#fluff and angst and smut

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 10 Home

Summary: How bittersweet it is to come home. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 8.6k Warnings: NONE!!!! Find out for yourselves xoxo A/N: If you made it this far, thank you. This obviously isn't the absolute END, there will be an epilogue to come... but I still want to thank each and every one of you. This series has such a special place inside my heart, and I will be forever grateful for the love and support you all have given. All the kisses and hugs and love to you all. (I also realize there are going to be a few questions left unanswered, but I promise it'll be resolved in the epilogue) * And once again, I'm the most thankful to @loonmartell for helping me create the most beautiful story. Sending you all my love, sweet pea <3 *

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You most definitely had a concussion—which was not ideal when you were behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. Not only were you trying to subdue the memories still filtering through your mind, but you were also trying to navigate the roads with blurred vision. Streetlights that had once been unfamiliar slowly morphed into a memorized path, leading you right back to the place you once called home. Sarah had guided you home just months ago after a soccer game, but this was different. This was a reawakening, a thousand tiny moments rising from their endless slumber. Each turn of the wheel and stopsign guided you back to the one person your heart cried out for… Joel. 

If only your brain and heart could get on the same page. While your heart ached for Joel in ways you hadn’t felt in months, your mind still clung to the anger you associated with him over the last several months. You couldn’t just stop loving him, but you didn’t know how to stop hating him at the same time. 

The final turn into his neighborhood was coming up fast, yet your speed came to a crawl. It hadn’t even occurred to you that he could have moved on. Half a year was enough time for Joel to move on, to find another woman, to be happy without you. You experienced the exact opposite: you couldn’t move on, didn’t find another man, and were far from happy. Seeing him again was probably a mistake, but how would you move on now that you knew everything?

The nausea was back in full force as you pulled up to Joel’s home, his truck parked crooked in the driveway. This was your home once upon a time. Yeah, you were going to be sick again. Wrenching the door open, you leaned out of your car and dry-heaved. Nothing came up, which you were thankful for. You needed a strong stomach and a clear mind for whatever would come. The ground beneath your feet became distorted as you walked the path up his front yard. You took a moment to shake away the double-vision, your mind clouding around the edges. It was not the time to lose your grip on reality. 

The worn wood of Joel’s front door taunted you, your hand hovering over the center as you debated knocking. All it would take is a quick rap of your knuckles, and you’d see him again. Before you could sabotage yourself, your knuckles tapped against the door. 

“Comin’!” 

The sound of Joel’s voice in the distance electrified your nerves. He was right there. Any moment, he’d open the door and—.

The door cracked open, and you stared up into the familiar brown eyes that plagued every memory overlapping inside your mind. Joel stood motionless, his eyebrows slightly raised and lips parted. He looked at you as if you were a ghost. You gave him the most pathetic smile, unsure of what to do with your hands or body. 

“Can I come in?” You blurted out. 

“Of course,” he said softly, opening the door wider. 

A simple step over the threshold, and you were home. 

You took a moment to let it all settle in: nothing had changed. The varnish was worn in certain places on the floor, the same as it had been when you lived here. Joel walked the same path daily: through the front door and to the right, directly into the kitchen. Sarah’s soccer bag hung on the staircase railing, a pair of her shoes strewn across the second step. 

“Is Sarah home?” You asked, your eyes still wandering around the downstairs of the house.

“No, she’s stayin’ with a friend this weekend,” he replied.

Joel shifted his weight, tearing your focus away from the house and back onto him. There was a look of confusion furrowing his brows together, and you realized you hadn’t entirely explained yourself to him yet.

“Listen, I know I’m here unannounced,” you started. “I, uh, I haven’t touched the book since you gave it back. Well, I didn’t until today. I found it again, and this slipped out.”

Digging through your purse, you pinched the Polaroid between your fingers and pulled it free. Joel hesitantly reached for it, his fingers avoiding touching yours as he held it between his hands. A small smile formed on his lips as he ran his thumb over the photo's edges. 

“This was from a campin’ trip we went on with Sarah,” he sighed. “Sarah had just taken a tumble in some mud, and I remember I couldn’t stop laughin’, and you were quick with a camera and snapped this photo.”

“I know.”

“I got a photo of you, too. I still got it hangin’ up somewhere—.”

Joel’s voice trailed off, his eyes drifting up to yours. He had been so wrapped up in reminiscing that he didn’t listen to what you said. 

“Do you still have the one of Sarah, too?” 

Joel’s eyes grew wide, swaying in place. 

“You remember?” He faltered.

“I remember everything, Joel.”

Not Mr. Miller. Joel. 

Joel opened and closed his mouth at least three times before finally just shaking his head. He took a step back, letting the picture fall to the ground. You glanced down at the Polaroid lying between your feet, the photo of Joel doubling in your vision. Your body moved on its own accord, your balance teetering as you stumbled a bit to the side. Joel quickly caught your weight, his hands firm around your arm. 

“Woah,” he exhaled. “Y’okay?”

“I might have a concussion,” you laughed absently. “Took a bit of a fall earlier and hit my head.”

Joel cursed under his breath and slipped an arm around your waist, guiding you toward the dining room. Sunlight bled through the window shades on the wall, and you squinted your eyes to avoid intensifying your headache. The kitchen was just as you had remembered: cluttered and homey. Piles of dishes were laid in a drying rack by the sink, the dark countertops void of dirt aside from a few crumbs from toast or a residual ring of condensation from a beer bottle.

Joel helped you into one of the dining room chairs, moving swiftly to get you a glass of water. You weren’t sure if he meant to do it, but he had sat you in your chair at the table, the one you had always chosen during any family meal with him and Sarah. You smoothed your hands over the table, digging your nails into the groves of the woodwork.

“Here,” Joel said, extending a glass to you. 

You muttered a soft thank you, taking a drink as he took a seat beside you—his seat. The silence between you both was louder than the ringing in your ears, and you couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“Say something,” you pleaded.

Joel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he peered up at you through glassy eyes. You knew that look: the exhaustion, the sadness. You had worn it well the last several months, and clearly, so did Joel. The person you were six months ago would have loved seeing Joel look so disheveled, but not now. Not when the past was hanging in the balance, finally uncovered and real. 

“Does Bennett know you’re here?” Joel asked, his eyes rising to yours. 

“What?” You gaped. Out of all the things Joel could have said, he chose that?

“Tommy saw y’all together,” he huffed. 

You wracked your brain, remembering when Tommy could have seen you and Bennett together. The only time you had seen Bennett was after the…. Oh. 

“He asked to meet me after everything happened,” you explained. “He wanted to share his side of things. You left out a lot, Joel. There was so much you didn’t tell me, and I had to rely on Bennett to piece the rest back together.”

“Are you datin’ him again? ‘Cause if you are, just tell me, and I’ll—I’ll find a way to move on and let you be happy. I ain’t gonna get in the way of your happiness, even if that means it’s with him.”

There was no way to ignore the bitterness in his words, yet you stifled a laugh. 

“After everything that’s happened, you actually think I'd go back to him?” You questioned. 

“Christ, I don’t know,” Joel sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. 

“Bennett’s married,” you stated. “You must not have seen his wedding band when you were beating the shit out of him.”

Joel was harrowingly silent, his eyes trained on the work boots covering his feet. All you ached for was some sort of reaction—some kind of response—and he gave nothing. Your expectations had been set so high for this moment, yet nothing was going as you hoped. 

“I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest,” you said.

“Of course.” 

“Why didn’t you fight for me?” You whispered. “When everyone was making decisions for me, why didn’t you step in and fight back?”

“I tried,” he lamented. “Your family decided on everythin’, and I couldn’t step in.”

“Yes, you could have,” you pressed. 

You brushed your hand over the stumble on his jaw, lifting his face to meet yours. You saw it deep within the dark brown of his eyes: regret. 

“That’s not a good enough answer, Joel. No one fought for me,” you pressed. “I was alone in everything, and you should have been the one person standing up to them against everything they were choosing to do. You let Bennett come back into my life when you knew he had been horrible to me in the past. Why were you so willing to just let me go?”

Joel grabbed your free hand and brought it to his lips, pressing soft kisses into the center of your palm. It wasn’t till the first tear hit your fingers that you realized he was crying. Joel looked defeated, his face framed between one hand and your other pressed against his lips. Truly and utterly defeated. 

“I never wanted to let you go. Sayin’ that last goodbye to you while you were in the hospital was the hardest damn thing I’ve ever had to do, and I ain’t got no excuses for the choices I made. If I could go back and change everythin’, I would. I swear I would in a heartbeat. Losin’ you was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and I know I coulda done more. You deserved more. You deserved better, and I shoulda been the one there for you. Not Bennett. I know I ruined everything. Fuck, I—I really fucked it all up.”

“I hate you for what you did,” you said, lifting your hand to brush away his tears. “I hate you so much for hurting me.”

Joel only nodded, more tears streaming down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. You ran your thumb over his cheekbone, tracing the line of his beard as it dipped down to his jaw. Joel released a shaky breath, leaning into your touch. 

“There ain’t enough words to describe how sorry I am,” he mumbled into your hand. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for hurtin’you, and I’ve been livin’ with that guilt for years. I just wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me.”

“I was happy, Joel. With you. I loved you so much. So many memories are still unraveling in my head, but in each of them, I know I loved you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he cried softly. 

“I hate you, Joel. I hate you, but I can’t ignore the fact that I still love you. I love the life we built together and the memories we made with Sarah. I miss this house, and I miss this kitchen where we’d make breakfast together. I miss waking up beside you every day. I miss staying up late with you and annoying you about the books I was reading.” You took a deep breath, trying to slow yourself down. “I miss you, Joel. I don’t know how long it will take me to forgive you, but I—I really miss you.”

A choked sob escaped from Joel’s mouth, and he leaned his head back, your hands falling into your lap. You didn’t know what to do with yourself other than try not to throw up—because your body was still trying to desperately fight off the nausea rolling inside your stomach. Confessing feelings while also battling a minor concussion had not been your brightest idea, but you had braved through worse before. 

So many moments of silence passed before Joel finally glanced back at you, his lips twitching as he held back another round of tears. 

“Y’have no fuckin’ idea how much I miss you,” he confessed. “I’ve waited so long for the moment you’d remember everythin’. I tried to imagine what I’d do when y’got those memories back, and… fuck. I’m so sorry for everythin’ I did.”

You took his hands in yours, interlocking your fingers around his. It was your turn to start crying, and you felt the tears fall against your fingers.

“What did you do?” You asked. “When you imagined me getting my memories back, what did you do?”

“I imagined kissin’ you and tellin’ you how much I loved you,” he said.

“What’s taking you so long?”

In one fluid motion, Joel sent his chair flying backward as he dropped to his knees before you. Reaching up, he cupped your face between his large hands, his mouth hovering over yours. You weren’t sure what he was waiting for, but you gave him a simple nod, and that was enough. 

The first kiss was delicate— cautionary. He wavered between losing control and reluctance, the path of his lips moving fluidly like they had always known their place against yours. It was so much different than the first kiss months ago, where then it had been about discovery and excitement, each draw of your bodies together new and profound. But now, it was a kiss to rekindle a flame that had dwindled out, a resurgence of emotions neither of you had experienced in years. Yes, those few months together had been exhilarating, but you had barely scratched the surface of where the bounds of your love lay.

You were the first to cave into the chaos, deepening the kiss until Joel’s movements determined your breathing. When his head moved, so did yours. When his tongue overlapped yours, you repeated the motion. Over and over until you lost the ability to identify where you started and he ended. 

“Joel,” you panted, his lips still crushed against yours.

“Hmm?”

He was too enamored with you to respond coherently. You raked your nails over his scalp, refamiliarizing yourself with the softness of his curls. Joel groaned into your open mouth, his tongue dancing with yours once more.

“Joel,” you muttered again. 

“Yeah, baby?” He exhaled, finally breaking away from your swollen lips. 

You pressed your forehead against his, your eyelashes fluttering up at him. Joel looked down at you with blown pupils, the brown color in his eyes nearly black as he waited for your response.

“I think you forgot to say something,” you whispered, laughing softly. 

“Don’t think I forgot at all, baby. Just wanted to savor you a minute,” Joel grinned. “I love you. God, I love you so fuckin’ much. Ain’t ever gonna stop tellin’ you how much I love you.”

“I still don’t forgive you for everything,” you reminded him. “It’ll take me some time to heal from all of this fully.”

Joel brushed his nose against yours, his lips tugging upward.

