#I got teary eyed multiple times today

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[fireflysymphony]

Oh my god your Aventurine x Bodyguard!Reader so good I have to give you so many praises for that! But I have to ask… if you can may I please hear your thoughts on Aventurine with a Reader that he adores to take with him to the casinos as like a lucky charm but in reality he just absolutely loves to show off that they are partners, if that’s alright please and thank you! I hope you have a wonderful day today!

Aventurine showing off reader

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! I really enjoyed writing it, and seeing someone else appreciate it makes me really happy. Here are some of my thoughts! I just love this man an unhealthy amount. I hope you enjoy this <3

Word count: 1.6k

Content Warning: GN! Reader, suggestive but mostly a crazy blond and some fluff, mentions of alcohol, not proofread, hope you enjoy <3

Headcanons

Long before the two of you began to date, he’d take you to his casinos with the intention of scamming you out of your money and possibly getting you drunk and taking you home with him later that night.

He got it in his head that it would end up like one of those sexy pornos where once he gambled you out of all your money, he’d seductively lean down and whisper in your ear “All your money’s gone, a shame angel, but let’s have one more round, yeah? If I win again, you’ll have to pay me back with something more… intimate.” And then he’d win and take you home with him to get his “payment.”

It never ended like that though. You were either too smart to gamble with him, or your teary eyed, defeated face once he won for the third time in a row would break his heart in a way he didn’t like or fully understand, so he’d stop himself from sucking you dry of anymore cash. And the next day you would find the money you lost plus some extra back in your bank account. He hoped you never found out that your tears were the only thing to melt his heart in a long time.

If you so much as mentioned not going with him one day, you’re in store for another one of Aventurine’s famous tantrums. This is when the phrase “good luck charm” started getting thrown around. You jokingly told him to get another person who throws themselves at his feet to be his lucky charm, and he lost it.

“No, no, no! It’s you that I want with me, nobody else! You're my good charm, singular! Please, come with me, angel, please!”

You didn't know why because you thought that’s what he was doing anyway since he often canceled your casino dates. In reality though, when you weren’t with him at night, it was because of dangerous work he didn’t need you getting involved in.

Most people who visited the casinos regularly already thought you and Aventurine were dating for multiple reasons. He always had some part of him touching yours whether it be a hand on the small of your back or him leaning on you whenever he was a little tipsy or bored of a game. He never let you pay for anything while you were with him, and despite being a rich man who could definitely afford two cocktails, he’d much rather hold his up to your lips and watch you drink from his glass. Aventurine wouldn’t let anyone approach you, especially if it was someone he had to confront for work that night, and if anyone tried flirting with you, they’d be out of luck, out of money, and out of a life depending on Aventurine’s mood. He didn’t like things that belonged to him being touched or stolen.

Safe to say, most people had pretty good evidence to conclude that you and him were together.

As you can imagine, this only got worse when you became official partners since Aventurine didn’t have to hold anything back. Your seat wasn’t the one next to him anymore, it was in his lap. He didn’t need to hold himself back from kissing you, and conveniently he mostly did it when other people were watching him. Before each round of poker, he’d ask you for a good luck kiss to bless his hand which lasted a little too long for everyone’s— but his— comfort.

Pretty much everyone knew that you weren’t just a good luck charm but a prize for him to show off, and he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. Anyone who knew what was good for them backed off from trying to pursue you, and those brave souls who didn’t were in for a treat because Aventurine LIKED having them stare…. When he was in a good mood anyway. Bad mood, jealous Aventurine was a different story, but he’s for another day.

“I like it when they look at you, dove.” “But they look at me like you do.” “Exactly. But I’m the only one who gets to have you, pretty thing.”

Right after kisses, his eyes go straight to find the men he knew were into you, wanting to see their disappointed faces. He’ll even let them chat you up before pulling you onto his lap and kissing you. To him, crushing them emotionally was far more entertaining than outright killing them. This only goes for when you’re dating though. As stated before, Aventurine hated the thought of someone taking what he owned, and since you didn’t know you were his yet, he had to dispose of anyone who thought they had a chance.

It hurt him that the only place he could show you off was at the casinos. He owned them, so nobody was going to try to harm you unless they were prepared for the weeks long torture he had in store, not even the IPC spies he knew were around were safe from his wrath. To the IPC, you were nothing more than one of Aventurine’s ordinary flings, and he wouldn’t let anyone see past that facade, even if he wanted to rub his relationship in Topaz or Ratio’s face.

—-

“You always win, so I don’t understand why you need me here every night, wouldn’t you rather bring someone who’s unfamiliar with your tricks to scam?” You asked him one night before the two of you were officially a couple. He took you up to one of the VIP rooms, a few people mingling and chatting over cards around you. The two of you got a couch to yourself, yet Aventurine had an arm around your waist, not allowing an inch of personal space despite the size of the sofa. Aventurine was bored of the easy fish at the casino tonight. The card shark didn’t like his prey to fall too easily unless it was you, but you weren’t interested in losing any more money to him tonight..

“No, I’ve told you before! You’ve never seen me lose before, doll. Isn’t it obvious why? Because you’re lucky!” He answered, taking a sip of his third glass of champagne. He acted a lot more honestly when he was tipsy, his conniving grin never left his lips though, so nobody could tell how serious he was. That was if he let himself get tipsy in front of anyone but you— which he didn’t. You were the sole one who got to hear his slightly slurred speech and, on particularly rough nights, his lack of inhibitions.

“If I’m so “lucky,” why haven’t I beat you yet?” You hummed, shivering at the amount of money he’s coerced you into betting, yet somehow you’re more well off now since you met him than ever before.

“Because you’re my good luck charm, you have to find your own; I’ve sucked you dry of all your lucky, so nobody else can have you.” He waved his hand in the air like it was the most obvious explanation in the world before leaning his head on your shoulder, his glasses sliding down his nose and letting you see his pretty shining eyes. “You’re only mine to have, do you understand that?”

All you could do was sigh and fix his glasses. He was prone to say stuff like this when he was drunk and when he was sober too but it was worse when you had a little alcohol in his veins. Aventurine’s normal flirting was so teasing that you could chalk it up to him being just that, a teasing flirt who did this with everyone, but when he was tipsy or drunk, a serious edge pierced his words, a large contrast from his usual over-the-top teasing. You couldn’t trust that either. “You’re drunk, Aventurine.”

“Maybe so, but you still don’t understand, doll.” He took off his glasses, tossing them next to his empty glass on the table. He laid himself down on your thighs, his head turned away from you to face the rest of the room. When he was normal sober Aventurine, you didn’t take his advances seriously, and when he was drunk, you still didn’t take him seriously. It was annoying! Did he just give up? Was this a bet lost?

Sensing an incoming tantrum you set your hand on his hair, playing with his blond locks. You bit your lip, already regretting the ego boost you were about to give him. “…Now that I think about it: maybe I do have a good luck charm.”

The way he jolted up gave you an idea of where this was going, so you braced yourself for the storm about to hit. Shit, pouting might have been easier to sit through.

“D’awwww! Lovemuffin, do you mean it?! Really?! Say it again! Come on, say it to me again!” He somehow wormed his way onto your lap, poking at your cheek in eagerness. His legs straddled your waist, and everyone in the small quiet space turned their heads to look at you.

“What are you doing? Stop, get off of me! no-no it isn't you!” You shrieked, batting his hands away from your face as you shook your head. Now you really regretted saying anything. “You’re making a scene!”

“Sure it isn’t! Aren’t you just the most adorable thing, such a sweetheart to little ol’ me!~” He threw his arms around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He took back everything he previously thought. No matter what you were going to be his! “But if I am your lucky charm, I don’t think I’m working. You always lose!”

“Shut up, Aventurine!” You grumbled, hugging him back with a tenderness your words didn’t hold. Was it possible his words weren’t all faked?

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this more fluffy Aventurine post! Whether it be the sexy or scrunkly menace, I hope you enjoy him! <3 thank you to the requester for this idea

Requests are open!

[dolliuv]

brother's (fuma) bff! euijoo sneaky relationship without letting anyone know that they're in a relationship 😵‍💫 risking it all, doing all the things that can make the latter one get caught in a looot of trouble

euijoo sneaking up to her room as soon as midnight strikes, wishing all to god that no one enters the room when euijoo's downing fuma's innie winnie tinnie innocent sister

— 🎀 nonie

my brother’s bestfriend | byun euijoo ᰔᩚ

- warning : dom!euijoo, rough sex, unprotected ( seal it b4 u deal it >:[ ), hair pulling, oral ( reader receive ), swearing, slight degradation, breeding kink, overstimulation from pussy eater euijoo.

- synopsis : maybe sneaking around with your brother’s GROUP MATE wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but, you and euijoo manage to always keep it sneaky and secret, no matter how risky you guys got.

- pairing : idol!euijoo x reader

maybe dating your brother’s GROUP MATE wasn’t on your bingo list, but what you also didn’t mention was that you both had to keep it SECRET from him and the others, though you love the risks and thrill of someone possibly finding out about you and euijoo. yep, you’re dating the one and only, byun euijoo, your brother, fuma’s, group member as well as bestfriend. how it happened to be what it was now is such a blur, but yet it feels amazing knowing you have such a loving and sweet boyfriend, sucks not being able to be openly physical and lovey with one another but it’s for the sake of not only you two but for your brother as well. fuma has yet to find out what his little sister and leader has been up to late at night. unbeknownst to the guys, euijoo is definitely a sweetheart and lovable boy, who wouldn't ask for more from their amazing leader.

but boy, was he the opposite when it came to him being horny, he’s handsy and gets a little mean. honestly when he tries to hint that he’s needy and wants you when the guys are around, he tends to brush his fingers against your neck or thigh before pointing at his room or texting you to meet him in the bathroom. it’s all about the risk for euijoo, he could care less if you guys were to get caught anymore, you’re his girlfriend and he loves making it known to you that’s what you are. whether he’s making you squirt on his fingers, his cock or his mouth, it doesn’t matter, he will show you that he loves you one way or another.

and of course that’s how you ended up in his bedroom at nearly 1am, his head in between your legs as his tongue was doing wonders on your heat, your fingers in his hair while you bit down on his shirt that was shoved in your mouth by said boyfriend. your moans were muffled as euijoo squeezing your thighs, flicking his tongue against your clit before shoving his tongue back inside you with his fingers being fucked into you. he had you shaking and teary eyed from how long he’s been at it for eating you out, euijoo usually is shoving his cock into you by now but you had pissed him off today by wanting to be all touchy with nicholas, he decided to make you learn your lesson by having you cream multiple times on his tongue. it’s been about 6 times since you came and you felt another one coming back, fuck your boyfriend for being so amazing with his mouth. “mmph!!” you whined against the shirt, biting down in it once again as you felt your orgasm coming closer as euijoo’s fingers sped up, his mouth pulling away from your clit. “oh come on y/nie, you can do it, cum for me again, i know you can.” he said in a demeaning tone as his eyes glanced over at his door, hearing footsteps pass his bedroom before his lips were back on your clit.

you breathed heavily as your juices once again, coated themselves on euijoo’s mouth and fingers. he finally pulled out his fingers and licked them clean before grabbing the small towel to wipe his mouth. pulling down his sweats with his boxers, bringing his cock to your heat before pushing in fully without warning, his hands holding your hips before his hips started to snap rapidly into you. your moans and whines being muffled once again by the tshirt in your mouth, your hands gripping at the sheets tightly, you felt extremely sensitive from the amount of times you came, but the amazing feeling of his cock hitting so many of the right spots makes you drown in more, wanting him to fuck you completely into oblivion. you were already going stupid from him eating you out and this just made you go more into oblivion, only moaning out into his shirt and shaking like no other as your boyfriend rams his cock into you. “y/nie~.. look up at me.” euijoo said as his fingers tangled into your hair and pulled on it gently to pull your head back, making your teary eyes meet with his. a scoff leaving his lips as his thrusts got progressively rougher and harder, making your eye roll back and your back arch.

“awhh, y/nie baby can’t take it anymore, huh?” euijoo said as he continued to fuck into you like a madman, his angel like smile looking so demeaning to how he’s talking to you. “come on, maybe if you learned how to keep your slutty hands to yourself, i wouldn’t have had to do this to you, hm?” he said again as his hand tugged at your hair. seeing the tears roll down your face made him scoff again as he kissed your neck, leaving hickeys on it. oh how he knew this would automatically get you and him caught but he doesn’t care. he wants to make it known you’re his and his alone. even if it means pissing off your brother, he knows everyone sees you as a cute little innocent baby. but boy, when he has you under him, it’s a whole other you.

he felt you tighten around him as his cock twitched, his hips starting to stagger a bit as his breathing got heavy, he held your hips tightly before drilling his cock into you at a inhuman pace. biting his lip as he listened to your pretty moans muffled from his own shirt. “i’m gonna fuck you so full of my cum, you’ll look so cute all filled.” euijoo said, feeling his high getting closer and closer before he held your hips down from your constant squirming, he felt your warm cum around his cock and it caused him to break, filling your hole up with his seed. his breathing was heavy as he finally removed the shirt from your mouth, kissing your forehead as he pulled out slowly, you whined and tried to catch your breath as your boyfriend cleaned you up before gently holding your head up. “drink up, baby.” he said as he held a cup of water to your lips, you did as told and looked at euijoo. he gave you the angelic smile you loved seeing so much.

euijoo pulled his shirt onto your head and helped with putting it on you after putting your panties back on. he put his boxers and sweats back on before holding you in his arms, cuddling you close to his chest as he kissed your head. “i love you.” euijoo said, his eyes filled with so much love for you as you looked up at him tiredly. “i love you too, juju..” you said before drifting off to sleep, euijoo chuckled before heading to sleep right after.

were you both gonna hear the end of it when fuma walks in tomorrow? probably but who cares.

[cantpickonefandoms]

Got around to watching Mat’s final stream today, I had no time to watch it live sadly, but I got to watch it and I got super emotional and teary eyed at the end. GTLive is probably my favourite of the Theory channels because of how personal it is, from adorable moments between Mat and Steph, the witty moments they shared with Jason and Chris, and the pure chaos of Mat, Ash, and Mirror Mat, and Sam as of recent, GTLive has always brought me so much joy, and honestly, that final stream hit me more than the final Game Theory, because now Mat really and truly has left, and I’m gonna miss him a lot, but as it’s been said multiple by times by everyone in this community, now he has more time for Steph and Ollie and for other projects he wants to do for himself, and that’s awesome! And I know Ash is gonna kick ass as the new GTLive host, they’re the perfect person to take over after Mat, and his speech to Ash at the end of the stream was so heartfelt and wonderful, I’m glad they’re the one taking the reigns, and I can’t wait to see Ash and Sam’s first GTLive video!

[puhpandas]

Veering Off Course

(2,305 words)

Gregory and his family get a call that Vanessa, whos in a different state for college, has gotten hurt. Gregory calls Evan, and Evan is able to use the things he's learned about himself since meeting Gregory to help his friend with his emotions regarding the situation.

Its early in the morning on a Saturday when Evan gets the call. It woke him up, so all he does is blink groggily and swipe at the screen blindly while propped up on his elbow until his thumb hits 'answer' on his phone. "Hello?"

"Evan." It's Gregory, and the serious tone to just that single word clears up Evan's brain as fast as lightning. He scrambles to prop himself into sitting up and rubs at his eyes with one hand.

"Gregory?" Evan asks, looking at the little icon he set for Gregory's contact of a picture of Evan and him at an amusement park. "Is everything okay?"

It takes a second for Gregory to respond, and it causes the anxiety that had steadily began to bubble inside of him to surge. "Gregory?"

