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noffy96 · 2 years ago

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Errink fic

Did I write another fic? YES

for so long this one was just a 1 sentence prompt in a document, but i couldn't let it escape me.

So here we are. I finally wrote an Error/ Ink fic! So happy to finally do that

read the full story below or go to

Warnings:

I rated it M to be safe, cause it involves ink. Puking ink into the error's mouth. so...yeah don't read if you are squeamish, but it shouldn't be too bad.

How Excitement ruins everything

Word count: 8282 ( i didn't notice that. that's funny XD)

Summary:

They had been so worried about Error crashing. That the thought that this would happen never crossed his mind. Or maybe it did, how would he know… But it had happened. Another sob wrenched itself from his throat, the brush dropping to the snow as he dug his hands into his closed eyesockets.

He was such an idiot, Error had deserved a far better first kiss. Their relationship had been fine without it, and now look at where they were. Error was gonna tear him a new one when he was found. He had been told repeatedly to be careful and not get his ink all over the other's clothes.

I remembered that Ink pukes ink when overwhelmed with emotions. So what would happen if he pukes ink while having his first kiss with Error because it makes him feel too much. This. This is what happens

AO3 right -> HERE

Or continue reading, right below:

He landed once again and made another portal and jumped through it. He had jumped through what 10 maybe 15 portals. He didn’t keep count, he just wanted to get away, he didn’t wanna look Error in the eye after screwing up like that.

Of course, he had to screw it up. When did he ever do something right? And even now while having been so careful. He had to forget and throw away all that progress the two of them had made. Slowly he came to a stop, he was on the edge of a snow-covered cliff overlooking a chasm. It was so very quiet, no one was around for miles.

He closed the portal, it wouldn’t matter much, Error would find him eventually. He always did and it’s not like he could avoid him forever. He collapsed onto his hands and knees. Tears were running from his face. As the tears hit the snow, it slowly turned blue. Then one drop fell from his chin and made a spot of black appear. Just the one, but it stood out. He let out a hollow laugh and squeezed his eyes shut.

Emotions were running wild inside of him, not sure which one to settle on. Disappointment, embarrassment, fear, sadness, and guilt. It made him taste so many different colours, it was making him sick.

And before he knew it he was retching out another large puddle of ink from the depths of his stomach. It all fell away, the tears stopped, and only some drops from the ink on his chin kept falling into the puddle below. All his emotions had become distant whispers, leaving him nearly empty. He started at the black puddle beneath him for a second longer before sitting up straight, and quickly petted at his stash and grab some paints.

Going for all the colours he just vomited out…because he did it twice, was nearly all of them. Drinking his blues, purples and greens in quick succession. But when his hand rested over the yellow and orange. He stopped…he hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here…and he really didn’t wanna feel forced happiness right now.

The tears that had stopped were back, making more of a mess of the white snow. As he sat back, his bare hands and feet dug into the snow. Just staring up, looking at the ceiling of the underground, that stretched higher than he ever remembered seeing.

He tore his gaze away before he got distracted, and tucked at his scarf. He had to write down what happened, such a fuck up should be noted. He got one of his smaller brushes from his stash and whipped some ink from his face with his gloved hand.

His eyes scanned over the expanse of his scarf looking for a free space. Not really reading most of them, until he saw one note with Error’s name.

Error wants to kiss you, he sets the pace because of haphephobia and will start our first kiss!!!!

Next to them was a tally with ‘failed attempts’. Ten small lines crossed beneath it. A brief sad smile came over his face as flashes of memories came to him. One of Error crashing before he even got close. Another of Errors determined yet shy face. Flushed blue. Another one of them leaning closer only to be interrupted when Fresh suddenly poofed in.

Error had been trying so hard to overcome his fear of touch. And he was so proud of him, they had come so far. If you told him, that one day he would be leaning against the destroyer happily working on his next artwork when said destroyer was working on his dolls. He would have laughed at your face.

But it was real, a good type of real. Error made him feel all kinds of emotions, emotions that mixed so wonderfully that it was like tasting a shade of colour he had never come across. It made him want to experiment with his colours so he could try and feel more. And then return those feelings. But most of the time when he tried mixing them it left him overwhelmed and vomiting out ink again, and maybe he should have thought about that.

After trying to wipe his face once more, he wrote beneath the entry

First kiss failed, you puked ink all over him.

His hands shook. Why..? Why couldn’t he just be normal? They had been so worried about Error crashing. That the thought that this would happen never crossed his mind. Or maybe it did, how would he know… But it had happened. Another sob wrenched itself from his throat, the brush dropping to the snow as he dug his hands into his closed eyesockets.

But how could he have known this would happen, it had never happened before. A kiss never had made him feel so much. Surprise? Sure. Happy? Yeah. Excited? Most definitely But this…this had been so much more.

Maybe because he hadn’t seen it coming. Maybe if he had he might have drunk a little less paint. But would it have felt the same? Or would he not have been able to reciprocate the full extent of what the other did to him?

Not that he had been able to now. It had been barely a second after their teeth touched before he puked all over them.

His hand went down to his mouth. He could still feel it, the slight tingle of one of Error's glitches. The hand against his cheek, guided him to look up. The fond look he had gotten from Error just before they had closed their eyes.

It was like he had been filled with all his warmer colours, when you mix them all together to get the most beautiful of sunrises. Chasing away the cold blues and purples that had been there all along. And when their teeth actually touched. It felt like buckets of that mixture had been poured into him. That along with pride, for coming this far. Relief for getting there. Excitement that he was allowed this close at all.

But then he could feel it all mixing and turning until it had become a black mess., He felt it coming, and fear settled in, acting as an accelerant. Within the next split second ink had boiled up from his throat and started coming out of his mouth.

By the time he had managed to pull himself away, the ink had been dripping from both their mouths onto their scarves and shirts. Error's eyes were filled with error signs and were completely glitched out, on the verge of a crash. Fear consumed him, and he fled.

He ran, he didn’t want to be yelled at. Or want to see the disgust on the other's face. Not wanting to see the slowing realisation, that he had not been worth all this.

It was hard enough, their relationship. With his awful memory and inability to feel. Add Error’s haphephobia, temper, and their fights over creation and destruction. It was a surprise they worked at all.

Yet they did, Error somehow loved him, despite the fact that he couldn’t return those feelings in full. But he did feel so much for Error. Love…he was thinking that more and more these days, A emotion that he was sure was the most impossible to feel out of all of them. Yet it came up in his mind more and more. Cause what other feeling could that warm yet terrifying feeling be? And Error might be the first person he felt so strongly about. And it terrified him, 'cause if it wasn't that. That would mean breaking Error’s heart…and he was so scared to lose him.

Because Error was despite everything a great boyfriend. He could be a downright asshole sometimes and yell at him a lot. But most of it was deserved. Dream didn’t seem to like it, but it helped that someone reeled him in and just point out he was being a dick. Yet also didn’t force him to change.

But Error also helped him with the confusing emotions, not caring when he was high up on one colour, And never demanding for him to find a balance that was ‘normal’. In fact seemed to enjoy it, when he let himself go for him.

His hands were brushing over the blue vial again carefully taking another sip, as from the dept of his mind a memory serves from a little while after they first started dating.

They had been sitting on handmade swings from Error’s strings. And Error pushed himself into a slight swing.

“I still don’t see how you can say they are all fake Squid”

“Error…it’s…” He sighed “They just are okay?… I could drink any of these, and suddenly i would not be enjoying this date anymore!”

“But you ain't doing that?”

“But I could!”

“So?”

“What do you mean? So?”

“Some people take drugs to make themselves feel different right? Or drink? Or take medication so they feel more in control, how is that different?”

“Cause they don’t change their entire personality?!”

“Your paints don’t do that? So you are a bit more cheerful, or more sad, but you are still You, You are still an annoying inkblot, that will somehow make a mess out of everything. Sometimes you forget to take them, sometimes you take too much, it’s still you,”

He didn’t remember what face he made, but Error came to a stop.

“Look here, no look me in the eye. I know with what kind of abomination I fell in love with Capiché?! God knows I asked myself why! And I am FULLY aware that someday you might forget your paints, go completely blank and forget whatever made you so obsessed with me. Yet you are here. And not because those paints made you. Cause YOU choose to Ink! “

He must have looked doubtful cause Error continued on

“Look... You got the full set now right? A nice concoction of all your colours.”

He had given a nod.

“You could at this moment, pick and choose just a single one of them, yet you don’t, you let them mix inside you, and form who you are, You might ‘pick’ “ He made big quotation marks with his fingers. “Your emotions more than we do, but that's just you being you, and I fucking like that okay. And I trust, that this is the truth of your wants”

He stayed quiet

“You are quite the fool”

Error just shrugged

“Sure, yet you don’t leave me, so I say we both are”

He was smiling despite not having taken any of his warm colours. But yellow was in green, and red in purple. So that might be how…who knows, you think he did after all this time. But if he had written down all the times the paints acted differently than he thought they would, his scarf would be 10 times its size.

A crunch of snow sounded behind him. He had been found.

He held his breath and didn’t look up when the other's shadow fell over him. “Fucking hell, you stupid Squid, did you have to run off….”

Error’s voice trailed off, as he kept his gaze on the ground below. The other let out a deep sigh “Right….” And then a thud sounded next to him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw one of Error's legs laid out on the snow next to him.

He turned his head more to stare at said leg Seemed the other had sat down, one leg crossed under him, the other sprawled out, He didn’t dare look up. Still kinda waiting to be smacked over the head at the very least.