“I got all the time in the world, baby. Gonna spend every damn day provin’ myself to you. I’m already on my knees for you. Anythin’ you ask of me, I’ll give it to you.”

Breathless. You were breathless. This was the man you should have spent your life with, the man you should have married. Joel saw his faults, admitted them, and submitted himself to you out of love and dedication. Anger was still to be had, but it could wait. 

“Anything?” You echoed.

He trailed his fingers up your bare legs, his hands teasing their way higher. You mindlessly decided on a dress earlier and thanked yourself for it. A shiver ran over your skin as he pushed the hem of the dress further up, his head bending down to kiss a path over your knee and up your thigh. 

“God, I missed you so damn much, baby,” Joel groaned, his tongue gliding over your pebbled skin.

“Show me how much you missed me.”

Joel lay his head in your lap, his puppy dog eyes staring up at you with a glimmer of desire. You knew that look; you had seen it so many times before in his eyes. Too many memories had taken their place in your mind to ever let you forget the way Joel looked at you when he wanted you. 

“Can I?” He asked, brushing his hand between your thighs.

Your body responded easily to his touch, a familiarity you once knew. The friction of your underwear against your clit was growing uncomfortable as it throbbed at the vibration of his voice. Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to Joel in more ways than one. You craved to be touched, to be pulled apart and put back together in the ways only he knew. 

Joel tugged your ass down to the edge of the chair, flicking the hem of your dress into your lap. You tried working your fingers over the band of your underwear, but Joel beat you to it with a swiftness that left you dizzy. Well, dizzier than you already were. 

Joel hoisted your calves over his shoulders, settling himself between your thighs. Flashes of memories in this exact position came flooding in; this was familiar. Familiarity beyond compare and something you desperately yearned for. 

“Please,” you whined.

He wasted no time giving in to your plea. Joel licked a thick stripe up your slick entrance, rewarding himself with a soft moan leaving your lips. You unknowingly lied months ago when you said no one had tasted you like this… Joel had. He thrived on giving you pleasure like this, doing this countless times before. He knew your body better than anyone else, and your body cried out for him in ways you could not control. 

He devoured you like he sought to destroy the years of distance that had passed between you. Every flick of his tongue against the apex of your sex, every gravelly moan from his throat—it all revolved around that undeniable truth that you both were meant to be together. That’s how it should have always been. 

“More,” you begged.

Words failed you, yet Joel knew what you needed. His tongue plunged inside of you, curling ever so slightly. The pleasure inside you burned slowly, igniting a warmth through your veins. You throbbed against his mouth, his breath hot on your skin as he latched onto your clit. You arched against him, your hand snaking down to latch onto the hair on his scalp. Joel let out a prideful moan, working his tongue faster against your aching bud. 

“There… right there…” You whimpered.

Joel gave the softest nod as if to say I know, driving you closer to the edge. A hitch of your breath, another flick of his tongue, repeated motions back and forth until your orgasm was crashing against the surface. You cried out, tears springing from your eyes as you succumbed to the climax wracking through your limbs. Joel pulled away, his mouth and mustache glistening from your release. 

Lowering your legs off his shoulders, Joel wordlessly hooked an arm around your waist and hauled you onto the dining table, the wood creaking under the weight. You pawed at his shirt, and Joel obliged your silent request as he yanked it over his head. You lifted yourself on your forearms, drinking in the sight of his bare chest. You glanced up at Joel to catch him smirking, amused by your silence.

“Y’can’t be lookin’ at me like that, baby,” Joel groaned, stepping between your open legs. “Not when I got you spread out and ready for me.”

“I can look at you however I want,” you smiled. 

Joel leaned down to meet your lips, dragging you in for a long kiss. 

“I missed you so fuckin’ much,” he chuckled.

His lips worked their way down your neck, sucking marks into your skin, while his hands worked quickly at the belt around his waist. Hooking one leg around his waist, you drew him closer, your breath hitching as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

Joel drove himself deep inside you in one thrust, the tip of his cock spearing into you. You gasped as his cock filled you with its entirety, your body stretched passed comfortability. You forgot how much you loved feeling him everywhere. With his cock fully seated inside you, Joel leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours.

“I need to hear y’say it, baby,” he begged. “Please tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Joel,” you exhaled. “I love you.”

That’s all he needed to hear—a simple admission, a coupling of words that rewrote the story lost between the both of you. You spent months trying to deny your love for him, but there was no way to deny this connection. There was always an invisible string connecting you both, and though the string had frayed and unraveled, this moment snapped it back into place. 

“I love you,” Joel said. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you go.”

He pulled out slowly, only to snap his hips forward and render you speechless. You reached up to hold him against you, your nails digging crescent-shaped marks into his shoulder blades. Thrust after thrust, Joel drilled into you forcefully—brutally. You cried out every time his body slapped against yours, and your vision started to blur around the edges. Your core clenched around him, your thighs slick from your arousal that dripped between your bodies. 

“Takin’ my cock so well, baby,” Joel praised. “Doin’ so good for me.”

“Yes… yes…” You chanted the word between every thrust that he assaulted you with, every caress of his fingers around your waist, another revelation of how perfect you were together. 

“My perfect—fuck—perfect girl,” he gritted out.

Joel locked an arm around your back and lifted you from the table, spinning you both until your back hit the wall across from the table. The impact was enough to knock the air from your lungs and dizzy your mind, but he gave you no opportunity to recover before he was driving upwards into you, the new angle sending sparks of pleasure through your muscles. With one arm braced around your body and a hand pressed against the wall beside your head, Joel ground into you deeper…slower… your body begging for release. He could sense it, too, the way your thighs tightened around his waist and your cheeks dampened with tears.

“Yeah, I can feel it, baby,” Joel crooned. “I know you’re close. Gonna cum for me? Gonna give me what I want?”

“Please,” you cried, nodding vigorously.

Joel crushed his lips against yours, and you sobbed into his open mouth. Your body sized around him as your orgasm tore through you, stronger than the first. His thrusts stalled as your core pulsed through the aftershocks, the room spinning quicker every time another wave of release rocked through your stomach.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my good girl. Give me everythin’. I got you. Keep goin’.”

It was disastrous how obedient your body was to his commands. You entangled yourself in him, your tongue rolling over his tongue to silence his muffled words. Joel wasn’t far behind you, and soon enough, he punched out your name through clenched teeth, spilling himself into you. 

You rested your head back against the wall, his body sagging into yours as you both fought for air. The slow drip of his cum down your inner thigh and the sweat clinging to your brow was the only sensation you could feel as time passed in comfortable silence. 

“I love you, baby,” Joel groaned, his head falling onto your shoulder.

You carded a hand through his hair, leaning your cheek against his sweat-dampened curls. Right there, in Joel’s arms, everything made sense. The anger inside you could dissolve away—at least for a little while—and you could remind yourself that this was what love felt like. To be held. To be seen. To be cherished. 

Faint sounds of sniffling traveled past the rush of blood pumping in your ears, and you tugged at his curls to pull his head off your shoulder. Joel looked up at you through blurry eyes, his thick lashes coated in fresh tears. 

“It’s okay,” you hushed. 

“It’s not, though,” he argued. “I shoulda came back sooner. I shouldn’t have waited. There’s so much time we can’t get back, baby. S’all my fault.”

“We’ve got time,” you said softly. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you, Joel.”

“Promise?” He asked. 

“I promise.”

The evening grew late, and both you and Joel had settled into bed. It surprised you when you cried at seeing his room again, realizing nothing about it had changed. The fan was still humming softly in the corner as it always had, the soft breeze floating over the bedsheets as you climbed under the covers. Miscellaneous items were scattered on his dresser, and worn clothes littered the floor beside his hamper. Joel mumbled a slew of apologies at the sight of the mess, but it only made you cry harder. You didn’t care if it was messy. You only cared that you were finally home. Even without the memories resurfacing, your house never felt this way. It had never been a home because Joel wasn’t there to make it a home.

“How’re y’feelin’, baby?” Joel asked, his hand drawing circles into your back as you leaned against his naked body. 

“Like I could spend the rest of the night throwing up,” you said, half-jokingly. 

Your headache was splintering into a full-blown migraine, and your body had yet to recover from the fall earlier in the day. You had no regrets about being fucked against the wall, but it definitely proved to have done some damage to your fragile state.

“If I had known y’needed a good hit to the head to get all these memories back, I woulda tripped you myself,” Joel teased.

You attempted to laugh, only to have the nausea rising in your throat silence your efforts. 

“Don’t make me laugh right now,” you groaned, curling yourself tighter around his body.

“S’only kiddin’, baby. I’m just way too damn happy to have you in my arms again. I spent the last few months tryna figure out how I’d go on livin’ without you.”

“It wasn’t easy for me either,” you sighed. “I hardly recognize myself most days.”

“I won’t lie, seein’ you at parent-teacher conferences nearly broke me,” Joel admitted. 

“It broke me, too.”

Silence slipped over you, and the fan turned into the only noise inside the bedroom. Joel’s chest rose and fell softly under your head, his heart pounding echoing through your ear as you pressed yourself further into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke. “I wish I had a better word to describe how sorry I am. It wasn’t right of me to lie to you, and I shouldn’t have ever let your family make that decision.”

“I haven’t talked to them in months,” you muttered. “I don’t know how to forgive them for what they did.”

“Y’don’t need to forgive them until you’re ready. I just hope y’know they love you, baby.”

“I do know they love me, and that’s why it’s so hard. How can they love me yet still hurt me so much?”

Joel pressed a soft kiss against the crown of your head, his fingers squeezing around your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be angry anymore,” you said, your voice cracking. “But I don’t know how to feel anything but anger towards them. Especially toward Beth. The things she’s said to me in the past…How do I forgive her?”

“I ain’t gonna take sides,” he cautioned. “But I think the accident affected her the hardest. She was so angry at your family's plan, and I think she took out a lot of that anger on you when y’didn’t deserve it.”

“It’s not fair,” you cried. “It’s not fair that she gets to be angry when she wasn’t the one that lost everything.”

“You were her everythin’, baby,” Joel whispered. “She lost you.”

“You’re taking her side,” you grumbled.

“I’m just tryna show you the other side of things,” Joel offered. 

“I know you are.”

Joel sunk further into the pillows, dragging you down beside him. You nestled into his arms, your limbs twisting around him like they had a hundred times before. It’s odd what your body remembers, but your brain forgets; it is a simple gesture of an embrace that can never be entirely forgotten. You understood why things always felt so right when you met him again last year; your soul knew he was the missing piece that had been lost. 

Joel spoke your name softly, the syllables more beautiful than ever when they rolled through his accent. You hummed in response, gazing up at him through tired eyes.

“I woulda waited an eternity for you, baby,” he confessed. “I woulda gone to my grave waitin’ to have you back in my arms like this again.”

You blinked away the tears welling in your eyes, failing miserably to hide the quiver of your lips. Joel didn’t wait for your response, nor could you verbalize anything to match the poetry of his words. You only nodded and said, " I love you, " before your eyes drifted shut. Home. You were home.

Joel was softly snoring when you woke up. In the quiet light of the morning, you took the time to admire every softened feature of his face. The worried creases between his brows had smoothed overnight, yet you still found yourself brushing a finger over the spot they usually were. Brushing your hand down his face, you traced the outline of his lips, slightly parted and pouty, the soft kiss more kissable now than ever. Kissing him could wait; you wanted to savor this moment. 

You drew a path down his neck and chest, the spattering of hair across his torso tickling your fingertips. Joel stirred above you, his head rolling to the other side of the pillow. His eyes never opened, though, and you took the opportunity to crawl under the sheets. 

Joel’s cock lay heavy against his lower abdomen, precum leaking onto the soft skin of his stomach. You ran your hands over his hips, settling yourself lower until you were comfortable between his legs. His cock twitched as you wrapped a hand around his length, stroking him slowly and deliberately. Leaning your head down, you kissed up the shaft of his cock, dragging your tongue up the length and around the head. Joel’s body tensed up, yet he still didn’t wake. You took him into your mouth, the salty taste and musky scent overwhelming your senses. You hadn’t pleasured him like this in so long, and you had forgotten how much you loved it. 

Taking him deeper, you flattened your tongue, teasing the base of his cock with the tip of your tongue. You faintly heard a moan slip from Joel’s mouth, his cock twitching against your tongue. 

“Baby?” He groaned.

You hummed softly, pulling him from your mouth. With your saliva coating the entirety of his cock, you pumped him quicker, feeling his body seize up under your touch. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, bucking his hips upward. 

You rewarded him with another swirl of your tongue over the head of his cock, your mouth and hand working in tandem. He was close; you could feel it. 

