#I also am someone who just wants to grow and yall push me to grow and do better so thank you for this and I’ve been BUSY but today with as

[extravagantliar]

I am laying on my ottoman crying about @fearindulgence.

[undead-discourse]

genuinely have to wonder what these people who are so staunchly anti non-offending paraphiles want to happen to said paraphiles. like... what, do you want them to be killed for their thoughts they cant control? you think they deserve to die because theyre mentally ill? do people with homocidal intrusive thoughts deserve to die too, for an act they have not and likely will never commit? i hate to break it to you, but paraphilias are way more common than you think, and the people who have them are humans just like you. some of them seemingly come from nowhere, but a lot of them stem from trauma, which yall dont like to think about because it reminds you that if things just went a little differently, you couldve ended up like the inhuman, irredeemable monsters you advocate for the murder of. either way, its literally not something that the paraphile can control. fundamentally its unlikely any of them will ever be able to shirk their attractions. they can, however, just like you, control their actions. they are people with mental illnesses so stigmatized that its socially acceptable to publicly call for their slaughter. if you fancy yourself someone who thinks that people can be reformed and rehabilitated, someone who identifies as a prison abolishionist or an anarchist, you cannot also advocate for the involuntary killing of people with mental disorders. and you cannot perpetuate this culture of shame and fear and hostility, because all it does is push paraphiles who desperately need help further into isolation, away from the help that they need, and closer to actually offending. if someone is outed as a paraphile, their entire life is ruined. all of their connections are severed. theyre met with constant active hostility for something they never asked for and something they cannot control. so why, then, would a paraphile ever feel comfortable asking for help? how could they ever feel like they can reach out to a professional or even just to their friends and family when the risk is so high? when theyre told that theyre going to hurt people no matter what anyway?

full disclosure, im a paraphile. i wont specify anything beyond that. but for the longest time i really did feel like an irredeemable monster who was doomed to hurt others, that it was only a matter of time. that mindset, unsurprisingly, is not very conducive to recovery. it was only when i found other paraphiles online, learned i wasnt alone, that i didnt have to feel like the only option was death, that i finally felt like i could take control of myself. the isolation was the biggest hindrance to that. feeling like i was entirely alone in the world aside from people who had committed heinous acts, because the paraphiles who havent obviously cant talk about it. except they do, in small corners of the internet, where they still face incredible harassment and shame. still, knowing i was in the company of good people and knowing that my attraction wasnt some conscious choice on my part that made me into an inherent monster helped majorly. i didnt choose to grow up in the environment that i did. i didnt choose what i was exposed to as a kid. i didnt choose how any of that would affect me. i didnt choose to be a paraphile. but i am choosing to be a good person despite it, and im choosing to let other paraphiles know that they can do the same. i know there are some reading this. youre not alone, you can get help, and you can choose to be a fantastic person. youre not doomed. you dont have to die to keep others safe.

to summarize: paraphiles are human beings with mental illnesses just like many of you. and just like you, they need help and support, but its incredibly difficult to get that when the public opinion on them is generally "you deserve to die no matter what." we are incredibly common. you probably know a paraphile. and if that deeply upsets you on a moral level, i hope you know thats the reason why paraphiles hide it and just get worse and worse.

paraphiles are always going to be here no matter how hard you wish they were all dead. thats just a fact. so you can keep making graphic threats against mentally ill people, literally only causing further harm to them and to others, or you can show compassion and a genuine desire to see things get better by at the very least not perpetuating obvious anti-recovery, pro capital punishment, pro thought crime propaganda.

.

[aanoia]

Hi, i like your writing!

I've got 2 song request ideas, if you want...

The first one, for Alphaville's 'Forever Young', maybe with James? Y/n doesn't want to grow old and is insecure, but James is really sweet about it.

And the second one for 'Love from the other side' from Fall Out Boy. Maybe that one of the Marauders is in love with someone who is forced on the other side of the war.

Only if you want to ofcourse, and you can also change the interpretation or story. No pressure! <3

I'm doing the second one for now, as I cannot figure out how to write you're first idea without repeating the same thing over and over iykwim. I am gonna write it I just need a bit. Anyway, I hope you like it as I did get a little carried away. No shame though.

Love From The Other Side

Sirius Black x reader words; 2,581 song; Love From the Other Side by Fallout Boy warnings; blood, death, death eaters, voldemort in the flesh, yk, not good ending my masterlist yall i got CARRIED away, i lowkey had sm fun writing it though like i've never really written an 'evil' character and it was amazing. i'll defo be doing it more anyway, if you love a song, the marauders, and my writing, request a song fic and your wish shall be my command. HAVE FUN!

Model house like meltdowns

Still a modern dream let down, it kills me

Sirius knew the risks of dating a Slytherin. But despite everything inside him telling him not to trust the girl, he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. She drew him in like a moth to flame. Unfortunately for Sirius, flames burn. 

You know I'm dying out here

What would you trade the pain for?

I'm not sure

“Pads, where is she?” James asked quickly as he shot a spell at a Death Eater.

Sirius did the same, knocking the Death Eater backwards, “I don’t know, James. I’ve got no clue at fucking all.” He said angrily as a soft spell hit his chest and pushed him back. He stared straight at the Death Eater, who simply cocked their head and flew away as black smoke. “What the fuck.” He mumbled, questioning why he was spared.

We were a hammer to the statue of David

We were a painting you could never frame and

“Sirius, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. Are you all right?” Y/n asked as she burst through the doors of the Potter manor.

Sirius smiled gently at her, “I’m okay.” he said and Y/n let out a relieved sigh, biting back the guilt that was creeping up on her. 

You were the sunshine of my lifetime

What would you trade the pain for?

“I need to go.” Y/n said quietly, letting go of Sirius’ hand.

“Again?” He asked. “You keep disappearing. Where are you going?”

Y/n pressed a kiss to her boyfriend's lips, “Not important. I’ll see you later.” She said and apparated away. Sirius furrowed his brow at the small amount of black smoke left behind.

This city always hangs a little bit lonely on me, loose

Like a kid playing pretend in his father's suit

“No, we need to be smarter than that.” A voice said and Sirius ducked behind a bush, keeping in a gasp as he saw a group of Death Eaters in a circle.

“You don’t know anything, girl.”

“I know how much stronger I am than you, Malfoy.” The same voice said and Sirius couldn’t help but recognize it. But how? “How much more worth I have to the Dark Lord. Back off.”

I'll never go, I just want to be invited, oh

Got to give up, get the feeling

Get the feeling, don't fight it, fight it

“Sirius, you’ve been zoning out. What’s going on?” Remus asked as the Order, minus Y/n who had left for personal business again, sat around a wooden table.

Sirius looked up, fighting back the tears, “I think Y/n’s a Death Eater.”

Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

Sirius stared at the Death Eater he was sure was his girlfriend, raising his wand with his chin held up high as he ignored the chaos ensuing around them. The Death Eater did the same and he scoffed.

“I know it’s you, Y/n. I know you’ve betrayed us.” The Death Eater didn’t respond, instead shooting a spell at Sirius, who quickly created a shield. “Just admit it. You’re one of them.” Spell, shield. “I fucking know it’s you! All your secret outings.” Spell, shield. Sirius took a few steps closer. “Don’t be a coward.” Spell, shield, step. “Show me your face.” Spell, shield, pounce. 

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Love from the other side of the apocalypse

Sirius jumped onto the Death Eater, not thinking about the consequences as he ripped the mask from their head. Although he already knew, her face confirming his suspicions made his heart clench and throat tighten. 

“You fucking traitor.” He seethed, apparating away before the tears could fall.

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Y/n froze on the ground, staring at the spot the love of her life was before he disappeared. Her head snapped to the side when she heard a strangled gasp and watched as her best friend gasped in horror, James pulling her away from the girl as he looked at her sadly before disappearing with his sobbing wife. Remus shook his head at her, tears in his eyes as well as his figure vanished. 

Y/n laid down on the ground, completely emotionless. The only indicator of her feelings was the lone tear that slid down her cheek and soaked into her hair.

Generation sleep

I'm falling in and out of love

I'm getting that tilted feeling out here

“You let them figure you out?” Malfoy sneered at Y/n who rolled her eyes.

“Now, now, Lucius. Let poor Y/n have a moment to mourn, she did just lose the love of her life.” Voldemort jeered. It was as if she had been stabbed in the heart as she shook her head.

“I don’t care.” She said, her voice steady.

Voldemort nodded, a nasty smile coming across his face, “Delightful.”

What would you trade the pain for?

I'm not sure

“No.” Frank Longbottom said, refusing to believe the news.

“Y/n?” His wife, Alice, asked quietly.

Nowhere left for us to go but heaven

A summer falling through our fingers again and

James nodded, “Yes. Y/n has unfortunately joined the Death Eaters, actually, we believe she was a Death Eater before she was a member of the Order.  So that means any plans we already had, will need to change-”

“Any plans they already had, will change.” Y/n repeated to the group.

“We need to change where we meet.”

“They’ll change where they meet.”

“We need new members.”

“They’ll recruit new members.”

“Anything to stay one step ahead of them.”

“They’ll do anything to stay a step ahead of us, without knowing we’re already three steps ahead.”

You were the sunshine of my lifetime

What would you trade the pain for?

Y/n sighed as she racked her brain, parchment in front of her and quill in hand. Where would they go next? Slowly, other thoughts crept in. Do I know what I’m even doing? Am I making the right choice, or fucking up royally? What about Sirius? When did my act become real life with him? When did I actually start loving him?

I shook the thoughts away as a lightbulb went off. The abandoned Black Manor. Bingo. That had to be where they’d meet next. I wrote down the address on the parchment and stood to bring it to everyone but froze at the door. Should I really do this? 

We're told we gotta get ahead, yeah, no matter what it takes

But there's no way off the hamster wheel on this rat race

Sirius held his breath as he waited to ambush the Death Eaters. They had figured out about the mini meeting being held, and brought the better part of the Order to out number them and attack. He only hoped Y/n wouldn’t be there, because he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t know if he would kill her or kiss her and beg her to come back to the light. 

James gave Sirius the signal and he immediately shot a spell down, alerting the Death Eaters of their presence. Frank jumped down from where he was hiding and shot a spell at a Death Eater, knocking them backwards. As the big fight began, one of the Death Eaters whistled loudly and black smoke filled the area. What? They knew? How? 

He spotted Y/n taking down one of the members of the Order and it clicked. They might have completely changed their plans, but their strategy stayed the same, and she knew it by heart. Because she created it.

I'll never go, I just want to be invited, oh

Got to give up, get the feeling

Get the feeling, don't fight it, fight it

“James, are you alright?” Lily asked, looking over her husband as he smiled and placed his hand on her baby bump, pressing a small kiss to her cheek.

“I’m okay. They knew about the ambush, and just ambushed us back.” He explained and she nodded sadly, knowing exactly who the culprit of their knowledge was.

Sirius shook in anger and grabbed a glass that rested on the table. He threw it hard at the wall, refraining from screaming his head off for no apparent reason. Lily gasped and James stepped in front of her protectively. 

“No matter what we do, with her on their side, we will never win.” 

Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

“What happened?” Y/n seethed, her wand pointed threateningly to a random Death Eater.

“The boy, he couldn’t be killed.” The Death Eater explained, his voice shaking.

“And the parents?”

“Dead.” Y/n shuddered, refraining from breaking down knowing people who used to be so important to her ceased to exist.

“The Dark Lord?”

“Not dead, but almost.”

Y/n nodded, “We’ll heal him, until then I’ll keep an eye on the boy as he grows up. And when the time comes, the Dark Lord will seek out his revenge.”

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Love from the other side of the apocalypse

“Sirius Black escaped, did you hear?” Lucius asked, coming into the dining room.

Y/n nodded, “I did. And?”

Lucius growled, “Well, I thought you’d like to know your boyfriend escaped from the inescapable.”

Y/n shrugged, “I’m not at all surprised. In fact, I thought he would’ve been out as soon as he was in. Not almost thirteen years later. However, it does give us a swell chance of breaking out some fellow Death Eaters, yes?”

Lucius briefly nodded, “Yes.”

Y/n’s eyes darkened as she smirked, “Yes, what, Lucius? Remember what our Lord demanded my name be, you should.”

Lucius refrained from rolling his eyes, “Yes, My Lady.”

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Y/n smiled as the Dark Lord was reborn, ignoring the clench in her heart at the strangled cries of Harry. He had grown into a handsome young man, that’s no doubt. He had the face of his father, and the eyes of his mother. 

“My Lady, my most loyal follower. Almost my equal, come.” The Dark Lord muttered and she obeyed. He whispered in her ear and her eyes fell onto the dead boy by a broken headstone. She nodded and stood back where she was.

Y/n glanced at Harry with a sinister grin, “Pleasure to see you again, Harry. Tell your parents I said hi when you see them again, yeah? We left off on the rather wrong foot, if you ask me.”

I saw you in a bright clear field

Hurricane heat in my head

Y/n stood quietly in the shadows as Lucius took the prophecy from Harry’s hand and turned around, only to be met with Sirius Black.

“Get away from my godson.” Sirius sneered and punched Lucius hard in the face. A small smile came across my face as I remembered our days in Hogwarts. His punch was exactly the same.

The kinda pain you feel to get good in the end, good in the end

Inscribed like stone and faded by the rain

"Give up what you love

Give up what you love before it does you in"

Sirius fought silently with Lucius, Harry standing behind with a winning grin. Y/n’s head flew to the side as she heard the familiar woosh of someone landing and shock coursed through her body as the words met her ears.

“Avada Keda-”

“Expelliarmus!” Y/n muttered quickly, making Bellatrix’ wand fly from her hand. Everyone looked around in shock, not knowing where the spell came from. “Unfortunately, Bellatrix, killing Sirius Black is of no use to us. And it makes things much less exciting, don’t you think, sweetheart?” She asked as she stepped out from the shadows, not missing Sirius’ gasp.

Y/n walked up to Sirius and he held his wand up threateningly. She held up her hands in defense and took a step closer.

“What do you want?” He asked, a hand protectively going to Harry.

Y/n’s eyes softened, “I know you will never forgive me, I doubt you’ll even believe me, but I am so sorry, Sirius. For everything. I love you so, so much., don’t forget to reread my letter.” She whispered and disappeared, leaving smoke in her spot as Bellatrix and Lucius followed suit.

“What was that?” Harry asked as Sirius locked eyes with Remus.

Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

“The diary, the ring, the gauntlet-” Harry repeated to Remus and Sirius, studying the letter.

“She told us everything and we were too daft to notice.” Sirius finished, shaking his head.

“Wait, so is she evil or not?” Ron asked and the room stayed silent, genuinely lost. Ron turned to the smartest person he knew, “Hermione?”

Hermione shook her head, a defeated look in her eyes, “I have no idea.”

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Love from the other side of the apocalypse

“The boy who lived has come to die.” Voldemort said, a wicked smile on his lips. Y/n stood by his side, zoning out as everything happened. She stared at Sirius, who stared right back. They eye contest was broken when Voldemort called Draco to his side. Y/n shook her head slightly at the boy who looked to her for instruction, but with the encouragement of his father he unwillingly walked over, only to receive an awkward hug from Voldemort. Y/n glanced at Sirius one last time, but he was gone.

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

“An entire war is going on and you’re here?” Y/n asked, leaning against the doorway of the main bedroom in the shrieking shack.

“I knew you’d follow me.” He said simply, gazing out of the window. “But you knew that already.”

Y/n nodded, “I did.”

“And you know why I want you here?” He asked, finally looking Y/n in the eyes.

She grinned, “I do. You want answers.”

Sirius nodded, “Bingo.”

Y/n sighed and stood up straight, walked over to Sirius who stood from his spot on the bed.

“Sirius, the last thing you want is answers.” She said quietly, her lips impossibly close to his.

He shook his head, “I do, you can’t tell me what I want and don’t.”

Y/n let out a breathy laugh, “I know you want this.” She said and leaned in, kissing him gently. He hesitated but reciprocated the kiss, letting his hand snake around her neck and into her hair. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled against his lips and pain bloomed in his abdomen. 

He closed his eyes, the cool metal of the dagger quickly warming with his blood. Y/n helped him down to the floor gently, keeping her hand behind his head so he didn’t hit it on the way down.

“Why?” He whispered.

Y/n smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before whispering in his ear.

Sending my love

“Long live, Lord Voldemort.”