The silence stretched on, and the longer it continued, the more confused he became.

“W-what are you…doing?”

He hear some rustling of clothes so he assumed the other shrugged.

“The same as you do after I crash, I think, waiting for the worst to pass, until you're willing to talk”

“W-what if I don’t want to”

“Tough luck Inkblot, if you won’t let me escape after a crash, you ain't escaping after nearly overdosing yourself on blue paints, seriously Squid, it looks like you smashed several blueberries on your face”

“I might have” He countered weakly, and Error snorted.

“Any other day, I’d believe you, you’re stupid enough”

He gave a weak glare at the other's knees.

“Now come on Squid, spill”

“Spill…what do you mean spill…” He was confused., Was the other not mad? He had ruined their first kiss. Why was the other not yelling at him, telling him how disgusting he had been?

“You are obviously upset, so tell me so I can help you”

He felt his fingers clench as a short flame of anger seemed to flare up from somewhere deep inside him. “Like you don’t know…” he muttered

“You think I'd be asking if I did, idiot”

“STOP!” He finally looked up, more tears falling, but his anger was snuffed out the second his gaze landed on Error's face.

The bottom of his face was still covered in black ink. It covered the bottom of the blue streaks that came out of Error's eyes, making them nearly impossible to see. He could still see black between the other's teeth as well. Good god, he felt awful, he wanted to reach out and help remove it, just as much as he wanted to curl away and hide.

Errors brow furrowed. “Fuck, did I screw it up that badly?”

He grew even more confused “What?”

Error's gaze left him to glare at the ground instead and he murmured, almost too low to understand.

“Didn't think I'd be that bad at kissing”

He scrabbled up, as a whole different emotion filled his system

“What no! NO not at all! How dare you say that! That kiss was amazing, better than anything I’ve ever experienced. It made me feel so much!“

He grabbed the other's jacket sleeve, careful not to touch him. Not sure how glitched out his boyfriend was after the near crash he caused.

“I’ve felt so many colours, all at once like never before! It was so overwhelming like…like a shower of ink of all my favourite feelings just rained down on top of me. It really, really wasn’t bad. Believe me!”

He was panting at the end of his little declaration, tears still falling from his face with how much blue he had drank, as his body trembled with fear, fear that he had caused the other to doubt himself, that he might have scared Error away from ever trying something like that again.

Error in response simply raised a browbone.

“Yet you still ran…”

He gave Error a helpless look. “Of course I did…after screwing up like that”

Errors eyes narrowed further until something of an understanding came over him “Wait…are you talking about the whole ink thing? Dude…that’s what got you like this?”

He warped his arms around himself, hoping to stiffel down all the emotions he drank. Trying to get some kind of comfort that he knew the other wouldn’t be able to give at this moment.

“Of course it is…”

“Ink…”

He curled more into himself, swallowing thickly.

“Go ahead…it’s fine..” he mumbled

“Wha…Ink? What are you talking about now!?”

He shrugged, not looking back up. “Yell at me…call me disgusting…I dunno…smack me for forgetting not to get your clothes dirty. … break up with me” On the last part he felt his voice crack.

He didn’t think that would hurt, but it did…and it felt somewhere deeper than where his paints normally reached, Just like that one emotion that was so terrifying, And it was of course in the moment of his biggest screw-up he realised he might have truly and deeply fallen in love with Error. Might…have…it could still not be real..but would it hurt like this if it wasn’t? But he continued on with his speech before he lost what he was trying to say. Tabeling that terrifying thought for now.

“It’s what I deserve for that disgusting display”

The wind blew past them, making an almost whistling sound. It sounded eerie and foreboding. His body was trembling, waiting for the other's judgement.

But no yell came, no hit, nothing….until he felt something on his hands. The warmth was something he recognised immediately and he opened his eyes, to see Error’s multicoloured hands holding his own trembling hands together. Glitches were passing over them almost gently and he could feel the tingle of them.

The action filled him with a confused warmth. He looked back up to see Error staring at their hands as well, opening and closing his mouth, like he was trying to say something. But sometimes shook his head, like the words weren’t good enough.

They sat like that in silence for a bit, the pleasant tingle slowly becoming more of a painful itch as the glitches grew more intense. But he wouldn’t let go before Error did…not knowing if this could be the last time for something like this. But eventually, his confused curiosity won out.

“Error..?”

Error's eyes looked up And for a moment he seemed helpless and sad, but it seemed to pass the longer he was stared at. His hands were squeezed drawing his attention back to them. Wanting to squeeze back, not sure if he should

“I didn’t find it disgusting…” Error stated. He looked back up, Error eyes held a determined gaze, like daring him to be contradicting.

“It wasn’t…pleasant or…expected. But not disgusting. So stop saying that you are…Okay?”

This time it was his turn to raise a brow at Error. “I threw up ink…IN your mouth…You…you really want me to believe…That didn’t bother you…That it isn’t horribly -”

“Yes, you idiot!” Error huffed impatiently.

“If you can deal with me glitching out, and not hugging me and touching me when I ask for it. Despite your love for physical affection. Having dealt with that for years. Then I can suck up my fucking pride and not yell at you for getting us covered in ink. Because you couldn’t help it, It really isn’t as bad as you seem to think it is”

He felt a slight flush on his face, “That’s not…that’s not the same”

“Fucking bullshit Ink. Honestly, I don’t see why you are so upset about it…” He flinched trying to pull back, feeling a bit hurt, but that might be the blue paint.

Error sighed “Wait..fuck..no, poor choice of wording. What I mean is…like...I don’t get it. Like Really Ink, It’s not the first time, we’ve dealt with you being too excited to hold in all your emotions”

“But it normally doesn’t kill the mood this bad…or make you suffer it with me, and just Rruin the whole thing we have been trying to plan for mon-”

Error lifted their hands cutting off his little spiel. “Did it really ruin anything? It didn’t for me… not until after you ran off, And from what you said, until right the moment before you couldn’t keep it in, you were enjoying yourself as well.”

“But..it happened so fast, and no one wants to have ink sp-”

A kiss was planted against his knuckles, more glitches sprang forth from the connection. Almost hiding the other's face from view for a few seconds. But the kiss was warm, making it feel like his hands were on fire. If he had had even slightly more yellow, red, or god forbid pink in his system. The colours it would have brought up would have made him puke again.

But now it only gave him a gentle warmth that spread throughout his chest, making him feel confused fondness along with the sadness and fear of losing his relationship with Error.

“Squid…it’s just ink…It really isn’t as bad. Not the nicest taste in the world, but I won’t die from it…immortal remember.” Error gave a slight quirk of a smile, mouth still close to their hands but not touching it anymore.

He realised the burning feeling in his hands…might actually be how bad Error’s glitches were affecting his body. If he was burning, Error must be in a lot of pain as well…yet his hands were still held onto. Not being dropped for a second, it kept a warmth burning in his chest that didn’t seem able to be put out.

“Besides…it’s flattering in a way…if what you said was true” In the other's eyes was a teasing glint…almost prideful in a way. Like he was boasting about something, holding something shiny that only he could have far above anyone's head

He cocked his head to the side confused. “Flattering?...how…how is it flattering?”

Errors smile turned bemused, dropping their hands back down, but one hand let go to reach for the end of his own scarf.

“Answer me this…cause I could be wrong, but I am pretty sure I ain't. When do you normally expel your paints? “

He blinked a couple of times rapidly, becoming even more confused.

“What does-?” “Humor me Squid, it will make sense.”

He narrowed his eyes “It…it normally only happens when...I feel too much of one emotion, or if I have too many and it mixes weirdly…”

“Mnn. mmm. So I was correct”

That didn’t answer anything!

“Error I really don’t get what you’re trying to say here…correct about what?!”

Error’s smile fell, half concerned. “You really don’t see it?” The other hand wrapped it itself into the scarf.

He looked around helplessly once again, “No, I… I really don’t see how any of this was flattering?”

“Let me phrase it differently then…Did you mean it when you said, this never happened with anyone else you kissed”

“Yes, and I am so sorr-”

“A kiss” The other broke him off, staring straight into his eyes “NEVER made feelings rise in you so much, you had to expel them?” At that, his face flushed, and he could see what the other was trying to say. The conclusion the other had gotten, and the underlying truth of it.

He was pretty sure he was blushing quite badly, and with the rising grin on his face, Error seemed to know he had finally understood as well. He shook his head, he couldn’t believe it..he didn’t dare believe it. As Error leaned a tiny bit forward. His eyes never left his.

“I did that…” He had said it, without any room for argument left, full of a boastful pride “You felt so much, one way or the other, that it exploded out of you, that you couldn’t control it. To me, that seems like a pretty big compliment, Especially now after you insisted that my kiss didn’t suck “

He felt his magic turning inside of him, if he had a soul, this would be the moment he suspected it would hammer at his chest. Out of embarrassment or because of….love. Maybe a terrifying mixture of both, For now, it left him anxiously still and flushed.

Errors hand came up to hold his chin, scarf in-between as a sort of barrier, it didn’t do much, but his bones weren’t burning right away, so better than nothing. The hold, kept him gazing up at Error.

“I promise you Ink, I really don’t mind this at all, But if it really bothers you this much still, we can look into ways to prevent it, so it won't happen, I doubt we get there all at once, but I am willing to try if you are..okay. Your worth trying for Kiki.”

The little bit of his warm mixture of colours was really doing a workout after hearing that little nickname. Trying to warm him with all the love in the world. Feel all the emotions he wanted, but it was stuck at warm affection. With tears forming once more, at the unfairness of it, not able to fully feel that warmth.

