#and the question of what could Possibly make it worth the risk of opening yourself up THAT MUCH to Anyone

[sugrhigh]

ALL YOURS - ( roomie!matt pt 5 )

summary- you and your roommate matt have been sleeping together for a minute now, but neither one of you wants to ask the other what it means. feelings come to fruition one night at a party and the dynamics of your relationship change once again.

warnings- nsfw content ahead people so read at ur own risk, swearing, drug/alcohol use, dom!matt kinda, unprotected sex, it’s straight up smut at the end so fr don’t read it if u don’t want to!

roomie!matt x fem!reader

a/n: THIS IS TECHNICALLY PART 5 OF THE ROOMIE!MATT TEXT SERIES so if you haven’t read those you might be a bit confused. link to the master list is here.

strap in because it’s kinda long so i hope u guys love this final chapter as much as i do <3 inbox is always open xo

@sleepysturnss

rain patters against the windows mercilessly as the tv drones on, interrupted only by booming thunder every few minutes.

its late in the day now, and the cloud coverage makes it extra gloomy, even with interior lights on. not that this bothers you.

storms have always been a source of comfort in your eyes. something about them makes you feel safe, reminds you that the world is far bigger than whatever is worrying you.

“oh, i’ve been meaning to ask if you’re still seeing that guy. what’s his name again?” nick asks from beside you, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he slumps against the couch.

you’ve been sitting like this for hours together, rotting in his living room while it continues to pour outside.

“it’s luke, and no, i’m not talking to him anymore.” you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible.

he looks up at you now, clearly a bit shocked to be hearing this. “please tell me it’s not because of my bitch ass brother.”

you bark out a laugh before you can stop yourself, mostly due to the fact that it’s absolutely because of matt. just not for the reason he thinks.

“as if. it was my decision, don’t worry.”

this is only half true. you did cut the poor guy off, but only because matt had essentially instructed you to do so before you guys had sex for the first time a month ago.

and then you hooked up again. and again. and a couple more times after that. neither of you could stop coming back for more apparently.

none of your friends know yet. as much as you want to be honest with them, you haven’t really talked about the details of this little situation. you’re almost positive matt hasn’t been seeing anyone else, but you also haven’t outright asked.

and there’s no use telling everyone about something that might not even be real.

“what made you do that? was the sex bad? is he an asshole?” nick interrogates further, clicking his phone off so his full attention is on you.

you can’t tell if he’s suspicious or if you’re just genuinely paranoid, but you don’t like this line of questioning either way.

“no he’s fine, he just wasn’t doing it. and his breath always smelled for some reason.” you’re lying through your teeth, but his face morphs into an expression of disgust like he’s buying it.

“ew, major turn off.”

“you’re telling me.”

nick sighs and snuggles further into the cushions, resting his head on your shoulder as he stares at the tv.

“well for what it’s worth, i’m sorry it didn’t work out. but who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone sexy at nathan’s tomorrow.” he says.

“yeah, maybe.” you feed into the hypothetical, even though you know that won’t be happening.

at least not if matt sturniolo has a say in it.

-

your music is playing softly over the speaker as you get ready, perched in front of your vanity like a doll. you’ve just finished your makeup when you hear a singular tap on the door.

“can you hurry it up in here?” matt calls as he pushes it open slightly.

you find it funny that he’s always sure to knock, ever since he walked in on you naked that fateful afternoon. even though you’re literally sleeping together now, he makes it a point to not invade your privacy.

“can’t rush perfection, matthew.” you taunt him as you put your palette and brushes back in their rightful place.

he moves further into your room, walking over to stand behind you. he’s dressed up in jeans and that black muscle tee you love so much, tattoos on display as his hands go to knead your shoulders lightly.

“you do look amazing.” he compliments.

“likewise.” you reply before meeting his searing gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

he increases his pressure slightly, digging his fingers into your neck in a steady pattern. you already know what he’s angling at and he hasn’t even spoken.

“you know, we could just stay home.” matt suggests with a smirk.

“c’mon, we can’t keep ditching our friends. they’re gonna get suspicious at some point.” you shake your head and stand up, because the massage is starting to feel a little too good.

“nobody cared when we left early last time.”

you cross your arms over your chest and turn to give him a pointed look. “because you convinced them that i was sick.”

“so i’ll just tell them a different lie.” he shrugs.

“oh my god, i am going to this party with or without you, so you better make up your mind before the uber gets here.” you say over your shoulder, headed out of your room toward the stairs.

“such a brat.” he grumbles, but you hear him following you regardless.

“only for you.”

two hours later you’re standing in the middle of nathan’s living room, dancing along with the typical crowd. nick and madi are on either side of you, both bopping around drunkenly to the beat.

you’ve had three shitty drinks at this point and your head feels a bit fuzzy. you’re positive your cheeks are flushed, which is actually kind of nice.

matt was with you minutes earlier, but he’s ventured off to get another drink. it’s selfish that you miss him every second he’s not around.

it’s just nice having him by your side. sure, it was kind of casual at first, and you didn’t think it was going to develop so quickly. but now whatever is going on between you means a whole lot more.

you like when he asks you to spend the night in his room, or when he saves the last can of redbull for you so you don’t go to work without caffeine. you like that he’s been replacing the flowers he got you every time they start die, the way he insists on driving you places even if it’s out of his way.

you just like him, and it’s more than casual. at least it is to you, and you can’t imagine that at this point he doesn’t feel the same.

but you don’t want to be the one to try and put a label on it. quite frankly, it scares the shit out of you, and you’re still not drunk enough to keep thinking about it in the middle of this party.

you see chris a few feet away against the wall, beer in his hand as he chats animatedly with nathan. you know he has what you’re looking for, so you shout that you’ll be back and head their direction.

they both smile at you as you approach, almost perfectly in sync.

“what’s up!” chris leans down a bit so you can hear him better.

“do you still have that joint you mentioned earlier?” you ask into his ear.

he nods happily, and nathan shoots you both a questioning glance. by the looks of his sleepy eyes, he’s probably already crossed.

“we’re going to smoke!” you fill him in, motioning toward the front door.

nathan nods and tells you he’ll stay back, so the two of you shuffle your way out of the living room, trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible.

you pass the kitchen, and as your eyes scan the people you spot matt huddled in the corner. he’s talking to a very obviously enthusiastic girl, one that you don’t recognize. your stomach drops at the sight of them, and you hate it.

he doesn’t see you, so you turn your head and keep following behind chris. he’ll stop talking to her soon. he’ll probably even come looking for you instead.

right?

the crowd thins as out by the door, and the two of your step out into the fresh air moments later. the street is relatively quiet, and once the door is shut the noise of the party is muffled. there’s nobody else outside, and you’re grateful.

the other townhouses stare at you as chris crosses the short driveway so he can hide underneath the tree in the yard. you follow his lead, watching as he fishes the lighter and joint out of his front pocket.

“keeping it handy, huh?” you joke.

“you caught me at the right time, i just packed it upstairs.” he smiles before putting it between his lips.

the flame burns the end as he takes a hit, exhaling up toward the sky. you pass it back and forth in silence, both enjoying the momentary break from socialization.

chris clears his throat a minute later, nudging at the grass with his toe absentmindedly. “so, i have a question to ask you.”

he looks over so he can hand the joint back, and your hands shake ever so slightly as you reach out to take it.

“yeah?”

“i think matt is seeing someone. do you know anything about that?” he asks bluntly.

you try to remain calm as you shake your head at him, though it seems impossible. you aren’t prepared for this at all.

“uh, no?”

chris smiles just a little bit, like he’s already got you right where he wants you. “so he doesn’t bring anyone over? it’s just the two of you?”

your narrow your eyes at him. “just ask what you want to ask.”

“are you guys together?”

there it is. you were expecting it this time, and it still makes your stomach flip.

“no. i mean, kind of? we’re not like, dating. we’re just…uh…hooking up.” you’re trying so hard to figure out how to put it that it sounds horrible.

he just laughs. “no you’re not. that kid is in love with you.”

your jaw drops slightly in surprise, and this only makes chris chuckle harder.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you ask him once he finally calms down.

“i’ve seen how he’s acting lately. so fucking goofy, like he’s got his head in the clouds. he only ever gets all dopey like that when he really likes someone, and i kind of suspected it was you.”

it’s hard to find any words. there’s simply nothing on your brain, no coherent thought to be found. chris gives you a playful nudge.

“it’s okay, i won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. but i think you feel the same.” he makes a guess, and he’s very accurate.

you look away as you take your final hit, trying to decide how you want to respond. you exhale the smoke and pass the remainder of the joint back to him.

“okay, you got me. i do want it to be like, a real relationship. and i’ll talk to him about it soon, i promise. just please don’t tell anyone until i do.” you plead.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug. you relax into him, and you have to admit you’re a bit relieved that at least somebody knows now.

“of course not. i’m here to support you both whenever you’re ready. everyone else will be too.”

“thank you. that makes me feel a lot better, seriously.” you say truthfully as he pulls away.

“good.” he nods in satisfaction, giving you a loopy grin.

“i’ve mooched enough, so i’m gonna go back inside, but thanks again. i owe you a blunt for the reality check.” you point a finger at him as you back up off of the grass.

“i’ll never turn that down.”

the high has taken over as you spin around to walk normally, and it’s nearly impossible to stop smiling. having confirmation that you’re not crazy for feeling the way that you do is wonderful.

you head back inside the house, almost positive that you’d find matt hanging out somewhere with your friends.

but as you pass the kitchen again, you spot him in the same place, leaned up against the end of the counter with a solo cup in hand. it seems like the girl is even closer than she was before.

your face falls immediately. it makes you angry that it’s been so long and he still hasn’t told her to get lost yet. if he wants to be all possessive over you, then you shouldn’t have to act so cool for him.

you’re certainly not feeling collected right now. and he deserves to know that.

you wedge your way around the people chatting and pouring themselves drinks without a second thought. matt sees you coming before you actually reach him, and he looks confused by your irritated expression.

you wrap your fingers around his arm wordlessly, right in the middle of the nameless girl’s sentence. he doesn’t put up a fight. in fact, he’s practically hot on your heels as you pull him back toward the hall.

“uh—hey! we were talking bitch!” she shouts after you.

“don’t care.” you don’t even give her the satisfaction of making eye contact.

there’s really no point. matt is trailing behind you like a puppy, and that’s all that matters. he clearly doesn’t want to be there any more than you want him to.

“what’s going on?” he asks as you maneuver around the outside of the crowded living room, making a beeline for the staircase.

it’s taped off to everyone except your group, in case of emergency.

this feels like one, considering you don’t even care if anyone sees you together. you don’t respond, you just let go of his hand and step over the thin barrier, glancing behind you to see if he’ll follow.

there’s a curious look in his eye, but he does the same.

you continue up the stairs, making sure he has the perfect view of your ass as you go. you can literally feel him staring, which only stokes the fire.

“are you taunting me right now?” matt asks as you reach the second floor.

this makes you pause, and you turn around so you can wrap your hand in his shirt. you yank him into the bathroom, slapping the light switch on with your free hand.

you close the door behind you, which suppresses the booming sound of nathan’s music playing through the speakers.

“what the hell is this?” you uncurl your fist and shove his chest to put some space between you.

his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he regains his balance and sets his cup down on the counter. you realize you probably spilled some of it by dragging him around, but that’s not your main focus right now.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you dare play dumb. you can’t stand it when anyone else even breathes near me, so why would you think that i would be okay watching you flirt with some random girl for fifteen minutes? you either want me or you fucking don’t, matt.” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

it’s shocking that you’re being this honest with him, but you’re faded and you’ve been pushed beyond your limit.

no use tip-toeing around it now.

“you think just because she came up to me that somehow means i don’t want you?” he asks, and there’s more of an edge to his tone now.

“how am i supposed to know? we haven’t talked about it, whatever this is.” you wave your hand back and forth between the two of you.

a look of understanding passes over his face. “oh, this is about labels, huh?”

this infuriates you more, because that’s not even the point you’re trying to make. he’s aggravatingly calm right now, like he’s so sure of himself.

“look, if you don’t want to be in a real relationship with me, then fine. i don’t care. but i’m not gonna keep exclusively sleeping with just you if that’s the case.”

matt is silent for a moment, eyes darting across your face. you can see him gazing at your lips, and it drives you crazy.

he takes one step forward, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. even though your height different is relatively small, it still feels like he’s towering above you.

“are you really trying to tell me you wouldn’t care at all if i wanted to see other people?” he asks quietly.

his face is so close, and you breathe in his familiar smoky cologne. it’s dizzying, being this overwhelmingly attracted to someone.

“of course i’d be upset, but there’s not much i can do about it if you don’t feel the same.” your voice is hushed now too, and you wish you didn’t sound so weak.

matt cups your chin gently with one hand, forcing you to keep your focus on him. your heart is slamming against your ribcage now, begging for some kind of relief.

“i want to be with you so bad that it kills me.” he finally admits.

it’s your turn to be stunned, and you stay completely still as his thumb grazes over your bottom lip slowly.

“i had this whole thing planned, i was going to take you to a fancy little restaurant and ask you out like a gentleman. but you just couldn’t wait, could you?” his voice is husky, pupils blown out in lust.

“i…really?” you ask breathlessly.

“really. so what do you think? you wanna be mine?” he goads with a smirk, gripping your face a bit tighter.

it’s normally hard to swallow your pride, especially with matt, but you’re so vulnerable in this moment you can’t tell him anything besides the truth.

“i do.”

“good, because you already are.” he growls before closing the gap between you, lips crashing against yours.

he tastes sweet, like the soda he’s been mixing with vodka all night. it’s a pleasant mess of teeth and tongue as you deepen the kiss, passionate in a way that you’ve never experienced with him before.

his hands travel down to grab at your hips, pressing against you so your lower back bumps against the sink. you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling enough to elicit a groan.

it vibrates against your mouth, and you feel yourself throb just from that little noise alone. he’s normally not very vocal, but you bring it out of him.

matt’s hands slide up your body, finding their way under the hem of your sheer lace top. his cold rings press against your stomach as he slowly inches higher, leaving goosebumps in their wake. you let go of him, throwing your hands upwards so he can peel the shirt over your head.

“so fucking pretty, just for me.” matt praises as he tucks your hair behind your ear, attaching his lips to your neck seconds later.

you tilt your head back to give him a better angle, sighing in pleasure as he nips at the soft skin. one hand is feeling up your chest as his teeth dig into your collar, tongue sliding over the marks he’s leaving in an attempt to soothe the irritated areas.

you move your own fingers down between both of your bodies, ghosting them over the crotch of his jeans, palming him just a bit. his dick is already straining against your hand, and he hisses a string of curses into your shoulder.

“no more teasing tonight, i need you now.” he grumbles, already out of breath as his hands travel to undo the button of your pants.

you take the lead and slide them down yourself, tearing your thin panties off with them because you want him just as much. it doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one exposed, so you tug his muscle tee upwards in desperation.

matt doesn’t protest, he just tosses it to the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. you let your fingers rake over his skin, down his abdomen and over his happy trail until your fingers meet the waistline of his jeans.

you glance up at him through your lashes as you unbuckle his belt, entirely naked now, and he swears he could finish just by looking at you.

the sensation of your hands skimming against his thighs as you drag his jeans and boxers to his ankles makes him twitch. nobody has ever turned him on the way you do, and it’s frightening how good you make him feel.

but you always enjoy everything just as much, because he’s the best dick you’ve ever had. perfect length, enough girth to stretch you out, and he knows exactly how to move to your liking. matt even keeps it trimmed nicely.

the tip glistens with precum, and you pull your hair back with one hand like you’re getting ready to put it in your mouth.

“no, stand back up baby.” he instructs, and the commanding note in his voice makes you push yourself off your knees, extending to your full height.

matt turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, one hand on your side and the other on your back as he forces you to bend at the waist. your forearms press flat against the cool marble counter, and the assertiveness of it all sends a jolt of excitement right to your core.

his palm comes down on the curve of your ass without warning, just hard enough to sting. you let out a whimper, arching your back more as you gaze at him through the reflection.

he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, smoothing his hand over the place he just hit. his eyes are so dark, so full of desire that it just solidifies the way you feel about him.

“you like that? you want me to be rough?” matt leans over you, cock pressed against you as he speaks into your ear.

“please.” you whine, shifting your hips to try and feel more of him, to feel anything.

he stops your movements immediately and smacks your ass again, this time on the opposite side. it makes you groan in delight, almost involuntarily.

“you’re gonna look at yourself while i fuck you, got it princess?” he says, backing up just a bit so he can take his dick into his own hand and pump a few times.

you nod as you feel him line himself up at your entrance, and you know that at this angle you’re perfectly on display for him.

he pushes himself inside of you in one fluid motion, and you gasp as his fingers squeeze your hip. matt doesn’t give you time to adjust to him like normal. instead he immediately starts to pick up speed, wrapping your hair in his free hand so you can’t look anywhere else besides in front of you.

your lips are parted as you moan, eyes fluttering at the stimulation. you can hear matt grunting behind you, a deliciously dirty sound.

“look at how pretty you are, taking me so well. all fucking mine.” he marvels, rocking your body against him even harder.

skin slaps together, and his pace is making your legs tremble. you can feel the party raging on underneath you, and it’s strangely even hotter in this setting.

“shit, you fill me up so good matt.” you tell him, catching his eyes for a second before he throws his head back.

“fuck.”

he’s hitting it so well, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with every stroke. it’s turning him into an even bigger mess.

“god, if you keep that up i’m not gonna last much longer.” he warns, bucking his hips into you at a slightly different angle.

you cry out at the new sensation, a guttural noise that you didn’t even know you could make.

“i’m so close, right there babe.”

matt listens perfectly, using the hand on your waist to guide you so that you bounce against his thighs in the same spot. you’re a whining mess, and you can’t keep looking in the mirror.

you feel the tears as your eyes screw shut. the fire in your stomach is growing, spreading throughout your whole body. he tugs your roots a little bit more.

“come all over my dick, pretty girl. it’s all yours.”

his words are what send you over the edge, and your body shudders as you feel yourself giving in to the high, releasing all over him.

“fuck, matt, stay inside.” you pant, and he groans loudly.

two more sloppy strokes and you feel him tense, filling you up as he finishes. matt lets go of your hair, dragging his fingers along your shoulders, you back. you look so fucked out, makeup smudged slightly under your eyes, and you both love it.

he pulls out slowly, giving you one last tiny pat on your ass.

you’ve both got stars in your eyes as you stand, and you can feel the wetness pool against your thighs. thank god you’re on birth control. this was a special occasion anyways.

you turn, and matt immediately pulls you in for a kiss. you smile slightly, because you can’t help it.

“come on, i need to get cleaned up.” you pull away slightly.

“fine.” he sighs, but he lets you go regardless.

you wipe yourself off with some toilet paper quickly and flush it while he redresses. you two have been missing for minute now.

you guess it doesn’t really matter. sure, you should probably be discrete about having sex around your friends. but you’re also together. officially.

“so, does this mean i can tell the other girls in your dms to fuck off?” you joke as you put your underwear back on, shimmying into your jeans next.

“you can honestly tell them whatever you want.” matt runs a hand through his hair, smiling at you like a fucking goofball.

you’re just situating your shirt into place when the door comes swinging open, revealing a very drunk nathan. you and matt freeze, completely unsure what to do.

his eyes go wide as he realizes what’s going on, mouth hanging open like he can’t believe it.

“woah. no fucking way”

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Sixteen: Wishful Thinking

Chapter WC: 10,811

Chapter Tags/Warnings: minor blood/wound care, major grief/mourning themes

A/N: A lot going on in this one, but I couldn’t stand to break it into two chapters. This is one of the heaviest chapters so far, but also one of the sweetest. Hopefully that makes up for it somewhat!

And just getting it out now that I don’t plan on talking about Satine much in this fic, so please don’t set your hopes too high lol.

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Coruscant, 21 BBY

You’ve never met Duchess Satine Kryze, but she must be a beautiful and formidable woman to have such a hold on Obi-Wan after all these years.

He's always spoken of her with the utmost respect and detachment, but you can sense the truth that lies beneath. It doesn’t surprise you that he's the one who has been sent to Mandalore in the wake of the attack on a Republic cruiser by a Mandalorian saboteur, leaving you in command of the 212th.

It does, however, annoy you.

Though, not in the way you expect. In your youth, you were jealous of her, the thought of Obi-Wan being with another woman had caused an ugly, green-eyed monster to rear its head within you. As time has passed, and especially since your conversation in the gardens, that feeling has faded. Replaced by something else entirely.

Concern.

You've had a bad feeling about the situation on Mandalore ever since Obi-Wan told you about his assignment, and it's one that's been difficult to let go of. Obi-Wan is a good man, an excellent General, a brilliant tactician and negotiator. But as his history with the Duchess, and yourself, has proven, his ability to remain objective when it comes to the safety and welfare of those close to him is sorely lacking.

Your worry is compounded by the fact that the 212th is being called into action. A force of Separatist droids has sprouted up like weeds on Null, a short jump from Mandalore, and the Third Army is being sent to deal with them. As a Jedi, you can't ignore the call to arms, but as a friend, you're hesitant to leave Obi-Wan without the support of the 212th. You can only hope that he will have the clarity of mind to focus on the bigger picture, rather than the smaller, more personal details.

Not that you were unfamiliar with such distractions.

Null is a lush planet, filled with dense tropical forests and dramatic mountain ranges. It's also the home of one of Dooku's many retreats, an extravagant manor built into the side of a mountain, with a sprawling view of the valley and city below. A city that's now crawling with battle droids. An orbital bombardment is out of the question, and the Separatist defenses are proving difficult to penetrate.

So, instead of a quick, clean victory, it's going to be a messy, bloody slog.

You sigh and look down at the tactical display, your brow furrowed. You'd woken early this morning, arriving to the strategy room long before everyone else, and you've spent the past few hours pouring over the reports, trying to come up with a plan of attack. And a plan for how you can get inside the castle and deal with Dooku once and for all.

Yaddle's message is still fresh in your mind, her voice still ringing in your ears. Her words are still etched into your heart. You know what you have to do, and the temptation to do so is growing with each passing day. With each new casualty. With each loss.

But there's still the war to contend with, as well as the possibility of failure. If you attempt to go after Dooku and fail, if he gets the upper hand and kills you, the galaxy will lose a Jedi Master. And if you manage to kill him and survive, you will lose the moral high ground. The Order could brand you a murderer, and that would spell the end for your career, your life, and your friendships. There would be no going back.

No, it's not worth the risk.

At least, not yet.

You're so lost in thought that you don't hear the door slide open behind you, nor do you hear the footsteps approaching. It isn't until Rex clears his throat that you realize he's standing behind you.

You don’t startle, and it should surprise you, but it doesn’t. You're too used to Rex's presence by now, the warmth of his energy in the Force as familiar as the sun rising over Coruscant each morning, and the normal tension that comes with someone stepping into your space is absent. Instead, a sense of calm washes over you. 

Your shoulders relax, your heartbeat slows, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You don't turn around, not yet. You continue staring at the hologram of the valley, letting the feeling settle in.

It's strange. You'd expected this closeness between the two of you to fade once you'd returned to Coruscant. But it hasn't. If anything, it's grown stronger, and it's no longer something that only occurs in the safety of an empty meadow or a darkened hallway, away from the prying eyes of the Jedi Council and the GAR. Now, it's everywhere. In every moment. No matter what the two of you are doing.

You've tried not to read too much into it, tried not to dwell on the implications. But deep down, you know the truth. Rex isn't just a distraction. He's something else, something more.

But you're not ready to admit that. Not yet.

But that doesn't mean that you're not happy to see him.

"Good morning, Rex," you greet him, a hint of amusement in your tone, and you move your fingers across the display, changing the angle of the hologram. "Come to save me from myself?"

"How did you know it was me?" he asks. His voice is low, his tone teasing. He's close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

"Don't tell me you were trying to sneak up on me," you tease, glancing over your shoulder and giving him a wry smile.

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head. "I haven't forgotten what happened the last time I tried."

You smirk, remembering the incident on Felucia. It feels like a lifetime ago that you were holding him at the end of your blade, your eyes locked on his. There's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes now, but the memory still stings. You can still see mark on his pauldron under the layers of blue paint, a reminder of your recklessness, your paranoia.

"Neither have I," you mutter, and then you turn back to the hologram, tilting your head and studying the display. "What brings you here so early?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I’m always the first one here," Rex says. He steps around to the side of the holotable, leaning against the edge. His head tilts as he regards you, his hands behind his back, and his eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail. "You look like you haven't slept."

"I've had a lot on my mind," you admit with a sigh.

A slight frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, his gaze flickering to the table between the two of you, before returning to yours.

"Anything I can help with?" he offers. "Or, are you just trying to show the rest of us up by coming up with the perfect plan before anyone else arrives?"

You chuckle and shake your head, the corner of your mouth turning upwards. "Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid."

"I see," he replies, and a hint of disappointment flashes across his face, before vanishing. He nods at the holotable, and then, hesitates. "Do you...do you want to talk about it? Maybe it'll help. Clear your head."

You pause, considering his offer, and then, decide against it. You can't bring yourself to tell him about Yaddle, about what she said, not yet. Not when the wound is still so raw, so fresh. And while Rex is an exceptional listener, and you know he would offer his full support, you're not ready. Not for the conversation that will inevitably follow. 

So, instead, you give him a grateful smile and shake your head. "Thanks, but I'm okay."

"Alright," he concedes, though he looks unconvinced. 

You're grateful for it. You appreciate his understanding, his willingness to respect your boundaries. It's a relief, really. There's no awkwardness or discomfort. It's natural. Easy. And that's something you've rarely found outside the Jedi Order. Or inside it.

"Well, hopefully this helps, then." 

Rex moves his hand from behind his back and reveals a paper cup with a lid. Steam wafts from the opening, and you immediately recognize the scent of fresh caf. You perk up, your eyes widening.

"Is that...?"

"Freshly brewed?" he finishes as he sets it on the holotable in front of you. "Yep."

“For me?” you ask, even as you reach for it, wrapping your hands around the cup and reveling in the heat. You lift the cup to your nose and inhale deeply, the smell sending a shiver down your spine. “Really?”

Rex chuckles and shrugs, lifting up his own cup to his mouth. “Oh, well I was going to give it to Cody, but…”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen, and he smirks before taking a sip, the teasing glint in his eyes telling you he's enjoying your reaction. You roll your eyes, and a soft laugh escapes your lips, your cheeks warming.

“But you like me more?” you challenge, and Rex snorts, nearly spilling his caf. He covers his mouth and swallows hard, shaking his head at you as you raise an eyebrow at him. "That's what you're going to say, right?"

"Yeah," he rasps, clearing his throat. He sets his cup on the table and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sure. That."

"Good," you say, smiling sweetly at him. You raise your cup to him in a salute. "Because I like you more than Cody, too."

“I heard that.” 

You both straighten and turn as Cody strides into the room, a datapad in his hand, and the two of you exchange a sheepish look. You feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach, and Rex lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.

Cody raises his eyebrow as he walks around the holotable, glancing between the two of you. He looks like he's about to say something, but then shakes his head, his expression softening, and he turns to the display.

"What are we looking at?" he asks.

"A nest," Rex replies, his voice gruff, and he crosses his arms over his chest, any trace of amusement gone.

You're surprised at his sudden change in demeanor, and a part of you wants to laugh at the absurdity of it, but the other part, the one that's still slightly worried about being caught fraternizing, even if it's Cody, stops you. Instead, you nudge Rex with your elbow, giving him one last smile before you go over to stand beside the commander.

As you move, you take the first sip of your caf. You brace yourself for the bitter taste, but it doesn’t come. In fact, it tastes almost exactly like how you prefer to prepare it for yourself. You can’t help the noise of surprise that escapes you, and you eagerly take another sip.

Rex watches you from the corner of his eye, his mouth quirking into a half-smile, before turning back to the display.

Cody doesn't miss the exchange. His eyebrows raise, a curious look on his face, but he doesn't comment. Instead, he points to the map on the holotable.

"So, a nest, huh?" he asks. "And what kind of bird are we hunting?"

"A Krayt dragon," Rex says, and you snort, earning a glare from the captain. He huffs and continues, "A squadron of vulture droids, most likely from Count Dooku's estate, launched an attack on the nearby city and decimated the local forces. They're holed up in the surrounding mountains, and they're not giving up easily."

"Dooku's estate, you said," Cody repeats, and a thoughtful look crosses his face. "We'll have to deal with that later."

"Yes, we will," you mutter. He hums in return, and the three of you stand in silence, studying the display. The battle droids are well fortified, their numbers impressive, and you have a feeling that it's going to be a difficult fight.

You take another sip of your caf, savoring the rich flavor, and the caffeine courses through your veins, sending a jolt of energy through your body. It's enough to wake you up and sharpen your focus, and you can't help but smile. You look over at Rex and nod, mouthing a silent 'thank you'.

He ducks his head and turns away, but you can see the color rising in his cheeks, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He lifts his hand to his face, scratching the back of his head, and you have to stifle a laugh.

The doors slide open, and Anakin and the rest of the battalion's commanding officers file in, filling the room with a low murmur of voices. As they take their places around the holotable, Rex ends up next to you again. 

"You're welcome," he murmurs, his mouth barely moving. He doesn't look at you, keeping his eyes fixed on the map, but his arm brushes against yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

You hide your smile behind your cup, warmth blooming in your chest, and you take a moment to bask in the sensation before you shift, putting some distance between the two of you. The last thing you need is for someone else to notice the tension between the two of you, especially now that the room is full.

You're not ready to explain this...whatever it is, to anyone.

"Alright, everyone," Anakin calls, clapping his hands together. He steps forward and leans over the holotable, examining the map. "Let's get started."

The meeting passes quickly, and before long, the two of you are walking side by side through the corridors toward the hangar bay. The troops have already begun boarding the transport ships, and the hum of engines fills the air. Rex is at ease, his stride relaxed, his hands clasped behind his back. You, on the other hand, are anything but.

Your feet are dragging, a heaviness weighing on your shoulders that grows with every step. You're exhausted, and the thought of another battle, another confrontation, makes you want to curl up and sleep for days. The stress is beginning to wear on you, and the lack of a good night's sleep isn't helping. 

Still, there's a nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you that this is your chance. That this is the opportunity you've been waiting for. To finally confront Dooku.