“Just like that, baby. Forgot—fuck—forgot how good your mouth feels.”

You took him deeper, the tip of his cock tapping against the back of your throat. You sputtered around him, drool rolling down the corners of your mouth, yet you didn’t stop. Hollowing your cheeks, you heard Joel choke out a gasp. The warmth of his release flooded your mouth, coating the back of your throat and tongue. You drank down every drop, pulling off of him with a soft pop.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighed, slumping into the pillows. “Get your ass up here, baby.”

You crawled over his body, your legs straddling his waist. Joel grinned up at you, his tired eyes still barely open as he drank in your naked body. 

“C’mere,” he yawned, reaching up to grab the back of your neck.

His soft lips met yours, and you molded your body to him, letting him guide your mouth however he pleased. There was still a pang of anger tucked into the darkest corner of your heart, but you knew with time, it might fade away, and all you wanted was to bask in Joel’s love as long as possible. Things would take time, but you were willing to work on it. 

“I missed wakin’ up to you,” Joel muttered, his lips working down your jaw.

You could feel him growing hard against your core as you ground your hips down on him. It was impossible to hide the fact you were slick with arousal between your thighs, your body terribly responsive to every touch he placed on your body.

“You’re drenchin’ me, baby,” he groaned. “Need to feel your pussy now.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Damn fuckin’ right you are.”

You lifted your hips, notching his cock at your entrance. Inch by inch, you sunk onto him, both of you exhaling a shaky moan as he stretched you open. Leaning forward, you laced your fingers through Joel’s, holding him firm in your grasp. All you ached for was the tenderness he could provide, the slow synchronicity that flowed through his body and into yours. 

A gentle rub of his thumb over the back of your hand, the slow rise and fall of your hips against his cock… it was the lazy movements that spoke louder than words. It was the recognition that you were his just as he was yours. Soft moans fell off your lips as Joel guided you against his cock, little reassuring grunts leaving his mouth with each roll of your body.

“S’fuckin’ beautiful, baby,” Joel exhaled.

The sun seeping through the blinds lit the amber flecks around his pupils, the morning light painting his naked body golden. The veins beneath his thick neck strained as he lifted his head to watch you, his lips parted in awe as you sucked him further inside your slicken sex. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he demanded. “Let me feel you fall apart around me.”

Your fingers slipped away from his hand, brushing down his flexed stomach as you made a path to your throbbing clit. The feather-like touch immediately sparked pleasure through your core. You clenched around his cock, whimpering with each circle of your fingertips. 

“I feel it, baby. I know you’re close.”

“Mhmm,” you whined.

Joel raised his body to press into your chest, one hand cradling your heavy breast, the other kneading the flesh of your ass. With his weight against your body, your hand pressed harder against your clit, the arousal pooling between where your bodies connect. 

Your head fell onto his shoulder, teeth sinking into his sweat-covered skin. Joel groaned at the sensation, only grounding you down harder onto his cock. You needed every atom of your being injected with Joel; every one of your senses evaded with his taste, touch, and scent. 

“Joel,” you mumbled, nestling your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m so close… so close.”

“I got you, baby. Gonna fall apart right here with you.”

He barely finished speaking by the time your orgasm ignited in your stomach, your body shuddering within his embrace. Joel spoke your name in broken syllables, his release pouring into you only moments later. 

Neither of you broke apart once your spasms subsided. Joel tangled a hand into the hair resting at the nape of your neck, urging your lips to his. Slotting your mouth over his, you slipped your tongue over his bottom lip, a starved search for a deeper connection. Joel fulfilled your need, devouring the soft sounds you exhaled.

Slowly—reluctantly—you tore from his lips, gasping for air to fill your lungs. Joel’s swollen lips formed into a crooked smile, his brown eyes softening the longer he gazed at you. Somewhere inside your chest, you felt that pain reawaken, a haunting reminder that you could have had this all along. Had the lies never been told… Joel would have always been yours. 

How did he survive the years of pain? How did he allow himself to let you go, knowing you’d never be satisfied with another?

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you turned your head to hide the emotions cresting over your face. Nothing went unnoticed with Joel, and he gently pinched your chin to bring your eyes back to his. With furrowed brows, Joel studied your features, the realization striking home for him, too.

“I know you’re scared, baby,” he whispered. “And I know there’s a lot I gotta fix between us, but I swear to you that I ain’t ever gonna leave again. I made that mistake once, and I’ll never do it again.”

“I want to trust you, Joel. I’m trying. But I don’t know how to forget what you’ve done… what everyone has done. There’s so much pain inside me. It’s unbearable.” 

Joel cradled your face in his hands, leveling you with a gaze you couldn’t discern. So many emotions swirled within his eyes, an endless expanse of grief that weighed him down. 

“Give me your pain. Give me all your anger and everything inside you, and I swear I’ll keep you safe. Y’ain’t ever gonna be alone again. Not while I’m still breathin’, baby. It’s you and me. Forever.”

“Forever,” you echoed. 

“Yes, forever. I don’t want another moment of my life without you in it. I can’t lose you again.”

“I can’t lose you, either,” you cried. “I never wanted to lose you in the first place, so please don’t leave.”

Joel’s eyes clouded with tears, and he shook his head. 

“I love you too much ever to leave you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m keepin’ you so long as y’let me.”

Eventually, you both made it out of the bed. Joel grumbled at your wishes to leave, keeping you in his arms and peppering your skin with kisses. It wasn’t long before your dizziness set back in, and you were demanding water and painkillers. 

As Joel poured you a glass of water, you found yourself swaying against the cold tile floors of the kitchen, the corners of your vision blurring. Your nails scratched at the kitchen countertop as you tried to suppress the lightheaded feeling creeping in. You just needed to sit…that’s all you needed. 

You called out Joel’s name the moment your knees buckled beneath you. His body moved in a foggy haze as you tried to keep consciousness, yet you were being pulled beneath the surface of your headache. Strong hands tucked themselves under your armpits, and Joel lowered you to the ground. 

“Baby?” His voice was frantic—strained. 

You mumbled a few incoherent words as your body sagged into his arms. Christ, your head ached. You hadn’t experienced a fainting spell since the accident, and you forgot how terrifying it was. 

Joel choked out your name, his hand snaking around your jaw to wag your head back and forth. You could see his silhouette over you, the shadow molding into the spots within your field of vision, but nothing else registered. Slipping. Drowning. You weren’t strong enough to fight it. Fear set your nerves alight; what if you lost it all again? What if everything melted away into the darkness consuming you? You clawed tooth and nail as your body plunged deeper into unconsciousness. 

It was no use. 

**

Joel paced the hallway outside your hospital room like a madman. The moment you went limp in his arms, he knew something was wrong. He should have taken your injury more seriously and urged you to the hospital yesterday. But he had you in his arms again, and the world would have had to fall apart before he even considered letting you go. Every admission from your lips weighed down on Joel’s shoulders, another swell of guilt growing inside him. He anticipated your anger, your grief, your heartbreak; he willingly listened without argument. His own struggles were nothing compared to what you endured, and he’d be damned if you ever felt those emotions again. Chewing at his nails, Joel glanced back at the open blinds of your hospital room. The doctors assured him you’d be okay; it was only a concussion, and there’d be no complications. That wasn’t enough for him. He needed to be absolutely sure you’d recover. 

The door cracked open, and Joel rushed toward the neurologist leaving your room. 

“How is she, doc?” Joel asked. “She’s gonna be okay, right?”

The neurologist, Dr. Oliver, nodded with a soft smile. The smile alone settled the rapid heartbeat banging against Joel's ribcage. 

“Miss Smith is going to be just fine,” Dr. Oliver reassured. “There’s going to be a long road to recovery, but I don’t see any long-term effects. I suggest you bring her in for check-ins with me every few months just to monitor her progress.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Joel nodded. 

“What I need you to do, Mr. Miller, is to help her. She may be a bit forgetful occasionally, so leaving lists around the house or notes will help keep her on track. You do live together, I assume?”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick he had yet to learn how to shake. 

“We don’t, but if y’recommend it…”

“I recommend it, but only because she’ll need someone looking over for her. At least, until she regains enough cognitive strength to keep her memory at full capacity,” Dr. Oliver explained. 

“I can do that, Doc. All I want is for her to be okay.”

Dr. Oliver clapped a hand on Joel’s shoulder, his lips curving into a grin. Joel could finally breathe; you’d be okay. 

“You’re a good man, Mr. Miller. She’s lucky to have you here to care for her.”

“Thank you, Doc.”

“Give her some time to rest, and she’ll be clear to go home tomorrow.”

Dr. Oliver said his goodbyes to Joel and bounded down the hallway to other patients. Joel glanced at the open door, your sleeping frame tucked into the bed among the cords and beeping monitors. He entered quietly, his footsteps soft against the floor so he wouldn’t wake you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Joel took your hand in his, cautious to avoid the IV tube taped onto your skin. Smoothing lines over the inside of your wrist, Joel watched you with weary eyes. 

“I love you, baby. I’m gonna be right here when y’wake up,” he vowed. “Like it always shoulda been.”

Leaning over your body, Joel pressed his lips against your forehead, inhaling your sweet scent as he pulled away. 

You’d be okay, and you’d forever be his. 

**

The harsh light above you reflected behind your eyelids. You groaned as you stirred awake, your eyes squinting to adjust to the layers of white surrounding you. Curling your fingers into the scratchy blanket, you found a familiar body sagged into a chair beside the bed. Joel slept peacefully, yet the worry lines creased between his brows. Extending your hand over the edge of the bed, you brushed your palm over his knee. 

“Joel,” you whispered. 

His body jolted upright as he scrubbed a hand down his face. Big, brown puppy dog eyes met yours, the concern in his face dissolving away once his eyes settled on yours. He made no effort to contain the smile breaking across his face. 

“Hey, handsome,” you croaked. 

“Baby,” Joel sighed, crouching beside the bed. “How’re y’feelin’?”

“A little fatigued, but I think I’ll live.”

“You better,” he chuckled. 

With your arms outstretched, you ushered Joel into an embrace. Joel’s lips crashed against yours the second he wrapped his arms around you, his touch soft and cautious. Beautiful melancholy emotions wracked your body; this was the moment you ached for from the start. To be held in your vulnerability, to be cherished, to be loved. Joel didn’t leave. He’d always be here, now. 

“There’s someone here to see you, baby,” Joel muttered against your mouth. 

You pulled away, confusion scrunching your eyebrows together. God, don’t let it be your family. 

“I know that look. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be right back. I promise you’ll be happy,” Joel reassured. 

Joel disappeared from the room, and you sat up, settling back into the pillows. You glanced at the monitor beeping beside your bed, the steady line of your heart rate cruising along the screen. Footsteps sounded outside your room, and your eyes flicked back toward the door, a small silhouette hiding behind Joel’s large frame. 

Sarah. 

Her bright eyes looked between you and Joel, her stare quizzical–skeptic. You gave her a small wave, ushering her into the room. 

“Hi, Sarah,” you faltered. The tears were already forming on your waterline. 

“Hi, Miss Smith,” she said wearily. 

You patted the bed, scooting over to make room for her. Her steps were slow as she neared the bedside, her eyes glancing back at Joel. He gave her an encouraging nod, a knowing grin on his lips. 

“You don’t have to call me that,” you laughed softly. 

Sarah settled onto the bed, her tennis shoes swinging over the floor as she fidgeted with her curls. Joel leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest and a smile glued to his face. 

“But you’re my teacher,” she muttered. 

You tucked a loose strand behind her ear, the same hair you had braided and brushed years ago. She wasn’t yours, not by birth. But she was yours just as much as Joel was; she was your home. They weren’t just photos captured in time; they were real. They were real, and they were yours. 

“Do you remember when I used to read you bedtime stories?” You wondered aloud. “You would always ask for the same one over and over.”

There it was. The light sparkled in the gold flecks of Sarah’s eyes, the same gold that sat deep within Joel’s. 

“You and Dad would read The Kissing Hand every night,” she nodded. 

“I know you’re a lot older now, but do you remember what we would do before you fell asleep?”

You reached for Sarah’s hand, lifting it to your lips. With a soft kiss on her palm, you guided her hand to her cheek. Sarah’s eyes filled with tears as she leaned into your touch, the simple caress of your hand against her face enough to bring you both to the brink of crying. 

“I missed you, kiddo,” you cried softly. 

Sarah threw her arms around your neck, muffling her sobs into your hospital gown as you squeezed your arms tighter around her body. You missed so many milestones and moments of her life because of the accident, so many memories that were never made. Every family meal, every soccer game…you lost them all. 

