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laughing-with-god · 4 years ago

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The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook��s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note: So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next. The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life. Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ. Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol. This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments. Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads once again for creating the cover art for this fic. They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic. They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar. They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while. I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.

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anchovies-4-dinner · 2 years ago

Text

A Matter of Trust | Yan! Kazuha

What if: Kazuha's trust is not so easily regained

Words: 5.2k

Warnings: Tomo breadcrumbs

A/N: Merry Christmas guys 🥳, will probably re edit

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From the day you were born the world pitied you.

Caregivers and suitors alike found you a hassle. Your parents cushioned you as if you were glass. Unable to see the beauties of the world this child grew restless in their plight and resorted to creating their own escape; instruments of various size and features littered their room, more like trinkets than the intended purpose.

‘Till their fingers bled and voice drained hoarse their melodies sang of their longing for something greater. Finally, their pleas were answered.

An unordinary winter night filled with notes, each played to perfection despite the frigid temperature. Thanks to the bumbling thermal mass in front you felt like you were sitting next to a fire.

Occasionally the ringing of mora would elicit a grateful smile and a nod, but what was the correct response for an animal purring against you?

A hiss cut the air before cold hands brushed your thigh to drag away the creature but you simply chuckled, “Let it stay, I don’t mind having a companion for a while. If you spare me some mora I could even play you a tune in the meantime.”

“Well, if you insist.” A confident voice replied before whispering to someone else, “Hey do you have any mora?”

“You blew it all at the market, friend. I’m afraid we’ve only half a penny to our name until we arrive back.”

It was quiet for a while and you almost forgot their presence until one of them (the noticeably taller one) slid down the wall you were leaning against to sit. The shorter followed suit. You were used to some hanging around for a respite from daily life but none had struck up a conversation before now.

“So… How long have you been blind?”

Of all topics… His companion rightfully smacked the daylights out of Tall and profusely apologised to which you shook your head, “It’s quite alright, but if you must know I was just born like this. No hilichurl or slime I’m afraid. And what about you, how did you get your vision?”

“Hah? I thought you were blind.” Tall’s vision wasn’t activated but you could feel its pulsing heat. On the other hand Short’s vision was felt more like summer air.

“Visions are pretty versatile. I had to make do with what I got.”

“Which is?”

You quelled a cheeky grin, “Did you ever wonder how I kept warm in this weather?”

He coughed, “Well, to answer your first question it was no easy feat. You see, I was out when-”

“He begged for it.” This time Short was the one getting grabbed and manhandled. Despite this he continued, “Every day and night- he even tried sending offerings to our Archon!”

“You gremlin!” Short let out a pained laugh at his friend’s humiliation, “As if yours is any better, all you had to do was think about your sword!”

The cat hissed when it was jostled and bit its owner to which Tall yelped. You could feel eyes on your little group yet you couldn’t help but laugh at their tomfoolery, not like you weren’t used to the former anyway.

When they finally settled Tall cleared his throat, “I suppose you have a more interesting story then? Not unlike ours.”

You practically felt the glare Tall sent his friend. “Not really, I was just cold when performing.”

“What…”

“Poor Tomo. I guess you just prayed to the wrong Archon.” Short didn’t sound sympathetic at all, “But how rude of us, we didn’t introduce ourselves at all.”

Tall went ignored - ’Don’t try acting like a gentleman now!’ - as you felt Short practically climb over him, “I’m Kazuha and he’s Tomo. That’s his cat, Cat.”

“… Just Cat?”

“A bit uncreative, I know.”

“Well I’m (Y/n). Nice to meet you three.” You smiled and held out a hand for him to shake, only for your knuckles to be kissed instead.

“Alright!” Kazuha was ripped away and you heard the crunch of snow, “I get you find them attractive! Get to the point already!”

Kazuha’s body temperature rose considerably and he grunted from being pushed, “If it’s ok with you, we were wondering if you would be interested in travelling with us? We understand if you don’t want to.”

The man waited with bated breath as you deliberated over his words. Kazuha… you’ve heard of the fall of his clan and his status of a wanderer. Obviously you should decline his offer because you hardly knew him (not to mention Tomo the Total Stranger), but going back to your golden cage?

You leaned forward. The two leaned closer.

“I’d love to, but they’re watching.”

That would’ve been enough to deter anyone, but Kazuha was a special kind of determined. “Not to worry. We’re experienced in escape.”

“That doesn’t sound shady at all”

The two stood up and you followed suit, trembling hands gripping your Gottan in anticipation. You felt Cat leave your side to duck into Tomo’s clothes. A warm hand shyly took your hand and you squeezed back:

“Let’s get out of here.”

You started walking with Kazuha while Tomo hung back slightly. Shuffling through the crowd made you slightly nervous but the ex-Lord’s constant temperature grounded you. Tomo’s on the other hand simmered and spiked when he suddenly urged you both forward.

Despite the overwhelming mass of bodies, you barely managed to track the familiar heat of your bodyguards your parents assigned to you. Weaving through the dense mob proved an arduous task, especially seeing as it was a festival, but Kazuha’s vision - anemo, you presumed - helped to make a quick path.

After ducking into alleys and turning corners you felt cold air slap your face as you emerged from the streets. Shouts sounded from behind but were drowned by the roar of wind; you gasped when you were abruptly swept off your feet, clutching Kazuha and your Gottan for dear life.

“Hold on tight.”

That was all the warning you got before a wave of lightness took over your form. Hair whipped your face. Tomo whooped. Kazuha chuckled. You laughed.

It was reckless. Impulsive. And you loved it.

…

“So, you find me attractive?”

The fire burned hot, but Kazuha burned hotter. “Is that weird? Considering this is the first time we’ve officially met.”

“I’d be lying if I said it was. I’ve heard a lot of you during those banquets and what not, I admit I’m no different than those who fawn over you.”

You were both in a cave surrounding a fire. Tomo went out to catch some fish and to ’give you love birds some space’. How thoughtful.

“Had I known, our situation would be very different from now.”

A grin wormed its way up as you thumbed the strap of your Gottan, “I doubt my parents would allow our marriage anyhow; even the Almighty Shogun wouldn’t be good enough for me apparently.”

“I can see why.” You felt the flame lick your face though you were a good few feet away. Increased sensitivity would do that to you. “Will you miss them?”

“Gods no. All they do is coddle me to death.” That was that. Any attempts to prod into your family was shut down.

It was slightly uncomfortable sleeping on the cold hard floor but Cat provided a lot of comfort, much to the chagrin of Tomo; the latter was now knocked out cold despite his complaints.

Unbeknownst to you Kazuha stared at your figure. A soft smiled graced his lips.

…

“Cat, what are you doing? Have you forgotten who your true owner is?!”

“Meow.”

Tittering of birds complimented your melody as you all sat on the beach; the snow had long since melted and summer was in full bloom. Despite this Cat still clung to you or Kazuha, never Tomo. What a devious animal. Unfortunately her method seemed to be doing wonders as Tomo no later offered his morsel of fish for just one stroke of fur.

Speaking of Kazuha he was lounging on the rock you were leaning against, occasionally chipping in with his own tune via leaf. Someday you’ll buy him a proper flute.

The peace was interrupted when you felt warm hands brush your hair. “A storm is brewing. It would be wise to find shelter soon.”

“In how many minutes? I’m really enjoying my tan right now.” Tomo sighed and cracked his bones.

“Unless you fancy being struck by lightning, I would advise against staying for more than, let’s say, a minute.”

“Alright, alright, I’m up.”

It didn’t take long for you to find shelter in a hotel, and just as Kazuha predicted the weather turned for the worse.

You sighed, “Such a lovely day isn’t it. How long do you think it’ll last this time? I say two hours, and Kazuha don’t say anything.”

“Hold on, let me telepathically tune in to Baal’s thoughts.” Tomo made a show of straining his non-existent power which was the equivalent to someone crapping themselves, “Hnnng a day.”

“Really?”

“I think someone with electro has a better chance of predicting a storm wouldn’t you say?”

“Last time I checked I was the one to-” Kazuha was cut off by his friend shifting on his bed and waving his hand carelessly.

“Blah blah blah. Come back to me when you got your money ready 'cause I’m not forecasting for free ya know.”

It was funny at first, until it wasn’t.

“It really did last all day…”

Even Kazuha couldn’t predict that. You all crowded around the window showcasing the absolute carnage; you on the other hand could only feel the heavy vibrations.

“You know, it’s been stormy these past few weeks. What’s up with that?” You asked Kazuha.

“Don’t ask me, ask Mr weather forecaster.” Kazuha redirected to Tomo.

“Hmm, yes.” Tomo concluded intelligently. “Kazuha, do that lizard thing again.”

“I’m not poking my tongue out the window Tomo.”

Their squabble was interrupted by a knock on the door. Upon opening Kazuha picked up what seemed to be a newspaper. You felt his blood turn cold as he read aloud:

“NEW: Vision Hunt Decree and Sakoku Decree have been enacted…”

…

How long has it been since you felt the sun? Every time you emerged with your disguise it felt no different from staying inside. It was the same stifling atmosphere with everyone on edge from the Tenryou Commission marching the streets; the new laws were barked and ingrained into everyone’s skull everyday.

Public vision confiscations were held often. More and more wanted posters piled up on the local dashboard, yet both you and Tomo wanted to stay.

