.” At your words, his jaw drops, staring at you with wide eyes shaking in disbelief as if he just heard you saying something outrageous when all you did was complimenting him back. “I’m just kidding,” you add, giggling. “Sorry, you’re just so transparent, I can’t help but make fun of you a little. Am I being mean?”

That little gape turns into a pout. “A little.”

“I’m sorry.”

A stylist comes close to interrupt, taking a double check on his white vest. “Then, uh, what do you do?” Armin asks as he tilts his chin upward to give the stylist more access to his collar. “If that’s not rude to ask.”

“Oh, I’m a journalist, working for PMC.”

“That’s a big company. You’re here for an interview?”

“No. My friend just invited me over,” you answer, cocking your head to where Eren is now standing on the balcony, leaning against the railing with his head thrown back while the photographer takes numerous close-up shots of him.

Armin follows your gaze. “You’re friends with Eren?”

“Are you?”

“Well, I think of him as one,” he awkwardly replies with a timid smile. “Not sure how he thinks about me, though.”

“Does he listen to you when you talk?”

“Huh?” He blinks. “Oh, umm… I guess?”

“Then yeah, he thinks of you as a friend.” You assure him. The stylist leaves the spot once she’s satisfied with her work and she sends her approval to a different photographer. “Well, Armin, don’t let me take too much of your time. You should go back to work.”

“I—I can stay for a chat,” he hastily responds, one arm reaching out to grab your wrist from walking away but giving up on the last second before he can touch you.

“Armin,” you chuckle, noticing how the photographer is now shouting his name from the other side of the room. “He’s literally calling you over there.”

Armin turns around to apologize to the male and raises one finger in the air, silently begging him to give him one minute to talk to you.

He faces you again, bracing himself. “Can—can we sit down and have a chat once I’m done with my photoshoot?” His thoughts start to run on their own before you can answer. “I mean—I’m not asking you to wait for me—you can leave whenever you want, but if you—if you’re planning to stay, I thought—maybe—coffee?”

With this amount of stammering, this is probably the worst way you’ve ever seen a guy asking you out on a coffee date but it is for that very reason why you find him even more adorable. “I’m sorry,” you reply, shoulders sagging, “I already have plans with Eren after this.”

“Oh—y-yeah—umm—” His voice shakes. “Are you guys… dating?”

“Huh? No, we’re not.” The words come out seamlessly from how many times you have repeated the same line to the people working in the industry, not wanting to give Eren unnecessary attention. Although it still feels heavy to say the words out loud, and wrong, as soon as you can convince yourself that you’re not lying to anyone, you can maintain your composure.

“Oh…” Armin’s eyes brighten up almost instantly. “T-then, maybe someday I can come by to your office and we can grab some lunch together?”

You know where this is going. If you say yes, you’re going to give him hope. He will think you’re interested in him, but are you? You find him endearing in a way that is so different from how you regard Eren in your eyes. Armin, just like his looks, is a stark contrast to how Eren is as a person. It’s not a bad thing, it’s… refreshing. You can’t deny you’re attracted to his face too, but…

What would Eren think about me seeing someone else?

“First, it can help make sure of your feelings for him,” you remember Pieck said. “Second, it can help him put some action to his feelings. He’ll get jealous. He’s not gonna want to share you with anyone else and maybe then, he’ll tell you how he truly feels about you.”

You chew on your bottom lip, still unprepared. But when you see the excitement in Armin’s sapphire blue eyes turns into worry as he weakly asks you, “Do you… not want to?” You don’t have the heart to say no. Besides, it’s not like the date is going to happen today. Probably not anytime soon. Maybe he’ll chicken out on the last second and ends up never asking you at all. You still have time to think about it.

So you smile, turning your eyes into crescents, and say, “I’d love to, Armin.”

***

A handsome devil and a beautiful angel.

That’s how Eren and Armin appear in your eyes as they stand next to each other with their backs leaning against the wall, posing for the camera. Eren has a dark, mysterious vibe to his charm while Armin is angelic and pure and they complete each other so perfectly like a painting.