“Thanks….Ruru.” He got another small smile, then the other slowly pulled away. But then stopped as he hesitated for a second.

“Ru-?!”

Error moved forward and quickly kissed his cheek. He felt his eyes widen, And when Error pulled away, his face was flushed a dark blue, not meeting his eyes anymore. His own free hand reached up and traced where Error’s teeth just were. Still feeling the lingering ghost of glitches, proofing that it hadn’t been his imagination.

He was blinking rapidly, feeling his eyes shift between colours and shapes. As far as he knew, Error hadn’t kissed his cheek before today either. Error had gone right in for the big guns, with their first kiss. But this random bit of small affection was using up all the warm colours that were still lingering in his system.

Like a muted version of that sunrise mixture from before. He quickly dropped his hand to his paint stash grabbing for his warm colours. But before he could raise one to his mouth, a hand tugged at this sleeve.

“You don’t have to…Don’t feel like you need to just because-” “Error” He cut him off this time And he felt himself smile at him.

“I want this…I get to decide my emotions, Trust me…this is what I want..”

The other huffed a laugh and let go.

“Just wanted to be clear…I don’t need you to force yourself to be happy if you're still sad about” He waved his arm around, indicating…well everything.

“I was..am? But I also know I feel happy about what you said, and now I wanna feel it to its fullest, so shut up and let me drink my paints”

And with that, he started taking sips from all the colours he neglected before until he got to a nice balance…When he was done, he held on to the pink one …the one that made him feel affection and love…as well as embarrassment and shame.

Debating for a second more, then took an extra swig from the vial, and put it away. When he looked back at Error he saw the other was blushing a nice shade of yellow this time around.

He couldn’t help the happy giggle that escaped him. “Idiot…” The other mumbled into his scarf.

He felt a way stronger wave of fondness come over him and squeezed the hand he was still holding. The glitches seemed to have died down a little, or his hand was burned enough not to notice anymore…one of the two

He looked around trying to find the paintbrush he dropped earlier. Until it appeared in front of his eyes, making him nearly go cross-eyed. He plucked it from Error's fingers with a huff. “Thanks, Ruru~”

The other rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. He unwound his own scarf, looking for a good place to write all this down. Trying to word it in a way that would make sense for him if he ever forgot. But something inside him hoped this was one of the few memories he could retain. He might…it involved Error after all.

When he was done and looking back up, he saw that Error had removed his scarf as well, looking at the ink stain with a slight frown. Guilt stabbed him once again, Error might find the whole process may be flattering, didn’t mean there weren’t some casualties.

He held out his hand, “I could fix that for you,” Error met his eyes, ‘I know, it’s fine…just wondering about something”

“What is it?”

“How come yours isn’t stained, you got ink dripping down your chin as well”

He let out a startled laugh, leave it to Error to notice that of all things, And now of all times.

“Sci helped me make a special tonic for it that repels it, is easier than cleaning it with broomie every time”

“And you only use it on your scarf, and not your whole outfit because?”

He shrugged “Cause it’s a pain to make, and my scarf is the only piece that is important to not get completely ruined, and besides, if I used broomie I might accidentally remove some notes”

He paused for a moment as he got an idea and continued with a slight blush “I got some spare bottles, for when the magic wears off…I could treat yours with it if you want to?”

Errors eyes widened. “You would do that…”

He gave a nod, feeling his face warm even more “Yeah well..if…if what happened today…happens again... It might be a good idea?”

“I’ll….think about it” he gave a nod. He was about to suggest they get out of this snowy cliff and maybe back to the Antivoid or Doodle Sphere when Error moved closer.

“Hold still for a moment, will you?”

“Oh…sure?” He went to sit back and keep as still as he could.

A new light flush was forming on Error’s face, as he shuffled forward. His flush was a dark blue again. It was almost glimmering, glittering, like. Well, glitter. His blush was something so uniquely Error’s. Most monsters blush in the colour of their magic, but not Error’s. No, it switched between yellow and blue. Sometimes a dark blue, that got darker and darker looking like a beautiful night sky, with yellow sparkles in them. Other times the blush was a yellow glow, and only seemed to grow brighter and brighter, with blue-ish freckles shaped like stars.

In all his musings on the other's blush he didn’t notice how close the other had gotten until he felt something against his face. Slowly rubbing back and forth, first gently. Then with a bit more force.

It took him a couple more seconds to realise the other was whipping his face clean off all the ink stains that his tears and throwing up had caused with his scarf. And now his own face was covered in its own blush.

Flustered eyes met Error’s, who was trying to do the whole ‘Totally not affected by this at all’ stick, he let him have it if it meant Error stayed close and showered him with soft attention.

“You..you don’t have to...” he half whispered “It’s fine if it needs to be cleaned anyway, the least I can do is make you look decent after making you cry like that” He felt blue and pink fighting to make their way to the surface. He let the feeling pass over him as he mumbled “Wasn’t you…” “I….I know..but..still..” The other had a slight frown.

Error…must have been pushing down a lot of his own feelings to help him here. No matter his tough, nothing can bother me, front. It must have hurt, to open himself up like that and for him to run away. Looking back it was a real asshole move, even if he hadn’t intended it that way. An apology right now would be brushed off…he’ll think of something to thank him at a later date..

At first, he thought he was imagining it, but no. Error was definitely looking at his mouth every so often. The thought that Error might want to kiss him again, even after everything…made the blush grow, slowly covering all of his face. When the last of the ink was wiped off, both their gazes seemed to shift between their eyes and mouth.

Never before had he felt so nervous…and gave an answer to the unasked question. “I…i will throw up again…most likely” His voice was now an actual whisper, afraid he might have broken the moment. He felt Errors tri coloured eyes stare right down into him, “I know…” “You might crash… you are glitching pretty hard..” “I am aware”

The scarf had dropped from the others hand and he was touching his cheek with the tips of his fingers. That barest hint of touch was sending several shivers down his spine. Both of them were flushed, so close, all it took was one push.

“Do you want…?” “Yes…”

Error voice was half a plead, even if he would deny it till the end of days. But the other wasn’t moving closer, he was hovering just above him like he couldn’t take that final step. And he realised the other was waiting on him, for a sign from him,. That another kiss would be welcomed. Not wanting to risk him running away again.

But he had no intention of running, even now knowing what was to come. Error really didn’t seem to mind…seemed to expect him to vomit ink again.Yet didn’t move away, stayed close even.. And himself…he was too desperate to feel those wonderful emotions again. Wanted to try and show Error what he did to him, and hopefully share them.

And with that, the next step came easy. With a sigh, he pushed up, eyes fluttering close, as he pressed his teeth against Error’s.

He heard Error’s short gasp just before they connected. And when it did he started feeling so much once more. Buckets of paint seemed to slam into him, and it was a lot. He was trembling with it. But he was determined to hold out more than 3 seconds this time. He felt the others glitches. Like drops of hot oil springing from a pan, burning and surprising. But he wouldn’t pull away, a little pain was worth the mounting warmth in his chest. Error's hand came to fully cup his face, pulling him closer, his own hand mirroring it, feeling the glitches beneath his hand spark. The rough bone he so rarely got to touch seemed to tremble as much as him. And the warmth of the blush was intense beneath his fingers.

His other hand finally let go of Error’s to clutch at his shoulder instead, It was difficult to stay upright, he felt overwhelmed with the rush of emotions surging through him. The teeth against his own opened a tiny bit and he felt the slight heat of a tongue against his closed mouth. It made a moan escape his teeth, he was pretty sure he had never done that before from a simple kiss.

Error answered it with a small little growl of his own. The ink was boiling inside of him, he tried to let Error know, gently pushing at his shoulder. But instead, Error pushed closer, and the sound around them got filled with buzz and static. And Error spoke against his teeth, with a voice deeper and more glitched out than he heard in a while.

“Don’t hold any of those feelings back, Ink. Show me how you feel…” Pressing closer, not letting go of his mouth. Staying close like he wanted to taste it again. He felt the pink colour expand and take over all other colours, more and more until all he felt was his deep, deep love for Error.

Then it ran over, and he felt the ink rise from his throat. Right against Error's mouth again, the wetness dripped between their mouths. Making a new mess of their faces.

He felt dazed, going a bit slack against the other. He wasn’t sure, but the other might be smiling against his teeth until finally pulling away. His face felt incredibly hot, part of him still wanted to run away and hide. But a larger part of him was completely overwhelmed by the way Error looked.

Error's face was still flushed darkly, new ink stains covering his chin, and his fingers had smeared the old ones on one side of his face... Errors eyes were filled with error signs, and he probably couldn’t see a thing. Yet he still felt the fingers gently stroking at his flushed face, and the other had a small content smile he wasn't sure he had ever seen before.

It was a look he really wanted to capture. Two of Error's five tongues darted out for a second, licking at the mess on his face. Then he saw the other's throat move. And he felt himself blush even harder

“ERROR! Did you just…did you just swallow my ink?!…. Please don’t do that?! That can't be good for you?! And you said it wasn’t pleasant!”

Despite the other still not being able to see, Error let out a cackle dropping the hands from his face “I can do whatever I so please squid.” Error turned his head to look at him seriously, but was turned a bit too far to the side, but he wouldn’t mention it.

“It isn't pleasant…but it’s you. And you are mine…so I do what I please with this unless it bothers you”

He felt his chest squeeze in affection and worry. “Just…don’t do it every time?”