Sending my love

taglist (if u wanna be added js comment :));

@loving-and-dreaming @1lellykins @poetrypirate

[none-i5]

Tonight, I have a few thoughts and feelings. This unfortunately means I have to make an extremely long post. But anyways

Idk about others, but Furina losing her status as the Hydro Archon in those theories isn't what bugs me. If yall wanna have some food for thought, then that's perfectly fine. There are even a few that have some interesting thoughts, and yk if a girlfailure wants to chill for a bit, then good for her.

What I am pissed off about though is how most people want this to happen because...they don't like her?

I'd like to establish that there are two things to determine about how good or bad a character is: if they're good morally/have a good attitude, or if they're written in a good way. These are two separate things. I want to emphasize that.

Whether or not a character has good morals or a good attitude is up to the person, but I think regardless of whether someone thinks the character is good or bad morally or attitude wise, if the character hits the criteria of being well written by creative writing standards, then that needs to be acknowledged. Basically:

Good moral/attitude =/= good writing

So, we get back to Furina. Literally just a few minutes into her introduction, and most people already have very strong impressions or opinions about her: she's a brat, she's childish, she's insecure, and in some situations she is a coward. As we learn more of her, we learn that: she is willing to give herself for her people (her people pleasing tendencies + her extensive research of the prophecy over centuries) and that she isn't too annoying or heartless if someone like Neuvillette is willing to stay under her care for 500 years.

Whether or not you think she has a good attitude or good morals is up to you, and I'd respect that. I deeply respect people (like bwaap) who may have some less than the best opinions of her, and yet can fully acknowledge that she's a well written character.

But first, why do I think she's a well written and well performed character? Well, let's take a look at a list of notes of basically how to write a good character according to a post by Brighton Rose and lectures from Brandon Sanderson. I'll try to keep these as short and concise as possible. These notes are:

They have motivation, long-term or short term

They have flaws and setbacks

They have little quirks

They have progress throughout the story

And that all of these are shown properly, not told.

Furina checks out most if not all of these notes. She has a long term goal (to stop or protect people from the prophecy), and a kinda short term one (to gain the attention and affection of her people and recently, the Traveler). Obviously, she has her flaws and setbacks--I'm sure you'd know. Same for quirks. But for progress...while I can't say much since not all the Archon quests are out, I will note that Furina took the second trial more seriously after seeing that she nearly made the grave mistake of falsely accusing one of her people. Whether or not that's due to her embarrassment or because she actually cares about only putting the right people behind bars, that's up to you. Regardless, it is still progress.

Whoo, I've been going too long at that. Where was I again? Oh right, the thing that really pisses me off

If you don't like Furina's attitude or morals, then that's fine. I'm not that blind. But then, there are people that--just because she's too bratty or that her flaws are a little too apparent--immediately claim that she's the embodiment of bad writing. Honey, she doesn't need a personality workshop, she just needs to grow.

Also, I don't dislike Neuvillette but I do dislike the role some of his fans push on him. No, I don't mean the Archon role. I mean as someone Furina should be. I mean as someone they want Furina to be. It's extremely disrespectful for both of their characters--with all of my arguments basically boiling down to "they're different people".

TL;DR: What pisses me off is how people want to transplant Neuvillette's personality onto Furina, or to hold him up as some sort of standard of what she should've been, not all the "She's going to lose her Archon status" theories. I'm not asking people to like her attitude or morals, I'm begging people to stop thinking of her as someone who needs fixing.

She doesn't need a fix. She needs growth. Yknow, if you'd actually let her grow and not just turn a blind eye away from it.

So...yeah!

[crappymixtape]

sorry u don't have to post this

But its so fucking stupid people keep bringing up the same shit- ESPECIALLY people trying to tie it to what is going on on Gaza WHEN LITERALLY WHATEVER HAPPENED BETWEEN EM AND AUTUMN HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT

Like im sure both people had distress and were upset about what happened but let's NOT try to act like it is on the same level as a literal genocide

Also yall dont owe us anything. You can share on her or not (while obv i would want u to share denouncing the "war" i am not going to jump down your throat because my friend runs solely a fanfic blog and shares that...little weird and desensitized to see smut after smut then war then smut again. Some people use this to escape reality and yes that is privileged of us but also we have 0 clue what is going on in your personal life etc)

Like...people complain the fandom is dying and are pointing fingers when three are pointing back at themselves like ????????

Anyways love u if u have a way to tell Emmy we care pls do.

abso-fucking-lutely, nonny ( WARNING: i get political and shit up in this, so avoid if you don't have the space )

there is so much happening in the world right now and at the end of the day it's so disheartening and discouraging ( especially for me as a mom ) – idk about you but i NEED this place. i NEED this outlet. somewhere i can try and find joy to refill my cup so i can keep fighting against all this bullshit. so i can recharge and get back out to push for equality and the right to live and against genoc!de and racism and capitalist dicks and the future of this planet and god dammit even just writing that is SO heavy.

so why do we come here and hate on each other for trivial things? why do we come here and pile more shit onto plates that are already full? why are we putting so much energy and effort into pulling each other down when we could be lifting each other up? when even just that small act of support ( or just shutting tf up! ) can make things better or at least not make them worse?

i recognize my privilege and understand opportunities that i have are not accessible to everyone and i work really hard to democratize those opportunities. i work hard to undo my bias, to unlearn, to get comfortable with the uncomfortable and i'd be down to have those conversations with people! but not on anon. and not in an aggressive shitty matter. come to me human-to-human and TALK TO ME. it's how we make progress, it's how we learn from each other. it's how we widen our POV and change our opinions and grow, but doing it with malice and anger is NOT it.

i just truly don't understand. we all have ONE life. why would we spend it filling it with hate and vitriol? it's just not worth it. and i don't have the patience or the time to deal with bullshit. there are bigger things i aspire to, bigger causes that need my energy and commitment and if you're not down or you're on a vendetta to ruin someone's life ( or tumblr rep i guess?? ) then i think you should just go.

this place allows people to keep pursuing something outside of what they're swimming ( or honestly sometimes drowning ) in. it gives us, gives me, the boost to keep fighting the good fight so don't drag us into it.

the ST fandom might feel like it's dying, but there are still some incredible writers on here who share the love and true sentiment of the characters we love so much. as long as i'm here i'll always bring life to steve and eddie. don't let shitty people take it from you. tumblr or not those characters and the way they make you feel will always be yours.

and of course i'll tell emmy, babe ♥️♥️

[no-droids]

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt.  You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours.  But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to.  You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did.  Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints.  Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does.  Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it.  But truthfully, you didn’t want to.  You were worried about him—still are, actually.  But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on.  He’s been through way worse, and you know it.  You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers.  He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening.  Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure.  All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation.  After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield.  It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips.  The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards.  To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster.  “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you.  “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code.  My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound.  “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment.  “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it?  You blink.  No, it doesn’t.  You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name.  You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever.  “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not.  “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show.  Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here.  Something could’ve happened.  Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it.  Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina.  Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot.  “They’re fodder.  Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.”  He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass.  “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions.  Tied specifically to Guild contracts.”  Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare.  “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties.  Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him.  “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace.  “Not sure I’d care too much if you did.  It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit.  Shit.  What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed.  Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company.  He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied.  Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence.  Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy.  It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this.  Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve.  Karga is a nice guy, right?  He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando.  And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too.  How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder?  You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?”  You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?”  He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice.  Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly.  You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way.  You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity.  “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it.  “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you.  If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice.  If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it.  You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal.  “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head.  “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out.  “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold.  It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to.  It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando.  You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave.  You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides.  He said he wants to help you?  This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?”  He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head.  The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?”  You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours.  “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously.  “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances.  You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment.  “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away.  He helped you out, you’re halfway through this.  Now comes the exchange.  Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you.  “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far.  Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late?  He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face.  “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table.  There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task.  “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…”  Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it.  This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here.  He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it.  “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you.  “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay.  Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much.  Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again.  Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.”  You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you.  “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay.  Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly… 

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it.  Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck.  It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward.  You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?”  You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs.  “Of course you don’t.  Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit.  This is not at all how you expected any of this would go.  You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request.  There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary.  Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum.  “You said you’re here on his behalf.  You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh.  Oh, no.  This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits.  It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table.  You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here.  It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!”  He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good.  Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t.  You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you.  You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach.  He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him?  Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried.  Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before.  Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp.  The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him.  “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend.  The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air.  Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now.  You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all.  It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe.  “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer.  It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet.  Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense.  You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him.  You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!”  A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab.  Right in fucking front of him.  “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck.  Great.  Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t.  You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out.  Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now.  You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it.  Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

*** 

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried.  You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual.  You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing.  Was there a confrontation, you wonder?  Is he okay?  He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though.  As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you.  Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view.  The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace.  He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?”  He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down.  “Are you alright?  Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say.  How are you going to tell him?  He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say?  You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh…  I-I’m sorry, I just…”  But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him.  “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?”  He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him.  “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out.  His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him.  If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands.  “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you.  Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess.  “It’s okay.  You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak.  He’s lying for your benefit, he must be.  When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—”  You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…”  His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?”  You have to think about it.  Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already?  You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility.  “Um… no?  I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?”  He asks, taking a small step forward.  “You don’t know?  Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes.  You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now.  It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…”  Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him.  “I don’t know, I’m not like you.  I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better.  I think he was probably just being normal.  He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb.  This is what’s bothering him?  Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work?  It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played.  He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them.  How are you supposed to take that?  Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning?  You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?”  You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest.  It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason.  He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you.  Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.”  He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly.  Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him.  “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.”  His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?”  You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm.  In another weirdly stupid, primitive way.  You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it.  Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode.  Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before.  You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now.  He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.  “Maybe.  He could’ve just been trying to be friendly.  What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit.  “Did he scare you?”

“For me?”  You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards.  Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless.  “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?”  Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze.  “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds.  The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid.  Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you.  Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you.  You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours.  You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now.  Achy.  Hot.  Needy.  Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?”  He asks you after a prolonged silence.  His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained.  Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you.  “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice.  Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards.  He wants to do this here?  Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word.  Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?”  You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck.  You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought.  Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to.  It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker.  You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it.  Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long.  You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you.  You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?”  Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner.  You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him.  He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss.  Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this?  Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?”  Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you.  Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull.  Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can��t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment.  You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you.  “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet.  This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest.  Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling.  “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need.  Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point.  You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?”  Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him.  You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing.  Nothing.  You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing.  Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time.  Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability.  You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better.  His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again.  You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view.  Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass.  The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time.  His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open.  You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit.  His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you.  The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here.  If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body.  You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it.  You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort.  Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most.  Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this.  You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too.  It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too.  Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place.  You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace.  Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance.  You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him.  He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you.  Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can.  It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning.  You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer.  His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting.  Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?”  He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it.  “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could.  He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle.  You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to.  You could struggle.  If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it.  You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time.  Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him.  You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more.  It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too.  Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t.  Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock.  Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him.  There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin.  You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you.  You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears.  Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways.  You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb.  Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off.  You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up.  The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours.  Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works.  Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too.  At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly.  You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal.  You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face.  “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do.  Easy.  He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed.  Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body.  You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep.  He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal.  The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again.  You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation.  Come on, work.  Move forward.  Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly.  Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled.  Ran over by a truck.  Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful.  This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart.  The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones.  You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs.  It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever.  It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it.  “Hey.  Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know?  You figured you’d be way ahead of him.  You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here.  The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over.  You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point.  It’s easy, you like it.  Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back.  Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway.  It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin.  Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine.  He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin.  His bar of soap, not yours.  They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize.  How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone.  The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not.  Hot water, not freezing cold.  Standing upright and supporting you.  Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue.  You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again.  Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this.  Skin to skin contact.  Someone to hold.  Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar.  Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest.  You want to tell him not to leave.  Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay.  You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed.  You don’t know.  But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.  

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know.  You know.  From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection.  But you know him.  You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return.  You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you.  Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary.  Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to.  It wasn’t said so he could say it back.  It just is.  Some things don’t need explanations, they just are.  You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it.  You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word.  It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels.  There’s something hidden underneath.  You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired.  You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless.  He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber.  “I’m…  not allowed to ask.  I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense.  Was that a translation?  Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest.  It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it.  You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows.  “You can.”

[cutegirlmayra]

I’m doing this now, so I can get more done XD

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, YOU CUTE SENTIMENTAL READERS WILL HAVE TO JUST READ WHAT IS ALREADY IN THE INBOX DURING THE TIME THAT THEY WERE OPEN, BUT NOW, THEY’RE CLOSED. SLAMMED. LOCKED UP IN CONFINEMENT. NO MORE PROMPT REQUEST UNTIL THE GRAND REOPENING YOU ADORABLE PATIENT SNUGGLY-WUGGLIES. (yall have reduced me to this... lololol)

I’d like to first say that Sonic considers all his friends equally. Cosmo and Chris ARE apart of Sonic’s best friends. He doesn’t value one above the other. It’s very much within Sonic’s personality to keep that balance and ‘distance’ (His aloof nature) as well as the strong bond between him and Chris, and also the one forming with him and Cosmo.

Am I saying I prefer Chris and Cosmo? No. I do like Cosmo, thought Chris was a marketing scheme to get kids to like Sonic and relate to him through a ‘similar to them, human chara to insert themselves onto’, and I do like Tails (As my fav chara) and Amy (As my favorite to write) but I can’t ignore that Sonic DOES and WILL ALWAYS care about Chris and Cosmo. Anyone in danger is someone Sonic will do anything for to protect... he barely knew Elise, and still risked a lot to protect her? Same difference.

I am not defending those characters, I’m defending SONIC’S CHARACTER. The ingregity of a hero is not substained by ‘favorites’ among friends, but by the quality of one’s heart to open up and care about another’s suffering.

For Sonic, no matter who it was, he was going to get emotional for them. Because that’s the mark of a true hero.

Just wanted to clear that up lol

I have a friend who asked the same thing, “You’ve known *So-and-So* For more than 16 years...” And I had to tell them that I loved them just as much, and cared just as much, that time could not measure my love, and that my heart’s size did not grow with time, but with understanding. And The more I understood and spent time with my friend, the more love grew to reach no amount.

I feel Sonic may think the same. It’s not the amount of ‘time’ spent, it’s just that ‘I’ve decided your my friend now, and I care about you. That has no limitations.’

Sonic is a character about surmounting limits, so I feel as the ‘fastest thing alive’ he’s also the most ‘fastest at making friends and caring about them.’ Take Chip for example! Yeah?

And he knew Chris longer than Chip!

But I digress~ To the Prompt!

Prompt:

“Sonic! Amy is...”

“I didn’t get that Tails? What’s happened to Amy? Tails!”

Sonic held the recieving radio close to his face, his eyes widening only a split second during Tails’s callout, but quickly reverted to a serious expression.

Later, as the slow moving door rose upwards to reveal the red of Sonic’s shoes and then the rest of himself, Eggman quickly shifted his gun to Amy, making sure it was obvious the situation at hand...

“Let’s take care of business, first... shall we, Sonic?” He sneered with his voice having the husk of angry revenge seething from the pushed breath upon his teeth. “Hand over the Chaos Emerald, slowly..., and then we’ll talk about your girlfriend, that is... if you really care for her...”

Amy’s face turned to grief,... did people not really believe Sonic cared about her?

It then sunk in her heart... did she really know?

She placed a light fist upon her chest... looking down.

No! She knew that he did, but the world mattered far too much for him to make this decision!

She rose her head with a sharp nod, but Sonic was already contemplating to himself, looking at the fake Chaos Emerald... Thinking about killing two birds with one stone, before Amy summoned her hammer and side-stepped from Eggman’s pointed pistol.

“What!?” Eggman exclaimed, as Tails’s mouth elongated at the action.

“Amy!” Sonic snapped out of his inner-dialogue to look up at Amy’s quick action, his eyes shrinking at her hasty movement, and swung a hand out, “Wait!”

Tails dashed in, the stomping of his Tornado’s feet clanking harshly against the ground, “Ammyy..!”

“Tails, not you to!” Sonic quickly stated as Eggman shook his fists in the air, lowering his head down an then quickly jumping up in his own mech. “Ohh..!!! That does it, say goodbye to your brazen friends, Sonic!” Eggman shot out his blast but it hit Tails’s mech first.

“Wo-woah!” Tails’s machine kept running before crashing down on one side. He looked up, worried now that he was immobile.

“Tails, the Emerald!” Sonic was about to make a new plan before stepping directly into Eggman’s trap. “What!?”

“Whahaha!” Eggman laughed, but Amy’s hammer intercepted his boasting, “Offph!”

He dropped the gun...

“I don’t think so!” Amy then rushed over to Sonic, “Leave it me, Sonic!” putting both hands on the tube he was trapped in.

Sonic shook his head, looking upset, “Amy, don’t do it! It’s dangerous!”