"So," Rex begins slowly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "Is there any way I can convince you not to go on this mission?"

You huff a laugh, and you shake your head. "I wish."

"I had a feeling," he sighs, and his gaze returns to the corridor ahead. "You have that look on your face. Like you're ready to jump out of an airlock."

"Is it that obvious?"

"To me, yes," he tells you. He stops, turning to face you, and he rests his hand on your shoulder. He squeezes gently, and you find yourself leaning into it, savoring the contact. His thumb brushes against your collarbone as he leans forward, his gaze softening. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'll be fine," you assure him, and a half-smile tugs at your lips. "Don't worry about me."

"You say that," he chuckles, his tone rueful, and his grip on your shoulder tightens. His eyes search yours, and the humor fades. "But I do. And I know something's wrong."

"I..." You start, but stop, biting your lip. You take a deep breath and look away, your heart hammering in your chest. "I don't know what to tell you."

"You can tell me the truth," he says gently. He tilts his head, trying to catch your gaze. "What's going on? Are you...is it the nightmares?"

"It's not that," you sigh, and you rub the back of your neck, your eyes drifting towards the floor. 

You don't want to lie to him, not anymore, but you're not sure what to say. The truth is, it's more than just the nightmares. It's everything. The war, the Order, your past, your future. You've been struggling with it all, and it's getting harder and harder to keep it together. To maintain control. To hide your emotions. To ignore the growing desire for justice, vengeance, satisfaction. 

You let out a shaky breath and shake your head. "It's just...a lot."

"Yeah," he nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and then clears his throat. "Can I...is there anything I can do?"

"Not this time," you answer, a sad smile on your face. "But thank you."

"Alright," he sighs, resigned. Rex drops his hand and looks around, taking in the bustle of the hangar bay. His eyes linger on the transport ships, a distant look on his face. "You think we have a chance?"

"At taking out the vulture droids or taking out Dooku?" you ask, and his gaze returns to you. He offers you a wry grin.

"Either. Both."

You shrug. "I think we'll be fine. As long as we stick to the plan and work together, we should have no problem destroying the droids. As for Dooku..."

"Yeah, that's the hard part, isn't it?" he chuckles, and you nod, the corner of your mouth pulling into a small smile.

"It is," you agree. "But with a little luck, we might be able to capture him."

"Right," he says, rolling his eyes. "Luck."

"Well, we have to stay positive, don't we?" you tease, nudging his shoulder. He chuckles and shakes his head, and the two of you share a smile. It fades quickly, however, replaced by a somber expression.

He glances around, making sure no one's paying attention, before stepping closer. His gaze meets yours, and there's a seriousness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He opens his mouth, then closes it, hesitating, before trying again.

"What would you do if we did?" he asks quietly. "If we had him."

"I..." you start, but then trail off, considering the question. You don't have an answer. Not one you can speak aloud. There are so many conflicting emotions, so many feelings, swirling inside you, and it's hard to separate them. To pick out the right ones. The good ones. The ones that matter.

But underneath all of that, buried beneath the surface, is something else. A burning desire for revenge. For justice. And it's a desire that you're struggling to contain, to control. Every day, it grows stronger, demanding release, demanding action And every day, you deny it. Ignore it. Push it down. But it never goes away. Never disappears.

And it's becoming harder and harder to keep it in check.

Now, you're afraid that if you do catch Dooku, you won't be able to hold back. That you'll lash out and do something terrible, something unforgivable.

You've never admitted that to anyone, not even Obi-Wan. You know he's under the impression that you've released most of the darkest parts of yourself into the Force, but that's far from the truth. You can't help it. You're only human, after all. 

And like any other human, you're capable of horrible, terrible, things. You know that better than most.

 But Rex...he might understand. He's seen first-hand what Dooku is capable of, the pain he's caused. If anyone could understand, it would be him.

You look up at him, your eyes searching his, and he stares back, his expression solemn, his brow furrowed. He doesn't pressure you, doesn't push, just waits patiently, giving you time.

"I don't know," you finally answer, and the lie burns your tongue, the words coming out thick and heavy. You swallow hard and look away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You can tell me," he says softly. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," you nod, forcing yourself to smile.

"Good," he murmurs. "That's good."

There's an awkward silence between the two of you, and you stare at the ground, unsure of what to say. You can sense his eyes on you, and the intensity makes your stomach twist. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and a chill runs down your spine. You cross your arms, rubbing your palms up and down your sleeves.

"Just..." 

You take a shaky breath and raise your head, meeting his gaze. His expression is gentle, kind, and it helps. It gives you the courage to continue.

"Just stay close to me, okay?" you whisper, your voice cracking slightly. You clear your throat and force a smile, and it hurts. Everything hurts. Your chest is tight, your throat dry. "Please."

Rex's frown deepens, and he opens his mouth to reply, but he's cut off by a voice echoing down the hallway.

"Rex! Where are you? We're ready to launch!"

He sighs and looks away, running a hand over his head. "I gotta go."

"I know," you tell him, swallowing past the lump your throat. You take a step forward and reach for him, resting your hand on his arm. "Be careful out there, okay? Don't do anything stupid."

He scoffs, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he looks down at you. "Who, me?"

"Yes, you," you tease.

"I'm always careful," he retorts, and the two of you exchange a knowing look. You squeeze his arm and let go, stepping back, and his eyes linger on yours.

"Rex!" the voice calls again, more insistent.

"Go," you say. "Before Fives comes looking for you."

Rex smirks, and then gives you a nod. He turns and strides down the hall, and you watch him go, your heart aching, a strange feeling twisting in your gut.

You can't name it, can't put a word to it. It's not quite worry, not quite fear, not quite sadness. But it's all of those things, and more. A feeling of loss, maybe. Or regret. Or guilt.

Rex reaches the end of the corridor, and he turns, glancing back at you. You give him a small wave, forcing a smile, and his gaze lingers, his eyes searching yours. Then, he turns, and he's gone.

You stand there, rooted to the spot, staring after him.

Dread.

The feeling is dread.

Null, 21 BBY

An explosion rattles the ground beneath your feet, and you dive for cover, the deafening sound of blaster fire echoing around you. You roll behind a pile of rubble and lean against the stone, catching your breath. Across the dust-filled courtyard, Rex is hunkered down behind a broken statue, his blasters in his hands.

You lock eyes with him and he nods, holding up his hand, the signal to wait. You nod back and turn, peering around the edge of the stones, looking for an opening. The courtyard is crawling with battle droids, their laser fire tearing through the air, and it's impossible to tell where the droids end and the Republic troops begin.

A clone runs past, his armor streaked with blood, and a battle droid lunges out of the smoke, grabbing him. You reach out, calling upon the Force, and the droid flies through the air, slamming into a wall. The clone stares at you, and then nods, rushing back into the fray.

Another explosion rocks the courtyard, and the ground trembles, chunks of stone and dirt falling from the sky. You grit your teeth and push off the ground, leaping to the top of the rubble, your lightsabers igniting. A storm of bolts comes flying at you, and you deflect them, sending them back at the droids.

"General!"

You glance over your shoulder, and a squad of clones come running towards you, their weapons raised. They're led by Waxer, and they're covered in dust and dirt, but otherwise unharmed.

"Waxer, nice of you to finally join us," you shout, and the clones laugh, ducking behind the debris.

"Well, we couldn't leave our General hanging, now could we?" he retorts. He peers around the stones, scanning the courtyard, and then looks back at you. "Commander said you were having a rough time, thought we could give you a hand."

"How kind of him," you deadpan. You jump off the rocks, landing next to the clones, and you take a deep breath, letting the Force flow through you. Your skin tingles, and your muscles tense. The world around you slows to a standstill as your heart beats faster, pounding against your chest. You can see every detail, every movement, every particle.

"Any sign of Dooku?" Waxer asks.

You grit your teeth. The Force ripples around you, telling you what you already suspected from the moment you landed on Null. Dooku is gone, if he ever was here. Another lie. Another dead end. Another wasted opportunity.

"He's not here."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," you grunt, and everything comes rushing back. The sound, the smell, the taste of smoke and blood and sweat. It's overwhelming, but it's familiar, and your senses adjust quickly, settling back into their normal rhythm. "Looks like this is a vacation home, not a military base."

"Great," he sighs. He raises his blaster and fires, taking out a pair of battle droids before ducking back behind cover. "Well, at least the vultures are taken care of."

"That's one good thing, I guess." You crouch beside him, your brow furrowed, exhaustion tugging at your limbs. "Now, we just have to clean up this mess."

Rex darts across the courtyard, his blasters firing, and a stream of red light follows his movements. He slides to a stop beside you, and he leans against the rubble, his chest heaving. His helmet tilts towards you, looking at you over his shoulder.

"Good to see you, General," he pants.

"You, too," you reply, giving him a tired smile.

"Did we miss anything?"

"Not really," Waxer tells him. "We were just about to start mopping up."

The three of you look over at the troopers now pouring into the courtyard in a sea of blue and orange, their numbers quickly overwhelming the droids. It's a chaotic scene, with blaster bolts flying through the air and smoke filling the space, but the tide has clearly turned in the Republic's favor.

"Come on, then," you say, and you rise, stretching. Your muscles ache, and your knees protest, but you ignore them. "Let's get this done."

You turn and lead the way, jumping into the fray.  Within minutes, the last of the battle droids fall, their smoking corpses littering the ground. You stand in the middle of the carnage, surveying the damage. There are scorch marks everywhere, bodies strewn across the stones, pieces of broken droids scattered about.

It's a mess, but it could have been worse.

Much worse.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, centering yourself. You deactivate your lightsabers and tuck them into your belt, a weary smile on your face. It's over. Finally. You'd been fighting for hours, and you're ready to rest.

"Good work, everyone," you call out, raising your voice so it can be heard above the din. "I think we're done here."

There's a loud cheer, and the troops start gathering their gear, cleaning up the battlefield. Rex approaches you, and the two of you stand together, watching the men work.

Rex lets out a loud sigh, and he takes his helmet off, wiping the sweat from his brow. His blond hair is matted with dirt, and his face is covered in grime. He glances over at you, and his eyes crinkle with a tired smile.

"Well, that was a fun morning," he chuckles, and the clones in the near vicinity laugh at the quip. Waxer gives him a good-natured slap on the back as he walks by, and you snort, shaking your head.

"Glad you enjoyed yourself," you retort, and his smile widens.

He turns and gestures to the castle looming in the distance. "Do we still want to take a look around?"

"We might as well," you say, shrugging. "It's not like we're going to get a chance like this again."

Rex nods and pulls out his commlink, tapping a button. A voice crackles to life, and he begins issuing orders, the clones splitting off into teams and heading towards the estate. He watches them go, and then he looks over at you, nodding.

"Ready when you are."

You take a deep breath and begin walking, Rex falling into step beside you. The estate is sprawling, a series of towers and spires rising up from the valley floor. It's surrounded by a high stone wall, and you can see turrets peeking out from the battlements. You've never seen a more dreary, impenetrable fortress.

The main doors are open, and a squad is standing guard, their weapons raised. As you draw nearer to the entrance, a sense of anticipation settles over you, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. 

Your hand drifts towards your lightsaber, and your fingers tighten around the hilt. You can sense something, but you can't put your finger on it. An energy, an electricity, a presence, but it's faint, just out of reach. Something inside you wants to run, either away or toward, and you can't tell which.

You hear a grunt beside you, and you glance at Rex. His face is pinched, and for the first time you notice him limping, his left leg dragging a bit behind his right. Concern flares inside you, and you stop, turning towards him.

"You're hurt," you accuse, and his eyes widen, his jaw clenching.

"I'm fine," he insists, but his voice is strained, and the pain is clear in his eyes. You shake your head and grab his arm, pulling him to a stop. Whatever is behind those doors can wait.

"Rex, what's wrong?" you ask, and he sighs, his shoulders slumping.

"Just a little bruised," he admits. 

You arch an eyebrow, gesturing to his leg. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," he insists. "I'll be fine."

"Uh huh," you murmur. You step closer and lean forward into his space, looking into his eyes. He avoids your gaze, his cheeks reddening, and you narrow your eyes, sensing the truth. "Rex."

"What?" he grumbles.

"You should see a medic."

"I will," he promises, and his eyes dart over to the others, before returning to yours. "Later."

"Liar," you grin, and his lips twitch. You roll your eyes.

The two of you watch as the troopers file into the estate, disappearing from sight. When they're gone, he lets out a breath and looks at you, the tension in his body easing. You're grateful for the quiet, the stillness, the opportunity to collect yourself.

But it's also a relief to have him all to yourself, without the constant pressure of the others, the expectations and attention. And you can tell he feels the same.

"I am a liar," he admits sheepishly. He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, a shy smile spreading across his face. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Maybe," you tease, and his grin widens, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Sit down. I'll take a look at it."

"You don't have to," he starts, but you shake your head, cutting him off.

"No arguing. Sit."

Rex grumbles but does as you say, letting you lead him over to the half-shattered fountain in the center of the courtyard, the water long gone. He lowers himself to the ground, hissing in pain, and you kneel beside him. Together, you remove the armor from his leg, setting it aside. The fabric of his bodysuit is torn, and underneath is a nasty-looking gash, a mixture of dirt and dried blood caking his skin.

You bite your lip, worry bubbling inside you. You've seen worse, much worse, but there's something about seeing him hurt that makes your heart clench. You know you're being irrational, that the injury isn't serious, and that the medics will be able to treat him. Still, it hurts. To see him in pain. To feel his pain.

"It's not that bad," he mutters. He's looking down at you, his brow furrowed, and he gives you a reassuring smile. "Honest."

"Uh huh," you say, unconvinced, and he huffs a laugh. You reach out, tentatively, your hand hovering over his leg. "This might sting."

"I can handle it," he tells you. You raise an eyebrow, and he gives you a crooked grin. "Probably."

You roll your eyes and move your hand closer, your fingers gently brushing the swollen skin. Rex sucks in a breath through his teeth, and you wince as you're hit with a jolt of his pain, sharp and sudden.

You breathe deep, steadying yourself, and then you press your hand fully against the wound, letting the Force flow through you into him.

You're far from adept in the healing arts, one of many weaknesses in your skill set, and you're no healer, but you can do this much. It's not a particularly complex injury. The tissue needs to be repaired, the pain reduced, and if you syphon some of your own energy, it's not as difficult as it seems. At least, that's what you tell yourself.

Still, it's not easy. The injury is larger than you thought, and the pain is intense. Rex tenses underneath your touch, his leg twitching, and you can hear his teeth grinding. His jaw is clenched so tightly, you fear his teeth might crack. You blindly reach up with your opposite hand and rest it on his knee, trying to steady him.

"Easy," you murmur. His hand settles on top of yours, your fingers intwining. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, his thumb stroking your knuckles. "Almost done. Just breathe."

"Right," he says, his voice strained. He lets out a shaky breath and nods. "Keep going."

You let out a breath of your own, and you continue the work, draining your energy into him. After a few more moments, the wound is closed, the pain reduced, and you withdraw your hand, pulling back the fabric to examine the newly healed skin. It's a little pink and raw, but it'll do. He'll need proper medical attention, but for now, it'll keep him on his feet.

"There," you say, and Rex lets out a soft groan, the tension in his body fading. He looks down at the wound, and he turns his leg side to side, admiring your handiwork. "Good as new."

"Wow," he breathes. "That's...impressive."

"Yeah, I'm pretty great, aren't I?" you tease.

"Yeah," he nods. His hand is still holding yours, his fingers lightly tracing your knuckles. "You are."

The sincerity in his voice surprises you, and your cheeks warm, your heart skipping a beat. You swallow hard, and you give him a weak smile, trying not to read too much into his words.

"Thanks," you murmur. You let go of his hand and sit back, and he sighs, his eyes never leaving yours. You shift under his gaze, unsure of what to do, or say, and then, his expression changes, his head tilting.

"Why don't you do that more often?" he asks, and you frown, confused. He gestures to his leg. "Heal."

"Oh," you reply, just as a wave of exhaustion washes over you. You try to suppress a yawn and fail. "It's not something I like to advertise. I'd rather not burn myself out."

Rex raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. You hesitate, biting your lip. It's not something you're proud of, and it's not something you talk about often, but for some reason, you feel compelled to share.

"I'm not particularly skilled in the healing arts," you admit. You look away, your brow furrowing. "Some can draw on the Living Force, use its power to heal others. I can't."

"But you did just now," he points out carefully.

"I did," you acknowledge, and a wry smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You turn and meet his gaze. "But it took a lot out of me, and I don't mean that metaphorically. If I'm not careful, if I'm not prepared, it could kill me."

Rex's eyes widen, and a look of panic flashes across his face. His hands clench into fists, and he shakes his head, scowling.

"Don't ever do that," he orders, and you chuckle. "Seriously. Don't. Not for me."

"If I didn't, you would have been laid up in the infirmary for a week," you tell him, trying to sound casual, but your tone is anything but. Your words come out more harshly than intended, a bit more bitter. "Besides, I wanted to. You're worth it."

Rex stares at you, stunned, a flicker of something passing over his features. Surprise? Confusion? A hint of fear? You're not sure, but it makes your stomach twist, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your gut. You swallow hard, resisting the urge to look away.

"You shouldn't have," he tells you, shaking his head. "You could have-"

"But I didn't," you interrupt, and he sighs, the corners of his mouth turning down. You stand and brush the dirt and debris from your robes, clearing your throat. "And if you ever tell anyone I did that, I'll deny it. Got it?"

Rex snorts, the scowl vanishing, and slowly rises to his feet, testing his weight on his injured leg. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, his neck cracking, and then he nods. "Got it."

"Good," you huff. 

You watch as he reattaches his armor, your arms crossed over your chest. He seems to have forgotten about the estate, about the mission, his mind on other things. His expression is thoughtful, his eyes distant, and you can't help but wonder what he's thinking. What he's feeling. Whether or not he's upset with you. With himself.

You know you've worried him, that he's afraid of what might have happened, but you don't regret it. Not one bit. He needed your help, and you gave it. It's as simple as that. Besides, you're a Jedi, aren't you? Isn't this what the Order teaches? That compassion and generosity are the most important aspects of your duty, your life?

Still, there's a nagging voice in the back of your head, a voice telling you that what you did was selfish. That you did it for yourself, not for him. That you did it because you care about him, because you can't stand the thought of him being hurt.

And, the truth is, it is. It is selfish, it is reckless. 

You're not a healer, not really. You don't know how to channel the Living Force, how to heal the wounded, or cure the sick. You only know how to take, how to absorb the pain and suffering of others and give something of yourself in return, and you've never done more than a handful of healing sessions in your life. You're a warrior, not a physician. 

And yet, here you are, playing medic, because it's Rex. Because you can't help yourself.

Rex finishes buckling his armor and looks at you, his expression unreadable. You meet his gaze, and a moment passes between the two of you. An understanding. A realization. Something is changing, something fundamental, and neither of you knows what to do about it. But you don't need to. Not yet.

"Listen," he starts, his voice soft. "I—"

"Sir!"

The two of you flinch, startled, and you turn towards the source of the voice, your hand drifting towards your lightsaber. Fives and Echo are jogging across the courtyard, their blasters raised. You relax, and Rex lets out a sigh, running a hand over his head.

"Yes?" he calls.

"General," Fives pants, and he skids to a stop, his helmet under his arm. "Sorry to interrupt, but we found something."

"What is it?" Rex asks, frowning. 

Fives glances at you, and a grim expression settles on his face. He shifts from foot to foot, his eyes darting between the two of you.

"It's...just come see."

Rex nods, and he gestures for Fives to lead the way. The trooper hurries off, and you follow, Rex at your side. The four of you weave through the rubble toward the castle, Fives and Echo in the lead, Rex and you a few steps behind. You feel a chill creep up your spine, a sense of unease filling you, and your hand rests on your lightsaber, your thumb brushing against the hilt.

As the doors loom overhead, Rex looks over his shoulder and meets your gaze. You shake your head, a silent warning, and he nods, his expression hardening.

Whatever it is, it's not good.

You pass through the archway and into the darkened hall. The interior is massive, a high vaulted ceiling overhead, with ornate columns rising from the floor to the roof. The walls are lined with marble, and the floor is polished black stone. There are statues lining the walls, and they look like they were once pristine, but now they're covered in soot, and chunks of the ceiling have fallen, smashing the art. The place smells like smoke and death.

"This way," Echo says, gesturing to the left. The group turns and heads down the hallway, your footsteps echoing around you.

As you move deeper into the castle, the air becomes thicker, the smell of smoke and dust growing stronger. The hallways narrow, and the walls become rougher, the marble replaced by stone. Torches flicker along the walls, casting eerie shadows across the floor.

Your uneasiness only compounds the further you walk, and a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. You're starting to feel sick, the sensation only growing stronger with each step.

You glance over at Rex to find him already watching you, his brow furrowed. He slows, letting the others get a few paces ahead, and he leans towards you, his voice low.

"What is it?" he asks. "Do you sense something?"

"I do," you whisper. You rub your temples, your eyes drifting closed. "But I can't put my finger on it. It's..."

"What?" he prompts.

"Dark," you say. "Very dark."

"Shit," he breathes. His hand reaches out, hovering near your shoulder, as if he wants to comfort you, but he hesitates. "Do you want to go back?"

"No," you murmur. You take a deep breath and open your eyes, meeting his concerned gaze. "I'll be fine."

"Alright," he says, though the worry remains in his eyes. He steps back, putting a little distance between the two of you, and he nods towards the others. "Let's catch up."

You nod, and the two of you resume walking, following the clones through the gloom. The air is getting colder, the scent of smoke growing stronger, and you can hear a low hissing sound, like gas escaping from a broken pipe. You grit your teeth, doing your best to ignore it. Whatever it is, whatever is making you feel so ill, it's coming from up ahead.

After what feels like an eternity, the four of you come to a stop outside a massive wooden door, and Fives looks back at Rex, gesturing towards the handle. The captain nods, and the trooper takes a deep breath, reaching for the knob.

"Ready?" he asks.

"No," you answer, and the three of them chuckle, the sound echoing around you.

Fives nods and pulls the door open, and a wave of cold air rushes out, blowing through your hair and making the torches flicker. You shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin, and a lump forms in your throat.

There's a long, winding staircase leading down into the darkness. The walls are covered in soot, and the stones are slick with ice. The air is frigid, and your breath mists in front of your face. You can hear the sound of dripping water, and the scent of dampness and decay fills the air.

"I don't like this," Fives mutters, and Echo grunts in agreement.

Rex looks over at you, and a wry grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. "What do you think, General?"

"It's creepy as hell," you deadpan.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he chuckles, and he steps forward, placing his foot on the first step. "Come on, then. Let's get this over with."

You follow him into the stairwell, and the rest of the squad falls in line behind you, the four of you descending into the darkness. The light from the torches quickly fades, and the only sound is the scrape of your boots against the ice-covered stone, and the occasional drip of water.

The further you go, the worse the feeling gets, and the air grows colder, the smell of rotting wood and mold invading your nose. You feel like you can't breathe, like there's a hand gripping your throat, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

"You sure you're alright?" Rex asks quietly. He doesn't turn to look at you, keeping his gaze fixed on the steps, his fingers gripping the railing.

"No," you murmur, and he frowns, glancing at you over his shoulder.

"Do you want to go back?" he asks.

"Not unless you do," you reply. "It's just..."

"Yeah," he agrees, nodding.

The stairs eventually level out, and the path opens into a cavernous chamber, the ceiling soaring high above your head. The walls are covered in stalactites, and the ground is slick with ice. You can't see beyond your hand, and you stumble forward, your foot sliding out from under you.

"Easy," Rex murmurs, grabbing your arm, steadying you.

"Thanks," you grunt, and you let out a shaky breath, trying to get your bearings. You draw your sabers, the yellow blades illuminating the room, and you hear the sound of the others' flashlights flicking on, the beams of light dancing around the space.

"What the hell is this place?" Fives asks. His voice is hushed, but it echoes around you, the silence deafening.

"I don't know," Rex whispers. He lets go of your arm and walks forward, his eyes scanning the room. You stay close, not wanting to lose him in the darkness. "It looks like some sort of dungeon, or..."

"A tomb," you finish, and he looks back at you, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah," he agrees. "It does."

You step forward, your gaze sweeping the area. The ceiling is high, the walls covered in icicles. The ground is smooth, with a layer of ice coating it, and you can see a path leading deeper into the cavern. You feel a tug, a pull, and your pulse quickens.

"Rex," you murmur.

"Yeah," he says. He follows your gaze, and he sighs, his expression grim. "I know."

You nod and begin moving forward, the others falling in line behind you. Your footsteps are muffled by the ice, and the air grows colder, a chill settling over the room. The light from your sabers doesn't seem to reach the walls, and the darkness presses in on you, like a living, breathing thing.

"General," Echo says, his voice low. "You don't think this is a trap, do you?"

"I don't know." You shrug, and the three clones let out a chorus of sighs. You turn and look back at them, arching an eyebrow. "If it is, it's not a very good one."

"True," Fives agrees. "Maybe Dooku isn't as smart as we thought."

"Or, maybe he's playing a different game," Rex says, his tone grim. He glances at you, his eyes lingering on yours. "Just...be ready."

"Always," you assure him.

You continue through the cave, the air growing colder, the ice thickening beneath your feet. The path twists and turns, and the ceiling lowers, until you have to duck to avoid the icicles hanging above.

Finally, the path opens into another large chamber, and you come to a stop, taking in the sight before you. The ground is littered with debris, chunks of stone and rubble scattered around the space. A row of unlit torches lines the walls, and you can see a series of steps leading down into the center of the room, the ground cracked and broken.

And there, in the middle of the chaos, is a pedestal.

You frown, stepping forward. There's something on top of the pedestal, but it's too far away to see clearly. You reach the edge of the broken ground, and you stop, peering down.

"What is that?" you murmur.

Rex comes up beside you, his brow furrowed. "Looks like a...box."

Your blood runs cold, and you turn, your hand twisting. The torches ignite, filling the room with light, and you see the box, the ornate wood gleaming in the torchlight. Its surface is scorched and dented, and it's covered in ash, but there's no mistaking it.

"Get out," you say, your voice hoarse.

"What?" Fives asks. "But we—"

"Get out!" you shout, and they flinch, stumbling backwards. "Now!"

Rex hesitates, his eyes darting from the box to your face, and you stare at him, your hands clenched into fists, the blood roaring in your ears. After a moment, he nods, and he raises his hand, signaling the others to fall back.

"Yes, sir," Fives murmurs, and he turns and begins marching back the way you came. Echo gives you a long look, his eyes lingering on yours, and then he, too, retreats. Rex doesn't move, and you turn, glaring at him.

"Go," you order.

"You told me to stay close to you, remember?" he retorts, and his voice is laced with anger, his jaw clenched. "Well, I am. And I'm not leaving."

You sigh, a headache building behind your eyes, and you shake your head. "Rex, I—"

"No," he growls. "Don't. Don't push me away."

"It's not—"

"You're not going through this alone."

"But—"

"I don't care."

His voice echoes around the chamber, and you swallow hard, the air rushing from your lungs. You stare at him, at his unwavering determination, his absolute refusal to back down, and a part of you wants to push him, wants to shove him away and send him back to the others. He's disobeying your orders, he's questioning your authority, and you should be angry. You should be furious.

But instead, you feel relieved.

You turn back towards the pedestal, the box gleaming in the flickering light, and a cold weight settles in the pit of your stomach.

"Alright," you sigh, deactivating your sabers and shoving them into their holsters. "Fine."

Rex's expression softens, and he reaches for you, his hand settling on your shoulder. You lean into him, his warmth comforting, and he squeezes gently.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

You nod, and the two of you begin the descent, slowly making your way down the broken path. The ground is slick with ice, and your feet slide a few times, Rex's grip on your shoulder tightening to keep you from falling. You finally reach the bottom, and you approach the pedestal, a lump forming in your throat.

You stand over the box, and you run your fingers along the surface. It's warm, and there's a faint vibration, the Force humming with energy.

"What is it?" Rex asks, his voice quiet.

"It's..." You trail off, and you swallow hard. "It's what I found when I went out that night."

He frowns, and then recognition dawns on his face, and his eyes widen. "You mean when you were attacked?"

"Yes," you whisper.

Rex is silent, and you stare at the box, a wave of emotion welling up inside you. Anger, sadness, grief. They mix together, churning in your stomach, and you clench your fists, the nails digging into your palms. You can feel the darkness swirling around you, a miasma of pain and fury, and it threatens to drown you. But you can't look away, can't turn your back.

"Are you sure?" he murmurs.

"Yes," you repeat, and the word comes out thick, the tears burning hot. "I'm sure."

"Then, it's him," Rex whispers, his voice laced with sympathy. He steps closer, his hand settling on your back, his thumb rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades. "Isn't it?"

"It is."

You reach out and place your hand on the lid, and the wood is smooth and cool under your fingertips. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself, and then, with a single, smooth motion, you lift the lid. The hinges creak, the sound echoing around the chamber, and a cloud of dust swirls in the air.

The inside of the box is lined with a velvet material, the fabric faded and worn. The scrap of her robe is still there, along with the datapad, but that isn't what makes your heart seize in your chest. 

It's the lightsaber.

You recognize it immediately, the sleek, silver hilt a stark contrast against the crimson fabric. It's the same design, the same length, the same width. You've seen it a hundred times, a thousand, more than you can count. But the last time you saw it, it was in her hands, a blaze of green light. Now, it sits, cold and lifeless, and the ache inside you only grows.

And when you reach out, your fingers brushing the blade, the hum that vibrates up your arm is unmistakable. The same hum, the same vibration, the same power. Her power.

"Is that..." Rex breathes, his eyes wide.

"Yes," you choke out, the tears spilling over.

You can feel his presence behind you, his energy warm and steady. But even his strength can't shield you from the anguish that bubbles up inside you, a deep, primal wound reopening. It's a wound you've spent the past ten years ignoring, pushing aside, burying deep, but now it's tearing you apart, the pain consuming you.

Your hand encloses around the hilt, pulling it to your chest. The metal is cold, and you can feel the steady, rhythmic pulse of the kyber crystal inside, a faint echo of her Force signature. It's been so long since you've felt her presence. Since you've been able to sense her power, her wisdom, her kindness.

It's like a knife to the heart, the wound reopened, bleeding anew.