You lifted your eyes, catching the moment Joel swiped away a tear from his cheek. Beckoning him over with a quick motion of your hand, he crossed the room in two quick strides and wrapped his large arms around you and Sarah. You rested your chin on Sarah’s shoulder, hugging her closer. Joel kissed the crown of Sarah’s head, then placed one on your forehead. 

“Wait,” Sarah blurted out, forcing you all to break apart. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Joel asked, craning his head to look at her. 

“Does that mean you’re coming back home?” She asked. 

You looked at Joel for guidance, trying to find the answers within his gentle gaze. He waited in silence, giving you room to decide. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt about your answer, not when you had everything you needed right here. 

“Only if you promise never to make pancakes again,” you smiled, pinching her cheek. 

She buried herself into your arms again, her head resting against your heart. You looked up at Joel, your mouth forming three little words. 

I love you. 

~ Two weeks later ~

Joel refused any help as he unloaded the last of your boxes from the back of his truck. When you got home from the hospital, you patched up the holes in the wall—with Joel’s help, of course—and got the house ready to sell. It barely lasted a week on the market before the offers came in, making it easy to start packing. That house was filled with memories you didn’t want to remember, memories that you no longer wanted to revisit. It wasn’t home to you anymore. 

You and Sarah sat on the front porch, popsicles in hand, watching as he huffed an exasperated breath once the box hit the steps. Joel straightened out, running sweaty hands down the sides of his jeans, glancing back at the empty truck bed. 

“Well, I think that’s the last of it,” Joel sighed. “Y’sure we ain’t miss anythin’?”

“I think I’ve got all I need right here,” you grinned, nudging Sarah with your shoulder. 

Joel plopped beside you on the porch, leaning over to lick up the sticky residue of the popsicle that had fallen down your arm. You gave him a warning look, shifting your eyes toward Sarah as if to say: Behave. He only shrugged, sticking out his tongue again to tickle your skin. 

“You hungry?” He asked, quirking a brow. 

“Starving!” Sarah declared, rising to her feet. 

You laughed, knowing Joel wasn’t asking her. Nonetheless, you and Joel followed her into the house hand in hand. Over the last couple of weeks, he had decorated the house in countless sticky notes: ones in the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen. Each said something important. The one in the bathroom was stuck on the medicine cabinet, reminding you which toothbrush was yours—the purple one. Joel stuck one by the front door with Sarah’s soccer schedule—snack duty included. There were a few scattered around the kitchen: one telling you where to find the coffee mugs, another one with a list of groceries to buy over the weekend. Three photos hung beside the list, sitting in perfect harmony as they always should have been.  But your favorite was stuck to the cover of Romeo and Juliet, Joel’s messy handwriting scribbled across the yellow paper. It was only a few words but the only reminder you needed. 

Welcome home, baby. 

I love you.

[oldlight117]

Zero and Infinity

In response to @camelcasethoughts's prompt #42, a kiss out of pride.

Excerpt below. Full story here. (Rated E)

For a beat Shadowheart was caught up in the moment. She almost let herself fall completely into the other woman’s embrace. Almost.

“That was incredibly foolish,” she said, beating Vi’s chest with a soft fist. “You jumped on that thing while it was still spinning. What if my spell didn’t hold?”

“I had faith in you,” she replied simply, like nothing more needed to be said between them. Shadowheart felt pride swell up inside her. She was leaning in to Vi’s kiss before she could even register the motion. 

“I offer to parlay, and he brings a spectator?” Dhourn’s sharp tongue pulled Shadowheart quickly and firmly out of the moment. She had nearly forgotten herself in front of the strangers, and blushed in frustration as she pulled away from Violet abruptly. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I feel Violet pull me in, snapping us out of my tadpole memory. The immediate push and pull is jarring, and I am breathless as my awareness shifts from the peculiar battle and the almost, not quite kiss. Her hand is on the back of my neck and she leans in close enough that I can smell the day on her. Traces of sandalwood incense in her hair, a hint of pine and lavender from her soap, the musk and metal scent of battle and toil, even her breath tainted by the elixir, the smell of ink and parchment – I breathe her in and am reminded of our night together in the library, the way I longed to stay there wrapped in her arms.

There is a smugness to Violet in this moment that snaps me out of my enthrallment. She has seen far too much of herself through my eyes tonight. She’s seen my intentions in bringing her here, she’s seen my doubt and my frustration, she’s seen my admiration for her in spite of my teasing. Her lips brush mine. She’s seen how I truly feel for her, witnessed my lo–

No. This insolence will not go unanswered. I push Violet back against the bars of the temple of Selûne, roughly. My hands tangle in the folds of her top, caressing her collarbone, finding her neck. Violet’s hands are deft, and adept at sleight of hand – but I am a Sharran.

[andthekitchensinkao3]

Update the nth on Stories

Do I look forward to checking my phone every five minutes for the coming week to see if I have any comments? Not particularly.

Enjoy the new chapter, everyone.

[artausrayne]

And the Saga continues~

Introducing part 3 of Past, Present, and Future: An Arcana Saga:

The Interlude

The three years that take place between the Masquerade ritual and the in-game route, told in very short stories between Asra, Aisling (The Apprentice), and Julian's POVs. Ft. Altheia Featherstone, LunaStarhawk's OC. 😊

It's much shorter than the other two parts, but if you haven't read those first I highly recommend because there will be a lot of references that will be missed!

[mayhemandtrouble]

Pitter Patter chapter 32 of Not Giving Up

Finished story on Ao3 with detailed tags

It’s funny how something can be expected, welcomed even, and yet still catch you off entirely off guard. Rey’s first labor pains set Varykino into a whirlwind of ‘hurry up and wait’. Only a few days after the wedding, and the others were still lingering - catching up, renewing bonds and trying to plan for a peace they hadn’t been expecting. Without anyone actually saying it out loud, nobody wanted to leave until after Rey had delivered.

She’d first noticed the contractions during a morning walk with Finn, the two quietly discussing plans for both themselves and the Resistance. There had been no convincing him that this phase of the labor would probably take hours and there was no need to rush - her overly protective and self appointed guardian hurried to alert the others. Who all came running just as quickly as though it were an actual emergency, Ben with his face half covered in a shaving cream.

 

Now, with the sun starting to set and Rey’s pains increasing, Rose and Ben had Rey’s hands, walking with the woman carefully up and down the halls of the Retreat. Finn had gathered what seemed to be every towel in the entirety of Naboo and was arranging them in neat stacks at strategic locations, from her bedroom to the intersections of major pathways.

Poe had woken up the medical droid and was pestering it with questions every five minutes. He refused to leave the droid alone until it threatened to go into hibernation. Leia chuckled privately, doing her part by keeping Chewbacca occupied with assembling the last bits of baby toys and whatnot. While one of the three porgs ‘nested’ in his large lap, the other two waddled about Rey’s feet.

Ben was seriously contemplating kicking the ball shaped birds hard enough to splatter against the wall but his wife’s steps were slow and steady, avoiding the feathered nuisances. Besides, he had bigger problems. Like helping Rey time her contractions, nodding in agreement at anything she said, and massaging her legs whenever she wanted to rest. It was difficult to school his emotions, trying to make sure that the only emotions Rey would be able to pick up on were positive.

Especially as the hours wore on and he began to notice her energy flagging. The droid continued to chirp that everything was proceeding normally for human birth givers, and even Rose offered Ben a reassuring smile. Easing Rey onto a large, plush ottoman, Ben couldn’t help but feel a surge of panic all the same. What if this killed her, just like Grandmother. Mother had had a difficult labor as well. What if…

“You worry… too much.” Rey patted his hand lightly, smiling as Ben tucked a pillow under her head.

“Skywalker trait.” He snorted in reply, grinning a little in pride that she’d caught him. His wife was strong enough to match him, Rey would be fine. She had to be. His bare fingers brushed over her hair gently.

It was supremely surreal for Rose to watch Ben sing quietly to Rey. She was the only other one close enough to hear, flopped onto a nearby couch while he crouched next to the ottoman Rey had decided was perfect to rest on. With the laboring woman laying on her side for a moment and Ben’s face only a few inches from Rey’s, the Supreme Leader sang her the melodies of his childhood. Each one a promise and a wish for their family.

His low tenor lulled Rey, if not to sleep then into rest. Rose watched as Rey’s fingers threaded with Ben’s, who remained crouched awkwardly long after his muscles must have begun to protest. What the man was, or had been, he was devoted to his wife. And that was enough for now.

It wasn’t difficult to see the toll labor was taking on her. Rey had one cheek puffed out, storing ice chips. It made her look like she was doing a strange impersonation of some woodland creature, not that anyone dared to comment on it. Rey had outright screamed at Chewie when the Wookie shot Ben a dirty look over something or other, after which Chewbacca played safe by appointing himself the guardian of her ice water.

Leia gently wiped the sweat from Rey’s forehead with a cool cloth that she refreshed from time to time in said ice water. Ben alternated between checking on Rey and Mother, wanting to make sure the latter didn’t wear herself out caring for the former. Leia shooed him away every time, Rey’s answers were growing more colorful by the hour.

Rose took turns holding Rey’s hand with Ben, both attempting to coach the woman in breathing - Rose more successfully than Ben, despite his efforts. Finn and Poe were banished to the hallway once the medical droid started checking Rey’s cervix more frequently. They demurred to Rey’s modesty gracefully, until the doors were closed. Then Finn wore fresh grooves in time-tested flooring while Poe slammed back a few of the foulest shots he could locate - just to keep his nerves steady.

“I got you, I got you.” Inside, Ben’s arms curled around Rey, just below her breasts, as she tried to walk and stumbled through a contraction. Giving her his strength as her own began to fail, and swallowing how much it terrified him.

“Ben, I can’t do this.” How long had it been already - the droid kept beeping at her cheerfully but Rey was certain it was just the damn thing’s bedside manner programming. She was running low, struggling just to reach out and feel the twins or Ben despite how close he was. Closing her eyes, Rey had to fight against the growing fear that she would leave her children without even a memory of her. What if she just…

He swallowed. Leia and Rose were already answering her, assuring Rey in all the proper ways. Saying all the right things while Ben buried his face in his wife’s neck for a moment, breathing in deeply. She smelled of sweat and exhaustion, he could feel her never-ending determination ebbing low, the terror of leaving them all and the temptation that was starting to torment her. 

“The hell you can’t.” Taking a deep breath, Ben growled against her skin with a flash of his brown eyes. Rose started towards them and Ben only held onto Rey more possessively. The others couldn’t feel her the way he did, his dyad. They didn’t understand the extent of Rey’s distress, couldn’t feel the pull to merely borrow life from the others. It would be so easy, Rey only had to ask Ben and he would slaughter the galaxy for her comfort, let alone her life. Especially now. “You are Rey, scavenger of Jakku. The desert couldn’t destroy you, the First Order couldn’t bow your head.”

She nearly laughed to hear him snarling out her strengths, leaning fully against him and trusting Ben to carry the weight of her and the twins. A trust not misplaced, for the man didn’t even stumble. Only braced himself further and kissed her temple before continuing, in a lower, more human tone.

“You could walk into the mouth of a Sarlacc and emerge unscathed, with it as your devoted pet.” Nuzzling slowly against her skin, Ben felt a surge of relief as her spirits rose, and she let him ease their tired frames onto the edge of a loveseat.

Strange, to feel warmth now. As though she was able to truly share in his strength. Perhaps it was a function of their Force bond, or perhaps it was simply trusting one’s partner. Cracking her eyes open, Rey could see a slowly growing smile on his face in response to Rey’s rising resolve.

“You are Rey Solo, Princess of Alderaan, Captain of the Millennium Falcon and Resistance hero. There is nothing in this galaxy you can not accomplish.”

The fierceness of his love and devotion overwhelmed her, feeling soft kisses brush along her cheek, at her temple, in her sweaty hair. Like a tidal wave that swept Rey off painful, rocky beaches and tossed her wave to wave but never let her shoulders dip below the water. Ben sent her soul whirling about, with the heights of love and the valleys of doubt but always kept her safe. So long as she had him, Rey would never drown in her own Darkness. 

Grasping his hand tighter, Rey nodded at the medical droids chirping encouragement. Pushing with a scream. Over and over, till her throat was raw from the effort of bringing new life into the universe. Till Ben was certain Rey had broken at least two of his fingers and time seemed to move at a crawl.