“Danger is no stranger to me.” Amy confidently responded, but then Eggman held up his gun and locked it onto Amy. “Uah!” Amy cried out, seeing the switch of weaponry and pinned herself against the outside of Sonic’s imprisoning tube.

“No!” Sonic shouted out, “You want the Emerald, Eggman? Right? Let Tails and Amy go!” Sonic held up the Chaos Emerald and nodded his head, then swung his arm again to show that he wanted his friends safe.

“Whaha... you thought you could trick me with that fake Emerald, didn’t you?” He smirked behind his mustache, cleverly disguising his ploy, as his voice gave off a serious tone to hide his genius... He ducked his head as Tails began, confirming his suspicions...

“So...” Tails looked a bit apologetic, wondering... he had perfected the shape and design, how could he tell? “How did you know it wasn’t the real one?”

“Tails!” Sonic scolded loudly.

“Because you just told me, Fox boy!” Eggman chuckled at the young boy’s naiveness. “

It took a moment, but the realization hit Tails’s face much harder than that last blast of the gun did to his machine.

“Now, for a little space ride..! Whaa!?” Eggman felt his machine topple slightly in balance, and looked over to see Amy’s boots sliding in desperation for traction, trying to scoot and step his robotic leg-parts out to do the splits.

He quickly readjusted and she went flying forward, her hammer having been hooked to the robotic leg’s ankle. “But first... a little Rodent control..!”

“No..!!!” Sonic cried out as the light of the blaster flashed by the tube... Sonic’s eyes shaking... his fur turning a darker shade in intervals... fading in and out...

“The fate of your friends rests entirely in your hands, if you choose to oppose me, then I can assuredly say that it was you that brought their undoing... Sonic.” Guilt-tripping, Eggman turned with his blaster still powering down, the steam coming off of it.

Sonic’s hand shook as his fingers pressed against the edge of the tube, as though he had moved at rapid speed against it when the blaster went off... but he was unable to stop it...

“This painful price... is simply from their following after you, Sonic... you’re the one that keeps putting your friends in danger, and allowing them to fall into my clutches.” Eggman held up his hand and slowly folded it into a tightened fist, grinning diabolically.

Sonic slid down the side of the tube, bending to a knee.

His hands came down in front of him, his body trembling...

“Quite entertaining... really... Hahaha!” Eggman laughed, “Say goodbye, Sonic! Or are you really too late for that, too?”

Amy’s body began to flinch, but Sonic couldn’t see it.

His head held low... his fur changing...

Eggman suddenly stopped laughing, “Hmm?” he leaned a bit forward, raising a large, protruding eyebrow up and out towards the new, strange behavior.

“Are you really getting that upset over her, Sonic? Do you mean to tell me you actually did care about the girl..?” Eggman had figured, but this was... a bit unpresedented a reaction.

Sonic let out a raspy, shaking breath... “I’ve... never seen Tails so scared.”

Tails looked horribly sorry towards Sonic.

“Hmph, he should be.” Eggman took that as a gloating opportunity, his chest coming out in pride. “After all, I am to become the new Emperor of the world, you know!”

Little did he know... Shadow’s betrayal was almost certain... if Amy didn’t survive this.

“Amy... She’s passed out.” His fur immediately lit up like a dark flame...

“She tried to escape, and was taught a painful lesson.” Eggman flurished a hand out, rotating it. “Child’s play.” he mocked.

“Eggman... What did you do to them!?” He rose up as though stating that Eggman’s last decision just costed him everything... the subtle game they had been playing for years... all gone in smoke now.

Eggman actually winced back, “Eee..! What’s going on! I’ve never seen you like this before, Sonic!” he moved his machine back to a pivoting step, “On second thought, forget the theatrics, and just die!”

With a smirk, Sonic held up the Chaos Emearld, “Alright, Tails... let’s test this fake out!” he was dropped into space... but the explosion happened far too early.

“W-what?!” Eggman looked out the window, then panickally began to flee, “Tactical advantage lost, change of plan. I’m outta here!” he dashed quickly out as Tails got his machine to at least stand up.

“A-Amy..?” He looked with a trembling lower-lip towards her, “J-Just hang on... I’ll... I’ll get that slimy, slippery Eggman and... And I’ll make up for this! Somehow!” He took off after moving her gently to the side, near the window, and raced off after Eggman, even with a limp in his robotic leg. “EGGGGMMANNN!!! You’ll pay for this!” tears were still in his eyes...

Sonic’s body pireced the room and flew after Eggman, who asked him to settle down as his eyes were now pure white, his body completely a blackish blue...

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up be-GAK, GAWK!” Sonic interupted his banter by immediately seizing his throat, it was barely a blink in sight, almost like a glitch of light and he was at his throat... choking him...

“You like to play and mess around, too, Eggman...” Sonic squeezed his throat a bit more, making the poor doctor let go of his controls a moment, flailing. “Too much...”

He finally was able to manage, without looking as his head was propped up, to grab the controls and try and use his blaster to get Sonic off of him.

It worked, but Sonic just blinked out in an instant, standing before him now, the Blaster making a far-off explosion behind him.

“I’m really disappointed in you...” Eggman rubbed his throat, “That shot only stunned her nervous system... she’s still alive, you know...”

Sonic’s eyes softened a moment at that confession.

Eggman propped his machine to stand up properly at it’s normal, bouncing height.

“From now on...” He readjusted his blaster, moving it around a bit, “Be careful not to let your temper get out of control,... Or one of these days, you may find you’re always angry!” He seemed to maybe... be referring to himself.

He looked up as though a touch of relatability...

“And don’t worry about Amy...” He then turned his head back before walking on ahead, “A certain Hedgehog that looks strangely familiar to your new shade of doom and gloom has that covered...”

“What?” Sonic powered down as he moved back to the room... Sure enough, that fake hedgehog... was healing Amy.

Her eyes flickered a bit as she panted in her strain. “S... Sonic?”

The hedgehog said nothing... his eyes were only seeing a memory... Maria...

Chaos energy flowed from his hands out of himself, and he then pushed it gently into her, “Chaos... Control...” He closed his eyes as he felt his arms stiffen while Amy slowly fell to sleep...

Sonic walked over... each step lightening his fur, before he paused behind him, looking down at Amy.

“... Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me at all.” Shadow got up from his bent stance on his knee, raising up to look down at her. “... One bad decision... and you became like me.” He looked over to him, “... A shadow of your former self.”

Sonic’s eyes squinted somewhat gingerly... 

“... You should take better care of your friends... keep them out of this place..!” Shadow swiped a hand out as he turned around, exiting...

“She made her decision long ago... Shadow.” Sonic rose his head up as Shadow stopped.

“... I had to honor it... because once she sets her mind to something... something... for someone that she loves...”

Shadow’s eyes began to tear up... thinking of Maria, his back still to Sonic as he paused in his retreating steps...

“There’s nothing that can stop her...”

“Except death itself.” Shadow concluded, and walked on... Sonic looked over his shoulder, sharing a crucial moment with Shadow that would define the rest of their dynamic moving forward.

They connected. They had something in common now. A mutual understanding...

Amy stirred and Sonic immediately turned back to her, bending down, “What you did was crazy, Amy.” He smiled lightly as he moved her head a little so he could place his hand behind it, to support her.

“S... Shadow?” She had seen only a glimpse of the dark fur... but then it reverted back to blue. “Sonic?”

“... Shadow did heal you... he seemed to want to save a lot of people now.” He looked tenderly to her. “I think that might have been your doing.”

Amy teared up, reaching weakly up to Sonic. “Sonic... you’re alive..!” she weakly tried to hold him... but her arms trembled and softly fell to his shoulders... sliding a bit as her head dipped back into sleep. “Sonic... Sonic...”

“Shadow... Shadow...” Maria’s echoing voice... as Shadow was thrown out into a similar tube... as Sonic was.

The paraells... would now connect them... for life.

(I accidentally made it a buddy-buddy relatable thing with Shadow and Sonic but eh XD It was meant to be that way in SA2 anyway. Sonic’s entrapment, Amy held at gun point, was meant to show a paraell with Shadow, Maria, and G.U.N. But alas, I have crafted it to combine the two scenes into a buddy fic XD I hope you liked my hurt/comfort AU, I tried to keep it in the character of Canon as much as possible, while incorpriating actual lines from both scenes in the requests. Enjoy~<3)

[3mmafr0st]

Sharing the Throne

Boba Fett x Reader Arranged Marriage AU!

Warnings: Arranged marriage au so everything that comes with that, maybe smut later on if yall like this idea idk, also my bad writing is warning enough

Word Count: ~1.7k

 Fear was a funny thing. It could hit you in and instant, a rapid burst of terror, a rapid burst of terror, or it could seep in slowly without you even noticing, slowly pooling and radiating outwards until you feel like you’re drowning in it. Your head tries to push yourself over the waves but the tide just keeps pulling you down. I was drowning, desperately trying to keep my head above water.

My room on the ship was large and lavish. Anything I could ever want or need, I had in here. Supposed to be a dream, right? But the size made me feel like an ant, helpless, counting down the minutes and seconds until my life would be ended under the heel of someone's boot. Even with the people surrounding me, spraying and curling, applying and blending as I sat there, their pretty little doll that I was, I felt utterly alone. I could feel the gaping hole that I felt inside me growing as the clock ticked down. At least the dress was nice, that’s a consolation prize at least. 

“Are you excited, my lady?” The question burned in my brain. Excited was very much most definitely not the descriptor that I would use. 

“I am prepared to do my duty to the family.” I spoke clearly, without emotion, fearing that even letting one feeling out would cause a tsunami of fear and anxiety to rear its ugly head. The woman who spoke to me was in front of me, applying various powders to my face as I sat there, my face a blank void.

“It’s ok to be nervous, miss. It’s not every day that you get married!” she giggled, but I could not bring myself to be joyful about the situation. I was to marry a man that I had never met, all in the name of allyship between the families. I know I was supposed to love my father, that was how you were supposed to feel about your family, but I couldn’t help but resent him for this, to what he was putting me through. He never asked, never gave me an option to choose who I wanted to be with for the rest of my life, instead my life was signed away, signed away to Boba Fett.

Finally, I was ready, well, on the outside at least. As I waited at the back of the procession, my fingers fiddled with the fabric of the dress, hoping that my father could not see the panic and dread in my eyes. My arm was linked with his, as I tried to steady my breathing, trying to control myself with long deep breaths. The mesh-like fabric that fell over my face tickled my nose and cheeks as I could hear the band begin to play. My niece started before me, lining the path with desert flower petals in front of us as my father and I began to walk towards the altar to the beat of the music. The farther I got down the aisle, the more my stomach began to turn and twist, making it harder to make each step. And then I saw him. 

He wasn’t at all like I had expected. I had never seen the man’s face before, only stories told dozens of times over, catting changed and twisted with each new iteration and audience. From the stories told of the great and feared Boba Fett, I thought he would be much older, maybe with a long white beard and a look of intimidation  and anger permanently on his face. However, he appeared to be younger than I thought, maybe in his mid fifties. The way he held himself was not that of a crime boss, I had seen enough to know, but of a nobleman, regal and strong. His mere presence seemed to command respect from the guests, radiating an air of strength.  Maybe this wouldn’t be entirely suffering for the rest of my days, no one telling his stories ever mentioned how attractive the great and terrible Boba Fett was. 

As my father and I drew nearer to the altar, he shook Fett’s hand before unhooking his arm from mine, passing me to the armor clad man I was to marry. His hand led me to where I was to stand with a grace that I had not expected from him. I had only seen him for maybe a minute, and had already been breaking the expectations that I had for him. As we settled into our respective places, Fett’s hand reached up and pushed the veil up and over my face. He gave me an awkward smile, very different from the stoic exterior and the ruthless man that legend told of. He was trying to break the tension, trying to make me feel more comfortable in the situation. 

And the wedding went on, without interruption or hesitation, as the man stood between us read the vows. Finally, it had come to our turn to speak. 

“Do you, Daimyo Boba Fett, take Y/N Tekarack, to be your wife?” Although his face looked stoic and cold in that moment, his eyes were kind and inviting.

“I do”

“And do you, Y/N Tekarak, take Daimyo Boba Fett to be your husband?”It was asked, as if I had a choice in the matter, but it was an illusion, made to convince the onlookers that I truly and deeply wanted this. “I do.”

There, there and then, the fear once again began to bubble forward threatening to burst forth from me. I was being pulled under, losing air and time. As the officiant announced the union, Fett drew closer to me, cupping my face in his hand in an act of comfort. The kiss was quick, so much so that I hadn’t any time to anticipate, but it was enough to cause the people witnessing to cheer. Fett offered his arm out to me, and I hooked my arm into his as the two of us made our way to the dinner hall. 

The party had picked up as locals from Mos Espa, Fett’s guards and staff, and my own family heartily enjoyed the festivities put forth for them. Music filled the throne room as everyone with full bellies and full drinks began to dance to the music. Fett did not join in on the festivities however, preferring to watch the dancing and fun from the comfort of his throne, and so of couse, so did I. There had been a smaller throne built for me which sat directly next to his. The dress, although beautiful, was quickly becoming an annoyance, as it was tight and restricting on the top half, and increasingly difficult to sit in with the bottom half.

“Are you alright, little one?” His voice was low, almost a whisper as he leaned towards me. His tone was kind, gentle. It settled my fear slightly, the anxiety sitting in my chest waning. 

“It’s nothing really, just the dress, I’m ok.” I told him.

“If you want, you may leave and change, if you wish.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry about the party, to anyone looking, it will just seem like we’re two newlyweds sneaking off for the night.” I could feel my face heat up at his insinuation, and although that scared me a little, I really did want to get out of this dress. As much as I was uneasy with the idea that people would think those things, I was equally if not more so uncomfortable with the party as people celebrated my marriage, watching my father enjoy himself after selling off his last daughter. I nodded, and Fett rose from his seat, reaching out a hand for me to take as I rose from my own. It took me a minute but once I was out of my seat, he began to lead me towards the exit. 

As the two of us walked through the clay and stone hallways, I couldn’t help but notice how bleak the place looked. It was going to be difficult, trying to maneuver the many hallways when everything looked so similar. Fett walked with me in silence, taking me down halls and up staircases until we came upon a door.

“Here is your room, I hope it is to your liking”

“My room?’My nerves began to be replaced with sheer confusion at this. Wasn’t I as a wife, supposed to sleep in his bed? I am glad not to, as I barely know the man, but still.

“Yes, your room.” There is a small passcode box placed next to the door. Fett punches a few numbers in and the doors open. 

Although the room was made of a similar sandstone as the rest of the palace, there was a key difference. The windows. There was a set of almost wall length windows along the back wall of the room that let in all of the light from the night sky. Although the place could use more of a personal touch, it was beautiful.

“It’s beautiful, thank you Daimyo.” A small chuckle left his lips, and I couldnt help but love the sound.

“There is no need for formalities between us, little one. Call me Boba, alright?” My stomach began feeling strange at that moment. Not in a bad way, per se, but different, something I had never experienced before.

“Okay, Boba.” The two of us stoof, looking at eachother in a sort of awkward silence. Neither of us quite knew what to do I think. I couldnt help but think that I might have gotten lucky. I knew, deep down in the very back of my head, that I was going to be married off just like my sisters before me. Out of all of the people it could have been though, I was glad it was Boba. He was kind to me so far, gentle and strong. I felt as if even though I had only known him for a short time, I could trust him. 

“I’ll let you sleep. Goodnight, cyar’ika.” his frame filled the doorway as he began to leave. What the hell, I thought, and as fast as I could, stood on the very tips of my toes and gav him a peck on the cheek. 

“Goodnight, Boba,” I told him as the door shut between us. 

[sunshinetoshi]

saying and staying in love

timeskip!oikawa x reader (2.4k words)

tw: angst, cheating

disclaimer: i really don’t think oikawa would cheat on his partner. seriously. i love oikawa so much this was hard to write but if anything i fell more in love with him through this. also it doesn’t hurt to repeat but this is angst

A/N: yall i will finally shut up about my oikawa angst because it’s here!! so this whole fic has (5) parts but it’s not necessary to read all of them or read them in order. i think each part can stand on it’s own. i split them up so it’s an easier read but if you’re interested i’ll be linking the other parts at the end as they come out. i went through a lot of pain writing this like i had to stop to cry a lot so that may have put a hindrance to the execution but i had fun writing it so i wanted to share. we love pain akjsdfhnk. enjoy part one <3

"I love you. I just dont think I'm in love with you anymore.”

You gasped.

 After years of rewatching this film, you still gasped.

They can love you and still hurt you. They can love you and still leave.