The other nodded, “ I can live with that”

He slowly dropped his hands from Error's face so the other could reel himself in a bit more quickly. He was sad to let the warmth go. But he got so much more than he ever thought he would ever get to have with Error. So he could table his desires for now. There will be more times in the future when he could hold the other.

And maybe someday, far far away, they wouldn’t have to worry about it at all.

He gave Error's shoulder a final squeeze and stepped away. Looking around, he spotted broomie, who he must have dropped when he first entered here. He went over and picked him up as well as both their scarves. Used broomie too quickly, clean the ink stains of Error’s, and then sat down next to his lover. As he drank some more paint to replace what he just lost, but this time, deciding to stay in what felt like a healthy balance. Then he started to write down the last of his notes.

Apologize to Error for running away after first kiss! Do something, don’t just say sorry.

Second kiss went better. Still puked, But Error Truly doesn’t care if it does happen. Seems annoyed if I hold back the feelings (still wanna kiss him longer so LOOK INTO CONTROLLING IT at least a little)

…I think…I truly do love Error…

After a few quiet moments, the buzzing and static noise finally died down. He deemed it safe enough, and carefully went put Errors scarf back around him, careful to not accidentally brush against him. And when he finished the final loop, it seemed the last of the error’s signs had left the other's eyes. Who was giving him a look between fond and annoyed?

He stood up once again, “So shall we go then?”

Error sighed and with a groan and some popping sound stood as well. That near crash must have stiffed him up really bad. “Yeah, we should, probably have to work soon anyway”

“Probably yes….was one of the better breaks from it tho” He said opening a portal to the Antivoid without question, The better for Error to recover after two near-crashes.

“Even with the emotional episode? ” Error asked, half amused, half worried. Opening his own portal and stepped through it.

He jumped through his own, appearing behind Error. Who quickly spun around with an eye-roll at his antics. “Of course, got to kiss you twice…didn’t I? “

Both of them flushed, and then he couldn’t help his own giggles. “Thank you…Ruru…I mean it. Thank you…for being.. so nice about everything…and my little freakout... In the end…I really enjoyed myself”

The other hid his face in his scarf and mumbled something he couldn’t hear, before facing him fully. “Yeah, yeah, well don't get used to it…was a special occasion”

He let out another giggle, he didn’t believe that for a minute. “Of course glitchy, I understand.”

Error huffed “yeah well…just so you know…idiot squid” “I know , Glitchy” He just kept smiling at the other. And the other's eyes narrowed in a glare he turned to walk past him towards the small space in the Antivoid he called home. Error grasped his sleeve, and pulled him along.

“Yeah, yeah, Love you Kiki”

He felt hit with another wave of the biggest and scariest emotion of them all. It was so much bigger now that he had all his paints. Bigger than when he took more of the pink. Like now that things were in balance. The strength of it stood out. A hint of fear rose up in him. What he was about to do, might change everything. Destroy what they just patched up. But he couldn’t help it, the words wanted to be free.

No. They needed to be said, and for the other to be known. Cause Error let him know, in his own gruff way. He should know it was finally and truly returned. That this wasn’t a passing curiosity, that he wouldn’t let the other go…not anymore. It might not be the real thing…but it would probably be as close as he could ever get to it. And that is what he had wanted, more than he could ever have wanted.

“Love you too, Ruru” The words were barely a whisper, and his voice gained an awe to it. Feeling himself mean it to the fullest he ever had. He had been sure he had to say it again he had been so quiet. But Error suddenly froze in his stride.

The other turned around, eyes wide, Face covered in a yellow blush, matching his own rainbow one.. He felt himself smile shyly. It had felt so different to say it than at any other time in his long life, he hoped the other understood. But Error would understand, might understand better than anyone else how he functioned. He would know this would be the truest he ever could be, he was scared of saying it again now. Not sure he could put the same amount of feeling behind it again. Not wanting to cheapen it.

The next second he was pulled close, as an unexpected kiss was placed against his teeth. And while before it felt like being showered with buckets of paint. This..This felt like being thrown into an ocean of colours.

There was so much, and not just his own. He could feel Error sending his feelings to him with his magic. His fear, His relief, His frustration, His joy, His love, Everything., And he did the same, tried to at least Had no idea how or if it was even working because within the next second ink had spilled from his mouth once more. Dripping all over their faces

But Error didn’t move away this time. No, he dove in for another even hungrier kiss. And his whole face must be flushed in all the colours he had taken. Feeling the other's tongues against his teeth. And not just the one, but all of them pressing at the seam of his mouth. Without really thinking about it too much, he opened his mouth to them. The chemical taste of ink was still in his mouth, as was the burning and tingling sensations of glitches everywhere they touched.

It was the closest he ever felt to having a soul. It took him another few moments to realize he should properly make his own tongue form as well. And as soon as he did, it was struggling against the overwhelming force that was Error’s tongues and love. But before he could even figure out what that taste of the destroyer was. Another surge of ink came from him. Which Error swallowed down, licking it up with a little groan.

The overwhelming feeling was dying out, quickly and slowly turning more numb. He gave a weak push against Error's chest, the other made a soft sound of protest. And that send a pang of some feeling he couldn’t identify anymore…he pushed again. Not wanting to keep kissing without his paints…not for something like this.

Maybe..he’ll let Error do that in the future…maybe…he could trust him with that…. Error pulled away. Not far.. But as he did he felt most of his emotions, leaving with it. He started up at Error.

“Ah…ink?” He mumbled.

That was warm…hearing his name. It was a good feeling hearing the other say his name. He swayed a bit, wanting to listen to Error's soul…but remember something about permissions

“Can I hug you…?” He mumbled “Yeah..yeah if you want…”

He wrapped his arms around Error, placing his head on the other's chest like he wanted. The sound from inside was a fast drum, almost fluttering. “I meant it….” he said, tho the feeling was far away, almost out of reach, he knew that he did. He felt arms warp around him as well, keeping him close, not as tight as he would like…but he wouldn’t push. Doesn’t want the other to get hurt

“I know Kiki….Thank you”

He shook his head softly “Don’t thank me…just…keep loving me like that…and I do the same…to the best I can…I promise”

He felt the other's teeth twist into a wider smile on top of his skull. “I will Inky…I will” He was squeezed softly

“I am yours now” He promised softly. And Error let out a short laugh. “Tell me that when you're on all your paints as well…Because then…this…this relationship of ours…it would mean forever okay? You won’t be able to get rid of me” A soft nuzzle against the top of his head. “If you want forever of course, just …give me those words again…knowing you remember would be all the proof I need that you want it… And I know you will remember…you always remember the sappy shit”

Error's voice was soft, and something surged from deep inside him like this meant more than he could currently comprehend. “Forever sounds nice..” he answered with a smile.

It was a while later, when his body was filled with warmth again, As he kept drinking the concoction of paints in his hands, not sure how it got there. When he finished the last drop he realized a couple of things. One: He was still in the Antivoid. Two: He was lying on Error’s bean bag. And three: He was leaning against Error. He tried to think about how that happened. But the last thing he remembered was that overwhelming kiss, and being hugged afterwards as all his feelings dripped out of him.

He rarely let himself drain that completely and he felt his face flush. And a kiss was placed against the side of his head. And he turned to face Error who was looking smug. Like everything he ever wanted had landed on his lap.

And maybe in some way, it has… He gave the other a small smile “Hey…” “Hey…” “You ain't…glitching as much” “Had some time to recover”

He nodded “How long was I?” “Half a day or so..not long, I Promised I wouldn’t let you be blank for more than a day remember”

His hand went to his scarf, he could vaguely remember writing that down long ago. “Sort of….yeah..” The other smiled self-satisfied His mind tore over the memories of just before it all became fuzzy. The promise he made in his near-emotionless state felt so much bigger now. He had meant it, and a forever with Error sounded truly wonderful. The request on Error’s end…had almost been a proposal.

Forever…huh… He could get used to forevers like this. But he wanted to be sure, wouldn’t want to break Error's heart in the long run with a promise like that made carelessly.

“Ruru..?” The other hummed “Forever sounds nice…if a bit scary…I hope you won’t mind terribly waiting a bit longer”

Error's face flushed Like he hadn’t expected him to address it right out of the gate, but he didn’t want Error to doubt. He remembered, and in a few minutes, he would write all of this down.

He got a nod “As long as you need, we aren't in a rush.” “Thanks, Error” “No Ink…Thank you”

Yeah….They’ll work it out. For now, he snuggled back under Error’s arm and let himself bask in all the feelings that had returned to him. Later they’ll talk…about the kisses, and how to proceed. But for now. He could say he was feeling pretty well-loved, and he was able, to give some of it in return.

Turns out, he hadn’t ruined anything. No…he had gained something even more special.

Later he wrote two more notes on his scarf

If you ever tell Error you are his…he will stay with you forever.

The number of times I told Error I loved him. tally 1

#undertale #utmv #errink #error sans #ink sans #noffy's writing #fanfic #undertale fanfic #ink x error #undertale au #sans au

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anjumstar · 1 year ago

Text

Sand Lines Ch3, Thursday

Read on AO3

rating: teen

pairing: bakudeku

word count: 18.1k/40.6k

summary: It wasn’t a vacation. It was only convenient that Katsuki’d managed to trick Miruko into thinking it was.

Katsuki doesn’t need a break. Post-war life has been peaceful. Too peaceful. So under the guise of a vacation, Katsuki heads to the American southwest, the only place where he can do the thing he wants to do the most: blow stuff up. Big time. And it’s all going to according to plan for about five minutes, until Deku comes along. They’ve barely seen each other since graduation last year and Katsuki could, should blow him up for getting in his business yet again. Instead, they learn about post-war life in the way they’ve done everything: together.