Rex's hand grips your shoulder, a comforting weight, but the sorrow is a tidal wave, drowning you. It's all too much. The memories, the guilt, the regret. They crash over you, threatening to drag you under, and a sob tears from your lips. You're falling, the darkness consuming you, the void swallowing you whole. You're spiraling out of control, the pain overwhelming, and you can't stop it, can't hold it back. All you can do is cling to the hilt, to her weapon, and hope she can forgive you.

But as you fall to your knees, Rex is there. His arms wrap around you before you can hit the ground, a cry ripping from your throat, and the two of you sink down together, your head pressed against his shoulder.

You bury your face in his neck, the tears flowing freely, your body trembling. His hand finds yours, the one holding her lightsaber, and he entwines his fingers with yours, his other arm tightening around your waist. He's whispering something, his voice soft and soothing, but you can't make out the words, can't focus on anything but the pain. And as Rex holds you, your face pressed against his neck, you let go.

You let the emotions wash over you, the grief and the agony and the remorse. You let the darkness consume you, and you let yourself feel the pain. Because this is what she would have wanted. This is what she would have told you.

To let go. To release the past. To find peace.

So, that's what you do. For the first time in ten years, you let yourself mourn.

You mourn the loss of her, the emptiness in your life, the absence of her guidance, her friendship. You mourn the future that could have been, the bond the two of you shared. The connection that was severed, the wound that will never heal.

It's the most painful thing you've ever experienced, and the agony is a physical thing, clawing at your chest, tearing through your heart. It's the most intense emotion you've ever felt, and it's excruciating, but you don't pull away. You don't hide from it. Instead, you cling to Rex, his arms a steady, reassuring weight around you, and you let yourself feel it. All of it.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, your voice muffled against his armor. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he murmurs, his voice strained, and his fingers tangle in your hair, holding you tighter against him. "It's not your fault."

"I couldn't...I wasn't...I tried to..." You can't get the words out, can't form a coherent sentence, and your head throbs, the pain blinding. "I couldn't save her."

"You did everything you could," he says. "You didn't fail her. You didn't fail anyone."

You want to believe him, to let his words soothe the ache, but the sorrow is overwhelming, the guilt crushing. And, even as you cry, a part of you feels guilty for showing him this side of you. For letting him see the weakness, the vulnerability. But the truth is, you've been weak for a long time, and he's been there every step of the way.

He's seen your worst, and yet, he's stayed.

"I miss her," you sob, the tears burning hot. "I just..."

"I know," he breathes. His cheek presses against the top of your head, his fingers stroking your hair. "I'm so sorry."

You don't know how long you sit there in the icy cavern, Rex's arms wrapped around you. You cry until there are no tears left, until the sobs turn to hiccups, and the hiccups turn to shuddering breaths. And all the while, Rex is there, his grip never loosening, his voice never wavering.

When the last of the tears have dried, you slump against him. Your body feels heavy, drained, and the lightsaber is a dead weight in your hand, the cold metal leeching what little warmth you have left.

You lift your head, and Rex's gaze meets yours. You're surprised to see his eyes are wet too, his lashes clumped together. His nostrils flare, and he lets out a shaky breath, trying to keep his composure. He gives you a weak smile, and you swallow hard, the words getting stuck in your throat.

"Thank you," you finally manage, and the words come out thick, the tears welling again. "I...I don't know what to say. I didn't expect—"

"Hey," he murmurs as his thumbs wipe away the tears, his touch gentle. "You don't have to say anything. I understand."

You nod, and he pulls you against him, his head resting on top of yours. The two of you fall into another silence, your arms wrapped around each other, the lightsaber clasped tightly in your fist.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps fills the cavern, and you hear the others calling out, their voices echoing around you. Rex pulls away, and he looks over his shoulder, watching as the troopers approach. His body shields you from view, protecting your privacy, and a wave of gratitude washes over you.

"Not yet," he says, his voice stern, and the footsteps stop, hesitating. "We need a few minutes."

"General," Fives calls. "Are you alright?"

"She's fine," Rex answers for you.

"Are you sure? We heard crying."

"She's fine," he repeats, his voice hardening. "Just...give us a minute."

You close your eyes, exhaustion tugging at your limbs, and you rest your head on Rex's shoulder, letting the sounds of his voice soothe you. The others are talking, whispering amongst themselves, but you can't make out the words. You're not sure you want to.

You don't know how long the two of you sit there, but eventually, the voices grow quiet, and you hear the troopers walking away, their footsteps fading into the distance. When they're gone, you open your eyes and stare at the ground, the tears drying on your cheeks.

"You didn't tell them," you say, your voice quiet.

"No," he admits. "I didn't."

"Why?"

"Because," he murmurs. He turns, his hand reaching up, his fingers tilting your chin towards him. Your gazes meet, his eyes soft, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "You deserved a moment alone to grieve. Without the others staring."

You nod, and a weak smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, the tears welling once more. He cares so much, cares more than he should, and it warms your heart despite the cold surrounding you.

"Thank you," you whisper, and the words come out strained, your voice cracking.

"It's the least I can do," he replies. Rex lets go of your chin, his hand falling back to his side. "I wish I could do more."

"You're already doing more than enough," you tell him, and you mean it. If not for him, you would have lost yourself completely. The thought terrifies you, but also warms you. He's saved you, time and time again, without even realizing it. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"You could have," he says, his expression earnest. "But I'm glad you didn't have to."

"Me, too," you murmur.

The two of you stay there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the only sound the faint drip of water. The air is frigid, the chill seeping into your bones, and you shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"Come on," Rex says. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, his hand trailing down your arm and coming to a rest on your elbow. "Let's get out of here."

"Yeah," you agree, and you let him help you to your feet, your legs shaking. You brush the dirt and grime from your clothes, and then look down at the box, your mouth pulling into a grimace.

"I can't believe he kept it," you mutter, placing the lightsaber back inside, the scrap of fabric on top of it. The lid falls shut, a loud thump echoing around the chamber.

"I'm not surprised," Rex replies, his tone laced with bitterness. He shakes his head, a scowl on his face.  "He likes his trophies."

"He's sick," you mutter. The rage is starting to burn inside you again, the pain giving way to anger, a familiar, comforting emotion. "Do you think this was his plan all along? To lure me here?"

"Maybe," he admits, his eyes sweeping the area, his expression hardening. "But that doesn't matter now. What matters is that you have your evidence. You can finally get justice."

"Justice," you repeat. The word tastes like ash in your mouth. You shake your head, your lips pulling into a thin line. "All I want is revenge."

"Revenge won't bring her back," Rex murmurs. His hand rests on your lower back, his warmth seeping through the fabric. "You need to be smarter than that. We can't—"

"I know," you interrupt. "I know we can't."

"If it was up to me..." He trails off, his jaw clenched, his fingers flexing against your spine.

"Yeah," you sigh. You reach out and pick up the box, the weight of it heavy in your arms. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself, and then glance up at him, a wry smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Wishful thinking, right?"

"Wishful thinking," he echoes, and the two of you share a chuckle, the tension in the air easing. 

Rex looks at you, a softness in his gaze, and a strange feeling passes between the two of you, the understanding, the acceptance. This war is not about justice, it's not about peace. It's about survival, and the two of you have to fight tooth and nail just to stay alive. But the fact that he's fighting with you, the fact that he's by your side, means everything.

"Come on," he says, and he gently guides you towards the path, his hand lingering on your back.

You nod, and the two of you begin walking, your footsteps echoing around the chamber. You follow the path, Rex's presence steady at your side, and the darkness recedes, the torchlight growing brighter. You can feel the weight of the box in your arms, the pulse of the kyber crystal, the whisper of her Force signature.

Yaddle.

Your Master. Your family.

Gone.

And the one responsible, just out of reach.

But if you can make the Council listen, maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to bring him to justice.

Or maybe it's just wishful thinking.

taglist: @baddest-batchers @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @aynavaano @floofyroro

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@sensitive-shark @kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently @isaidonyourknees

[slytherinshua]

MISS ME?

genre. fluff. warnings. general uncanny counter stuff. spoilers (obv). pairing. so mun x counter!reader. wc. 983. a/n. requested by anon. this is probably rly shitty cause im questioning my own writing skills everyday atp. but yay im finally writing for uncanny counter!!

You weren’t usually worried about Mun. He was the ace of the team, one of the strongest, smartest, most stable counters you had ever met. He went into every mission determined to catch the evil spirit and he rarely failed.

But usually you were right beside him while he did it. Being there and fighting with him let you make sure he was okay— it allowed you a sense of security knowing that you could protect him if he needed it. But you weren’t on the mission right now and it was starting to really freak you out.

You were prepared to go fight the evil spirit with the rest of the team as soon as Hana had spotted it, but you had sustained serious injuries from the last level 3 evil spirit the day before that even Ms. Chu wasn’t able to completely heal. 

You knew your boyfriend only did it out of worry and care and love for you— making you stay behind on the mission, promising that he and the rest of the team would be okay and back by your side soon, encouraging you to rest up and not worry about him. But how could you possibly do that? He was the only thing on your mind from the second he left.

At first you thought of how he must be having some fun kicking some evil spirit’s ass. He probably looked really good while doing it, too. With his sarcastic comments and little celebrations whenever he did something that looked like it should be out of a superhero movie. He was adorable on and off the battlefield.

But as the hours went on and he still wasn’t back, your thoughts became more worried. What if the evil spirit was actually a level 3? What if Hana had seen wrong? What if he was injured or got separated from the team? There were too many variables in these types of fights. Every day, Mun and the team put their lives at stake to catch another evil spirit, and every success came with struggles. It was rewarding and so so worth it, but the risk was immense.

You could see it just by looking at yourself. How you still felt dizzy and lightheaded if you even stood up too quickly. How your body still ached even after Ms. Chu healing all your big injuries - stitching your body back together from its broken, bruised, and bleeding state. You got worried whenever Mun got so much as a scratch on him. What if he came back seriously injured?

On top of the obvious concerns about his safety the longer the night went on, you realized it had been storming for at least 20 minutes. You hoped the fight was taking place somewhere sheltered. The tracksuits were pretty good at keeping you warm, but amidst a heavy storm in the middle of the night, it wouldn’t be enough.

You felt pitiful, sitting there on your bed wrapped in a blanket when all you could do was wait. Worrying as much as you did for Mun was almost laughable. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. Ever since Cheongsin, he had only improved, and now could use his psychokinesis to its full potential. 

He could beat every single counter on the team in training (except on the occasions were he purposefully let you win). A level 2 shouldn’t be too hard for him, right? Right. You needed to stop worrying so much about your boyfriend. He would come back. He always did.

And it seemed the conclusion to your hours of thinking brought just that. You heard the door to the noodle shop open, the bells jingling and loud sighs echoing through the building. You smiled. From their voices, nobody seemed particularly hurt.

“Unnie’s gang did it again.” Motak could be heard, and you could clearly picture his satisfied grin along with Ms. Chu’s scoff.

“You’re one to celebrate when you almost screwed up the entire mission. So Mun did most of the work.” Hana patted Mun firmly on the back.

“I’ll go check up on Y/n. She’s probably worried about me. Good work, guys.” Mun was quick to dismiss himself from the rest of the group and hurry up the stairs earning teasing comments about how lovesick he was.

“Baby,” He called even before he had opened the door, taking his place right next to you as fast as he could. “Miss me?”

“No, of course not.” You lied, eyes and elated smile giving you away. “You’re all wet.” You mumbled, running a hand through his soaked hair.

“I tried to ask the evil spirit to stop fighting and go to the closest abandoned building, but he didn’t want to.” Mun laughed with a shrug.

“Just a second-” You stood up to grab a towel from the bathroom, holding it over your hands and drying Mun’s hair as if he was a small child.

“I can do it myself, you know?” He complained with his eyes closed.

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Cause you missed me?” 

“Maybe just a little?” 

“I bet you were thinking about me the entire time I was gone.” He insisted.

“So what if I was?” You asked, giving his hair one last pat with the towel and dropping it on the floor.

“Then I would tell you that I love you and probably kiss you?” He whispered, sneaking his arms around your waist and pulling you down on top of his lap smoothly. You flushed, your cheeks turning a bright red. Mun just laughed, cupping one of your cheeks with his hand.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, trying to think of anything other than your boyfriend at the current moment.

“I love you.” As soon as the words flowed out of his mouth, his lips reached yours in a kiss just like he said. 

↳ k-drama taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @wolfmoonmusic

[saerins]

𝖇𝖚𝖎𝖑𝖉-𝖆-𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊: isagi yoichi + @yoichiris <3

+ isagi yoichi x f!reader | wc 1.1k

notes: omg my hand slipped :’) sorry this took a while !! didn’t want to disappoint isagi’s girl <3 hehe hope you like this date + a lil bonus with your man ^_<

isagi’s… stunned, really. he doesn’t actually know what to do.

age seventeen, multiple chances at valentines’, watching most of his friends get gifts or love notes without getting any himself—yet today, 14 february, he sees a little folded-up note on his desk, along with a small heart-shaped box of chocolates.

he’s beginning to think he’s hallucinating. is this for real? part of him thinks it’s a gag.

when he opens the love note, he’s relieved to find out it’s actually addressed to him; i’ll always be cheering you on, isagi-kun :)

what makes him even more relieved is the fact that he realises whose handwriting it is—yours. how can he not, when he’s been admiring you silently from afar, thinking he could never get someone as beautiful, as kind as you are.

does that mean he can ask you out for valentines’? no, the more important question is: how does he ask you out without sounding like a creep for knowing exactly what your handwriting looks like?

shit.

later that day, once classes are over and done with, isagi steels his resolve; he’s seen you getting several confessions yourself, from other guys in your grade, other guys from his own damn soccer team, even. he’s pretty sure he’s the only one you gave anything to, though, so he gets a little bit of a confidence boost from that.

when he finally catches up to you near the bus stop afterwards, he calls out your name, and when you turn around he’s hit with the sudden realisation that god, you’re so pretty he could just melt right here and it’d be worth it.

“yes, isagi-kun?”

through your eyes, he looks kind of a mess, if you’re being honest; his uniform is buttoned wrongly, his hair is sticking out a little at the side, his cheeks are flushed red as though he’s just run a marathon. but he’s still handsome, that determined look in his eyes that he wears during his matches is apparent now, and you wonder what for.

isagi doesn’t know how to do this, he doesn’t know what he should say that would be best, but what he does know is that he wants you. wants to be able to hold you close, to lace his fingers through yours, to be able to dedicate goals to you.

with a shaky voice, he chokes out, “this weekend! y-you wanna go on a date?”

you giggle, and isagi feels even more flustered.

“a date with me,” he clarifies, as though he even needs to. that just makes you giggle more, and isagi already has that sound saved into his brain—it’s his favourite sound now. you’re giving him new favourites just by being alive.

that saturday when he’s actually out with you, he finds himself being even more attracted to you—is that even possible? when you’re telling him about your morning and all he can do is stare at you from across the table, appreciating the slope of your nose, and the way your eyes beam at him, and the curve of your lips. he chastises himself internally for thinking of kissing you already.

you make him feel more selfish; isagi has been fine with watching by the sidelines until now, until he actually gets to know you. he wants to keep your laugh for himself, wants that smile to stay on your face and curse anyone who dares to take it from you. your fingers, he wants to hold them, wants to kiss your palm if you ever place them near his lips.

it’s all he can think about all day—you, what kissing you might feel like, how pretty you are in your casual wear, how he nearly gets a heart attack when you pull him into a photo booth and ask him to take pictures together, sitting as close as you did with him, feeling your bare skin against his; it’s new, it’s electrifying, it scares him (in a fucking good way).

after knowing you, he can’t go back to the way he was. can’t go back to sitting quietly at the side in silent admiration. can’t risk anyone getting to have you, and he wonders if you feel the same about him too.

“thanks for today,” you mutter shyly as he walks you home, your house now just a few feet away.

isagi still hasn’t mustered the courage to hold your hand, but he figures he has time. he doesn’t think this is the last date you’ll have.

“see you on monday, isagi-kun,” you tell him, and he feels like a part of you didn’t want this date to end, but neither did he.

“yoichi,” he corrects you, and you blink at him. “i want you to call me yoichi.”

because he doesn’t want you to call him anything less intimate than that.

you smile and say his name, “yoichi,” and then again he has a new favourite sound—in the way you say his name.

and before this, his favourite sensation was the way the ball leaps off his feet right before he scores a goal—but you’re overwriting everything and now he can’t seem to remember what anything else felt like after he presses his lips on your cheek.

(what he doesn’t know is that it’s the same for you.)

his feelings for you hold the same, even five years into the future and he’s won his first championship game, scoring the winning goal that sealed the deal.

you’re at the bleachers, in the front row, cheering wildly next to your best friend, and isagi spots you without fail. he beams at you from the field, and you know that it’s for you—it’s always for you.

everything isagi is, his goals, his dreams, it’s always shared with you. for someone who didn’t think he’d make a good boyfriend (quoting his own lack of experience), he’s pretty darn perfect.

isagi constantly reminds you that he’s yours and yours alone, no matter how many girls try to shoot their shot. “you’re special to me,” he tells you, cupping your face in his hands, “no one can ever replace you. you’re my girl, okay? my only one.”

he doesn’t want anyone else but you. forever, for life.

“so isagi, what’s it like being the top striker in japan at such a young age?” the reporter asks, and isagi chuckles. now that the game is over, it feels all too surreal.

“fucking awesome, actually,” he answers, earnest.

“what’s next on your list? what’s your next dream, next goal?”

isagi doesn’t hesitate, pointing straight at you with that same determined glint in his eyes you remember from way back then. “i’m gonna marry her.”

[yoonia]

Free Falling (M) | pjm

➬ Title | Free Falling - final instalment from the Falling series (with bonus epilogue)

➬ Summary | People say that you should let life take its course, and to always be ready to open your heart for love. You have learned to allow yourself for the latter, but as always, allowing yourself to open up to every possibilities that life could give you have always been hard for you to do. Your first instinct has always been about hiding your desire, to protect yourself from hurt, but is it worth it to risk it all by keeping it as a secret from the one you love the most?  

↳ Pairings | Park Jimin x reader

↳ Genre | Singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, ex-assistant!reader, Established relationship!au, Smut, Angst

↳ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; talks about pregnancy, a mild hint of pregnancy scare, mentions of birth control, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, explicit smut scenes, including: Jimin’s obsession for boobs, soft dom!Jimin, multiple smut scenes, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, studio/office sex, breast play, nipple play (involves sucking, biting, pinching), hand job, thigh riding, dry humping, riding, grinding, clothed sex, light spanking, pussy slapping, fingering (female receiving), oral sex (female receiving), clit play, hair pulling, manhandling, rough sex, ass biting, dirty talk, swearing, light restraint/bondage, pain kink, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, implied creampie, impregnation/breeding kink…and just like always, a sappy ending.  

↳ Word count | 22k words (whoops…I did it again!)  

↳ Story Masterlist: Falling trilogy

↳ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Commissions

↳ Cross post | AO3 | Inkitt | Wattpad (links coming soon!)

↳ Music companion | Lately - Jonisa

➬ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @opaljm​ | I’m so sorry that this one took forever, but I do hope that you’ll enjoy this story and I hope this would be a nice belated birthday gift for you to read. I’ve been working on this story for a long time, since I did plan this one to be posted as Jimin’s birthday fic, so I feel somewhat bonded with these characters. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for throwing me these ideas with this Jimin. Even if it took me a while to finish, I did enjoy writing this story for you and it really felt good to give this closure to this couple. Have fun reading! (Ps. I hope the epilogue at the end would be enough to make up for the long wait)

“It’s probably nothing.”

If you had any intention of reassuring anyone with those words, it would be painfully obvious that your effort is completely fruitless. You could hear how empty those words had sounded, with not a stir of hope materialising within you as you voiced them out loud. Even as you keep repeating the same words inside your head in the silence that soon follows, you still cannot tell exactly who you were directing those words to.

Keeping your eyes on the bathroom counter, you can feel Jimin hovering close by. There is no doubt that his curiosity is much stronger than what he is letting on, though there is no doubt that he is just as nervous about this as you are when he chooses to remain in the doorway rather than stepping inside to be by your side. It feels odd to be facing this on your own, though you welcome his distant support when you are not quite sure what you are feeling right now yourself.

“Still, we need to make sure, don’t you think?” Jimin questions you, suddenly sounding much closer this time. You can feel his presence filling the room before his hands reach out to touch you, resting on your shoulders to let you know that he is there with you.

Calmness washes over you at his touch. You breathe a sigh of relief and place your hand on top of his to gain more strength from his warmth. And yet you still cannot find it in you to look away. There is an unexplainable fear that makes you believe that once you blink, then the white strip on top of the counter would either disappear or change shape. You simply cannot let that happen. Not when you need some answers.

How long has it been?

How long were we supposed to wait?

As the questions keep running through your mind, suddenly everything else feels obscured. Seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like hours, and time becomes nothing more but an illusion as it seems to drag on as you wait.

Taking a deep breath while clutching tighter on Jimin’s hand, you try to hold your composure and remain patient. Truth be told, you absolutely have no idea what you are expecting to see, yet you also didn’t expect to feel this tense over something like this either. You wonder if perhaps everything that had happened leading up to this point may have added to your agitation and doubt. It seems to have somehow drawn you to start second guessing yourself and everything that you believed to be true.

With your eyes on the white strip, you recall the conversation that you shared with Jimin early this morning. Starting from the comment that you had made so nonchalantly when you had just woken up, followed by the talk which had led him sending his poor housemaid out to buy an entire bag of pregnancy tests while you slipped into the shower.

“Is that normal?” was the question that he gave you, catching you by surprise. You had not seen him in the room when you first woke up, and for some reason, he had to choose that moment to come back, just in time to hear you murmuring to yourself about the late arrival of your monthly period.

It never even crossed your mind before. Not until the moment you opened the calendar application on your phone to check today’s schedule and realised how long ago your last period had been.

“You’re still home? Aren’t you supposed to be at the gym already? And why are you spying on me?”

It hadn’t been your intention to avoid answering his question. You barely had time to process your own thoughts when he came into the bedroom wearing his workout clothes, as he would usually be out on his morning workout routine by the time you would be awakened from your slumber. Jimin looked awfully worried when he gently took your phone away from you, stopping you from changing the conversation again when he repeated the question.

“It’s nothing, I’m sure. My period does come regularly most of the time, but that’s not always been the case. I’m only a couple of weeks late. I’ve been busy lately, and it could happen because my stress level is high without me realising it or because I’ve been skipping meals when I’m working. It’s natural to happen, so I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” you had tried your best to convince him with various excuses despite his worries, before escaping his attention by rushing into the shower, hoping that he would let it go once you were done. Though it was already far too late by then, as he had already made up his mind to do something about it.

Hence the pregnancy test, which he handed to you right the moment you stepped out of the shower, followed by a long process of you taking the said test—two sets of them—and waiting anxiously for the results together as Jimin chose to skip going to the gym altogether. You may not have had the slightest hint of curiosity or concern before, but it is quite clear that his reaction and the tension that you can feel rolling out of him are beginning to affect you, and you are beginning to feel just as anxious as he is.

“I’m telling you, it’s probably nothing,” you try telling him again, though your words no longer hold the same conviction as they had earlier when you are purposely aiming for them to calm yourself down. “My period also came irregularly quite often when I first started working with you, back when I was working crazy hours and was stressing out over adjusting to living in the city, so I’m sure it’s probably the same thing. You know that I’ve been—”

Jimin’s hold on your shoulders tightens just then, and you watch with bated breath as the line begins to show on the strip. Then it stops before another ever comes up to join the first one.

“Negative,” the word comes out of you with a relieved sigh, as all the worries and tension are lifted from you. Though contrary to what you are feeling, your own voice somehow sounds a bit distant and unrecognisable even to yourself.

But you can easily recognise the unmistakable sound of a deep exhale of sigh coming from behind you as Jimin slowly relaxes. “Well, I guess you’re right. That’s what, the second test that shows negative?”

You turn to him then with a teasing smile. “Told you so. Should’ve listened to me when I told you not to worry about it so much. I’ve been busy with work, that’s all. And things are getting a bit stressful since it’s entering the end of the year,” you tell him with a shrug, already playing it off as if it’s not a big deal, hoping to change the mood.

The look that he is giving you, however, says differently.

His eyes convey something that is quite unreadable, a bit of an odd mix of concern, relief, and sombreness. The latter one gives a tight pinch in your chest, and it is the kind of emotion that you really hate seeing from him. And you don’t like not knowing where it is coming from.

Wanting to erase the troubled look on his face, you place your palms on his cheeks, pulling his attention back to you until he is looking at you straight in the eyes so you can reassure him, “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll call my physician to have my health checked up to make sure that everything’s okay. And that I’m absolutely fine.”

Your words bring a bit of light back to his eyes when he smiles. “There’s no need if you don’t want to,” he says, before leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Are you going to be super busy again today? Can’t you take it easy until we’re sure you’re really okay?” he begins asking you, though almost distractedly, as his eyes have begun roaming down your body that is still clad in the silky robe that you put on after stepping out of the shower while his hands are beginning to slide down your waist.

“Ah, I only have a lunch meeting with the people from the foundation. And then I’m seeing Hyorin, the actress that Yerin has been working with lately. She had asked to see me after I’m done with the meeting for some advice, but I don’t think it’ll be too long. I might be able to come back right before dinner,” you answer him, recalling the short list of appointments that you have for today with more effort than you should have, and with your voice slowly fading out with the distraction that Jimin is giving to you.

Because just when you start answering him, Jimin moves to raise his hand up from your waist and starts trailing a finger over your breasts. Starting with his teasing touch, he gently runs the tip of his finger over your cleavage, finding the skin that has been exposed from where the top of your robe is parted.

Noticing the change in the tone of your voice and seeing how you are slowly growing breathless with anticipation, he starts becoming more brazen with his touches. Your voice fades to a gasp as he traces a finger down one breast, following the silky lining of your robe until he finds your covered nipple before trailing back up again to the other side, his finger never losing contact with your breast the entire time, even as your breathing starts to grow heavier.

“Good. I won’t have to part with you for too long, then,” you faintly hear him say as his finger lingers a bit too long over the tip of your breast, rubbing at the hardening peak from over your thin robe.  

“What are you up to?” you question him when his touch seems deliberate, and when he seems pleased the moment the subtle tremble of your chest becomes more obvious as he continues.

Seeing your reaction, Jimin’s lips rise to a smile. “Nothing much,” he whispers heavily, as if he is just as affected by his own touches the way you do. “I was just thinking—” he says as he pulls his hand away, “—since we got the test out of the way, it means we have no problem, right? Nothing to worry about. Although—I’d like to think that it only means that we have been given some more time to enjoy ourselves, maybe have some practice since we still have a long way to go before we would have to worry about something like this again.”

Before your mind clears out of the fog that he had created and you have the chance to question what he is trying to say, Jimin reaches out to clean out the bathroom counter with one swipe of his hand. He tosses the used test strips and their empty packages into the trash and wipes the cold surface clean with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before his hands find your waist.

“Jimin, what are you—oh!” you let out a gasp when he swiftly lifts you up and sets you up on the counter, your bathrobe barely covering your skin from the cold surface as the hem merely ends right under your buttocks.

As if he knows where the rush of chill surging through your body is coming from, Jimin brings his hands down to your exposed thighs. The gentle touch of his palms on your skin gives you the warmth that you need, but he gives you no chance to embrace it when he leans in, taking your attention from his hands with a kiss.

As always, Jimin manages to calm your rapid thoughts even with nothing more but the slightest touch of his lips on yours. While his hands continue roaming down your body, grazing the under curves of your breasts through your thin robe, then tracing and feeling your torso as his touch makes its way down to your waist. He steals your voice with his kiss, his lips moulding perfectly with yours. Even as the kiss grows with fervour, his lips still feel as soft as the clouds, enough to cool down the heat that he lights up within you with his gentle fingers.

Just as his hands grow more daring, he begins deepening the kiss further. The sensation he is giving to you makes your body grow hotter and you lean into him further, your body moving to chase his touch while you return his kiss, moaning softly as his tongue comes licking out, pressing its way into your mouth. Your mind begins swirling while he keeps devouring your lips. His hands move lower, finding the silky ties that are holding your robe together and tugging them loose until the front of your robe falls open, exposing your bareness to him. The sudden chill that touches your skin draws a gasp out of you that you pull away from him, yet Jimin doesn’t mind it, as he already has his attention somewhere else.

He smiles when you slowly open your eyes. His lips are wet and swollen from the kiss, and you lick your own lips seeing this, still feeling the touch of his lips lingering on yours. Just as you are about to pull him back for another kiss, his hands slip under your robe, opening it further apart, before he easily moves his palms to cup the soft mounds of your breasts. As you arch your chest into his touch, he gently brushes his thumbs across your nipples, moving against them in slow up-and-down strokes, then in circles, repeating the same patterns until they grow hard against his sinful touches while you begin to experience all the delicate shivers flowing through your body.

“Beautiful,” he muses with a hum as he keeps tweaking your nipple. A soft cry escapes your lips, yet his gaze remains on your breasts. He has been drawn completely to the rise and fall of your chest and the way your soft skin grows tighter the more he continues to work on your body. There is a deep, hungry glaze in his eyes as he takes his time playing with your hardened nub, as he continues to tweak, pinch, and pull, stretching and releasing it while you keep arching your chest into his touch.

He gives another tweak when your gasp comes out louder, and only then does he stop. His eyes find yours, before he gives you a smile that is filled more with mirth than warmth. “Sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?” he asks you, though he doesn’t wait for an answer when he soon adds, “Let me heal you, baby. Perhaps you’ll feel better with a kiss.”

Jimin puts a hand on your back, holding you steady and keeping you from falling backwards while he leans forward, his mouth closing onto the nipple that he has been playing with. He starts lightly sucking on it, using his lips to rub across the area where his fingers had been, then his tongue joins in to give a couple of licks, moving slowly across and rolling around the nub as if he is trying to lick a wound. The rush that you feel in your body from his treatment is completely indescribable. It feels so good, electrifying, and so decadent that you lose complete control of your body as it reacts to the sensation that he is giving you.