Something about that phrase stayed with you since you first heard it in that movie as a young adolescent. In fact it crafted your vision of love. It almost created a shield for you, one that your friends through middle school and early high school would ridicule when you didn’t care to talk about fleeting crushes. You were called naive or a hopeless romantic, even unrealistic, when you shared what you wanted. To you it was simple, for whoever you end up with- love isn’t enough. You wanted, you needed, you deserve someone who will be irrevocably in love with you. 

You never thought you’d find that person so soon.

-----

Oikawa’s finger grazed your cheek and he had a content smile on his face. His voice was soft, relaxed. “Explain it to me.”

You chuckled and grinned at him. You tried to silence the loud beating thumping at your chest.

“Saying I love you is special. It’s beautiful. When someone tells you they love you, like your family, your friends,” you reach up from your spot in his lap and run your fingers through his hair, “Or your person..” Your smile grows when he blushes and you continue. “When they tell you they love you, you feel warm. Happy. Heavenly.

But it’s a completely different thing when someone tells you they’re in love with you. It’s deeper. You don’t just feel it with your heart or with butterflies in your tummy. It’s your whole soul. Your whole being. You feel invincible like you can handle whatever life throws at you.”

You realized you were staring at the clouds above you and you directed your eyes back to Oikawa hovering over you. “That’s what I think at least. But maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic,” you giggle and adjust your hair.

Little did you know that Oikawa was entranced. He forced himself to really listen to your words instead of getting distracted by your beauty. And he was captured by every word you said.

“So you’re saying if someone who loved you told you he was in love with you, you’d know he means it? With his whole being?” he asked.

Your eyes went wide and you ended up in a fit of laughter from the serious question. It was the first time you weren’t met with ridicule when explaining your philosophy of love, you had to laugh.

But it was music to Oikawa’s ears and it pushed him over the edge.

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out. He was met with a few seconds of silence.

“What?” Your heart was pounding louder and louder.

“I am so in love with you.” This time he said it slower. Sure of himself.

You scrambled to sit up and face him.

“Really?” you whispered.

“I am so in love with y-” he got cut off when you jumped on him. You knocked the wind out of him but he chuckled and wrapped his arms around you too.

After you two embraced for a while you pulled away and looked into his eyes. “I am in love with you too, Tooru.”

-----

You grinned at the photo in your hands. It was of you, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi at your guys’ highschool graduation. That was about a month before you and Oikawa told one another you were in love. The memories  warmed your heart.

You brought the photo with you to Oikawa who was sitting on the couch.

“Look,” you said as you showed it to him. You snuggled into his chest.

“Mm,” he took in the photo and smiled, “Wow it’s really been a while huh?”

You nodded and sighed in happiness as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey.”

You look up at him and feel your cheeks getting warm with the way he looks at you.

“Thank you.”

You grinned, “For what?”

“For everything, the two most perfect years of my life,” his finger traced your cheek and it never fails to make your heart melt. “I’m in love with you.”

Grabbing his hand you brought it to your lips and kissed it, “I’m in love with you too.”

-----

“Oh come on Iwa-chan don’t you want to find him the perfect going-away present?” you tease.

Iwaizumi pouts at the nickname most frequently used by your boyfriend. You used it only when you wanted to push his buttons, specifically when it dealt with his best friend. “I don’t think he should get a reward for finally giving me some space and moving to a different country.”

You click your tongue light-heartedly and wag your finger at him. “We both know you’re going to miss him more.”

“Liar! You’re his significant other, we both know who’s really going to miss him more.”

You laugh and pull him along to another store.

You and him decided to meet up at the shopping area quite a ways outside of town. It had way more stores than those that were closer. You wanted to get the perfect gift for Oikawa and you decided to go all in and make a huge gift basket of presents. All your handmade cards and sentimental collages were ready so you were here to buy things he could get more practical use out of when he moved to Argentina.

After a while you and Iwaizumi stopped for lunch.

“Man, shopping is exhausting,” Iwaizumi groaned sitting down.

“It’s been an hour. You literally work out longer than that every day.”

“Yeah but choosing what to buy is mentally exhausting.”

You scoff, “Hajime, you bought a gift card and said you were done.”

“Yeah but I’m watching you choose things,” he pretends to wipe sweat off his forehead and you roll your eyes.

You two continue to joke around and catch up more as you eat. 

"So how do you actually feel about him leaving?"

You look at Iwaizumi and know you don't have to keep up the always positive and supportive front with him. You sigh, "I mean I'm going to miss him like crazy. And I'm kind of scared to not have him by my side when I go to bed. I feel like I'm going to be lonely. Not to mention I'm going to be so worried about him getting situated and familiar with the area." Your words drift off a little as you let yourself think about the negatives you've been avoiding. The biggest thing was that you were going to miss him, plain and simple. But once again you push it aside and smile at Iwaizumi. "But at the same time how can I not be excited for him, proud. He's fulfilling his dreams! Playing professional volleyball, under his childhood hero no less. And more and more people are going to see what we've seen all along."

Iwaizumi grins at you, "Man you've got it bad. You really love him don't you?"

You chuckle, "More in love with him than I can comprehend."

He pretends to gag, "No, okay see you made it so much cheesier than it needed to be." But he looks at you, "Shittykawa better be treating you right. Is he?"

You nod, "Of course he is. It's been a little difficult to get some quality time with him in the past few months though, he's busy preparing everything for the move. But he's still amazing."

Before you could ramble on, Iwaizumi holds his hand out, "Okay, okay, you answered me. No need to overdo it. Hey by the way, where is the lover-boy? He didn't answer my text this morning."

"Oh he said he was going to grab lunch with his sister and Take-chan. Apparently he rang Tooru up a couple days ago and said he wanted to have a cool hangout with his cool uncle.” You and Iwaizumi laughed, both knowing Oikawa probably exaggerated what Takeru actually said.

You guys finish up your food and get ready to find a couple more goodies you wanted. After about an hour you finally checked everything off your list and you guys started walking back toward the parking structure.

"Let's get going, you'll hit traffic if we leave later."

You nod in agreement, "Sounds good, but I need to stop by the restroom."

He nods and tells you he might wander at the comic book store he saw earlier.

You go to the bathroom and are excited to get home and start wrapping your boyfriend's present. You practically skip out of the restroom to go and find Iwaizumi.

Then you realize you didn't know where the comic book store was. You decide to just walk around to find your friend. So you went on your way passing store after store.

You turned a corner and froze.

The sight confused you. Ahead of you was a table where your boyfriend sat talking to a girl.

Knowing and being with Oikawa for so long, you could care less about the girl. Your boyfriend had always had his fans and he was a natural flirt. But at the end of the day you can bring it up and you two will talk through it. Those nights always ended with him giving you a kiss and reassuring you he was only in love with you.

So no, your first reaction wasn’t jealousy. It was hurt. Seeing him here meant that he lied to you about lunch with his sister and nephew. Immediately your mind tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and came up for defenses to his lies. Maybe he did have lunch with his family. Maybe he took them here after their meal. Now that you think about it you did mention to him that you and Iwaizumi were going to hang out. Maybe Iwaizumi told him where they were shopping. Maybe Tooru wanted to spend as much time with you before he moved that he dragged his sister and nephew to see you here. Yes, maybe. And maybe this girl found him alone at this table and wanted to speak to him.

Plausible.

Those possibilities gave you enough courage to move again. So you continued to watch the two in front of you and slowly made your way closer. But as you did jealousy did start settling in. The two of them looked so giddy and entrenched in their conversation.

You got extremely irked when the girl leaned forward and kissed Oikawa's cheek. Sure, you knew there were some gutsy fans who would do that, you could list a handful of those experiences off the top of your head. But he was still your boyfriend after all, of course you’d get annoyed.

But time felt like it was slowing down as you watched them closely. Oikawa reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. He placed his hand on the back of her head and gave her a kiss on the cheek before placing another kiss on her forehead.

Your stomach dropped.

No, there was no way. That couldn’t have happened.

But you wracked your brain and this time there was no way to explain this. He kissed her. It was real. How can you deny it when you just saw it?

"Oh my God." You realized who the girl was. She was an old girlfriend of Oikawa's from high school. Your mind went dizzy with questions. Your breaths got unsteady and you shuffled back the way you came, desperately looking around for Iwaizumi.

He was nowhere to be found. You scramble to get your phone out and quickly type out a text to Iwaizumi. But you quickly delete the text that was filled with panic. You instead ask him to meet you at the bathroom you two parted ways at because you got lost.

You tried to steady your breath as you made your way to the restrooms. Your mind was jumbled as hell but you forced it to process it all, fast. You made a few decisions on the spot, disregarding how rash they might be.

"How did you get lost? The comic book store is right down there," Iwaizumi chuckled as he approached you, motioning the opposite direction of where you wandered off. And it stung a little, what would have happened if you went in that direction and not the one you did?

With your breath under control you fake a smile at him, "Just a superpower I guess."

He studied you, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" It sounded a little too cheerful so you sigh and improvise. "Well not really. Mind if we go home now? My tummy really hurts."

"Yikes, it was probably that thing you grabbed at lunch. I told you it looked funny."

"Yeah, probably."

He leads you to the parking garage and drops you off at your car door.

"Alright, drive safe."

"Thanks again for coming with me today." You meant it. You don't know what you'd do if you didn't have a friend with you, waiting on you.

"Of course! I know Oikawa is going to love his present. Well, I'll probably see you at the going-away dinner." He waved and began walking to his car door in the parking spot next to yours, unaware of how much his comments hurt now.

"Wait, Hajime." You grab onto his jacket sleeve and he turns to you. "You consider him to be your best friend, right?" You couldn't bring yourself to say his name.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Then can you promise me something?" You willed yourself not to cry but you could start to feel a tickle in the back of your throat.

Iwaizumi looked at you patiently.

"Watch out for him. And no matter what, be there for him. Promise you'll take care of him. Can you do that for me?" You had more you wanted to say but you didn’t trust your voice to stay steady if you went on.

You were grateful he didn't press and simply promised to it all.

"Thank you. You're a great friend." And you meant it. Hajime had been a great friend not just to Oikawa but to you. And you wanted to kick yourself. One of the rash decisions included doing this, saying goodbye to Iwaizumi. You squeeze his arm and quickly head back to your car.

The whole drive home you kept your mind on anything other than Oikawa. You needed to for your sake and for those on the road. When you safely pulled into your parking garage you broke down. You didn't know you could cry this hard and you were honestly a little scared by it. You hated how much your body shook and how utterly broken your heart felt.

He cheated on you.

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five

[helianthus-tarot]

Pick-a-card: Why are you feeling drawn to them?

Hi. I got a request to do this topic so here it is. This is a short reading that will explore why you are drawn to whoever you are thinking about and what connection it may be. Only read this if you really have an unexplainable attraction toward someone. And I only made 4 piles because I’m sleepy as fuc so pls ignore grammar or spelling mistakes I expect it to be worse lol thank.

Aand I just made an instagram! Do follow me there for mini pick a card readings and random tarot messages and pretty graphics (i try) 🥺💗. 

My instagram: https://www.instagram.com/helianthustarot/

...

Disclaimer: Click Here!

Instructions;

Center yourself and focus on the topic. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to, as if it is calling out to you. Try to not choose too many (less than 2). Trust your intuition & read the message under the cut.

May the message resonate. See you in the next reading!

Visit my tumblr for more readings!

... 

PILE 1

2 of Wands Rx, 4 of Cups, The High Priestess, 10 of Swords

The person in your mind represents what you seek. I am not saying they are what you seek, as in, romantically, because there are no love cards here so I can’t really tell. It could be that they simply show you what you want; what you want in a person, what you want in yourself, or what you want in your life. They might also represent what you don’t have, or that you wish you had. It could be their qualities, their mindset, their energy, their focus- whatever it is. This then got translated into an unexplainable feeling of attraction. There might also this wonder that you feel when you look at them. I’m getting that your energy is much darker than theirs, like you are coming out of darkness. And perhaps that’s one of reasons why you feel attracted to them; they in some way feel like fresh air. Perhaps deep down you want a fresh start, you want that optimism, you want to be able to feel a sense of purpose, you want something more than just what you have been experiencing. And this person just embodies those things.

I didn’t ask about their personality, but I’m getting that they might come off as someone who knows what they want, they look as if they are living their purpose or that they are connected to their soul. Quite similar to The Fool’s energy. Lighthearted, yet passionate at times. Like someone who believes in their ability to achieve something bigger than themselves, without much fear or self-doubt.

There is something you are feeling unsatisfied about, which has been clinging onto your energy, to the point that it obstructs you from being able to connect to your soul’s calling- those desires which can bring in the feeling of fulfillment. It makes you feel a bit jaded, and exhausted as well.  There is a message for you to go within and ask yourself what exactly can spark that joy in you, what can make you feel satisfied, what you are passionate about, what your soul’s purpose, what you want more in life. Get connected to your inner knowing and highest self. The answers are within you. Shift through the pain, the exhaustion, and you will find yourself again. You too have limitless potential, you too can ask for things that are good for you.  

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PILE 2

4 of Swords, 5 of Cups, Ace of Wands, The Hierophant, Queen of Pentacles

Does this person give off a mature, comforting, dependable vibe? Perhaps a bit nurturing as well? Do they make you believe in your potential? Do they make you feel safe to explore your potential? It feels like they have this effect on you; the words they say, their mannerism, their work ethic, the way they manage their own life, etc- seems to inspire you to want to do something with your life. It is also possible that they change or challenge the way you see things as well, they make you want to get up and do things, they make you want to expand and explore, they make you want to believe in yourself; whether they do it intentionally or not. At the same time, they also feel safe and comforting to you, like you can let go and be vulnerable about your concerns. It feels a bit like home, like someone who can take care of you especially when you are sad, and bring your energy back up- make you believe again.

The Hierophant actually represents the lesson they bring in. So perhaps one of the reasons why you feel drawn to them is because you have been seeking someone who can guide you, someone who can nurture you and show you the way out of whatever challenge you experience. Especially if you haven’t had someone like this in your life before. This also feels like a mentor. The Hierophant could also represent the possibility that you might need some form of structure and guidance in your life, and this person has those things, so you end up feeling drawn to them.

I think this can be a stable or consistent relationship. If you want to pursue it as a romantic relationship, just keep in mind the possibility that at some point of the relationship you might need to grow into yourself and learn to be secure within yourself (if you haven’t); just to balance it out, so it can be a give and take relationship. If this is not exactly an attraction you can keep in your life (for whatever taboo reason), to manage the attraction- simply acknowledge the possibility that at this time you might be seeking guidance to restructure your life and to believe in your potential and your ability to realize it. It is fine to receive it from an external source, but it will also be beneficial for you to learn to nurture it from within so you can access it whenever you need to- which will also allow you to keep your independence.    

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PILE 3

The Sun, 2 of Cups, Page of Wands, Ace of Cups

This is probably the pile that people who ask about love want to get lol. Why you are feeling drawn to them? They just have that positive influence on you. Honestly with The Sun, there is overwhelming happiness. Perhaps that’s what you feel around them. It could also be that you feel much more yourself when you are around them. When you are in a conversation with them, you feel seen and accepted. You feel like you can be yourself. You guys can also inspire each other, celebrate each other’s achievement, just… simply being a positive influence in each other’s lives. It’s as if they are on the same level as you are, you might feel like you can work well together. Conversations between you guys don’t feel forced.

Page of Wands comes in as the lesson, it actually fell with 3 of Swords and Knight of Wands. So I think this connection is that hope after pain. If you have lost hope about finding a genuine connection, then this can be something to challenge that belief. Page of Wands is someone who can see possibilities and stay optimistic despite the fact that they are in the middle of the desert. They also represent good news coming in, something that can allow you to expand your life, to explore and go after your soul’s calling/desire. So honestly, this connection seems to be that new beginning, that possibility that you can try to explore. No guarantee that it won’t come with challenges, but honestly you wont know how good it can be if you don’t try.  

I think they are your soulmate, if you believe in soulmate. Whether it is meant to be romantic or not, whether it is meant to last or not, that depends on your specific situation as this is a general reading. It is possible for this connection to be emotionally fulfilling- there is a possibility of emotional abundance since you got Ace of Cups.

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PILE 4

The Lovers, Strength, King of Wands, Judgement

This person is meant to enter your life. Hell, with The Lovers, Judgement and how the Wheel of Fortune fell twice (but I didn’t take it ha ha because there were a bunch of cards with it), I mean, this is obviously fated in some way. Now, of course the significance of it varies, depending on your specific situation, as this is a general reading. This person is most likely your soulmate, heavy soulmate energy here, whether romantically or platonically. If you met them after you had ended a stage of your life, then this person could signify the new life that you are venturing into.