"Sorry." Gregory finally answers. "I-- Uh... can you..." His friend struggles for words, and Evan tries to be as patient as possible as it becomes clearer every second something is wrong. "Can you come over? Like right now?"

Evan flounders for words for a second, but manages to force his mouth to say, "Of course."

"Okay." Gregory replies, and a surge of worry shoots through his chest when Gregory sounds like he might cry. He takes a breath on the other end, then, "Please hurry."

After that, Evan only lingers enough to respond with a short confirmation and goodbye before hanging up the phone. It takes him record time to shoot out of bed, sling on some shoes, and get down the street a few houses to Gregory's own.

His mind had played multiple awful scenarios of what terrible thing could have happened the entire time, but his worry does not ebb when he makes it to the porch and knocks on the door to a teary eyed Gregory.

Evan's immediately herded inside. Freddy has his phone in his hand pressed up against his ear, and he's pacing around the room. Aunt Chica and Aunt Roxy sit in the living room. Bonnie is sat in a dragged-over dining chair by Freddy and frowning.

It's dead silent in the house; even the TV and seemingly endless energy flowing through and causing bustling noise is snuffed out to nothing. Evan watches as everyone sits completely seriously and quiet, hands held in their lap or thrumming against something.

Impatience, is what Evan first thinks of. They're waiting for something. News, maybe? Freddy is on the phone. It's so silent you could hear a pin drop. Or somebody else's phone vibrate.

Evan's dread and anxiety only get worse when Gregory shuts the door behind him and tugs on him a bit. Evan follows without struggle, thousands of words and questions on his tongue when Gregory leads him to one of the unoccupied seats in the living room; a loveseat.

He sits down with him, and Gregory's face is scrunched up in barely restrained worry. Evan watches his friend, who's been an anchor for himself for so long, tremble and hunch in on himself. "Gregory?"

Gregory's eyes dart to him, and Evan leans down, hunching forward with his elbows rested on his thighs like theyre their own personal bubble. Evan's own brows furrow, and he feels the familiar thickness in his throat just at watching his friend be upset.

Evan grabs at his hand, squeezing it tight and lacing their fingers together. "I'm really worried, Gregory... please tell me whats wrong." Evan pleads. "Please?"

Gregory nods unsurely after a moment, and Evan watches him swallow thickly before turning to him fully. "Dad got a call from the University of Oregon today."

Evan's brows raise, but he nods to keep going. The University of Oregon is the college Gregory's sister, Vanessa, had left home to go attend. Evan hasnt gotten the chance to meet her, yet. She's already been gone two years strong, with a seemingly bright future. Evan's heard Gregory and his family talk about her enough to know her talents.

Gregory's breath hitches, and Evan wraps his other hand around Gregory's, the one he already has ahold of. He sandwiches it in-between his own and hopes it's enough comfort.

"Somebody called us and told us Vanessa got into a car crash today. On campus."

It's like a bucket of ice water is poured on Evan's head. His feet go cold, and his eyes widen to saucers. Fear shoots like an arrow through his stomach. When he stops reeling from the news, he watches Gregory begin to shake and lose the carefully gathered composure he'd put up since Evan arrived.

"They said..." Gregory's brows are furrowed so much it looks like it hurts. Theres a clench in his jaw and a wetness to his eyes Evan isnt used to. "They said she's already been taken to the hospital and is in surgery." He frowns, and theres a twist in his lip that Evan is so familiar with. "They... a-all we can do is wait. They told us they'd let us know any updates."

The house is thrown back into such jarring silence after Gregory stops talking that Evan's ears start ringing. Which makes it clear as day when Gregory's breath turns harsh beside him.

Evan tears his eyes away from the floor and ignores the twisting feeling in his chest to look at his friend. He has his face buried in the hand that isnt held by Evan and is shaking in a way where you can tell theyre trying so hard to keep it together. Gregory's angled away from him, but Evan can see the panic on his face even from where he can see.

Evan's breath hitches, and the thickness in his throat begins to turn into burning as he scootches closer to Gregory on the couch and sets a hand on his shoulder. He tugs a bit until Gregory gets the message and let's him wrap his arms around his middle and hold him close.

Gregory makes some sort of horrible, upsetting hitching noise that causes the dam to break for Evan, before he sort of flops against him and brings up his own arms to clutch at his T-Shirt. Gregory's head thumps against his shoulder, and it's one of the only times Evan really becomes aware of the height he has on his friend.

"Its okay..." Evan says into Gregory's shoulder, because it's all he knows to do in the moment. He glances around and sees that Gregory's family has shifted to the dining room, leaving them alone. Evan finally feels the tears slip from his eyes as he presses closer, hugging him like his life depends on it. "Its okay, Gregory. It'll be okay."

"It's--" Gregory says, and Evan can hear how much his voice shakes with barely contained tears. "Its not. I can't-- We can't even go see her. We can't go and wait for her to wake up, or anything... we just have to--" He cuts himself off, and Evan feels Gregory shake harshly against him.

"We just have to sit here." Gregory says, voice thick. "I dont know what to do, Evan. I don't know what to do."

And its only that sentence that causes Evan to grapple at what to do, if his friend can't. And all he can think about is how himself would react if it were Gregory getting hurt.

All he'd be able to do is cry, he realizes. He wouldnt be able to do anything. Just wait and be scared.

But that's what Gregory is getting at, isnt he? He can't do anything. That's the thing. Evan has known Gregory long enough to get him. To know, him. Evan knows that Gregory doesnt sit around and cry like Evan does. He prefers to get up and do something about whatevers wrong.

Hes a problem solver instead of waiting around. A fighter instead of a crier. No wonder hes so bent out of shape about this. To have a loved one in danger, and when you're so used to getting up and making a plan to fix a problem and are forced to sit in standby...

Evan eases them down against the cushion of the couch, not once untangling themselves from eachother. Gregory shakes, but he does not cry. "So what would you do if you could?"

The hair from Gregory's bangs brushes against Gregory's neck as he moves his head. "I'd... I don't know. I'd at least try to get to her." Gregory says, voice unbelievably quiet. "At least get to her. Then figure it out from there. Just so I'm not waiting on phone calls."

Evan nods against him, his chin scrunching up Gregory's hair. His tears have long since stopped falling, but he knows he has dry tracks on his cheeks. "You have a plan."

Gregory makes some sort of noise that would sound like a snort in any other circumstances. "I would if I could." Gregory replies, squeezing his arms a bit tighter. "But I cant" He sighs, shuddering and heavy. "I just have to wait."

Evan hums. "You're worried, and you're stressed." He makes the same noise Gregory just did. "I know how you feel... I really do. Maybe not your exact situation, but... I get what it's like to feel helpless." He says. "You know what I would do?"

Gregory hums this time, questionative. Evan rubs circles into his back. "I'd sit there and wait, and wish for it to different. And when it wouldnt be, I'd cry."

Gregorys head shifts against that crook between Evan's chin and chest, almost like hes trying to look him in the eye but the hug prevents him from being able.

"All I ever did was cry." Evan says when Gregory doesnt respond. "Its the only thing that I could do to cope."

"...So..." Gregory asks, and his voice is thick again. "You mean..."

"You're stressed." Evan answers. "You're stressed and you're worried. So... why dont you let it out?"

Evan, out of anyone, knows how valuable emotions can be. He didnt, once upon a time. When everyone would just tell him how annoying it is. How useless it is. How he's asking for it. How he should have toughened up by now. When instead of comfort, he'd receive ridicule and prodding.

That's changed. Ever since a certain someone entered his life. He doesn't think of his emotions, himself so little anymore. So worthless. So maybe that's why Gregory perks up ever so slightly in understanding.

And that's all it takes.

Gregory's trembling turns into shoulder shaking sobs like the snap of a finger. He cries, open and unadulterated, and Evan just hugs him close and rubs his back, offering reassurances like Gregory has done for him so many times.

His own eyes burn when his best friends sobs are heard so openly and he can feel every shudder of his body. Evan's chin scrunches, and the tears fall right along with Gregory as Evan hugs him close, tucking his face into his hair.

"Im--" Gregory cries. "I-Im just so worried about her."

"I know." Evan responds, his own voice breaking as he pets Gregory's hair. His shirt is damp with tears but he doesnt care. "Itll be okay. It'll all be okay."

They stay like that for a while, and Evan can tell Gregory needs it. He needs it. The worry he felt that morning doesnt ever really leave, and it stays ever-present as Evan watches his friend fall apart. They stay stuck together like magnets, eventually only shoulder to shoulder with linked hands on the loveseat, and none of Gregory's family try to peel them apart when they eventually wander back into the living room.

They stay in a state of constant agonizing limbo all day. At 8:00pm, Freddy calls it a night. Gregory protests immediately, but Aunt Roxy calms him down almost seamlessly and convinces him to go to bed.

Of course, Evan follows him. He cant imagine a world where he doesnt. The air mattress stays deflated in Gregory's closet as it has been most of the time nowadays. All Evan has to do is kick his shoes off since he left home in his pajamas anyway and they're wrapped around eachother, tucked in Gregory's bed under his comforter in the dark.

Gregory is silent all throughout the night, even though Evan knows he's awake. Evan just hopes that... he did the right thing. Something knows is that suppressing how you feel isnt good. It never works. No matter how much you want it to.

Gregory taught him that. He just wants to return the favor. Not because he owes Gregory, no. Gregory has long since hammered it into Evan's thick skull that he has nothing to pay him back for. That his kindness is not a deed to Evan, but rather that Evan himself deserves to be treated kindly.

Gregory does, too. Evan knows this with all his heart. Gregory is his best friend and has done more for him than anyone else ever has.

Evan... all Evan did was change. Change for the better. And hopefully he helped the most important person in his life with the things he learned. The things that person taught him.

He hugs Gregory's middle a little tighter, not daring to break the silence. Gregory needs time, but doesn't want to be alone. Evan understands. He does. He just hopes to convey what he truly feels through the one action.

Thank you. I'm here for you. I'll always be here. You're my best friend. I'm so glad you trust me. I trust you as well. So much.

Gregory himself wraps his arms tighter around Evan in turn, and Evan feels like the single movement lso has a deeper meaning he cant read.

They dont speak. They just lay in silence until eventually they fall asleep, stuck together like two puzzle pieces.

ao3 link

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Unwitting Rescue-Chapter 6

Fandom: Supergirl

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Rose Zen (Original Character), Marigold Zen (Original Character), Violet Zen (Original Character), J'onn J'onzz, Winn Schott, John Stewart

Summary: Kara Danvers finds a box of kittens on her way to work. Things don't go according to plan.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Kara, Lena, and the kittens stood back and admired their handiwork. They made a blanket fort that took up 1/5 of the living room. They used 10 different blankets to make the fort. They hung soft yellow Christmas lights on the inside and outside. Inside the fort were multiple soft pillows and bean bag chairs. It had a cozy feel to it. The girls were bouncing up and down at their creation. 

“This looks amazing!” exclaimed Rose. 

“When do we get to go inside?” asked Violet excitedly.

“Why don’t you guys go and make yourselves comfortable, while Lena and I grab the food and bring it inside,” said Kara. 

“Yay!” screamed the girls as they ran inside the fort.

Lena smiled and said, “They look so cute!”

“I know,” said Kara as they walked towards the kitchen. 

They quickly grabbed the food, drinks, cups, plates, silverware, and napkins and headed back to the fort. They came back to Marigold sitting on a bean bag chair, Violet laid out across a pillow, and Rose on a pillow wrapped in blankets. Kara and Lena divided the food out. The girls stared at the food with large eyes and mouths watering. 

“Oh, what is all of this?” asked Rose as she went in for a bit of food. 

Lena smiled and said, “So today, we are having lasagna, a salad, and for the dessert, we have brownies.”

“All of this looks yummy!” exclaimed Marigold. 

Violet bit into her food and looked up at Marigold and Lena joyously. 

“Thank you Marigold and Lena for making such a good dinner.”

Rose looked up with her mouth puffed out full of food which caused Lena and Kara to smirk. 

Rose quickly swallowed down her food and said, “Violet is right. This is amazing. I wish I  had the patience to cook with Mama like Marigold did. I always got distracted and started dozing off.”

Lena smiled and said, “It is never too late to learn. I didn’t learn until my 20s because it was my first time living alone and I couldn’t rely on take-out all the time. If you want, I can teach all of you the different dishes I know.”

Rose looked up at her shocked and asked, “You really would do that?”

Lena smiled and said, “Of course!”

Rose beamed and exclaimed, “This is so exciting!”

Violet smiled and said, “Thank you, Lena!”

“Oh, I know the first thing that I want to learn next. Mama always talked about making puppy chow,” said Marigold.

Rose frowned and said, “That sounds disgusting. I don’t like puppies, but I don’t want to see them being eaten either.”

Marigold gave Rose a deadpan stare and said, “No one said anything about eating puppies.”

Rose rolled her eyes and asked sarcastically, “Well, what is this so great dish that Mama talked about?”

Marigold pouted and said, “Well, I’m not telling since you are being a big meanie.”

Rose stuck out her tongue and said, “Fine, be a big baby for all I care.”

Marigold started getting teary-eyed and said, “I’m not a baby.”

Violet looked back and forth between Marigold and Rose and said with her voice trembling, “Please don’t fight.”

Kara scooted over to Rose and placed her on her lap and Lena scooted over to Marigold and placed her on her lap. Marigold leaned her face against Lena’s stomach and softly cried. Lena embraced Marigold and started rubbing her head. 

She whispered in her ear softly,” Everything is going to be okay. Please don’t cry.”

Marigold stopped making noise but embraced Lena tighter. Violet moved towards Marigold and hugged her from behind. Kara turned Rose towards her and made sure that she was at eye level with Rose.

Kara said, “Rose, that isn’t nice.”

Rose whined, “But she was not getting to the point.”

Kara said softly, “I get having the urge of wanting someone to get to the point, but we don’t insult people who are being kind enough to provide valuable information. There is a saying on Earth that is popular: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Being mean and nasty doesn’t get you the information you want, but being kind and sweet does. Do you understand what I mean Rose?”

Rose looked up to Kara sadly but nodded. 

Kara smiled softly, rubbed Rose’s head, and asked, “Do you think there is something you should say to Marigold?”

Rose turned towards Marigold hesitantly while facing her head down and twiddling her thumbs. 

Rose looked up after a couple of moments and said softly, “I’m so sorry Marigold for hurting your feelings. Can you please forgive me?”

Marigold leaned back from Lena and turned towards Rose. She looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before smiling softly and said, “I forgive you.”

Rose smiled and ran to Marigold, hugged her, and kissed her on the cheek. Violet got up excitedly and ran towards Rose and Marigold and hugged them both. 

“I like it better when we don’t fight,” said Violet softly. 

Rose smiled and said, “Me too.”

“Me three!” exclaimed Marigold excitedly. 

Rose looked down at Marigold gently and said, “I really would like to hear about this puppy chow that you talked about.”

Marigold beamed and said, “Mama said that her friend once made it for her. It had weird ingredients that I never heard of, but she said that it was yummy.”

Kara cocked her head thoughtfully and said, “I wonder if it is like the puppy chow we have here. It is made using Chex cereal, peanut butter, chocolate, and powdered sugar. It is really tasty. I remember that parents used to make that a lot for school events.”

Marigold’s eyes brightened and said, “Those are the ingredients Mama talked about. I never had the other ingredients before, but if it uses the same chocolate that the brownies used, then it must be good.”

Lena looked at Marigold quizzically and asked, “Your Mama had Earth food before?”

Read the rest on AO3

[brattybede]

home for break

disclaimer: there are multiple ages i headcanon larry as of right now. i genuinely cannot grasp how old this man is.he’s old enough to be your father in this. i never actually mention an age for you or him. also there’s a whole ephemeralartshipping (brassius x hassel) scene at the end of this. i’ve been having mega hassel brainrot, oops.