“Why-” Kazuha trembled, “What is there left for us?”

“Leave if you have to Kazuha. In fact, we’d prefer it if you escaped far from here.” You shrugged on your disguise as did Tomo, “We’ve already agreed to work with the resistance. Do as you like.”

You regretted your cold tone but you deigned to correct yourself, nerves jittery from the prospect of war. For the longest time Kazuha didn’t speak; his temperature stayed constant, though it just served to unsettle you even more.

Tomo was uncharacteristically quiet as well, stepping towards his friend to hand over the struggling Cat to the safer option. Kazuha refused.

“You guys…” Kazuha’s voice was wet yet resolute, “Where are we going?”

…

Unlike Tomo and Kazuha who were sent to Watatsumi Island you were stationed in Inazuma City; your job was to communicate with other resistance members through your mask of a street musician.

Kazuha was understandably perturbed over this decision and you had to settle for a few visits per week from him, and in the case he couldn’t Tomo came in his steed. You never directly interacted to avoid suspicion.

Despite this you could always immediately sense him; his calming presence was difficult to ignore after all.

No one suspected you. Missions were completed without fault. Kazuha grew too comfortable.

“(Y/n) (L/n), you are hereby under arrest for possessing a vision. Surrender peacefully and the Shogun may show her mercy.”

Somehow you knew this day would come. You clutched your gottan as the soldiers approached, perhaps too relaxed at facing a blind vision holder. Their mistake.

With a sudden strum a flood of fire enveloped the men as you hurriedly made your getaway. The escape route had been drilled into you by none other than your lover and you made good use of it, aided by subtle pyro marks left for guidance - until you reached a dead end. How could that be? No one ever uses this route…

It didn’t take long for your enemies to catch up helped by bystanders who were too afraid to lie. Still you fought valiantly, playing the agreed distress notes. All you had to do was last until reinforcements arrived.

The mixture of flames and bodies proved overwhelming, yet your fingers played and played and played 'till they bled and each strum felt like dragging a razor across your flesh. Retched stench of burned skin made you gag. You couldn’t even curl your fist, let alone feel your hand.

Eventually your show came to an end when Sara herself came as the swift victor; within one strike you were downed and taken for judgement.

In the end no one came to save you.

…

Tomo stared at his mess of a friend who collapsed on the floor. His calloused hand squeezed Kazuha’s shoulder.

“Kazuha, we’ll save them. Promise.”

He knew what he had to do.

…

After the public affair you were locked in a plush room. Stripped of hopes and ambitions

you lay blank in your bed, a couple occasionally intruding to vent their suppressed feelings and chide you for your 'stupid and mindless rebellion’.

Being tied and stripped of your most crucial sense hollowed you. Perhaps this was what encouraged to confess their deepest betrayal:

“Silly child. Have your adventures not taught you to be so naive? Those 'allies’ of yours are not so much different from nobles, one glimpse of gold and they’re already stabbing your back.”

No matter how harsh the fire inside you burned you couldn’t find it in yourself to refute.

You didn’t know how long it was until bloodcurdling screams erupted in the middle of the night. Heavy footsteps approached your room; the door lock clicked and the wash of familiar perfume urged you to rise from bed. She didn’t get very far when the door was knocked off its hinges.

All was quiet.

Warm liquid pooled beneath your feet as you were abruptly embraced. A man spilled apologies into your clothes which grew stickier, the smell of metal making your nose crinkle. Shouting interrupted your moment and you were once again whisked off into the summer night air.

After a good round of jostling you were brought to a complete halt. The man sucked in a breath before continuing - no later did you hear the rolling of waves and the man desperately shout:

“E-Excuse me!”

After an exchange of words you were shakily handed off to someone else with a bit of difficulty (the man’s hands seemed to be gripping your skin too tightly) before his footsteps faded again. The person huffed and set you down on a bed somewhere unstable.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we? Didn’t think I’d meet you like this but I guess fate has a funny way of doing things eh?”

At your lack of response she awkwardly returned to plop something soft into your lap; at this moment the room door creaked open.

“Kazuha…”

“… I’ll explain later. Thanks for taking us in.”

The woman left with a soft click of the door. The bed dipped as 'Kazuha’ hesitantly undressed you to your last layers (which were thankfully clean). It wasn’t until he was wiping away the blood that the silence was broken:

“Tomo is dead.”

Something small inside you broke. You know you should be doing something but all you could muster was a nod. At this the gentle hands twitched.

“Tomo… that fool couldn’t have picked a worse distraction could he? I guess he was finally done hiding.” The man coughed a pathetic laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not protecting you like I should have, the both of you.”

Washing was completely abandoned in favour of gripping your arms - his right was alarmingly tender.

'Kazuha’s’ voice trembled, “You’re the only one I have left. Tell me you won’t leave me and follow his fate.”

You remained silent. Hot droplets ran down your cheeks; they weren’t your own.

“(Y/n), say something. Anything.”

“… Who are you?”

…

The most of your days were spent bed ridden. If you were to leave your room for a minute 'Kazuha’ would vomit, cry, and beg for you to return. All in that order.

The creaking of wood all around you was stifling, not to mention the frequent lurching which would prompt you to vomit too. Those were the only moments the man would allow you to get a breath of fresh air. It was no different from being in that plush room.

Unless 'Kazuha’ was ripped away from you he would sit and recite melancholy haikus or play a tune on some leaf he managed to catch. Their melodies felt nostalgic but were nothing more than by gone memories, so you gave no acknowledgements.

One day the man returned with a wooden instrument. Your calloused fingers fiddled with the familiar texture of its strings - a Gottan, he called it. Although a bit lofty, from pure muscle memory you assumed the correct position (at least what you thought was correct going by his hopeful words) only for all that tension to fall flat upon your first strum.

Quiet filled the cabin again, accompanied by the discordance of your 'performance’.

When everything would inevitably fall silent, and even rambunctious laughter from your neighbours died down, 'Kazuha’ would lay beside you to press his ear against your chest; the steady rhythm of your heart calmed his jitters and lulled him to a deep sleep. Though his now bandaged arms would still cling on to you as if you would disappear too.

Despite his constant presence your world was still cold.

…

Inazuma’s most historical war occurred right outside your room - and you were asleep for the entirety of it. Only when the familiar heat of your vision was fervently pressed against your palm did you awake.

“The war is over. We’re free (Y/n).”

You’d engulfed the man- Kazuha in a bone crushing hug, tears spilling for your fallen friend and hope for a new future. Though the owner gone his cold vision pressed against your warm bodies as if reciprocating the embrace.

…

“I’ll play you a tune. Free of charge.”

Sand cradled your form as you recreated the bittersweet tune Tomo would often whistle with your gottan, adopted from one of the taverns you visited. When your wavering voice failed Kazuha filled in admittedly less adequately. Cat, recently retrieved from the safety of Watatsumi Island, nestled beside Tomo’s sword.

It wasn’t a perfect goodbye, but it was the best he could hope for.

…

Sailing became your new norm. After thanking Captain Beidou profusely for her generosity you practically pledged your services, settling into your role as a performer and minor combatant.

Within the privacy of your cabin, you’d trace Kazuha’s scarred hand - mangled by Tomo’s pure ambitions - with the plump of your lips. In turn he would kiss your knuckles down to the tips of your fingers, before finally pressing them to his forehead in reverence.

The first night after the war was tough. Even though you were both safe he still clung on tight to you. You didn’t mind before, but now that you regained your heat sensitivity it began to feel suffocating.

…

It didn’t take long until you grew homesick; not once did you set foot in Inazuma no matter how much you pleaded. Despite his calm disposition you would feel his temperature rise with every suggestion, leading to numerous arguments even the crew turned a blind eye to.

A rift grew between the couple. Kazuha must’ve sensed this as he finally relented on the approach to Christmas; as Inazuma’s borders were reopened there were bound to be foreigners introducing the festive spirit.

Docking couldn’t have come sooner as you basically jogged out the Alcor - or would’ve if Kazuha hadn’t kept such a tight hold on your arm. Ever the gentleman.

Usually, Cat would trot up ahead but even the creature didn’t feel like leaving the couple behind. Her claws dug uncomfortably into your clothes; it seemed she couldn’t rid of her habit of nestling deep into her owner.

As you approached the festival the shuffling mass became more and more daunting. Not to mention the added fire fixtures to warm the visitors, it was nothing short of diving into a hot soup of piranhas. Nevertheless, you weren’t one to waste an occasion and resorted to sticking by the walls.

Though it took some time you acclimated to the mood and began enjoying yourself. Music and chatter filled the air (and suddenly you were back to the hopeful street musician who knew only of Inazuma. Strangely you found yourself longing to go back to those times).

After buying a few snacks you finally built up the courage to participate in a few activities; a snowman competition (you’d accidentally melted the entire body), gingerbread house decorating (though Kazuha complimented yours profusely you had a feeling it was subpar), and finally karaoke. At least for the last one you managed to smash the competition, never mind the potential bias from your condition.

Eventually your social battery ran low and you had to retreat to a corner, your lover hot on your heels as always. You’d hoped the jolly atmosphere would wear down his guard but unfortunately not.

“You know you can relax, right? It’s not like a bomb is suddenly going to drop on us.” You sighed as you sat down on a bench.

Your back was bumped from behind and you restrained an eye roll when Kazuha tightly gripped your shoulder, no doubt casting a glare at the one behind.