Something is similar within yourself and them. You might have gone through similar experience, similar pain, similar challenge- something, that when you look at them you can recognize that thing exists in them as well. That’s what draws you to them. So in a way, they are your mirror. You might see some parts of yourself in them, and them you. That companionship, that kinship. There is something spiritual about this as well. Since they can act like your mirror, they could show you some of your flaws and you might want to work on what needs to be worked on when that happens. But eh I’m not really getting negative energy, just common things that come with spiritual connections.

King of Wands represents the lesson they bring into your life. I think they will show you- your desire to expand; be more, do more, live life to the fullest, act on your potential. Inspiring. You get inspirations just by being around this person and the message might be that you should consider those possibilities, if there is any that can be acted on, then seize the opportunity. Make things happen. It feels like the connection can push you both to be the best version of yall that yall can be, because The Lovers can also mean highest self; choosing what is good for your highest self, living your truth. If this connection becomes something more, then you guys can be a powerful duo who inspire each other to live your best life.

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[mxchellesworld]

Attraction and Repulsion 

Harry Styles x Reader

Synopsis; Where Harry is too much of an asshole for a proper relationship but too good in bed for you to leave 

Warnings; mean!harry, arguments, name calling, smut, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, impact play, choking, 

a/n; harry styles fans come get yall juice!! ok i wont lie this kinda seems all over the place but i like it anyways. hope yall enjoy and please send some feedback:)

***

You thought it was real funny. It was absolutely hilarious how the whole world saw Harry as a sweet lad who wears big trousers and has fun nails. But you saw him for who he really was. Harry Styles was mean. Plain and simple. 

But you loved it. 

And as much as you tried to deny it, you both knew it was true. You were like magnets. When you weren’t absolutely repulsed by one another, starting an argument, you were wrapped up in each others sheets feeling the strongest attraction you’d ever felt for another person. 

You were always stuck in a limbo of back and forth. Arguments and name calling over the phone leading to quick hang ups and the eventual knock on the door signaling he was there to deal with you the only way he knew how to put you in your place. 

You were drawn to him like a moth to flame. And just like you, he was also too stubborn to admit that he’d want anyone else but you. No matter how cocky he got flaunting the fact that he could get any person in the world with just a smile and wink, he knew he’d never actually do it. 

Under all the petty acts and insults there was the smallest bit of adoration he held for you and you only. 

_ 

You had been lounging around your apartment when your phone chimed. It was one of your girlfriends sending you a link to a newspaper article. You hadn’t bothered to look at the title on the message before clicking on it and seeing the large cover photo on your screen. 

Right there Harry and some model getting cozy after his last show. Big bold letters on the teen magazine reading ‘HARRY STYLES AND NEW BAE???’. You audibly scoffed. 

It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend so you couldn’t really do much about it, you thought ignoring the small sting in your chest. Shaking off the feeling you skimmed the rest of the article then replied to the message, “she is kinda hot, maybe he’ll give me her number lol” 

With that you threw your phone on the other side of the couch and started to get up. It was 3pm a little too early in your book to start drinking at home and especially too early to start letting him ruin your day. 

Maybe it was time to start looking at other people. You were hot and single, living in a big city with other hot singles, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to find someone to get in a stable relationship with or at the bare minimum a good fuck for the night. 

So you did what anyone else does and picked up your phone once again, going straight to the app store. Right on the front page was tinder and just for good measure you added bumble. Making the accounts were easy enough but selecting the pictures for your profile was tricky. You wanted a good amount of selfies and body shots. Cute pictures but also something risky enough to catch the eye. 

Soon enough you were already swiping and giggling to yourself about the future prospects you had lined up. Meanwhile in a city about a few hundred miles from you Harry was sitting with a frown on his scowl on his face in the same predicament you were in earlier that day. 

He was in his hotel room packing up and getting ready to head back home when his phone chimed. He looked over to see if it was his manager or someone from crew with any updates on departure times however it was one of his close friends. 

At first he was expecting a sports update or an invitation to go to a bar when he got back but instead it was a screenshot of your tinder profile. When had you gotten that? he thought to himself. 

It wasn’t like he could get mad since he knew he didn’t treat you the best. But that was just your dynamic, deep down you both cared for each other and even then it made for the best sex of his life. 

Looking back down at the glowing screen he swiped through the few screenshots he was sent. Various pictures of you out with friends. The one that got him was a picture of you in the bathtub, your body was covered by the porcelain yet just enough of your chest just was showing in the mirror as you gave the camera your best sultry look. 

Yet the real kicker was the bio where you included him in your top artists. He scoffed and shook his head, biting his lip as he clicked out from the messages app. Instead he called up his manager to get him on the fastest plane back home. If the blood wasn’t rushing to his face he knew he’d be hard as a rock but for now he’d save that frustration for when he saw you. 

_

You knew tinder hookups were easy to get but you didn’t know just how easy. After spending the day scrolling away, putting your phone down for food and subtle chores you landed a ‘date’, which you really knew was ‘lets get tacos before we fuck on my couch’. 

You had planned to meet at 8pm at some restaurant by your house. At 6:30 you started to get ready slowly, taking your time in the shower, shaving, the works. You had your music connected to a speaker getting yourself excited for the night. 

Who wouldn’t be? You needed this. This was your time to get all dolled up and get to cum from someone other than yourself or the man who makes the vein in your forehead pop when you think about him. 

You put on your sweet smelling lotion and head to your closet looking for an outfit. It was starting to get warm so you settled for a black t-shirt dress that fell to mid thigh with tan heeled booties. You pulled out a jean jacket to put on top in case it was windy.

After finishing your hair and makeup, it was nearing 7:30 and you were back on your couch fixing up the pillows and picking up any misplaced items in case the night led you back to your place. Suddenly you heard a knock on your door, the same hard 3 rasps which only meant one person. 

Your heels clicked on the hard wood as you made your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it halfway, “What do you want Harold,” you said unamused. 

“You look pretty,” he said pushing past you, ignoring the annoyance in your tone. 

“Wish I could say the same about you. Now what do you want? I’m busy and I have to leave soon,” you said rolling your eyes. 

He took a seat on your previously neat couch, spreading his legs and putting his arms up on the back. The way he looked you up and down sent chills up your spine, “What did you get a date that quick? The internet works wonders doesn’t it love”, he said rolling his neck. 

“How did you know abo- actually I don’t care. As a matter of fact I do have a date and I’m meeting him soon so if you don’t mind leaving,” you said picking up your jacket and purse, “Why don’t you call that one girl from your show? She probably misses you.” 

He let out a short laugh before pushed on his knees to stand back up, “Ah I see what this is. You’re jealous and you think going on a little date with some nobody would hurt me.” The cockiness was just seeping out of him. 

“Pull your head out of your a-,” you started before he cut you off. 

“No no you’re gonna listen to me angel. We may not be together but you belong to me. No one else can ever touch you or fuck you as well as I can,” he said leaning in to whisper in your ear. 

It was almost sad how easily he could have you crumbling. Just then your phone dinged. It was a message from the guy, Danny? You couldn’t remember at this point. 

“Answer it sweatpea, tell him you can’t make it.” 

You were really debating it. On one side this could be your chance to finally tell Harry to fuck off but on the other you knew it would be hard to replace him and you weren’t even sure you completely wanted to. That was a whole other layer of emotions to dig through. 

You looked back up at Harry, one of his curls falling into his eyes which were filled with lust. The way his tongue peeked out to slip over his pink lips gave you the answer you needed. 

“Fuck,” you whispered unlocking your phone. Quickly you typed out a half ass apology about your sister needing you to babysit, even though she lived out of state, he didn’t need to know. 

After you hit send your phone was quickly plucked from your grasp and pushed into Harry’s pocket. You didn’t think much about it when his lips pressing onto yours was acting as a great distraction. 

He pulled away lightly mumbling a “taste like strawberries”. If you weren’t so turned on you would’ve giggled. 

You moaned into his mouth pulling him by his loose button up shirt into your bedroom. It was a routine you had almost perfected at this point with little stumbling or need to grab onto the walls as a guide to make sure neither of you hit any corners. 

Your lips never left each others in the feverish mess of kisses. Each one making you grow needier and needier. Your fingers worked quickly in trying to get the buttons on his shirt undone. You felt his warm ones wrap around yours halting your movements. 

“Not so fast, you think I’m gonna let you off easy for what you did today?” 

You huffed out, “You did the same-”, again he cut you off. 

“I get to do whatever I want because you know who I am,” he finished trailing his thumb over your bottom lip, slowly tugging it down. All you could do was nod. 

“Say it then.” 

“Harry Styles,” you whispered out. 

You could see his pupils get bigger with each syllable. It was his favorite thing, the power, the dominance. He got off on his own name. But so did you, the thought alone made you clench your thighs as you were in the moment. 

His hand came up and tapped on your cheek, a small implication of what you knew he could do, “You’re gonna have to be louder than that lovie. Don’t worry though I’ll let you try again later.”

He backed you up until your legs hit the bed, pushing you down. You slowly crawled back, pulling your jacket and dress off as he worked on his belt and pants. You made quick work of kicking off your boots and settled into the plush sheets. 

“Hurry up Styles. I think Danny could’ve made me cum at least twice now,” you said sliding a hand down to your panties. That move would bite you in the ass but the risk was worth it. 

You let out gasps at the touch of your fingertips, moving your hips, doing anything to put on a show and hopefully have him give you what you wanted quicker. 

He eagerly got on the bed, trapping you under his knees. His hands quickly ripped yours away from where you needed them most, pinning them over your head. He leaned down, face inches from yours until you shared the same breathe. 

“You just want to be punished don’t you? Don’t worry I’ll help you get it through that stupid little slutty brain of yours,” he finished with a sadistic smile. 

You nodded frantically moaning out pleases. His hand came down on your cheek, the chill of his rings pressed against the now warm skin on your face. His nails raked down until his hand was snuggly hugging your neck. 

You tilted your head back giving him more room to squeeze and mark as he pleased, “Please Harry, want you to fuck me already.” 

He tutted his lips giving your neck one last squeeze before he pulled away. “I think we should work on your patience,” he said moving down to your spread legs. 

His warm hands pulled on the lace fabric on your hips, scoffing at the visible wet patch, “Don’t tell me this was all for old Danny-boy.” 

“No Harry its all for you,” you mewled as he let his fingers swipe through your folds. It was evil how he was leisurely propped up between your legs teasingly circling your aching bud, switching between blowing on it and nipping at it. 

You already felt the tears springing in the corners of your eyes. So little was doing so much. Just a little more and you could cum right then and there. And he knew it too. 

“Oh you better not cum. I’m not gonna be very forgiving if you do,” he trailed off almost laughing. He never let up, quick circles on your bud making your body tense up. 

“Ple- no.. oh god Harry,” you whined out. You felt your juices gushing out of you as you reached your peak. He never let up on his motions, going even faster on your overstimulated clit. 

“God you’re so pathetic. Such a whore you just had to cum,” he punctuated with a slap right on your pussy. 

At this point you were sobbing. Your head was swimming in the pleasure. You tried to apologize but the words weren’t coming together, just broken whimpers and mixes of sorry’s. 

His hand came down on your sensitive cunt two more times, each one had you trying to close your legs but he was quick to keep them open with a bruising grip. 

“Please.. Harry.”

“Please what?” he said taking in your shivering frame.

“Please fuck me! Want you to cum inside me, mark me so everyone knows i’m yours!” you spoke out breathlessly.

Quickly he flipped your over, pulling your hips up so that your pussy was on display for him. He groaned as he swiped the tip of his weeping pink cock over your already puffy folds.

With a long stroke he filled you completely. Your nerves were on fire and he hadn’t even started. His rough hands grabbed onto your hips for leverage on his thrusts.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Such a good little whore just for me to ruin,” he gritted out. He kept a steady pace, quick and deep making sure to hit your sweet spot each time.

Your nails were digging into the pillows for dear life. Eyes shut closed as your mouth fell in silent screams and jumbled phrases of pleasure. The only thing on your mind was HarryHarryHarry.

“Wanna cum again.. oh my god.. Plesse Harry fill me up! I need to feel it,” you said arching your back further. You felt each vein slide along your spongy walls making sure to clench around him and milk him for all he was worth.

His grip on your never let up. He let his hand come down on your ass cheek. Once again the rings contrasting the heat radiating off of you, “That’s it cum for me baby. I want you to scream my name when you do. Can you do that love? Shit , tell me who fucks you this good? Who’s cum do you want spilling inside you?”

You all but screamed a “Harry Styles” letting your neighbors know just who was with you that night, nights before, and nights to come.

The sweet noises and screams of his name had Harry’s cock pulsing inside you, ready to burst at any moment.

One look down at where you connected and he was sent right to heaven. Your cute little pussy creaming right on his cock had him shooting his load deep inside you.

You both gasped and groaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim. He stilled his motions and you all but collapsed onto your bed.

You felt him lean down once again, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear before whispering, “You think Danny could’ve done that?”

[llocallesbian]

line without a hook | k.s

NO KATHY SLANDER WILL BE TOLERATED OVER HERE. nope. she deserves the absolute world.

“Y/l/n.” You answered the phone groggy, glancing at the clock. The blurry red lights blared in your face as you sighed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hey, y/n. I was just calling you to see if you could let Eliot know he left his wallet at home. I figured he was in a rush when he got the call a little while ago and he’s not answering bu-” You eyes finally focused on the time, squinting at them. 5:52 am.

“Kathy, what are you talking about?” You could hear a little commotion in the back, like she moved a pan or something.

“Is there not a case or a victim or-”

“I didn’t get a call Kathy and I always get the call first. So no, there isn’t a case.” There was a pause on the other line and you could definitely hear her scoffing through the phone. “I’m pretty sure he just went out for something-”

“Or with someone.” She finished for you, although that’s not what you were going to say. “What time did Elliot leave work yesterday?” You sat up in your bed, fully awake now.

“Kathy, I can’t-”

“Y/n, please.” Her voice cracked and you didnt need to see her to know her lip was quivering. You tried not to crack. Elliot was someone you worked with, he was your friend and you loved him but that didn’t mean you could lie to Kathy. Kathy and you were great friends, occasionally going out, helping her with the kids. It was great to have someone as a friend you didn’t work with. It was refreshing. You couldn’t lie to her.

“He and Olivia left around 6. I think they said something about going to the bar.” You told her what you recalled hearing and she sighed. Kathy leaned against her kitchen counter, the phone clutched tightly in her right hand.

“Yeah, well, he didn’t get home till around 1 and bow he’s leaving early and lying-” She paused, wiping the tears that were slowly falling down her face as she came to realization.

“No, Kathy. He wouldn’t cheat on you. Especially with Olivia. They’re best friends, that’s all.” You tried to reassure her but she wasn’t having it. Running a hand through her hair, she scoffed.

“Yeah, Right.” Then the line went dead. You looked down at the phone before tossing it on the bed and flopping back down. You laid there for a moment, contemplating on whether or not to go back to bed. You groaned loudly as you pushed the covers off of you, getting up and walking towards your closet. “Goddamn Stabler!”

“Y/n?” Kathy opened the door to find you, dressed in sweats and a big bag of McDonalds. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re friends, Kathy. I’ll be here for you, even at 6 in the morning.” You took in her appearance, an old white shirt with small pair of plaid shorts. Her hair devilish, like her hand had run through it a million times. Her eyes were slightly puffy, face was a shade of light pink, she looked heartbroken. Beautiful. But heartbroken. “I even brought breakfast.” You held up the bag and she opened the door wider, letting you in before closing it.

“You didn’t have to-” You shook your head, heading towards the couch.

“Don’t even do that.” You glanced at her before placing the bag on the table and taking a seat on the sofa.

“Now come on, come eat.” She smiled slightly before taking a seat next to you. You had begun eating in silence, you occasionally looked at her, thinking of something to say.

“I want to believe he wouldn’t do it but the truth is, I don’t even know my husband anymore.” She sighed, placing the breakfast sandwich she was eating bag down on the paper. “I love him, I will always love Elliot but I deserve better. I want someone who is there for me, I need someone I can depend on and Elliot just isn’t there anymore. He loves her.” The tears welled up in her eyes and you reached out to her, wanting to comfort her but she shook her head, pushing your hand down. “I don’t need pity, y/n. Okay, i’m not sad, i’m mad. I’m angry.”

“Kathy-”

“I’m angry that I stayed this long. Angry that I was so blind and i’m tired. So tired. I have no one and I-” You grabbed her hands, leading her to face you. You watched the tears stream down her face momentarily before grabbing her head. Your thumbs coming up to brush the tears from her cheeks.