—

“i’m home!” you shout as you walk into your childhood home.

your father pokes his head out from the kitchen, giving you a wave.

“you haven’t seen me in a whole month and i can’t even get a hello?” you pout.

“hello, i’m so glad my spoiled brat decided to grace me with their presence,” larry quips, in a monotone voice.

you stick your tongue out at your father before making your way to your bedroom to set your things down. upon returning to the kitchen, you find him finishing with some cooking.

“i made enough for you, don’t worry,” larry takes the plate to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table.

you pick up a bottle of water for yourself and make your way into the living room.

“i figured you were coming home, so i didn’t make them extra crispy,” larry picks up one of the rice balls and begins eating.

“how’d you know i was coming home?” you ask, mirroring your father’s actions.

“hassel told me your break started today, and i know you tend to check up on me because of work,” larry states, matter of factly.

“oh, right! that makes sense,” you reach for another rice ball.

“he also told me you’re having a hard time paying attention in his class.”

you glance over at your father, “no i’m not? he always has my attention. i probably pay the most attention to him actually.”

this causes larry to chuckle, “that’s not what he tells me. hassel tells me you’re always staring just past him.”

“you guys gossip about me at work? what happened to battling?” you whip your head over to your dad.

“it’s been slow lately,” he says, stuffing another rice ball in his mouth.

you choose to drink some of your water before speaking, “hassel is a snake and is now dead to me.”

“you’re being overdramatic.”

“well, your father doesn’t know that you have a crush on someone does he?” you roll your eyes.

“so it is a crush, got it. when can i meet them?” larry turns to you, a small smile resting on his face.

“never,” you get up from the couch, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

your father calls your name, causing you to turn and look at him, “tell arven i said hi for me.”

“tell hass to count his days,” you huff, making your way to your room.

—

bonus:

a rhythmic buzzing from the nearby coffee table interrupts the peaceful evening between hassel and brassius.

glancing down at the table in front of them, hassel notices it’s his phone causing the new sound in the room. he untangles his arm from around his lover and reaches for his phone.

“sorry, i have to take this. it’s… larry?” hassel states, confused as to why his colleague is calling now. the two rarely talked outside of their time spent at the league.

“don’t let me stop you,” brassius sits up.

“hello?”

“hey, just wanted to give you a heads up. your self-proclaimed nibling* is mildly upset with you.” larry explains, taking the plate from earlier to the sink.

“what happened?” hassel asks cautiously. last he saw them was before they left the academy. they wished him well over the break. what could have possibly happened between then and now?

“they know you told me about the whole arven thing. they’ll get over it, don’t worry too much about it hassel. i just figured i’d give you a heads up.”

“thanks…” the blond sighs, feeling himself get a little teary-eyed.

“i’m serious, don’t beat yourself up about it. i’ll talk to you later hass,” larry ends the phone call, leaving hassel to sigh once more.

brassius turns to his lover, “what was that about? is everything okay my love?”

“larry’s kid, the one i pointed out when you visited my class, they’re... mad at me right now apparently.” hassel sets his phone back down on the nearby table. 

“it can’t be that bad,” the other male chuckles, stroking his lover’s arm in a comfortable manner. “knowing them, they’ll forget about it before the break is over.”

“i hope so,” the dragon trainer leans over to brassius, giving the gym leader a kiss on his temple. 

—

* nibling is a gender-neutral term used to refer to a child of one's sibling as a replacement for "niece" or "nephew".

i try to keep my work as gender neutral as possible at best, female reader when needed but i honestly had to look up this term because there was no need to make this a female reader piece so… the more you know i guess

[v1ci0us]

Jenna encircled her arms around your waist, closing her eyes as she nuzzled her face on your shoulder, "I'd be with you though," she mumbled, words muffled against you.

umm, bye. a few sentences in and i’m already twirling my hair. u always know the perfect dialogue to write for each character that is so romantic. thinking abt this makes me all gooey inside

And it was true. It made you think for a moment that, to the naked eye, you two could easily be seen as a couple delaying their inevitable goodbye. That wasn't the case though, there wasn't a label to what you and Jenna were. Not yet. And it would have to wait until she came back.

what?! they rnt together yet?? and jenna is already so smitten, aww

It got Jenna chuckling, all teary-eyed and flushed cheeks. "You'll text me every day, right? Call too?"

"Of course I will, I already miss you," you pouted.

She squeezed your hands, "promise?"

"Promise."

blushing rn 🤭 that’s so cute 

Even if, involuntarily, you started to feel like a bit of a nuisance to her when she answered you with a plain 'u too' every now and then.

It happened slowly; Jenna became a stranger. A stranger you still loved greatly.

oh umm what. was not expecting this. ouch that stung

But that never happened.

You haven't seen Jenna ever since you said goodbye to her at the airport, ten months ago.

??? my heart is aching how do you do this so well

As of today, you haven't heard from her in two months. And if you cried about it a few nights ago, that's no one's business.

so true tho but that was such an unpredictable change 

For a fleeting second, the sight of your last unanswered text when you opened the conversation didn't make your heart clench in pain.

not us texting jenna right away 😭 this is so.. smile through the pain yk 

When the screen of your phone lit up, you swore you could almost feel your heartbeat stumbling. You picked it up so fast that it almost fell on your face.

helppp, the excitement—so realistically written, the feeling of distance but hesitance to let go and just holding onto the sweet memories 

'That's exciting' was her response to your rather long list of unanswered texts, the last one being the one of you talking about the new movie you're working on.

shattered my heart fr

"Hi, I- I had no idea you'd be coming," she told you, her eyes unable to find a place to focus on your face.

i am so ready to curse this girl out. obviously if u didn’t reply to my texts u must wanna talk irl 😊 likeee babe i love her but stop chasing after jenna it’s so.. 

"I didn't mean-" Jenna's voice broke halfway through and she clamped her mouth shut to avoid a making scene.

get out of here i never wanna see u again

She glanced back at you, taking hold of her dress in a white-knuckled grip to pull it up so she could walk faster; "I can't deal with you right now, okay? Please stop… crowding me."

good. we better start ignoring her i am so done this is just so frustratinggg and embarrassing like how can u even say that bro

"No, no, no," she stumbled out, trying again, "please pick up, please," the pleas fell out of her mouth with broken syllables.

you just realized??? like apparently we must b so forgettable huh 🤨

For the months that followed, Jenna tried calling you multiple times.

You never answered.

SLAYYY FR I HAVE BEEN WAITIJG FOR THIS I LOVE THESE KINDA FICS where the regret seeps in bit u moved on & r livin the life

Or that's what she had hoped, because when she stepped foot on set, she was greeted with the sight of none other than you. You who was animatedly talking with Emma as you held a few papers in your hands; a script, Jenna presumed. A script that had Wednesday written on its cover.

me personally i would’ve rejected the offer but just sayin 🤷‍♀️

If she missed you any harder, her heart might leap out of her chest and right into your hands.

this hurts though, like i feel the aches in my chesttt. u always nail it esther

Every minute that you weren't hers was a minute of pure agony.

no words. the angst is just hitting perfectly, leaving a lump in my throat literally 

“Not now, Jenna," you cut her off pretty quickly, drawing the attention of the few hairdressers around you. You cleared your throat; "we can talk about this later."

taste of ur own medicine fr. i love the nonchalant attitude i am so proud

"Security let me in… I convinced them," she explained, a faint blush tainting her freckled cheeks as she felt strangely self-conscious under your gaze.

this girl is crazy, it’s almost admirable. but i would still call security to get her out like ms girl what do u think ur doing in my hotel room?? that is literally breaking and entering 

You scoffed, walking past her and to the bedroom without a second glance, "so much for security."

noo fr cause arent they supposed to be doing their job?? how u gonna let someone in so easily without permission 

It was all it took for Jenna to break, because she saw herself being back in that airport with your hands holding onto her so tightly — and she missed you, so unbelievably much. She could taste her own tears on her lips, the grip she had on herself was almost bruising as soft sobs shook her body; "You mean everything to me, you have to know that. And losing you…" she hesitated, as if fearing that saying the words out loud made them true, her lower lip wobbling, "there's nothing I regret more."

just gonna leave this here because. no comment. this is so beautifully written i am losing my mind, pulling at my hair, and absolutely invested 

testimonies of her wounded heart that pulses with each beat for you, for you, for you.

byee ur combination of angst, comfort and romance is all i need in life. literally my ozygen atp

okay i definitely wrote too much and ranted (ignore that oops) but i didn’t read the summary and just went straight into it, got a bit obsessed. once i heard that a jenna fic was in the drafts i religiously refreshed ur page—not just for fics. like u don’t even understand how talented u r, i get so excited to read ur stuff, always. 

me personally i’m incredibly petty so i would’ve been uncaring until the last possible second

anyways that wraps up my sappy thoughts, hVe a good week esther and love u 🫶

this town’s for the record now

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Distance is a strange concept. Jenna feels no closer to you now than when you actually were on opposite sides of the world. If she missed you any harder, her heart might leap out of her chest and right into your hands.

Requested by @thenextdawn

A/N: Tweaked the idea just a slight bit but I hope you like it, sweetheart. I wrote half of this very much sleep deprived so if anything is weird blame it on that, also take some technical things here with a grain of salt because I know very little about how shooting movies/series works. Much love babes. <3

Word count: 5k (this got out of hand pretty fast)

Masterlist

The airport was bustling with people. Some arriving, tiredness clouding their features along with happiness as they were welcomed by loved ones; others speeding down the halls, suitcases in hand as they rushed to not miss their flights.

Jenna, though her flight was about to leave, was stalling. Her gaze skimmed over the crowd around. Her hands tightly held onto yours, as if you'd disappear if she loosened her grip.

And she wasn't too far off.

You brushed your thumb over the skin on her hand, trying to convey some sense of calmness, "I think it's time for you to go, otherwise the plane will leave without you."

Jenna grinned half-heartedly, swinging your joined hands around as she leaned her head on the wall to her right. "Would it be too bad if I let that happen?"

It was your little moment of peace. This corner of the airport suddenly became your fleeting safe haven for a precious second.

"I think," you started, pulling her towards you so you could wrap her in a hug, "some people would be very mad at you if you missed this flight."

Jenna encircled her arms around your waist, closing her eyes as she nuzzled her face on your shoulder, "I'd be with you though," she mumbled, words muffled against you.

Pulling back so you could look at her, you took hold of her hands again.

Honestly, you were striving to keep a strong facade on, to be the support you knew she needed. But deep down, you were holding back your own tears.

"It'll go by quickly, you'll see."

"It's eight months," Jenna sighed, "all the way on Romania. I'm excited about it, but, I never stayed away this long."

The 'we never stayed apart this long' went unsaid.

And it was true. It made you think for a moment that, to the naked eye, you two could easily be seen as a couple delaying their inevitable goodbye. That wasn't the case though, there wasn't a label to what you and Jenna were. Not yet. And it would have to wait until she came back.

"You'll be alright, I know you will," you encouraged, "you're gonna nail this role. You'll be the best Wednesday this world has ever seen," you smiled proudly, not an ounce of doubt in your words.

It got Jenna chuckling, all teary-eyed and flushed cheeks. "You'll text me every day, right? Call too?"

"Of course I will, I already miss you," you pouted.

She squeezed your hands, "promise?"

"Promise."

—

For those eight months, you kept your promise.

Every day you texted, called, and sometimes video-chatted with Jenna; checking up on her, lifting her mood, or simply talking.

You missed her more than you ever missed anyone in your life, and you could tell she felt the same. But for a while, it was bearable, because you talked every day.

Until Jenna started breaking the pattern.

It started slow, but steady. One unanswered text here, one missed call there, and suddenly you went two or three days without talking to each other.

It was comprehensible, Jenna was working after all. So you didn't think anything of it when the new normal became calling each other every four or five days.

But when those days spaced out, you counted yourself lucky if you heard from her at least once a week, and then every two weeks — her responses short and to the point.

Yet you kept sending her texts; simple 'good mornings' and 'hope you have an awesome day on set'. Because you promised you would, she asked you to.

Even if, involuntarily, you started to feel like a bit of a nuisance to her when she answered you with a plain 'u too' every now and then.

It happened slowly; Jenna became a stranger. A stranger you still loved greatly.

—

Hey Jen, how have you been? I just wanted to let you know that I got the role for that movie I texted you about a few weeks ago. So yeah, I'm very excited. Hope everything is well, I really miss you.

You stared at the message on your phone, your finger hesitating to tap the send button. You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to get rid of the nerves.

Sometimes it hurts, because it wasn't like this — though that reality feels very far away now.

The filming process for Wednesday wrapped almost three months ago. You knew that because right before she left Romania, Jenna had called you, and for a lovely moment, things felt okay; you could hear the tears in her voice when she told you how much she missed you, apologizing over and over for not keeping in touch and saying how much she couldn't wait to be back, promising to come see you soon.

But that never happened.

You haven't seen Jenna ever since you said goodbye to her at the airport, ten months ago.

You guessed that's what distance does to people.

Yet, the stubborn part of you still texts her sometimes, because when you close your eyes all you can see is that teary-eyed Jenna who made you swear to always keep in touch with her. So you do. You tell her about your little bits of progress in the acting career, about some roles you manage to get, and if you're lucky, you'll get a response with 'congratulations'.

As of today, you haven't heard from her in two months. And if you cried about it a few nights ago, that's no one's business.

You understand she's busy, you see it in her on every interview that you watch — because you know her, you know the way her posture changes when she's getting tired, you know her mannerisms when she's nervous, you know when her smile is not the brightest it can be — but you think that, if she felt for you as much as you feel for her, she'd try to keep in touch. She would come to see you.

You pressed send on the message and put your phone back in your pocket the very next second.

Sad as it may seem, you didn't expect an answer.

—

"Hey, wait up."

You looked back over your shoulder, only to see your cast mate jogging up to you in the parking lot, big smile on his face.

"Something wrong?" You asked, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder.

"No, not at all," he told you as he caught his breath, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder, "I just wanted to say, you did really good in there."

You averted your gaze when you felt your cheeks warming up, getting compliments from people infinitely more talented and popular than you would always feel surreal.

"I mean it," he ducked down, searching for your eyes, "that was one of the best monologues I've witnessed in a while."

"Thank you," you chuckled nervously, "it means a lot coming from you."

He waved off your words as if telling you, yet again, to stop putting him on a pedestal. "That being said, I've been meaning to ask if you'd be willing to audition for my next movie."

To say your eyes widened in surprise was an understatement, you asked him to repeat himself and he did; grinning fondly, telling you all about the natural talent you have and how he couldn't forgive himself if he allowed it to go to waste.

You, of course, agreed promptly. And squealed like a schoolgirl once he was out of earshot.

Before you got into your car, you took your cell phone from your backpack, still bubbling with excitement as the offer didn't quite feel real yet.

For a fleeting second, the sight of your last unanswered text when you opened the conversation didn't make your heart clench in pain.

Jenna, you won't believe what just happened…

—

The production of a movie of this caliber wasn't like anything you'd done before; there were so many things going on all at once, so many more people involved, so much more work for you — comes with the territory when playing the main character, you knew that, but still, it was all somewhat new for you.

By the end of most weeks, you were absolutely exhausted.

You pushed open the door of your trailer with a groan, rubbing your temple to try and chase away the beginnings of a headache.

The only lights you turned on were the ones in your little kitchen area, keeping the place dimly lit so it was easier on your tired eyes.

Not bothering to change out of your work clothes for now, you threw yourself on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief when you felt your muscles relax.