“One can never know. The world is full of surprises, it’s better to be safe than sorry.” The man squished beside you, eliciting a complaint from Cat as she was semi crushed, “You of all people should know that.”

The fur ball tolerated your squeeze of her paw as you mulled over his words, the once happy atmosphere turning sour. “For every kind person there’ll always be someone 'bad’. It’s just how it is and I’ve learnt to live with it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you should be so careless; you’ve seen how far they’re willing to go and yet to see their limit. I understand Tomo, but you?”

Your face crinkled, “I’m fully capable of defending myself.”

“I know that.”

“I’m also an adult.”

“I know that.”

“Then what are you trying to say?”

Kazuha sighed (and suddenly you were the little child vexing their parents again). “Come. I want to take you somewhere.”

This time he led you not by your side but by a loose tug of your wrist. Every brush of a stranger’s shoulder you anticipated, but it did nothing to help soothe the uneasiness from being smothered and spat out the crowd. Without the human furnaces the elements crept up and you were forced to huddle closer to your lover.

As the voices died down you realised with every turn and step where you were headed. After all, it was hard to forget the path you took every time when sneaking out.

He finally stopped. His rough, bandaged hand guided yours to the sign. From the bumps of the carved letters, it read:

'Residence of the (L/n) Clan’

Even after all this time your home hadn’t been reclaimed?

“There was a ghost story circulating of the fall of your family from a single swordsman. I guess one-man-slaughters are becoming something of a bad omen nowadays.” His chuckle felt misplaced, “How much do you remember?”

“Only the part where we entered the Alcor. Some things are a bit hazy but that’s the most of what I can remember.” It was then your brain kicked into gear and you balked at his nonchalance, “Hold on, my family?”

He hesitated, “Vengeance usually isn’t my cup of tea, but what you parents did was unforgivable. You understand, don’t you?”

Despite everything you couldn’t quell the sharp anger and sorrow; yes, they were shitty, but as much as you hated to admit they really did love you in their own frustrating, horrifically irrational way.

“I… need some time alone.”

It was like a mask cracking; an irritated 'tsk’ broke you out of your thoughts, “You shouldn’t dwell on such troublesome things anymore, they’re not worth your time.”

“What’s gotten into you? No one can just simply move on after having their family removed!” Confusion was evident in your tone, “It’s not like you’ve done so either. Just look at your behaviour in the past year!”

“Unlike you I’m trying to ensure our future by learning from my mistakes. I’ve been patient all this time in hopes you’ll see things from my view, but it seems you aren’t open to that either.”

Cat shuffled as you turned to fully face Kazuha, “But I have, I do see things your way and I just don’t agree with how you’re doing it. We could try for a middle ground but you’re just too stubborn!”

“The last time we went for a middle ground you went and got yourself captured.”

“See! You haven’t moved on-”

“Which is why you can’t expect me to ease up after living with what was practically a corpse. Do you know what happens when someone loses their vision (Y/n)?”

“They temporarily lose their memory? But that only happened to some people, and I guess some changes to behaviour…” You’d heard much about your dull state one too many times.

“And do you know what it felt like?” You swallowed as Kazuha’s temperature rose at a frighteningly steady speed, “To wake up not knowing which day would be your last. To not know what was going on in your head, if you had any thoughts at all. To watch your body deteriorate without being able to do anything. I don’t- will not let that happen again.”

“… Even so you can’t just decide for me. I came with you as an escape from my life, not to be scolded on what’s best for me-” You broke out in sweat as his hot hand grabbed your shoulder.

“I don’t trust you.”

(And suddenly you were the glass child who lost their autonomy)

“I think we should take a break.” Your skin prickled when you felt Kazuha’s eyes sharpen, “I just want some time to think things over. Without you attached to my hip all the time.”

You know that last part stung when even Cat huddled further inside your clothes. You elaborated, “I know you wouldn’t trade exploring the world for anything, and I want to stay in Inazuma. My home. The next time you return let’s play a tune together, yeah? And we’ll figure it out from there.”

Kazuha simply led you back to the festival. You tried enjoying the activities despite the confrontation, but the atmosphere was too awkward. It didn’t help that you were constantly surrounded by so many people; you were always clinging to the walls but now you felt like you’d get heatstroke soon. That thought was certainly not helping.

Ready to be escorted back to the hotel, your hand clutched your lover’s arm-

“Uh, do I know you?”

That was most certainly not Kazuha. You backed up and muttered an apology only to bump into another, “Watch where you’re going!”

At this point anxiety overtook you and you tried shoving past for the familiar, cool texture of wood but you had no idea what direction you were facing. Cursing your lover, your head began to spin from ducking and turning so much it felt like it would physically detach. Cat wasn’t present either, had she run off while you weren’t looking?

Just when you were ready to off yourself a familiar rough hand escorted you to the wall - the safe area. Now given the chance to breathe you hit the man’s chest:

“You asshole, what was that for? You know how I get in crowds yet you pull that shit on me anyway, I can’t believe you!”

Kazuha didn’t respond, though his scorching presence made his feelings clear. Despite having the integrity to lead you back to the hotel he didn’t join you in bed.

…

“Ah, my friend, this sake couldn’t be stronger.”

The sword stood stiff. Kazuha sighed, tightly clutching the throat of the bottle he bought on his way. His red eyes drifted to the white vision staring back at him. Then at his own reflection in the blade of the sword.

At that moment, he knew what he had to do.

…

“What do you mean 'no longer available?’”

“Sorry, but last night there was an incident which cost you your inheritance…”

Your fingers curled on the wooden desk. Your lover hesitated before asking, “What incident?”

The rustling of passed paper pierced the stuffy office as Kazuha read it. No sooner did he excuse you both from the office.

Your home was reduced to ashes. Your fingers no longer traced grooves, but what little remained of the sign. The eye watering smell of burnt material flooded your senses and a wave of nausea made you stumble as you were ushered away by a police officer. A storm of panic swept your mind as your plans you stayed up all night for were ruined. You could only trudge aimlessly through the streets with Kazuha trailing behind.

“There’s nothing left for you here.”

“I could always go back to my old 'job’. Perhaps these people would appreciate some foreign music.”

“A most unstable occupation.”

“There must be some places hiring.”

“Even so…” The last part was left unsaid, yet the implication was clear.

You stopped abruptly and faced the man, “I’m not going on the Alcor, I’ve already told Captain Beidou so you can’t just drag me on.”

“What a coincidence, I told her the same thing.”

“Then what are you getting at?” Uncertainty boiled your stomach as Cat’s whiskers scratched your skin, “Are you staying as well?”

How naive of you. Kazuha merely enveloped you in a hug, “Like you said, I won’t trade exploring the world for anything. If you’d like, we can still visit Inazuma-”

So that’s what he was playing at. Wrinkling your nose in disgust you shoved him away and scoffed, “Ugh, I can’t believe you! I said no so stop badgering me already!”

Upon leaving he made no move to stop you. Good, perhaps he finally got the message-

Vision confiscation affects everyone differently. Kazuha was fortunate enough that your reaction was a compliant state; you didn’t even make it out of his view until the effect settled in.

Ensuring that your vision was kept out of your reach he gently steered you to the boat he’d prepared beforehand. The man couldn’t even look at your face, but as soon as you reached Liyue he would give it back. Promise.

Your vision seared his skin. Unfortunately, Kazuha’s nerves had long been numbed since the war.

(And suddenly you were back where you started)

#yandere Genshin #yandere Kazuha #blind reader #yandere

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no-droids · 4 years ago

Text

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

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

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

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

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

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

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

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

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

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

And it was fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well. Fair.

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking abou—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–6:15am:

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

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

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

***

Day 1–7:06am:

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

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

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

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–12:00am:

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

“Wake up.”

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

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

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

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

No—

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you did. You in another tree?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t need to ask.

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

***

Day 2–5:34am:

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

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

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

Din is asleep? Seriously?

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Op. Not good. “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it. “How long?”

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

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

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

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

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

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh. What the fuck was that?

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

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

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

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

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

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

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

Day 3–12:00am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your coordinates—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 3—2:23am:

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

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

***

To be continued!!

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

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wimble-warcrime · 3 years ago

Text

Call Me Alpha - Part 3

synopsis: the aftermath of the experiment is so much different than you expected, and now you're convinced Bakugou hates you. Little do you know, he's more worried than you think...

warnings: descriptions of injuries to ears, interpreting bakugous actions as aggressive, reader is plain dumb

author notes: I forgot to post this yesterday! I was busy gardening, and my dumbass hadn't even finished it!

Hc's | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part4

The blast was so much louder than you anticipated. Your oversight to bring ear protection did you both in as the two of you collapsed from the ringing and dizziness in your ears.

What felt like an eternity of pain and ringing was really only a few seconds and you felt someone's hands on your back, stroking in a comforting manner. Everything was too quiet and too loud all at once.

You looked up to find your neighbour's mother looking down at you, moving her mouth, yet no sound was coming out. Then you remembered your test subject and made to get up and check on him.

Only when you looked up over the plywood barrier, you saw a significant lack of privacy fencing where it should have been. Singed in some parts, and the neighboring garden was not looking good either.

Your eyes landed on his hunched over form, where his dad was signing to him rapidly. Strange, you didn't know that he knew sign language.

Looking back on it, it made sense, having a quirk that could do such significant damage to one's ears, it was a smart move to learn it early incase something like that situation ever happened.