You’ve already known how different Eren can be when he transforms into his other persona, but even then he still surprises you. You thought no one would have the duality like him, but Armin? Armin is insane. Just the fact that he doesn’t stand pale in comparison when he’s standing next to Eren Jaeger of Empire already says so much. Armin is drenched in confidence, far away from the nerdy boy who sinks into anxiety whenever he speaks longer than a word. He is bold and captivating. Even the intensity of his gaze matches Eren’s.

Two hours long photoshoot feels like a minute to you and you’re feeling a bit dazed when it’s over. “Perfect,” the director says, ending the session. “I think we got the shots we need.”

Eren noticeably sighs, looking downright tired when all he did was just standing there and looking pretty. Armin laughs, patting his back and murmuring encouraging words at him. The golden-haired boy seems more relaxed compared to when he was with you and it makes him appear even younger. Eren still has his guarded look on but you can tell he’s not annoyed by his presence. He even has this tiny smile—that will probably go unnoticed by most people—breaking on his lips as he sees Armin talks passionately about something. He gives him his full attention, nodding his head once a while as he listens. They’re like brothers with Eren being the older one who patiently waits for his little brother to finish his story.

Once you step into his line of view, however, his concentration breaks. “Armin, sorry, I gotta go,” he abruptly says, leaving the other boy startled. Eren strolls quickly to your spot, naturally winding one arm around your waist as he bends his head down to kiss your cheek. “Sorry for making you wait,” he says, standing a little too close and making you blush.

“Umm, it’s fine.” Your hand absentmindedly goes to your hair, carding through the strands that don’t need to be fixed. “You were—you did great.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, wiggling an eyebrow. “How hot was I?”

You roll your eyes. “Decent.”

“Always not honest.” Eren shakes his head, holding back his laughter. “Sorry for not keeping you company. I thought I could spend a few minutes to chat but I couldn’t even take a glimpse of you.”

So you didn’t see me talking to Armin before, huh? You refrain yourself from asking the questions. Seeing how he hasn’t said anything about it yet already serves as an answer. But how do you expect him to react if he did, anyway? Do you want him to be jealous? Do you want him to stand between you and Armin and say, ‘she’s mine, back off’?

You want to bury your face in your hands, ashamed of how your thoughts are imagining things on their own. Cheesy things too, as if your life was one of those horrendous rom-com movies you saw on Netflix.

“You okay?” Eren asks, frowning.

“Yeah, just…” Great, now you can’t even look at him. “Are you done with your photoshoot?“

“Yeah, I’m just gonna go change. Give me ten minutes?”

“Sure.”

Eren pecks your cheek one more time before he walks away and your eyes land back almost immediately on Armin’s. He’s seen everything, seen the way Eren behaved around you, and how you behaved around him. There’s a sad, heartbroken look on his face but you haven’t known him well enough to be sure about it. He timidly grins, awkwardly raising a hand in the air to wave at you. Strangely, you feel like you owe him an explanation and you find yourself wandering close to where he is until someone tugs at his arm.

“We need to get you changed for the next shoot,” one of the stylists says, “Come with me.” She leaves no room to bargain and Armin sends you an apologetic smile before he’s ushered to another room.

Well, you think, sighing. He’s surely not gonna show up for that date.

You’re not sure how you feel. Are you disappointed? Relieved? It’s a little bit of both. You’re still taking a moment trying to figure it out when Eren lands a hand on your head, startling you. You turn around to see him already dressed back in a casual shirt and jeans, his leather jacket draping over his shoulders. “Ready to go, babe?”

“Yeah.”

Whatever it is, you can think about it later.

***

Next Chapter

There's also a bonus chapter which you can read here.

AN: Thanks for reading! I'm so sorry that this feels like a filler chapter because I just really want to write backstage sex eren singing to her in front of his fangirls, it just gives me all the feels. I hope you liked it! Tell me what you think about Armin!

Thank you my dear @justasketch for always helping me brainstorm the shit out of this story. You're busy as fuck and yet you still spend some of your precious time to read my fic I'll never be able to thank you enough I LOVE YOU

Tagging: @tasteless @l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @luvtaromilktea @didiyogo @xximthefoolxx-blog @coiloves @erenbean @tehehebri thanks so much for reading, lovelies! ❤️❤️❤️ Let me know what you think!

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