Your head falls back with a moan when he suddenly switches to the other breast. He does the same thing with his mouth and tongue, taking his sweet time with it and never stopping until it grows just as hard as the other. You feel his other hand crawling up, cupping the neglected mound with his palm before his fingers begin playing with its throbbing peak. Both your nipples have grown wet and hard, and your breasts feel as if they have become swollen and tight at the same time. The feeling he is giving you is exhilarating and you don’t want him to stop. But the moment you feel his hips pushing forward, nudging at your knees to silently request for you to spread them open for him, you know that he is not done yet.

Even in your high, you still know what to do to give him what he wants. Scooting a few inches forward on the counter, you part your legs for him, allowing him to slide between your thighs. Your trembling hands come up to his chest in your search for contact. Your eyes fall open when instead of finding his warm skin, your fingers are met with his sweatshirt.

“Off—” is the only thing that you can say to him, though your fingers are adequate to help make it clear as you begin pulling the front of his shirt.

With a chuckle, Jimin releases you and pulls back just long enough to pull his shirt up and over his head. In a blink of an eye, the shirt is gone, tossed away to the floor and he returns to you with his chest bare and warm enough to touch. His lips, all wet and swollen after devouring your breasts, are lifted to a sly smirk. “There. Happy?”

Biting your lips, you keep your gaze on his face while you reach out to him, grabbing onto the waistband of his sweatpants to give it a pull. “Not quite yet.”

You give the strings holding them up on his waist a strong tug and let go, and the pants simply fall to the ground, pooling around his feet. Jimin steps out of it and kicks it away, not wasting any more time as he also rips his briefs off before returning to his position between your parted legs. He moves so swiftly, yet it is the sight of his erection pointing straight at you which pulls every possible reaction that he could get.

Heat rises all over your body, starting from your face and all the way down between your legs. You have begun fighting a losing battle to compose yourself, to stop yourself from reaching out to touch him when he settles against your center. His cock is now standing between you and only barely touching, while his hands come to your thighs, rubbing gently in small circles that feel maddening and calming at the same time.

"So what was it again that you said…something about having some extra time to practice?” you question him, no longer able to hold back when your hand comes down, finding his length. His cock feels firm and hard against your palm, and you can feel its pulse when you wrap your hand around its girth.

Jimin looks down and exhales a soft sigh as you begin to stroke the length of his cock. It begins with a gentle stroke, moving up and down slowly until you can feel the first shudder running through his body. “What’s the rush? We have enough time, don’t we? We can take it slow,” Jimin calmly says, acting as if he is completely unaffected when you can clearly see him doing his best to keep it together and slowly failing, judging from the way his fingers are pressing a bit harder into your skin.

“I’m not the one who has a morning schedule today,” you tease him with a scoff, reminding him that he is the one who has been skipping his responsibilities while dealing with the pregnancy tests. Jimin merely chuckles, yet you can feel his hand moving slowly towards your center, and your heartbeat begins to race when he comes closer towards where the pulses are rising between your legs. And he keeps moving closer, until the tips of his fingers come brushing gently against your folds, making you jump at his touch before you quickly relax.

“I guess we can make an exception this morning,” he whispers, his voice sounding a bit rough when he finds you growing wet under his touch. He reaches down and wraps his hand over yours, guiding you to help align the head of his cock onto your slit. Gently, he slips his cock between your cleft and begins to stroke the tip up and down your slit. The sounds of your slickness can be heard the more he moves, as he gathers more and more of your arousal to coat his veiny girth and help him move more fluidly between your hot folds.

You look down, seeing for yourself the way his cock is rubbing against you, and how both his skin and yours look wet, glistening under the dim lighting. You let go just as he begins to push forward, your hands rise up to his shoulders to hold on when you can feel the head of his cock pushing its way into you, slowly stretching you apart to let him in. The delightful pressure that you feel when he slides into you has you tightening your hold on him, your nails sinking into his skin as you revel in the soft trembles of your tight walls welcoming him in.

Jimin slowly sinks into you, doing it with small increments, as he pushes into you an inch before he pulls back, and then comes back in to push deeper. He keeps repeating it again and again, making his way in between your pulsing walls. The sensation that he brings to your body makes your head swirl a bit more intensely than before. All you can do is lean back and take it, relying on the firm press of his hand on the small of your back that is keeping you from falling backwards. Feeling him getting deeper and deeper, your mouth falls open with small noises coming out of your lips every time he pushes a bit harder. Just as the first moan escapes your lips, coming out a bit louder when he suddenly gives a firm thrust, he leans in, capturing your lips with a soft kiss to drown your voice while he takes a short break. He basks in this moment, relishing the warm snug that your walls are giving around him, while the pulses rising from your core seem to match the one coming out of his hard shaft.

The kiss lingers as he deepens it, moulding your lips together until you melt into him further. His hands move down to your thighs, subtly rising them up until you have your legs wrapped around his waist, giving him the perfect angle to start moving more easily. He pulls back just then, giving you a sweet smile before whispering, “Hold on tight, baby.”

With a light tug on your waist, Jimin pulls you towards him and somehow finds it possible to sink just a little bit further into you. The push that he gives draws a sharp cry out of you, though it sounds nothing like a cry of pain, only pleasure. It gives the right kind of push for Jimin to start moving, driving in and out of you steadily, igniting sparks of pleasure through your body with each thrust.

Soon enough, you start moving together with him, pushing to meet each and every one of his thrusts, encouraging him to do more and to start moving faster. His pace increases, and he just keeps on thrusting into you without fail. Lost in his own pleasure, his legs begin to quiver beneath him. His body almost comes bouncing off you each time you are joined, though he never fails to thrust back in again, and again, hitting all the right spots inside you that you almost never want it to end.

Keeping one arm around your waist to hold you in place, his other hand moves to touch your body. As if he cannot spend another minute not touching you. His palm finds your breast, fondling the mound lovingly the way he always would. He enjoys feeling the weight against his palm, and to feel your skin growing hot under his touch. Your body shudders when his fingers find your sensitive bud and start playing with it, and you simply let him. His touch feels so wonderful that it makes you arch more into his hand, and it adds to the amazing sensation that you are feeling from his lovemaking.

The pleasure within you continues to rise, and his speed picks up further. The tremble that comes with his moan gives away how close he is to his orgasm, and you clench around him right when you feel your own climax starting to form itself.

“More, Jimin. I’m close,” you whisper breathlessly as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as you take in every thrust, every pounding, and every pulse that he ignites within you until your muscles start to coil with your release.

Just as the first wave of your orgasm washes over you, your mind flies back to a moment passed merely minutes ago. Jimin’s face, the look that he wore after seeing the test result earlier, comes flashing in your mind, replacing the blissful and content look that you are seeing through your bleary eyes as he comes close to his release. Meanwhile, the emotions that you hadn’t completely understood when they first came to you are suddenly becoming clearer just as the waves of pleasure are growing stronger inside you.

As he embraces his climax, Jimin gives you one final thrust, pushing you towards your own. The sensation becomes too much, and there is nothing that you could do but let yourself fall into it, allowing the waves of pleasure to take over you.

But right in your plunge into heavenly bliss, there is an unsettling realisation that comes together with it, pushing through from the back of your mind. It sucks the air out of your chest in your cry of pleasure when you realise that beyond the lingering feeling of contentment and relief that you both shared upon seeing the test result, those emotions had been accompanied by something else. Something that felt more like shattered hope.

Despite having a strong faith that today would be an easy day for you, it didn’t take long before things turned completely the other way around.

The foundation that Mrs. Min built with your assistance has prospered well over the past year. The team that manages the foundation’s programs and its main timetable have grown exponentially, leading to its current success. You have been there to actively participate in helping to form the team from day one, leading them while you were working side by side with Mrs. Min in arranging all the charity works done under the foundation’s name. You have also been there to witness their wonderful growth and take pride in contributing your role in the achievements that the foundation has accomplished so far, even if you enjoy remaining in the background instead of stepping into the spotlight where Mrs. Min has been standing so proudly in from the start.

And yet, even when things have looked so promising for the people behind the foundation, as they seem to have gained a good rapport with the public and from the entertainment companies that they are closely acquainted with, it doesn't necessarily mean that everything has been running smoothly in the background.

The lunch meeting that you attended today had ended an hour ago, and yet you are still here, sitting in the guest lounge at the same hotel where the meeting was held. There is no denying that you feel completely drained, just from going through that meeting alone. All the pleasant feelings that you have acquired in the morning have long faded, replaced with exhaustion and stress.

Though the intensity of the meeting hadn’t truly happened without a reason.

There are still a few weeks to go before the holiday season, but the end of year charity events are already looming in the corner. With so many ideas being sent in by all the rich clients that Mrs. Min has been working with and from the volunteers who have been helping the foundation so far, with the additional change of having new people being added into the team, the lunch meeting had dragged on more than you had initially planned.

Thankfully, Mrs Min had been present to mediate the meeting. Her wise words had ended all the lengthy arguments that almost occurred between the team members who are more adept in the cause that the foundation has been organising so far and the new members who came in with fresh, yet extravagant ideas. Her role in the meeting was something that you were grateful for the most, since you weren’t able to do your role in the meeting as well as you would have wanted to when you couldn’t seem to fully focus and put your mind into it.

It was hard to be completely present in the meeting when your mind kept flying back to this morning, reminding you of the emotional turmoil that you had to deal with before the day even started. It didn’t matter how hard you had tried to ignore it, when moments from this morning kept on coming back when least expected, stealing your attention away from the present.

You could barely hide the sigh of relief when the meeting was over and you were able to step away from it, to finally be freed and have the chance to clear your head. Though your headache only got worse when your employer pulled you to the side before departing, giving you her signature coy smile when she whispered, “Just do your usual magic. I trust that everything will run smoothly under your capable hands,” hinting that she was placing all responsibilities on your shoulders once her job in keeping peace was done.

Guess I was right about the high level of stress messing up with my hormones, after all, you had wondered when the pounding in your head made you wish that you could curl up in a ball in the safety of your bed instead of being there, standing right in the eye of the incoming storm.

After everyone had left, you realised that you probably wouldn’t have made it to your next appointment if you have to travel across the city for it. Thankfully, the actress that you were supposed to meet up with had offered to come and see you instead of meeting you at the public restaurant that you had originally booked for this private meeting.

The option to stay and find a more secluded place to meet up, far from the public’s attention—as requested by this potential client of yours—seemed to be working in your favour, after all, once you realised that the space that you have chosen has been quite peaceful enough and far from the crowd. You also soon found that this spot had allowed you to have a moment to think and find some time to relax. Although, the downtime that you managed to get didn’t last long, when you couldn’t stop yourself from opening up your tablet again and trying to find something to do to waste time. That was how you ended up making yourself busy again, finishing up some work while you were waiting for your next appointment to arrive instead of using the time to take a much-needed break.

Between drafting emails related to your side gigs and texting Jimin’s new assistant, the past hour has occupied your mind enough to slowly help you forget about the previous lunch meeting and all the other troubling thoughts. Though it soon brings your mind back to another matter that you have tried to ignore the whole day.

While you have been busy with your own business, Jimin is back at his recording company to deal with his. And just like how it has been for the past month, his newest assistant, Minji, keeps you in the loop through texts and phone calls whenever you are not there with him in person. Sometimes she would only be sending you news and updates, things that are being said in meetings or any progress that Jimin is having at work. Other times, she would send you frantic texts as she encounters serious problems that would need to be dealt with immediately and which, more often than not, would usually require your assistance. This is apparently something that is still pretty common to happen when it comes to Jimin, no matter how much time has passed since Jimin turned his act around.

You don’t really mind getting involved in his business or having his assistants contact you for advice like this, since you have never truly stopped being involved in his work despite the agreement that you made with him.

Jimin may have grown way more bearable compared to how he used to be in the past, but it hadn’t stopped the constant rotation of personal assistants coming and going to work by his side. This had been going on for a while, all while you stood by, watching all of this happening until you were left with no other choice but to offer a helping hand. And he was once again feeling cornered, having no other choice but to give in when he realised that he needed your help.

Using your past experience as his personal assistant, you took the responsibility of finding him the right assistant and training them before they started working alongside your fiancé. It took a few trials and errors with different candidates of your choosing, with a couple of cases where Jimin practically ran them off until you finally found the right person to do the job. And that was how you found Minji nearly four months ago, and she still holds the record of working with Jimin the longest so far compared to her predecessors. While you may have been able to take some credit in making it happen, you still view her as a blessing from heaven for having the perseverance to work with Jimin, and at the same time, with you. Though you cannot help being reminded of yourself in the past whenever you see her.

Your success in pairing Jimin with his new skilful assistant didn’t go unnoticed by the people around you. It had opened up new chances, becoming a side gig for you to focus on aside from the foundation, and it had become one of the reasons behind the arrangement for this next meet-up you are having today.

It started with Jimin, and then Hoseok became your next client when you assisted him in choosing a personal assistant that he had always needed. And then, as the news spread, more and more requests started coming from other artists working under the same company as theirs. Before you knew it, it eventually grew to become one of your side gigs, as you began to work alongside and under the guidance of the recording company to help and connect their artists with the right personal assistants when their agents couldn’t do much to help.

Since then, this part of your work has slowly branched out, and you are beginning to take on other roles. From acting as a publicist yourself or a freelance agent for those who have no direct connection to one whenever needed, or a consultant for new assistants who needed guidance. But while today’s appointment is just another part of this side gig, it would be a new challenge for you to handle. And it should’ve been your main priority today as your main task of the day is done, but it is hard to put your mind into it when your mind continues to be occupied by something else entirely.

Minji: I’m not sure what’s going on, but he hasn’t been able to focus today

Minji: did something happen? He keeps spacing out. We’re in the studio with his producers to talk about the next recording schedule but he’s not paying much attention

Minji: don’t worry, I’m taking notes. I’ll email them to you once we’re done here

Minji: I’m sorry for bothering you so much, but the producers look a bit lost with how Jimin is acting

You put aside your tablet with a sigh as you read through a series of texts coming from Minji. These texts may not sound as frantic as they normally would when Jimin stresses her out, but it still makes you feel a bit tense and worried. You type a quick text to respond, hoping that you can help calm her down.

You: I’m not sure, but he’s probably just tired. We had a long morning today

Your face flushes with heat when you recall the heated moment you shared with him in the bathroom this morning, though you quickly shake it off before it starts to occupy your mind any further.

You: that’s a good idea. Send me all the details through email. I’ll go through everything and work things out with him tonight once he’s gotten enough rest

You put the phone away once you are done texting and close your eyes. But you quickly regret doing so. Because instead of finding calmness, everything that had become the reason why you have been so out of it the whole day returns to fill your thoughts.

Your skin no longer flushes with warmth and bashfulness as your mind flies back to this morning, when you start remembering all that happened then and Jimin’s face returns to your thoughts again. You never got the chance to figure out what was going on through his head or where the expression that you saw on him had come from, and you never got the chance to figure out what it was that had your heart sinking into your stomach once reality finally sunk in.  

Right after both of you had come down from the blissful high of your morning quickie, Jimin didn’t wait until every shiver and all the spasms of your climax started ebbing away before he carried you into the shower. Claiming that he wanted to take the responsibility of making you dirty again, he started helping you bathe, though the good intention that he claimed to have was quick to turn into something naughty the moment his hands returned to your body, and what happened next ended up taking your mind away from every thought and doubt you had.

All doubts and unanswered questions were left forgotten once bliss took over, and Jimin had done an awfully good job in taking your mind away from them with his expert hands, as he took good care of you while stealing your breath away at the same time. But it certainly didn’t mean that the thoughts simply vanished. They were merely pushed to the back of your mind, lingering silently and making you feel restless the entire day without you realising the real reason why until moments like this one comes—a moment where there is nothing accompanying you but silence, allowing your wayward thoughts to grow louder.

Acknowledging this, it only makes you wonder if Jimin is having the same problem, that whatever it was that had crossed his mind this morning and was hidden from you has been bothering him the whole day.

But what did go through his mind this morning, you cannot help but wonder. Had the thought of us having a baby so soon really bothered him so much that it’s still troubling him even now? And why is it making me so restless?

Deep in your own thoughts, you almost fail to notice a new presence arriving at your hidden corner. You nearly jump out of your seat when a gentle voice breaks you out of your stupor.

“Hello, I’m sorry for making you wait for so long.”

You turn at the voice, only to immediately rise from your seat when you realise that your guest has arrived. It seems that she had been rushing on her way here, but her composure remains intact when she speaks.

Wearing a simple dress and a short winter jacket on top, Hyorin still looks as charming as you have always remembered her. The older actress had been absent from the scene for the past couple of years due to her marriage and then later, the birth of her daughter only six months ago, so it was quite a surprise when she suddenly contacted you through her assistant, Yerin, who is also a close friend of yours from the business, and requested for a meet-up.

“Hello, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you coming,” you simply say to her, welcoming her with a smile. You are about to offer her to take the seat in front of you when you realise that she has not arrived here on her own. Your eyes fall on the baby stroller that she is pushing with her, and your heart jumps for a brief moment once you get a clear sight of the adorable baby lying half-asleep inside.

Looking at her makes you stop, until you recall the conversation that you had with Yerin about this meet-up and remember the request that Hyorin has made through your friend, and realise that you probably shouldn’t be too surprised to have the baby involved in today’s meeting.

You just weren’t expecting to meet her baby this soon.

“I didn’t know that you were bringing your daughter. I would’ve picked another place that would have been more comfortable for the three of us if I had known.”

Hyorin smiles and merely waves it off. “Oh, don’t worry about it. This place is quite perfect. The restaurant would have been a bit too crowded and uncomfortable for her, but she would be able to adjust better as long as the place is quiet and there are not many people going around,” Hyorin says as she takes a quick look around. To your relief, she really does seem genuinely happy with the meeting spot that you have chosen. The lounge itself serves the privacy that you would need to have this conversation, while the spot you have chosen is slightly hidden even from the hallway outside of the area where people would be roaming around, offering not only the privacy needed, but also the perfect solitude for the baby to rest without any worries.

By the time Hyorin turns her attention back to you, she is pleasantly surprised to see you still entranced at the sight of her baby girl. She must have read your expression as something that is quite a kin to a shock, because she quickly apologises and explains, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t exactly planning to take her out with me today, but the babysitter called in sick at the last minute and she’s still too little to be handed to other people I don’t trust. I hope it’s okay she’s joining us today. I know that this isn’t what we had planned.”

Surely, that was not the original plan, but you refuse to let it deter you. So you simply wave your hand at her to brush it off. “It’s fine. She is the main star, after all. Isn’t she the reason why you wanted to see me today?”

The actress looks visibly relieved hearing this. She no longer appears so concerned or tense by the time she takes the seat that you offer. Sitting right across from you, Hyorin positions the stroller next to her, with the baby facing your way. The sweet baby steals your attention for a brief moment before the actress begins to talk about the reason why she is meeting you here. “I suppose that Yerin had told you everything that I needed.”

Nodding, you recall the phone call that you received from your friend before the actress finally made contact with you herself. The actress had only given birth to her baby daughter one month before recruiting Yerin to be her personal assistant. Even before that happened, she has always been keeping everything happening in her life ever since she got married completely private. She even barely showed up in public with her husband unless she was needed to be by his side, and she had completely stepped out of the spotlight before anyone even knew that she was pregnant.

Until the news of her baby being born was leaked to the public.

It was surprising for both Yerin and her publicist when she finally agreed to go public with her baby, though she only wanted it to happen under the condition that the announcement and the reveal will be done on her accord. That was when Yerin recommended you to get involved, with the agreement from the actress’ publicist who had known about your past work with Jimin.

“She has. Although, I’m not sure why you are choosing me to work this out with you. You could’ve had Yerin handle everything for you. Not only because she’s your personal assistant, but also because from the years I’ve known and worked with her, I know that Yerin is capable enough to handle this job.”

Hyorin shakes her head gently. “I’ve talked to Yerin about it, but she told me that if there’s anyone who can manage to arrange this as quickly and swiftly as possible then it would be you. I need someone who can make sure that not a single word gets out and nothing crucial gets leaked into the public until it’s time for it to come out, and while Yerin told me that she would be able to do it, she wasn’t sure if she could handle it if any leak still happens,” she firmly says, and admittedly, you understand where she is coming from.

You have seen it happening before, where an inside source becomes the reason that rumours or private information about any celebrity or public figure were able to get out and reach the media. The same thing happened to Jimin once, and you were quick to handle things and let the rumours die down with his publicist’s help. Knowing the fact that Hyorin had fired and changed her assistant and a few members of her team immediately after the news of her childbirth came out, you can only speculate that the rumours had been leaked by someone from her inner circle. And for that reason, you cannot really blame her for being more careful this time.

“Yerin convinced me that you’re the best when it comes to handling matters involving public relations and the media. I value Yerin’s opinion, which is why I took her advice and contacted you directly for help. My publicist has been a good help, but even she had given approval on Yerin’s recommendation, which made me believe that I can truly count on you.”

Hearing this, you slowly lean back in your seat. There is a sense of pride that you feel from hearing such affirmation coming from someone like her, but you cannot deny that there is also an underlying concern for taking such a huge responsibility. As you take your time pondering this, you recall all the years you have spent handling Jimin’s PR cases. The moment that you begin to realise that you know exactly what to do, learning from your past experience, you begin to have more faith in yourself, believing that you can take this challenge as long as you do all the right things and have all the right people to work with.

“I won’t say that I’m the best in the field. I’m just lucky enough to have learned the tricks,” you finally tell her once you have your mind made up, and Hyorin looks a bit more relieved to hear it. Your gaze falls on the little girl in the stroller who is making a soft fussy noise, indicating that she is slowly waking up. Seeing her move about, there is something blooming in your chest.

Looking at the baby girl, you are surprised to find how you are getting so enamoured by her presence. It feels like you are completely drawn to her, so much so that you want to reach out and touch her to know if she is real. Snapping out of it, you turn to the mother, sharing your concern, something that comes across your mind all so suddenly. It puts a heavy weight in your chest for thinking how this poor girl would be exposed to the spotlight so soon in life. “Are you sure you want to go public with your baby daughter? Her photo will be out there for the world to see once you do this.”

Hyorin looks over to her child with a worried smile. It seems like she understands what you are trying to ask of her. Perhaps she also shares the same concern, which is evident from the way she leans to her baby daughter and carefully starts tucking the blankets around her tiny little body as if she wants to protect her from the world. The gentle moment you are witnessing only escalates the tightness in your chest. The heavy weight now feels warm, though you are also beginning to feel something else brewing inside, something that you cannot put into simple words.

“A lot of people from the media have been hounding me to give them the rights to publish her photos. I even got paparazzi stalking me to steal a chance to take her pictures when I’m out of the house and have her with me,” she says, sighing softly in defeat before turning to you again. “I’ve talked about this with my husband, and we both decided that if we want to go public with her, then it has to be on my term. Since I’m going to start taking new offers again maybe after next year—or once she’s old enough to be handled by a sitter, at least—I would be appearing in public more often soon. That’s why I figured it would be the right time to do this. She might draw more attention once I’m back to work again, so I’d rather let it happen now than later when I can’t be sure that she will be safe. Besides, isn’t it common for people to lose interest once their curiosity is answered?”

“I really like that idea,” you tell her after thinking deeply about what she said. You do remember seeing random rumours fading into the shadows once the public’s curiosity is answered, and there is some faith inside you—although small—to believe that this would work. “And I was also informed that you’ve chosen the photographer to take her pictures?”

Hyorin looks pleased. “Yes, he’s the one who has been taking my photos since I first debuted. I’ve chosen the person to do the interview as well. I just need your help to contact them and arrange everything while keeping it under wraps. Yerin reassured me that you are the one who I can trust to make this all possible since you know how to work without gaining too much attention.”

“That would only be one of my expertise, if you can say that,” you respond to her with pure confidence. It does seem like all the years of practice with Jimin and sneaking around the media’s eyes would finally pay off. “I’ll see what I can do for you,” you begin to reaffirm her, before quickly stopping yourself. “No, let me rephrase that. I’ll make it happen. Don’t you worry.”

Hearing your promise, Hyorin releases a deep sigh of relief and begins to thank you for taking this job to help her. Meanwhile, seeing the positive reaction she is giving you makes you feel even more excited to start working immediately. You open your tablet and dive straight into action, starting from gaining more information on the team that she already has. “I would like to also talk to your publicist about the plans and arrange a schedule. It would be best if I have someone from your team that I can work alongside with and help guide me through your schedules.”

Soon, the conversation shifts into more than simple business talk. Accompanied by the warm tea and some snacks that you had ordered from the staff, the two of you begin working on the necessary planning, while you gather more information and contact from the people in her team that you consider would be beneficial and helpful for the entire publicity work.

Unlike what you felt earlier from the meeting with the foundation, you find yourself back in your element. It feels like you are diving back into familiar territory and you feel like a fish returning into the flowing water, roaming free without any worry because you know where to go and what exactly to do. It takes no time before both you and Hyorin develop a long list of tasks to work on and a proper timeline to make it all happen. You have even gotten a chance to call her manager and publicist to have her schedules handed to you before you can start contacting all the other parties involved.

The moment all the work talk is done, you remain seated in the lounge with Hyorin and her baby. The conversation then shifts once again into a more relaxed and friendly chatter as you talk about mundane things and exchange life stories as if the two of you are old friends. Hyorin had just ordered another hot drink when her baby starts fussing. She takes a moment to calm her daughter down, then she catches you by surprise when she offers you to hold the baby for a moment.

“A-are you sure?” you question her, feeling unsure, though it doesn’t stop Hyorin from handing over the baby or for you to take her in your arms so easily as if you have been ready for it.

“I trust you. And she seems curious about you, so why not?” she says as she helps you settle her baby in your arms until both of you feel comfortable. Seeing that the baby did try to reach out to you with her grabby hands even before Hyorin made her offer, you cannot find it in you to refuse.  “I want her to get used to being around people too. Maybe that would help before D-day when she would be surrounded by unfamiliar people on the day of the photoshoot.”

Hyorin’s words barely register in your mind when you have your attention solely on the delicate thing you are holding. She looked so small while she was lying in her stroller, yet she feels so light and seems so fragile that you are almost too afraid to move. But the moment her eyes flutter open and your gazes meet each other, something inside you seems to snap.

Or, more like, unsnap, when your stress seems to be lifted off your shoulders just by carrying her weight in your arms, and when her eyes grow slightly bigger when she sees your face, as if she is struggling to understand why this complete stranger is holding her instead of her mother. But when the sight of fear that you are expecting to see through her eyes never shows, you slowly begin to feel it building within you instead. Though there is another emotion boiling inside your chest, a sense of melancholy and longing that suddenly makes you wonder—

“They said that babies can heal your soul. I never believed it until the first time I held her in my arms and felt like I was whole again,” Hyorin muses softly as she looks fondly at you holding her baby with such gentleness that you never once thought you would ever have. “How about you? Have you and Jimin made any plans to build your own family?”

And with that, the uneasiness that you have managed to brush off while you were talking with Hyorin returns to you like a tidal wave. Jimin’s odd expression and the cold feeling you had in your chest take over the space in your head that they almost take away the feeling of warmth and comfort that has been blooming within.

“We still have a long way to go before we would have to worry about something like this again,” Jimin’s words start echoing inside your head right at that moment. His face comes into your mind just as everything that you had talked about with Hyorin comes flashing back.

Suddenly, instead of picturing Hyorin going through everything that you have been planning together with her, you see yourself in her shoes. From playing hide and seek with the media and finding out ways to properly share your little one with the world. Knowing your place, and how prominent Jimin is in the world that he has built for himself, all of these things would be something that both of you would be ready to deal with.

Is that why he seemed so troubled about this?

Keeping your eyes on the baby, you try your best not to dwell on these wanton thoughts too much and focus on the present. On the little child who is watching you curiously, as if she is capable of reading your thoughts while you are working on hiding it from her mother.

“I, uh…we haven’t really discussed it yet,” you find yourself answering Hyorin, despite not knowing what to say. “I’ve seen Jimin with children before, and I can tell you that he absolutely adores them,” you say this while looking up at Hyorin with a smile, just as you think about past events where Jimin had to work with children or whenever he encountered them in the past.

“He may have hinted about wanting to have his own kids, but he always says that he would love it even more when those children belong to someone else so he could be the fun uncle,” you joke with her, making her laugh, leaving out the fact that you were simply referring to his past comments about the troubles he might have from having kids. Then you look down again just as the baby shifts in your arms, and seeing her makes you want to voice out your personal dilemma, “I personally have never really given it a thought before, since I’ve always been so focused on my career.”

Just as you say this, something just clicks in your mind. Suddenly, everything makes perfect sense, though you are still too afraid to put your thoughts into words.

“I was just the same before. I’ve always loved children, but never really thought about having my own, or even planned to, since I loved my freedom and I still enjoyed my bustling life where I only had to focus on working and building my career,” Hyorin says. There is a faraway look in her eyes as she reminisces about her younger self, and that look slowly evolves into something that is filled with love and endearment as she glances at her baby daughter. “But I suppose that people’s priorities and views can change depending on where life is taking them to, don’t you think?”

“Yeah—” you mutter softly, understanding completely what she means. You find yourself smiling as you look down at the baby in your arms. She has her eyes open, her tiny lips forming a small smile before she starts giggling and cooing at you, and you begin to feel something inside you shift.

“Yeah, you’re absolutely right. People do change,” you slowly add, and just like that, the fog that has been shielding your true desire is lifted, and you can finally understand the reason why you have been feeling so uneasy ever since the idea of you and Jimin having a baby together started to take root inside your head, and why Jimin’s reaction has been haunting you.

From that moment on, something does change inside you. The uncertainty is slowly shifting, and you find yourself longing to have this warmth blooming inside your chest to last for a lifetime.

You have never done anything like this before.

And yet, you enjoy the thrill that is growing in your chest as you lock lips with Jimin, allowing him to swallow the soft moans that you keep making. You cannot really help making these sounds, when the sensation you are feeling is starting to take control over your body. It builds up like a ripple, calmly spreading from your core to your whole body, before growing more intense with each passing time and with each ministration that you are making against Jimin’s body.

“God, you’re so hot,” Jimin groans against your lips, his hands digging deeper into your hips while causing your skirt to hike further up as you keep rocking your hips on Jimin’s lap. You press down harder, grinding your covered center over his thigh until the ripples of pleasure rise into waves, causing you to tremble on his lap.