The two of you were rushed to the hospital. The doctor concluded that you would be temporarily deaf for a day or two at most, but your neighbour, having been closer to the blast, was going to need extended care. He would recover, thankfully, but he would need a hearing aid in his right ear if it didn't get better.

Your dad was informed of this event, and came rushing over to the hospital as soon as he got the call. When he got to you, your neighbour's mom told him what you assumed was the diagnosis, and handed him a pen and notepad for communication.

He scribbled something down; what happened? You took the pen and pad, flipping to a new page, and wrote down as legibly as you could; we were testing out quirk enhancing equipment.

Obviously your thesis was correct; that blast was amplified. But the glove, as you later found out was completely ruined. And the two of you were hospitalized for it. It worked to well, sadly.

Part of you hoped he would still be okay experimenting further, with much more protection equipment involved. But the bigger part anticipated a lack of enthusiasm and even hostility if you ever showed your face again.

These latter fears of yours were confirmed, when he all but lunged at you to get you away from him. Your teary eyes witnessed him thrashing around on his hospital bed as he tried to get to you, thankfully his mom and dad restrained him. You left with your father, a renewed vigor to try and mend whatever strange relationship you had before.

You got home, and ran outside to gather the destroyed glove and camera; you anticipated that they would be in ruins from the size of the blast, pleasantly surprised to find out that the camera had not sustained any damage. The glove though, was a whole other story. Ruined to the point of unidentifiabilty if didn't know what it was before.

You had to start all over again. But that could wait, for now, you want to just curl up in bed, and sleep away the days woes. And that's exactly what you did, but not before reviewing the footage; the blast was huge, so big infact that you questioned as to why the police weren't called. Your neighbours must have resolved this. In the video, you saw that after the blast, he was trying to crawl over to where you were hunched over behind the plywood. You assumed it was to throtle you to the point of death, but his parents intervened before his attempt on your life could be enacted. You saw that his ear was bleeding when you zoomed in.

You felt awful, and as the days events weighed down on you, you didnt even have enough energy to brush your teeth, or change out of your clothes. You passed out in your bed, without having eaten anything.

×+×+×+×+

Your rest was fitful at best, and you woke up at 4:30 a.m to a growling stomach, and an incredible sadness weighing down on you. It occurred to you that the suppressants would have worn off by now, so your inner omega was probably depressed at the thought of harming an alpha. You quickly rushed to go take a suppressant, and brushed your teeth while you waited for it to kick in. The overwhelming feeling of guilt and sadness was soon alleviated, and you could finally take in a fully breath without the dry heaving you got when having cried to much.

You realised that you were to awake to try and get more sleep, plus your rumbling stomach would only get worse if you tried to ignore it.

You settled on going down to the kitchen and making some food. You always felt so at peace when cooking, and soon enough you had spaced out, continuing your endeavor on auto pilot. Your mind registered the movements as chopping and frying, but your eyes didn't fully process the actions. You could hear faintly some sounds, mostly the louder ones as you cooked. You came to, and saw a pot of yellowish soup. It smelled like chicken and thyme.

You had made chicken noodle soup, and alot of it too. You cursed yourself when you realised what had happened, and blamed your inner omega at the thought; you made it with the intent to give it to your wounded alp- neighbour. He was your neighbour.

You ate some, feeling an over whelming sense of nostalgia coursing through you. After polishing off two whole bowls, you packed up the rest into to containers: one for you and your father, and one to bring over to the neighbours house.

It was 8:30 by the time you'd finished up the dishes and packing up the food. You waited a few more hours, going up to write a note to your neighbour, explaining what had happened and how you hoped he would forgive you, or at the very least, try to not hate you as mush as you assumed he had.

You napped for a bit, the toll of waking up so early and a full belly lulling you to a dull rest.

When awoke, it was noon. You made no haste to go over and leave the food. You hoped it would be one of his parents you encountered and not him. You were a coward for hoping for this, but you really only cared that he got the message and soup.

You wandered over after dressing in something more appropriate than yesterday's dirty clothes. You rang the bell, and to your relief, his dad was there. Your ears were fully back to normal now, so you spoke to him and could hear him just fine. He had no outward hostility like you anticipated, infact when he saw you, he released some calming hormones to alleviate any worry or stress you'd felt.

"I made some soup for him, as an apology. I doubt he wants to see me, so I'll be going now, but make sure he gets the note?" You rushed away before he could respond.

What you didn't know, was Bakugou Katsuki was up in his room, stressing out over whether or not you were okay. He could've cared less that he was injured. He had been so worried, and when he saw you in the hospital, instinct took over and he tried his hardest to get to you. Even before that, after the blast, he had tried crawling over to you to ensure your safety. Your father had ushered you out of his hospital room at his manic display and sudden erratics. He wanted to make sure that his omega was okay. But of course he was too wounded to help.

Ever since he'd noticed your sweet elderberry smell in class, he new that you two were meant to be. It was rare that fated pairs were ever united, and he wasn't about to pass up this opportunity. Of course, there were things he wanted to accomplish before he confessed and bonded with you, like graduating high-school, and becoming the number one hero in all of Japan. He was confident that you would accept when the time came.

He'd been admiring you from afar for longer than he'd like to admit, enticed by your creativity and intelligence. How you sought out challenges and worked on something until it was perfected. So he jumped at the chance to spend time with you whe you offered.

Of course, he was still abrasive and standoffish, but his nervousness and excitement to see you made all the more difficult to cull his regular attitude. And you weren't stupid, you'd notice right away if he started being nice to you. He wanted to slowly build up a relationship with you, and acting out of norm was a one way ticket to the friend zone in his eyes.

Katsuki looked up to see his dad peaking his head through the doorway, not wanting to intrude on what looked to be like some seriously heavy thinking. He signed to his son to come down, expecting his hearing to have not returned within the last 2 hours.

Katsuki signed back asking why. His dad's response was that you had brought over soup. His whole demeanor changed at this, as he bolted out of bed and raced down to the kitchen. There he saw a container filled with yellow soup. The contents were still warm as far as he could tell, and when he opened it up, the pungent smell of chicken and thyme filled his senses. It smell amazing. He was tempted to polish off the whole thing for himself but saved half for his dad to share with him.

He was always much tamer and quiet when around his father. He always attributed it to him being and omega and how Katsuki was an alpha. But maybe they just had a better relationship than him and his mother.

His dad followed after him, casually strolling into the kitchen to plate up his portion of the soup. They tried it together, and whether or not Katsuki was aware of it, he moaned out ever so slightly at the taste. Clearly enjoying the soup.

It was strange to see him so enamored with something that he didn't make himself. But he was still happy he found someone to be around.

He remembered how nervous you were when you came to the door. He could tell that you were and omega on suppressants. Any omega can tell that. He obviously knew based off of what his son had told him, that you were very insecure about you second gender. In all honesty, both him and his son were convinced you were going to be an alpha. Always such a rowdy little thing.

Before he forgot, he handed Katsuki the note that had accompanied the soup. He watched with subtle intent as he unfolded and read the piece of paper;

Bakugou, I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. I was ill prepared for the experiment, and now your are suffering because of my oversight. I know that this won't be nearly enough of an apology, but I do hope that you enjoy the soup and heal up soon. I expect that you wish to not see me again after the events that transpired, and I don't blame you. Again, I hope you recover fully, and quickly,

-L/N Y/N

Katsuki was understanding of your sentiment, and a bit angry that you would assume he blamed you for what happened. Of course, he would give you few days to wallow before he made an attempt at communicating, only for a little pay back.

He polished of the soup, thanking whatever higher power that you could cook such good food. And then headed upstairs to take a nap. He was against this routine from the moment it was mentioned, but doctors orders were to rest. No strenuous activities or quirk usage for 3 weeks. This would put his training for the Yuuei entrance exam back by a lot, but he knew that healing properly was the priority. He could do some light exercises, which were even encouraged by his doctor, but his mom would throw a fit if she caught him out of bed longer than an hour.

As he waited for sleep to take him, he pondered all of the way he could take your relationship to the next level, which was actually becoming friends. He didn't finish his train of thought before he passed out.

#bnha #bnha abo #bnha omegaverse #mha #mha omegaverse #abo #bnha fanfic #bnha bakugo katsuki #alpha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader

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adelheidvonschicksal · 4 years ago

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182 Centimeters | Tall!F!Reader x Surprise

A great boon has been bestowed upon Aoi Todo. First, he got to meet Takada in person. Second, he gained a brother. Third, he was able to fight a special grade all in one month.

Is there anything else that could make this trip perfect?

Todo didn't think so until he lays eyes on you, standing in the middle of the hallway with luggage tucked under one arm and the other holding onto a rolling suitcase. He remembers now about Mai mentioning a late edition transfer student who was going to be joining in the school games a little late. He only wishes Mai had warned him about the other thing about you. The fact that you are an amazon in the flesh.

"She has to be 187," Todo thinks upon first seeing you and sizing you up from a respectable distance. "No, she's definitely closer to 185. Definitely, 185," he corrects as he tries to measure you by judging how far your head was away from the top door frame. When he glances down at your feet, he realizes his stupid mistake and smacks himself on the forehead. "I'm such an idiot. I forgot about her shoes." Taking your soles into account, he finally narrows down your height range. You have to be 182cm. An even 6 feet. That makes you taller than even Takada!