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Alamogordo, New Mexico

Twin phone pings raised Katsuki from sleep.

The sun was up, and Katsuki had to squint the room into the cool morning light that wouldn’t melt into yellows and golds until the sun made its way over the mountain. So it was early, but not that early.

“What was that?” Izuku asked as he leapt out of bed, already hunting for which pocket on which disposed pair of pants he’d left his phone in.

“Beats me.”

The two of them had hardly received a single notification between them since being in New Mexico, at least not while they were awake. Most notifications from Japan came in the middle of the night, and, of course, the two of them were always together, so there was no need to text each other. So it was a jolt to get a sound notification, even just after a few days of relative silence.

“It’s a local alert,” Izuku said, phone in his hands and pants still dangling from one finger. He was already reaching for the car keys. “It’s less than a mile away.”

“Then what are you doing without pants on?” Katsuki huffed, yanking a pair on himself.

“Wha—you’re not wearing a shirt!”

Both were immediately rectified, then Katsuki reached for his costume accessories. Perhaps his gauntlets were excessive, but he’d never run into a mission in Japan without them, so why would he here? There were more variables, more unknowns in this place than the place he’d lived all his life and regularly patrolled. He needed all the firepower he had. Katsuki stretched his fingers and noted that they felt fine again. A bit of recovery time was all he’d needed.

They tumbled out onto the motel balcony and down the stairs that shook with each footfall, leaping into the front seats of the SUV. As soon as Katsuki turned the key, he gunned it out of the parking space and headed in the direction Izuku pointed. He switched which hand was on the wheel as he slipped his gloves on.

“It’s a robbery,” Izuku detailed, scrolling between the report and the map. “A jewelry store.”

“Quirks?” Katsuki asked, skidding onto the main road. The weight of the vehicle swung to one side, and Katsuki had to remember how big the damn SUV was, and that one bad turn would have it rolling.

“Don’t know yet—the alarm came from a security system, not a witness,” Izuku said, swiping his hand down to refresh. “Damn, it’s so close, we should’ve just run.”

“No one knows our quirks here,” Katsuki pointed out. “What kind of idiot gives them away on arrival? ‘Sides, I can get us there faster than you can get a damn sentence out.”

Katsuki focused his mind on his quirk, opening his pores to put something, anything into his gloves. It wasn’t particularly hot out yet to get his sweat naturally going. The night’s dehydration made his whole body feel wrung out and hung up to dry in the parched desert air.

“Turn ahead! That’s the spot!”

Katsuki turned a hard right into the turn-off for the complex just before the store. They needed to leverage every bit of surprise they had.

“I hope the coward hasn’t bailed,” Katsuki said, sliding on one gauntlet as he hopped out of the car.

“It’d be hard to give chase here,” Izuku agreed, stepping out without any support item greater than his arm brace.

The land was flat and open, and no one was out on the main streets yet because none of these establishments were open except for one 24/7 fast food joint. So with the bird’s eye view that Float or Katsuki’s explosions afforded them, it could be easy to find someone on the run. But the moment they disappeared, there were no witnesses, no leads, and no security compared to what was set up in the city. The trail would go cold fast.

They stood out of view of the entrance to the jewelry shop. There were so few cars on the road that even theirs pulling in next door could have aroused suspicion. But Izuku’s Danger Sense hadn’t gone off—he would have said so—so they weren’t about to be ambushed. Still, Izuku crept with a level of stealth Katsuki wasn’t known for over to the side to get a sense of the situation.

“There’s one lookout,” Izuku whispered. “No lights on in the store, can’t tell the presence inside.”

“So we grab the lookout, get him to spill about the idiots inside, then restrain them with the intel,” Katsuki rumbled, his low voice never quite managing to fall into a whisper.

“I’ll use Blackwhip and you follow behind.”

“Next to you, not behind!”

Izuku was already moving. One For All didn’t so much as flicker over his skin, but his hands were loose, ready for Blackwhip to release from his wrists.

The land was so open there was no cover on their way to the shop. They couldn’t run and dart around corners, skulk through alleyways like in the city. So Izuku was walking, casually as he could manage—which meant quite stiffly, but no one else would know that his gait was any different—until Blackwhip would be in better range.

The lie would be better if they were side by side, maybe faking a conversation, playing dumb and not knowing that the shop wasn’t open yet. But then again, acting was no more Izuku’s strong suit than it was Katsuki’s. And it was already too late to do something more scripted.

It happened before Katsuki—or the poor sucker playing lookout—knew it. Blackwhip shot out of Izuku’s wrists and immediately one coil was around the guy’s legs, another around his arms, and another around his mouth. One strand was wrapped thinly around his neck, probably to encourage silence. Even with his mouth tied off, a muffled yell in this silent country would carry.

Izuku reeled the guy in like he was a gasping fish on the line. When he was close enough to whisper, Izuku began: “How many of you are there—hold up fingers, don’t speak.”

While Izuku’s voice wasn’t very intimidating in English—the language was all rough edges and harsh consonants, and that wasn’t Izuku—his glowering face as serpentine tendrils sparking with a mysterious energy surrounding him sure was. Or at least it was to this guy, whose eyes had gone wide, face pale as the gibbous moon that was still setting over the side of the mountain.

The lookout held up one trembling finger, and Izuku nodded towards Katsuki. This would be too easy.

Izuku held the lookout in place, keeping one eye on him and one on the shop as Katsuki ran in. Unless this thief had the quirk to end all quirks—which Izuku already had dibs on, to be honest—they’d be no match for Katsuki.

A jewelry shop, filled with tables at waist height did nothing to disguise the patrons who regularly came in, nor the villain who was standing frozen behind one of the displays. Unless he had friends who had immediately hit the deck, there wasn’t anywhere to hide but the locked employee-only offices. Katsuki grinned and put his hands together for an AP Shot.

“Gotcha, idiot.”

Katsuki fired off a mere whisper of an AP Shot towards the guy. A warning shot. Nothing that would injure the thief or the store. Katsuki wasn’t in America to make enemies, after all.

“Fuck!” the guy squeaked as he dodged just enough for the shot to still graze his shoulder, not doing much more besides smudging some soot on his baggy t-shirt.

“There’s more where that came from if you don’t surren—”

But the idiot was already on the move. With one leap, the guy was on the ceiling. Some kind of Spiderman quirk, or maybe a relative to the gecko fucker from the League, God forbid. He was scurrying along the ceiling, and Katsuki’s grin split further, dropping his second hand.

“I never like the easy way either,” Katsuki agreed, spreading his hands apart and pointing them at his moving target. “See how you like this one!”

Katsuki shot a Stun Grenade at the thief, light dancing behind his eyes for a few moments despite closing his eyes against the attack. There was a cry above his head, but before he was able to blink away the spots and gauge his opponent, he was touched on the arm, and everything changed.

The air conditioning of the shop was suddenly gone and he was back in the morning heat of the outdoors. It was obvious from the temperature to the smell to the soft earth beneath his feet that he’d been teleported, and Katsuki instantly thrashed his arm out, hoping to connect with whoever had touched him. He hated teleportation quirks. Who knew where he was now?

“Sir, stop, I’m a hero too—”

“Fuck off—!”

“Kacchan, it’s okay, it’s a hero!”

Katsuki blinked Izuku into view. His hair, bright green in the morning sun, appearing to him first. Okay, so he hadn’t been brought far. Then his vision cleared enough to see the Blackwhip coils that were still wrapped around the lookout. At that, Katsuki whipped back towards the storefront just to see a woman leading the wall crawler out with nothing more than a hand pressed between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry to surprise you,” a woman—presumably a hero, though there was no telling since she didn’t seem to be in any particular costume—said as she came in front of Katsuki. “Your power was just more than what was needed.”

Ah, screw her. He’d been using hardly a pinky finger’s worth of power. Especially compared to the big blasts he’d been letting out since he got here.

“What’s the protocol?” Izuku asked. He’d released the strands of Blackwhip that had been around the lookout’s neck and mouth, and the other strands were considerably looser as well.

“The police are on their way and’ll handle it from there,” the woman with the teleportation quirk answered. She had long, hair pulled back with nothing more than a hippy headband—absolute amateur hour for combat. “It’s up to the shop owner if they wanna press charges.”

Despite the sprawl of land and the fact that Katsuki hadn’t seen a police station during any of their drives, the cops showed up in no time. They hadn’t even turned on their sirens for the lack of traffic. Or maybe it was a small-town courtesy to those who were still sleeping. They took the wannabe thieves and that was that. The morning was quiet once more.

“How did you know that they weren’t threats?” Izuku asked, always incapable of not asking questions when a new hero was around.

“We didn’t,” Headband answered. “We had the same information as you. But they weren’t fighting back offensively, and most of the calls we get aren’t especially violent these days.”

At that moment, Katsuki noticed the crow’s feet walking behind both women’s eyes. The streaks of gray in their hair. They weren’t in their twenties or even thirties. They were middle-aged.

“Sorry, what are your hero names?” Izuku asked, still on his roll. “I’m Deku, and this is Ka—Dynamight.”

“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight,” Katsuki corrected.

“We know who you are.” The other woman smiled, deep laugh lines around her mouth. Katsuki might have expected more frown lines, like the ones he was already getting between his brows. But hers was a face that must have smiled ten times for every frown. “Top Japanese heroes, right? I’m hero Tap ‘n Go, and this is Water Foul.”

Water Foul demonstrated her quirk, spitting water out of one hand that disappeared upon hitting the other.