Maybe it was the late hour and the vulnerability of your worn-out body; but most nights after a busy day, you found your mind drifting to memories that involved a certain someone. If you closed your eyes forcefully enough, you could pretend to be back there — your shoulder pressed snuggly against hers as she told you all about her day on set, her fingers sneaking to intertwine with yours, the weight of her head when she'd inevitably succumb to sleep against you — memories exist outside of time anyway.

When the screen of your phone lit up, you swore you could almost feel your heartbeat stumbling. You picked it up so fast that it almost fell on your face.

Jenna's name was on your screen, and you hated the way that it brought tears to your eyes.

You hesitated when opening the text, not daring to breathe or get your hopes up.

'That's exciting' was her response to your rather long list of unanswered texts, the last one being the one of you talking about the new movie you're working on.

No 'how are you', no 'I miss you'.

You closed your eyes and felt a tear running down your cheek, typing back the one thing you felt;

Sometimes I wish I had let that plane leave without you.

—

The movie you starred in ended up being the push you needed to be recognized. It was a success, and you were the reason why.

It premiered only a few weeks after Wednesday did. Jenna became known worldwide, and you sort of did too.

And that's what it took for you to finally see each other again.

If someone told you a year ago that you'd be attending the Golden Globes, you'd call them crazy. Yet here you are; timidly smiling as a billion cameras flash in front of your eyes.

And in the midst of greeting acquaintances, posing for pictures, and talking to reporters, your eyes caught sight of her.

She was nothing short of divine, soft pinkish-brown dress fitting her to perfection and her hair way shorter than when you'd last seen her. You didn't think Jenna could ever be more beautiful, but she's apparently always proving you wrong.

It felt like a gravity pull on your heart, urging you to walk closer to her, and if you ditched a reporter or two along the way, you couldn't care less. Your stomach was twirling in apprehension, it shouldn't be but it is, because sad as it feels, you don't know what you mean to each other anymore.

Jenna had her back to you as she spoke with someone you didn't know. You could feel your hands slick with perspiration when you cleared your throat a little awkwardly. She probably didn't hear, so you resorted to lightly tapping her shoulder.

It felt like seeing her for the first time in your life at the same time that it felt like you never parted ways at all. Though there was this painful squeezing in your chest that's never been there before. You smiled softly, breathing out a simple; "hi."

Jenna's eyes widened the slightest bit when she saw you, her lips hanging open when she had trouble forming words; it was a one-second thing, she was quick to recover and get her features back to impassive. Something you knew all too well was a bad habit of hers — suppressing what she's feeling.

"Hi, I- I had no idea you'd be coming," she told you, her eyes unable to find a place to focus on your face.

You pursed your lips, acutely aware of the cameras on every corner of the place. "Yeah, I tried to tell you but, you must've missed my text." The words felt heavy on your tongue, your smile didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I didn't mean-" Jenna's voice broke halfway through and she clamped her mouth shut to avoid a making scene.

It got you looking up to meet her gaze, and there were so many emotions swimming in her eyes that you couldn't put your finger on any of them.

Before you or she could say anything else, a reporter was calling out for Jenna, drawing both of your attention.

Jenna glanced between you and the reporter, before adjusting her posture and managing a smile. "I'll see you later, okay?" She told you, already turning away from you.

"No, Jenna wait, can't we talk?" You tried reaching out for her hand but she pulled away.

"Not right now."

"I just wanted to-"

She glanced back at you, taking hold of her dress in a white-knuckled grip to pull it up so she could walk faster; "I can't deal with you right now, okay? Please stop… crowding me."

Her voice had little emotion to it, but it froze you in place nonetheless. You figured a knife to the heart might hurt less.

Jenna walked away from you, smiling and waving to the cameras whilst you strived to not make the headlines as the actress who cried at the Golden Globes for apparently no reason.

So you were right in the end, she saw you as nothing but a nuisance.

—

There was a team waiting to help her get rid of the makeup and glam if she so wanted, but Jenna sent them away.

After such an event, there was nothing she desired more than peace.

Jenna's steps were slow and dragged as she made her way inside her hotel room, still holding onto her long dress, though with much less care than she did in front of the cameras. Part of it is always an act.

She ran a hand through her hair, messing up the previously perfectly styled waves with a sigh.

The shower had been long awaited and she almost napped on the bathtub; not really bothering to meticulously clean up the makeup, leaving a few smudges of eyeshadow here and there — that could be a problem for tomorrow.

And there was nothing more blissful than putting on sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

Her life has been nothing short of hectic ever since starting the filming for Wednesday, so Jenna enjoyed 200% every little time to relax that she had. Though today, she was restless, something had a tight hold on her chest and she couldn't pinpoint what.

She tossed and turned on her bed, unable to sleep even if she was exhausted and she wasn't sure why insomnia decided to kick in now.

That is, until she took her cell phone and a few clips of the event started popping up on the internet, and she caught sight of a picture where, in the background, she could be seen talking with you.

Oh.

That's where this hollowness is coming from.

The bedroom was quiet, the only things she could hear if she strained her ears were the cars way down on the road outside and the faint drizzle that started falling.

It was so quiet, so calm, that for the first time, Jenna felt it. She felt the weight of the past months downing on her.

Jenna had been running on autopilot, so much so, that she became numb to a few of her own emotions. And maybe a few people too.

There was a sudden lump in her throat. Jenna sat up quickly on her bed, clawing at her chest because she couldn't breathe. She mumbled curses under her breath, vision instantly getting blurred as tears collected on the bottom lid of her eyes.

If this wasn't a panic attack, it was something very close to it.

Jenna scrambled for her phone and hastily typed your number on it, shaky fingers bringing the device to her ears.

She held onto her breath when the line started ringing; and when it rang for the last time, she was already sobbing.

"No, no, no," she stumbled out, trying again, "please pick up, please," the pleas fell out of her mouth with broken syllables.

Distantly, she knew she had it coming, she hadn't been fair with you, or with herself. You were Jenna's weakest point, if she had allowed herself to miss you, she'd drop everything to go back. So she bottled up the feeling.

But sooner or later, it would surface, and it hurts more than she thought it would — because maybe her decision had cost her you.

Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, with tears trickling down her cheeks and dripping from her chin — she felt alone, so excruciatingly alone.

Jenna didn't sleep that night.

—

For the months that followed, Jenna tried calling you multiple times.

You never answered.

—

It didn't take long for Wednesday to be renewed for season two. It also didn't take long for filming to start.

Jenna saw herself going back to staying in a foreign country for months in what felt like no time at all. But this time around she knew what to expect, how to prepare herself for it.

Or that's what she had hoped, because when she stepped foot on set, she was greeted with the sight of none other than you. You who was animatedly talking with Emma as you held a few papers in your hands; a script, Jenna presumed. A script that had Wednesday written on its cover.

Jenna halted on her steps immediately, sneakers scratching against the floor; the grip she had on her backpack tightening significantly. No amount of internal pep talks could ever prepare her for this.

Next thing she knew, Emma had caught sight of her and was walking in her direction with you hot on her tail. Jenna felt like curling into a ball to try and disappear — not because she didn't want to see you, but because of what she did last time it happened. Part of her knows she won't be able to face your rejection without breaking.

"Jenna, you're finally here," Emma pulled her friend into a hug. Jenna held her back promptly, grateful to have something to momentarily hold on to.

"Yeah," she breathed, "it was a- a long flight." She couldn't help the way her eyes darted to you. And you were so… blank, emotionless.

"Have you met our new cast member? This is Y/n." Emma happily gestured to you, taking a step back so Jenna could properly see you.

There was a heaviness in the air, more than a year's worth of bottled-up feelings just hanging on by a thin thread. Jenna gulped back the lump forming in her throat. It was longing and hurt and guilt altogether.

She had never felt this. Missing someone to the point of feeling like your chest is being ripped open, as if they're on the other side of the world even if, in reality, they're right in front of you — just a few inches forward and she'd touch you. Yet it feels impossible.

"Hi," was all Jenna could utter.

You nodded once, with a clenched jaw and crossed arms, "hi Jenna."

—

You were avoiding her.

And it was nothing short of torture.

You were avoiding Jenna, as much as two people who work together can avoid each other, but still, you were doing a terrific job. Jenna only caught glimpses of you when it was absolutely necessary.

She had this hole in her chest; it made her restless and anxious. It's been only a week and Jenna already feels like she can't take it anymore. She knows it's affecting her work; she's not able to focus the way she did before, she finds herself zoning out whilst looking at doorways and waiting for you to walk in — most of the time you never do.

Right now, Jenna is sitting in front of a mirror as she gets her hair done for the day. She arrived a little late today, her sleepless nights finally catching up to her right on a Tuesday morning.

The distant smell of hair spray still hung in the air, the bright lights around the mirror still hurt her sleepy eyes so she keeps them closed, enjoying the feeling of the hairdresser doing her braids. She paid no mind when she heard the door opening or when the chair beside hers creaked. Only opening her eyes when your voice greeted the other people in the room.

Jenna didn't dare breathe. She looked at you through the mirror, your gazes meeting for half a second before you averted yours.

Was it too bad that she already kinda felt like crying?

There was this painful tug on her heart whenever Jenna did see you. It felt like remembering all of your good memories all at once — and they mocked her, told her she'd never have anything like it again.

Distance is a strange concept. She feels no closer to you now than when you actually were on opposite sides of the world.

If she missed you any harder, her heart might leap out of her chest and right into your hands.

You're looking everywhere except at her. It's almost bittersweet that Jenna can tell exactly just how nervous you are. Fidgeting on your seat, tapping your knee.

For a moment she wants to reach out and hold your hand, it used to calm you down, ground you.

She doesn't. Instead, she asks; "have you been enjoying the filming so far?" The words tasted strange on her tongue. Like they're all wrong and it's not what she should be saying to you when there's a ten-foot wall between you and her.

You hesitated, as if wondering if she was really talking to you. "Uh yeah, it's been a great experience so far," you said eventually, choosing to glance up at her through the mirror instead of turning your head to actually meet her gaze.

Jenna smiled, just a soft tilt of her lips.

Every minute that you weren't hers was a minute of pure agony.

And it was hardly the proper place for it, but with not knowing when she'd have the opportunity to speak with you again, Jenna took in a deep breath, and tried; "look, I- I've been meaning to apologi-"

"Not now, Jenna," you cut her off pretty quickly, drawing the attention of the few hairdressers around you. You cleared your throat; "we can talk about this later."

—

Ultimately, there was no 'later'. Jenna couldn't get a moment alone with you after that, and you made no effort either.

But when you love someone enough, you tend to make a few reckless decisions.

Jenna was staying in the same hotel as you, just a few doors away from yours, and she was a good actress.

It was late at night when you unlocked the door of your hotel room. You turned on the lights and instantly jumped back, almost tripping on your own feet; your soul leaving your body for a second.

"What the hell," you mumbled, with a hand over your erratic heart.

Jenna raised her hands and took a step back, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just me."

"How-" you gestured towards her, taking your backpack off your shoulder as the door clicked close behind you, "why-"

"Security let me in… I convinced them," she explained, a faint blush tainting her freckled cheeks as she felt strangely self-conscious under your gaze.

The hotel room wasn't big, quaint with its industrial-styled decorations and orange lighting; but with just the two of you occupying the space, it felt all kinds of intimate.

You scoffed, walking past her and to the bedroom without a second glance, "so much for security."

It hurt, way more than Jenna would care to admit. But part of her knew she brought it on herself. She followed after you, burying her hands in the pockets of her hoodie to hide the slight tremble of her fingers.

Your bedroom was even plainer than the main rooms. All your belongings are pushed to one side and filled only the lonely dresser by the ensuite bathroom door. It reminded Jenna of her own room.

She lazily brought her gaze back to you, her stomach twisting unpleasantly with apprehension; "I just wanted to talk."

Jenna's voice was small, uncharacteristically so, tugging at your heartstrings with each syllable.

This was just Jenna. No actress. No star. Just your Jenna.

You almost gave in right then and there.

But you had your back to her, fidgeting with the zipper on your bag to keep yourself busy. Her presence, her perfume, it filled the whole room, "now you want to talk?"

"I know, I was an- an awful friend to you," Jenna started, unable to stay still on her stance, "I know I should've called more and I'm so-" a sob broke through her voice, you were nothing but a blur in front of her.

"I'm so sorry for what I said," it was nothing but a whisper, said while Jenna hugged herself tightly, chasing some semblance of comfort that wasn't there. Her sudden vulnerability startled you.

You heard it loud and clear, it brought tears to your own eyes, even if you had promised you wouldn't cry anymore.

"That I was just something you had to deal with?" You finally turned to look at her then, and you strived to keep yourself impassive, because Jenna was far from okay.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and filled with tears that were just a blink away from spilling over. She looked so small in the spacious room. "That's not true. Not what I meant."

"Well, that's what it felt like, okay?" Your months of hurting escaped you, "so I'm sorry I kept my promise and I'm sorry it crowded you but you-" you took in a shaky breath to steady yourself, glancing up at the ceiling then back at her, "you meant a lot to me, Jenna…"

It was all it took for Jenna to break, because she saw herself being back in that airport with your hands holding onto her so tightly — and she missed you, so unbelievably much. She could taste her own tears on her lips, the grip she had on herself was almost bruising as soft sobs shook her body; "You mean everything to me, you have to know that. And losing you…" she hesitated, as if fearing that saying the words out loud made them true, her lower lip wobbling, "there's nothing I regret more."

You almost didn't catch her words given the unsteadiness of her voice. It was too much for you and your bleeding heart. You couldn't physically bear to stay one second more away from her.

You walked closer slowly, tentatively, until you were able to embrace her to you.

Jenna buried herself into you, her tears soaking your shirt as you practically held most of her weight all on your own. She held you so strongly you almost had trouble breathing.

For a moment it was all that was needed, you and her holding what was left of each other together.

"I never meant for it to happen," Jenna whispered against you, damp lips grazing the skin on your shoulder, "I never- I was in a bad place and, after the f-filming for Wednesday wrapped up I got called for so many other things I didn't even have time to breathe." She curled herself onto you, her grip only tightening as if trying to merge you into her so you'd never part ways again.

You ran your hand up and down her back, leaving goosebumps on her skin and feeling your own tears trickling down your cheeks. There's no putting into words how much you're able to miss someone until you're holding them again. Until you can finally come home to each other.

For the first time in more than a year, you could breathe.

"I'm so tired," Jenna's small voice came again, tender, right beside your ear, "everything was so overwhelming, I- I felt so alone," she nuzzled her nose against your neck, and you wondered for a moment how long it's been since she allowed herself to receive any kind of comfort.

A beat passed until you were able to find your voice again, a little hoarse and unsteady; "you could've told me, I would've been there, Jenna. You know I would've done anything and more to help you."

With a sniff, Jenna finally pulled back, just enough to look into your eyes, "I know," she pursed her lips, one hand coming up to brush at her cheek, damp with tear tracks — testimonies of her wounded heart that pulses with each beat for you, for you, for you.

With your silence, Jenna kept going, if anything, out of desperation; "I'm so sorry, please I- you must know I never meant for it to go like that."

Teardrops clung to her eyelashes too, eyes shining brightly under the dim lights of the bedroom and her nose a little red. Oh, how you missed her.

You gently raised your hands to her cheeks, your thumbs brushing away a few tiny tears that still escaped her. "It's okay," you breathed.

"Please don't leave me," she mumbled, a soft sob cutting through.

"Not leaving," you promised, leaning up to kiss her forehead, "I'd never leave you."

When her eyes found yours again, Jenna stumbled forward out of instinct, her nose bumping yours.