Todo's eyes widen upon the realization.

You had half his attraction factor right there; and with his help in training, you would definitely have the second half. He knows plenty of exercises that would make your ass look great and have the rest of your body strong enough to toss any curse. You guys could make training into dates, and dates would lead to the two of you making kissy faces. Aoi can already picture it. Naturally, you'd be admiring him, shirtless and glistening with sweat, unable to take your eyes off him. Then, you'd grow embarrassed when he would call you out on it and try to look away like you were never staring in the first place. Luckily for you, he wouldn't mind if you wanted to look at his chiseled chest a little while longer. Or better yet, touch it.

Todo isn't sure what he's done to deserve such luck. Perhaps the world is rewarding him for finally breaking his record of 1000 sit-ups in an hour or maybe it's the limited-edition lucky Takada-chan charm that arrived in a mail a week earlier working its magic?

Either way, this might be the best year of his life, Todo decides.

That is until he hears a familiar voice.

"Hey there! How are you doing?" Yuuji asks loudly as he walks up to your person. Todo should've known. Of course, his brother would sense best girl material walking into the building.

"My name is Yuuji. What's yours?"

"I'm (Name). I'm a new student here. I'm a little lost actually. Could you help me out?"

Even your voice sounds so cute! You were so perfect.

That means Yuuji had no chance with the way he was doing things now. Despite Todo wanting you for himself, he could never leave his brother to make such an embarrassment of himself. If the two of them are to battle for your love, it has to be a fair battle.

"Yeah, the dorms are thi—" Yuuji yelps as he's suddenly tugged away from you and dragged around the nearest corner, leaving you in a confused state where you stood.

"What’s the big idea?" Yuuji asks, breaking free from the grasp that held him.

"I'm trying to save you, brother! What do you think you're doing walking up to a woman like that so casually?" Todo asks.

It takes Yuuji a few seconds to realize that Todo meant you were the woman that couldn't be so casually spoken to since he's fairly sure you're a first-year like him. "I'm pretty sure she's the same age as us, dude."

This is worse than he thought. He's definitely going to have to give Yuuji the rundown on how to properly ask a girl out. "That doesn't matter. She's still a lady that requires finesse if you're going to try to ask her out," Todo says.

Sadly, they are too busy in their discussion to notice you getting impatient for Yuuji to return or to notice another one of your classmates passing them and heading in your direction. You are just thankful to finally have someone help walk you to your dorm and not ditch you instead.

For the rest of the day, Yuuji is stuck with Todo lecturing in his ear. The first time being at the baseball game against the Kyoto school.

"First, you need to set the mood. And by mood, I mean you need to get her attention on you. Do something to impress her without her knowing you're trying to impress her," Todo instructs as you round home base on long legs, which Todo claims is made for a goddess. You were able to get a score for the team thanks to Fushiguro's sacrifice bunt, and the two of you take a seat in the dugout.

"Shouldn't you be helping your team?" Yuuji asks Todo after seeing him compliment your score. Todo sighs. Obviously, Yuuji needs more lessons.

Eventually, Yuuji steps up to the plate for his turn. Naturally, he hits a home run. As he rounds home, he sees you applauding loudly. Your eyes perfectly on him. It definitely feels good to have a cute girl's attention, and Yuuji realizes that he did really want to ask you out. He wonders if Todo thinks that's a good way to set the mood.

The next time Todo decides to instruct Yuuji is after they all take their showers and decide to rest up before dinner. "Next, you need to leave a letter under her door. Something to pique her interest and make her want to meet up with you."

Luckily, Yuuji has seen this before in anime. "Right, right. I heard of that actually." He easily drafted a letter and slid it under your dorm door. It sounds like you're talking to someone else on the other side so Yuuji hopes you'll see it in time so the two of you can meet up in fifteen minutes.

"Finally, make sure the place you meet up is scenic," Todo says, nodding his head and closing his eyes to repeat the steps in his head as he follows his brother to the school's courtyard. Impress? Check. Letter? Check. Scenic meet-up place? Check.

It isn't until he feels Yuuji's hand on his shoulder and a quick thanks that Todo realizes his mistake. Yuuji rushes away from him to the other side of the courtyard where you're waiting with the letter in hand.

"My name is Yuuji. I don't know if you remember me from class."

"Oh, yes, I know! You hit that homerun. It was really great."

Todo stands in shock.

...He was so busy trying to teach that he actually forgot to pursue you first!

"Really? Thanks! I was just trying to make sure I actually hit it. I wasn't expecting it to go so far." Yuuji laughed. "So, (Name), I was wondering if you wanna go out together?"

Todo could cry. Actually, he already feels the tears coming down his face, but his brother could at least be happy. And if his brother is happy, that's all he needed!

"I'm sorry," you say sweetly. "I only showed up because I didn't want to stand you up, but the truth is I already like someone, and I wouldn't feel comfortable going out with someone when I have a crush on another person."

Todo's ears ring with your words. You already like someone!

"Oh, well, that's too bad, I guess. Thanks for telling me," Yuuji says with a disappointed yet understanding smile while Todo finds the opportunity to scoot in the middle of your conversation.

"Excuse me but your crush wouldn't happen to be on me by any chance?" he asks, hopeful.

You force a smile onto your face and tilt your head. "Sorry...Have we met?" you ask, nervously.

Todo gasps as he feels his world crashing down. Your date. Your marriage. Your kids. All gone, and it’s all black in his memory after that. The next thing he can recall is sitting in the eating area with Itadori. He remembers this heartache once before. "It's just like with Takada-chan..." he mumbles heartbrokenly.

"I told you already. We never went to the same middle school, and you never confessed to Takada," Yuuji grumbles, but Todo knows that Yuuji is only trying to make him feel better. He is so lucky to have such a good brother.

"Who...Who do you think it is anyway?"

Yuuji pauses.

He actually wonders that as well.

Then, they hear your voice ringing through the dining hall. Immediately, both sets of eyes are on you.

"Fushiguro-kun, I wanted to thank you for helping me get settled into the academy. My mom gave me a buy one, get one free for a sushi place for when I made some friends, so...I was wondering if you wanted to be my plus one?"

Then, Yuuji finally gets it. He had been ignoring the small conversations happening around him the entire time thanks to Todo's interruptions.

The Hall.

"Excuse me. I'm looking for the dorms. Gojo-sensei was supposed to show me, but he got sidetracked so I've been sort of left on my own."

"Of course, he did. Geeze, that guy." Megumi sighs. "You can follow me. I'll show you where some empty rooms near the other girls are."

"Thank you so much! I'm (Name) by the way."

"Fushiguro," he states plainly and simply as you struggle behind him with your luggage. "Is that stuff heavy? Want me to help you carry it?"

”Yes. My arms got numb while I was waiting. Thank you so much!”

The Game.

"Out!" Gojo says. Fushiguro rounds first base to head back to the dugout, but you at least made it home to score. You head to the dugout as well.

"That's too bad, Fushiguro. You'll get it next time," you say, sitting next to him.

"As long as Kugisaki made it to second and you made it home then it's fine. I'm not really too hyped up on winning anyway."

”Oh. I was really looking forward to seeing you get one.”

”Too bad. Guess you’ll have to wait,” and by “wait” Megumi had meant probably not ever but you laughed anyway even though you had got what he meant.

”I don’t mind waiting.”

The Dorms.

"Kugisaki-san said you could summon different shikigami animals."

"That's true."

"Would you mind showing me sometime? I love animals."

"What is your favorite?"

"I really like rabbits. Are you able to summon those?"

"Not at the moment, but I’ll show you when I learn it. How do you feel about dogs instead?"

”That cute dog was yours? That’s amazing.”

And now.

"Yeah, sure. I wasn't really in the mood for anything at school anyway," Fushiguro agrees, and your face lights up with a glow that could rival sunshine. Yuuji thinks if he squints he can see the anime hearts starting to dance over your head but Fushiguro didn't seem to mind.

Itadori could almost laugh. That's a new record in anyone ever befriending Fushiguro. The two of you must have hit it off really well. Yuuji smiles. In that case, he couldn't be upset. That must mean fate has something in store for you guys, and he didn't want to get in the way. "I guess girls really do like that cool, quiet type."

Meanwhile, Todo is crying in defeat. How could a woman like you like Fushiguro?

"He's so boring though..."

#yuji itadori x reader #aoi todo x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x y/n #megumi x reader

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i-am-still-bb · 2 years ago

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Hurtless: a Britchell fic in three parts

“The stones are from Asgard,” Olaf said, gesturing to the engraved stones in a circle on the ground with the sword.

“Where ‘gard?” Axl asked.

“Norse god home.”

Axl took a deep breath that sounded like he was trying to prevent himself from rolling his eyes and started to step into the ring.

“Oh, take off your clothes,” Anders interrupted.

“What?” Axl asked, incredulous with a disbelieving laugh.

“Look, you don’t have to,” Olaf said assuringingly to Axl who was now backing away from the circle.

Anders repeated himself, “Trust me, take off your clothes.”

“Gayest god ever,” Ty quipped.

“I loved that jacket, it was totally ruined,” Anders replied bitterly.

Meeting

“Hey, Andy!” Mat chirped as Anders pushed open the employee’s entrance of Bean of the Gods.

“It’s Anders.” Anders had little hope that Mat would listen. It had been 6 days a week for 3 weeks. Anders corrected him each time. And each time it made no difference.