“You have me, Kathy. I’ll be here for whatever. You wanna scream, cry, yell, break stuff, i’m here. You wanna work things out with Elliot. I’m here for you. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here. I love you, okay?” She nodded, her eyes tightly closed as she enjoyed the comfort of actually being touched. Her eyes fluttered open, the small smile the danced on your lips being the first thing she noticed. Then the adoration in your eyes, the way you looked at her like she was the only person that mattered. Her eyes flickered down to your lips then back up as she leaned in slowly. You breath hitched as she came closer, so close that you could feel her breath on your face.

Next thing that happened was her lips on yours. Kissing you softly. It stayed like this for a few moments. Her hands rested on your knees while yours stayed on her cheeks. Your eyes fluttered open as her tongue swiped across your bottom lip. You wanted to grant her access. You wanted to explore her. But this was wrong. You pulled back, shaking your head. You missed the warmth of her lips. “Kathy, no.” You whispered as you looked into her eyes, her eyes that seemed to be all the colors of the ocean at once.

“Y/n, pl-” You heard a door upstairs open resulting in you jumping back quickly, so quick you almost fell off the sofa.

“You’re hurting and vulnerable, it was an accident.” You rushed out in one breath before Maureen came downstairs, a grumpy look on her face. “Hey there babes, I brought you guys breakfast.” She smiled softly at you before coming over to give you a hug, you held her close for a moment before joking. “You have to stop growing, practically taller than me.” She chuckled before going through the bag.

“You have to get to work?” You nodded, glancing over at her mother who was looking down at her lap.

“Yeah, kiddo. I’ll see you soon though.” She nodded obviously believing your lie. “See you, Kathy.” You mumbled, not wanting to make things more awkward. Quickly rushing out to your car, you got in and slammed the door. “I am so fucking screwed.”

am i gonna make this a series? hell yeah. because hear me out, yall should write about kathy. also there is probably a bunch of errors in this but yeah. i hope yall are doing good

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Pomegranate Seeds 3

well we got some BIG projecting going on here. if yall didn’t know i had mommy issues before, you sure as fuck do now 😂😂😂

Warnings: insecure Jask, allusions to verbally abusive/manipulative parents, lmao rebellious jask, good ole miscommunication between jask and geralt - but solved quickly, lol swearing

___________

Letter after letter reached Jaskier in the underworld, and time after time, he destroyed them. He didn’t tell Geralt, telling himself it was because the ruler of the underworld had more important things to deal with. He didn’t want to admit he was scared Geralt would send him packing. 

Eventually, Demeter resorted to threats. Threats of famine that she followed through on. She underestimated just how like her Jaskier was, though. He didn’t dignify her tantrum with a response. 

When she sent messengers, he started to worry.

He told Charon to alert him, not Geralt, if another god or goddess came to visit, even one of the more senior demigods. He didn’t want to take any chances. Geralt didn’t need to know anyway. 

But Geralt noticed something was off.

Jaskier would say he was tired, or he couldn’t perfect a specific verse of the song he was writing. Usually it worked, but it was only ever a salve, never a cure, for Geralt’s suspicions. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Geralt cradled him in his lap, lounging in the now lavish courtyard under the pomegranate tree Jaskier had brought back from the brink of death. 

Jaskier nuzzled closer, “I’m just ti-”

“No, I asked you what’s wrong,” Geralt insisted, giving him a gentle squeeze and placing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“It’s nothing,” Jaskier lied, hoping the sigh he accidentally let slip didn’t register, “You don’t need to worry about it.” 

Geralt hummed and went quiet for a moment before he curled a bit tighter around Jaskier and whispered, “Do you want to go home?” 

Jaskier scrambled up, sputtering and terrified, “Did she get to you?!” When Geralt just looked at him with an unreadable expression he started to panic, feeling hot tears welling up in his eyes as he did his best to keep his voice steady, “Don’t send me back. Please, Geralt. Anything but that.”

“I’d never,” Geralt soothed, standing and hesitantly reaching for Jaskier’s hand. 

He eyed the offer warily, sniffing and trying to calm himself, “Then why would you say that?”

“I thought you were unhappy. You’ve been… acting strange.” 

Jaskier ignored Geralt’s outstretched hand, choosing to wrap himself around Geralt’s torso and bury his face in the crook of his neck, “I’m sorry. I’ll be better tomorrow. It’s just, uhm. I’m just a bit off.” 

Geralt instinctively held him tighter, “Jaskier I want you to be happy, not ‘better’.”

Jaskier just hummed, swallowing back his unshed tears. 

“Who were you talking about?”

For a moment, Jaskier had to remind himself to breathe before he could respond, “Hm?”

“You asked if someone had ‘gotten’ to me?”

Tears spilled regardless of Jaskier’s best efforts, “My mother. She wants me to come back. She’s been sending letters and messengers.”

“And you don’t want to?” 

“Never,” Jaskier insisted, “This is the most freedom I've ever had. I don’t have to hide in the treetops to feel any sense of calm, I get to make decisions, I make things grow when I want, for whom I want.”

Geralt ran a hand over his hair, resting it at the base of his skull and brushing his thumb through the little hairs behind his ear, “You don’t ever have to leave. I love you. I want you here.” 

“I love you too,” Jaskier whispered, “I’m just scared.” 

Geralt gently pushed him back just enough to look into his eyes, “There’s a way you could stay forever…”

The hopeful glint in his eyes told Geralt everything he needed to know, so he continued, “If you eat even one pomegranate seed you will be tethered to the underworld. You can stay and do whatever pleases you. But it is irreversible. One bite and your fate is forever tied to this place.” 

Jaskier thought about it for a moment, searching Geralt’s eyes for something, anything, that could make the decision for him, “I could never leave?” 

“Only if the both of us willed it and only for a short time,” Geralt explained, tenderly wiping his tears away, “I could never keep you here if you were miserable. Try as I might to think about anything else, your happiness consumes much of my thoughts.” 

“Hmm,” Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s touch, turning his head to kiss his palm, “Do I need to decide right now?”

Geralt kissed his forehead, “Of course not. It’s just an option.”

“Okay,” Jaskier sighed, curling his fingers around the robes cascading down Geralt’s back, “I like it - the idea. I just… I want to take my time?” 

“Absolutely.”

-

Time wasn’t something Jaskier was allowed apparently. 

The two of them were just climbing out of a lovely bath when a chattering skeleton announced the arrival of a visitor. 

Demeter stood in the throne room with her back turned to them, examining one of the glowing diamonds when they entered. She looked so small, almost insignificant. Her hair was in an intricate braid, she wore a cream toga, adorned with gold that made her look more like a savior than the horror she really was. 

Jaskier gripped Geralt’s hand tightly and pulled them to a halt, knowing very well Demeter wanted him to speak first. It was a stand off he was familiar with. If he spoke first she had the upper hand, hearing his tone and picking apart his words. She always knew how particular her son was with words. 

“Julek. It’s time to go.”

Her voice echoed off the stone walls as she calmly stated her order, not even bothering to turn and look at him. 

Jaskier took a deep breath and squeezed Geralt’s hand, not looking at him for fear of crying, “No.” 

“Playtime is over. You have duties. The humans did not prepare for you to leave. They’re calling it winter,” she snorted as if the idea was as ridiculous as standing on your head in a temple. 

Jaskier grit his teeth, feeling the rage bubble up in his chest, “I don’t care.”

“Clearly,” She rounded on him with a condescending look of disappointment, “It doesn’t matter if you care. They’re still your responsibility.” 

Jaskier took a step forward, “A responsibility you assigned me. You fixed it before, fix it now.”

“I cant.” 

“Tough shit.”

Jaskier wasn’t sure how any of his words were coming out without sounding absolutely hysterical, but he was glad for it. He glared at her, daring her to try again while internally he was scrambling for a plan.

“For this particular magic, I need you. Seasons will take more work than a year round harvest, but you have set them off nonetheless.” Demeter’s voice was softer than usual, though Jaskier didn’t miss the incincerity of her words. She’d raised him. He knew her, probably better than she knew herself for all the introspection she refused to take part in, and he knew she was playing games. 

"Oh? Are you no longer capable?" Jaskier laughed bitterly as he turned to walk toward the courtyard, "The great goddess of plenty and harvest can't sustain what she's built? Unfortunate. I am good at what I do here. I am so good at caring about the souls that end up in our audience-"

"Our!?"

"DONT interrupt me," Jaskier shouted, turned and stomped his heel into the ground making vines burst forth from the marble beneath them, wrapping around Demeter's waist and mouth, "I have also found I'm rather adept at torture when necessary. I love it down here! I love being able to right wrongs and show the righteous to Elysium. I love having a purpose to my actions, not just being someone's unappreciated trophy! And I love Geralt. He treats me so well and loves me so sweetly and wants only to make me happy. Nothing about your 'seasons' and 'bringing life' interests me in the slightest, Demeter. Because that's not who I am. I am rage and justice and I am to be feared, not manipulated. Take your failing crops and go." Jaskier waved a hand dismissively and the vines disappeared back into the ground. 

Without looking back, he strode toward the pomegranate tree in the center of the garden, plucking a fruit from the nearest branch and turning to glare at his mother. Geralt was hot on his heels, glancing between the two but keeping quiet. Jaskier had told him he wanted to confront her himself, without her thinking he’d been told what to say. So Geralt stood by and seethed. 

Jaskier pulled a knife from the holster in Geralt’s belt and sliced a nice section out of the pomegranate. 

“Don’t you dare.” Demeter snarled, standing at the edge of the courtyard. 

Jaskier smirked and peeled the white fiber from the blood red seeds with a casual sigh, “I don’t think your opinion matters much here.” 

Jaskier flipped the knife in the air and caught it by the blade, maintaining eye contact with Demeter as he handed it back to Geralt.

“Are you sure?” Geralt’s voice was just a whisper as he took the blade.

Jaskier picked a particularly dark red seed from it’s home and turned to look at him, “There’s absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be, my love.” 

With that he popped the seed in his mouth. 

[jennyyyeeettt]

stuff i learned more on the internet than irl

get a drink

you are unique, you are a part of the universe.

don't change, unless it's for the better and it makes you feel good

real friends care about you

what you need is more important than what you want

you write your own story, don't let others decide for you

there's no shame in being who you truely are, whoever doesn't respect that doesn't deserve your time

be proud of the little things you did bec. 5% is better than 0%

nothing lasts forever, so choose to "seize the day"//carpe diem boys//

if you are not where you are try to get there with plans and imaginatioins

imagine ur best self and show up as them

nothing is wrong with you, you are loved. bec there are many people in the world u didn't meet. and there's no way you are not someone's type

you are not ugly, u r just bored of ur face bec u see it everyday since you've been born and u hearedthe comments on it

stay nice or quiet, everyone has their battles

no mattar how much u think you are fucked up rn, months later things will change and u will forget about it

grief doesnt go away with time, time just teaches us to "deal with it"

just bec it doesn't hurt anyone, doesn't mean it's ok

karma is real, she just takes time and sometimes works secretly

romantic love isn't more important than platonic love

just bec someone is doing it, does't mean you HAVE to

if the story doesn't fit you, change something about it

being "private" is not the same as being "secretive" in relationships

before jumping to conclusions, ask and discuss, -with a good, none threatening tone-

love changes a person, even if it's not quickly

not being productive doesn't mean being worthless

being in a slump is not being lazy

everyone is an addict to something

treat yourself like you would a child every now and then and be a better parent to yourself

you are gorgeous anyways, so don't care what others say

if you fail, try again! it does't define you, it's not a part of u, it's like a game.. when a game says "game over" you just reply it

labels are so overrated, don't stress about it.. u do u

distance is a bitch, unless its distancing from toxic ppl and behaviours

love is not selfish love is understanding and comprimizing

saying i love you is not dangerous when its used with the right people

words of affermation ACTUALLY IS IMPORTANT

a "hopeless case" is never "hopeless"

the person they called "useless", made someone's day and helped them through a tough life

life is short, take risks, tell the people that you love how much they mean to you. no time for being fake.

idk if i already said that but fake it till u make it fr fr bro

push yourself bec no one else will, but also be kind to yourself -very difficult balance- IF you read all that, i hope you at least saw a thing that was helpful, I learned them literally from the internet (friends and communities and all) and I've been doing that for the past 2 years and they work with me, i didnt realize them at first but being a bit of a self critic i realized these stuff, even people now started to point it out. me and one of my fav internet bsff realized how we changed over the years and talking to their mom she also noticed it and its just so great to see how we both affected eachother and encouraged eachother to be better ... nothing is better than to find a home in yourslef .. doesnt mean it doesnt get tough sometimes, doesnt mean that i dont struggle with anything, but we are all humans, overall all we do is change and grow and its either to the best or not, it gets hard, but good relationships fixes the broken parts over time .. im so grateful for my family aka my internet besties :3 its 5 30 am and i need to sleep .. got a bit emotional lol :') hope yall have a good day/night take care

[andromedasstarship]

in the stars - chapter 5

pairing - aaron hotchner x reader 

warnings - canon-typical criminal minds violence, stalking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, drinking, angst

summary -  “Please,” he said, staring you straight in the eyes. “Don’t go.” 

a/n - i really love this chapter! cant wait to hear what yall think :DD also for reference i aged jack down just a year so hes 3 when haley passes away, about to turn 5 when reader & aaron get together. i dont claim any dialogue straight from Emma as mine! (emma dialogue is in italics) 

masterlist / series masterlist / read it on ao3 

chapter 4 / chapter 6 

-----

You were hyper-aware of the new way the team was looking at you as you entered the conference room. You shot a very anxious glance up towards Aaron, grateful for the very brief- but soft- glance he gave you before the business side of him took over again. You could feel the ghost of his hand hovering over that protective spot on your back again as he led you up towards the table. 

It felt like your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, upon seeing the seemingly endless piles of photos in front of you. Your brain was struggling to process everything that was laid out in front of you and you felt your heart rate start to pick up; seeing it in person was worse than anything your mind had created in the drive here. 

“Y/N.” 

Your eyes shot up to meet the voice and you saw Spencer looking down at you with a look that was just on the edge of pity. “We tried to sort the pictures into piles of time relativity. Would you be able to go through them and help us create a firmer timeline?” 

You nodded at that, vaguely aware of Aaron pulling a chair out behind you. You gladly slid down into it. Seeing Emily start to pick up one pile and push them towards you made you nervously laugh, the stress of the moment and how uncomfortable you felt forcing it out. When the entire team gave you a weird look you said, “Sorry, it just reminded me of last time.” 

You gently picked up the stack of photos, trying to hold them as lightly as possible. The knowledge that the unsub had packaged these himself sent a shiver down your spine. You knew it was silly, but you somehow felt that by touching the photos you were somehow also touching the remnants of the unsub. 

The first stack you easily dated as around four years ago, just from your hair; you’d drastically changed it for a role. You thumbed through the photos and could feel the knots in your stomach growing even tighter. Most of the photos were blurry and relatively distant from you, as if the unsub was still getting comfortable with what he was doing. 

“This was four years ago, I had to change my hair for a role and I’ve never had it like that before or again.” You said quietly, pushing the pile back to Emily. 

She nodded, giving you a gracious smile before pushing the next pile towards you. Your face fell immediately; something the team equated to how much more personal these set of photos seemed to be. You fanned the stack out in front of you. There weren’t many, as if even the unsub could recognize the inappropriate- ha!- nature of capturing you like this. In all of them you looked worn down, as if a cloud was following you everywhere you went. 

“This was about two years ago.” You said flatly. It took a moment, but you could see everyone connect the dots in their head and suddenly the room felt very small. 

Thankfully, the next pile was rather average and you guessed that this was just an ‘extra’ pile of photos that didn’t really seem to fit into a cohesive timeframe. As you scanned over them, one caught your eye and you pulled it a bit closer to you. You pointed a finger at the sign behind you. 

“This is an exclusive club house, it’s difficult to get into. Security’s intense and everyone that enters has to sign in.” You informed the team. JJ reached out and grabbed the photo, putting it to the side for later.

You turned your attention back to the pile, making sure to give each photo a proper amount of attention, desperate to notice something useful. 

“This one,” you said, pulling a blurry photo of yourself out of the pile. You were moving too fast for the camera to properly capture you, but you recognized the outfit. “I was wearing this the day Officer Reynolds told me you all were coming, isn’t this the outside of the station?” You said quietly.

JJ moved that photo to the ‘save for later’ pile as well. You gently re-stacked the pile and passed it towards Emily, waiting for the next one. 