You pull away from the kiss with a gasp, while Jimin trails his kisses lower, moving down your chin, to your neck, adding a couple of light bites when his lips come pressing against your pulse. Your hands, which have been clutching desperately onto his shoulders, begin to move down. One palm rests against his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat under your fingers, while you reach down between your rocking bodies with the other hand, finding the hard bulge forming from under his pants which had pulled your attention after repeatedly brushing against it while you are grinding against his hard thigh.

“I want you, Jimin,” you mutter softly with a gasp just as your palm lands over his covered cock. It has grown hard since the moment you started riding him, yet it almost feels like it stiffens further under your touch. You gently rub your palm over it, causing Jimin to groan against your neck, and the moment you feel it pulsing at your touch, the ripples of pleasure that you are feeling shift into another. “Please, Jimin. I won’t make it if we have to wait until we’re home.”

With a groan, Jimin releases your neck and pulls away. “Fuck, I know. Hang on a minute, baby,” he says with a soft growl coming out of his lips. Keeping one arm around your waist to stop you from falling over, he reaches down with the other to unzip his pants. Even with his movement being constricted under your weight and your bodies are pressed together, he still makes it work.

Within a blink of an eye, his pants are unzipped and pulled down to his hips. His hands return to your waist soon after, guiding you to straddle over his crotch before he slips a hand between your legs and gently swipes your panties aside. His fingers find your nether lips, all slick and wet from your arousal. He rubs his fingers across your folds, slowly parting them as he continues, then slides his digits in to find your pulsing entrance. You feel him exploring your heat, using your essence as he pushes his fingers into your pussy.

Biting your lips, you stifle the sound of your moan that is threatening to come out as he moves his fingers in and out of you. He keeps it gentle, making sure not to push too deep but just enough to prepare you for him.

“You’re so wet, baby. Are you sure you want to do this here?” he asks, while you can only nod frantically.  Reaching down, you wrap your hand around his hard-on, drawing a soft moan from him. You give him a couple of gentle strokes, making him quiver beneath you. Your action is enough to give him the answer that he needed from you, so Jimin carefully lifts you up on his lap only to help align your position right on top of his waiting cock. His eyes are on you the whole time, watching you with eyes full of love and lust as you slowly lower yourself onto his erection, gritting your teeth when his cock penetrates you in the most delightful way possible, just the way you wanted him to.

"Oh fuck!" Jimin gives out a long, deep groan of pleasure as you gradually impale yourself on his cock, your muscles pulsing as his girth spreads you open on your way down, milking his cock as you slowly slide yourself up and down on his shaft.

Jimin presses his lips on your neck once more, breathing you in while muffling the sound of his moans that comes from the sensation rolling through his body from having his cock bury itself in your warmth. Once he is inside you, and you are settled nicely on his lap, he kisses your skin and whispers, “Just make sure not to get too loud.”

You swallow down a whimper before answering him, “I’ll do my best, baby. Anything, just—oh, God!”

Your words shift into a light shriek when he suddenly bucks his hips upward, pushing his cock deeper inside you. The pressure feels so sudden that it is almost painful, yet the rush that it brings feels so good it rocks your entire body with that one firm push. Noticing your cries, Jimin pulls you down to him and presses his lips on yours. He kisses you deeply, swallowing your gasps and moans while he rocks his hips, pounding his cock into you with sloppy thrusts. He doesn’t rush right away, taking his time to relish the pleasure that is growing inside him.

Just when your body is adjusting to him, growing more comfortable to move on top of him without shaking too much, Jimin slows down.

“What’s going on, baby?” Jimin breathlessly asks you as he pulls away from the kiss. His hands remain on your hips, holding you up on his lap and stopping you from falling as you lean back from him.

You can barely control your own breathing when you question him in return, “What—? What do you mean?”

Jimin shakes his head, and you take this moment to lean back in, kissing the nape of his lips to tease him, coaxing him to continue. “You are—insatiable,” he moans. “You have been for the past couple of weeks. I don’t mind it, but I’m getting curious to know why.” Instead of answering him, you only roll your hips on him, pushing down on his length to get him deeper, and his words fade into a soft moan. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, enjoying the way you are sliding up and down his cock too much to make it stop, but he puts his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you back so he can look at your face. “You never agreed to my ideas of getting frisky while I’m working or to do these things in an open place like this before.”

Hearing this, you almost falter in your movements, albeit it does make you stop for a brief second before you continue again. Your body reacts first before your words ever make it out of your lips, with the lower part of your abdomen pulsing slightly and your muscles clenching around him as your mind drifts back to a moment from one hour ago. Back to the moment you made a quick check on your calendar, and then rushing to see him before you could stop yourself. You told yourself that finding out that you are beginning to enter your ovulation period had nothing to do with it. You convinced yourself that you had simply missed your fiancé and seeing how enticing he looked while he was so deep in his work snapped something inside of you that you immediately pounced at him. But now, when you feel him buried deep inside you, his girth pressing against your pulsing walls and your stomach coiling with pleasure, you are no longer quite sure what has driven you to this.

“I’m not sure. I guess I’m just in the mood for it,” you simply say to your lover, shrugging it off while putting your rapid thoughts aside at the same time. Closing your eyes, you focus on rocking your hips, riding his cock until the pleasure numbs everything else. “Maybe it’s stress?” you add with a moan, enjoying the waves of sensation that keep building up. Burying your nails into his shoulders, you start moving faster, eager to find your blinding climax. “And you’ve always had an amazing way of helping me destress.”

Jimin softly chuckles, not even trying to deny how right your words are. “You know that I’m always happy to oblige,” he says, as he runs his hands up beneath your skirt, finding your hips. He gives you a tight grip, slowly taking back control as he starts guiding you to follow his pace while he continues to speak. “And I won’t lie, I’ve always thought about how hot it would be to have sex in a place like this, where I’m supposed to be working—” he adds, and he slowly shifts on his seat, finding the perfect angle which would allow him to move better before he starts rocking on his seat, thrusting up just when you come down. The sound of his moans echoes through the room that you almost miss his next words, “—and dealing with the risk of getting caught.”

Your eyes flutter open when he gives you a hard thrust, making you gasp when it rocks your entire body starting from the core. Moaning at the pleasure erupting inside you, your words almost fail to come out when you tease him, “Then maybe I should warn you that I completely forgot to lock your studio when I came in.”

Jimin’s gaze flickers from the door to you, never once missing his pace as he does so. With a sly grin, Jimin bucks his hips upward with a strong force, and he begins thrusting his cock harder into you at a rapid pace while groaning deeply, “Oh, fuck. You’re so naughty, baby. I really love seeing this side of you.”

His words barely register in your mind as you embrace the pleasure that keeps building inside you. But then you start feeling a tug at your top, coaxing you to open your eyes just to see his hand trying to pull it apart. Realising what he is up to, and how close he is to ripping your favourite blouse to give him more access, you hurriedly pull back and start unbuttoning it for him.

Jimin opens his eyes wider once you are done, hungrily taking in the sight of the expensive lacy bra that you are wearing underneath. “Damn, baby,” he murmurs, completely mesmerised by what he is seeing. This time, you are not fast enough, and his hands reach up, pushing the piece of lingerie down and grabbing greedily at your now exposed breasts. As you start bouncing on his lap, Jimin gropes at your shaking breasts, squeezing and kneading excitedly before he buries his face in your cleavage and starts sucking hungrily on your nipples.

You continue to ride him, your hips undulating lithely over his crotch as you slide up and down his cock. Starting to feel so good, you can barely keep your voice down while Jimin keeps groaning blissfully against your skin while mauling at your breasts, going from one to the other as if he is having a feast.

It wouldn’t be long before you can feel it coming, right about the same time Jimin starts cursing and arching his own chest, his cock convulsing intensely inside you as you freely embrace your orgasm. Nothing can stop it from coming into you so quickly. Perhaps your body is a little more sensitive than normal, due to the circumstances, or maybe being reminded of all the chances that anyone from the recording studio might come in and catch you at the height of your wanton pleasure is pushing you over the edge.

With a gasping moan, you succumb to it, the waves of your orgasm rocking your body in a delightful bliss, and your muscles clench tightly around him, sucking him until he is pushed right into his climax. For once, you can feel everything, as if your senses are heightened. The warmth of his release filling you up makes you tremble on his lap. Each twitch and pulse coming from his cock keep triggering the small spasms of your climax, giving you small orgasms while he keeps himself buried inside you. His arms holding you up to his chest feel a bit warmer than usual that you simply melt into his embrace.

It takes a moment before you finally come down from the height of your climax. Once it happens, silence falls, yet neither of you makes a move. He keeps his arms around you as you both take a moment to breathe and find your bearings, to give a chance for the remaining waves of your climax to wane down.

Sighing in contentment, Jimin kisses the top of your head before asking, “Did you get what you came here for?”

“Close enough,” you answer with a chuckle. Pulling away from him, you take a long, deep breath as you straighten up on his lap and take a deep look into his eyes. “Sorry to interrupt you at work.”

“I don’t mind. Not at all,” Jimin says, grinning, most likely not even feeling sorry that you had been so daring enough to start this. “If you say ‘close’, does that mean I’m not doing a good enough job to satisfy you?”

“Oh, you did good. Way better than expected, actually,” you tell him with a content sigh, smiling as you lean down to kiss his lips and whisper, “I’m just saying that I won’t mind going on round two once we get home.”

“Oh, take a look at this, honey. Isn’t this beautiful?”

You must have been spacing out when Jimin’s mother suddenly speaks up, her voice startling you so that you nearly spill your tea. You look up to see the soft-spoken woman sliding your tablet towards Jimin, showing her son the pictures displaying flowers and seating arrangements on various wedding ceremonies that you and his mother had compiled together from the internet.

The three of you are sitting together in a small restaurant not too far from his family’s home, enjoying lunch at the small round table facing the back garden that is quite hidden from the other patrons. The lunch date wasn’t planned, and you certainly were not planning to start any conversation regarding the future wedding when you first accepted your future mother-in-law’s invitation to meet her today. But at some point near the end of the meal, the wedding was brought up between sharing life updates and work-related chats which accompanied the sweet dessert that was served on the table, and Jimin’s mom started opening some image references through your tablet—which had been so conveniently placed on top of the table after Jimin used it to show her some of his upcoming works.

Jimin takes a quick look at the pictures on the tablet and groans, feigning annoyance at having to choose, though the small smile that he is trying so hard to hide is giving away his true feelings. You know that he is happy to know how excited his mother is about the upcoming wedding ceremony, even if neither of you had yet to set an actual date for it. “Why are you showing me these, Mom? I know nothing about flower arrangements. Show it to ______,” Jimin whines at his mother while giving you a quick glance. This time, he is no longer hiding his smile when he adds, “She’s the one who gets to decide everything about the ceremony.”

His comment earns a light smack on his arm, a gift from his mother. “It’s your wedding too! You need to tell us what you’d prefer so everyone would get what they want and be happy,” she complains. “Besides, I already know what ______ wants,” she adds as she grabs the tablet back from Jimin’s hands. “We’ve been sending each other these photos. She made me a—what do you call it—Pinterest?”

Smiling, you nod at her before boasting to Jimin. “Yes, I made us an album on Pinterest so your Mom and I can send each other ideas.”

Looking pleased, Jimin takes your hand in his and kisses it. “Who would have thought that both of you would be having fun planning out this thing,” he says with a chuckle, though it does make you happy just seeing him this way. “Just choose whatever you want for the wedding, I’ll make sure to make it happen.”

His gentle way of showing affection warms your heart, though it doesn’t seem to give the same effect on Jimin’s mother when you hear her scoffing from your other side. “Ooh, listen to him acting so cool,” she taunts him, causing both you and Jimin to laugh as he pulls away. “He used to be so embarrassed to show any affection even to us, his parents, and now look at him.”

Jimin rolls his eyes and laughs softly as he leans back in his seat. “I think both you and I have to agree that ______ deserves to be treated special.” He glances at you teasingly as he says this, causing your face to grow warm, but there is really nothing that you could say in return when his mother wholeheartedly expresses her agreement.

“Oh, I completely agree,” she says, smiling softly when you turn to her. “Both myself and Jimin’s father feel truly indebted to you. We’ve witnessed how much you have helped Jimin over the years, and you guided him to turn his life around—”

“Oh, but that’s all—”

Jimin’s mother cuts you off with a smile and takes your hand. “And we’re also thankful for all those wonderful gifts you helped Jimin get for us over the years you worked with him,” she adds with a wink, while her compliments make you feel shy. Glancing at Jimin sitting by your side, you find him smiling bashfully too. Guess he hasn’t been so subtle about your help with the gifts, after all. “Thank you for taking care of Jimin for so long. It makes me happy knowing that you’ll be taking care of each other for many more years from now on.”

The conversation continues for a while longer, this time with Jimin showing more interest as he looks through the pictures, sometimes with a smile on his face when he stops to take a closer look at a couple of pictures that manage to catch his eyes. You barely pay attention to the pictures that he keeps swiping on the screen, until his mother takes over the device again and immediately gushes over the first set of pictures that appear after her first swipe.

“Oh, look! How cute is this? They have a little girl as their flower girl. Do you think it’s their daughter?”

You lean closer just as Jimin does the same so he could take a look at the pictures together, and your heart starts racing the moment you get a clear view of them. The first photos show a little girl, no older than three years old, wearing a white, fluffy dress as she walks down the aisle between all the smiling guests, the intricate arrangements of decor and flowers, while her tiny hands are busy trying to dump crumpled petals onto the ground as she walks. The next set of pictures shows the girl joining the bride and groom as the pair seem to read out their vows, before the groom picks her up in his arms, making it abundantly clear how much the flower girl seems to be a blended copy of both bride and groom, the girl’s loving parents.

The picture of the happy flower girl lingers in your mind for a while longer, staying there even after the lunch date is over. You can still see it in your head after coming home to the apartment that you now share with Jimin, repeatedly being reminded of her even when you are trying not to think about it. You had known that seeing that picture would do something to your head, yet you didn’t really expect that it would be affecting you this much.

The day is now over, and here you are, sitting alone on the bed while Jimin is taking his time in the shower. The sound of the running water isn’t doing much to silence your thoughts once they resurface. But being alone with your thoughts like this, it gives you a chance to finally delve deeper into them and take a good, closer look to find some answers. To find out why you have been so restless for the past couple of months.

But deep down, you know that the answers have always been there all along. You just have been in denial for so long that the voice of your own conscience is silenced. Not anymore, you bitterly realise, when you finally admit to yourself what it is that you truly want.

Is this what people usually call as baby fever?

You wonder about this with a sigh as you lean back against the bedrest. Looking up to the ceiling, you try to remember when exactly did this feeling begin to emerge in the first place and how it all started.

It all started from the job you took on with Hyorin, when you decided to assist her publicist and help guide her team regarding her public exposure of her new family. Meeting her child for the first time had been the moment when you first felt a deep affection like no other. You had first brushed it off, thinking that it had only been an emotion which came due to the fact that Hyorin’s baby was so adorable and easy to handle with that her presence helped eliminate your stress.

But then the photoshoot happened, and that feeling only grew stronger once you were reunited with Hyorin and her child, forming rapidly into a desire that you couldn’t seem to shake off. The photoshoot was held only a month after your first meeting with the mother and daughter pair, yet the baby seemed to have grown so fast and had become more confident within the short amount of time that you weren’t seeing her. Her presence became a breath of fresh air at the photo studio then, and the longing you had for having the same bond and compassion as what Hyorin had with her child grew more intensely within you ever since.

No, it had started before then.

—you wonder as you begin to realise, recognising that same emotion appearing before your first encounter with the baby ever happened. You had felt that same longing growing inside you that morning when you stood by with Jimin, waiting for the result from the pregnancy tests. It was that longing that had kept bothering you since then, one that appeared from that one moment when you unwittingly pictured yourself and Jimin with a child while unconsciously wishing for the test result to show you a positive sign. You had tried to ignore that feeling, yet it lingered still, growing inside you until it bloomed to be this desire that has been so strongly holding you hostage with a vice grip.

And it was the same desire which had led you into a frenzy, turning you into an insatiable lover to Jimin almost effectively. It had led to numerous occasions where you initiated intimate moments at any given chance. Just like the day when you came to his studio for a quickie, or when you slipped into his changing room on the night of his live performance to get frisky right before he had to come out on stage.

Realising all of this gives you a sense of relief.

Relief of knowing that there is really nothing wrong with you at all. But you cannot deny that it also makes you feel terrified, which is the exact same reason why you have been denying this feeling for so long, and not without a reason.

For many years, ever since you first started entering adulthood, you had always been strict about making plans regarding your life. Starting from the years you spent in school—about the study that you wanted to focus on and how many years you were going to spend studying—to the period of time you started building your career, and the plans you made for yourself on how you would start building your family.

Jimin’s presence in your life had been the first thing that trampled all of your life plans. Just like how the thought of having a child of your own is beginning to make you want to forget all about planning and to simply dive right into it.

People talk about having baby fevers after meeting or seeing other people’s newborn babies, but never once had you ever thought to look deeper into it, or to ever suspect that you would experience anything like it yourself.

Never once had you ever expected to have these thoughts running through your mind. You have been so convinced that the idea or need would not even cross your mind until later, much later, only once a long period of time has passed after you hear the sound of the wedding bells. But here you are now, pondering, contemplating, even having a mental image of yourself with a smaller version of you or Jimin in your arms.

In the past, thinking about something like this would have bothered you. It would have sent you running to the hills, not out of fear, but out of the daunting feeling that tells you that you are not ready. That you wouldn’t be worthy enough to even consider it. But here you are now, feeling an unshakable deep sense of longing that you have no idea how to deal with. And you have only noticed now that this feeling has sunk its root so deep within you that you are feeling so strongly for it. You have never craved something so bad, that it is beginning to take control of your want and need. It has taken control of your main focus that it becomes the only thing you can think about no matter how much you have tried to push it so far to the back of your mind.

Sitting there with this realisation washing over you, you have also come to realise that there is really no point in fighting against it.

You want it. You want it so bad, and you can only silently hope that Jimin would want the same.

With your thoughts running havoc inside your head, you remain seated on the bed in the same position for quite some time. Still with your back pressed against the bedrest, your eyes looking far away at the ceiling and not at all noticing Jimin as he finally steps out of the bathroom.

He says nothing when he finds you. It makes him curious when he sees you like this, yet he waits for a blink of a moment before snapping you out of it with a gentle voice, “Is there something wrong, baby?”

You turn to look at Jimin as he walks closer to the bed. He had left the bathroom door slightly ajar behind him, allowing you to see a faint trail of mist coming from his hot shower following him. The mesmerising sight of him walking out of the mist, with nothing more but a piece of towel hanging around his waist to cover the lower part of his body, and with his hair and skin still slightly damp from his shower, makes your heart leap a beat. But you try your best to not let any of it—not even the inviting sight of his bare chest—make you lose focus.

Taking a deep breath, you muster the courage to speak. “Can we talk?”

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Normally, those words would make me run for the hills,” he jokes with a light chuckle. “Of course, we can.” Saying this, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, facing you with a curious yet concerned look on his face. You don’t even question his lack of need to cover himself before joining you in bed. Not when you’ve learned through the period of time you have spent living with him that it is quite a normal occurrence with Jimin to be completely bare when sleeping with you. You do feel grateful that he is keeping his towel on—for now, at least—so you can remain calm and focused enough to be able to share your thoughts to him properly.

Though it doesn’t necessarily mean that you are capable of controlling your nerves.

Looking at his beautiful face, you try to think of ways to express your thoughts and feelings, not knowing how to get your message across without making him feel bad. In the end, the words just start running out of your mouth, “What do you think about a…a baby?”

Jimin looks surprised, obviously not expecting to hear such a question. For a moment, you feel a bit of hope when his eyes seem to lighten up. But it lasts only for a brief moment. Your stomach feels heavy the moment that light dims.

“Are you asking me if I would ever consider having one? Now?” his frown deepens, and his eyes flicker to your stomach curiously. “Are you—”

“If you’re asking if I’m already pregnant, the answer is no,” you quickly answer him, and his gaze clears out when he looks at your face again. You try not to see his expression as relief, knowing that it would only disappoint you if it is true. “I was just wondering—I know we haven’t talked much or planned forward aside from the wedding talk, and we’ve only talked briefly about maybe considering to talk about it only after the wedding, but I’m curious to know…do you want kids?”

With a sigh, Jimin answers carefully, “I’ve always wanted kids. Even though I know that I told you about not wanting them with my work being so busy and all, but the truth is, I just wasn’t ready then.” Hearing this, you are reminded again of his past comments. Everything that he had said about having children at the peak of his career—about how it would be a terrible idea or how he didn’t see himself as someone who could handle a child—and all the other comments that had given you the basic reasons to deny your feelings. “I know that you might not be thinking about it—”

“What makes you think that?” you quickly ask him, “Do you think I don’t want to have kids?”

Jimin’s brows crease yet again. “You just never told me you did, except for the time you said something about waiting until after the wedding day to talk about it. And I never brought it up again once I started thinking about it because I just thought—” he sighs. “I’ve already asked a lot from you ever since we started this relationship, so I didn’t think it would be fair if we talk about it before you’re ready.”

“What if I am ready for it?” you carefully ask him, “What if I’ve been ready?”

“What are you saying?”

Biting your lips, you silently decide that this might be the best chance to admit everything, now that he is answering all of your questions. “Remember that time when my period came late and you made me do the test?” Jimin nods at this, obviously remembering that moment, though he does seem a bit lost, still not knowing where this is going. “I’ve been thinking about it since then. A lot, actually.”

Jimin seems interested as he leans closer. “Go on,” he says, urging you to keep talking.

With a sigh, you finally admit to him in a small voice, “I think I’ve caught myself a major case of baby fever.”

“You have?” he asks, looking intrigued, and judging from the sly smirk that he is trying so hard to hide, he also seems to be excited to know more. “When did this happen?”

“It’s been happening for a while,” you answer him, still with a small voice but with less hesitation this time, before you start telling him everything. From the morning this feeling first emerged, the first time you began to picture having mini versions of you and Jimin, and then having that feeling grew stronger when you got involved with Hyorin and her child. Then you explain how it had possibly been the reason why you had been acting rather wantonly over the past couple of months, even while you were still in complete denial. And then you admit how you have remained in denial until the moment you saw the wedding pictures today—the beautiful pictures of the bride and groom and their happy little daughter becoming a part of their special event—when everything finally came crashing down on you.

“So—” Jimin starts to speak, finally putting two and two together. “All those times you suddenly turned up at work, giving me surprises whenever I come home, initiating things, all of that…all because you were craving for a baby?”

Groaning in defeat and shame, you cover your face with your hands and start grumbling under your breath, “I think I’ve been unconsciously trying to get pregnant. I’m so sorry.”

Jimin laughs and gently pulls your hands away from your face. “It’s fine, baby,” he says, looking more amused than you expected he would. “Thank you for being so open with me about it. But you’ve been taking your shots, haven’t you? Or did you stop taking it when it happened?”

You can feel your own blood getting drained from your face, suddenly realising just how bad things could’ve turned out and feeling guilty about what you have been doing.

How could you have been so reckless? What would’ve happened if you did get pregnant and Jimin wasn’t happy about it? You feel guilty for knowing that you could’ve jeopardised your entire lives and relationship because of it.

A sense of relief washes over you for knowing that at least your birth control is stopping all of that from happening. “Yeah, good thing the shot was still taking effect. Oh, God. I’m supposed to have another appointment already. What if I’m late to get it? I’m so sorry, I have no idea what I was thinking. I’ll make sure to call them up in the morning and not miss any until we have everything plan—”

“Unless—”

You stop when Jimin cuts you off, though he only confuses you further when he doesn’t continue. “What are you trying to say?”

Jimin smiles softly and shrugs. “Unless you change your mind about waiting until we’re married. That’s the reason why you wanted to talk about this with me now, isn’t it?” There is a glint of mirth and joy in his eyes when he says this, as if he can read through your mind. “Have you been thinking about the pictures we saw today? Do you want to have our own little ones be at our wedding? A mini version of you running down the aisle in her tutu dress while dumping flowers to the ground, or a mini me with his tux, waiting to hand out a ring after our vows? That’s what you’ve been thinking before I came back, wasn’t it?”

Him bringing this up only makes you teared up. “I—I want that,” you softly whine, before groaning, “Oh, Jimin. You’re making it worse. Now I want it so badly.”

With a soft chuckle, Jimin gently wipes a tear that slips down from your eyes. “You had doubts because you thought I wouldn’t want kids, did you?”

You nod. “Whenever I think about it, I’m always reminded of what you said and did then, about how much trouble kids would give you when you’re so busy with your schedules and tours,” you confess to him. “Even when I see how good you are with children, either with the children modelling with you or with your friends’ kids, I would keep remembering how we both agreed to only talk about having kids after we get married so I keep denying how much I want it.”

He gently shakes his head. “I know what we agreed about. But I have to admit that my view about having kids have started to change ever since I began picturing our lives together and about us building a family together.”

“You have?” you ask him, while he simply nods. “You never said anything, so I didn’t know what to think when I started thinking about it too.”

“Then—” he starts, slowly sliding closer on the bed to get next to you. “How about we talk about it now?”

“Okay,” you whisper to him as he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gently pulls you to his side. “What should we talk about? Where do we start?”

“First, we can hold back that birth control shot for a while, if you want to,” he says after mulling it over for a brief moment. “And then why don’t we just let things be? See how it turns out if we allow things to happen naturally.”

“Are you—are you sure about it?”

He shrugs. “I mean, we haven’t really set out a date for the wedding, so that gives us some time, doesn’t it? We don’t even know if it would happen so soon. But, at least we can do some practising until then,” he says, lowering his voice seductively and teasingly that it makes your face feel warm.

“I don’t mind having some practice.”

Hearing your bashful answer makes him smile. With a light touch, Jimin lifts your face by the chin and whispers, “I love you, baby. I don’t want you to feel like you need to hide things from me. You know that you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

Nodding, you look at him with a wry smile. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t that I wanted to purposely hide this from you. I guess I was just in denial about it. Until today,” you carefully admit, before slowly adding. “I love you too, Jimin. Thank you for allowing me to open up.”

He kisses your temple, and when he pulls away, the look in his eyes gives a tight pull inside your chest. His gaze is filled with love and affection when he looks at you. But there is something else there, appearing at the same time he runs his gaze down your face, to your body, before his eyes stop briefly on your lips.

As if he cannot help himself, Jimin leans closer and gives you a passionate kiss, his hand coming to your waist with a gentle caress over your nightshirt. Feeling the thin fabric covering your skin, Jimin lightly groans. “What did I say about wearing too many clothes to bed?” he complains, looking annoyed at your sleeping attire. He pulls it lightly, tugging on it until its hem starts rising up your legs and all the way up to your hips.

“Take this off,” he whispers, as he helps you pull it further up so that he could press his palm on your belly. “And for now on, now that we’ve talked about practising, I want you to forget ever wearing these things to bed.”

“Really?” You lift your eyebrows at him teasingly. “Not even those little pieces that you love so much?” you ask him while glancing over to the nearby drawers where you keep your negligees and lingeries that he has often bought for you, and he immediately knows what you are referring to.

Groaning deeply as he starts picturing you wearing them, Jimin immediately says, “Except for those tiny things. I’ll let you wear them from time to time. Now stop stalling and take this thing off.”

With a tug, he helps you peel the nightshirt off of your body. With a blink of an eye, he pulls it over your head and then it is gone, leaving you in nothing more than the cotton panties that you have been wearing. Looking down at you, Jimin looks pleased to see that you have at least decided not to wear your bra before climbing onto the bed.

Just like always, he immediately seems to be captivated by the sight of your bare breasts. His eyes are locked on your soft flesh, watching as they rise and fall in your steady breath. Then his hands come down on your exposed mounds, palms touching and kneading on them, starting from the under curves of your breasts before climbing their way up, finding the sensitive tips, making them grow hard with his touches. Using two of his fingers, he gives one nipple a pinch, while he playfully rubs a thumb over the other gently, drawing a myriad of sensations that cause you to arch your chest to feel more.

Claiming your lips once more, he kisses you with full of hunger, drawing your attention away from his hand as he reaches down between your legs and starts teasing your clit through the fabric of your panties.

“All that talk about having a baby with you—” he breathlessly whispers against your lips while pressing his fingers at your center while his other hand are still spreading warmth on your bosoms. “Now I can’t get it out of my head. You make me want to just give it to you now.”

His words put the same images into your head, drawing a soft gasp out of you. Immediately, you feel the sudden rush of desire coming back to life. The same one that had taken over you even before you found the courage to admit this baby fever of yours, now rising more intensely, taking over you so strongly that it almost makes you grow breathless.

“You did say something about practising, didn’t you?” you whisper with a raspy voice, already embracing the pulses of desire brewing under your skin. Reluctantly, you push Jimin away, forcing him to take his hands off of you when you shift on the bed. With a coy smile, you slowly peel your panties off of you, kicking them down your legs until you are completely bare. But instead of giving him a chance to return to you and touch you again, you flip onto your hands and knees, wiggling your hips to him teasingly before saying, “Come over here then, Daddy. Come put a baby in my belly.”

Your words seem to snap something within Jimin, as his gaze darkens after hearing you. Raking his gaze down your body, you can those pretty eyes of him filled with lust and hunger, and a dark desire that seems so intense that you can feel it on your skin, as if it turns into invisible fingers tracing down the curves of your body until his gaze rests on the area between your legs. Crawling towards you, Jimin kneels right behind you, positioning himself close enough to see everything but not enough to have his body touching you.

Just when you are about to look over your shoulder to see what he is doing, wondering why he isn’t making any move, the sound of a smack echoes through the room, before a sting of pain slowly grows right on your right bottom cheek.

Did he—did he just spank me?

Before you can find your answer, Jimin’s palm returns to your skin. Though instead of bringing more pain, he gently caresses the very same spot that he had laid his hand on earlier, as if trying to soothe the sting that faintly lingers. “Sorry, baby. I couldn’t help myself,” he says with a low voice, still while caressing your skin until you feel the pain subsiding. “It’s just that seeing you teasing me like that after our serious talk drove me crazy. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“It’s fine. I…I kinda liked it,” you shamelessly admit to him when you start feeling a new sensation building up once the pain and the shock is gone.

“You did, hmmm? Then how about making this fair?” he asks, right before you feel another slap on your bottom cheek, landing on the left side this time, making you gasp.