He hung his denim jacket on a hook. He looked at the patches sewn onto the fabric and a faint smile. He checked the stitching on the most recent one, a blue and white CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) circle patch. He’d only had red thread and it stood out against the solid white border on the patch. But it was secure.

“It’s nearly 7.”

“I know, I know,” Anders grumbled and reached for the golden apron hanging in his locket. At least his name tag had the right name.

“Why doesn’t anyone just get a black coffee with sugar or cream? Or a tea?” Anders was wiping down the counter after the pre-work rush of men and women in suits with thin ties and shoes that pinched.

“Would you pay $3 for a black coffee when you could just make it at home?”

“I do!” Anders gestured toward his cardboard cup of coffee by the register.

“And on our wages at that…”

Anders shrugged and took a sip of his quickly cooling coffee.

With everything clean and put away and the mid-morning pick-me-up rush still a little over 30 minutes away Anders pulled a book from his locket and leaned over the counter reading the yellowed pages of Herman Hesse’s Siddartha.

“I forgot this.”

“Your balls?” Anders asked without looking up.

“Rude,” Mat said. “This.” He dropped an envelope next to Anders’ elbow. “Someone bought one of those,” he gestured to the poems and scattered drawings that were clipped to a length of clothesline running along the wall.

“Really?” The book flopped shut. Anders opened the envelope to find a crisp $50 bill, far more than the hopefully optimistic $10 price tag he had put on it. “Who? When?”

Mat shrugged. “Some dude. Before you came in this morning. It was still dark.”

Anders stuffed the envelope into the pocket of his jeans. He looked at the line of papers—some his own, but others belonging to other employees or to regular patrons, often art students from UChicago—and tried to pick out what the man had bought.

“Was he a regular?”

Mat shrugged again. “Why? Looking for a sugar daddy?” he teased. “I think you’d be out of luck with that one. I nearly just told him to leave because he looked homeless. Who wears combat boots with tracksuit bottoms?”

The L was pretty empty this early in the morning.

He was normally still burrowed deep in his blanket in the “room” that he rented in a house far from the city center. He still was not convinced that it hadn’t been a coat closet that someone had punched a hole into to add a window—a legal requirement for something to be a bedroom. It was barely large enough for the twin sized mattress on the floor and an upturned milk crate for a table and several in another that held his clothes and the odds and ends that he had acquired since landing at O’Hare a month ago.

But he was curious about the person that had bought his sketch. It had to be the one of the eyes looking out of the darkness with an almost-Haiku scratched into the dark charcoal with an eraser.

He had to see who had bought it. Even if just for a moment.

“You’re early,” Mat accused.

Anders shrugged and moved to make himself a pour over.

“Money then coffee,” Mat held out his hand.

Anders fished two crumbled dollar bills and some coins from his pocket.

“I’ll get that.”

Anders and Mat both looked up sharply. They had not heard the bell over the door ring when the man entered. Anders would later swear that it had not.

“And I’ll get a caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream.”

Mat moved quickly after ringing the order up.

“Thanks.” Anders dropped his money back into his pocket.

“Would you be the “A. Johnson” that draw some of those pictures?”

Anders nearly inhaled some of his coffee. “Yeah. That’d be me. But I think you misread the price,” he fumbles with one hand for the envelope still in his back pocket, “it was only supposed to be $10.”

“I know.”

“Oh.”

They looked at each other in silence. There was the hum of machinery as Mat made the man’s drink. Anders boldly took in the man’s appearance, the boots and tracksuit bottoms, the bomber jacket over a very worn graphic t-shirt, the long hair, pale skin, and the red lips. Anders felt uncomfortably warm, but he did not stop staring. There was a small smirk on the man’s face, like he knew that he was being ogled and he didn’t mind at all.

“Ireland?” Anders asked to break the silence.

A nod. “New Zealand?”

“Yeah.”

“Mitchell,” the man offered his hand.

Anders’ automatically took it, his other hand burning the the heat of his coffee through the cardboard. “Anders.”

Mat put the drink down on the counter and looked at them both.

Mitchell released Anders’ hand and took the drink with its obscene mound of whipped cream.

“Wait!” Anders said, rounding the counter, nearly spilling his drink with his quick movements. “When will you be back?”

The man turned, an amused expression on his face. “Maybe tonight, maybe this same time tomorrow, maybe never.” He reached out and fixed the collar of Anders’ denim jacket. “Nice jacket, Anders.”

This time it was Anders’ turn to be consumed by someone’s eyes. He flushed, but he boldly stared back.

Mitchell’s smirk was back.

And then he was gone.

#britchell #mitchers #anders/mitchell #britchellcontributionfest2022 #bb writes #part 1 of 3 #hurtless

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lunaekalenda · 3 years ago

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𝖓𝖚𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊

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eren x fem!reader

suggestive conversations, teacher x student mention, smoking, alcohol, mention of love triangle, reiner doesn't have an easy life, characters are aged up and they correspond to the last season, modern au, eren being a tease, nsfw once they get to the party, dirty talking, reader may have a degradation kink, slapping, finger-sucking cause that's my sign, neck grabbing, rough composure, really long fic and really long warnings, size kink, wall sex, consensual relation, reader is tiny next to eren, kneejob (does that exist?), use of words like fucktoy, doll, slut; dom!eren x sub!reader, goddess i’m getting scared bc of the quantity of warnings, unprotected sex (don’t be like eren), oral (m receiving), consensual filming,, author is horny half of the drabble, please correct me in any errors! sex scenes are really bad written sorry

a/n: yeah... i don't know what i'm doing someone pls tell me to stop. as always, very welcome criticism and minors please do not interact!!

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"Jaeger, Eren." The teacher says his name and he gets up, loose clothes and his lazy bun on the back of his head giving him that attractive visual he has. Girls look at him with interest and boys with envy. After all, they all want to be like him, date him, be his friends. Be near him is something to be grateful for half the university students. What a bunch of idiots.

His tall body reaches the professor table, were he leans on, receiving the paper that acredites his graduation. A smirk on his face, directed to your young teacher, makes your friend Pieck sigh on the chair next to you. "He has for sure fucked her." she says. You look to the teacher expression, a smile just for him while he raises just the corners of his lips to her. You look to the paper on your hands. It's your last day. You're finally graduating. University is just another closed door for you. The last people take their diplomas quickly, the teachers giving their typical emotional discourses before releasing you to the campus yard. Reiner gets closer to your group, his arm around your shoulders as he smile for all of you.

"Today. Tonight." he corrects himself. "There's a party and, as the captain of the Waterpolo team, I'm the host." he says, a smile on his lips reaching his kind eyes. "You're all invited, of course. VIP invitations" Winking to all of you and gaining a giggle from Pieck, Reiner moves his head to a whistle. Bertholdt calls him from the door of the swimming pool, and Reiner leaves, smiling at you.

"I'll see you there?" he asks, a huge smile on his face. You can't help but smile back at him while you nod. Reiner leaves running the yard and Porco smiles at you, a joke about to escape his lips. You two have been friends time enough to know every single expression of the other.

"He does like you." he says, instead. Something serious for the first time in your friendship. Someone hits him with a paper when he was about to add something.

"You're finally out." Porco's big brother, Marcel Galliard, who works as the waterpolo trainer, takes his brother by the arm. "And out of the pics if you stay here, come on." He takes Porco with him, both of them leaving in Reiner's direction. Pieck smiles at you, about to comment something about Reiner, and you search your phone. It isn't there. Fuck.

"Pieck, I've lost my phone." you say, her face changing to a concerned expression. You touch every pocket and every place you've could have put it, without gain. Even she searches on the little handbag she's carrying. You remembered to take a pic with Pieck on the terrace and had to fix your shoes. You probably forgot it there. "Shit. Is the Uni still open, right?" Pieck nods quietly. Annie turns around to look at you. "Coming back real quick, wait for me here, please."

You make your way upstairs to the latest floor of the Univeristy, a terrace where teachers liked to go and smoke or drink their coffees between classes. "How can I forget my phone there? Am I dumb?" you think for yourself. There are just a few stairs left. You find Armin on your way. His short blond hair and his big blue eyes are recognizable everywhere.

"Congratulations." he says, that gentle smile on his face. "We finally graduated." You smile at him back, nodding.

"We did, Min." you say. Armin was in the same class as you, and he's really nice to you. Being paired in a couple works has made your friendship grow little by little, and you can consider him a friend now. It's ironical how he's Eren's best friend, even when the two of them have been seen parted for a while. He looks at you, his eyes following your way. "You go to the terrace?" he asks. You nod. He hums and looks upstairs, as if he was making sure something.

"Forgot something there, but it will take a minute." Armin nods and you keep going. Opening the big door, that is casually still open, the wind shakes your hair and your dress. You see your phone on the chair you sat earlier, while taking the pic, and you're fast to take it. Fortunately, it does have battery and it seems as nobody has touched it. You turn around, ready to go down to meet your friends, when you listen femenine giggles and sound of wet kisses. Gross. Is somebody using the rooftop to fuck? In the university? You shake your head. But your legs don't move. Your head searches unconsciously the place where the voices are coming from. You want to know who they are. Another giggle. Another kiss. A quiet sigh, the sound of fabrics. "Come on, move, move." You say to yourself. The woman speaks. "Now that you graduated..." Isn't that your teachers voice? With a student? You remain silent, trying to hear him. You hear a sigh. A manly and long sigh.