You closed the gap with the encouragement you knew she needed, "you know I'm never capable of staying mad at you for too long," you chuckled, your lips grazing hers. You were home.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Jenna’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @thenextdawn @alexkolax @aahdiieb @mindingmybidness12 @melthedwarf @smugchorizo @the-lazy-turtle @vorsdany @jjsmaybank20 @wol-fica @v1ci0us

[no-droids]

Home

gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

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

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

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

Day 5–11:13am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Extravagant, magnificent are both words.  Floral is another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s here… isn’t he?

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

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

This… this is a taunt.  

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

“You okay, Nerida?”

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when you see him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unless…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naydee smiles and nods.  “Sounds perfect.”

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

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

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

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something catches your eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Behind you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

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

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

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

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

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

—Bong—

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

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

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

One o’clock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes you a second.

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

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

“Ma—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Commotion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crib—he forgot the crib—

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

You raise your voice.  “Din?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, well.  You could just about fucking cry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home.

***

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

[bellesowl]

kiss and make up

- multiple characters 

⤷ atsumu, sakusa

genre: (an attempt at) angst to fluff ; established relationship, timeskip 

synopsis: in which you have an almost relationship-ending argument

word count: 2.1k total - about 1k each

warnings: fighting (obv), being called a burden, the boys are kinda mean but they make up for it i swear

- a/n: tbh i was kinda getting sick of writing just fluff so i wanted to spice it up a lil! if this sucks i’m probably going to stick to fluff fics but i think it should be fine? this one also only has 2 characs cause idk how i would be at writing angst LMAO if this does well enough i’ll post the one i have written w kuroo and iwa <3 but i feel like this kinda sucks so oh well

- thank u @kybabi for beta-ing <3

- miya atsumu

you n atsumu have been together since high school which is why you’ve always been inseparable

you went to the same college & moved in together right after, but once he got his job with the jackals, he insisted that you didn’t work and focused on getting your master’s degree

you reluctantly agreed, if only to be able finish & earn your phd soon after

because atsumu is always busy, it’s kinda become commonplace for you to do the chores around the house- like doing the laundry or washing the dishes or cooking dinner for him

but it’s gotten to the point where he expects it

atsumu sighs, unlocking the door to your shared apartment. today’s practice was rough, it was a day of hard conditioning and bad sets and he wanted nothing more than a good meal and to cuddle. the first thing he noticed when he walked in was the mess. instant ramen bowls were scattered everywhere, empty coke cans and dirty napkins were all over the floor, and there you were, in the eye of the hurricane. the second thing he noticed was that there was no homecooked meal.

surprised, he walks into the dining room to see you, furiously typing away at your laptop with four different books surrounding you. you hear his footsteps and look up.

“hey baby! how was practice?” you ask with a smile

atsumu grunts in reply and gestures toward the kitchen, “so.. what’s for dinner babe?”

your eyes widen, “oh shoot! i’m sorry, i was so busy studying for this final that i forgot to cook. do you mind-“ you stop when you see him roll his eyes and head out.

“um, where are you going? you just got home?” you ask, following him.

“out. i have to get food somehow” he replies, “especially because my useless s/o can’t cook a goddamn meal for me” he mutters under his breath

you stop in shock because did he really just say that?

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i heard you right.” you start but he interrupts you

“i said, i have to go get food because someone is too busy to cook a goddamn meal. what do you even do anyways- well, besides spend my money? the least you can do is cook for me, god.” he finally turns to look at you but he feels his heart stop at the look on your face.

not wanting to escalate the situation any further, you try to calm him down, “tsum, hey, i’m sorry i forgot to cook okay? this is my last final before the year ends and i just can’t afford to fail it, so i’ve been studying all day. if you come back to the kitchen, i’ll make you something, okay?”

“i don’t want to eat your half assed attempt at a meal, y/n. the whole point is that you couldn’t get off your ass for an hour to cook when i make the money, i paid for the apartment, hell, i’m even paying for your school! is it really too much to ask for you to stop being such a burden and cook and clean everyday?” he fumed.

you gape at him, shocked that he would even say that. to hell with not escalating things

“at least i want to do something more with my life than hit balls around and retire at 35” you hiss, “and i do everything in this house! i do the laundry, i clean the bathroom, i cook - i do all the things you refuse to. and do i complain? no. i offered to get a job but you refused.”

you turn around to grab your laptop and your textbooks, “just- just do whatever the hell you want to, atsumu.” and with that you walk out the door.

atsumu’s heart drops when he realizes that you actually left. sure, you’ve had arguments here and there, but you’ve never left. he pulls out his phone to call you when he sees you’ve left yours on the counter. knowing there’s nothing to do but wait at this point, he begins to clean up and calls osamu over.

-

it’s already 3 am when you walk back into your apartment, and you blink multiple times when you open the door. it’s ... clean? you’re sure it was a mess when you left, so how would it be clean? you sigh, too tired to think about it more and walk into the kitchen. your eyes widen at the sight. not only is your favorite food on the stove, but there your boyfriend is, asleep on the dining table. you smile slightly, well that explains things.

“ ‘’mu, hey, wake up babe.” you kiss him lightly and shake him.

he grunts and sits up, “baby! i’m so so sorry for what i said. you are in no way, shape, or form a burden, i have no clue why i said that. today’s practice was just really tiring, but i know i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. just please-” he sighs, “just please don’t leave me again.”

your heart breaks your teary eyed boyfriend. “shh, of course baby. i’ll never leave you again okay?” you say, tugging on his arm, “cmon babe, let’s go to bed, okay?”

“mm okay my love.” he replies and practically pulls you into bed. “i love you, okay?”

“i love you too baby.” you reply

“to the moon and back?” he asks

“yeah, and to infinity and beyond.” you reply, your lack of sleep hitting you hard

“oh, i didn’t know i was dating buzz lightyear”

you let out a loud laugh and just like that you both fall into the same routine, love radiating off both of you in waves.

- sakusa kiyoomi

dating sakusa was,, challenging

it definitely took him a while to get comfortable with you

so you guys have been dating for a couple years now, and at this point he’s def clingy

however there still moments when he reverts to his old self

this just happened to be one of those times

“OUT! AND JUST LIKE THAT, EJP RAIJIN TAKES THE WIN AGAINST THE BLACK JACKALS!”

the stadium is silent before the ejp cheering section erupts in cheers. you stay silent, watching your team below. you watch as sakusa stills, still in disbelief. you make your way down, practically sprinting to your boyfriend.

he sees you on the sideline and makes his way over to you. you put on your biggest smile and attempt to make him feel better.

“you did great, kiyo! you’ll get them next time, yeah?” you beam, knowing how hard he’s been training to beat his cousin

he eyes you warily, not knowing what to say.

usually, sakusa gets pretty clingy after games, so you you move to give him a hug.

“don’t touch me” he barked, jerking away from you. “if you hadn’t been distracting me, we would’ve won.”

you stare at him, refusing to let the tears flow. you both turn when you hear a certain setter yelling at the opposing middle and you sigh.

“um, okay then. i’ll see you at home, yeah?” you ask

sakusa merely nods and makes his way over to his teammates. you look around to see if anyone saw what just happened and you lock eyes with your boyfriend’s cousin, who walks over.

“congrats on the win komori! you guys did so well!” you cheered

“thanks, y/n! and i’m sorry about kiyoomi. i’m sure you know he gets that way sometimes.” he explains

you smile and shake your head, saying that you’re used to it and you both bid your farewells. as you walk out of the stadium, you think back to how your boyfriend, the one person you loved with everything you had in you, utterly embarrassed you in front of his whole team. before you know it, silent tears start streaming down your face. 

you enter your home and immediately rush to the bathroom. you draw yourself a bath and make some dinner while waiting. you assume that kiyoomi wouldn’t be home to have dinner with you anyways- and now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you had dinner together. after you finish your bath and eat your dinner, you decide to wait up for boyfriend and watch a couple episodes of your favorite show to pass the time. 

-

kiyoomi walks into his apartment at around 1 am, completely and utterly exhausted. he kicks his shoes off and drops his bag on the floor. The rustling rouses you from sleep and you sit up.

“hey kiyo” you say with a yawn, “where’ve you been all night?” 

sakusa ignores you in favor of getting ready for bed and you frown when he brushes past you. 

“kiyo, babe, what��s wrong? you’ve been ignoring me all night and i-” you start but he interrupts you before you can finish. 

“god, just shut up, y/n. can’t you tell i don’t want to talk to you right now? i’ve already had the worst day, i don’t need you making it any worse.” he snaps

"kiyoomi, look, i understand you’re upset but you shouldn’t take it out on me.” you reason, reaching out towards him, “listen, i’m here if you wanna-” 

“i said, do not touch me.” he seethes. “you are so fucking clingy y/n, lord, let me breathe a little.”

with those words, you explode. “you know what, sakusa,” he flinches when he hears his last name come out of your mouth, “i think i have the right to want to spend some time with my boyfriend! i haven’t seen you in god knows how long- you leave before i wake up and i fall asleep in an empty bed. i’ve been working my ass off to get some time off to watch your stupid volleyball game and what do you do? you embarrass me in front of your whole team!”

you sigh, wiping away the tears that continue that continue to fall. “listen, i don’t want to fight right now. i’m going to go stay at a friend’s house for the night, alright? i’ll see you tomorrow” you say, grabbing your purse. “if you’re even home tomorrow,” you add under your breath.

sakusa is in shock. the moment he saw your tears start to spill, he felt an undeniable and unrelenting ache in his chest that only seemed to grow with every work that came out of your mouth. and when the door shut? sakusa fell on his knees, his heart dropping. he truly couldn’t believe he said that to you. now all he had to do was wait till you got home.

-

2:38 pm - you check the time on your phone before pulling out your keys. you hope you made the right move, choosing to come back home while kiyoomi was still at practice. you open the door and the sight causes your eyes to widen.

there, on the couch with your favorite flowers in hand, is your boyfriend. he hears the door open and stands up abruptly.

“y/n, my love, i am so sorry. i truly cannot express how horrible i feel, and i cannot begin to understand how you feel.” he takes a deep breath, seemingly holding back tears. “i- i do love you. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. i know i’m not the best at expressing it, but you mean the world to me- no, you are my world. without you, i don’t know what i would do. so please-” his voice cracks, “just, please give me another chance?”

you run towards your boyfriend, practically tackling him. “kiyo, baby, of course. i love you too, you know? you just can’t do that anymore, yeah? you shouldn’t feel like you have the right to embarrass me just because you had a bad day. and please, don’t call me clingy? i know i do stick to you like glue sometimes, but that’s just because i never see you anymore.” you reply.

“that will all change, darling.” he answers sincerely, “i’ll make more time for you, i swear. in fact, i’ll take the week off, how does that sound?” at the sight of your smile, he relaxes.

“that sounds wonderful, yoomi.” you answer

sakusa feels the weight that’s been dragging him down lift and he realizes the effect you have on him- you’re his breath of fresh air. he also realizes how utterly idiotic it was to push away the one person who could make him feel better.

it’s fine, he reasons, he’ll just never make that mistake again. he swears it.

[jeongwife]

THIS college bf!jeonghan coming home to u being frustrated and teary eyed bc of your schoolworks and he decides that you need a break then gives you the most comforting sex and best orgasm(s) ever 😩

- can i be 🎐 anon?

no but jeonghan looked so good today wth 🥲🥲🥲😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 and i love how we all agree that this is the ultimate college boyfie look ahjdhwjs i feel nothing but pain ;-; 💔 and yesss you can be 🎐 anon <333

he’s immediately concerned the moment he walks through the door, having received no response when he called out to you. it’s only when he quietly enters your room when he realises the reason—you hunched over your desk, still typing away at your computer despite the exhaustion on your face and the frustrated tears forming in your eyes. “baby,” he calls out softly, pulling your chair back and crouching down in front of you while taking your hands in his, “i think it’s time to take a break, hm? you can’t work like this.” you crumble in jeonghan’s touch almost instantly, breaking down into quiet sobs as he strokes your cheeks and wipes away the tears that leak down them, murmuring soft reassurances as you let everything out. he smiles at you comfortingly as you sniffle, petting your hair and rubbing your shoulders while you start to calm down, making sure you save your work before guiding you to your bed. “my poor baby,” he whispers as he trails kisses down your neck, “let me take care of you, okay? let me make my pretty baby feel good.”

he’ll go down on you until you’re a trembling mess, his hands holding your thighs part as he licks at your clit and entrance. you moan when you feel jeonghan’s tongue dip into your dripping slit, collecting the arousal that leaks out of you before taking your swollen bud into his mouth and sucking. your hips are bucking wildly towards his face, but he holds you down as he continues pleasuring you with his tongue, determined to make you cum as many times as you can on his mouth. your pussy is beyond sensitive when jeonghan finally pulls away, having cum multiple times just from his skilled tongue. “taste so good, baby,” he praises while stroking your cheeks lovingly, “you’ve been so good for me. are you ready for more, sweetheart?” he asks, to which you rock your hips against his, pleas spilling from your lips as you beg him to fuck you. he holds you close as he thrusts into you, his hands caressing every inch of your body to remind you he’s there, pressing kisses all over your face as you let out the prettiest moans for him. he buries his head into your neck, nipping at the skin and murmuring more praises about how good you feel and how much he loves you.

jeonghan grins at your high-pitched squeals when his hand trails down your body to rub soft circles into your sensitive clit, his cock curving up against your walls and stroking that sweet spot inside you. “are you gonna cum, sweetheart?” he asks sweetly, placing another kiss to your temple, “it’s okay, i’ve got you. cum nice and hard around my cock.” your orgasm hits you as you moan loudly, trembling under jeonghan as he continues rubbing your clit to help your ride out your orgasm. the spamming of your walls has him cumming inside you after a few more deep thrusts, his hands holding you still as he unloads all his cum within your warm cunt. “there we go, you’ve been so good for me, baby,” he says, pulling out of you gently before leaving to grab a warm towel to clean you up. he’d be so sweet during the aftercare too, cuddling you close to him after cleaning you up and dressing you in fresh pyjamas, stroking your hair to lull you to sleep while mumbling words of reassurance and love <3

— admin lily

[sylkithecat]

PalmerStrange in DSMOM

Read at your own risk. BIG SPOILERS. 

Saw the movie earlier today, as it was released in the PH, 2 days ahead of other countries. English is not my first language so bear with me. This post is all about PalmerStrange in the movie. I might not write all PalmerStrange moments, only which I remember/has big impact on me. 

Stephen was unhappy and full of regrets, and it’s understandable why he chose to help Peter in NWH. Stephen was very much like What if Strange Supreme in terms of his relationship with Christine, he just wants to be with her. (“I only want you”) 

As Christine walks down the aisle, you can see how much Stephen was in pain. The one in the trailer was a glimpse, but the full & movie version was really sad too watch. (Got teary eyed in that one, lol) 

 At the wedding reception, PalmerStrange talk a little about happiness/their past relationship.  Wong also did not know Stephen attended Christine’s wedding.

“You married Christine?” -  America Chavez (in a very surprise tone) upon learning that Stephen left “ a wedding” to help her. Obviously, there are multiple universe out there, and all of which has a PalmerStrange variant that were together. Sadly, just like with their “sacred timeline” variant, they didn’t end up together. 

Stephen Strange’s significant memory is the time Christine gave the watch.  😖😫😩🥺😢😭

Red haired Christine’s Stephen, died or was killed (?) really did not hear that part because other movie goers were cheering when they saw the Illuminati scene. UGH. -_- BUT LASHANA LYNCH as CAPTAIN MARVEL. MY HEART!!!!! I love her!!!!

Sinister Strange was ready to give the darkhold book copy/variant to Stephen, however in exchange of Christine (red/pink hair variant) --> Yup, all of Strange’s variant just want to be with their Christine. 