Katsuki frowned. “Those are the stupidest names I’ve ever heard.”

“Is that right, Great Explosion Murder God?” Water Foul asked.

“Yeah, you sound like a joke.”

“I think they make us approachable,” Tap ‘n Go replied. “Not too austere. Not too serious.”

It was hard for either of them to look too serious in their current getups. Aside from the turquoise bandana that Tap ‘n Go wore, both women were wearing ill-fitting boot-cut jeans probably with actual cowboy boots underneath, and Tap ‘n Go donned a blousy button-down while Water Foul had a lame bedazzled t-shirt. His parents would weep. At least Water Foul had shorter hair, but every part of Tap ‘n Go’s outfit was screaming to be grabbed with a fist to yank her and throw her off her feet. Approachable was one way to put it.

“I agree!” Deku exclaimed, and of course he would. “You’re very approachable!”

“Well, we didn’t mean to hijack your save,” Tap ‘n Go offered, and Katsuki tried to keep his temper tamped down. It wasn’t Japan, this wouldn’t affect ratings, and anyway, it had just been two youngsters pulling a lazy heist. “Folks around here aren’t used to heroes with as much firepower as Dynamight and Deku.”

“So what do you do then?” Katsuki challenged. “Didn’t think America would have wimpy heroes.”

“Oh, we’re not wimpy,” Water Foul shot back, smacking her fists together, not unlike Kirishima. “We could wipe the floor with you young’uns any day. We just do things different ‘round here is all.”

“Yeah, I imagine that being roaming heroes—”

“Hold it, Deku,” Katsuki interrupted, his focus intent on the two women. “You think you could beat us?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Those smile lines came again, deep crevices around the mouth as Water Foul smirked at Katsuki. It brought out the fine lines on her forehead, those eyebrows lifted in challenge. Still, her eyes sparkled with energy—maybe these heroes were bummed out that the bust hadn’t been bigger too.

“Where can we let loose?” Katsuki asked.

Water Foul and Tap ‘n Go looked at each other and laughed.

“Have you seen this place?” Tap ‘n Go asked. “Anywhere empty is fair enough. I’ll have us there in a second.”

She raised one hand, hinting toward her quirk. The name implied that all she had to do was touch someone and both of them would go wherever she wanted, just as had happened in the jewelry shop. Katsuki had no idea if it extended to just herself or objects as well, and now that the challenge had been extended, he wasn’t sure that she’d give up her advantage and just tell him. But he knew enough for the moment.

“Fuck that. Get in the car—I’m driving.”

Somewhere off of Route US-70, Otero County, New Mexico

“Just find a bit o’ shoulder that won’t puncture a tire,” Tap ‘n Go advised. “You wouldn’t believe how quick we go through tires in this country.”

Katsuki did believe it. Between the cacti and the bits of asphalt that had simply sloughed off the road to the broken glass that, as it turned out, wasn’t just for city streets, yeah there were a lot of hazards. And probably no regular road cleaners either.

“I got it,” Izuku said, leaning out the car window as Katsuki began to slow down with his hazards on. No one was behind him, nor would be for quite a while in all likelihood.

Izuku pointed one hand out the window, and circled the other hand around his thumb and forefinger, not so different from how Katsuki positioned his AP Shots. And then he used the barest bit of Air Force, just like he had in his earliest days at UA, but sparing the bones in his finger now. Dust puffed everywhere, and it was only thanks to the strength of Izuku’s move that they didn’t drive right into it.

“Park there!” Izuku exclaimed once he was back in the car, gesturing towards the land he’d just cleared.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Katsuki muttered out of reflex as he slowed the car down and bumped it onto the shoulder, right up against the chain-link fence that they were all about to jump.

“Technically this land is privately owned,” Tap ‘n Go said as she stepped out of the car. “But I know the two of us can get this done without destroying so much as a single yucca. Can you?”

“Won’t destroy anything but the smug look on your face,” Katsuki declared as he leaped over the fence without so much as a pop from his quirk.

“Hoo hoo, big talk!” Water Foul exclaimed. “I’ll promise the same.”

“Okay, let’s talk rules,” Tap ‘n Go said, clapping her hands as they hiked further from the road. “Yes, quirks, one round, a hero’s down when they’re pinned for five seconds. Two on two, obviously. When one hero’s down, that team loses.”

Katsuki looked over to Izuku for confirmation. Izuku liked to spar as much as the next guy—perhaps even more than most other heroes, just because he was totally batshit about anything to do with heroics—but he hadn’t agreed to this pissing match Katsuki had gotten them into. However, one look at Izuku’s expression of steely focus, the kind he’d always worn before coming up with a kickass plan in battle class or even that Katsuki had caught a couple times these last few days in the desert. That told Katsuki all he needed to know.

“No accessories,” Katsuki said, taking off his gloves. He’d already removed the one gauntlet, as it was hard to drive with it on, and he emptied all other grenades from his pockets. It was just him and his hands.

“Fair’s fair,” Tap ‘n Go agreed, gesturing at her clearly accessory-less body.

Even though there probably weren’t any accessories that would advantage her quirk, any hero could make use of general support equipment. Aizawa’s capture weapon, for instance, or even Izuku’s thick-ass shoes. Any hero could wear stuff to make their hits harder or their body go further. But, likely since these heroes never knew when they’d be called into battle, they didn’t seem to wear anything to their advantage. They’d learned how to fight without, but hey, Katsuki knew how to do that too.

“One minute to strategize,” Izuku haggled.

“Done,” Water Foul agreed. The two women kept walking deeper into no-man’s land while Izuku and Katsuki planted themselves.

“You know who they are?” Katsuki asked. Izuku had notebook pages covering nearly every Japanese hero, but Katsuki wasn’t sure if that insanity had gone global yet.

“No more than you do,” Izuku shook his head. “It’s gonna be hard to pin Tap ‘n Go. No matter how good a hold is, presumably she can just teleport away. Blackwhip isn’t even any good.”

“So we go for Bird Bath as our target for victory and keep Metro Pass at bay,” Katsuki surmised. “We’ll figure it out on our feet as we unpack her quirk.”

“We might have to,” Izuku agreed. “I don’t think we should play to knock out, but it might be the only way to pin her if it comes to it.”

“If you don’t wanna do it, I will, chicken,” Katsuki said, letting off one pop in his hand. He had to get her back for how she’d teleported him earlier, after all.

“How are your hands?” Izuku asked.

They were actually feeling alright. The massages had helped, but the time off had done wonders. Right now, and even back at the jewelry store, he’d felt like one-hundred percent. He wasn’t totally sure if that would continue once he was attacking in earnest, but he certainly wasn’t concerned. So there was no reason for Izuku to be either.

“That doesn’t sound like strategy to me, idiot,” Katsuki snarked, but their time was already up. The other heroes were done talking and facing them down for battle.

“Let’s do this,” Izuku said, powering up One For All. The energy caused his t-shirt to sway in its wind, reminding Katsuki of his power. It was easy to see when he was dressed as Hero Deku, saving civilians with a smile, but this Izuku, with One For All snaking between the tiny holes at the seams of his cotton shirt, was the Izuku he’d always known. Reminding him of the power and muscle and experience that lay just underneath that cotton impression. He was an Izuku who could do it.

Katsuki fired off with a blast, marking the top of the battle. He took off skyward towards Water Foul while Izuku ran across the unsteady terrain. Despite how dead the region seemed, every few centimeters of red dirt held another little patch of grass, embarrassing itself with its want for survival. They made hills in the earth that were just begging for an ankle roll or a full-out, face-planting trip. All the more reason to be in the air.

But Tap ‘n Go was quick, anticipating Izuku’s speed and appearing right in front of him, only to disappear with him a moment later. And Katsuki couldn’t waste time whipping his head around looking for him, so he continued with his target. At least now they knew for sure that Tap ‘n Go could teleport just herself as well. But maybe she couldn’t teleport into midair.

Another good reason to be airborne. Katsuki could almost swear he was going faster in the dry air than the thick, humid soup of Japan. He was descending towards Water Foul when she blasted both hands down at the ground and rose above him, landing a kick square on his back.

Katsuki fell to the ground with a thud, hopefully avoiding any cactuses, but he didn’t have the time to make a needle-related inventory while Water Foul was right above him. She threw both hands behind her back and fired two handfuls of water, accelerating her back towards the ground.

Her arms, her body, her technique looked just like his.

Katsuki rolled away and sprang back up, as Water Foul directed a spray of water where he’d just been. The water sprayed from her hands but disappeared the moment it touched the ground. It didn’t soak in or splash or evaporate. It just vanished.

Water Foul came at Katsuki as he analyzed her quirk, suddenly in close enough range to try a quirkless punch. But Katsuki was faster, and blocked her arm, unleashing a close-ranged explosion when he made contact. That threw her off balance and she tumbled sideways but didn’t fall. Despite her age, she was strong and quick and her quirk was solid. She’d taken his focus well and truly enough that he had absolutely no clue where Izuku and Tap ‘n Go were. They hadn’t drawn boundaries for the match, so that could be a problem. There was no out-of-bounds disqualification.

Katsuki’s next explosion was larger, bursting over the short distance that now stood between him and Water Foul. She was facing him, though, and pointing both hands at him to release a torrent of water at the blast. Her move wasn’t as broad as Katsuki’s—either the water couldn’t spread far, or it just wasn’t concentrated enough when it did so, like a thumb on the mouth of a hose turning a powerful spray into a sprinkle.