You watched as Emily seemed to be literally holding her tongue as she pushed the next pile towards you, a certain playful glint in her eyes. Once you were able to look at it, you couldn’t help but snort. You could feel Aaron tense up besides you, but you could find the humor in it. The ‘Aaron’ pile. 

You fanned the stack out like you had done with the others, giving special attention to the details behind you. These were much more difficult to place and a much smaller pile, considering how careful the two of you had been. 

“These must’ve been in DC?” You questioned, not really expecting an answer. You looked up towards Aaron, raising an eyebrow as if to give him the opportunity to share his thoughts. “Whenever he came to LA, I had an iron grip on our security but it was a whole different field in DC-” 

Your sentence fell flat as your eyes went wide, nearly surging out of your seat up towards Aaron. He gave you a worried look, unable to place the sudden anxiety that had taken over you. “What about Jack?” You asked worriedly, “if he knows about you he must’ve found out about Ja-”

Aaron stopped you, putting a very gentle hand on the top of your shoulder, “He’s okay, I promise.” He said, using his hand to lightly push you back into a seated position. You nodded at that, eyes still wide, but your body seemed to deflate, the tension slowly leaving you. 

The rest of the team was quiet, recognizing the personal nature of the interaction. But it was impossible for them not to notice the way your bodies reacted to each other. The way your body’s natural response to a stressor had been to move closer to him and the way he angled himself in a protective stance around you near simultaneously. 

Emily pushed the final pile in front of you and you couldn’t help the corners of your lips pull up in a soft smile. You fanned out the stack of photos, taking a good look at all of them. They all seemed to either be promo photos or film photos of your time filming Mamma Mia in Greece. 

“This is definitely from Greece. But some of these are definitely promo photos, it’s why I’m ‘posing’ in a few of them.” You said, pushing out one that visually made your point. 

“What about this one? It feels a lot more intimate than a promotional piece.” Emily asked, pulling one out from the stack. In it, you were standing on the dock, face close to the camera. You had a big smile on your face and your thumbs up. 

“On set, we had a handful of little disposable cameras that everyone could use.” 

“Do you have any memory of who owned the cameras?” 

“I…,” you paused, eyebrows scrunched tightly in thought, “I don’t know. The studio distributed all the photos after the movie came out. They’re pretty public at this point, it was five years ago.” You said weakly, feeling really disappointed in your lack of help. “I’m sorry.” You added. 

Morgan stepped up closer to the table. “Don’t be okay? Now we know that the unsub has connections in Hollywood and we know he must be wealthy enough to fly to DC on a whim if he thought you were there. That helps narrow things down.” He assured you. 

“Are there any specific photographers that you’ve noticed? Or any guy you feel like you’ve seen too many times and it’s no longer a coincidence?” Spencer asked. 

You shook your head quickly. “I’m really used to cameras flashing in my face.” You said impishly. “I can remember a lot of fans that I meet, but if it’s just someone behind a camera I don’t think I’d really notice it at all.” 

You felt Aaron move away from you and towards the computer at the end of the table. He clicked a few buttons and suddenly a woman's face popped up on the screen. You recognized her immediately from all the stories and photos you’d seen. Penelope. 

Aaron brought the computer closer to where you were and her mouth dropped open for the second time today. 

“Oh my god! Hi! Wow! I am, I am such a fan. I just-, you’re always so-” 

“Garcia.” Aaron interjected but you raised your hand at him, giving him a ‘shoo’ gesture. The rest of the team had to stifle their laughter. 

“Hi, Penelope right? I’ve heard so much about you.” You said sweetly, leaning a bit closer to the camera. 

“Wow! Okay, I can’t believe this is-” 

“Garcia, I need you to pull up visitor logs from a clubhouse that Y/N used to visit. I want you to cross reference it with other visitor logs of recent film sets she’s been on and her housing development. She’ll be able to give you a more comprehensive list.” Aaron interjected, and this time you let him. 

You turned back to the screen, giving Garcia another smile. “The clubhouse is called Royal Blue, the picture couldn’t have been more than…, I think three years ago? But I’m not sure.” 

“Alright…, okay the visitor logs seem to be locked tight, but never too tight for me. What are some of those movie sets?” 

“The earliest photo is what? Five years ago?” You asked, looking around at the agents for approval. “Yeah, five years. So Mamma Mia, to start, Little Women. I’m working on Emma right now.” You droned, listing various movie sets you’d worked on in the past five years. 

“Oh my god! I have so many questions about Mamma Mia. Like what was it-,” Garcia’s question trailed off as she caught sight of Hotch giving her a firm stare from behind you. “Right sorry, alright. I will break into the clubhouse and cross reference all of these lists to see if anyone comes up more than once. It was so nice meeting you, I hope we get to-. Alright, hanging up now!” Garcia said in a rushed voice. You watched her click a button on her end and the screen went black. 

You leaned back into your chair, staring up at the rest of the team . “So…,” you said, drawing out the word, “what now?” 

-----

“What are you doing?” Aaron’s asked, voice coming out from behind you. 

You comically froze, hand just short of picking your keys up from the table. You slowly turned to face him, straightening your tote bag over your shoulder. “Oh! There you are, I was just on my way to come find you.” You said lightly, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room. Aaron didn’t say anything, waiting for you to go on. “Johnny and I have plans tonight.” You said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world  

On your part, you’d already forgotten about the whole ‘I’m on a date’ aspect on your earlier phone call with Aaron. In your mind, there wasn’t anything inherently suspicious about you going to spend time with him in the evening.

Aaron was viewing the entire situation in a very different light. When he had first come around the corner, he noticed how nice you looked. When the two of you had finally returned to your place you immediately went up to your room, disappearing for quite some time. He had originally thought maybe you were upset, the cognitive interview hadn’t revealed anything and even though he knew you didn’t really believe in their accuracy, he also knew how badly you wanted to be of ‘use’ for the case. 

In your time upstairs, you had changed your outfit and styled your hair just enough to give it that ‘unstyled-styled’ look. It’s not like you were glammed out or anything, the only reason you’d put on a nice outfit was on the off chance you were photographed- hopefully not by the unsub-, on your way into Johnny’s apartment. 

“And what is it that you’re supposed to be doing?” Aaron asked, trying to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. 

“Um, nothing much,” You said with an awkward laugh, when he was still looking at you expectantly you tilted your head. “I’m supposed to go to his place and we’re gonna run lines for the scenes we’re filming this week.” You explained. 

“I can’t endorse you going out at night. Especially to someone’s home that we don’t have eyes on.” Aaron said firmly. 

You rolled your eyes at that, picking up your keys. “Johnny’s fine, he’s been in the same place as me when nearly all the bodies were discovered.” You argued, putting one hand on your hip. 

“With the recent development in the cases, I can’t let you do this.”

You started to walk towards him, intending to go around him. “Aaron-” 

His hand shot out and gently grabbed you by the arm, stopping you from getting past him. 

“Hey!-” 

“Please,” he said, staring you straight in the eyes. “Don’t go.” 

Your mouth fell open slightly in a mild form of shock. ‘We’re just running lines, I really need-” 

“I’ll do it with you.” Aaron interjected hurriedly. “We’ve done it before, I’m not too bad at it, huh?” He said teasingly. 

You pondered that for a minute. You and Aaron had run lines together plenty of times in the past, it was always something you got a kick out of, seeing Aaron try and morph into whatever character he was reading for. And while it wouldn’t be as productive as running them with your actual co-star, you reasoned it’d still be good enough. And as much as you hated to admit it, Aaron probably had a point about you not going out, especially in the evening.  

“Fine. I just need to go call Johnny and tell him something came up.” You huffed, pretending to be more annoyed than you were. 

“Here,” you said, reaching into your bag and pulling out your script, “I already have most of my lines memorized, I’ll just need you to fill in if I miss any. I have a pink sticky note denoting the scene we were going to start with. You’re reading as Knightely. I’ll meet you in the living room, alright?” You said, pushing the script into his hands as you walked around him towards the kitchen, pulling your phone out at the same time. 

----

“No, I’m just saying I think it’d be more believable or whatever if we did a few more like nonchalant meals before like, running errands together or something, ya know?” You said lazily into the phone, holding it between your ear and shoulder as you used your hands to mix up a drink for yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you caught sight of the Dalmore. You reached out with one hand and carefully pulled it down, still remembering exactly how Aaron liked to take a drink. 

“What meal really screams ‘we’re dating’? Dinner? That’s like the longest meal of the day, that’s gotta show some sort of commitment.” Johnny asked. 

“Hm…,” you droned, “well we just had a lunch. If we want to kick it into high gear, we should do breakfast. Perfect ‘just spent the night’ remedy.” You said with a snort. 

Aaron cleared his throat behind you and the sound made you jump. You pulled the phone away from your ear and saw you’d been blabbering for nearly half an hour. 

‘Oh. Sorry.’ You mouthed to Aaron, before pulling the phone back to your ear. “Hey Johnny gotta go, but we’ll figure it out later! Yeah…, for sure, bye!” You hung up and placed your phone on the counter. Then you grabbed the drink you had poured for him, holding it out. 

“It’s Dalmore.” You said plainly. 

“I’m working.” He responded. 

You rolled your eyes at that and held it out more aggressively. “Take it.” 

You watched happily as he begrudgingly took it out of your hand, though you knew it wasn’t too difficult for him. You picked up your own glass and tucked your phone into the waistband of your pants. “Ready? Sorry, got carried away.” 

While the two of you walked back into your living room, it was obvious something was bothering Aaron. You briefly wondered if something had developed in the case that he wasn’t telling you. 

‘What is it?” You asked. 

He looked down at you, confused. “What is what?” 

“Don’t play dumb, you have a tell.”  You explained, stopping to look up at him.  

“I do not have a tell.” Hotch replied annoyedly. 

“Yes you do.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“If you want to be a baby about it, fine you don’t have a tell. Tell me what’s wrong anyway.” 

“I’m trying to understand why you lied about not having a boyfriend nor seeing anyone recently. We’ll need to fully vet Johnny and look into his files, even if you don’t see it becoming serious.” Aaron near spat.

You snorted. “What do you mean lied?” 

“You very clearly told me you weren’t seeing anyone, yet today has proven those claims to be false.” 

“I know that sometimes, I like to be a huge pain but I’m serious, what are you talking about? I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“Your co-star, Johnny? You told me you were on a date with him today. I just heard you on the phone make plans to stay with him overnight. I saw the pictures of-” 

“Stop! Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually believed that.” You said, unable to hold back the laughter that bubbled out of you. 

“Believed it? You’re the only who told me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed you read through the lines. Johnny and I have been going on publicity dates. We’re just friends.” 

“What were you supposed to be doing tonight then?” 

“We were legitimately going to run lines. Maybe get ice cream, we’re trying to determine the best ice cream in LA.” 

That’d explain the outfit, Aaron thought. 

“And the phone call I just heard?” 

“We were debating which meal screams ‘dating’. He thinks it’s dinner. I think it’s breakfast, ya know, cause it implies you spent the night.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me that, before.” 

“Don’t you remember when I had kinda the same thing with Timothee during Little Women? They made us hang out a bunch so the tabloids could just do their thing. I just assumed you’d fill in the blanks.” 

Aaron was staring at you as if you had two heads. It was almost like you could see the gears turning in that head of his. Internally, he was more than embarrassed for how upset he’d gotten over the idea of you with someone else. 

When it seemed that Aaron had nothing else to say, you started to walk again, not stopping until you were both back in your living room. You plopped down in ‘your spot’ on the couch, playfully patting the space a few cushions down that Aaron typically sat in. 

“Crack open that script, I hope you looked through it. If you’re making me stay home, you better be useful!” You said pleasantly, trying to change the atmosphere into something more playful. 

Aaron awkwardly sat himself down on the couch next to you, picking the script back up. As you watched him flip the script open and further acquaint himself with the lines you couldn’t help but feel a sharp pang in your chest. It was such an unavoidable reminder of the way the two of you used to run lines together when you were still dating. You had learned early on that Aaron best showed his affection through acts of service and he actually wasn’t that bad at delivering a line. Since the two of you were rarely together in person- it’s not like you’d let him waste a visit with you building a shelf or running an errand-, running lines with you was the easiest way for him to feel useful. 

-----

Four Years Ago

“Okay Jack, you ready?” You asked, smiling down at the young boy standing across from you. He was dressed up in his winter clothes, despite the blazing heat of the summer. You and Aaron had tried to talk him out of it, but he demanded it’d be the only way for him to fully get into character. And who were you two to deny him? The sweet boy nodded, barely being able to contain his excitement as he bounced up and down on his feet. 

“Alright, places everyone!” You yelled out, holding the diy paper clapperboard Jack had made for you. You held it out from your body and did a very exaggerated clapping motion. “Action!” You said, quickly throwing the clapperboard to the couch. 

“Carrots!” Jack said, his voice more than enthusiastic for the role. 

“Huh?” You said, heavily overselling your voice and reaction. Even with the one simple word, Jack was already in giggles, struggling to keep it together. 

He leaned in closer to you, standing up on his tiptoes. “Behind you!” 

“Oh! Right, excuse me.” You said, stepping to the side and gesturing to the ‘carrots’ behind you. 

You made your voice really low to play the next part. “Woh, a real howler in July, yea? Where ever could it be coming from?” You asked, placing your chin in between your thumb and pointer finger. 

Jack kept giggling at your ‘deep’ voice, he held his ‘script’ up to his face to read his next line. “The North Mountain.” 

You jokingly ran a hand in front of your face, signaling a character switch. “North Mountain.” You stage whispered. You ran your hand in front of your face again, going serious. “That’ll be forty.” You said, holding your hand out with a ‘gimme’ gesture. 

Jack smacked your hand gently to ‘give you’ the money. But after his face fell ever so slightly. “Can we skip to when Daddy gets to come in??” He asked, giving you those big eyes you couldn’t possibly say no to. 

You stood back, putting your weight on your back leg with one hand on your hip. “Hmm.., I think that could be arranged.” You reached over to grab the clapperboard. “Alright everyone! Back to places, but let’s start at ‘Hi everyone’, okay?” 

Jack nodded excitingly and turned back to where he knew Aaron was standing, partially hidden by the hallway. “Places daddy!” He urged, pointing to where he should come stand. 

Aaron came out from around the corner and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hold in the laughter. Aaron had a big white hat on his head and had let Jack put a small orange dot on his nose. You and Jack had definitely double teamed poor Aaron, dragging him into your little ‘movie game’ as Jack liked to call it. The three of you had started doing this a few months ago, Jack loved ‘running lines’ with you and you were more than happy to oblige him. It had started when a sleepy Jack had stumbled into the living room one night when he couldn’t sleep and he saw you and Aaron running lines for one of your other movies. Jack had taken to it so much you ended up ‘hiring’ him to help you with your more child friendly roles. 

“Alright, alright. Quiet on set!” You said, making a big deal of you bringing your index finger up to your lips in a ‘shush’ motion. “Action!” 

“Hi everyone. I’m Olaf. And I like warm hugs.” Aaron recited robotically , very clear that he was reading directly from the paper. You smacked your hand back over your mouth, unable to control the giggles. Once you started laughing, Jack fell into his own fit of laughter; both of you fueled off the others amusement. 

Of course, when you finally pulled yourself back together, a quick look at the way Aaron was standing with fake annoyance across his face and his arms crossed tightly against his chest sent you back into fits of laughter. 

“Are you two done?” Aaron asked, no true malice in his voice. 

It was rare that the three of you all got to spend time together. He’d been wary of introducing you to Jack. It wasn’t really a ‘you’ thing, but it was more of how Jack would be able to deal with it. There were the typical worries, what if you and Jack didn’t get along? Or what if you two did get along really well but then you and Aaron broke up and it hurt him even further? While you never intended to try and replace his ‘mom’, you still worried that your chaotic schedule would somehow hurt him, skewing his perception of yet another ‘parental’ figure. Not to mention the issues with him being able to keep your identity and presence in his life a secret; he wouldn’t even be able to tell people like Uncle Rossi that his dad was seeing someone. 

But now, you’d been with Aaron for over two years. And Jack had known about you for about a year now. And everything had been going perfect. Jack was a stellar secret keeper, the unfortunate events of his childhood maturing him faster than any child deserved and he was able to fully understand the importance of the situation. The two of you had taken to each other quite quickly and every night the three of you would have a ‘bedtime’ call; even on the nights when Aaron was busy with a case you’d still call Jack on your own. You loved spoiling him with whatever hot new toy was popular among kids his age or getting him special early copies of movies before they came out. Aaron used to get on you about it, saying it wasn’t necessary, but you argued it was the most necessary thing in the world. 