When Wanda was able to destroy the darkhold, PalmerStrange had a moment where Strange says he wants variant-Christine to see the world he lives in, variant Christine says she would love to (see it.) Stephen says, “I love you. I love in all universe” then Christine proceeds to hold his face (like in the first movie.) It was bittersweet honestly.  (Michael Waldron pulling all those heart breaking lines just like with sylki/Loki TV)

At the end of the movie, he repaired his broken watch (replacing the broken glass) and kept it in a box. Letting go of them, of her. Accepting the fact that its the end of their time together. 

Others:

I think it was Clea, appearing at the post credit scene. 

[tenelkadjowrites]

Addicting Kitten Part Four - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

This is an Ateez fic.

PART ONE HERE. PART TWO HERE. PART THREE HERE. FINAL PART HERE.

Summary: After a horrible day, you try to cancel plans on Seonghwa. But when he offers to come over to comfort you, you end up discovering a different side of him...and perhaps realize something as well.

Genre and warnings: smut. goth corrupter seonghwa with innocent reader. fem pronouns. reader is called “kitten”. unprotected sex. dirty talk. cum eating. oral sex. squirting. 

Word count: 3,770.

Tag list: @multistan-net - @chronosavrus - @gyubaby - @ayoo-bangtan - @sktbzc0re - @lizsvcks - @xduygu-arsx - @raysanshine - @jucobego - @park-simphwa - @obligatoryidolblog - @iusrene - @billboard-singer - @thewonderofkpop - @sunsethw4 

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

           The only thing you feel like doing is sinking in bed and living there…perhaps forever. Or maybe becoming a hermit and residing in the mountains somewhere. With internet access, of course. Anything to drown out the horrible day you had. It was as if one thing after another popped up to make you feel worse.

           You had somehow slept through your alarm and got to work late which resulted in your boss lecturing you severely enough to make you dart off to the bathroom afterwards and cry. Then, your stupid heel actually snapped, leaving you hobbling around. They had been one of your favourite pairs of shoes too. On top of that, you realized that you had forgotten one of your friends’ birthdays, sending a late happy birthday text as you got in your car after work. Their reply was cold, and they stopped replying soon after, making you feel guilty.

           You weren’t sure why all of it snowballed to make you feel so horrible. But the next time your phone rang, you are still teary eyed, vision blurring too much to make out whose face time call you are even answering.

           “Kitten, I was just…what’s wrong?” Seonghwa’s tone shifts from his usual flirtatious one to concerned.

           You are embarrassed that it is Seonghwa seeing you like this. It has been three weeks since the first night you spent at his house and you saw him multiple times a week since then. Each time you saw him, he promptly fucked your brains out in various ways – typically always with going down on you first, and then trying out every position under the sun with you to see what you liked the most.

           “Nothing, I just had a shitty day,” You sniffle, rubbing your eyes of tears quickly, “It’s fine.”

           “What happened?” He asks, still frowning.

           “Nothing, it’s stupid.”

           “Can’t be stupid if it made you this upset,” Seonghwa retorts, “Are you at home?”

           You nod, “I don’t feel like doing anything today, Seonghwa. Is that okay?”

           He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth impatiently, “Of course it’s okay, do you think I’d be mad about that? Come over anyway.”

           Your eyes widen a little in surprise, “But Seonghwa…”

           “Kitten, I can see you and not fuck you,” He still sounds impatient, “But if you’re upset, I’d feel better if you were here.”

           You hesitate. Yes, you have been to Seonghwa’s place a lot lately, so much that your roommate has started teasing you about having a secret lover. But never have you gone over there just to…hang out.

           “Would you rather I come there?” He seems to sense your hesitation.

           Your roommate had left this morning for the weekend, going off with their family on a mini trip. You were planning to be depressed for the next two days but can feel your resolve wavering at the idea of Seonghwa coming over.

           “Okay,” You hear yourself say, “Come over.”

*

           Less than an hour later, there is a knock on your door. You exhale slowly, opening it to see Seonghwa.

           He is dressed casually in just an oversized black hoodie, black jeans with holes in the knees, and a bag slung over his shoulder. He is also bare faced; ever since the night you removed his makeup, Seonghwa was seemingly comfortable seeing you without all the goth makeup on. Standing there, tall and lean, his face serious with those high cheekbones and concerned expression – well, maybe you did feel a little weak in the knees.

           Just seeing him weirdly makes you feel better. The sheer amount of time you have spent around him has led you to know Seonghwa’s body as well as your own, to recognize his moods and learning the way he thinks about things. It is comforting to know someone on that level, you think. Even though you had a horrible day, you are still taken aback by how handsome he looks…cozy too, from being all bundled up in the hoodie.

           “Kitten,” He says by way of greeting, closing the door behind him and wrapping his arms around your waist, smushing you against him.

           You sink against him, closing your eyes. Even the cigarette smell clinging to his hoodie is now comforting. His hands rub your back softly, kissing the top of your head.

           “You tell me what I can do for you,” Seonghwa murmurs.

           “Just lay in bed with me,” You blurt out, “Today was horrible.”

           Seonghwa’s hand finds yours, and you tug him out of the living room and into your bedroom. He has never been here before and the space is the polar opposite of his. His eyes sweep the room as you plop down on the bed.

           “Are you gonna make fun of my room?” You mumble.

           “Not today,” Seonghwa teases lightly as he slides on the bed next to you, “Here, come here.”

           He shifts so that he is leaning back on the pillows, pulling you towards him. You curl up against his body, not caring if you are being clingy, not caring if this isn’t something you have ever done with him before. He offered to come over and said he knew you wouldn’t be having sex, after all.

           At the foot of your bed is the TV which Seonghwa turns on, bringing up Netflix. “What do you want to watch?”

           “I don’t care,” You mumble into his hoodie, “No I lied…nothing scary.”

           “Not a horror movie fan, kitten? You can hold onto me if you get scared.” Seonghwa’s arm is wrapped around you, fingers toying with your hair.

           As enticing as that sounds, you still balk at the idea of a horror movie after the day you had. Seonghwa puts it on a generic bland reality show about rich people looking for houses to buy, immediately mocking it. He doesn’t ask for you to talk about your day or push you to engage with him. His voice is soothing, his jokes funny, and after a while, you finally feel as if you are relaxing.

           “Why would someone need ten rooms? How many guests are they having over?” Seonghwa drawls at one point before going, “Kitten, you’ve been tugging on my hoodie for ten minutes, do you want to wear it?”

           You hadn’t realized you were doing that but now that Seonghwa pointed it out, you sit up a little and go, “Yes please.”

           Seonghwa pulls the hoodie off him. Underneath he is wearing just a simple black shirt. You take the hoodie and put it on. It is way too big for you, hanging off your frame, the sleeves coming down past your fingers. But it smells like Seonghwa, and you feel safe in it.

           Seonghwa picks up your hairbrush from your night table, “I’ll brush your hair.” He offers.

           The proposition surprises you but the idea of someone brushing your hair is way too enticing. Instead of answering, you turn again so your back is to Seonghwa. He stretches his long legs out, pulling you in between them and begins to brush your hair.

           You were half expecting him to brush it too hard, tug on it accidentally, get it stuck in a tangle or something. But Seonghwa deftly weaves his fingers through your hair, your scalp tingling like crazy as he does so. After he finishes that, he starts to brush it out carefully.

           “I started the paperwork to go back to school.” Seonghwa announces without preamble, jolting you out of your daze.

           Blinking, you go, “What?”

           “Don’t turn around. I have the brush in your hair.” He says swiftly but you get the feeling that the brush is an excuse so he doesn’t have to look directly at you during this topic. “I did it a few days ago. I just hadn’t gotten to tell you. Last time you came over, we were…busy.”

           That is putting it mildly. The last time you saw Seonghwa, you were pretty sure that his cock was in your mouth for most of the night and the rest of the night he fucked you into the mattress.

           “You could’ve told me before.”

           Seonghwa pauses brushing, “Could I have?” You can’t even see his face yet somehow you just feel the rise of one eyebrow and know he is remembering about how you basically jumped his bones as soon as you came into the apartment.

           “Okay, maybe not.” You mumble bashfully, “But that’s great, Seonghwa.”

           He resumes his brushing, “Don’t make a big deal about it,” He hesitates before saying, “But…thanks for talking to me about it. Before.”

           “I’m glad I could help.” You want to say more – you want to tell Seonghwa that you were happy that he opened up to you, that you would listen to him anytime. But your nerves get the best of you and instead you just fall silent.

           Seonghwa quietly brushes your hair. It is incredibly soothing, making you sleepy. Seonghwa doesn’t talk during it and your eyes eventually close. All you hear is the TV show and all you feel is the steady brushing of your hair…

*

           The next time your eyes open, the room is dark besides the glow of the TV. You are on your back, wrapped up in Seonghwa’s hoodie. Propping yourself up, you look to the side to see Seonghwa against the pillows, fast asleep, the hairbrush in his hand. He looks peaceful, chest rising and falling steadily…although at some point in his sleep, his shirt has ridden up, exposing his hard abs.

           The clock on your night table says it is ten. The hair brushing made you fall asleep early. You carefully reach for your phone on the table next to Seonghwa, checking messages, replying to a few from your friends, leaving out that Seonghwa is over. No one in your friends knew about him yet because you weren’t sure what to say, exactly – that you were fuck buddies with one of the scary goth guys from the club? Seonghwa still hadn’t said anything about you two becoming a couple and up until tonight, you didn’t think he wanted to spend time with you outside of having sex.

           Putting your phone back down, your fingers accidentally graze across Seonghwa’s stomach as you settle back down. But you hesitate when you feel his hard muscles underneath your fingertips. Seonghwa is still asleep as you trail your fingers across his stomach. Since sleeping with Seonghwa, you had gone from thinking he was scary to just thinking he was plain hot.

           Maybe it is because he had made sure to relax you, but you are feeling better and touching his stomach is weirdly turning you on. It seemed a shame now to have Seonghwa over and not have sex with him.

           Nudging him, he mumbles in his sleep, shifting slightly. “Seonghwa,” You whisper, and his eyes flutter open immediately.

           “What’s wrong?” He says sleepily, “Are you okay?”

           “I’m fine,” You say quickly, wiggling out of your sweatpants and underwear, your fingers undoing the button and zipper on his jeans.

           Seonghwa sounds much more awake when he speaks again, “What got you all worked up?”

           “Your stomach,” You say honestly as he kicks off his jeans and you tug down his boxers.

           Your shyness around Seonghwa feels like a distant memory. Now, you tell him exactly what you like, what you want, and he reacts accordingly. By the millionth time Seonghwa fucked you with his tongue hard enough to make you squirt, shyness began to feel a bit silly. He has fucked you all over his apartment – in the shower, you sitting on the kitchen counter, bent over the small dining room table, on the couch, in his bed. You no longer felt like the good kitten that sat on his couch the night your car broke down, when he was itching to see what you tasted like.

           Seonghwa is already growing hard. You wrap your hand around his cock to help him, making sure to spit on the tip enough to make his shaft wet.

           He chuckles a little, tugging his shirt up to expose more of his stomach, “You like this, kitten?”

           In response, you bend over and drag your tongue across his stomach. Your tongue slips up and down against the curves of his abs, skin warm against your tongue. Seonghwa makes a small noise in the back of his throat.

           “Kitten, you’ve turned into quite the slut, do you know that?” He mumbles, voice dropping an octave.

           “Your fault.” You reply.

           Seonghwa’s finger twirls around a lock of your hair, studying you, “I guess I did turn the good little kitten into a whore. If I had driven past you that night, you still would be all proper.”

           “Sounds boring,” You retort, pulling away to straddle him and you can tell he is fighting off a smile.

           “You gonna ride my cock while wearing my hoodie, kitten?”

           You nod, tugging his shirt off and tossing it to the floor as Seonghwa holds his cock so you can guide yourself down on it. The first time you rode him, you had been very embarrassed. Now, you don’t second guess yourself as you begin to take his girth. Your pussy is already wet and can take his cock easily. He slides fully in; you murmur fuck softly and then start to grind against him.

           Seonghwa’s hands dig into the hoodie, grabbing your waist through the fabric. He is biting down on his bottom lip, eyes on your face as you take his cock.

           “Feeling better, kitten?” His voice is taunt, breathing faster.

           “Much better,” Your voice shakes, hands flattening against his stomach to help yourself ride him (and fine, maybe to feel those muscles underneath your fingers again).

           Seonghwa arches his hips, driving his cock upwards, causing a moan to topple from in between your lips. “Kitten just needed to cuddle and get her hair brushed and then she’s back to being a slut.”

           Recently, Seonghwa calling you a slut has been an incredible turn on. Perhaps it is because you never thought you’d cast off the naïve nice, good girl image you’ve had your entire life and you like that Seonghwa has completely corrupted you. Whatever the reason, it didn’t take him long to figure out it pressed your buttons and he used it often now.

           “You want my load in that sweet pussy of yours?” Seonghwa asks as you bounce on his cock, your tongue poking out a little from in between your lips as you focus, nodding. But he shakes his head, “You know the rules, kitten…you gotta cum first. Do you think you can make yourself finish without my help?”

           Seonghwa knows that you cannot. While riding him always feels amazing, he is aware that you cannot climax unless he drives his cock into you hard and fast while you take it like a ragdoll.

           “Seonghwa,” You whine.

           But he takes his hands off your waist and instead folds them underneath his head as if he is star gazing and not having his dick ridden. Oh, you hate him. You start to pick up your pace, panting as you try to hit your sweet spot but it won’t work. Your hand goes to your clit, rubbing it furiously as you try to ride him deeper and faster.

           “Kitten, you look positively desperate right now,” Seonghwa remarks as he watches you, “You think you can keep riding my cock at the speed you need and rub your clit fast enough at the same time?”

           “Shut up.” You mumble, cheeks red, needing to climax and wanting his cum so badly that it is driving you crazy.

           He grins, clearly enjoying watching you struggle to get off. Your pussy is soaking wet, covering his cock in it, the sound of skin smacking against skin.

“Seonghwa,” You whine again, “Why are you being mean to me tonight of all nights?”

           “Aw, kitten, you’re pouting. How am I supposed to resist you now?”

           Seonghwa moves his hands to your waist, lifting his hips, bringing you forward against his chest. Relief sweeps through you, burying your face his neck as he begins to ram his cock into your cunt hard and fast. Your moans and pleas are muffled against his skin as his cock jackhammers into you, hitting your sweet spot.

           It doesn’t take long to make you finish. With a strangled gasp of his name, your pussy clenches down around his dick as you climax. You rock against Seonghwa, the hoodie bunched up around your body, panting in his ear as you ride it out, the orgasm so intense again that you are squirting.

           “There you go, kitten,” He urges as you orgasm, “Make all the noise you want to make, make a mess too.”

           And you do, not caring that the neighbors must be utterly baffled to hear such loud moans of pleasure coming from next door or that you are squirting all over Seonghwa’s cock as you climax.

           When you finally begin to come down from the orgasm, Seonghwa holds onto your waist and shifts so that you are underneath him. He pumps his cock in your soaking wet cunt, going all the way in so that your hips touch before pulling out. As he does this, he brings his face to yours, tongue eagerly slipping past your lips to press his against yours. The kiss is open mouthed, messy, and at one point Seonghwa drags his tongue against your lips before slipping it back in your mouth.

           You can tell by the way he erratically jerks his hips that he is going to finish. But the kiss only deepens as he fucks you, your hands in his hair, one of those kisses that is all teeth and tongue and spit – messy just how he likes it…and how you like it now too.

           Seonghwa groans in your mouth, ramming his cock fully in you as he empties his balls in your cunt. The warmth of his load spills into you, coating your walls, filling up your small pussy with his massive release. You know that it is going to leak out of you because Seonghwa always cums so much.