Just then, Izuku was racing across Katsuki’s vision, green sparks drawing his eye immediately as he tried to out-speed a teleporter. He made attempts to lash Tap ‘n Go with Blackwhip, and even connected a few times, but they weren’t building up a lot of damage.

Suddenly, Izuku lunged, almost too fast for Katsuki to see. He must have had Fa Jin stored up in his legs, because he was on Tap ‘n Go before even she could react. They tumbled to the ground, a plume of dust rising around them. Before Katsuki could begin counting off, he was tackled too, getting a mouthful of that same smokey topsoil that he’d just seen rise like steam from boiling-hot land.

But he wasn’t going down like that.

Katsuki rolled, this time definitely passing over rough desert flora, his bare arms stinging at the scrapes and punctures. But he wasn’t held, not even for one second, as he rebounded onto his feet and shot a blast right to Water Foul’s face. She coughed reflexively, and that gave Katsuki enough time to land a punch to her stomach. But, now at close range, she was able to grab both his hands, and wash his sweat right off. His hands were dry—the way her quirk worked, not even a drop of water lingered. His fuel was gone.

He opened his pores, his control and the heat enough for a little to trickle back rapidly, but they’d already been fighting for a little while, and he hadn’t drunk any water since last night. He was on low.

The next thing he knew, he’d been tackled again, but it wasn’t Water Foul. Tap ‘n Go’s long hair dangled over him as she held his arms and dug a knee into his thigh. His hands were facing up, so he was about to blast her to kingdom come when Water Foul came in again and let loose a continuous torrent on his hands. She was grinning as she nodded her head to a beat. Five. Four. Three.

Katsuki strained against the hold. Even if these two women were strong for their ages, he was in his goddamn prime. He should be able to overpower just about anyone, even with one hand tied behind his back. Even with both. But as his upper body lifted off the ground, nearly toppling Tap ‘n Go, Water Foul stepped both feet on his forearms, tendons twinging and protesting against the full weight as the timer counted down.

Two.

One.

Fuck.

Katsuki groaned as his head thumped to the ground and he gave up the struggle. Blood rushed back into his hands as Water Foul stepped off and Tap ‘n Go followed.

“Kacchan!”

Izuku’s voice was like an incoming train, tooting increasingly loudly as he ran at top speed to skid to a stop in front of Katsuki. Tap ‘n Go must have teleported him far enough away that he couldn’t interfere. The run and the fight itself had left him covered in sweat. It made his perpetually too large shirt cling to his body like a muscle tee, and a drip fell from the tip of his nose to land on the scorched earth below.

“Shit,” Izuku said, echoing Katsuki’s thoughts. Putting two and two together was easy when the two older heroes were standing tall like saguaro cactuses owning the flatlands and Katsuki their meager shadow on the ground.

“Damn, I wish we’d bet something,” Water Foul crowed, reaching a hand down to help Katsuki up. Katsuki ignored her and pushed himself upright. He tried to brush some of the dirt off of himself, but when he reached his arms, a sting followed in the wake of his hands. There were probably some cactus needles making a home in his sunburnt skin.

“Just an ole fashioned spar is enough fun for us, Water Foul,” Tap ‘n Go said. “Right boys?”

“Yes!” Izuku agreed, the defeat not seeming to bother him. Perhaps because he hadn’t been the one pinned like a fragile butterfly to a corkboard. “I have so many questions about your quirk!”

“That’s nice, why don’t we get coffee?” Tap ‘n Go suggested. “It’s still early morning.”

“Aren’t you on duty?” Katsuki asked.

Tap ‘n Go and Water Foul exchanged a glance and laughed. Katsuki prickled, and not just because of the flora in his skin.

“So much you don’t know,” Water Foul said.

Maybe he’d need something stronger than coffee.

Alamogordo, New Mexico

There were only two coffee shops in town. A Starbucks and a Starbucks drive-through.

The matcha in America was criminal. Whatever had happened to those wannabe jewelry thieves couldn’t be nearly as bad as what the sugar-coated, diabetes-inducing, sugar high-sugar crash one-two punch this beacon of capitalism was hawking. Katsuki pushed it across the table as the middle-aged heroes talked. Izuku stared at them with wide eyes, fists clenched under his chin as he nodded with every quirk nuance divulged. He was probably dying for a notebook.

Katsuki got up, tossed his full drink in the trash and grabbed a blue waiter’s notepad from the cashier. The pages were small enough that Izuku would probably fill the whole thing in just a few minutes, but it was something. Katsuki didn’t quite know why he’d grabbed it for Izuku, but he’d already dropped the thing by Izuku’s drink with a stolen pen before he could interrogate himself about it.

“Howddya keep up when you’re so old?” Katsuki butted in as he sat back down. Izuku might have given a disapproving frown, but he was already busy scribbling on the notepad, having burst out a Kacchan, sugoi! as thanks.

Meanwhile, Tap ‘n Go was surprised with comically wide eyes, and Water Foul was choking on her beverage. Whether because of laughter or a gasp of shock, Katsuki didn’t care—he was happy either way.

They all recovered quickly as Izuku paved the comment over, saying, “Yeah, how have you managed to have such staying power? Or have you not been heroes for very long?”

“Did it taste like we haven't been heroes for a long time?” Water Foul asked, directing a smirk at Katsuki. Katsuki scraped his teeth with his tongue, trying to get the last of that horrid beverage’s taste out of his mouth.

“So how have you done it?” Izuku asked. “We don’t have many heroes beyond their thirties except for All Might and Endeavor.”

Water Foul gestured to the window. “Look around. There aren’t too many big bad wolves here. We don’t get overworked. We get to do other things besides stress all the time. We just had to luck out and not get injured.”

“Be skilled enough, and lucky enough, to avoid injury,” Tap n’ Go amended.

“But aren’t you…” Izuku shrunk a little. His shoulders, so much bigger than they were even just a couple years ago, were hunched over, as if hiding from the words he was trying to say. “…Aren’t you…bored?”

“What’s there to be bored with?” Tap ‘n Go asked. She began ticking off her fingers. “Got an exciting job. Friends. Family. I travel a lot. Obviously. Hobbies. Community.”

“Between those and the daily doctor’s visits for how horribly old we are,” Water Foul continued, “there’s no time to be bored.”

“That’s being a hero too, though,” Tap ‘n Go insisted. “Knowing your neighbors, having community, being an active person in society. All of that contributes to society’s health in a way that being a hero doesn’t.”

“Seeing a hero implies that you’re safe,” Water Foul added. “But it also implies that there’s something to be safe from. It doesn’t necessarily increase citizens’ trust in each other or their feeling that society is healthy.”

“Society is healthy if people aren’t living in fear of each other,” Tap ‘n Go continued, taking the baton back. Clearly this was a conversation the two women had gone over before, if not to an audience than at least with each other. “If the people feel like they can trust each other and rely on each other. And those bonds are created by everyday actions. Not heroic rescues.”

“It’s enough to just be a person sometimes,” Water Foul concluded. “And to be safe doing just that.”

Even though Katsuki had only been Dynamight for a few years, it felt like ages since he’d been just Katsuki without Dynamight imprinted on the backside of his coin. Maybe since his quirk had manifested. That’s the last time he’d been just a person. Just anything.

He looked at Izuku. Those had been the best times between them up until recently. Maybe he’d had some things figured out back when he was a just that he didn’t have now. Besides the entitlement and the assholery.

Izuku, of course, had only gotten his world-changing quirk a few years ago, yet it was hard to say that he’d ever been a just. To Katsuki, he never had been.

“How do you do that?” Izuku asked the women. “Even if we’re out of uniform, we still walk around as heroes and people know us. How do we be neutral?”

“People will recognize you, it’s true,” Tap ‘n Go said. “So you’ll have to figure out what being just a person is for you, regardless of what other people think. And you’ll be a better hero when you do.”

A better hero.

Well, that’d always been a good motivator.

Alamogordo, New Mexico

They were still in the parking lot thirty minutes later.

Tap ‘n Go and Water Foul had disappeared back to wherever they’d come from with a hand on a shoulder and a flicker of light. Or perhaps they’d gotten another alert that was out of bounds of what Izuku and Katsuki could see, somewhere where only a person with a teleportation quirk could go. And despite still having half the day in front of them, Izuku and Katsuki had set up shop in the rental car.

The first aid kit—also from Walmart—that Katsuki had stocked in the car was splayed over the center console and the wrapped set of tweezers had been ripped open. In Katsuki’s periphery, Izuku had one eye shut as he focused on Katsuki’s arm, plucking yet another needle out of his bicep.

“Sorry,” Izuku said reflexively, as he had for each pull, as though he wasn’t the one doing Katsuki a favor. “I’m almost done.”

Katsuki wasn’t sure which curdled the sweet matcha in his stomach more: the pity in the apologies or the act of committing a favor itself. Either way, having Izuku so close, so focused on him made him squirm internally in a way that required deep breaths to maintain his stoicism.

It was strange, being touched by someone else. It wasn’t something Katsuki often allowed outside of a clinical setting, and he was hyper-aware of the fact that Izuku didn’t fall under that umbrella, even if that was more or less the service he was providing in this moment. But the sustained balancing touch of Izuku’s wrist against the warmth of Katsuki’s inner elbow, the puffs of breath as he looked close—it burned more than the stings from the cactuses.

“Last one, I think,” Izuku said, plucking one from up near Katsuki’s shoulder, moving toward the tender skin of his underarm. His breath moved up towards Katsuki’s neck, blistering hot against the air conditioning blasting through the car. “That’s it. I’m just gonna wipe everything down with an alcohol wipe, but if it feels like anything’s still sticking out, let me know.”