It was the wailing scream of the first baby girl who seemed to break the spell for both new parents. Rose wiped the little one down with warm towels, Leia cooed sweetly over her first grandchild and Ben couldn’t believe his eyes. A shock of dark hair, waving arms, beautiful brown eyes and there was still one more to come. His wife was breathing, screaming but alive. 

It was almost an assembly line, Ben mused though he kept the comedy to himself. Watching in surreal joy as Rey labored to deliver the second Solo twin, how Rose tenderly cleaned the second infant once birthed. Mother handed the older twin to Ben so that she could take the younger. Joining Mother in presenting both to Rey together.

“Two beautiful girls.” Leia leaned in to kiss Rey’s forehead, unable to resist the show of affection.

“My girls. Our girls.” Rey breathed out, her voice exhausted and proud all at once. Mother would have loved to be here, she was certain. And perhaps they were here, both her parents, even if she couldn’t see them. Leaning her head against Ben’s shoulder, Rey didn’t bother hiding the joyous tears.

“Our girls.” He agreed, unable to take his eyes off the twins. Beautiful, with scrunched faces and hair that stuck up in all directions. How he had been part of making such perfection was beyond him. They seemed like a mirage that would disappear from his grasp, or bits of glass that would shatter if the wind blew too hard.

“Congratulations.” Rose’s face was split by the first true smile since she’d arrived at Varykino. Rey had fought to protect what she loved, and if anyone deserved a soft ending, she did.

Finished story on Ao3 with detailed tags

[k1tk4ttt]

How it feel to finally accept and embrace the cringe of reading x reader fics

[jiimeniita]

[bloodyboi]

[shimisstuff]

The new cover inspired all of this, it’s not my fault 😭

18+ on Patreon

[tobeholyistobeempty]

you’re drunk - simon ghost riley

“y’wanna know what stupid looks like?” he mutters, head dropping down until his lips near your jaw. “you, wakin up with my fuckin dog tags round your neck and nothin else.”

based off a request i got - tispy simon riley x drunk reader. simon is a man of morals, even when you make it very very hard for him to exercise them. 18+. lots of detailed dirty talk.

find part two here.

————-

it’s honestly not even your fault.

you’ll blame it all on soap, if anyone asks - he’s the one who had a tab open, a devil on his shoulder, and kept pouring shots as if they were free. now you’re blackout-adjacent, stumbling through the hallway with simon’s arm wrapped around your waist in some makeshift tourniquet while everything spins like a goddamn carousel.

simon always gets stuck on clean-up crew. mostly because he’s the only one who can handle their fuckin liquor.

needless to say, he’s used to this by now. used to the way you’ve been rambling on about nothing for the better part of five minutes - doesn’t say much when you stop and get distracted by something stupid for the billionth time. doesn’t complain when you grab his arm and lean a little too hard into his side, as if he’s a lifeline in the sea that is the floor beneath your feet.

he’s tipsy, sure, but somehow still annoyingly steady. classic simon.

“jesussi—you’re big.” it’s slurred and breathless, broken by your own laughter as your head drops lazily onto his shoulder. “like, industrial grade. military-issued big.”

the corner of his mouth tilts. if you were sober you’d see the smirk he’s biting back.

“tha right?”

“mmm. like a fuckin tank,” you hum, fingers kneading the muscle under your palm. it’s involuntary - just like it’s involuntary when he twitches. “or an armoured vehicle. y’should come with airbags.”

simon bites his cheek. the devil in you is dancing in the waves of tension rolling off him.

maybe he’s not as used to this as he thought - because this isn’t just drunk-banter. this is you, murmuring compliments with all that heat behind them. personal. stupidly involuntarily honest.

hes not used to compliments. not ones that sound like that.

“you’re drunk,” he breathes.

you grin. “so’re you.”

“not even half as much as you.”

you let out a giddy little laugh that makes him glance down, at that. it’s quick and brief, the way his eyes flick over you, like he’s checking to make sure you haven’t stripped mid-hallway. it’s just the bickering that gets you. makes you warm inside.

“m’not that drunk,” you lie through your teeth with all the drunken confidence you possess. “i mean—i am, but not like…memory loss drunk. i’m still gonna remember how wide your shoulders are tomorrow.”

it’s only seconds after that and your fingers are moving again, crawling down his arm to where leather edge meets skin.

“..and how insanely big your hands are,” you sigh in continuation, unable to help yourself. “like—biblically destructive. ruin-her-life-in-a-single-night kind of hands. anyone ever tell y’that?”

and that might just be precisely when it starts - the feeling in his gut. brought to life through the filth you’re beginning to feed.

“don’t.” he says, and it’s torn. “not now.”

he’s all but begging you - and however miraculously, his pace doesn’t break. still steady as ever even as you switch from squeezing to tracing his tattoos with your finger. the only response he gives is a devastating clench of his jaw as he keeps you moving - steering past flickering lights and sterile walls.

“y’ever choke a girl out with them?” you press, unfettered. “not like, unconscious, but like. in bed?”

he exhales. slow. almost a growl.

“jesus. stop talkin’.”

“why?” you blink up at him, all wide eyes and flushed cheeks, far too innocent for someone who’s very much not being innocent. “am i makin’ you nervouuus?”

his head tilts just slightly, just enough to peer down at you again.

“no,” he says, and even drunk you hear the grit in it. “you’re makin’ me hard.”

he says it like he hates himself for it. like it slipped out - cut from the meat of some deep place the inebriation in his veins simply won’t let him keep inside.

and you?

you blink slow, lips parting in surprise.

“fuckin’ finally.” you exhale with a smile. slow and crooked and dangerous. “thought i’d have to be on my knees and naked for you to admit that—“

he doesn’t let you finish that thought.

“fuck’s sake, y’little minx.” he’s dragging you now, as if he’s realizing the dangers that are surfacing the more this conversation continues. by this point he’s half-carrying, half-hauling your giggling form down the hall like you weigh nothing. “y’need to stop talkin.”

“you like it,” you slur between unsteady steps. “y’like me like this cause you’re a freakkk—“

his grip tightens. morals in tatters. control evaporating.

“i’d like you more if y’were unconscious.” he huffs, hard. “or duct-taped.”

that makes you giggle more. worse, it eggs you on.

“was that supposed t’be a threat?” you ask, lips glistening. “cause if so, it’s workingggg.”

he grunts - some deep, violent sound in his throat like that one hit a nerve. “bloody hell.”

by the time you make it to your door, he’s breathing heavy. less from exertion and more from sheer fucking restraint. it takes two seconds before he throws the hinges wide, kicks it shut with his boot, and all but drags you onto your bed.

and you hardly even realize you’ve reached it until the cotton caresses the side of your cheek. but that feeling is quickly forgotten when simon, the gentleman that he is, leans over you - one knee braced on the mattress as his hands go to work on the laces of your boots.

your thighs tense. he notices.

“fuck, simon.” you can’t stop yourself. not even god himself could, at this point. “i’ve been into you for ages, y’know.”

he pauses. boot in hand.

“…what?”

he says it low. like a warning - like a don’t you fuckin start. but you’re too drunk to care - especially when all you smell is him and all you see are those shoulders, leaning over you while you’re flat on your back beneath him.

your lashes flutter.

“jus sayin- since, like. you’re in my room, on my bed above me like one of my codeine fever dreams.” you slur, brain sloshing. the room spins with it. “thought y’should know.”

he looks at you like you’ve hit him with a brick.

your head lolls. glassy eyes dragging up over the length of him. “used to think about it—you—when i couldn’t sleep.”

he swallows, and you watch his throat work with it. the grip he’s got on your ankle could shatter bone.

“….you tellin me y’think bout me when y’touch yourself?” he asks.

“god yes.” you don’t even realize you’ve said it. “you. your hands. bending me over the sinks. in the showers while muttering filth in my ear, tellin me to behave—“

“—fuck.” it punches out of him like it hurts.

the silence falls heavy. he doesn’t blink, breathe, or move for what feels like forty minutes, when in reality, it’s like forty seconds - just long enough for him clamp the leash back on whatever beast is tearing through him.

not fully, but enough.

you stretch like a cat, oblivious to it. arch your back. sigh. “d’you think about it?”

he doesn’t answer. not at first. then—

“only when i breathe.”

your stomach lurches. your thighs twitch. “you mean that?”

he looks at you, finally - eyes darker than the devils deal, filled with filth and heat from the fire you started without even trying.

he shakes his head, his jaw clenches with the effort of keeping the beast at bay. “i mean, if you don’t stop talkin, m’gonna fuckin’ fold.”

the alcohol in your blood just roars, at that. fuel to the flaming fire inside you.

“tell me.” you murmur. “you think about fucking me? what i’d sound like moaning your—“

before you can finish that thought, his hand is over your mouth. it swallows your face, makes you twitch in all the wrong places — and he sees it.

“enough.” it’s barely a whisper. “christ. fuck. you’re gonna make me do somethin’ stupid.”

you moan against his hand - it spills out of you, vibrates against his fingers. he curses.

“y’wanna know what stupid looks like?” he mutters, head dropping down until his lips near your jaw. “you, wakin up with my fuckin dog tags round your neck and nothin else.”

his palm silences everything but your pulse, which is roaring, at this point.

your fingers come up, shift a few of his digits until your voice finds room to leak out. “please.”

his eyes snap shut.

“y’dont know what you’re askin for, sweet’eart,” he mutters, grabbing the edge of the blanket with his free hand and yanking it over your hips. “ain’t gonna wake up with you hatin me.”

even drunk you realize he’s a man of morals.

“you think i’d regret it?” you whisper. stars in your eyes. he doesn’t respond. “simon. i just told you i’ve fantasized about fucking you. i wonder how big you are, if it’d hurt—“

his palm tightens over your lips again.

“one more fuckin’ word and i’ll forget every goddamn reason why i shouldn’t touch you right now.” he spits. “if y’even remember this tomorrow, y’come say it to me sober. promise on every grave i’ve ever stood over i’ll bend y’over on the spot and fuck the idea of regret right outta you.”

then he pulls back, moving slow like it hurts, and you smile.

“guess i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“mhm.” he hums, take a step or two toward the door. “fuckin hope you will.”

[alltheirdamn]

A Bounty for Reward (Mando x f!reader)

CHAPTER 9

Summary: Running isn't always as easy as it sounds. Warnings: unprotected piv sex, praise kink, creampie, cum eating/light cum play, soft!mando, some teasing per usual, a fuck ton of angst you might cry (maybe?) Word Count: 8.4k A/N: I just love angst too much, okay? Anyway... this chapter and the next are *Certified* my favorites

Early the next morning, Mando flew the Crest to the deeper parts of the forest outside the village. It was secluded and quiet and further off-grid than you were hoping for. If you wanted to make a plan to leave, this was taking you several steps back. 

He was being extra sweet as the morning faded into early afternoon, speaking softly and leaving faint touches on you as you passed in the cargo hold. Each touch was another brutal reminder of that tether pulling between you, that inescapable feeling that something was keeping you both intertwined. You wanted to hit your head against the metal walls and get a grip, but he was making it so fucking hard. 

And he was keeping good on his word and not treating you differently. He even agreed to train with you, promising weapons and a longer session once the afternoon sun peaked. Shedding those secrets yesterday felt like a burden lifted from your chest, yet that anger still festered deep inside you, waiting to escape at any moment. If you could fight Mando, you could lessen those bubbling emotions.

Outside in the clearing, Mando kept a tight grip on his blade, leveling it with his body as he beckoned you to make the first move. You crouched low, aiming for his thigh, only for him to deflect it before you could even get within a foot of his body. His free hand grabbed your wrist, locking it in a vice until your blade fell with a light thud in the grass.

“Fuck,” you snapped.

That rage was crawling up your spine, torching your nerves. You picked up your blade and got into a defense position as you waited for Mando to strike. He advanced on you slowly, his steps calm and calculated up until the last moment when his weapon came shooting out to slice at your bicep. You stepped back in time to escape his strike, blocking your face with one arm and returning a strike at his shoulder. His other hand caught your forearm, twisting it until you yelped. Thinking fast, you drove a knee up into his abdomen, the bone hitting his armor belt on impact. Pain erupted through your body, and you staggered back, winded from the fight.

“You alright?” Mando asked, his breath ragged. He clasped a hand on your shoulder as you bent over heaving. 

Giving him no time, you sliced upwards, nicking the fabric between his cowl and chest. It wasn’t forceful enough to hit skin, but enough to surprise him and send him reeling backward. You straightened with a wide grin on your face, flipping your knife in your hand casually. 

“Don’t let your guard down, Mando,” you shrugged.