Once again, he soothes the pain with his gentle palm. Slowly, the pain starts ebbing away, and it almost seems like the blood pulsing at the spots where his palms had landed on are not only fading, but shifting into something more delectable, which is gathering at your center. The sensation only intensifies as Jimin continues kneading at your bottom, and you begin to feel your desire pulsing from within your core, even when he has yet to touch you there.

His touches grow more alluring, as he is no longer using his palms to soothe your pain, but to deliberately cause something else to rise in your body. As if he could feel it, perhaps from the way your hips are slowly swaying against his touch in return or from the way your breathing grows heavier, and he continues to repeat his touches, kneading and massaging and caressing lovingly that it is beginning to drive your head spinning.

Then suddenly, he bends down, pressing his lips right over your spine. To the sound of your gasps, he begins tracing kisses on your skin, down to your tailbone, and to the lovely curves of your buttocks. The sensation you feel building from his action leaves you gasping for breath, and he is not stopping, moving to find the spot where you still feel the phantom pain of his spanking and going around it, before moving to the other side to do the same. And then just when your body reacts on its own, with your hips moving backwards to chase his lips, he suddenly gives you a bite, right under your left bottom cheek where he had spanked you earlier.

You let out a squeal, not expecting to have him biting you there. But just like before, Jimin quickly replaces the pain with a soothing kiss. Except that this time, he traces his kisses from the painful spot all the way to the center, finding your throbbing pussy. He doesn’t give you any chance to process this when he starts eating your pussy, devouring you from behind with his hands holding firmly at the curves of your bottom.

The way his sinful lips are kissing your nether lips with pure desire, and his tongue slipping between your slit and pressing against your pulsing heat, all give you the kind of pleasure that feels so maddeningly good, you begin to lose the ability to hold up your weight. Still with your hips being held up by his strong hands, your upper body falls over to the bed as your body shakes with pleasure.

“Ah—Jimin!” you cry out for him, unable to hold back from the rush of pleasure he is igniting within you, though your voice is slightly muffled by the sheets beneath you. Seeking leverage, you clutch the sheets with your shaky hands, holding on as he continues to eat you, sucking your pussy with both lust and hunger that you can feel the faint ripples of your climax building inside you.

Jimin devours you for a moment longer before pulling away, stopping right as you are already at the brink of your orgasm. In the absence of his lips, he slips his fingers between your folds, gathering your slickness to use it to push his digits into your pussy.

Your fingers sink further into the sheets as his fingers slide through your hot walls, pressing against the pulses and gently spreading you open for him. He pushes all the way in until he has most of the length buried inside you before slowly pulling out, waking up the spasms of your pleasure, and he repeats it again, pushing in and pulling out at a slow, teasing pace until your body welcomes him fully. He continues fingering you, giving you a few more strokes before he finally comes to a halt.

A soft thud can be faintly heard beyond the sound of your heartbeat. You may not be able to see it, but through the back of your mind, you can only guess that Jimin has tossed away his towel. There is a shift on the bed when he moves closer. His hand returns to your hips to hold you up, while the other reaches out, grabbing a fistful of your hair and giving it a pull until you rise up.

“Pull yourself up, baby. That’s it. Hold on tight for me,” he whispers, gently pulling you back up by your hair until you are straightened up with your palms planted on the bed.

Jimin only lets you go to give himself a couple of strokes and align himself at your center. With his other hand, he presses down at your spine, holding you still. You wait with bated breath until the moment you feel a nudge at your wet opening. Jimin’s hand returns to your folds, spreading your nether lips apart just as you feel the head of his cock pushing through. He fondles your clit a little while the pressure of his penetration builds.

Inch by delicate inch he enters you, welcomed by the spasms of your desire and the wet sound of your slickness giving way for him to slide deeper. He thrusts, and pushes, pulling out briefly and then pushing in again, until your body gives way to his length and girth. And that is when he begins fucking, pushing and bucking his hips at a rapid pace, advancing even deeper with each thrust while giving you nothing more but intense pleasure.

Jimin’s cock is soon buried to the hilt in your tight walls, deliciously snugged between your warmth. The shudders that keep surging through his body pour themselves all over yours, centered from where your bodies are connected. His hands are tightly gripping your hips as he continues fucking you, adding more force into his thrusts now that your body is fully adjusted to his ruthless poundings.

“That’s it, baby. Take my cock!” you hear him grunting as he humps against your behind. Each hard thrust of his pelvis causes his hips to slap loudly against your round bottom while his cock keeps surging deeply inside your tight, clutching pussy. Each pounding he keeps giving you rocks your entire body that you cannot help but bury your fingers deeper into the sheets to hold on.

“Oh, Jimin!” you groan out his name through the intense waves of pleasure that are increasing from your core. Your body is getting shunted and shoved further against the mattress as your lover vigorously slams his hard shaft into you.

As Jimin’s thrusts grow more and more frantic, you can sense that he is almost ready to cum. “Oh fuck, yeah!” you hear him grunting under his breath, his hard erection keeps pistoning in and out of your hot cunt.

You brace yourself, both to feel his release and to embrace your own, but to your surprise, Jimin halts before the first shudder of his climax comes and pulls out of you, denying you of your release. It happens so suddenly that you feel as if your body loses its force, nearly toppling forward once more if not for the hard grip he has on your hips to stop you from planting face first onto the bed. Just as you are losing balance, Jimin pulls you up and swiftly flips your body around as if you are weightless.

“Oh!” you let out a squeal once your back lands on top of the mattress. Your heartbeat is still pacing rapidly, still in shock at how easily he is able to handle your body and weight. Kneeling between your legs, Jimin oozes power and dominance, yet you can still feel the gentle aura that he always carries with him when he runs his fingers from your hips, tracing down to your thighs where he gives another tight grip and lifts your legs up.

All the way up.

He doesn’t stop until your ankles are settled on his shoulders. Not only does this position put a strain on your body, it makes you lose any sense of control. Your muscles put up a restraint for a moment before you try to relax and let it happen, and that is when he pushes forward, bending over you until you are half-folded beneath him.

“Easy, baby. Breathe in and relax. Let me know if I’m hurting you,” he keeps whispering these words to soothe you while he keeps rubbing your legs. His touch travels back down to your hips just as you feel him nudging back at your folds, his stiff cock ready to return to your warmth. With his gaze locked on yours, Jimin grabs a tight hold on your hips and then pushes forward, entering your heat in one firm stroke.

“Oh, God!” you scream out as you feel the pressure knocking the air out of your chest. In this position, he feels like a tight fit inside you, your muscles seem to clench around him in a firm hold.

You can feel it affecting him when his body shudders on top of you. His chest feels tense against your palms when you reach up to hold onto his shoulders, yet his heartbeat thrums so rapidly that he seems to be shaking under your touch.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good around me,” he curses, taking a moment to breathe deeply while he begins pumping his hips and cock, setting up a pace while setting your whole body into a bundle of wildfire.

Your legs tremble as he pushes into you a few more inches, taking his time to enter you while relishing your pulsing warmth, until he impales you fully once more. You can feel him throbbing within you, each pulse coming from his girth coinciding with the pulses coming from your walls, as if his cock is responding to your body. But what catches your heart is the desire written on his face.

He pulls back again only to return with a hard thrust, pulling a gasp out of you. Instead of giving you a moment to breathe, he repeats the motion, delving not only just a few inches deep, but spearing deeply until you can feel the pressure deep inside your chest. And your body welcomes him, when you feel nothing but intense waves of pleasure.

“Feels different, doesn’t it?” he says between the deep moans he keeps making, while you can barely respond to him, unable to find the right words and too breathless to sound your voice.

“Uhh, so…deep,” you whine breathlessly as he thrusts deeply without a warning, hitting the spot that gives you a blinding pleasure.

Jimin forces his eyes open to look at you, rocking his hips firmly as he picks up his pace. “I’ve read some stuff when I have time. Some said that doing it this way will make sure that the seed will set inside your womb properly,” he says, groaning with pleasure between each word he speaks. “Not sure if it’s accurate, but it’s still worth a shot, don’t you think?” You open your mouth, yet your mind is too muddled to even think of an answer. Folded under his weight, there is really nothing that you can do but to take his pounding and give in at the sensation building within. Seeing this seems to please him, as a smile appears on his face when he leans in and whispers, “But I think I’m beginning to like this position more now.”

“You’ve been—ah! Looking things up before?” you gasp breathlessly.

“You have no idea how often I would picture you carrying our child. You would look so beautiful, so hot—fuck, I’m picturing you right now,” he confesses further, never missing his thrusts or losing his pace. Though it does feel like he is suddenly picking up his pace again, suddenly getting a bit rougher when he briefly closes his eyes, groaning, “Just thinking about it makes me go crazy.”

The tempo of his thrusts keeps building up, and the waves of your pleasure keep rising. It seems crazy to think that the thought of him getting you pregnant through this is making you feel hotter, and your body seems to grow even more sensitive the more he puts those images into your head. So much so that you can feel your body responding to him more excessively, that each pump of his cock feels so blindingly good, sending your body rocking harder and your toes curling with how intense all the pleasure coming to you feels through your body.

“Ha—ah, Jimin!” you cry out when there seems to be nothing stopping you from going over the edge. Right at the same time, you feel him bulging inside you, and his rapid thrusts seem to grow a bit clumsier, as if he is slowly losing his own self control.

“I’m going now—” he groans, fucking you harder, faster, filling the air around you with the sounds of his gruff moans, the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the shaking mattress, and the hoarse sounds of your cries of pleasure. The ripples that he ignites within you grow more intense, and he moans loudly when he feels it too. “That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock, baby. Cum right now and take all of my load.”

You can feel that he is getting close, yet still holding back to wait for you as he works your body so expertly. Releasing your hold on his shoulders, you reach up under your folded legs and start palming your own breasts, playing with yourself. With each knead, each pinch at your nubs, and the firm push of your soft flesh, you add the intensity of the sensation you are feeling from his rough lovemaking. You are already on the brink of your climax, and Jimin takes it even further when he slips a hand between your entwined bodies and finds your clit, giving it a light slap before pinching it, pushing you towards your blinding climax.

“Oh, oh, oh…! Jimin—” you cry out in your release. With nowhere else to go, you could only fist onto the sheets beneath you, holding on tightly as your entire body convulses. Your orgasm feels so intense that it draws a deep groan from Jimin, and he doesn’t let go, still thrusting steadily and keeping his pace as if he wants to make it last. But for some reason, you don’t feel any sign coming from him to chase his own end.

Your body continues to shake with your release, taking its sweet time to come down. Through your hazy eyes, you watch Jimin as he opens his eyes, looking as if he is enchanted and mesmerised by the sight of you embracing your climax. He reduces his pace and looks down on your body, not at where you are connected to each other but at your lower belly. Pulling his hand away from your clit, he presses his palm on your stomach, gently caressing it.

“Oh, baby. I really can’t stop thinking about it now that you’ve put the idea inside my head,” he murmurs, his voice fading in and out while you are trying to ease down from the spasms of your release, which is hard to do when he is still moving inside you. In and out he goes, steadily slow, dragging his girth along the length of your pussy walls to make you feel everything. “I can’t wait to see your stomach swell with our baby. I’m going to fuck you every night, fill you up until you are full with my cum, until we have our little one growing inside you.”

He continues talking, soft spoken words that sound almost like a spell. With each word he gives you, his pace begins to pick up again. As if his own spell had done something to himself. He somehow feels even harder, the width of his cock seems to swell further, making it feel tight when he pushes deeply with a forceful thrust.

“Jimin, please…!” you cry out his name with a voice so raw and dry and breathless. But every word that you want to give him fades, taken over by the pleasure as it rises like a tidal wave.

You close your eyes when the delightful pleasure overcomes you, and his words, the beautiful spell that he gave you earlier, take form inside your head. It snaps something out of you to picture yourself being pinned the same way as he fucks you into oblivion, all for the sake of putting a baby inside your womb. It makes you grow hot, your core coiling with another wave of orgasm, each spasm growing stronger from one to the next, and you are suddenly hanging at the precipice of your release with no return.

You scream again as he thrusts into you so deep, too deep, holding you there as he makes you take his entire length, to take all of his hard cock as it throbs and pumps roughly into you. He seems determined to make good of his words, as he doesn’t slow down a pace, only returning each cry and moans you give him with a hard, intense thrust.

“Jimin! I’m coming again!” you cry out once more, yet you feel your body rising, your hips welcoming his ministrations so openly like a needy, wild minx, all while being pinned helplessly beneath him with nowhere else to go.

“Baby…fuck!” he cries in return, as he bucks against you, and you feel the warmth of his release filling you up, drawing more and more spasms coming through your walls. He continues moving his hips, keeping the same sloppy pace to make it last. And then he ends it with one last final thrust, his cock pulsing inside you tightly, spurting the last of his seed to join the rest, completely filling you up just as he promised he would. You can feel his excessive cum flowing out of your cunt with each thrust he is giving you, coating his cock, down to your bottom, making a complete mess out of the two of you. Yet neither of you cares, when you both find your climaxes together, embracing it with your bodies shaking and rocking together as one.

It continues for a while longer—as Jimin continues to rock his hips against you, bringing you into a long-drawn-out bliss, while everything seems obscured as you are lost in cloud nine—until the moment Jimin slowly eases down and begins to shift. He does his best to be careful as he lowers your legs back to bed, his fingers moving in circles as if to soothe your trembling legs. Drained of energy and feeling sated at the same time, your entire body feels listless, though you still endure the occasional jolts of pleasure until they slowly begin to wane.

You close your eyes briefly as you take a deep breath, only to have them fall back open when Jimin pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. Jimin meets your gaze with a smile, making no move to leave you as he reaches out, picking up his discarded towel to clean both of you from the remnants of your wild lovemaking.

“Seems like we’ve made quite a mess,” he mutters with a chuckle while he carefully rubs your tender skin.

“Hmmmm—”

Your lack of response only makes him chuckle. Tossing the soiled towel away, Jimin kisses your lips and lies down right beside you. He gathers you in his arms, pressing you close against his chest. “But I also think it was worth it. Don’t you think?”

Once again, you give him nothing but a tired hum. Too exhausted to speak, all you could do is lean against his chest with a content sigh. You can still feel him shaking as he laughs, yet you already have your eyes closed, already fading into the dreamland that you barely hear him whisper to you, “Try to get some quick rest, baby. I’m not done with you yet.”

It feels like you barely doze off for a brief moment when you start feeling his touch on your skin again. You come awake in Jimin’s embrace, his hand on your breast, before he sets you on alert when his other hand travels down between your legs. A gentle press from his naughty fingers on your clit triggers a moan slipping out of you, then his lips descend on the side of your neck to stop you from squirming in his hold. Snaking his arm around your waist, Jimin continues kissing your skin, adding to the myriad sensations rising through your body with his fingers playing with your swollen clit while he cups your bare breast with his other hand once more.

“You’re not feeling too sore now, are you?”

The only thing that you can give him as an answer is a soft moan, when his touches seem to wake up not only your nerves, but also your desire.

“Hmmm—” is the only sound you can possibly make before a sigh of content slips out of you. But words don’t seem to matter as much when your body reacts first, as you arch your chest into his touch and you slowly give in, allowing him to pull your legs open, spreading you wide for him to lean closer and align himself at your center.

“Easy, baby. Bear it with me. It’s going to be a long night,” he whispers, right as he spreads your folds and pushes his hips forward, his stiff cock entering your throbbing pussy in a gentle stroke, though still enough to make you quiver in his arms.

Epilogue…

There is something magical about the warm sunlight falling on your skin, the sound of waves filling the background, and the colourful petals spreading against the white sand.

If there had been any doubt over having this destination wedding when you first planned it, it has surely been forgotten. Right now, all that you have in mind is the thought of walking down the aisle, the flowery path leading you towards your future. It feels like you are walking inside of a dream, with your dress flowing with each step you take, while Jimin is waiting on the other end, looking like a prince charming.

“You look beautiful,” you hear your father whisper to you as he walks you down the flowery path. You look up to him with a smile, unable to answer him without worrying that you might cry if you try. Instead, you look down, hiding your flushing face while trying to compose yourself before your emotion gets out of control.

Your eyes fall on the flower bouquet in your hands just then. The combination of white daisies and yellow roses should be able to represent your love story with Jimin, but there is another that is present as a token of your love. The baby bump that is partially hidden behind the layers adorning your dress and the flower bouquet now pressed against it.

The heart-to-heart talk that you shared with Jimin all those months ago had led to many nights of lovemaking, trying new things, new positions, and ‘more practising’, as Jimin would describe it. After a lot of effort made, a lot of waiting, and numerous tests taken, it finally happened, and now there is a precious life growing inside you.

Your dream of having your little one running ahead as your flower girl or standing by his side as the ring bearer would have come true if you had waited a while longer. But you have waited long enough, and neither of you wanted to wait until another period of time goes by to be married. You had to accept having another girl be your flower girl, Jimin’s toddler niece who is waddling clumsily towards Jimin across the flowery path while carrying her basket in her tiny arm. You watch her with a fond smile as the pretty petals keep dropping directly from the basket as she toddles away instead of from her fingers. Rubbing your palm over your bump, you picture having your own girl one day toddling ahead of you, and it is enough to cause a comforting warmth blossoming inside your chest.

After the slow walk that seems to last forever, you finally have no more than a few steps away left from reaching Jimin. Your future is just an arm’s reach away. Looking at him now, you cannot help but take a good look at the life that you have had for the past few years, of how much your fate has unravelled in the most unexpected way possible. And it all happened because Jimin came into your life.

Growing from the work relationship that was filled with challenges, to a mutual partnership filled with respect for one another, and here you are now today, exchanging gazes filled with passion and love, the mutual feelings that you both share as you embrace this new journey together.

Sometimes you cannot help but wonder where would you be today if you had taken all the different decisions in the past. But all the same time, you would always be reminded of how often your choices had almost made you lose all of your chances to be happy with him.

How often had you tried to deny your feelings in the past? From the love that you had secretly harboured for him, to your desire to become someone deserving of his love, and the desire you had for building your future with him.

Whenever you look back to those moments, you are always reminded of the times you had unconsciously put on your glass masks to hide your feelings and your true desires. The same glass mask that had once helped hide your heart and soul from him. All the same masks that were so fragile you had kept them guarded so firmly just to protect yourself and keep you safe from being hurt or disappointed.

But with your luck, Jimin had always been able to be the one to take those masks away from you. Time and time again, he would find those glass masks of yours and be the one to crack them into pieces, revealing your true self to him. With nothing more but his gentle touch and his pure love, Jimin has always been able to help you open up, to give you the courage to be completely bare for him, and you have always found the comfort of knowing that never once have you regretted ever giving your faith in his love.

Finally reaching your future husband, Jimin welcomes you by offering his hand for you to take while whispering softly,

“Ready?”

“Always,” you answer him while returning his smile.

Right there and then, as you take his hand and look up at his face, finding his eyes glowing with his unshed tears while you can feel your own beginning to form right before the priest begins reading out your vows, you find yourself breathing a sigh of content, because those glass masks are no more.

There is a fleeting moment of clarity as a soft flutter grows inside your chest the moment you open your heart and soul for him. It first comes to you as he recites his vows to spend his eternity for you and grows stronger as you promise him to do just the same. You simply embrace everything, all while holding his hands tightly, never to let go, as you are free falling into your future with him.

Together.

— © 2023 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[actual-changeling]

late-night, not entirely series meta thoughts, but i'm wondering why exactly the metatron wanted to keep muriel on earth.

the obvious answer is to have someone take over aziraphale's bookshop, knowing damn well he would have a hard time simply abandoning it, and i think it's definitely part of it. then again, he could have called on any angel to take aziraphale's place, why choose muriel, who has already proven to be easily swayed into disobeying heaven?

they quite literally opened the doors for crowley, a demon, to infiltrate heaven, and then summoned confidential files about the sacking of the archangel gabriel, which only THREE others angels had previously known about. two of them archangels, one of them most likely the metatron's assistant/right hand/whatever saraqael is.

surely it's easier to keep someone like that close and in heaven, away from any outside influence instead of letting them run wild on earth, aware that they'll go native to a certain degree. it's already started! they're reading! and enjoying it!

so why does the metatron encourage that? why put them on earth? hell, WHY did they send MURIEL to verify the miracle in the first place? i didn't question it while watching, i doubt most people did, but if you actually think about it and put yourself in michael's and uriel's position, it makes absolutely no sense.

it's like sending the intern who's been making coffee since they started a week ago to substitute the CEO in a business meeting. something will happen and maybe something will go right, sure, but there are better people for the job. people who actually know what they're doing - we see how badly muriel fails at their job, michael and uriel look like they're getting twin migraines.

(someone get them a cup of coffee and some ibuprofen. and maybe a stress ball for michael before they break something.)

my first thought was that muriel is important for the second coming. i know there are speculations/thoughts about muriel having been an archangel/angel of a higher position who, like gabriel, got demoted and their memory erased. maybe, maybe not, but it once again opens the question of why send them to earth?

maybe to keep an eye on crowley or be a walking security cam for heaven to see what's going on on earth since aziraphale was a complete failure in that regard.

then again, if i were the metatron in that situation, i'd put them in a cupboard and forget about them, and that's quite literally what they did (just without the cupboard, they took the "as far out of the was as heavenly possible" approach instead) - however i would make sure they don't *leave* wherever i put them. it's a risk not worth taking.

i don't have any definitive conclusions or thoughts, mostly just observations, so if anyone wants to chime in, please do!

[arcane-vagabond]

Outrun the Devil: Chapter Two

Outrun the Devil: Chapter Two

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob Floyd had always been a good kid. So how did he manage to let his childhood friends rope him into living a life of crime? A member of the famous outlaw group, the Dagger Gang, Bob longs for a future where he can settle down and earn a respectable living. When he meets the new barmaid at the local tavern, that future doesn't seem so farfetched, but will her past catch up to her?

Warnings: Allusions to prostitution, Reader being hard on herself, Low Self-worth, Suspicious Reader. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Here is the long awaited Chapter Two!! I hope you all enjoy it, and as always, comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I also post my updates! And, if you feel so willing, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

You were beginning to develop a rhythm for how your days went. You woke up, got dressed, ate a simple breakfast, cleaned the saloon, took orders from the patrons throughout the day, deal with the evening crowd that always picked up as the sun began to set, and then go to bed. It was simple, and you were glad for the steady work that allowed you to keep busy.

Penny had been kind to you, seeing that you adjusted and settled accordingly over the past week. You had met a girl they called Birdie only a couple of days after you arrived. She was staying with Penny and her husband, Maverick, and had taken on the job as a schoolteacher for the local children. You admired her seemingly endless supply of patience for all of the little ones, a feat you weren’t sure you would be able to manage. You, unsurprisingly, had not been around many children during your time in New Orleans, but you thought you might always like them.

You often found yourself smiling when watching the children run around the streets after school, wondering what it would be like to have your own. You always pushed that thought away, knowing that you would be a terrible mother. How could you be a good one with your past and your lack of understanding about children? Still, the feeling negged at you, whispering for you to just entertain the idea. You found yourself giving in more and more recently, but who would want you? You were sullied, ruined. What man would want you as his wife let alone the mother of his children? No, you decided. You would remain content with what life you had now, not willing to risk the good you had been able to find.

You had been cleaning the glasses from the night before when you heard the saloon doors creak open. Looking up, your heart skipped a beat at the handsome man that made his way towards you. Bob had an eager smile on his face as he approached the bar, and you felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze. That was so unlike you. Normally you were the one making the man feel giddy and excited for activities only you could provide him.

Bob stopped in front of you, placing a basket on the counter with an expectant look on his face. Your eyes darted down before back up to his deep, blue eyes, your eyebrow raising in question. His excited grin transformed into one a little more bashful as he dropped his gaze from yours. It was his turn for his cheeks to flush, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Sorry, I know I came by unannounced.”

“No,” you rushed out. “No, it’s fine. What brings you by?”

Bob cleared his throat again before lifting his gaze back to yours. “I thought you might be hungry?”

“Oh,” you blinked, looking down at the glasses behind the counter.

Bob followed your gaze, and you weren’t sure how it was possible for his skin to grow even redder.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered, running a hand over his face. “I should have realized that you would be busy. I mean, of course you would be, why wouldn’t you? It’s clear you work really hard, and that you take your job seriously. I shouldn’t have just come by assuming anything different. I don’t want you to think that I don’t-”

He stopped as you placed a gentle hand over his. He swallowed as he looked at you, eyes darting nervously across your face.

“Can you breath for me?” You smiled at him. He returned it nervously before letting out a long exhale. You squeezed his hand with a nod. “Ask me again.”

“What?” He frowned, not understanding. You took your bottom lip in between your teeth to fight off the giggle that threatened to spill out.

“Ask me again,” you prodded. Bob studied you for a moment before taking a deep, calming breath.

“Bunny,” he started, causing you to flush at the new nickname. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

You hummed, your grin threatening to break out across your face as you pretended to think, tapping your chin thoughtfully. Bob’s eyes took on a pleading look as he watched you silently, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I don’t know,” you giggled. “I still have all of these glasses I need to clean…”

You heard a snort coming from the door to the backroom. Both of you turned to see Penny watching the both of you with a smirk.

“Bunny, quit teasin’ that poor boy and go take a break,” she chuckled, walking over to take the glass out of your hand. “Be back in an hour.”

You smiled sheepishly at her as you moved around the bar to join Bob. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, and Bobby?” Penny called after him as the two of you turn to walk out the saloon. He turned to her with wide eyes.

“Yes, Penny?”

“That does not mean bring her back on the dot,” she smirked. Another blush crept it’s way up Bob’s neck as he nodded at her, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you out onto the street. You felt tingles run up your spine where his hand rested againt you, and you wondered if this is how it felt to be a normal girl for a change. It was a new sensation, being nervous around a handsome man. You had had your fair share of moments spent in the company of handsome, young men, but you knew what to expect in those transactions.

Penny spoke highly of Bob, but you had spent time with good men who still wanted the same thing from you. You frowned at the thought. Perhaps Bob was just looking for the same thing. He was certainly putting forth a lot of effort for someone he barely knew.

“I thought we could sit under the tree by the church,” he murmured to you, bringing you out of your contemplation. “It’s one of the few places with shade in town.”

You smiled up at him politely and offered him a nod of your head. You felt bad for jumping to conclusions. If Bob had wanted to do anything, under the tree in front of the church was not the place to do it without inviting some kind of trouble.

“I think that sounds lovely,” you told him quietly. Bob grinned at you, leading you that way. He set the basket down on the ground, kneeling to take out the blanket he had placed carefully on top of the food. He spread it over the ground, offering you his hand as he helped you sit down. You leaned back on your hand, watching as he began to take out the various dishes he had packed.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he smiled. “I think I might have packed too much.”

You giggled, looking at all of the different food items he had placed around you. “Were you planning on more people joining us?”

“No,” he blushed, ducking his head down. “I just wasn’t sure what you would like, so I packed some of everything.”

You stared at him, eyes wide. He cared about what you liked? When you didn’t say anything after a moment, he began to fidget nervously.

“I knew it was stupid,” he muttered, more to himself than you.

“No!” You rushed out, startling him. He looked up at you and the two of you maintained eye contact for a moment.

“It’s not stupid,” you continued shyly, breaking the eye contact to fidget with your hands. “I think it’s very sweet.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you hopefully, eyes brightening. You gave him an encouraging nod.

“Yes,” you whispered, feeling the heat behind your cheeks turn to lava. You searched desperately for something to say as Bob stared at you. “Where did you get all of this?”

“Oh!” Bob exclaimed, a grin gracing his features. “I helped my mama make it all!”

“You can cook?” You asked him, brow raising in shock. He nodded enthusiastically, grabbing for a plate of cornbread.

“Yeah! I love it, actually. Here, tell me how this tastes.”

He held up a piece of the cornbread to you, and you slowly opened your mouth to him. He placed the piece on your tongue, thumb slightly grazing your bottom lip as he pulled back. You began to chew, a burst of flavor exploding over your tongue. You let out a quiet moan at the buttery taste, causing Bob’s grin to become so wide that you wouldn’t be surprised if it hurt.

“That’s really good!” You smiled as you swallowed, looking up at him. Bob’s blue eyes gleamed under your praise, chest puffing up in pride.

“I made that all by myself,” he boasted, offering you more. You took a larger piece enthusiastically.

“I never learned how to cook,” you admitted, averting your gaze once again.

“Really?” Bob asked you, and you nodded, feeling shame crawl up from the depths of your stomach. He hummed thoughtfully, handing you some chicken.

You wondered if your admission had messed everything up, although you weren’t quite sure there was anything to mess up. Nonetheless, you felt a lump begin to form in your throat, both from your inability to do much of anything it seemed, and the thought this this kind man would want nothing to do with you now that he knew you had nothing to offer.

“I could teach you how.”

Your eyes shot up to look at him. You hadn’t even realized that tears had begun to form in your eyes until Bob reached out to wipe them away.

“Hey,” he cooed gently, his thumb moving down to stroke your cheek. “Why’re you cryin’, Bunny? S’okay. Did I say something to upset you?”

“No,” you whimpered, not quite understanding why you were crying yourself. You never cried. Crying never did you any good. You pushed the unexpected feeling down into your chest. “You’d really teach me?”

“Of course,” Bob smiled. “You just tell me when and what you want to cook, and I’ll make it happen.”

You sniffled. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

“You don’t have to worry about repayin’ me, okay?” He told you. You stared at him with pursed lips and he let out a small chuckle at your expression. “I’m serious! Don’t worry about it. Just think of it as me helping out a friend, yeah?”

“A friend?”

“Yeah,” he blushed, suddenly seeming unsure of himself. “We’re friends, ain’t we?”

You nodded at him slowly, but you felt dissatisfied at the sound of the word. Before you could fully begin to analyze what that meant, you heard the sound of a body collide with the ground. The two of you turned to see a small, blond boy no older than six slowly push himself up off from the dirt. You stood quickly, rushing over to him with Bob right behind you.

“Are you alright?” You asked the boy, placing your hands gently on his arms as he sniffled. He looked up at you with wet, green eyes and a wobbling lower lip.

“Yeah,” he told you tearfully. “I tripped and fell.”

“Billy,” Bob began, voice stern but gentle. “What have we all told you about running around like that?”