And now here the three of you were. Nestled away in Aaron’s apartment in DC. You had just flown in after wrapping up a shoot abroad and were just in time for the start of summer. Even though your career was at a seemingly new high, you had managed to secure a relatively empty summer. After long consideration and planning you and Aaron decided it’d be a nice treat for Jack to go spend a month or so with you in LA. You’d consulted heavily with many of your friends who kept their children completely hidden from the spotlight and had hired an airtight security team to assist you the entire time. Aaron was supposed to come out when he could, but you were all aware of how turbulent his poor schedule could be. Schedule permitting, you all would spend the next three days at Aaron’s apartment before you and Jack took off. 

“Daddy! You sound like a robot.” Jack said, scolding Aaron. His voice brought you out of your thoughts and you looked down at him with a big smile. 

“Daddy’s just no good at this huh?” You asked, shaking your head. “He’s no match for our talent, Jack!” 

“This is really hot.” Jack said, holding up his arms. He must’ve been sweating his butt off in all those winter layers. 

“You’re kidding me! I wonder who could’ve seen that coming.” You said sarcastically, reaching over to pull off his big hat and zip down the first of multiple jackets he put on. “I’ve heard that ice cream cools you down…,” 

“Ice cream!’ Jack exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. He didn’t even look to his father for ‘permission’, knowing by now you had the most sway in the house. 

“Go put on some normal clothes okay? Wouldn’t be fun if you passed out in your ice cream bowl, huh?” You told him, ruffling his hair before he dipped under your arm, making a mad dash for his room. 

“He hasn’t even had lunch yet, you know that right?” Aaron asked, giving you a fake stern look as he walked over to where you were standing. 

You rolled your eyes at that, reaching up to snatch the white hat off his head, letting your arms fall loosely around his neck. “Does it upset you that I’m always the cool one?” You asked teasingly, reaching up on your tiptoes to press the gentlest kiss on his lips. 

He gave you one of his small smiles, reaching down to press a second kiss to your lips. “How was your flight in?” He asked, one of his hands wrapping protectively around your waist as the other one found its way by your hair, gently stroking down it the way you liked. 

You let your head relax against his touch and pretended to think for a moment. Instead of answering you reached up again, pressing your lips against his, pressing yourself closer to him. You both thought you could stay this way forever; it being the first time you saw each other, in person, in nearly two months. 

“Gross!” Jack’s voice seemingly cut through the two of you. Aaron was the one to pull away first, quietly laughing so only you could hear. 

“Later.” He promised in a whisper. 

You loosened your grip on him, turning to face Jack. “Oh Jack! Funny seeing you here, ice cream, right?” 

----- 

Present Day.

“Page 103, right?” He asked, skipping to the bright pink sticky note you had used as a place marker. 

You jolted out of your memories, feeling the heat rise up your neck as you prayed it wasn’t too obvious you had just completely zoned out. 

“Yep!” You squeaked out, “page 103, line 19, you start.” You said, waving your hands. 

“And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my enemy, you will not ask me why, you are, you are determined, I see, to have no curiosity but I cannot be wise-” He started, keeping his eyes near glued to the page. 

You frowned, shaking your head a bit. “Stand up.” You ordered, already getting to your feet. 

“Excuse me?” Aaron asked. 

“Stand up,” you repeated, motioning upwards with your palms. “This,” you said, motioning between the two of you, “doesn’t feel right if we’re seated, we’re supposed to move around in this scene, it’s supposed to be painful.” You explained. 

He slowly stood up, looking at you for permission to start again. 

“From where you left off, please.” 

“I must tell you, Emma, what you will not ask! Though I may wish it unsaid the next moment-” 

“So do not speak it.” You cut in. “If you wish to speak to me, as a friend or to ask my opinion as a friend I will hear whatever you like.”

“As a friend, Emma. That I fear is a word, tell me Emma. Have I no chance of ever succeeding?” He asked, looking up at you for further approval, you nodded and he continued. “My dearest Emma, my dearest, you will always be my dearest most beloved Emma, tell me at once. I cannot make speeches, if I, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more-” 

“Let’s do a different part, yeah?” You interrupted, voice incredibly tight. You ducked from his gaze, reaching to bring your glass to your lips. 

“Isn’t this the scene you have to practice?” Aaron asked, raising his brow at you. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, taking a long sip, “any practice as the character will be helpful.” 

“If this is the one that’s troubling you, we should go over it.” He pressed. 

“Page 56, start at line 9.” You ordered, throwing back the rest of your glass. “Read it over, I’ll be back.” 

Before you could fully turn to go and refill your glass, Aaron lunged forward and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him. The sudden movement caused you to stumble, throwing your hands out to steady yourself against his chest. 

“You’ve been drinking a lot.” He stated, repositioning his grip on your arm. 

“Am I not allowed to have a drink or two in my own home?” You challenged. 

“What are you running away from?” Aaron asked, his voice so gentle it made your knees weak. 

“You.” You whispered, after a long pause. You looked up at him with sad eyes and only found confusion in his. “I can’t, I-, don’t you see how funny it is? Your character is desperate for mine to be with and my character is the one to deny yours.” 

Your confession pulled sharply on his heart. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, not sure there were any words to appropriately apologize for how he had treated you. 

“Why didn’t you ever call?” You asked, voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear you. 

“I, I-” He stuttered, unable to think of an answer fast enough. 

“I waited for weeks,” you said, looking up at him with a look that nearly brought him to his knees. “I waited so long and you never called.” 

He brushed the hair out of your face, letting his hand fall gently against your cheek. His thumb caught a stray tear that had started to fall, softly brushing it away. “I don’t know.” He responded, his voice as quiet as your. “I don’t know, you didn’t deserve that.” 

You pressed your face into his hand, closing your eyes as you felt more tears managing to sneak past you. He was finally admitting words you had dreamed of hearing for years, but yet you were unable to find any joy in them. 

“You didn’t deserve that.” He repeated, sliding his hand towards the back of your head, pulling you firmly against his chest, while his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You let your body relax into his, slowly bringing your own arms up loosely around his neck. 

You felt him gently press the faintest of kisses to the top of your head. “I’m so sorry angel.” He mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled your head out from under him, looking up at him with big eyes. The two of you were silent, basking in each other's presence. Your eyes flickered down to his lips multiple times; something he duly picked up on. Just as you began to push up on your toes, nearly pressing your lips to his, eyes half closed in anticipation, his phone rang out. 

You froze, falling back onto your heels with a small sigh. “Answer it, I’m getting a refill.” You said, pulling yourself out of his grasp. He gave you an uncertain look, as if he wanted to pull you back in and ignore the call completely. 

You wagged a finger in front of him, shaking your head. In on fluid movement, you grabbed your glass and nearly ran out of the room

-----

It took you ten minutes to calm yourself down and another five to hype yourself up to return to your living room. And that was after you had made yourself a new drink. 

When you entered the living room, Aaron’s back was to you; still locked on the phone. The tension was clear in his shoulders and your eyes drifted down to his free hand that you knew would be clenched in a fist. It was. 

“Thank you Garcia, tell the team we’ll be there soon.” He said, pulling the phone away from his ear and hanging up. 

“Aaron?” You asked. 

He rolled his shoulders back, trying to loosen some of the tension from his shoulders for your benefit. He slowly turned back towards you, his face pulled in frustration. 

“LAPD just reported another body.”

-------

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no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own criminal minds or any of the character involved in it.

[santigarcia]

Dessert is on the Counter

an abel morales x f!reader fic~

word count: 2k

rating: m for smut

summary: you’re a college student and you go home with your friend Elias Morales for Thanksgiving, and you meet his recently divorced older brother Abel....

a/n: this idea was given to me by the lovely @sergeantkane. she was kind enough to let me write this AND make a moodboard for it! this is my first time writing abel so i hope yall like it!

Holidays are never what you expect them to be. This is by far your most eventful thanksgiving to date.

You agree to be a fake girlfriend to your friend Elias. Your good friends, and honestly it would be a fun weekend away. You know his brother has a nice house, and you’d rather stay in New York than go back home. Too many flights to plan.

The house is nicer than you expect when you pull into the driveway. The housekeeper answers the door and she’s a pleasant woman. You can’t seem to find your “boyfriend,” but you do see three young girls run by, playing with their dog. They greet you happily and so does the dog. You set your bag down to bend down to pet the animal when you hear a male voice.

“Did you find the house ok?”

You look up to see the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. He’s dressed sharp in a suit, a tan coat draped over his arm. His cologne smells expensive, and his hair is perfect.

“Oh, yes! You have a lovely home. You and your wife must have put a lot into it!”

“Oh, it’s just me.”

“I’m so sorry- “

“Don’t be,” he holds up his hand to ease your worries.

“Don’t be,” Morales repeats. “She’s a bitch. Abel here wised up and left.” He says hopping up on the kitchen counter. Abel only chuckles, but the look in his eyes tells you that Elias speaks the truth.

“How long are you with us…?” Abel pauses realizing he doesn’t know your name.

“Oh shit,” Elias laughs and hops off the counter. He says your name and then introduces you to Abel. He takes your hand in a strong but gentle handshake, and you flush when his fingers stroke your palm as he slides his hand away.

“And I’ll be here just for the weekend!”

Abel nods and returns your smile, “make yourself at home. We’re so glad you’ll be joining us.” He nods and puts his coat on walking towards the front door.

“He’s always working,” Elias says. “Especially after the divorce, threw himself into his work. Come on, let me take you on a tour.”

You walk through the halls and peek in rooms – noticing the life lived here. It’s full of memory, but it’s almost too quiet. Empty. It’s too clean and you can feel the hurt this family has endured.

“She left him and the girls without a word one morning. The papers were on the kitchen counter.”

All night those words run through your head. You lie on the floor, a makeshift pallet in Elias’s bedroom – staring up at the ceiling. How does someone just leave their whole family behind?

You keep thinking about it as you sit across from Abel at the thanksgiving meal. His daughters and a few other children you assume are cousins sit at the designated kid’s table. The adults table is full of the Morales family, they are cheerful and warm. What about this family made his wife want to leave? They’ve been nothing but welcoming to you.

“What are you studying in school?” Abel asks you as he holds out a plate of homemade bread to you. You take a slice, it’s warm. Just like everything else in this house. Your fingers brush his and you hate how it makes you flush. So much so you almost forget the question.

“I’m an anthropology major.”

“Oh?” Abel raises a brow. His interest is piqued. “What made you chose that?”

“People fascinate me and learning about other cultures in the process has opened up my world view. I think it’s important.”

He nods in agreement as he takes a sip of wine.

“Knowing people is a key part in my business. Works better that way.”

“Abel,” groans Elias, “you’re so boring!” He laughs. A couple family members chuckle but mean no harm. You hold Abel’s eyes, and something sparks behind them. Suddenly you get the feeling he’d like to eat you alive. And watching his jaw move while he eats his meal doesn’t help the desire growing between your legs.

As their guest, a couple of the women take your plate and bring you a slice of pie. Abel smiles fondly at you as you enjoy the first bite. Elias has left to go watch the game on TV, but you didn’t notice.

“You’re not really dating him, are you?” Abel chuckles.

“How did you guess?”

“He’s in there, watching the game.” Abel nods his head in the direction of the living room. You can hear voices cheering and a clamor of excitement. “When he could be here with you. And hey, maybe you don’t have to be around each other all the time. But he didn’t even ask if you wanted to join.”

You can’t look at him, he’s too handsome. So, you look past him into the kitchen where more family members wash dishes and start cleaning things up. Someone laughs loudly and Abel turns to see with a smile. It’s so comfortable.

“I bet you’re wondering now why I’m here then.”

“Yes, I am,” he nods with a polite smile and folds his hands together, his dessert finished.

“I wanted to get away. Spend time somewhere else. And Elias is a good friend. I have an anthro project due at the end of the semester, and I wanted to see how different families are at over the holidays.” You pause, “but nothing looks all that different from Thanksgiving at my home.”

Abel asks you more questions and you end up talking for some time. You don’t even notice the relatives leaving. The only thing that stirs you from the conversation is your want for leftovers now that you’re hungry again.

“Thank you for the lovely conversation Mr. Morales,” you smile when you stand finally.

“Abel, please. And it’s been a pleasure. I’m glad you’re here.” He nods.

That night it’s even worse. Laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling thinking about him. You couldn’t sleep if you tried, this floor isn’t comfortable now. You shouldn’t be thinking about Abel, but you can’t help but think about him in his room, alone. His touch was so warm, you can’t imagine what his touch would be like sexually.

Why did his wife leave him? It bothers you.

Elias is snoring, and you can’t sleep – so you get up to go downstairs for a drink. You quietly tiptoe down the hall. You see the girls’ bedrooms, each of their doors has a pink sign with their name on it. A stair creaks when you step on it and you freeze, it’s as if your thoughts of Abel will expose you.

You carry on down the stairs and into the kitchen. There are only a few small lamps on to illuminate the space. But the fridge light pours onto the floor when you open the freezer for some ice in your glass.

“Can’t sleep?”

Abel.

Shit.

You gasp and spin around to see him in comfortable pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. He looks so handsome in the soft light.

“Sorry,” he laughs. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright! I hope this is ok…”

“Oh, of course” he points to the sink and you fill your glass. You feel your face warm, knowing he’s watching you. Seeing him while you’re in your pajamas wasn’t what you had in mind.

“And no, I can’t sleep.”

“Something on your mind?” he asks casually, reaching in the cabinet for a mug.

Does he know? No. He can’t know. Can he?

You realize you haven’t answered and instead you’re just standing frozen overfilling you glass of ice water.

“The floor isn’t comfortable,” you say instead, which is also the truth.

“The floor?” he pauses, setting the mug down. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Well, we aren’t- “

“No, I know you’re not dating, but why did he give you the floor? I outta kick his ass for treating a guest that way. Especially one so pretty,” he smiles, there’s a glint in his eye of flirtation- harmless, but you want more of it.

“You know, Abel, it’s not my place to say this but I think your wife made a mistake.”

He takes a step closer to you and you feel your heart pounding in your throat.

“Things happen the way they are supposed to,” he says, taking a step closer. You take a drink from your water, but he pulls the glass from your lips.

“I shouldn’t-“ you whisper.

“Why not?” Abel sets your glass down. There’s a chill on his fingertips when he touches your cheek. “I’ve seen the look in your eyes all day. If you don’t want this, then please say so. But if you do, then please- kiss me.”

Throwing all caution to the wind, you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply. He grunts into your mouth and helps you hop up on the counter. Your legs wrap around him tightly, pulling him towards you. His mouth hasn’t left yours and the moans leaving your mouth already are full of need.

“Please,” you whine and buck your hips against him. His hands slide into your waistband and he’s quick to find your clit. The gasp you let out is obscene, and he claps his hand over your mouth. He gives you a little grin of satisfaction and he rubs your clit perfectly.

No one you’ve been with have touched you like this. You’re a 23-year-old college student, all your past relationships have been too inexperienced for good pleasure. This is a man who knows how to touch a woman.

He keeps up his pace and he doesn’t stop until your panties are soaking wet.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, looking in your eyes. You know he’ll stop if you ask. But you’d rather die than him stop right now.

You shake your head yes, and he moves his hand. He pulls down his pajama pants enough to pull himself free. He’s already hard and ready for you. You moan again and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he’s testing the waters and you’re ready to drown. You nod quickly as he slips off your pants and pushes your panties aside. He then lines himself up with you. He thumbs your clit with one hand as he guides himself in with the other. You stifle a moan, and he can’t help but chuckle quietly at your attempts to be quiet.

He thrusts into you, hard. You see stars and clench around him. Everything about him is too much, but just in the right way. His voice is smooth, his skin is warm. His hair is perfect and you’re messing it up with your fingers while he pounds into you on the kitchen counter next to the leftover desserts from today.

His thumb stays there on you while he thrusts, his other hand gripping the counter for support. When you near your end, his big hand finds the small of your back and pulls you as close to him as possible.

He makes sure you come again before he does. His moans are soft, his eyes asking you permission. You nibble on his ear and whine a yes when he spills himself into your heat.

“You wanna come sleep in my bed?” he whispers into your neck as he places a kiss there.

You nod and he pulls out, helping you slide off the counter.

He takes you again in the bedroom. Twice. He strips you naked and enjoys the touch of your skin. He worships you in his big bed. Once it crosses your mind he slept with his wife in this big bed. But you soon forget when he’s balls deep and making you come a fourth time that night.

You don’t want to explain this one to Elias tomorrow, but it’s better than sleeping on the floor.

xx

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