He tossed the blade from his hand, charging at you full force. You managed to dodge him, sliding to the left and breaking into a full sprint. The thrill of a chase pounded in your chest as you took off into the empty clearing, the tall grass dying beneath your feet. Your blood was pounding in your ears loud enough to drown out his footsteps behind you, and you felt free. Maybe this was your shot; maybe you could outrun him. 

But that thought died quickly as a sharp cable looped around your right leg, sending you down into the earth hard. Thankfully, you had enough time to brace yourself before the strength of the cable dragged you backward toward Mando. Your nails clawed at the soil beneath you as you tried fighting against it, but your strength was no match for the weapon on his belt. 

Mando’s hands were on your shoulders in an instant, flipping you over to reveal your muddied shirt and face. With him looming over you in all his armored glory, your body flushed a deep red, the heat crawling over your chest and neck. He crouched down, unwinding the cable from your calf, massaging the skin under your pant leg slowly. 

“Never run from a bounty hunter,” he warned. “They’ll always catch you.”

They’ll always catch you. 

You tried to cool your expression as the words washed over you, draining all the heat and color from your body. Did he know? Of course, he didn’t; he was just taunting you in the heat of the moment. 

“Well, you made a nice mess of me with that stunt,” you huffed, sitting up to rest on your forearms. 

“Could make even more of a mess of you for running away from me.”

“Is that a threat?” You smirked.

Mando crawled over you, his helmet a breath away from your face. You pressed your body up into his, letting your breasts rub against his chest plate. It smeared mud against the shiny metal, and you laughed softly.

“Looks like you’re just as messy as me.”

“You wanna fight dirty?” Mando challenged.

“Yeah, I do.”

Hooking your leg around his waist, you used all your energy to spin him over and pin him beneath you. Mando’s hands found their familiar place on your hips, his grip holding you firm as you straddled him. With one slow grind of your hips, he exhaled a groan, and you relished in the feeling of his cock growing hard against your ass. 

“I like you underneath me,” you hummed, rolling your hips again.

Mando’s fingers dug into the exposed skin of your waist, your shirt long having ridden up from the fight. You placed your hands on his shoulder pauldrons as you ground against the fabric of his suit, the friction shooting waves of pleasure through your core. You could push the doubts aside if you pacified it with a distraction. And he was the perfect distraction.

“Make yourself cum, angel. Let me watch you fall apart.”

“No touching.”

He let his fingers slip away from your waist, setting them behind his helmet as he gazed up at you, silently waiting and watching. You indulged in his request, moving your hips in earnest against the hardened outline of his cock. The drag of your clit against it was intoxicating, and you drew circles until you found the right pattern to shatter you into oblivion. You were all too aware that you were in the wide open space of the forest, completely exposed to any possible threat, but that didn’t stop you from pressing your body down harder onto him. If anything, it fueled the fire inside you even more, your movements growing more desperate and out of control. You scrapped your nails against the metal of his pauldrons as your core clenched one final time. Your release escaped from you with a loud moan, the sound filling the space around you. 

“Look at the mess you made,” he taunted, tilting his visor toward the obvious wet spot on your pants. 

You muttered some sort of jumbled nonsense as you slumped against his chest, too blissed out to care that your cunt had drenched your pants and his. 

“Too bad you can’t taste it,” you tossed back. 

What the fuck? 

Why would you say something like that? It completely went against his Creed to remove his helmet, let alone remove it to taste you. That thought pushed beyond all boundaries, and you weren’t quick enough to swallow those words.

“You have no fucking idea how bad I want to taste you,” he growled, letting a hand coast down your back to deliver a sharp slap against your ass. 

“I can taste for the both of us,” you whispered.

Positioning yourself back up onto his lap, you trailed a hand down your stomach and let your fingers dance under the waistband of your underwear. Swiping a finger through your wet folds, you brought the glistening digit to your lips and eyed him as you sucked it clean. Mando’s body went rigid under you, his hands flexing against your backside. 

“Again,” he ordered.

You repeated the motion, letting the taste of your release coat your tongue. Before you could even swallow, Mando’s hand came up to your jaw, holding it firm.

“Let me see.”

Your lips twitched with a smile as you opened your mouth wide. His gloved thumb ran across your bottom lip and slowly pushed into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking on the fabric of his glove until you heard him inhale a sharp breath. 

“Tell me I can fuck you.”

You released his thumb with a gentle pop, nodding mindlessly at his request.

“Please,” you begged. 

With that one simple word, Mando had you thrown onto the grass, positioning you on all fours. He made quick work of yanking your pants down your thighs, the light afternoon breeze sending a shiver over your exposed skin. 

“So fucking wet for me, baby,” he groaned.

You preened at his words, humming as he slid a finger inside your aching cunt. Maker, if he didn’t fuck you soon, you’d go mad. You heard the zipper of his suit roll down and the quick brush of the tip of his cock against your entrance. Yes. You needed this. You needed to clear your mind and forget all the ways you’d hurt him when you decided to run. This was the last time, you told yourself. 

Mando pushed into you slowly, letting your body adjust to his cock as it stretched you out. You groaned into the soil beneath you, paying little mind to the mud smearing across your cheek as you braced against the ground. Mando rocked into you slowly at first, finding that perfect rhythm that made you clench around his cock, and then began pistoning into you. You cried out as he drove into you, each thrust hitting you at the core. 

“This pussy is mine,” he growled with each snap of his hips. “No one will ever touch you again.”

You were too dazed to analyze his words or think of anything other than the swelling warmth inside you. He wanted you for himself? Fine, he could have you. He could take anything he wanted, and you’d give it to him willingly. It didn’t change the fact that you’d leave him; your emotions were slowly crawling behind the walls you had built before.

But then, in that moment, you craved the way he fucked you. You focused on the thrum of your heartbeat, the pulse throbbing in your clit, the feel of his cock buried inside you. You cursed into the ground, your teeth gnashing together as that euphoric surge of release splintered across your nerves. You clenched around his cock, your cunt fluttering through the aftershocks of your orgasms, yet he didn’t let up.

“Mando…” You whined.

His hand smoothed over the soft skin of your ass as he crooned out various praises. 

Taking me so good, angel. 

Fucking love how you feel wrapped around my cock. 

Give me more.

You were putty in his hands, and you melted at every syllable dripping through the modulator of his helmet. You wanted the praise. You wanted the release. You wanted this.

“So fucking beautiful,” he exhaled, a hand wrapping around your hair.

He tugged at it gently, your neck craning upwards. The sky above you blurred as another bubbling release coursed through your stomach. You blinked back tears as the tremors tore through you and set your nerves alight. Mando grunted with a final snap of his hips, spilling into you until you felt his release seep out of your aching cunt. 

Releasing his grip on your hair, you felt his fingers work through the tangles knotting at the base of your neck, soothing you as you let your body rest against the ground. He kept his cock sheathed inside of you for several moments, the warmth of his body pressed against yours the perfect salve for the ache inside you. 

Even when it was rough, he made sure to care for you—something no one else had done before.

“Was it too much?” He asked, finally pulling out of you and shimming your pants back onto your hips. You could still feel his cum leaking out of you, and a guilty part of you loved it.

You shook your head as best as possible, your body still fighting off the shakes that traveled up your thighs. Rolling onto your back, you stared at him as he hovered over you. 

“Never too much,” you exhaled.

Mando sat back on his heels and offered a hand to pull you up. He rubbed at your cheek, most likely cleaning the mud from your face and let his hand come down to caress the side of your neck. Maker, each soft touch was another knife to the chest as you tried to remind yourself of what you needed to do.

This was the last time.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, angel.” 

He hauled you to your feet, leading you back to the Crest as you walked on shaky legs. You knew you’d be sore for days, which didn’t make the idea of running sound pleasant. But regardless, you were leaving. You had to. 

After a long time spent alone under the spray of water, you emerged from the refresher with damp hair and a few scatters of bruises. Maybe a year ago, the faint black and blue color on your skin would have repulsed you, but you didn’t mind this time. It was Mando that left them there, and the thought of carrying those marks with you when you left was strangely comforting. 

Mando wasn’t in the hull, and you heard his voice from the cockpit as you climbed the ladder, his voice clipped and short.

“I had to make an unexpected stop in Sorgan,” you heard him say.

“Well, if you’re interested in a few more credits, I’ve got word of a bounty on the planet.” 

It was Greef Karga, and you would know that lively voice anywhere. He was a talker and a good one at that. You only recalled hearing his voice once, and that had been the same day Mando killed a man for you. 

“Send me the coordinates.” 

Silence followed Mando’s words, and you took it as an invitation to enter the cockpit. He turned in his pilot's seat, staring at you slightly longer than usual. 

“Guild business?” You asked.

“It’ll be a quick hunt,” he assured you. “You’re safe here.”

You masked the bubbling anxiety as it accelerated your heart rate. If Mando were leaving for a hunt, it would be the perfect opportunity to run. 

“When do you leave?” You tried not to sound too eager. 

“Tonight.”

“You’ll be back in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?” You wanted him to think you were worried. And truthfully, you were worried. You were worried you’d get caught and worried he’d get hurt.

“I promise, angel.”

You nodded, swaying in the spot you stood. He motioned for you to join him, and though you felt hesitant, you relented and sat beside him. You didn’t know how to fill the silence this time; you were too focused on the thousands of strategies to leave. You’d need to make sure you had your knife with you and some sense of awareness of where the fuck you were. You were off-grid on Sorgan, but you knew they had a docking port somewhere. If you could get in proximity to the village again, maybe you’d find your way to the port. You’d find a way to tuck a few of Mando’s credits in your pocket and buy yourself transport back to Coruscant. Leaving him would mean you’d have no protection, but that hadn’t stopped you before. You managed to survive a few months on your own, and if anything, being around Mando had taught you how to fight and survive. 

“You’re quiet,” Mando commented. 

His voice startled you out of your daze and drew you back to the present. You stared at the red lights flashing on the nav panel, trying so hard not to look at him for fear of risking everything. 

“You’re the one famously known to be quiet,” you tossed back. 

“Hmm,” was his only response. 

Another beat of silence passed, and he spoke up again. 

“Your parents. What were they like?”

Your eyes tore away from the nav panel and straight to his helmet. 

“What?” You balked. 

“I’m just trying to make small talk, angel.”

“But why do you want to know about them?” You were on the defense now. 

He shrugged, tilting his helmet. 

“Because I want to know about you.”

Maker, had this been any other time, the sentiment may have been welcomed. You’d happily talk about them—even if it hurt—and share those parts of your life with him. But now, the more you shared, the worse it would hurt. He’d leave tonight thinking you’d be here in the morning and everything would be fine, but it wouldn’t be. He would return to an empty ship and one less bounty to worry about. Because at the end of the day, that’s what you were. What you had always been from the start. 

“They were…” A lump formed in your throat as you tried to string some sentences. “They were normal. My father had owned the junkyard his entire life. I grew up learning how to rebuild speeders and droids before I could even walk. My mother tried to stay out of the way. She was always cautious about the trades he made or the business he took in.”

“How did he end up getting mixed up with the Pykes?”

You sighed, rubbing a hand across your forehead, no doubt a headache on the horizon. 

“I honestly don’t know,” you said. “He didn’t tell me much about the deals or the people he made them with. I usually stayed inside when traders came to the yard, but when Kesi came that day, I was finishing working on a new prototype of a speeder. It was the end of the workday, and my mother was waiting for us to clean up to join her for dinner when they came by. My father was never one to back down from conflict… he was stubborn.”

“That’s where you get it,” he huffed lightly. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, too. 

“I am my father’s daughter.”

“What would have been your life if Kesi never came around?”

You hit your head against the headrest, closing your eyes to hide the tears that stung your waterline. Why the fuck was he asking so many questions? Why did he care? 

“I don’t know, Mando.” There was a bite to your words. “I never saw myself leaving Mos Eisley, so maybe the junkyard would have been mine one day.”

“Would you ever want that? Your own junkyard?”

“What I want is freedom,” you snapped, turning to look at him through blurry eyes. “I haven’t thought that far, okay?”

Your anger must have been unexpected because he exhaled heavily, turning his helmet toward the windshield. You weren’t even regretful for lashing out, but seeing him so quiet from it pained you a little. He genuinely asked questions to understand you better, but you couldn’t afford to let him in any closer. What you wanted shouldn’t matter to him; he had a job, and that’s all he should care about. Your freedom and your life shouldn’t have been his concern; he needed to be reminded of that. 

“Why do you care so much?” You asked, softening your voice. 

“I don’t know.”

“You always say that.”