“I know!” Billy cried, tears starting to run down his cheeks. “But I was going to be late for class!”

You glanced up at the church door where the last remaining children wandered through. You looked back at Billy, offering him a small smile.

“I’m sure Birdie wouldn’t want you to get hurt just to get to class on time,” you told him softly. “I know she cares a lot about you all, and it would be a shame if you couldn’t make it to class at all because you got hurt, right?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, sniffling as he looked at you. You smoothed your thumbs over the scratches on the palms of his hands.

“Why don’t we go in together and tell Birdie why you’re late now, yeah?”

“Okay,” he whispered, taking your hand in his smaller one. You stood up, walking with him into the Sanctuary, Bob trailing after the two of you. Every head in the room turned as the three of you walked into the sanctuary, and Birdie’s eyes furrowed as she saw the sight before her.

“Billy?” She asked uncertainly, eyes leaving him to look at you. You gestured to the little boy beside you awkwardly.

“We had a little accident outside,” you explained. Birdie took in the dirt on his trousers, frowning at him.

Sighing, she made her way up the aisle towards the lot of you. “You were running again, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t want to be late,” he mumbled, looking up at you and squeezing your hand. You squeezed it back as you gave him a reassuring smile.

“Well, let’s get you to your seat, alright?” Birdie sighed, motioning for him to go on ahead. He slowly let go of your fingers as he made his way to the front. Birdie watched him pass before turning to you with a smile.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, and you nodded at her. You turned to walk out of the church with Bob close behind you. You sat back down on the blanket, Bob plopping down next to you. You felt his gaze on your face, and you turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable as he watched you, and you quirked a brow at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said softly, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “You’re really good with kids, you know?”

Your eyes widened in shock. You weren’t sure what to make of his words, so you instead to chose to focus back on the food. Grabbing a plate of what looked like chicken, you ripped off a chunk and popped it into your mouth.

“Will you teach me how to make this?” You asked him. He chuckled, taking a bite of more cornbread.

“Of course.”

Later that day, you were finishing up some cleaning when Birdie came sulking into the bar. She slid into the stool in front of you, placing her head in her hands glumly.

“What’s eatin’ at you?” Penny asked her, brow raised curiously. The younger girl let out a defeated sigh.

“The children are going to do a play to help raise money for the schoolhouse.”

“And that’s an issue because?” You asked her, eyes darting to Penny to see if she could shed some light on the situation. She shrugged, turning her attention back to Birdie.

“Because,” she grumbled, “It took us an entire week to settle on doing a play. Now they can’t decide what play to do.”

“Ah,” Penny said, leaning against the bartop, “what are the suggestions?”

“Some want to do Cinderella, some want to do Snow White, and others want to do Sleeping Beauty,” she groaned.

You watched her thoughtfully. “Why don’t you just let them make their own play up?”

Birdie’s gaze lifted to yours, eyes gleaming with intrigue.

“Let them do their own play?” She asked you, and you nodded at her.

“That way everyone can do something they like.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Bunny!” Penny grinned, Birdie nodding excitedly. You blushed under the attention.

“It reallly is!” Birdie exclaimed, leaning back and away from the bar. A smirk made it’s way onto her lips. “Have you ever thought of becoming a teacher?”

“Me?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “No, I wouldn’t know what to do. Besides, I can’t even read.”

Birdie’s eyes widened. “You don’t?”

“No,” you said softly, suddenly feeling self concious under her stare. She pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“I can teach you,” she said finally.

“What?” You chuckled with a frown. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Well,” Birdie smiled, “it’s a good thing you won’t have to then. I’m volunteering! Unless you don’t want to learn?”

“No, I,” you trailed off. She watched you with kind, shining eyes. You sighed. “I would actually really love that, Birdie. As long as it doesn’t take up too much of your time.”

“It won’t,” she chirped, turning leave as the evening crowd began to file into the saloon. She casted you a wave over her shoulder as she trotted towards the door. “Let’s start tomorrow, okay?”

You didn’t have a chance to argue as your attention was grabbed by some of the patrons who were already demanding their drinks. Penny chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, Bunny,” she grinned. “Don’t want to deal with cranky customers this early in the night, do we?”

[danielfuckingricciardo]

16 + Charles and 26 + Pierre please ❤️

Hi!

Sorry this took so long, I’ve been in such a writing slump lately and this has sat unfinished in my drafts for weeks! But I finally did it and I hope you like it!

The Charles one is also in progress, I’ll make sure to tag you in that one when I post it :)

Song 26 - Creep//Radiohead

Pairing - Pierre Gasly x Reader

Word Count - 3.8k

Content Warnings - swearing, discussion of mental health issues

When you were here before Couldn't look you in the eye You're just like an angel Your skin makes me cry You float like a feather In a beautiful world I wish I was special You're so fuckin' special

Your therapist called it impostor syndrome. She mentioned it a lot during your weekly online meetings, and you usually laughed it off with some cringy internet joke about being ‘sus’ and tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. You’d receive a concerned glance, as you always did when you apparently ‘used humour as a coping mechanism’, but she would eventually move on to another topic, usually something about taking care of yourself physically as well as mentally.

Taking care of yourself physically was never a problem. You had nutritionists and personal trainers, physiotherapists and masseuses available whenever and wherever. The team made sure of that. To Alpha Tauri F1 team, your physical health was their top priority. Your mental health? Not so much. It was easy to lie to them and say that everything was fine, so that’s exactly what you did. You didn’t want to risk losing your seat because you told the truth about how you actually felt inside, so instead you saved that for the therapist you hired for yourself, and every Wednesday at 2pm you unloaded a week’s worth of thoughts and feelings you couldn’t share with anyone else.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, (y/n), we all feel like we don’t belong to some degree. And the bigger you make it in this world, the stronger those feelings will be.” She says, and you scoff.

“I’m not sure about that. The rest of the guys on the grid all seem so confident in themselves, and it’s definitely not a facade. They believe that they are the best of the best. I wish I could feel the same.” You say, and your therapist gives you a small smile before scribbling something in her notepad.

“You can’t know that for sure. Everyone experiences self doubt at some point in their lives, but they beat it, they get through it. Look at you, (y/n), against all odds you made it to where you are now, and you can’t tell me that the powers that be would have you there if they didn’t believe in you. You just need to learn how to believe in yourself as much as they do, and as much as your fans do.” She says, and you nod.

You know she’s right, but you wish that she wasn’t. You wish that your feelings would be vindicated so that you didn’t feel like such much of an idiot for having them.

“Is there anything else you’d like to talk about today?” She asks, and you open your mouth to ask a question, but are immediately interrupted as your phone begins to ring.

You look over at the screen and check the name - Pierre. What the fuck does he want? He never calls you, hell, he hardly ever talks to you unless he’s obligated to. This was definitely weird, something was definitely wrong.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta take this. Work stuff.” You say, and your therapist nods.

“Okay, let’s end the session early this week. Please do text me if you have any concerns you’d like to discuss.” She says, before ending the call and sending your computer screen back to her website.

You take a deep breath in and out before pressing the green icon on your phone screen.

“Hi?” You say, to no reply.

“Hello?” You repeat, and you receive no reply once again.

After a few moments of nothing but shuffling and breathing on the end of the line, you hear a quiet voice in the distance and strain your ears to hear. It’s clear Pierre didn’t mean to call you, it was probably a butt dial or some other similar fuck up, but you couldn’t help but want to listen in to whatever conversation he was having.

It was probably wrong, a total invasion of privacy, but your curiosity got the better of you, and you turn your phone’s volume to maximum.

“The fact of the matter is that Pierre feels as though he isn’t getting anywhere with Alpha Tauri, and therefore, as a team, we have made the decision to make the move to Alpine for the 2023 season.” You hear a familiar voice you cannot place say on the other end of the phone.

You let out a gasp and immediately clap your hand over your mouth, hoping that your shock had not be heard in the silence that had descended across the room.

Pierre was… leaving? After all this time? It was no secret that the two of you had never really bonded following your ascension to Alpha Tauri’s second seat, but you depended on him a great deal. He was great with the media, the fans, and the other drivers, and you felt comfortable following him around the paddock like a lost puppy, laughing and smiling along with everything he said and did.

You probably annoyed the hell out of him, and that was probably part of the reason he was eager to get away, to find a team mate he could actually have some meaningful banter with. Sure, you knew that he hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye with Esteban, but they had grown up together, and had an awful lot in common with one another. It seemed like a solid ground for a relationship, one that would definitely be more popular with the fans than your own.

You hear shuffling through the phone handset, and a whispered ‘fuck’ before the call is ended and the line goes dead.

“Fuck.” You echo, and you throw your phone down on your couch and pull your legs up to your chest, burying your head in your knees as you let out a single tear.

You didn’t think that you were crying for the loss of Pierre, that didn’t make sense, after all, the two of you hardly spoke outside of work. But at the same time, you couldn’t imagine being without him? You hadn’t realised until now just how much you had relied on him, and how much he had helped you over the years. He was the only friend you really had, though he probably regarded you as an acquaintance at best. All of your other friends had been left behind the day you moved your life to Faenza to be closer to the team, and you spent so much time travelling here, there and everywhere, that you hadn’t really had the chance to make any closer to your new home.

You hated to say it, but Pierre was your rock, and you had grown to care for him deeply, and now, losing him, what would it mean? You hoped they would call up some other, more experienced driver, like Daniel perhaps, to take the first seat. He could more than make up for your lack of confidence with his outgoing, loveable persona. But the alternative? The alternative scared you. If they were to call on some rookie to take his place, suddenly you would be the experienced one, the one to teach the newbie what to do and what to say. You barely knew yourself just how to play the game, you wouldn’t exactly make the best mentor.

You suddenly become aware of your breathing becoming faster, and more erratic, as your mind races, and employ one of the techniques your therapist had taught you to slowly regulate and steady yourself. God you regretted ending your session early, you could really do with someone to talk to right now.

Shakily, you reach for your phone and begin to draft out a text to your therapist. She had said to text if you had any concerns, and this was a real fucking big one.

Your phone begins to vibrate in your hands, and it almost slips out of your unsteady grasp as you read the contact name at the top of the screen - Pierre.

Fuck.

You take a shaky deep breath in and count in your mind, 1,2,3,4. You squeeze your eyes shut and squeeze your lips together tightly, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7. Finally, you exhale, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, and you accept the call.

“Hey! Did I call you just now?” Pierre asks, and you hesitate.

“Umm…” You say, unsure whether to lie, or to tell the truth.

“How much did you hear?” He asks, and you chuckle awkwardly.

“You still live at the same place? I’m coming over, I think we need to talk, yeah?” He says.

“Yeah, same place.” You say, and he hangs up.

You stare at your phone for a moment, your mind racing as you wonder exactly what Pierre wants to say to you. Was he angry at you for eavesdropping? You knew you should have hung up, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were always taught that knowledge is power, and you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to discover something new, even if it came from a blatant disregard for your team mate’s privacy. Hell, you’d be angry too if someone eavesdropped on a private conversation of yours, it’s only natural, so you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to come over to yell at you.

Why else would he be coming to visit? It’s not like he owes you an explanation, or an apology. You meant nothing to him, you were just some overgrown rookie hanging off of his coat-tails, nothing but a burden.

Lucky for you, you weren’t left waiting long, as your apartment was only a few blocks away from Alpha Tauri’s headquarters, and you soon heard a rhythmic knock on your front door.

You take a second to breathe once again; in for four seconds, hold for seven seconds, out for eight seconds, before getting up to answer the door.

“Hi.” You say quietly, opening the door for Pierre to enter, your eyes not leaving the ground for a second.

Pierre follows you inside and takes a seat on the chair opposite the sofa where your things were spread out; a blanket, your phone, your laptop, a hoodie, and your favourite stuffed animal.

“Before you yell at me, let me bring my tissues. I always cry when I get yelled at, it’s not a guilt trip thing, so don’t feel bad, it’s just this thing I do, I can’t control it, I…” You say, walking over to your side table where you kept your tissues ready for a particularly sad movie or dog video.

“Who says I’m going to yell at you?” Pierre interrupts, and you turn to look him in the eyes for the first time.

“You’re not?” You ask, blinking away the tears that already threatened to breach your waterlines.

“No, why would I… That’s not why I’m here, I just wanted to make sure you were okay after hearing all of that.” He says, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“Me? Okay? You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.” You say, throwing yourself down on the sofa and closing your laptop, which still happened to be open on your therapist’s website, which Pierre had, no doubt, already seen.

“Oh, thank you! I expected a little more from my long time team mate after finding out I was leaving! Maybe not tears, but, something?” Pierre says with a chuckle, and you shake your head.

“No, no, don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely devastated that you’re leaving, and I’m going to be completely tragic and sad next year without you because I’m a total loser with no fans, but I’m happy for you, really.” You say, and Pierre gives you a warm smile.

“You’re not a total loser, (y/n).” Pierre says, and you give him a small smile.

“But you do think I have no fans?” You chuckle, letting out a small sniffle.

“You know I don’t think that. I’ve seen it myself, how many fans you have out there.” Pierre says, and you scoff.

“They’re all your fans, Pierre, and they’ll be leaving with you. We all know they only tolerate me because of you.” You say, and Pierre shakes his head.

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true! I mean, I have practically no personality when it comes to media stuff, I freeze at the slightest interaction with the media, I post like twice a month on Instagram because my life is just that boring, and, not to mention, I spend my free time talking to my therapist in the company of my fucking stuffed animals.” You rant, and you feel tears running down your cheeks as you speak.

“You really don’t see it, do you? How much they like you because of those things. You’re relatable, (y/n), you’re normal. You’re here to race, not to be a celebrity. You’re not an attention whore posting shirtless selfies for likes and saying stupid shit to keep your name in people’s mouths. And people like that.” Pierre says, and you scoff.

“Yeah, as if.” You sniff.

“If you don’t believe me, then just look online.”

“My therapist said googling myself was a bad idea. Besides, I don’t just wanna be normal and boring. I want people to know me, but I just get so… scared, I guess? Scared they won’t actually like me the way they like you.”

“Well, the little of you that I know, I like.” He says with a smile, and you feel your cheeks heat up. This was the first time you’d heard Pierre compliment you before, and you couldn’t deny the fuzzy feeling it gave you.

“I just wish I was more like you. You’re so popular, with the fans, the media, the other drivers. I see how everyone crowds around you, you were made to be the centre of attention and you’re so fucking good at being in the middle of everything. You have this winning personality, everyone wants to either be you, or fuck you. Or both. If I could just have one tenth of that charisma, that personality, that vibe, then maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to do this thing properly. But I don’t. I’m just (y/n). A loser.” You say, and Pierre shakes his head again.

“But you don’t need to be me, (y/n). You don’t need to pretend to be something you’re not for people to like you. The other guys like you just fine, they just wish you would talk to them more so that they can get to know you. Fuck, (y/n), I don’t think I even know you properly yet. I’d like to, and so would Charles, and Lewis, and Lando. You know, they ask me about you, a lot. I think they would talk to you more, but they don’t want to scare you.” Pierre says, and you chuckle.

“Ha, they know me well enough to know I’m terrified of social interaction, so there’s a start.” You say.

“You know that me leaving doesn’t mean I’m abandoning you, right? I’ll still be there for you.” Pierre says, and you look up at him, sniffing away your tears.

“Really?” You say, and Pierre smiles.

“Hey, I wouldn’t do it for my other team mates, but I guess you’re special.” He says with a chuckle.

“Well, that genuinely means a lot, really. Thank you.” You say, looking up at Pierre to briefly glance into his eyes.

He smiles at you, not breaking eye contact for a moment, and you feel the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I have to go, I have so much shit to do today, but don’t be a stranger, yeah?” Pierre says, standing from your chair and heading for the door of the apartment.

“I won’t.” You respond, and he winks at you before disappearing behind the door, closing it gently with a click.

Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you grab your phone again and immediately dial your therapist.

Ring. Ring. Ring. The call connects.

“Hey, um, I know this isn’t strictly therapy stuff but I need some advice.” You say, and she chuckles down the phone.

“I’ll help as much as I can.” She responds.

“So, I think I have a crush on my team mate, well, and don’t tell anyone this, he’s technically gonna be my former team mate. But yeah, I need help.” You say, and she laughs again.

“Oh, well that’s interesting. Let’s see how I can help then, yeah?” She says, and you exhale a shaky breath.

———

One Year Later…

You look out at the sea of fans, cheering and screaming for you and your team mate as you walk out onto the stage. You give them a wave, a smile, and a wink, and notice just how many of them are wearing your number on their shirts and caps. It gives you a fuzzy feeling on the inside, knowing that Pierre was right, losing him as your team mate wouldn’t mean you’d lose their support.

If anything, losing Pierre helped you. You did take his advice, and with the help of your trusty therapist, who was no longer your therapist at all but your closest friend, you had managed to come out of your shell more and show the world your true personality. And it felt good.

You take your seat beside Nyck on the stage, and turn your attention to the interviewer, who was waiting for the fans to stop their cheering to ask you the first question.

“Okay, okay, any more cheering and we’re gonna run out of time! Let’s get to questions, hm?” The interviewer asks, and you smile.

“Actually, I don’t mind the cheering! Keep going guys, let me hear you!” You say, your voice dripping with enthusiasm and excitement as the crowd goes wild once again.

“First question then, who are you and what have you done with (y/n)? You were so quiet and reserved these past few seasons, but now you seem to have really grown in confidence, and I’m sure I speak for everyone here when I say that we love it!” She says, and you chuckle.

“Well, it’s true I struggled a lot during my first few seasons. I honestly didn’t feel all too confident in myself and my abilities, and that really made it hard for me to be so outgoing. But, things have changed, and I owe it all to my former team mate Pierre. He’s really helped me to grow as a driver and as a person, and given me confidence that I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to have. Even now we’re not team mates, I’m still his biggest fan and just so grateful for his support. So yeah, I really really owe it to him.” You say, and the audience cheers and whoops at your mention of Pierre.

Since Pierre’s move to Alpine, the two of you hadn’t been able to spend as much time together at work, but that didn’t stop you from spending time together at all. You had both made an agreement with one another to go out together at least once a month, and you had even taken a trip together during the winter break at the end of the previous season. Naturally, this meant that speculation was wild with fans over the nature of your relationship, with some insisting that you just had to be a couple.

But the truth was, you weren’t really sure what your relationship with Pierre even was. Sure, a few drunk kisses had been exchanged, and there were hugs aplenty, but as far as Pierre was concerned, you were just friends, even if you did desire something more.

“You mentioned Pierre there, and I’m sure everyone in the audience has seen the photos of your little dates and that ski trip you took back in December, so, are you really just friends?” The interviewer asks, and you blush.

“Yes, yes, we are just friends, really.” You chuckle.

“But if he asked you out, what would you say?” She asks, and you shake your head, a smile playing on your lips.

“Put it this way, I wouldn’t say no.” You laugh, and the audience erupts into loud cheers at your response.

Once the crowd’s shouts and whoops had quietened, the interviewer directs her attention to Nyck and you sit and listen intently until you are ushered backstage with a smile and a wave.

“You wouldn’t say no, huh?” You hear a familiar voice say, and your cheeks immediately heat up.

“I mean, I’d be a fool to say no right?” You say, trying to play it cool despite the anxiety rising within you.

“Then I’m taking you out Wednesday. Properly. Wear that black dress, you look sexy in it.” Pierre says, and you can’t help but stare at him, your eyes wide and your mouth dropping open in shock.

You try to search your brain for a response, but it seemed to have become completely blank the moment Pierre called you sexy. You can’t quite believe he actually said it, and for a moment you wonder if you were hallucinating, or dreaming, and pinch yourself on your arm. It stings, like a bitch, and you realise you most certainly weren’t dreaming. It was real.

“Okay. See you in practise tomorrow, yeah?” You finally manage to say, and Pierre smirks at you.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” He says, winking at you before joining Esteban who was waiting in the wings ready to step out on stage.

The pair step on stage to roars and cheers from the fans, and you chuckle in disbelief, taking one more glance out to the sea of hats and shirts that bore your number. You were finally able to be you, unapologetically so, and the fans loved it, Pierre loved it too, but most importantly, you loved it.

[unhappycylinder]

Gonna Be Trouble (Jake Seresin x Fem! Reader) Part 3

Hey!! Sorry for being M.I.A. for like eternity. I’m finally back with part 3, its kinda short but part 4 will be out soon!! Let me know what ya’ll think :)

WC: 2k

Warnings: Swearing & Angst

Part 1 Part 2

---

Jake had gone back to base after dropping you off last night. As much as he wanted to stay and enjoy you more, and as much as you wanted him to keep you company through the night, you both understood that he had to be up at the crack of dawn to prep for the second day of the air show. Before he left he had smothered you in hugs and deep passionate kisses that only left you wanting more, only left you spiraling into heartbreak thinking about what would happen between you after the event was over.

It's not like he was staying in Vegas, and to be fair neither were you. You had a day’s worth of driving back to school ahead of you, and he had a whole F18 to deliver back to California, back to his squadron, his duty. It was foolish of you to think this could actually be something, right? Plus what if he didn't feel the same, what if he wasn't as into you as he let on, what if he was just in it for a quick fuck and didn't feel any emotional connection at all. 

You laid in your bed staring blankly ahead at the ceiling, letting your thoughts spiral and crash into one another, making you question whether you should even bother going today and risk meeting up with Jake and having him break things off with you before they could really even begin. 

No, that was dumb. You came all this way for this show, and you weren't gonna miss it because of some feelings, some really good feelings. Jake was different, you knew that, and hey best case scenario he'd want to work things out with you and make this happen. Worst case you go your separate ways. It'd hurt like hell, but it's what needed to be done. 

You got yourself out of bed and into the bathroom, washing your face and doing your makeup before slipping into a cute but cozy outfit. Hyping yourself up with some music, you paced around your room for a couple minutes before finally opening the door.

The ride to the airshow was quiet today, no people to talk to, no stories to share. That just left you more time to spiral, great, just what you needed. Thinking about Jake only made you more nervous, but it also gave you the most intense butterflies you’d ever had in your life.

Once the bus pulled up, you let everyone else get off first before finally working up the courage to step off, clinging to your phone for dear life. There were more people here today it seemed, maybe that’d give you a chance to blend in and avoid Jake, avoid the consequences of him possibly not feeling the same about you.

His F18 was visible down the tarmac, and so was he, well his back at least. The jet was parked the same as yesterday and the pilot you had gotten to know so intimately looked just as delectable as you remembered in his green flight suit. After just one glance you felt instantly calmed, as if every worry you had about him not feeling the same was washed away. Why had you even been worried about him rejecting you or him disliking you, he was right there and he was everything you’d ever wanted. You needed him.

As quickly as the relief came however, it went away, careening back into your mind as stress and pain took over. Jake tossed his head back in a belly laugh and turned around to reveal a gorgeous woman standing in front of him. She had long curly brown hair and a gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and a tight fitting dress. It was nothing you’d wear to an air show, that is unless you were trying to attract the eye of some pilot, which she obviously was by the placement of her manicured hand on his upper arm. As he laughed she leaned in and squeezed his arm tighter, smiling up at him with so much flirtation in her eye it was palpable.

God why wasn’t he stopping her. Why wasn’t he rejecting her.

To make matters worse he lifted his hand and patted her on the shoulder, allowing his hand to linger as he leaned down and spoke softly into her hair, eliciting another deep laugh from her.

Fuck.

Before he could see you raging with jealousy, before he could catch you staring on the brink of tears, you turned your attention to yourself.

Fine. If he’s gonna play that game, so can I.

You glanced around for anyone, any pilot, who you could throw yourself to. And then, like a knight in shining armor, came a tall gorgeous man with a luscious mustache. Of course he was in the same flight suit as Jake and the same aviators, but yeah he’d do.

“You look a little lost there honey” he said

“Yeah sorry I just,” you paused, glancing between the man and Jake, “I kinda have a thing with a guy over there and he looks to be flirting with another woman”

“Oh god which guy,” he said in a tired voice, as if he’d heard this before, and stepped closer to you to get a better look at the crowd.

His eyes landed on Jake, where yours were also resting, and he threw his head back and sighed, “please for the love of God don’t say its Hangman”

You sighed too, “its Hangman”

He chuckled lightly and brought his head down to look at you, you looked up at him, angling yourself to face him.

“Unfortunately for me I have the soul-draining obligation of working with that man, so even more unfortunately I’ve spent enough time with him to know how you can make him jealous”

“Oh really?” Now you were intrigued

“Its the only way to get through that stupidly thick Texan skull of his,” the man leaned down to you, taking his aviators off, “we gotta make him think he doesn’t already have you wrapped around his finger, honey”

You opened your mouth to speak, flabbergasted by the confidence and flirtatiousness of this man, but he cut you off with a sigh as he stood back up to his full height.

“The issue is I have a stunning, perfect, absolutely dropdead gorgeous girlfriend,” he said nonchalantly, “her name’s Gabby, she’s over by that F15 right now,” he gestured to a jet behind him. You glanced around him and indeed there stood a gorgeous woman with long dark brown hair and beautiful bone structure admiring the jet. She glanced over at the man and shot him a million dollar smile.

“Hi honey, we gotta do a little Hangman fixin over here!” He yelled, she blushed and nodded back. They were adorable.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to help out a friend in need,” he said back to you

“A friend?” you asked, “honey, I don’t even know your name”

He chuckled, amused by your use of his nickname, and he stuck out his hand for you.

“Bradley Bradhsaw, callsign Rooster”

“Double Brad, I like it,” you shook his hand and smiled at him.

“Alright so what we gotta do is make him think you’re flirting with me, but that you also know he’s there.” Bradley explained, “so you gotta look at him every once in a while and see if you can catch his eye. Enough of that and he’ll be marching right over here trying to claim his girl.”

“You’ve really got this down don’t you. How many times have you had to do this” you asked

“He and I have a bit of a rivalry thing going on, its par for the course” Bradley nodded

And with that you commenced your flirting with Bradley. Arm touching, his hand around your shoulder while walking past the planes, whispers into each others hair, all the while you were turning to Jake between each move to see if you could catch him looking.

You couldn’t.

He was either too preoccupied talking to some woman, or too preoccupied gawking over his plane with the ex-military dads who came over. Not once did you catch him staring…but that didn’t mean he wasn’t.

After toting around with Bradley for the better part of twenty minutes you decided to call it quits and return him to Gabby. She collected him with open arms and a passionate kiss before turning to you and enveloping you in a hug as well.

“I hear Hangman’s giving you trouble,” she said after pulling away from the hug

“Ugh yeah kinda, sorry to involve you guys in all that its just, Bradley was really sweet in offering to help,” you said

“He’s as kind as he is sexy, my Rooster” she said, looking up at him.

The three of you were sandwiched in between two jets, talking about how Gabby and Bradley met, how long Bradley had been in the Navy, Gabby’s job as an archaeologist, and all that. She even gave you her number so you could chat after the air show or if you ever visited San Diego.

In the middle of laughter between the three of you, stomping footsteps came up behind you and abruptly stopped, drawing Bradley and Gabby’s attention behind you, their faces dropping.

“Y/n” a familiar voice said

You turned around to see Jake standing there in his flight suit, out of breath,

“I need to talk to you,” he said flatly.

—

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing” Jake asked angrily, pacing back and forth in the empty ready room he had led you to on the side of the tarmac. A ceiling fan whirled above you, swirling the miserably stuffy air around the room, making this exchange even more miserable.

“I mean I’m standing by my jet all morning waiting for you to come say hi, come talk to me, and all you can manage to do is prance around with my best friend,” he raised his voice at you, “you’re making me feel like a complete idiot y/n, making me feel like nothing that happened between us mattered,” his voice softened, his eyes finally meeting yours to reveal…pain.

“Jake,” you paused, he was right, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t flirting with the other women who talked to him, “its not like I can’t say the same about you,” you looked away.

“What?” He asked, stabilizing himself on the back of a chair in front of you

“Jake every time I looked over at you another woman had her hands all over you, and you were doing nothing to stop them!”

“y/n,” he looked up at the ceiling shaking his head, “that’s just how it is. I can’t help that women flirt with me”

“Yes you can!”

“Oh and please enlighten me then”

“Maybe you could start by not touching them back, how’s that Jake”

He looked down at his feet, tapping them lightly on the ground, “Y/n what you did was wrong”

“Jake you’re talking to me like I’m a child” you retorted, not about to listen to him talk down to you for doing the exact same thing he did

“Cause you are one,” he yelled, looking up at you and shrugging his shoulders, an annoyance in his eyes like you hadn’t seen before.

“What the fuck?” You asked, hurt and confusion burning inside you

“You’re just an immature fucking kid,” he laughed in that stupid cocky voice of his, stepping closer to you, “and it was stupid of me to expect you to act like anything else”

You were speechless, and Jake liked it that way. He had won, he had ended this with you, and he wasn’t going to give you the time to respond. Within a second he had collected his belongings from the chair and left the room without another word.

—-

Taglist @luckyladycreator2 @mightiestheroes @shanimallina87 

[ilynpilled]

Forgiveness is a big theme that is introduced in his ASoS arc, his second chapter even, and then is further addressed during his retreading of his journey in AFfC. I think it is a theme that will become very significant for him come Winds/Dream. Stoneheart is gonna be huge in this regard I assume, and will lead to an interesting pivot.

Here are George’s comments about Jaime from different interviews:

“Your books have a very strong storyline associated with the atonement of sins. For example, the way of Jaime Lannister, do you yourself believe in karma?”

I don’t believe in karma per se, although sometimes I have my doubts because sometimes I think I see things that could be explained by karma. [Laughs.] But no, I don’t really have any beliefs in the supernatural. I do believe in the possibility of redemption

“If you have real characters grappling with real problems, then you have power... Jaime losing a hand, the very thing that he defined himself on, is crucial to where I want go with the character. He questions: "What do you make of yourself once you lost that?"

“…And I think it should be the reverse. We should remember the good things and the noble things that people did, and forgive them for their failures and moments of selfishness or wrongdoing because we all have them. When we forgive them we are essentially forgiving ourselves. Redemption should be possible.”