           The kiss breaks, Seonghwa pulling out. Both of you are panting hard and you push some of your hair out of your face as Seonghwa looks down at you.

           “You look so cute in my hoodie leaking my cum, kitten,” He says in between heavy breathing, “I want to clean you though.”

           Literally nothing can come between Seonghwa and eating pussy, even if it is filled with his own load. He wiggles down to your cunt, arms sliding underneath your ass to give him leverage. His tongue moves past your folds, licking and sucking his cum out of your cunt. It is obscene and downright disgusting, and you love every second of it.

           Seonghwa finishes and wipes his face clean with a folded shirt of yours from the night table (“Hey!” you protest but he only laughs), plopping down next to you, looking utterly content. When he brushes his fingers through his hair, something catches your eye.

           “Your fingernails aren’t painted,” You realize.

           Seonghwa looks at his nails, “I was about to repaint them when I called you. Just didn’t have time.”

           “I’ll paint them.” You offer.

           He blinks at you, “Kitten, I don’t want pastel nails even though, just for the record, I could pull them off.”

           You roll your eyes, “I have red nail polish, Seonghwa.”

           You slide out of bed, wiggling back into your underwear as you go to the bathroom. You rummage around for a dark red and come back with it, hopping onto the bed again next to Seonghwa, who is looking at you with an expression you cannot decipher. He has tugged his boxers back on but that is the only thing he is wearing.

           “Come on,” You gesture for his hand after turning on the lamp.

           He raises the one closest to you and you begin to paint his nails quietly. The TV is still on and there is a pleasant hum from it, soft light filling the bedroom. You feel content like this, focusing on painting Seonghwa’s nails in the safety of your bedroom.

           “You going to tell me what happened today?” He asks as you paint.

           Your eyes flick up to him. He is studying you again, a tiny crease in the middle of his forehead. You know he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want to know so you recount the day although it doesn’t seem so bad now that Seonghwa is here.

           When you finish, and switch to his other hand, Seonghwa makes an irritated noise, “Your boss is an asshole. I bet I could find his address. Slash his tires.”

           “Seonghwa!” You gasp, head snapping up to look at him.

           He looks at you innocently, “Just kidding.”

           Your eyes narrow slightly in doubt.

           Seonghwa breaks out into a grin and your heart skips a beat. After a moment he goes, “Do you think you forgot your friend’s birthday because of me?”

           You frown, “What do you mean?”

           “We spend a lot of time together. And no one knows that we do,” He points out, “Since they don’t know, they could interpret it as you don’t care.”

           “I don’t know,” You say, steadfastly looking at Seonghwa’s fingernails as if they are fascinating, “I haven’t thought about it that way.”

           You know Seonghwa is looking at you, but you don’t know what to say. This conversation feels as if it is traveling into territory that could potentially upset you. Since you don’t know the status of things, and you don’t want to bring it up and have Seonghwa reject you as a girlfriend, it is easier to avoid it completely.

           But he did have a point. You spent most of your free time with him and it was naturally bleeding into other aspects of your life. You honestly weren’t sure how much longer it could remain a secret.

           “Okay, done.” You announce.

           Seonghwa admires his nails for a moment, blowing on them to dry, “Thanks, kitten.”

           You snuggle up against Seonghwa then, his hand on your thigh, fingernails blood red against your skin, his heart beating steadily underneath your ear. He leans his head against yours, lips pressing against the top of your head.

           You could stay like this forever, you think, just in this moment.

           I’m falling for him, you realize suddenly and it makes your stomach swoop because there is no guarantee Seonghwa would want to be yours.

           But you want to be his.

FINAL PART HERE.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Drabble#6)

Summary: Jungkook visits Japan.

Pairing: Always You!Jungkook x female reader

Genre:, smut

Word count: 3k

Warnings: masturbation, handcuffs, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (male receiving) facial, unprotected sex, fingering,

Notes: Here’s a lil something something. Remember requests for drabble ideas are open! Lets chat:)

Taglist: @seagulljk @fancycollectormoon @justinetingball © taestefully-in-luv

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean you missed your connecting flight?” you take your phone off speaker and bring it to your ear. “Jungkook…you’re joking right?”

“Babe…I wish I was joking.” He says into the phone, “But at this rate I won’t get there until tomorrow. And that’s if the weather chills out…”

“But you’re supposed to be here now…” you whine theatrically to lighten the mood but truth is, you’re sad. You’re fucking sad.

It’s been close to 4 months that you’ve gone without seeing your boyfriend and it’s killing you. He was supposed to come last month but something important came up at his job and now this? Why doesn’t the universe want you to reunite with your love?! “y/n.” Jungkook says your name so softly it has you getting teary eyed. “If the storm doesn’t let up…”

“Don’t tell me things I don’t want to hear.”

“Baby—” Suddenly there’s knocking on your door, interrupting Jungkook. “Who’s that?” Jungkook asks, curious.

“My neighbor said she was going to bring me some left overs today, it’s probably her.”

“Save some for me.” You can hear the pout in Jungkook’s voice.

Then the knocking continues, you rise from your bed and make your way to the door.

“Let me call you back baby.” You say, disappointment laced in your voice. “Give me like 5 minutes.”

“I’ll be here bored as fuck.” Jungkook cries into the phone, “Love you, bye.”

“Love you more,”

You bring the phone down and end the call as you near you front door. The banging continues and you roll your eyes, your neighbor is persistent. You swing the door open when you are met with quite the view.

“Do you love me more though? Because I’m pretty sure I love you more.” Jungkook stands on the other side, opening his arms wide for you to hug him. He’s a got a huge bunny grin on his face, you stand here shocked but once it finally wears off you’re jumping into his arms.

“What the hell Jeon!!!!” You hug him tightly, your face buried in his chest. Jungkook laughs loudly making you giggle yourself.

“Surprise.” Jungkook pulls back, his hands still on your waist. “Before you hit me let me kiss you.” He smirks down at you and you roll your eyes and lean up to find his lips.

Finally, after months of waiting, months of text and calls, months of longing, he is finally here. And his lips have never tasted sweeter.

“Fuck, I missed you so much.” Jungkook whispers against your lips, “Been so lonely without you.” He admits.

You lean away and offer him a sad smile, “Let’s get inside.”

You two walk inside your small, cozy apartment. Jungkook’s hands never leave your body as you make your way to the living room.

“You’re so pretty.” Jungkook leans down until his lips are on your neck, he kisses your skin over and over until he stops and just breathe you in. He releases a shaky breathes in return, making you alert.

“You okay babe?” you whisper.

“I just…” Jungkook takes a second, his face still buried in your neck, “Fuck.” He sniffles, “I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too…” you begin rubbing his back soothingly. “But we’re together now.”

“Only for a week.” He says, disappointed. “I need you every day for the rest of my life.” You feel something wet drop on your neck…is Jungkook…crying?

“Baby…” you start to get teary eyed yourself, feeling emotional all of the sudden. “I love you.”

Jungkook squeezes your body into his, his hug tight and secure. He sniffles into your neck repeatedly as he sways both of your bodies side to side.

“I love you more.” He cries. “This isn’t easy at all.” He chokes out. “I don’t even want to imagine when I leave and have to say goodbye all over again.”

“Don’t think about that...” you continue to rub his back. “Let’s make the most of our time together.” You let tears bubble over and fall as you speak. You know how hard it’s been on him…it’s been hard on you too but Jungkook is a little more sensitive.

“Yeah,” he lifts his head and offers you his signature smile. “Let’s enjoy our time together.”

~~~~~~~

“Japan is fucking awesome.” Jungkook says as he slurps up his ramen, the noodles pushing past his lips. “I see why you moved here.”

“This is your third bowl…aren’t you full?” you chuckle, “And it is pretty sweet.”

“After this let’s walk around Shinjuku, I want to do some shopping.” Jungkook says with his mouth full.

“Perfect.” You grin at your boyfriend, your empty bowl out in front of you. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“Wanna get the guys something.” He says, “Small stuff. They have to fit in my suitcase.”

“Good thinking.”

You and Jungkook finish up your food and head towards the trains, making your way towards Shinjuku, one of Tokyo’s largest shopping and entertainment districts.

Jungkook is wide eyed, starry eyed, and all things impressed as he walks through. He stops in many different shops, pulling you along as he finds things he wants to get the guys. You feel your heart swell watching him enjoy himself.

“Those are cute.” You hear Jungkook say, you follow his eyes to a pair of pink, heart shaped handcuffs in a shops window.

“I guess?”

“Let’s buy them.” He takes your hand and drags you towards the shop.

“Why—“

But you’re cut off with just a look, Jungkook is glancing behind his shoulder to you…a devilish smirk on his face.

“Oh.” You squeeze his hand and stop him from walking any further. You pull him into you as you lean up and whisper in his ear.

“You realize you’re the one getting cuffed right?”

“Oh baby, that’s what I am hoping for.”

~~~~~~

“What did I say Jungkook?” You tower over him, your hands on your hips as you stare down at his leaking cock. “Huh?”

“That—That I’m not allowed to cum…” He whines, his breaths are heavy and his cock is twitching from his recent orgasm.

“And what did you do?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry y/n…”

“I asked ‘What did you do?’” You smirk down at him, licking your dry lips.

“I …I came.” His brows are scrunched together, and his big submissive eyes look at you with such a pleading expression, further motivating you to torture your poor boyfriend.

“You disobeyed me, didn’t you? I specifically told you that you weren’t allowed to cum…” you playfully jut your bottom lip out, “But you didn’t listen.”

Jungkook is sitting on your sofa, his legs spread apart as he has his dripping member in his hand. You were giving him a little sexy performance allowing him to touch himself but he wasn’t allowed to cum. Jungkook stroked his dick over and over and not thinking of the consequences, he came all over his hand and lower abdomen…his cum sticky against his sweaty skin.

“You know what this means, right?” you saunter closer to him, your bra straps hanging off your shoulders and your thong tight around your hips. “I get to punish you.” You say as slowly as possible, letting each word drip from your lips.

“H-How?”

“You wanted to cum so bad, right? I’ll make sure you never stop. And you aren’t allowed to touch me. Or yourself.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, knowing exactly where this is going…he slowly closes his eyes as a smile spreads across his face.

“Whatever you say baby.” He nods his head in agreement. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I want you to start touching yourself again—”

“But—but I just came…” His big doe eyes stare up at you and you scoff.

“I said I want you to start touching yourself again. I want it to be quick too. Try to get yourself to cum in only a couple minutes. Can you do that for me?”

“B-Babe…” he hesitantly starts running his fingers up his sensitive length, “Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he grips his cock tighter and starts stroking faster.

“Good boy.” You lean down and kiss the side of his neck. “I’ll be right back. You better keep going.” You warn softly, “I’ll know if you stopped. I better hear you.”

Jungkook nods his head as he starts whining, soft moans leaving his parted lips. You head to your bedroom and find the baggy that holds the pink handcuffs you two just purchased just the other day. You hear Jungkook quietly groaning as he gets himself off.

“Louder baby.” You yell out, “Want to hear you loud and clear.”

Jungkook starts releasing higher pitched moans as he cries out in pleasure, his cock so fucking swollen.

You walk back into the living room, the handcuffs in hand. You make your way to where Jungkook is, he’s got his head thrown back, his legs spread wide and his cock being ferociously stroked.

“Open your eyes and look at me.” You command, “Now.”

Jungkook lifts his head from the sofa and gazes at you, you can tell by his stare alone that he’s close. He wants to cum.

“Close?” you whisper, swinging the handcuffs in circles, the rattle echoing in Jungkook’s ears.

“Yes.” He squeezes his cock harder, and moves his hand at a faster pace than before, he rolls his eyes to the back of his head as he’s about to cum.

“Stop.” You raise your voice, “Take your hands off yourself.” Immediately Jungkook’s eyes shoot open in panic, there’s no way you’re going to rip this orgasm from him.

“Baby I said stop.” You command again. Jungkook pinches his brows together in frustration, his hand leaving his aching cock. He breathes out roughly, his chest heaving and he whimpers when he no longer feels the pleasure that was getting so built up.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” Jungkook slams his eyes shut, he keeps his hands to his sides, his throbbing cock begging to be touched again.

“Good.” Your evil smirk grows on your face, “Now sit up so I can cuff your pretty wrists.”

Jungkook groans loudly as he sits up for you, you lean forward and cuff one wrist at a time.

“Remember your safe word?”

Jungkook nods frantically, his eyes gazing so intensely in yours.

“Repeat it for me, baby.”

“Dragon.”

“Remember, it’s okay to tell me if it’s too much.” You reach down to stroke his cheek, “But try to handle as much as you can.”

“Yes.”

You stand between his legs and drop to your knees, his dick standing tall waiting, begging, longing to be touched. You take his member in your small hand and guide it towards your lips. Jungkook whimpers when he feels the tip of his cock entering your warm, wet mouth. You push his cock further between your lips, your tongue flat against it as you take him deeper. You keep pushing forward until your nose is bumping into his lower abdomen, you’ve taken his big dick all the way down your throat and he couldn’t be more pleased.

You slowly ease his cock back out, until just the tip is left and you start sucking on it, your tongue running circles over his head. Jungkook’s eyes roll so far back into his head as you explore his cock with your tongue. You pop his cock out, and hold it out in front of you. You make eye contact with him and he moans out, urging you to continue. You lean forward and lick his cock from bottom to top, your tongue sliding against his skin.

“Please more.” Jungkook begs, slamming his eyes shut. “Please, please, please.”

You smile up at him and take his cock into your mouth again, bobbing your head up and down quickly, getting him riled up. You suck on his aching member, making him lose control above you.

“Ahhhhhh fuuuucccckkk.” He cries out. “I wanna cum, I wanna cum, I wanna cum.” He begins chanting. His eyes now open and staring down at you as you choke on his length.

You hollow your cheeks and suck harder, faster making him tense all the muscles in his body.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum!” he wishes his hands were in your hair, he wishes so badly he could touch you.

You feel him tense when he’s releasing a long whine between his pretty, pink lips. His cum shoots down your throat in thick ropes, you swallow it as it slides down. You suck particularly hard and continue to move your mouth on him faster.

“Baby.” He cries out, “Slow down,” he begs, “Too much.”

You don’t stop though, you continue to suck on him, your hand stroking his dick at the same time and he winces at the sensitivity.

“Fuck!” He whimpers, “Holy fuck.”

You squeeze your hand around his sensitive, throbbing cock and he struggles to sit still. He’s going crazy, the pain turning into pleasure once more but the tension is already so built up that he’s sure he’s going to fucking explode in your mouth again.

“Holy fuck y/n…I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, “So close.”

You release his cock from your mouth but your hand continues to stroke him rather quickly, you pay extra mind to squeezing around his tip.

“Cum on my face.” You order and Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise. He’s quick to nod his head in excitement though. “Want all your cum… everywhere.” Your other hand drags your bra down until your breasts are bouncing out. “My tits too.” You say.

“Fuck.” Jungkook rolls his head back, “You’re so perfect.” He feels his orgasm approaching even faster now, your hand not letting up.

“Cum for me baby.” You tell him and he does. His cum spurts out of his swollen cock, shooting all over your face, his cum dripping down your lips, your eyes, your nose. You point his cock in the direction of your breasts and his cum drips down your tits, covering them in his heated release.

“Good job.” You say, your free hands goes to gather some of his cum…you put your sticky fingers in your mouth, cleaning yourself up. Jungkook just watches with bated breaths, his chest is fucking heaving. You stand up and crawl into his lap and give him a dirty kiss.

“Taste yourself, my love.” You slip your tongue into his mouth and he sloppily accepts, his tongue dancing roughly with yours. You lean away and grin at him.