"Now that I graduated I have no reason to come here." You know that voice. That deep, raspy tone and that way of talking. Your brain searches quickly who does that voice belong to.

"Come on, Eren." even when you where about to figure who was the mysterious boy, she says his name. You move your hand to cover your mouth, your phone ringing in that moment. Pieck's ID showing on the screen. "Fuck, fuck." you try to silence it in vain. They heard you. Eren sighs, a long sigh that is followed by high heels steps. She's searching you. You're there, on the middle of the rooftop, and she's going around, near the door, no way to escape for you. You search quickly a place to hide. Then, he talks again. "They probably left, hm?" he says. His tone is way deeper now. "But we should as well. Search another student next year. I won't come back here for you." he says. With angry steps, she leaves. You can see her shadow from behind the little maintenance shed. You hear then calm steps, a lighter and the combustion of a cigarette. Eren palms the shed metallic roof, scaring you.

"Having fun spying the others?" he says. The smoke comes out of his mouth when he kneels next to you. "I can bet you're wet with just hearing us making out." you look at him in his green eyes, without avoiding his gaze. He raises a brow, putting the cigarette again between his lips.

"This is a public space. It isn't for you to bring every single girl you want." you say. Eren lets out a little laugh.

"I had the teacher's permission." he says, jokingly. "Who do you think you are to question her permissions?" his lips part, letting the smoke escape quietly. He gets up, his tall body resting against the structure. He's attractive, and he knows it for sure. But, the moment he opens that damn mouth of his... He loses all his attractiveness and charm. You take your phone, ready to go down with your friends.

"I hope you have a good future, Eren Jaeger. See you."

"Later, baby. On Reiner's party." he says, a little smile on his lips. "I guess he had invited the girl he likes." you didn’t like that joking tone.

"And why the hell would he invite you?" you ask. Eren slides his eyes down your body when you get up, your light dress moving with the wind, your hair getting messy and your challenging eyes looking directly at his. He entertains himself on your legs, how they looked smooth and good under the dress. And, surprisingly, he finds himself thinking of the sweet thing upper, covered by the dress and your underwear.

"Because I'm on his waterpolo team." he says, his green irises going back to yours. Damn, true. He’s the point of the team. The offensive. The strongest one between them.

"Then I hope we don't see each other." you say. Eren gets closer to you, smoke leaving his lips while he smiles jokingly at you again. You can smell the tobacco from your position, but you don’t want to move. You want to show him you can also keep his gaze. That you’re not intimidated by him.

"I'll be searching for you." he whispers. "After all, you stayed up here to see who I was making out with. Maybe you're jealous. But don't worry, i'll gladly show you what I did to her" You raise a brow this time, giving a couple steps back to put distance. You cross your arms on your chest. Eren smiles, taking the cigarette away from his lips.

"Search another girl. I'm sure a lot of them want your attention." you say. That makes Eren smirk. He walks a couple steps back, his back resting against the shed again. He throws the cigarette and steps on it.

"You have a strong personality, not like all the others. I like it." his eyes are on yours, and you're not afraid to keep the visual contact with him. "You're different." he says. You take a couple steps near him, heading to the door. Palming his shoulder, you smile.

"Good job reading all that cliche books where you took that phrase. Now, I have to go." his hand grips your wrist. With a shake, you get free and, false smiling at him, you leave. Your heart is racing while you go downstairs, Eren is still on the terrace, giggling for himself. He found such an interesting one. You keep going downstairs until you reach the yard, Pieck's black hair and Annie's bun can be seen. You walk towards them, your phone ringing on your hand. It's Pieck again. She sees you a hangs up, walking towards you.

"You took forever, y/n" she says, showing you her phone. "I calles you a hundred times. What were you doing?" she asks. You don't want to discover the teacher and Eren and less on the campus. "I'll tell you later." you say. Pieck told you to have dinner and get ready for the party at her home, so the two of you start to walk, waving your hands at Annie, who was waiting for Armin. Eren comes out of the university as well. His gaze finds yours and he smiles at you, but it isn't a sweet smile. It’s a teasing one. You turn around and follow Pieck.

"Eren? I told you those two had something!" she says. You're tying your shoes while she applies rimmel on her lashes. She looks beautiful, with that golden tight dress that shines when she moves. You wanted to go with your graduation dress, but she quickly corrected you. "No, no, that dress is too beautiful for this type of party. You have to show what you have." she said. She lended you a red dress that fits you. It is beautiful, and you look good on it. She turns around. "Were they in the middle of it? What happened!" she asks. You blush.

"They were just kissing, i think. They kinda broke up." you say. Pieck nods quietly and looks again to the mirror, taking blush to her cheeks. You explain her that Eren talked to you after that.

"Oh, so he's going to the party?" she asks. You nod. "Porco told me he wasn't that interested, so he'll probably pass." You really hope Porco is right while you two walk to Reiner's house, a big duplex near the campus. You can hear music and people talking from the corner of the street. Reiner opens the door for you.

"Y/N!" he says, quickly hugging you. Pieck waves her hand at him. "Come on, girls, enter." he lets you in. There isn't a huge amount of people. Jean and Connie from the Waterpolo club are playing beer pong and Bertholdt is serving some drinks. You look around, but you don't know if you want to find him or make sure he isn't there.

It seems like Eren isn't there, for your luck. Bert gives you the drink you asked for and you thank him. There's a couple people talking near a speaker, another ones are playing on Reiner's TV and another ones are dancing. Reiner smiles.

"If you need anything, the rooms and the living room are up. There's a bathroom in that door and another one upstairs." he says. You smile at him. "I'll be around here if you need me." he says. You nod and he disappears, giving your arm a soft squeeze. Pieck tells you that she's going outside and you decide to stay inside. The juice with a little bit of vodka is kinda strong, but it tastes sweet. You hear a hum near you.

"What are you drinking?" you roll your eyes, turning around. Eren's tall body is there, smiling at you. He looks into your cup. "Juice?" he asks. You raise a brow.

"Do you care?" he lets out a melodious laugh. "Don't you have friends?" you can almost feel all the gazes in you. Envy gazes, surprise gazes. You know they're commenting. "How did she get his attention?" "Sure he's playing with some bad toys" You look at Eren.

"I do. But my interest tonight is in you." he tells. "After all, you deserve private representations of what we were doing, since you were that curious."

"Get lost, please." you ask him. He smirks. Taking your cup, he smells it. He gives it back to you.

"Don't drink that much." he says. You look at him. Is he now giving you orders? Taking the cup to your lips, you drink under his gaze. He raises a brow when you take the cup away from your mouth. You weren’t going to get orders and less form a dork like him. Surprisingly, his thumb takes a drop that slides from your lips. He licks it.

"Tastes sweet." it's all he says, before disappearing. Did he just licked it? You put the cup on a near table and follow him outside. He's lighting a cigarette. He smiles at you when you arrive.

"What was that. What you did inside." you ask. He laughs.

"We can't waste alcohol, can we?" he says. He walks closer to you. His bun is still low and loose, and he's wearing his waterpolo team t-shirt with ripped black jeans. A big 5 in his t-shirt. The number he uses on the water. "Do you smoke?" he asks, offering you the cigarette. You shake your head. He raises a brow. "Wanna try?" he asks. You're not into that type of things but, maybe, the way his green eyes challenged you makes you nod. You want to show him you're capable. He gives you the cigarette. "Want me to teach you?" When he ended the phrase, you're coughing. He laughs. "Such an impatient girl, hm?"

He takes the cigarette again, taking a puff, his lips right on the spot you stained with gloss. He gets closer. "Let me show you." his lips touch yours quietly and you feel the smoke flowing between your mouths, entering yours. You’re unable to move, even when he’s kissing you. It feels nice, feels warm and soft against your mouth, the smoke entering right from his parted lips. You want more. More of him. He parts. "Breath out quietly." Why are you following his orders now? You do it softly, his gaze on your lips while you do it. "Good girl."

That was hot. You can't deny it. The way he passed the smoke to you, how he looked at you. Oh, goddess. He smiles, stepping on the cigarette. Your legs feel like jelly and your heart races when he gets closer.

"You liked it?" he asks, a sweet purr on your ear. You nod. You did. Now you get why everyone is always around Eren. He's naturally magnetic, attractive. He’s the type of person that bewitches, that makes you follow his orders even when you don’t want you. He can make you weak for you from just a single peck. "I know more tricks with my mouth than passing smoke" he says. That makes you cringe a little, get down of your bubble.

"You're so dirty minded." You say. Maybe he was starting to attract you, to make you fall for him. You won't. You need to go out. Far from him. Far before you fall.

"I was starting to have fun." he whispers. You start to walk, heading to Reiner's house again. Eren follows you quietly. You've seen enough romantic films to know every single way he has to take you to his bed. You sigh. Inside, a lot of people is dancing. You also want to. Eren follows you quietly while you enter the improvised dance floor, a empty space between two sofas, moving to the song. It's hot inside Reiner's house, a stupid amount of people dancing together, bodies close and teasing movements. Maybe Eren tries to seduce you outside, but it is your time to make him beg for you. Moving your head and your body, you see him from th corner of your eye. He's there, behind you, his hands tingling. He wants to touch your body, that tiny red dress and that velvety skin. He wants to mark that exposed neck with his bites, tangle that hair with his fingers, feel you against him. You take one of his hands, putting it on your hips. He swallows.