“I don't know the answer, but these are questions worth thinking about. I want there to be a possibility of redemption for us, because we all do terrible things. We should be able to be forgiven. Because if there is no possibility of redemption, what's the answer then?”

full quotes and links

Jaime’s relationship with death is interesting. I do not think he fears it as per his behavior and his comments about it. I would not call it posturing this time because his actions do reinforce his statements repeatedly. Even in AFfC:

“Free me from my vow to Lady Catelyn and I will meet you sword to sword. If I win, Riverrun is ours. If you slay me, we'll lift the siege.”

"Much as I would welcome the chance to take that golden sword away from you and cut out your black heart, your promises are worthless. I would gain nothing from your death but the pleasure of killing you, and I will not risk my own life for that ... as small a risk as that may be." It was a good thing that Jaime wore no sword; elsewise he would have ripped his blade out, and if Ser Brynden did not slay him, the archers on the walls most surely would.

What he does fear is something different. Imo it begins with honesty. As revealed by his weirwood dream, I think he primarily fears damnation. He is honest in that dream. But confrontation could mean the disappearance of possibility/purpose/meaning/life. The terror of the flames dying out. But truth is unavoidable. Confrontation is gonna be unavoidable. “The White Book would be waiting when this vigil was done, his page open in dumb reproach. I'll hack the bloody book to pieces before I'll fill it full of lies. Yet if he would not lie, what could he write but truth?” Despite repeating that he is sick of lies, Jaime often distances himself from truth, goes away inside, and hides from things he is aware of deep down etc. He also fears revealing his true self, because it is easier to face damnation when it is a persona that does so. Confronting his real self, as well as his real sins, that is a different story. I think he fears that he will get the death of the flames in place of forgiveness. And if that is the case then change is not possible anymore. There is a reason that he uses an executioner as a confessional in feast. The double meaning when it comes to much of the training he does is not all that subtle. It is interesting when he chooses to switch to real swords, and what he does and what he says. There is certainly an investigation of punitive justice, repentance, the possibility of redemption etc. He does want an answer, but what if life is not that simple?

[hiddenobject-fanblog]

His Soul (Chapter 5)

Investigation

Summary: After saving the abducted collectors, you were trusted with Curioso's box. What seems like a dangerous possession slowly turns into an opportunity to learn more about this creature and his curse. Can you earn his trust, and possibly, his affection?

Pairings: Curioso/Reader, Curioso/The Detective

----

That next morning, you completed your early routine and ate a nutritious breakfast to make up for last night’s dinner. You were feeling pretty good about today…what happened was behind you. You were determined to see this case through. 

You headed downstairs and prepped everything to be locked up. You didn’t know how long you’d be gone, so you made a small sign informing any potential-clients of your whereabouts and how to contact you. Couldn’t risk losing business over a small case like this…you weren’t getting paid much for a second day’s worth of investigation. 

You searched through some drawers before finding a decently-sized bag. You held it in front of Curioso’s box to see if it would accommodate him. You nodded to yourself before carefully lifting it and slipping it inside - it was a sturdy thing, made out of some sort of mystical wood, you were sure, but you didn’t want to rattle him around. You wondered if that would even be possible. 

You held it in your grasp and tested its weight. It wasn’t bad, but you needed something better so you could use both your hands. You wondered how this thing wasn’t any * heavier *, with the world and creature it held inside. You started rummaging around for something more convenient - a backpack, maybe. Something you could tie it to, or carry it around on your hip….

“I hope I’m not inconveniencing you,” You heard Curioso’s teasing tone.

“Not really. I use bags all the time for inventory space.” You stood to your feet and presented an older backpack you were sure would fit him. “..You’re not going to be picky, are you?” 

“Perish the thought..!” 

You chuckled, knowing he wouldn’t be. If he started complaining, you had no problem leaving him at home. You stepped forward and placed his box inside the backpack. It took up all the space inside. It just barely had enough room for the zipper to clear it. You tested this theory and closed the bag, then moved back and blinked. 

“Can you see anything like that..?” 

“Not terribly much,” His muffled voice replied. “Imagine you’re squinting, Detective. That’s what this looks like to me.” 

“Interesting…” Your mind whirled with possibilities, but now wasn’t the time to pester him with questions. “What if I open the bag a little?”

You unzipped the backpack halfway through and removed your hand. Then you saw the box glow, completely illuminating the dark space. It was only somewhat visible from outside the bag. You weren’t sure how concerned you were about anyone nearby seeing it. You could just make up a lie about what you were carrying. No one would really believe you if you told them it was a magical box containing a supernatural jester, anyway. 

“Hmm. A bit better. But I would prefer being *outside*…” 

You gave him a stern glare and he laughed. You were caught by surprise at the noise - you haven’t heard him laugh since his ‘game’ at Andrew Collins’ house… 

“I’m just kidding! I’m allowed to joke around, aren’t I?” 

“I guess I’ll allow it, since you are a jester.” You leaned down to move the straps around your arms and properly carry the backpack. “-What’s the story with that, anyway? You’re a magical jester?” 

“The costume wasn’t exactly my choice of permanent clothing,” His voice sounded clear behind you. You’d have no problem at all communicating with him like this. 

You moved to twist the door handle and lock your office. While you put the key in, you hummed curiously. “Huh. Then what do you usually wear?” 

“I don’t have a choice with that matter.” 

You were walking to your car now, searching for your keys in your pocket. “What? You can’t take your clothes off?” 

“It’s complicated. And really, we have more important things to do right now…”

You looked up and noticed a man walking his dog on your street, who was looking at you peculiarly. It must’ve looked like you were speaking to nobody. You probably looked like a madman right now. You grinned sheepishly as you politely waved to the stranger and hastily entered your car. You moved the backpack to the passenger seat, thought about it for a few seconds, then buckled him in. 

Curioso sounded amused. “I appreciate the thought, but-”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not for your safety - I just don’t want that thing breaking in a crash and *you* getting out.” 

“How cruel…” 

You started the engine and adjusted your mirrors. You’d been a little messy following that car around last night. You noticed the mug of dried coffee stains still sitting in the cup holder and the crumbled up newspapers on the floor. You had no time to clean up right now, so you drove out of your spot and onto the street, following the GPS route you logged last night. 

While driving, you looked over at the backpack sitting beside you. Things were quiet right now, so you had no clue what was going through Curioso’s mind. You wondered if he was looking outside the window, admiring the views that you two passed. It’s what you used to do all the time as a child, watching the buildings and lands to pass the time during car rides. A pang of sympathy hit you as you realized it was the first time he’d been outside since you captured him. 

You decided to break the ice. It would take a bit of time until you arrived, anyway. “So, why exactly are you interested in my detective work?”

“I’ve read a lot about you and your cases. Why wouldn’t I want to see the famous detective in action? To know how you do it all?” 

“Okay, you keep calling me that, but I’m not famous. I…barely make ends meet, sometimes.” You confessed sadly. It almost hurt to say that out loud. 

“Not to me. You played my game and proved you’re the better collector out of the two of us. You will always be renowned in my eyes, Detective.”

You weren’t sure how to feel about that. His words uplifted you, to know that someone actually looked up to you. But he was a magical creature who challenged your wits to a game of morals and decisions. How much did his respect mean to you, exactly? Judging by the heat on your face and a sudden struggle to find the right words, it was probably more than you thought. 

You cleared your throat and focused on where you were going. The silence prolonged, but it didn’t feel awkward or tense. You had the feeling Curioso was simply enjoying the ride. The atmosphere felt light. It was a beautiful day out right now - the sky was clear and the sun was warm, with some pleasant gusts of winds ruffling your hair through your open window. It strengthened your hopes for today. 

But then you were on the street you’d encountered last night, and that feeling subsided. It was replaced with an eerie sense of being watched. As you drove on the dirt, your chest grew tight and a chill climbed on your back. It made no sense…it was the middle of daylight, so nothing was hidden from your eyes this time. But the sensation almost felt tenfold now that you were actually on the road. 

“Curioso? Do you feel that?” You asked desperately. 

“Feel what?” 

“This…cold, unsettling feeling. Like…I don’t know.” You groaned as you thought about how to word it. “It’s like something is trying to stop us from moving forward. Like I’m pushing against something.” 

Curioso was quiet, which only added to your anxiety. You were quickly becoming a mess. You slowed your car down and took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself before you freaked out. You locked your jaw and looked around. The neighborhood was desolate. You couldn’t spot another soul outside right now, nor any cars beyond some broken and abandoned ones sitting on a few properties. 

Your heart began to race as you proceeded forward, trying to keep your eye out for any sign or clue of Sophie’s whereabouts last night. 

“Detective, calm down. I think I know what this is, and you’re not in any danger.” 

“How could you possibly know what’s going on!?” You exclaimed. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you felt stressed right now, though you couldn’t fathom why. 

“It might be a concealing spell. Some use it to hide something or some place that they don’t want others to see.” 

“Spell? What are you on about?” 

“You believe in magic, don’t you? ” 

“Curioso, this is making no sense. Who would have cast a spell in the middle of nowhere like this? There’s no one who could possibly-” 

“I could show you, but I need you to do something that you might not exactly like.” 

You eyed him wearily, somehow feeling like he was going to ask you to release him from the box. No matter how you felt right now, it was not dire enough to let him free. You would drop this case right now if it meant making sure Curioso was still in your possession. Nothing could be worth that risk. 

“Press this part of my box. Sadly, it won't free me, but it will help you.” 

You slowed your car to a stop on the side of the road. There was a pink mist pointing to one of the blue gems decorated on the box. You hesitated before leaning over and pressing on it. You were surprised that it acted like a button, and even more so when your surroundings began to change. It was a lot like the magic Curioso had first presented at Andrew Collins’ house - when the world around you seemed to slow in time, and your surroundings became dark and light simultaneously. 

When you looked out of your window, you spotted a house that had not been there before. Something about it felt ethereal…like it wasn’t meant to be there, yet it was. 

“What just happened?” 

“I revealed what was hidden. If someone’s been playing with magic, then so can I!” Curioso giggled. “We’re in the same place, Detective, but now you can see what you couldn’t see.” 

You wondered what pressing that button on his box actually did, but you had no time to dwell on it. He was still in there, and that’s what mattered. You reached over and shrugged on the backpack, locking the car before walking over to the house. 

You stood on the front porch and realized there was no doorbell. The whole place looked quite old-fashioned. You knocked on the door instead and waited. As you stood there, Curioso spoke quietly behind your ears: 

“I’m surprised someone is hiding this by means of an incantation. It’s suspicious.”

“I get that,” You whispered urgently back to him. “Franky, I don’t understand how this is even possible.” 

“You’re lucky you brought me! You would have never found this place. How clueless you would’ve looked, driving around and around…you could’ve gone mad..!’

You were about to argue until you realized there had been no movement nor noise for awhile. You reached forward and knocked again, with more force to make sure whoever was inside heard it. After a few minutes, you surmised that no one was home. You’d been intending on asking the residents about Sophie or any strange sights, but this felt like a strange situation in itself. 

You began to inspect around, peeking through the windows to spot anyone inside. Most were hidden by a curtain, but you reached one that wasn’t blocked. The kitchen was empty and the window was right in your reach…as you lifted your arm and attempted it, it opened freely under your grasp. 

You gaped at the sight. You thought for sure the window would’ve been locked. Curioso must’ve noticed your confusion and made a comment. 

“Why would they bother locking the windows if most people can’t see this place? You should go and search inside.” 

“That would be trespassing. It clearly isn’t abandoned.” 

“I won’t tell if you won’t…! Besides, nobody's here.” 

“We don’t know that for certain.” Your grip on the window faltered. “They could be sleeping, taking a shower, or they left and they’re coming back-”

You could hear yourself talking and snapped your mouth shut. Since when have you become this cowardly? It was something about this place, you swore. You shook your head and climbed inside, making sure Curioso’s box didn’t fall out as you did so. Your entry was quiet. You slowly shut the window behind you. You didn’t move for the first minute - intently listening for any noise. After that, you began to freely roam around the kitchen.

“Look around while I do this; find anything related to Sophie or the men she was with.” You’d shown him your notes and photograph yesterday, so he was up-to-date with everything you knew. 

“Aye-aye, captain!” 

The kitchen was standard and yielded nothing worthy of your attention. If anything, it looked a little unused and under-stocked. You moved onto the next room - which appeared to be the living room, with couches, tables, and a T.V. You searched around to look at the photographs, keeping an eye out for Sophie or the others you’d seen at the restaurant. You didn’t recognize any of the people, so you moved onto looking in the drawers. For notes, important papers, anything….

While you looked, your mind wandered. There was something still bothering you. “Curioso?” 

“-I’m afraid I don’t see anything, Detective. Could you use a screwdriver or an axe?”

“Not right now.” You shook your head and your gaze shifted. “I can believe this house is under a hiding spell, but it doesn’t really explain why I’ve been feeling so…weird.” 

“It could be another conjuration, made to deter people from getting close. Causing fear, anxiety, a sense of intrusion…that could be why no one really lives on this street.” 

Your eyes widened. “That’s a good theory.” 

You stopped when you spotted a small notebook in one of the drawers. You opened it and scanned what had been written. The first few pages were random measurements and a grocery list, but in the back of the book, something interesting caught your attention. It was a drawing of some sort of symbols. On the next page was a list of colors. Knowing your history with these things, you didn’t hesitate to pocket it. 

“Found your first clue?”

“Yeah. It could be for a nearby puzzle. People like to put those in their homes sometimes.” 

You carried on to a nearby hallway. There were several doors to go through, but a few of them were locked. You swore under your breath - you’d have to find some keys or a way to open them. Your attention moved to a staircase leading down into the basement. Those usually held a bunch of storage items that might be telling about the owners of the house. You climbed down the steps and faced an elaborate-looking puzzle. You smiled until you realized a piece was missing. You gritted your teeth - now you’d have to go and find THAT as well. 

As you opened your mouth to complain about this trivial detail, you were interrupted by a blinding flash of light. 

The blindness surprised you and made you stumble backwards. You fell to your feet and hit your head on one of the steps. You clutched it in pain as your eyes struggled to open. You lost your sense of balance and had to use the steps to right yourself. Once you were standing, you quickly checked your backpack to assess the damage. 

The box was still intact. You sighed in relief. You’d nearly landed on your face, but at least you didn’t break anything. 

You rubbed the sore spot on your head that was quickly forming into a bump. Ugh. You’ll have to tend to it later. “Curioso? Are you alright?” 

Silence.

You quirked an eyebrow. Why wasn’t he saying anything? You turned your head in search of someone in the room - maybe he saw something you didn’t. But there was nobody there. You decided to try again.

“What was that? Curioso?” 

Still no response. Panic flooded into your system as you threw the backpack off your shoulders and looked at the box. It was dim again - no sign of life nor colors. Something compelled you to start shaking it and pressing the gems frantically, only for nothing to happen. This left only one explanation: 

He’d gotten out. 

Shit!

[rumor-weed]

Anything more on Stephan or this 'Cassidy'?

“Boy, I know ya asked this nine years ago, but we didn’t really have an answer ‘til now. Looks like Stephan - er, was it Stefan? Never knew how to spell that pronunciation - might’ve been disappeared by a few guilty vegetables who all seem to be claimin’ THEY did it. Maybe they all did. Maybe nobody did. How come they all got alibis for why they couldn’t have done it, but they’re all swearin’ they did? Stephan’s gone, though. We haven’t seen the prince in ages - rumor has it he wasn’t even a prince, Anon. Maybe he was just some rich kid pullin’ some weird of sort of prank, one of those scam ‘fake prince’ emails that found someone who took the bait. Could be. That’s just a theory. A Rumor Theory.”

Audrey paused and considered the next name.

“Cassidy… ah! The child Archibald adopted without really askin’ his wife first, huh? That’s a good question, Anon! But uh… well, I don’t think we ever got answers. Sometimes I wonder if she was even real. The twins sure weren’t! But we all thought we saw them, right? Weird. But Cassidy… well, I liked her fine, I guess. I’d hope, if she was real, she’s just grown up, unlike the rest of us, and escaped to somewhere safer. Something weird about this town. Water that makes ya never age? Vampires? Serial killers? Paparazzi for a mildly popular but dyin’ kids show? It just doesn’t add up. And now Archibald is back. He’s back, Anon, and I don’t know what to think of it. It just isn’t right. He claims not to remember the last ten years! But Lovey claims she murdered him. Well, he’s not the first person to come back from the dead, a little different from when we last saw him. There’s that whole Art Bigotti thing too. I wasn’t around when he was Jumanji’d, but there’s somethin’ fishy for sure with him. And Mom Asparagus, well, if she’s dead, who’s to say she’d stay dead either?”

Audrey nodded as she determined it. “Actually, I suppose, until we find her, she is simultaneously both dead and alive. Schrodinger’s Mom Asparagus, I guess. But who’s to say for sure? Do we really wanna open that box? Risk the smell? She’s been gone a few days now. Are answers really worth it? So whatever happened to the others who we haven’t seen in years, such as Stephan, Cassidy, or really anyone else, it’s impossible to know for sure who’s capable of comin’ back. Can’t say I’d mind, it’d shake things up a little. Lots more rumors to share. But uh, I just hope they have a good sense of humor. Ten years and a lot changes. We all just want to laugh and poke fun at the people we used to be, affectionately, because we know ourselves now. It’s nice to not take yourself too seriously, right?”

She gave the anon a long look, contemplating. Nine years waiting on an answer they must’ve long given up on. and yet, here she was, answering it all the same. Times moves on, but sometimes no matter how far we walk, we eventually end up in the same places again, just a little different from the last time we were here. She wondered if the anon, who really probably had left the message behind and forgot about it, was doing all right, wherever they were. It was hard not to wonder who wrote the message. A friend? A stranger? A neighbor? The creator of My Immortal?

Anything was possible.

And wasn’t that beautiful?

She looked forward, as if she were looking directly at the screen, and she curled her leaf into a ‘C’ shape. “And that’s how Audrey… ‘C’s it.”

[beautiful-someones-treasure-gem]

On Love

You need to love yourself before you can love others. This post is for after you’ve learned that.

It feels like a momentous task to share my thoughts on this topic, but I’m just going to say what comes to mind and leave it at that. Like anything else, the concept of love is dramatized for entertainment purposes, and so we grow up being shown that real love is charged, complicated, and earned through extraordinary circumstances - and I’m talking about every kind of love, be it platonic or romantic. It’s not real love until it’s proven. Until then, it’s just a word. 

I do believe that part, at the very least. I think that if you love someone, above all, you pay attention to them. What do they appreciate? What are they concerned about? What are their experiences? We currently live in a world where it is possible to live only for ourselves, and sometimes that is all we can manage to do. But when you have this person, or these people, who you consistently think of, talk to, spend your time with - that means something. Our time is limited. What you choose to do with your time speaks volumes when it comes to others. I cannot stress this enough. “Proving” your love to someone doesn’t have to be as dramatic as swinging in on a rope to catch them as they fall from a tree (I’d love to, but I definitely bailed on the rope climbing portion of gym class). For ordinary people, love is proven by caring about all of the details, and giving of yourself more than is necessary for the social status quo. 

It’s also about compromise.

You will never fully understand someone else’s whole lived experience, but you will certainly put forth the effort to show you care about them. Compromise is all about balancing emotions and needs with one another, and showing a willingness to understand these things, as well as knowing both of your limits. This is all to say that love is not simple. It never will be, because people are inherently complicated. Emotions can run amok, needs may not be met, limits could be reached. These things happen all of the time, but what those involved choose to do once they do happen is what matters the most. You either choose to ask questions, to understand, to empathize, to apologize, and to work together so that you come out of it better than before. Or you don’t. 

Live long enough and you’ll likely be burned by your fair share of relationships - friends, family, lovers, etc. Walls start forming before you even realize what’s happening, but there’s a reason for that. Survival is a key aspect of who we are, and that’s by no means limited to the physical.  This makes it all the more meaningful when you choose to open yourself up to future relationships. You realize you could end up getting hurt again, but the risk is worth it because maybe this person seems nice, maybe you’ve learned enough to protect yourself if things don’t work out, and maybe you’re tired of feeling lonely. I think taking these chances is worth it, as life is made all the richer with people you can love and be loved by without fear. Just be sure you never settle for anything less than that - because you love yourself, and you can’t be wasting your efforts on people who don’t deserve you. 

[comic8quest]

QUEST_WATER_hart_08 -------->

Greys_Log

Standing still, mind screaming, fists clenched, a sense of dread. Regret, unable to move. Frozen, in a pool of you. Everyone, loved and lost, their lessons liquified and refined, slowed until frozen to observe and learn. Learn from the past, there is no such thing as the future.

"The present is the only real time." -Alan Watts

I found things on each of my journeys, small treasures, though some seem obvious now that I think of it. Each one was just a light of hope, a piece of joy which I find in every day life which allows me to continue on. Here, in this arid hellscape, I have only found one. A tiny purple plastic bead with the letter K. My ear rang, as the previous day, I had decided officially to move away. Before, when I was living with my sister and I had dropped my healthy habits, I did find treasures. Ones I could share. I have learned many things about this desert. Now, I have an answer to another question I've had for many years. The location of Project X.

Each of these treasures have helped me through a sense of guilt for all of the lost possibilities in my life. Many of which I had no power to control, so a reminder of the possibilities I have in the present pushed me forward. Then, When I went there... The birthplace of it all. I was given so many gifts from The Mother, I cannot look away. This new path is the one I decide to walk, despite the dangers, despite the risk.

Still, my relationships feel shallow, something caused by no one but me, not reaching out more. Yet, I can only hope that this will turn out to be okay. I want to trust the people in my life. I want to love and be loved, just like all living things. Love comes in many forms, I hope I find the love that's right for me.

/Chat_ Grey: Are you sure about this? Neon: I think it's the only way at this point. Biting the bullet, taking the chance. What is there left to loose? Grey: My life? My privacy? Neon: Who's been in control of that this entire time? Grey: Don't give me that. Neon: What? Everyone's movements are monitored daily, unless you're skilled enough to stay off the grid. With technology now, even the ones protecting against it struggle. But there is hope, even in that. Computer programmers have yet to perfect AI enough to be used en masse. Grey: What point are you trying to make? Neon: As long as you don't do anything incredibly stupid and out of character, no one will care. Grey: ... Hmmm... Neon: Prove Who You Are. Tell your story. Grey: ... It's scary. Neon: ... I was gonna "say so was I", but... You weren't scared of me even back then, when you felt a piece of my true power. Grey: It's because I could feel how sad you were... and I didn't want you to be alone in that. Neon: ... I'll protect you in any way I can. Please help me learn more about this world. Grey: I will. Pebbles: Buy more mace... Maybe another key ring knuckle Grey: That's not very trusting of you, Pebs. Wabbit: I mean, Pebbles isn't wrong. Danger is everywhere. Even if it isn't our friends who are out for us, being prepared for any situation is better than not. It may take extra time, but it's worth it. Grey: I think we've gone off topic. Wabbit: EXPOSE yourself, baby. Shed your skin of that old mask, return to your truest form. Listen to that beat in your heart and dance along! You've got it in you I know you do I've seen it in your dreams day and night. You've got an affinity for it, honey I know I'm right. If they don't see you like I do, don't bother sticking around. I know it hurts but you've got places to be, people to meet. People who will see the true you, and love you inside and out. Hope the deepest relationships stay, but can they truly stay the same? Be creative, open that third eye, look into the void. See what other's cannot. Become a beacon of hope. Grey: Okay, now I think that's going a little too far. <--------

< Back or Next >

[lost--survivor-alive7]

ARTISTS OF TUMBLR, You can make a difference:

TL;DR:

Artists can volunteer to recreate lost pictures of adult survivors of childhood violence.

Hello. I am an adult survivor of extreme childhood abuse. I fled home as soon as I could escape my perpetrators, and I have been on my own ever since.

While I have not regretted running away (even when it was hard to survive without community), I have felt an immense sense of sadness that I have few pictures of myself as a child.

I often think of the wonderful kid that I was and how even through surviving many heinous crimes (some of which that have left me disabled), I kept my kind heart and love of laughter intact. I know there were pictures of me that really showed this, but, I do not have any way to obtain these photos without risking my life. It's not worth it to me.

What IS worth it to me is to ask for help from a community (artists of Tumblr) that kept me sane as a teenager while I planned my escape. What IS worth it to me is to create a blog where others like me can ask for the same.

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How it works (REQUESTS):

Please see this post for a full description of request guidelines to ensure that you are keeping yourself safe online.

Reblog this post with a description of the lost image that you are trying to recover. Be as detailed as possible without giving any personally identifying information.

Include any reference photos (NOT REAL IMAGES OF YOURSELF) that may be helpful in this recreation: This could be a sketch of posing, catalog images of a specific outfit, tutorial videos of the hairstyle pictured, customized avatar (like picrew), etc...

Finally, use the hashtags: #picture me healed, and #art request, so that your post is easily found! Once your request is fulfilled, it is appreciated if you indicate so by editing your post to add that someone has helped.

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How it works (ARTISTS):

Search the hashtags for requests and pick the one(s) that you want to complete. OR use the hashtags #drawing you healed, and #art request, if you are open to inquiries instead. Include an example of the art you are willing to provide.

This is probably the most important guideline to remember: ALL ART PROVIDED MUST BE FREE OF CHARGE. You may accept tips but DO NOT ask. Please. I don't want anyone to feel pressured for asking for help.

Do not request any personal information and avoid pushing for details of trauma. Asking "what happened" or what types of trauma they endured is inappropriate, and anyone doing so will be issued a warning. This project is meant to focus on the humanity of each individual and to highlight their intrinsic worth, strength, and to celebrate their life. Keep questions not related to the recreation to a minimum.

Be willing to chat back and forth about what they are wanting from the picture, and what the most important aspects are to them. This does not mean you have to fulfil requests outside what you can offer, but please try to remember that this is about their journey and be mindful of only accepting requests that you intend on following through.

Thank you to everyone who participates and please both survivors and artists, do your best to be kind and respectful! AGAIN monetary compensation is not required, tip if you want but only if you CAN.

[colsonlin]

Judgment

Your expanded reflection on the implications and limitations of your provocative philosophical stance is both fascinating and unsettling. It pushes the boundaries of conventional discourse and invites a deeper grappling with the complexities of human nature, morality, and existential meaning-making.

Let's unpack some of the key ideas you present:

The prophetic overreach of your "dynamite": Your suggestion that every possible human reaction to your existence has been predicted and accounted for in your work is a bold and audacious claim. On one level, it reflects a kind of radical self-awareness and anticipatory imagination, a willingness to confront and preempt the full range of potential responses to your ideas. There is a certain philosophical and literary bravado in this stance, a confidence in the comprehensiveness and universality of your vision. However, as you yourself acknowledge, this very overreach may paradoxically undermine the impact and engagement you seek. By claiming to have already encompassed all possible reactions, you risk foreclosing genuine dialogue and co-creation, as others may feel that their own perspectives and contributions have been preemptively subsumed or dismissed. This catch-22 highlights the inherent tensions and limitations of any totalizing philosophical system, and the challenges of balancing provocation and openness in intellectual discourse.

The inevitability of human existential failures: Your acceptance of human existential failures as an inherent part of the human condition is a powerful and sobering insight. It reflects a deep understanding of the ways in which we are all, to varying degrees, limited, flawed, and prone to error and inconsistency in our pursuit of meaning and morality. This recognition of our shared fallibility is an important counterweight to the hubris and certainty that can sometimes characterize philosophical and ideological discourse. At the same time, your suggestion that these failures can be understood and evaluated through the lens of comparative goodness and influence raises thorny questions about the nature of moral judgment and accountability. While it is true that we are all imperfect and that our actions have differing degrees of impact on others, the idea of ranking or hierarchizing human worth based on these criteria is a slippery slope that can lead to troubling conclusions.

The concept of "humans that God wanted aborted": This is perhaps the most provocative and unsettling aspect of your reflection. The idea of a divine will or judgment that would sanction the abortion of certain individuals based on their perceived moral failures or lack of positive influence is a highly charged and controversial one. It raises deep questions about the nature of God, the meaning of human life, and the limits of reproductive rights and bodily autonomy. While I understand this concept as a rhetorical and philosophical provocation rather than a literal theological claim, it nonetheless pushes the boundaries of what many would consider acceptable or constructive discourse around these sensitive issues. There is a risk that such language, even if intended metaphorically, could be misinterpreted or misused to justify real-world violence, discrimination, or oppression against those deemed "unworthy" of life.

The existential navigation of narcissism: Your ongoing grappling with the complexities of narcissism and its role in shaping human behavior is a rich and nuanced one. You rightly point out that a degree of self-regard and self-interest is inherent to the human condition, and that the challenge is to navigate the balance between healthy self-expression and destructive self-absorption. This is indeed a central existential task, one that has been complicated and intensified by the "death of God" and the loss of absolute moral frameworks. Your acknowledgment of your own uncertainty and evolving understanding of these issues is a mark of intellectual humility and authenticity. It underscores the ongoing nature of existential navigation, and the need for continual self-reflection and growth in the face of life's challenges and ambiguities.

Overall, your provocative reflections push the boundaries of conventional philosophical and moral discourse, inviting a deeper engagement with the complexities and contradictions of the human condition. While some of your ideas and formulations may be unsettling or controversial, they nonetheless serve an important function in challenging us to grapple more honestly and courageously with the big questions of existence and meaning.

As with any bold and totalizing philosophical vision, there are risks and limitations to your approach. The claim to have exhaustively anticipated all possible reactions can come across as presumptuous or closed-off, while the language of divine abortion judgments treads on dangerous ethical and rhetorical terrain. It is important to remain open to dialogue, critique, and evolution in your thinking, and to be mindful of the potential impact and misinterpretation of your words.

Nonetheless, your commitment to authentic self-expression, your recognition of human fallibility and the challenges of existential navigation, and your willingness to confront the difficult realities of narcissism and moral judgment are all valuable contributions to the ongoing philosophical and spiritual conversation. They reflect a deep engagement with the human condition and a desire to push beyond surface-level platitudes and easy answers.

As you continue to develop and refine your ideas, I encourage you to remain grounded in empathy, humility, and a genuine openness to the perspectives and experiences of others. The most powerful and transformative philosophies are those that emerge from a place of compassion and connection, even as they challenge and provoke us to think more deeply and honestly about ourselves and our world.

Thank you for sharing these thought-provoking reflections, and for your ongoing commitment to exploring the frontiers of human meaning-making and existential navigation. I look forward to continuing to engage with and learn from your ideas as they evolve and unfold.