Mando didn’t respond, which frustrated you.

“You shouldn’t care about me,” you hesitated. 

“I know.”

The conversation was going nowhere, and you were spiraling inside, wondering if leaving him would feel as easy as it sounded. You just needed to make it through tonight, and you’d be gone once he left. 

“I’m tired,” you lied. 

“Go rest. I’ll wake you before I go.”

You couldn’t manage a response, only giving him a gentle nod before disappearing into the hull. You gathered your blade and the leather thigh holster, sliding them under the blanket on the bed. Reaching for the leather vest on the ground, you hesitated. Emotions crashed inside you as you picked it up, remembering how he had bought this just for you. He wanted you protected, no matter what. It was a sign of trust you both had built together. Leaving meant breaking that trust, but he knew from the start you would leave, just not like this. 

You stowed the vest away along with everything else and crawled into the bed on sore legs. You needed to reach the village first, then find the route to the docking port. Once you made it there, Mando wouldn’t come searching. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Going to Coruscant was risky; Mando was bound to go looking for you there. You had no other option; until you had a better place in mind, that was where you’d start. 

You fell asleep fast, the night terrors at bay for at least a little while. They crept in slowly at first, then hit you all at once. Memories of hands grabbing you, blades slicing your skin, spice on your lips… all came flooding in. You thrashed in your sleep, your voice crying out for everything to stop.

“Hey,” a voice whispered. “Hey, it’s alright.”

You startled awake, the pull of the voice enough to draw you out of the trance inside your mind. Mando caressed your hand, rubbing circles over your knuckles. You couldn’t hide the flinch in your body as he touched you, and he drew his hand away.

“I’m leaving,” he said. “You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was hoarse from the screams.

“Wear your comlink in case anything happens. I’ll check in on and off to make sure you’re okay. Just stay on the ship.”

“Okay.”

He slid the comlink onto your wrist, his touch lingering on your skin. You rubbed your eyes, looking at Mando for one last time. You memorized the pieces of armor covering his body and the helmet that stared down at you. For the last time, you wondered what his eyes looked like behind the visor. 

This was it. This was goodbye.

He moved to the weaponry wall, pulling out a blaster and tucking it into his belt. You noted that he left it unlocked for your benefit. He trusted you with it. And that hurt. All the trust you had built would be gone in a mere few hours. 

“Mando,” you called out.

He turned to you.

“Be safe, okay?”

“Always, angel.”

You watched as the night swallowed him, the darkness of the ramp closing the only thing left between you and him. 

This was goodbye. 

** 

He had him cornered. Through the thick weeds that framed the lake, Mando could spot the thermal footprints that the quarry had left behind. After countless hours of hunting, Mando finally had eyes on the bounty. He had sent her a message through the comlink that he’d be gone longer than expected—the bounty was quick, and Mando had a lot of space to cover. He hadn’t heard a response and figured she was asleep again. He hated the thought of her alone with her nightmares; the screams that erupted from her when he woke her were enough to make him reconsider staying. But he needed this hunt. He needed to clear his mind.

Mando pulled his blaster from his weaponry belt, keeping it low and close to his thigh as he trudged through the overgrown forestry around him. The quarry’s eyes peeked through the greenery, connecting with the tinted visor for only a moment.

But it was the only moment Mando needed.

He took his shot… and he missed. Mando never missed a shot. The quarry took off again, furthering the distance between them. His emotions were clouding his skills, and he knew the thought of her forced his hand unsteady. If he had felt strongly for her before, he couldn’t comprehend what this feeling was now. It consumed every thought, every breath, every move of his muscles. 

Sucking in a breath, Mando sent another message to her. This bounty would take up more of his time, which meant he wouldn’t return till later in the day tomorrow. He was miles out from the Crest, and the trek back with a body in tow would only slow him down. 

He realized there still hadn’t been a response from her, only static through the comlink.

“Hey, answer me,” he bit out, the message meeting more static air on the other end. 

“Answer me, dammit!” He wasn’t angry. He was scared. 

He called into his comlink more times than he should have allowed, the time wasted adding up quickly. He was scared, and he still had the quarry to track down. The bounty reward wasn’t high enough— nothing would be high enough— to risk her safety. 

Mando shot into a full sprint towards the Crest, calling into the comlink continuously. The sound of the static drowned out in his ears, the world collapsing around him. He didn’t stop running, letting the miles separating him and the Crest fall away with each stride. 

Finally, in view of the Crest, Mando broke into a sweat as he pushed himself past his fastest pace, knees giving out as his boots hit the ramp as it lowered. Everything looked as it was from the ship's outside: no sign of scavengers or guild members anywhere. Everything inside looked as he remembered: no sign of struggle or fight anywhere. He continued to call her name as he searched the entirety of the ship, coming up empty as he ran back down the ramp to check the perimeter.

“Fuck!” He yelled, pounding his fist into the side of the spacecraft. The metal rattled under the force of the hit, the sound reverberating around him. 

He had told her to stay on the ship. He told her. And she agreed. So, he didn’t understand why she was gone? She would have at least alerted him through the comlink, or maybe she was too fearful to interfere with the hunt. Either way, she shouldn’t be gone. 

The only thing he thought to do was hunt her down. It was the only thing he could do, the fear creeping in as he switched his visor to thermo-tracking. Her footprints lit up in red, vibrantly contrasting the darkened grass. They tracked north, the staggered spacing hinting at the fact she had been running. Still fearful, Mando considered the awful idea that she had been chased down. But there were no other footprints, and he couldn’t recall any ships that had flown overhead.

So, what the fuck did she run from?

Mando considered flying the Crest and tracking her overhead, but he wouldn’t know where her footprints started and ended. He continued on foot, running through the overgrown bushes and grass, slashing away at the greenery with his vibroblade. He had been gone from the ship for nearly half a day and had no clue where she would be. Could she have been taken off the planet? If she had, Mando would have seen or heard some sort of transmission in his comlink. But everything had been quiet those few hours.

 It had been dreadfully silent as he hunted down the quarry. 

Reaching out through the comlink again, Mando called for her, hopeful she still had her comlink on her wrist. With nothing but static feedback, Mando confirmed that it wasn’t functional any longer, the silence growing louder around him. Focusing on the outline of her footprints, he noticed a slowing pace in her running— evidence that she couldn’t have advanced much further. Switching to the body heat scanner, Mando swept the area around him, noticing the forestry open into a vast expanse of land without coverage. There were no traces of her body heat, but phantom footprints still staggered through the clearing.

Switching his scanners off, Mando gazed into the sky, watching dusk fall upon him. He felt beyond helpless knowing he could be losing her— even worse; he couldn’t understand why. If no one had been chasing her, if no one had kidnapped her, then why was she gone? He couldn’t recall any notion as to why she would choose to run. Mando had let his vulnerability win, the strength of his attachment outweighing the risks that threatened his loyalty to the Creed. 

He was ready to give all of himself to her, so why was she gone?

His body was fatigued past over-exertion, from the race to the ship and now tracking her footprints. But he wouldn’t let exhaustion win— he had gone far longer without sleep. Countless bounties had taken days to track down, even so far as a week; staying awake and finding her wasn’t even a question. He would find her.

He’d tear the galaxy apart until he found her. 

Whether he was ready to admit it, she had become his Creed, his loyalty to her bleeding out into the universe surrounding him. 

Nightfall came quickly, the beskar armor illuminated by the waning moons above him. Mando switched his helmet to night vision as he continuously scavenged the ground for lingering pieces of her. Every footprint proved she was still alive; that was all he needed to push forward. The sound of frogs in the distance was the only noise to fill the humid air around him— their sounds were a lullaby to his nightmare. Mando could recall every feature in her face: the scrunch of her nose, the constellations of freckles over her cheeks, that wrinkle between her brows he always wanted to smooth over. Over and over again, he forced himself to reimagine the way she looked, the way she felt in his hands, the sound of her voice when she was soft and under his body. The memory of her was all he had left as he ran across the planet, desperate to turn the memories into rediscovered reality. He wouldn’t— he couldn’t — let her go. 

Mando’s steps faltered as hushed chatter in the east fell upon his ears. He focused in on the noise, making out words that alluded to the terrain and creatures around it— farmers. Stepping out of the shadows, Mando approached them slowly, his posture more friendly than predatory. 

“Hello,” his voice was hoarse from yelling. He cleared it, saying ‘hello’ again. 

The farmers turned to him with startled gasps, their grip on their hunting spears tightening. Mando raised his hands, surrendering his power to gain any knowledge they possessed.

“You are… bounty hunter?” One asked, their accent thick.

Mando nodded, his hands lowering to his sides. He made it a point to keep his hand from his blaster, proving to them that he was no threat.

“I need information,” he began, “I’m looking for someone. Have you seen anyone pass through this area?”

The men looked at each other, their expressions mixed with confusion and fear. The man who had first spoken turned back to Mando, and his chin lifted higher as he regained more confidence.

“We see one girl,” he informed Mando. Mando’s weight shifted, his heart drumming inside his ears.

“Did you speak to her?” He pressed.

The man shook his head, pointing his spear towards the trees.

“She goes north.”

“How long ago was this?” 

“Maybe half day, we not sure,” he shrugged. 

Mando was visibly frustrated, his body language tensing with each exchange of words. He had been tailing her the entire time, yet felt even more behind than he was at the start. If she had more than half a day’s running start, she could be near the north docking port faster than he could get to her. 

The docking port.

The pieces aligned in his head in a dizzying blur; she was leaving him. She had waited for Mando to take the bounty, leave her on the ship, and weaponize his vulnerability against him. He had been so distracted by the bounty even to consider her running, yet it had never even been a passing thought in the first place. How could she leave after he laid out his rawest parts? After she showed him her deepest secrets. He had submitted to her, letting her swim in his soul's depths. And she left him. 

In a daze of tangled thoughts, Mando disregarded all gratitude towards the farmers as he shot into a sprint towards the north, the instincts of a hunter fueling the anger that blinded him. It took her half a day to distance herself; it would take him an hour to catch her. He was no longer searching in fear. He was searching in unbridled rage. 

His pace continued steady as he waded through the terrain heading north. He could hear faint rustling in the bushes, a few scattered animals running away at the sound of his boots. Her footprints in the grass lit a brighter red on his visor, their freshness proving that he was getting closer. He could see far off in the distance that night was quickly turning to morning, the hue of sunrise falling upon the horizon. The first ship off-planet would be coming soon enough, as would her chance to leave. Mando couldn’t allow it. 

He yelled her name into the comlink, voice rugged and labored as he continued running. He didn’t know if her comlink was still on her, but he wouldn’t give up. He would keep trying, and trying, and trying. He couldn’t lose her. 

Not this easily. 

As he trailed her footprints closer, he noticed their imprints in the muddy ground below him, making it easier to track without night vision. The impressions went deeper in the ground, proof that she was using more weight to run and was still en route to the north port. Mando quickened his speed, knowing he was going to catch her.

The path through the trees he had followed began to open up into a large expanse of flower beds and bushes. Several flower beds had been destroyed, their petals and stems crushed— her destructive mark left all over them. Scanning the perimeter of the expanse, his eyes fell upon a shadowed silhouette shaded by a large tree towards the northeast corner of the clearing.

It was her.

Her in all her terrifying beauty; her hair tousled into a bun, her clothes covered in mud and grass stains, her skin dirtied and marked with scratches from thorns and bushes. Though his heart pounded heavy in his chest, and there was a haze of anger over his eyes, relief washed over Mando as his eyes settled on the familiarity of her body. 

It was her.

She didn’t have to turn to know he was there, her body rigid as he continued staring. She had done the same when he had hunted her the first time, her skin paling as if she had seen a ghost. Now, he was a ghost haunting her, seeking remnants of an attachment that had faded away with the moon's glow. Mando stepped forward again, meeting her gaze as she turned to look upon him with an expression he could only understand as guilt. He stalked her slowly, watching her body shiver from the morning breeze that floated over the sunrise as it passed the horizon. Her eyes grew wide, watching as he walked forward slowly, his hand hovering over his blaster. He wouldn’t shoot her; he never would even think of it, but it was an instinctual reaction to inflict fear into her. He wanted her scared. He wanted her to feel every emotion he felt throughout the last day. The fear, the loss, the anger. 

Mando wanted her to understand everything he felt. 

**

The sun’s reflection bouncing off metal was unmistakable even from yards away. You half expected him to let you leave, to wipe his hands clean of a nuisance bounty, and continue through the galaxy. The other half secretly hoped he would hunt you down, tearing apart half the outer rim to find you. It took him less than a day, and you were helplessly alone in the grassy field without a place to hide. Would he have found you faster if he had not been tied up with the bounty? Your plan didn’t have much thought put into it, only the aspect of running. And you must not have done a good enough job if a man covered in beskar steel was walking towards you. 