"You're not that brave now." you whisper, without letting him hear you. His other hand finds your belly, going up to the low cut of Pieck's dress. His hand touches your skin, making you gasp. He gets close. "You won." he whispers on your ear, his hands sneaking, touching every showing skin he finds. You smirk, turning around. You're not aware of Reiner's sad gaze. "I won?" you ask. He smiles, his face getting closer, as if he wanted to kiss you. "Hmh." he hums. You smile at him, letting your body meet his really close, making you feel every part of Eren’s body. You raise a brow. "There's evidence of my win." you joke, Eren's lips curving on a teasing smile.

"You should take responsibility of your trophy." he feels your hands on his arms, making him sigh. He takes your hand and guides you upstairs. "Wait, Eren, wait!" you ask him. People look at you, going head to the second floor, your hand jailed on his. Almost everybody knows now what you two are going to do. "Eren, everybody will..."

"Let them talk. We can have a good time while they spend their last braincells making rumors." he says. He's kinda right. You shouldn't care of what people say or what people think. "But it is Reiner's house." you tell him. He smiles.

"He lets me use the guest room to sleep. It's almost my room. My brother doesn't really like my company, I guess." he says. You feel bad for Reiner. He's such a sweetheart with you, and everybody thinks he likes you. And there are you, about to make out with Eren on his house. But you're drunk of him, of his smell and his skin, his deep voice and his green eyes. You can't help. You need him. He opens the room and lets you in. You don't have even time to see the room, feeling his lips on yours as soon as he closes the door, his hand sneaking behind your back to lock it. One of his arms rest above your head, against the wood, and the other pulls you closer to his body from your low back. His hand grabs your ass roughly, making you jump a little. He giggles against your mouth. His lips taste like tobacco and mint bubblegum. He parts.

"Are you drunk?" he asks. You shake your head. You take his hair on your hand, trying to make him cover your mouth again with his. He gives you a peck. "You want this?" he asks. Your hands search his chest, defined muscles under the team t-shirt.

"I want you, Eren." you don't even know who you are. He has you crazy, begging for him and his kisses, feeling his hotness in your body. You want it. You want him. "Please.". His superiority smirk covers your lips again, your body arching to feel his closer, the grip on you harder, his other hand still on the door. He parts your lips quietly, the softer action of all he has done until now. You feel his tongue caressing yours quietly. It feels nice. His hand takes the border of your red dress, lifting it, asking for your consent. You nod at him, his hand moving it to your waist. He parts to look down, your underwear on his vision camp. He passes his tongue on his lips while his eyes scan that cute black panty you’re wearing. He likes it. Simple, something a cute innocent girl like you would wear. The thought arouses him. He’s going to ruin you, the sweet little girl that seems too tiny for him.

“What a precious panty, doll.” he hums, his knee going up until it meets the black fabric. Then, with a smirk, he makes pressure up, your body feeling his knee hot and hard against your wetness. You gasp and he smiles. “Such a desperate fucktoy.” he whispers, his lips near your open ones, your sighs every time he moves his knee against you. He likes that expression on your face. The way your cute lips are open in silent pleasure signs. He would love to watch them open around another thing, but he takes his free hand to your mouth, his long thumb caressing your lips before entering your mouth, pressing your tongue while you keep making that expression that has become his favorite. “Suck.” he asks. You obey, your mouth gently sucking his thumb, your tongue playing circles around it. He keeps that game on your cunt, making you lose your concentration on sucking his finger. He puts his knee down, you feel the emptiness between your legs. He takes his phone, tobacco pack and a lighter from his pocket, putting them on the near bed. Then, he takes your hands, guiding them to the fabric of his jeans. You understand what he wants and take the button off, then, unzipping his pants. They fall around his ankles, his muscled legs and his underwear is revealed. He sighs when your hand finds the bulge. You look at him again, spreading kisses on his jaw. His hand covers yours while you try to sneak it in his underwear. He sighs when he feels your cold hand against him, fine and elegant fingers taking his shaft softly. His head rests against the arm on the wall, your kisses going down his body. When you were about to kneel, he takes you up again.

“I’ll let you take a taste of it later.” he sighs again, your hand squeezing harder, making him gasp. His hand closes around your neck, not hard enough to choke you, just a grab. A way to make you know who’s in charge. He kisses you. “Now.” he says, out of breath. His fingers take your panty, sliding it down your legs. He looks at your half- naked body, the dress covering just your thorax. “I want to fuck you right”. He takes your body, pinning you against the wall, your legs around his waist and your hands gripped to his t-shirt. He takes his hand down, the other one holding you in place. His hand strokes his shaft a couple times, also making sure you’re ready enough to take him, before starting to put it in. He feels excited. How your body seems so little between his and the wall. How you’ll struggle to take all of him in. His cock twitch in anticipation. He can’t wait to be deep in you, to know how much of him can you take, but he wants to make it right. Make this something you’ll beg for. Make him feel superior. He pushes slowly, feeling every squeeze and every movement your walls make against him. You moan and he lets out the deepest groan. He doesn’t wait that much to move against you, even when he’s not fully inside, your lips parting to the sensation of him caressing your insides. He puts you against the wall, making the hold easier for him. He thrusts into you with such a power and strength that you feel your head dizzy. He keeps moving, lewd sounds and mixed heavy breaths leaving your mouths. He feels how he’s going deeper and deeper. He smirks.

“That’s it. You’re taking it so good, like the cockslut you are. You struggled to take all of me in that little cunt, all stuffed by me. Such a doll, hm?” he says, out of breath. You nod while he keeps moving against you, you hand taking his hair as his mouth bites your neck. “You were a brat this morning, a fucking tease, but now you’re behaving like a good girl.” he whispers, before bitting you again. One of his hands sneak to the part you two are connected, and he caresses you gently, his fingers knowing perfectly were to touch. You gasp. “You like it, don’t you?”. Your back starts to hurt a little, the wood door is too hard to be resting against. Eren doesn’t mind, his muscles flexed while he keeps moving you up and down his length. “You’re about to, hm?” he asks. “You’re squeezing me. Hard.” He groans. It's true, you're feeling it as well, the knot on your belly that announces your end, pleasure maximized by Eren’s fingers. His lips cover yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouth when he parts, your mind unable to make a coherent sentence. You take your hands to his back, helping him with your movements, reaching your end faster. He isn’t going to edge you. He feels merciful today. He’ll let you cum after all you did for him, after how good you’re squeezing him, after the pretty expressions you made. You fall on his arms with a long sigh, juices dripping down the two of you as you keep shaking on his arms. He smirks. "Oi, you came really hard." He puts you down on the floor again, quietly sliding out of you. He's still as hard as he was. "I'm that good at it?" he asks. Then, he grabs your jaw, making you look at him. "Or maybe you're just a slut for me?"

You blush. You did. He knew where to bite, where to touch and where to thrust. You couldn't help, he’s good at this. He pats your head softly. "Now, in reward, since you didn't wait for me, you could use that pretty little mouth you used to tease me this morning in something more interesting, hm?" he asks. You know what he's asking for. Before you kneel, he sits on the bed, tying his hair again while a cigarette hangs from his lips. Then, he pushes softly by your shoulders. You hear him inhaling the smoke. Taking his phone, he makes you look at him, pulling your jaw quietly. “Do you mind if i film you?” You shake your head. Filming is quite interesting, and hot, definitely hot. “Promise me that those videos will never leave your phone”. He smiles, a soft and genuine smile, offering you his hand. You shake it.

“Promise.”

The image is quite hot, your face resting in his tight and your hands caressing him, while his parted lips let go moans mixed with smoke. He takes two fingers to your mouth, the other hand taking the phone. He films your hands, your expression, his words.

"You look pretty with your mouth full of my fingers, but I prefer another thing, doll." he says, quietly pushing your head, making an intrusion in your mouth. He sighs. "Fuck. Show the camera, pretty." You try to wipe the tears away and he caresses your jaw, making you look to the phone filming you. “Show it how you suck me.” You think about him, watching this video in the loneliness of his dormitory, no light, his hand sneaking into his pants. "Do it alright and we'll be done in a second." he says, taking a puff again. He smokes too much for your preference. His fingers, still full of your saliva, impact against your ass. "Faster, doll." he asks. Slap again. Again. You feel your skin tingling under his slaps, hot and red. "I would also like to ruin that pretty ass you have." He grabs it this time, the camera pointing at his big hand squeezing your buttock. You keep sucking under his sighs and gasps, helping yourself with your hand. He smiles. "That's it, I'm already." he moves his hips against you, strong enough to make you feel it. Tears come again to the corners of your eyes as he keeps moving, stronger, the camera pointing everywhere while he loses himself. "You want it? Should I let you have it on your mouth? Or maybe on your pretty face?" he gasps at the thought of your face full of his seed, and maybe that's what makes him pull it out and paint you. With a final sigh, Eren pauses the video, putting out the cigarette against an ashtray. You rest again near his legs as he looks at you. His hands grab your neck again, making you sit on his lap. “You should clean that mess. Don’t want everybody to know how much of a slut you are for me.” he says, his fingers outlining your lips. “And I’ll keep this.” he says, taking the panties he throw away earlier. “You know where to find me if you wanna get them back. Or maybe give me new ones.”

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