“You aren’t done coming.” You reach down and slide your panties to the side, your other hand reaching for his sensitive dick. Jungkook’s eyes go wide as he realizes what you’re about to do.

“I don’t know if I can cum again…” he admits shyly.

“You can and you will.” You line up his member to your hole, sinking down on to him making him gasp out. Your cunt is so warm and so tight and so fucking wet.

“Fuuuuucckk.” He draws out the word in a long moan. “Holy fucking shit y/n.” he breathes out roughly.

“Your cock belongs to me.” You whisper into his ear and goosebumps rise on his skin. You lift yourself off his cock and slam back down, you repeat these motions over and over until Jungkook is visibly getting watery eyes.

“Too much.” He cries out, “Hurts.” He says.

“Take it baby, I know you can handle it.” You start bouncing on his cock faster, your thighs are fucking burning.

Jungkook slams his eyes shut, and bites down on his bottom lip. He’s fucking going insane, he’s so god damn sensitive that it truly aches. He’s moving his body around, struggling in his cuffs. He yearns to touch you. To have you slow down, but he can’t and you won’t.

“I love fucking this cock.” You clench around it making Jungkook cry out even more, the pain is finally easing into something pleasurable again. He hates how close he is, he hates how he wants to cum again.

“Fuck. I want you cum in your pussy so bad.” He grits out and you smirk.

“Beg.” You hold on to his shoulders as you fuck his cock, your hips grinding into his so fucking smoothly.

“Please let me cum inside you baby, please. I’ve been so good.” He whimpers, he feels his orgasm coming.

“You have been, my love.” You roll your hips into his again and he gasps out.

“Ride my cock baby please, faster.” He begs, his voice hoarse. You nod your head and start bouncing on his cock faster, he throws his head back as he goes fucking still. He starts coming inside you, his body shaking at this point. He’s so overwhelmed and sensitive. You start slowing down and lift yourself off his length, his cum dripping down your used pussy.

Jungkook is beyond out of breath, his skin glistening with sweat.

“Holy fuck babe.” He gasps, “I’m fucking dead.”

You can’t help but chuckle, you reach for his wrists and take the cuffs off him, throwing them to the side. Now with freed hands, Jungkook is quick to grab you by the hips and pull you in for a long, heated kiss. His tongue exploring past your lips, you moan at his urgency. He flips you over so you are laying on the sofa and he hovers above you.

“Your turn to cum.” He teases, his fingers shoving themselves in your hole. “And baby, I hope you get used to the feeling because you’ll be experiencing it a lot.”

[ducky-died-inside]

i got another idea camilo x reader , carlos x reader , antonio x reader . I have a headcannon that antonio woud look up to sister ! reader a lot because she reads him stories and makes him hot chocalate when he has nightmares or when hes sad so when he sees her cry he gets all teary eyed cause she is his favorite . Anyway my requst is antonio walks in on reader crying and she dosent hear the door opening and he gets all teary eyed and stuff and when he comes down he gets asked by pepa and he says " mi hermana is crying " and camilo ans carlos go into protective and then hear antonio say something .and going back to my hotchoclate headcannon hes like " camilo , get the hotchocolate , carlos get the milk ,mirabel get the comfiest blanket , dolores get my favorite book , we have some cheering up to do " and once they get all that stuff they open the door and hear her mumbling something while looking at herself through the mirror ( you can decide what she mumbles ) and their heartbreaks ( cause they all favorite her in this ) and they all come up too her and group hug her and then they ask her why shes crying and she tells them why ( you can decide) then they have the comfy blanket around them and shes drinking the hotchocolate while antonio reads the story to her ( he knows it by heart ) and then either the rest of the family walks in and sees them all cudling together or it can get cut off with them saying something to her have a good day / night ( i just needed some antonio x sister reader fluff , also can i be added to the taglist if thats okay ) ( all platonic as usual ) !

Of course! NGL, I almost started crying when I read this! It's just too cute

Hugs and Hot Coco: Camilo x Fem reader (platonic), Carlos x Fem reader (platonic), Antonio x Fem reader (platonic)

Summary: Antonio sees you crying and gathers everyone together to comfort you.....

Genre: Fluff with a sprinkle of angst

Notes:

Warnings: Sad reader, self depreciation

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rushed over to the box in the tree. You opened it, not expecting anything from your novio, but you were hopeful. Usually he would put a note or a little gift in there each day to remind you of how much he loved you. Recently, there wasn't anything in there when you looked, but today, there was. In the box there was a note with your name on it.

You clutched the note to your heart and ran back home. Finally! I got a note from Rodrigo! I haven't seen him in a while....

You rushed into the Casita, passing the kitchen. Your brothers were in there, eating arepas.

"Ay, Y/N! What had you so happy?"

"I finally got another note from Rodrigo! It's been so long since he put one in the box!"

You finished walking up the stairs to your room, and you went in, closing the door behind you. You sat on your bed and opened the letter.

Dear Y/N,

I know it’s been a while since I wrote you, and there's a reason for that. It's not a very good reason or a fair reason, but there's a reason. You see, I found someone else. I didn't mean to, but with you having all of your chores, and she started coming around the store more and.... I'm sorry. I hope you find someone better.

Sincerely,

Rodrigo

You slowly folded the letter back up after reading through it multiple times. You were so shocked that you didn't notice the open and closing of your door. Antonio was coming to visit you because he hadn't seen you yet and was surprised to see you crying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He walked down the stairs to the dining room to see his Mami. He had gotten a little teary eyed after seeing you. You were always so happy, so to see you cry made him cry.

"Oh Tonito, what's wrong?"

He rubbed his eyes as he talked, trying to get the tears off of his face.

"Y/N was crying in her room, and I don't know why."

Camilo and Carlos overheard and slid into the dining room, Isabela, Dolores, Mirabel, and Luisa on their heels.

"She was crying? She just got home and was so happy!"

Antonio looked down at the floor.

"We should try and comfort her. She always does that for everyone else." Antonio mustered up the most commanding voice any of them had heard from a five year old and started giving orders. "Camilo, you can start the hot chocolate, Carlos can get the milk, Luisa and Mirabel can get the most comfy blankets, Isabela can get the happiest and brightest flowers, Dolores can help me get my favorite book!"

They all shrugged and went to work on every thing litte Antonio just asked. Pepa smiled at the kids. They would be just fine without her, so she went to go find Félix.

Once they had gathered all of the stuff, they went to your room. They opened the door slowly to see you in front of your mirror, talking to your reflection. There were tears coming down your face as you talked.

"Am I right for anyone? Would anyone care if I disappeared? Rodrigo sure wouldn't."

As they heard you talking, they felt their hearts hurt. What had happened to their favorite, smiling person? What made you think like this? Who made you cry?

They pushed the door more open and this time it made enough noise for you to notice. You turned and looked at the door to see all of your siblings and cousins. When you saw them, you just broke down more.

They all came the rest of the way into the room and went to comfort you. Luisa picked you up and put you on the bed, everyone else following her to sit on the bed with you. They put the blankets on you and Camilo handed you the hot chocolate mixed with milk. Antonio sat right next to you and cuddled with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They waited for you to stop crying before they started to ask what happened.

"What happened today?"

Camilo's voice was gentle as he prompted you to talk. Your voice was quiet and sad as you responded.

"Rodrigo broke up with me today. That was the note that he gave me today."

Your voice drifted off at the end, but everyone still heard you. Everyone was silent until Antonio spoke up.

"Would me reading my book to you help you feel better?"

You nodded and smiled at your hermanito.

"That would be great, Tonito."

Antonio grabbed his book from Dolores and started to read it aloud to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pepa knocked on your door and opened it to see everyone asleep with you on your bed. She smiled and a rainbow appeared over her head while she waved everyone else over to see. Félix smiled warmly at the sight, Julieta gasped and placed her hand over her heart. She looked to Augustin who was looking at his daughters with pride. Abuela just smiled as Bruno pulled out two vision tablets. One had you crying on your bed and the other showed the scene that he saw in your room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This one is done! I hope you all like it!

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu , @hiroyuki27 , @alexaizawa , @camilolovesroxiie , @katethecraziest , @merymikey , @kailoveswom3n

Ask to be added to the taglist!

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: gun violence, hospitals, blood

A/N: besties, i-...just read the warnings (slight spoiler: the angst will be resolved)

Masterlist

Chapter 21

“How exciting is this! Last day of kindergarten today and then your seventh birthday party tomorrow!” you exclaimed, “My baby is growing up way too fast.”

You squeezed Jo tightly.

“Okay, I’m going to drop Jo off and then I’ll pick up the cake from the bakery, go grocery shopping, and get the decorations,” Spencer kissed you as he held up Jo’s backpack for her to slip her arms into.

“Don’t forget Mrs. Flynn’s gift. She had to put up with 20 rowdy kids for a whole year, the least we can do is give her some cookies and a gift card to Target,” you said.

“Got it,” Jo patted her backpack.

“Goodbye, my loves,” you gave both of them one last kiss before they exited the front door and you finished getting ready for work.

-

At the end of the day, Jo came marching out of the elementary school in the usual class line. You and Spencer came running up to her.

“There’s my big kindergarten graduate,” you bent down to hug her with Spencer following suit.

“I got a diploma,” she beamed, holding up the piece of paper with her name on it.

Josephine Y/L/N-Reid

Her officially updated birth certificate name.

“We need to frame this and put it up right next to Daddy’s PhDs,” you smiled.

“I think this occasion calls for a milkshake,” Spencer lifted up Jo.

“It most certainly does...and fries,” you agreed.

-

You had a row of picnic tables at the park all decorated with balloons, streamers, and dinosaur tablecloths. You and Spencer woke up extra early to make sure everything was ready for the time of the party.

You both had been repeatedly taking trips back and forth home to bring everything to the park that you needed. Jo’s friends from her class would be there as well as the BAU.

As people started to arrive, you handed out party hats to everyone. Derek attempted to sneak past you.

“Ah ah ah,” you held your arm out to stop him, “No hat, no entry.”

“Even Hotch is wearing one,” you pointed to Hotch sitting at a table with Jack, wearing a bright pink party hat.

“Fine. Gimme the green one,” Derek sighed.

Jo and her friends were having a blast. You ordered enough pizza to fill everyone up completely but luckily, the kids ran it off playing tag on the playground.

“Okay, cake everyone!” Spencer shouted to gather everyone around the central table as he began to light the candles.

Jo took the end seat with the biggest grin on her face and you stood behind her. Derek and Penelope had their phones out to record and take pictures.

Spencer picked the cake up and took a deep inhale, signaling that he was about to start singing, “Happy Birth-”

BANG. You didn’t even know what was happening. You quickly pulled Jo behind you, shielding her from whatever made that loud noise.

Then, you felt something warm seeping down your front. You looked down to see your white shirt quickly darkening into red.

Spencer dropped the cake on the ground, running over to you, “Y/N!”

You fell to the ground just as he caught you. You could hear the muffled sounds of screams, kids crying, and people running away.

“Hey, eyes on me! Eyes on me, okay? You’re gonna be just fine,” Spencer was grappling at your torso to find where all the blood was coming from.

“Where’s Jo?” you panickedly asked.

“Penelope has her. Hotch called an ambulance, it’s on its way, baby. Just stay with me,” he pleaded.

“Spence, it hurts too much. I’m sorry,” you cried.

“No, Y/N, please. Jo needs you. I need you. I can’t do this without you,” he sobbed.

“You’re the best dad ever, Spence. I currently have a mug being shipped to the house that says so,” you feebly attempted to laugh, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Spencer whispered as the ambulance pulled up with its sirens wailing.

As you were being loaded into the stretcher, you caught a glimpse of Jo crying into Penelope’s shoulder.

“Spence, stay with Jo,” you whispered.

“What? No. I’m coming with you,” he said.

“She’s really scared, Spence.”

“Y/N, this is not up for debate. You were just shot. I’m not leaving you. Penelope will bring her to the hospital waiting room,” Spencer insisted, getting into the ambulance.

Everything went dark after that.

-

Spencer was nervously bouncing his leg up and down, blankly staring at the hospital floor. Everything around him was a monotonous hum.

“Reid...Reid...Reid!” Derek snapped him out of his trance, shaking his shoulder.

“Penelope is outside with Jo now and she’ll bring her in in a second but we need to get you cleaned up first,” Derek said, guiding Spencer to the bathroom.

Spencer looked down at his clothes. Whatever emotional state Jo was in right now would definitely not be eased by seeing her Daddy covered in Mommy’s blood. Derek helped wipe all the blood off Spencer and then handed him a spare pair of sweats from his go bag.

“W-What happened?” was the first thing that Spencer said as they returned to the waiting room and Derek texted Penelope that it was all clear.

“Hotch and Rossi are at the scene trying to figure that out now. We think the unsub was actually aiming for Jo but Y/N blocked the bullet,” Derek stated.

“Oh god,” Spencer put his face in his palms until he heard a familiar crying growing louder.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Jo wailed.

Penelope was also teary-eyed but Spencer could tell she was trying her best to hold it together for Jo’s sake. She transferred Jo into Spencer’s arms. Spencer tucked the little girl into his chest.

“Is Mommy okay?” she sobbed.

Spencer looked up at Derek and Penelope before looking back down at his daughter, “I don’t know, baby, but the doctors are taking real good care of her.”

Jo continued to cry into Spencer's chest for about a half an hour until she lost all of her energy and fell asleep. Spencer looked down at his daughter’s puffy red eyes. How could he possibly give her any more bad news on her birthday? You had to be okay. You were supposed to be the perfect little family. This was supposed to be his happy ending.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” a surgeon called out.

“Right here,” Spencer spoke softly and slowly stood in order to not wake Jo up.

Derek and Penelope stood right beside him.

“Ms. Y/L/N suffered a bullet wound to the gut. However, the surgery went well and she is expected to make a full recovery,” the surgeon announced.

“Oh thank god,” Spencer let out a huge exhale that he didn’t even know he was holding.

“She has lost a lot of blood so she’s not awake yet but you are welcome to wait with her if you would like. She should be up within the hour,” the surgeon informed Spencer.

Spencer nodded his head emphatically.

“Garcia and I are going to head back to the BAU to confer with the rest of the team. Text us with any updates,” Derek patted Spencer on his back.

“Right this way,” the surgeon guided Spencer to a room down the hall.

There you laid in a hospital bed, still managing to look beautiful after nearly dying and a multiple hour surgery.

He took the seat beside you, still cradling Jo in his arms.

About 20 minutes later, Spencer’s eyes snapped up to meet yours after he heard a little movement coming from the bed.

You opened your mouth slightly to speak but Spencer beat you to it.

“Marry me.”

“Am I alive?” you closed your eyes again, blinking really hard, and then opening them to still see the same scene in front of you.

“Yes, Y/N, you are luckily very much alive and I don’t want to spend another second not being married to the love of my life. I stupidly let you go once and I am not going to let that happen ever again. You and Jo are my whole entire life, there's nothing more I could possibly want. So, I am asking you…”

Spencer grabbed your hand and slipped the ring off your index finger, then he knelt with Jo still asleep in his arms, clinging to his neck, “...if you will do me the greatest honor of spending the rest of our lives together. Y/N, will you marry me?

“Yes,” you cried as he slipped the ring back on to your index finger.

“I promise I’ll get you another ring as soon as we’re out of here,” Spencer said.

“Shut up and kiss me, Spence,” you cupped his cheeks, pulling him towards you until your lips connected.

“Mommy?” you heard a meek voice ask from between you both.

“Hi baby. I’m so sorry I scared you like that,” you said.

Jo untangled herself from Spencer and wrapped her arms around your neck.

“It’s okay, Mommy, as long as you are okay.”

A/N: i got multiple crying headaches while writing and editing this chapter