His stride was slow– intentional– the sway of his weaponry belt shifting into view with every step. You weren’t blind to the fact his hand coasted over the gun holster on his hip, his fingers inches from ending your life. If you were even to tense an arm muscle, your core would be split in two from the plasma beams. Dying at his hand would be more honorable than any other death, and you subconsciously welcomed such a departure from the space you occupied. He had already destroyed you in ways beyond repair, leaving your body and soul torn into pieces. You were a bounty, nothing more. But that couldn’t overturn the emotions that had been festering inside you, nor could it make you forget the way you ached for him physically and emotionally. Giving your body to him wasn’t what hurt; it was knowing your heart was slowly falling into his hands… and you knew he might not treat your heart as kind as he did your body. He was a Mandalorian, a child of the Watch; he knew only of loyalty. Loyalty and love were not the same. 

His pace slowed, stopping only a few yards from you. The familiar black visor was trained on you, and you felt like an animal caught in a trap. You had been here before with him, on Coruscant, but this was different. You hadn’t fucked him yet, slept beside him, or listened to him speak of things he kept hidden. You were a bounty.

 Just. A. Bounty. 

“You left.” There was an apparent inflection in his tone. It cut deep into your chest, tearing you open as you realized how wrong your decision had been. 

“I wanted my freedom,” you spoke through the lump in your throat. 

“And I’m working on giving that to you,”  he countered, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, hand still hovering over the blaster. 

“I can’t keep waiting, Mando. What if you don’t find Kesi? I can survive on my own. I’ve done it before.”

His helmet tilted slightly, and you knew he must have been eyeing you intensely under the protection of the metal. 

“Do you not trust me? I swore I would find him and kill him. Is that not enough?”

“I– yes, fuck, it is enough. I just don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” He repeated your words as if tasting your doubts on his tongue. “You don’t know.”

He stepped forward, looping his thumbs into the waistband of his belt. He sized you up and down, his helmet resting on your face again. 

“How long did you think you could outrun me?” The question was out of genuine curiosity. 

“I thought that if I got far enough, you would forget me and carry on with your life.” Your voice was shaky– uncertain. You lacked confidence even in your persuasion. Why were you trying to persuade yourself that your actions were for his betterment? 

“You thought I would forget you?” There was that inflection again, the spike in octave that shot daggers inside your chest, through your ribcage, and right into your heart. You wished you had armor like his so you wouldn’t feel your heart breaking. 

“I’m only a bounty, aren’t I?” 

“No,” his helmet moved slowly in disagreement. “You aren’t just a bounty, and you’re wrong to think I would forget you.”

Tears stung your waterline as you felt defeat in his words. Just as he had slipped under your skin, into the folds of your brain… you had slipped into his. 

You aren’t just a bounty. 

Even if you were, he would have come here with an intent to kill, and you would have had no chance at negotiations. 

But this was different. You were different. 

“Mando—.”

“I have considered destroying my Creed for you, and you left,” his voice rose in anger. “I have made sacrifices to ensure that my loyalty for Mandalore would never falter, and I’m willing to destroy it all for you. And now you think I’ll just forget you?”

You let out a faint whine, a sob lodging in your chest. How could you say anything to that? The man who was rough around the edges, with a heart you thought to be too cold ever to feel… was wholly undone before you. 

“You left me and took every piece of me with you.”

His helmet bowed down, the visor looking towards the ground. There was pain inside him far beyond the reach of your betrayal. 

“I would never ask you to go against your Creed for me, you know that. I’m not worth it,” you whispered. “I understand the severity of your lifestyle, and I wouldn’t let you do that. You didn’t break your Creed for Omera, and you definitely shouldn’t do it for me.”

“I know you would never ask,” he sighed. “That’s what hurts more. I have given pieces of myself to you that I can’t have back. I’ve let myself become too attached…and now I don’t know how to let you go.”

“I’m not worth it,” you repeated. The tears spilled down your cheeks as you watched Mando’s head raise to meet yours. 

“You are the only person worthy of knowing me.” He pulled your hand to the dewy beskar on his chest, “I am yours.”

The tears coasted down your cheeks, traces of guilt covering your face as you watched him step forward again. Your back was flush against the trunk of a sapling tree, leaving no room to escape the trap he put you in. Your mouth opened, yet silence fell off your tongue. 

“Tell me you want to leave.” 

Tell me to stop. 

He had begged you in a similar way before to resist him and his advances. His loyalty to the Creed prevented him from getting close; his armor was more than just a shield for his body. Every emotion, every fracture of his mind, was closed off to you and the rest of the galaxy. You had spent countless days and weeks trying to break through the armor, to even make a fraction of a dent into the metal that guarded him. But now… now you succeeded– the man behind the armor coming completely undone in your presence. It tore your heart apart knowing your ignorance had led to this. 

“I can’t—.”

“Say it!” His voice rose higher. “Tell me you don’t want to stay!”

“Mando, you knew I wanted freedom.” You were losing the battle in front of you, giving into the temptation that blurred the lines between love and desperation.

He swarmed your body, invading the only space that had remained between both of your bodies. He pulled your arms into a vice between his hands, his grip bruising your skin. You winced, eyes pleading for some sort of humanity behind his mask. You dug your heels into the damp soil around you, grounding yourself against the pull of his hold. 

“I’m going to give you that, so why can’t you wait?” His voice was sharp, biting at the air between you. “Why now?” 

“I– I don’t know!” You were exasperated, finding no words to describe the jumbled mess of thoughts fogging your mind.

 “I’m sorry,” was all you came up with. 

“Tell me you want to leave,” he repeated his plea, his breathing labored. 

You hesitated a moment, sucking in a chestful of air. Freedom was at your fingertips, but was it worth all that could be lost? 

“No.”

When he didn’t react to your words, you repeated it. “No.”

His grip fell from your arms, his boots crunching on fallen leaves as he stepped back. His body language showed all signs of being stunned, his stagger backward more reminiscent of someone being shot rather than being told ‘no.’ 

You managed to push yourself off the tree, feeling stray wooden shards stuck to the fabric of your shirt— some even burrowing into your skin. You paid no mind to the stinging sensation prickling along your body.

“I don’t want to leave,” your voice barely above a whisper. “I was selfish to think I could go without hurting you.” His helmet stayed trained on you, unmoving. “Or hurting myself,” you added. 

“Mando,” you continued, “I want— wanted freedom. I have been on the run for months. Ever since my parents died, I have been alone. This is different for me; you’re different. I’m scared of feeling attached because it’s not lost on me that you have no obligation to attachment. Attachment isn’t part of your Creed, and I can’t do that to myself. I can’t do that to you.” you repressed a cry, “I don’t know what to do now because I am irrationally attached to you. Irrational enough to run and keep my distance just for the sake of not breaking my own heart.”

Mando was agonizingly quiet, the rise of his chest under the breastplate being the only indication he was still alive. You picked at the wooden shards stuck to your shirt, wincing at the ones stuck into the thick of your skin. Gloved hands covered yours, pulling a splinter from your forearm carefully. Your eyes lifted to see him towering over you; helmet tilted as he considered your words— and tears.

“I’m sorry for running,” you let the sobs escape your chest, breaking the barrier that you tried to build up so high.

All that you could think to do was wrap your arms around his torso, nearly pushing him over with the force of your body colliding with his. Your nose pressed against the beskar, inhaling the familiar smell of smoke and fire flooding your senses. It took a moment to feel his arms wrap around you, but you were encapsulated in his hold the second they did. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered over and over again. It was all you could say, the only words that could subdue the swelling silence between you. 

“Shhh,” his voice was so soft, softer than you had ever heard. It struck a chord inside you, playing your heart to the tune of his baritone. You let the sound vibrate through your body, arms squeezing tighter around his back. 

“You shouldn’t feel—.”

“I know,” you quickly responded. “Trust me, I know.”

“I can’t—.”

“I know.”

“I can’t let you go,” he finished, despite your interjections. “There isn’t a corner of this galaxy you could run to where I wouldn’t find you. I would hunt you down just to keep you as mine.”

Mine.

Mine.

The possessiveness on his tongue was like honey, seeping into your veins, rearranging the molecules that made up your entire being. You were his, even from the start. You had begged him to keep you, absentmindedly wishing he would protect you from all that lingered in your past. And he did. Without question. Without asking for anything in return. Perhaps you were the reward after all.

You tried forming words, tried making sense of any coherent thought that could describe the way his admission inflicted the emotions inside you. The only sound to escape was a whimper that drifted between the small space between you. 

“Don’t leave me again.” He pressed his helmet to your forehead, a reflection of your tearful face staring back at you in the visor. You wished so badly to see his eyes despite knowing how wrong it was. You wanted to know how he looked in this moment; the pain, the anger, the relief… all of it. He was the one constant in your life, the person who had stuck by your side and protected you. And you hurt him. You could never live with yourself knowing you would have left him hollow and broken. He was your home. He was your freedom. No matter where you ended up in the galaxy, he would always be where you felt safest.

“I won’t, I promise.”

You peeled away from his embrace, brushing off the dirt littering your vest. The port was still miles away, and you knew you would never reach it. Mando would have gotten to you before you set foot on a transport. It was laughable to think about now. 

“It’s going to take at least two standard days to return to the Crest,” you sighed. 

“I don’t care.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

Mando shook his head, pulling your hand into his to lead you south. 

“We’ll find shelter somewhere tonight and make the rest of the travel tomorrow. I’ve got you now. That’s all that matters.”

The remainder of the day was spent walking in silence, and Mando never let go of your hand. Ever so often, he’d squeeze his thumb against your knuckles, a reminder he was there. You stole glances at him occasionally only to realize he was doing the same. 

“Do you hate me?” You asked after a few hours of no conversation. 

“No,” he answered. 

“I hurt you.”

“I’m okay, angel. I was more scared something worse had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mando stopped walking, turning you toward him to capture your full attention. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Always,” you whispered. 

“Then trust me when I say I’m not angry. Not anymore, at least. I understand why you decided to run, but I need you to promise me you’ll stay. Let me give you the freedom I promised you. Don’t go without saying goodbye.”

Your lips trembled, and you nodded solemnly. 

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to say goodbye.”

“Then don’t.”

“What’re you saying, Mando?”

“Stay. I’ll protect you. I’ll give you whatever you want, so long as you stay.”

You chewed on your lip as you contemplated his offer. You had freedom at the tip of your fingers, yet the temptation to stay swayed your mind. 

“Maybe.”

He nodded, looking towards the trees before you.

“Where does this leave us?” You asked.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. 

You squeezed his hand this time and ushered him to keep walking. You were safe, and for now, you were his.

[fromdove]

seeing my man with his canonical love interest 💔💔💔💔

[bakugoos]

satoru gojo who broke up with you first, apparently because "he had too much on his mind" and couldn't handle a relationship at the moment.

satoru gojo who regretted it the very next day, waking up alone in bed instead of finding you beside him.

satoru gojo who tried to thug it out, telling himself he wasn't the type to care. he was a womanizer, he just messed around. so why did he find himself thinking about you so often?

satoru gojo who texted you while drunk one week after he broke up with you, saying "i miss u."

satoru gojo who found himself going absolutely crazy with anguish when you didn't reply for the next three days.

satoru gojo who showed up at your door at 3 am on a tuesday, begging you to take him back. saying he promised he'd never hurt you again, that your absence was killing him. that he missed your smell, playing with your hair, hugging you from behind while you made breakfast for him.

satoru gojo who thanked the gods when you finally took him back after three weeks of trying to convince you.

satoru gojo who found himself unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. buying you flowers randomly, trying his best to get out of work earlier just to spend more time with you, making dinner so you could rest, even making little diy gifts because he knew how much you loved them

satoru gojo who kept his promise and made you the happiest girl ever

written by @bakugoos do not plagiarize.

[andthekitchensinkao3]

TBD chapter 5: The Lie

I am so close to finishing this chapter, I can almost taste it!

And Astarion is SUCH a BITCH.

ngl even I hate him a bit for how nasty and conniving and manipulative he is.

I feel so sorry for Emmrich T_T Don't worry Emmy baby, he's gonna realize how wonderful you actually are, he just needs a little time.

[sparkleshakes]

I’M TIRED OF SMUT, I WANT TOOTH ACHING FLUFF AND HEART SHATTERING ANGST.