Katsuki said nothing as Izuku tore open a pouch with alcohol soaked wipes. He didn’t say that he could do the wipes himself, since he didn’t have to see in order to wipe himself down. He didn’t say that there were any remaining pricks, because there were none. Izuku had gotten them all. And he didn’t say to stop because of the pain, not just because it was manageable, but because it was barely on his mind. And he wasn’t sure what the noise in his mind was.

When Izuku started down the second arm, the rain began. And when it started, it came down hard.

“Wow,” Izuku said, squishing the wipes in his fist as he looked at the clear sheets dripping down the windows. The outside world that had been so vast and clear a moment ago was smeared flat.

“The fuck is this?” Katsuki asked as Izuku pulled away.

“It probably comes in short, heavy bursts,” Izuku offered. “We should wait it out.”

The car chilled significantly as the minutes passed. The sun was completely cloaked, and Izuku clicked the high AC down to medium, then down to low. Their breath fogged the windows, obscuring the world even more to them. The isolation, the silence, the lingering smell of antiseptic in the car—it was strange. Off. Katsuki didn’t like it. So he flicked on the window wipers, the recirc for the fog, and wrenched the car into reverse.

“Kacchan?”

“It’s spitting distance away,” he said. “We’re Japanese. Rain won’t stop us.”

“But driving will!” Izuku squeaked.

Pulling out, the rain hadn’t yet made the road too different. No tires squealing, no wild turns. It was just impossible to see, even with his headlights on. It was luckier than ever that there were hardly any other cars around. The hardest part might just be seeing the hotel sign for the turn instead of blowing past it.

“I thought it wasn’t supposed to rain here,” Katsuki grumbled, trying to keep the hold of his fingers loose on the wheel. Echoes of the past days’ pain had returned after the battle, but it wasn’t much worse than a usual day. He could go back to the range tomorrow no problem.

“I suppose it’s good luck when it does,” Izuku said, looking out at the downpour like it was some kind of miracle, and not the nemesis of Katsuki’s quirk every rainy season.

“Don’t look so damn flabbergasted,” Katsuki griped as he pulled the car into the parking spot. Easy. Spitting distance. “It’s gonna rain more than half the days this month back home.”

“It’s different here, Kacchan,” Izuku insisted, stepping out and taking a deep breath. “Smell that.”

Katsuki did, and was hit with a chest full of dirt. Dry, craggy dirt that after a long drought, was finally having a drink. Surprisingly, it smelled…

“Amazing,” Izuku decided as he let out the breath and drank it in again.

In the distance, lightning struck, but it was impossible to tell if it was one kilometer away or twenty. The whole world was gray, with thicker sheets in the distance being proof of real downpours and doing absolutely nothing for Katsuki’s depth perception. It must have been pretty far, though, because it was a few seconds before thunder rumbled through the valley, knocking against the mountains and booming back down like the gods stomping their feet.

“The atmosphere is so thick,” Izuku murmured as Katsuki nearly choked on the petrichor. “There’s so much energy.”

Aside from the smell—which here was so earthy and rich, while in Japan it smelled mostly of steam evaporating from concrete sidewalks and roads—the storm did have a different feeling too. Perhaps it was because Katsuki could see the whole thing for as far as the storm stretched, or maybe because it changed the atmosphere of the desert more than it ever would a humid island. But Izuku was right. The only thing that had ever felt similar was being close to Izuku while One For All charged across his skin, thickening the air with something potent, something powerful.

“It feels like…” Izuku started, looking up the way they’d come, the tip of the mountain they’d just been climbing now having been consumed by clouds, “It feels like something could happen. Anything could happen.”

The storm cleared off before there were even puddles on the ground. The rain on the sidewalk was already evaporating, making the world smell even more like ozone and opportunity.

And it didn’t go away, even when the sidewalk was dry again and they’d gone inside to get changed. The feeling still lingered.

Anything could happen.

#anjum writes #bkdk #bakudeku #dkbk #dekubaku #ktdk #katsudeku #bkdkbk #bakudekubaku #dkbkdk #dekubakudeku

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justcallmeanobsessor · 2 years ago

Text

-An unexpected obsession-

This is just a dabble of something that I may or may not extend on.

Trigger Warning: implied abuse, start of obsessive behavior, a bit yandere

All I can remember was that I was running, running as fast as I could, to get away from them. I can still feel the way my lungs burned as I struggled to get a breath in through the heavy rain and my quickening movements. My knees starting to give out from exhaustion but the memory of their faces taunting my every move, dragging me back to that hell they called home, It kept me moving forward knowing the pain I would receive if I stopped would be so much worse than the what I feel in my tired legs.

The day had started out like any other would in the midst of spring, gloomy, with gray clouds stretching out for miles like an endless sea of water, blocking out the rays of glistening sunlight, leading me to be more weary than I already have been for the past few weeks. It was raining harder than ever, as I rapidly moved my heaving legs to the bus stop a few blocks away from where I came from. The water from the puddles soaked through my shoes numbing my toes with its frigid temperatures, my hair stuck to my face obstructing my view, along with my already drowsy state pulling down my eyelids like shutters to a window, I guess that's what led me to this situation.

I could barely see past my soaked hair and the downpour of rain, that when someone else appeared in front of me I was too slow to stop from crashing into their back with such a force that I immediately bounced back with a groan, falling with the impact of it. Even though I was falling I did not hit the ground, I then realized the said person caught me by my sleeve like it was nothing, as if I was but a mere weight of a feather compared to their strength that they held me with, but yet their hold on me was as gentle as you would hold a flower petal.

She was gorgeous, like nothing i've seen before, her hair was dark red and cut into a short wavy bob that framed her face perfectly, she was tall and regal like a goddess of sorts, and held herself with such confidence and an air of calmness that I immediately felt at ease and admired her for everything she was though I new she was someone I could never even begin to compare to.

“Are you ok darling?” She spoke with such ease it made me swoon more than I already was. Darling, she called ME darling. That is all I could think of, such a loving word usually reserved for those you care for and here she is calling me, a stranger with no real interesting aspects, darling.

“Uh, yes i'm alright, thank you for catching me” I flashed an awkward smile at her while inside I hoped she would stay or give me her name so that I just might have a chance of finding her again and maybe just a little for the sake of knowing such a perfect person by name. Honestly, I wouldn't really have the confidence to talk to her. Especially when it seems so easy for her while I struggle to even say ‘hi’, though deep down I fantasize about how effortless a conversation with this angle might be, if only I could say something more.

In return she smiled back with closed lips, with her smile reaching every part of her face in a bright glow, wrinkling the corner of her eyes, emerald gems that shone with an emotion I could not uncover but it was not sad or happy but almost curious. But that is absurd, there is no reason for her to be feeling those things, to be interested in such a heinous person as me.

After our small exchange of grins we parted our ways with a kind goodbye and a wave of our hands, no exchange of names or ways to contact the other again but maybe just maybe this might not be the last time we meet.

#yandere #thriller #obsession #obsessive love #dark past #short story #yandere post #yandere x oc #divider by cafekitsune

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kandadiff · 1 year ago

Text

A Taste of Venom: Mia & Dahlia

Violet and Clara made there way over to Amusement Mile, a stretch of land that housed the largest dock in the city as well as the headquarters of the Joker's playhouse. Amusement mile seemed to always be in a perpetual dense fog that rose from the murky water of the bay with a constant chill in the air. Violet shivered slightly and she ordered Clara to stop the car.

"We have to park here." Violet said simply digging in your memory for the confusing labyrinth that was the playhouse. Clara nodded switching off the car lights and parking behind empty shipping containers.

"What do we do next?"

"We?" Violet shook her head and loaded the gun in the hip holster. "There is no 'we'. Just me."

"Oh come on" Clara frowned watching her zip up the dark jacket to blend in with the night. "You need me! I can track electronics and I bet whoever your looking for has a phone! I can help you!" Violet sighed thinking a bit, even with your memories of the playhouse, there was obvious thing about it you didn't remember or didn't know. In fact, she wasn't even sure the fastest way to get there from here. Clara was right, but she hated to admit it. Violet gave a small nod and Clara clapped pulling out what looked like an old Nokia phone with a thick silver case. "Do you know his number?"

Violet nodded, she went through my phone when I was busy with Lucifer the other night and copied down the appropriate numbers on a piece of paper before I could notice. Violet gave it to her and the phone in her hand beeped a few times before signaling to an area not to far away towards the town. "He's not here."

"No, it looks like hes in Rosevelt."

Violet's eyebrows furrowed. Rosevelt was a nice neighborhood, in the more posh side of town under the protection of The Saviors. Was Robin meeting up with Negan? Why? To ask for help? Or declare war? She found herself fantasying about the scene. Robin angry and feral leaning over the table, unafraid of the monster that was Negan, because Robin was a monster himself.

"do you want to go?" Clara asked pulling the quiet girl out of her thoughts. Violet nodded and Clara gave her the phone. "Give me directions."

The townhouse they pulled up too was beautiful and right next to a park. There was a simple, older truck in the driveway that did not match with the more expensive exterior of the bricked apartment. At first, Violet thought it was Robin's car until she saw a sleek black sports car just on the other side of the truck. "He's in there." Clara whispered as though he could here here from the privacy of the car. "Is this the same boy from the meeting? Joker's son?" Clara smiled. "the cute open I mean, not the red head."

Violet looked from the mysterious townhouse to Clara, her lips turning into a barely visible smirk. "Keep the car running, Clara." She said her eyes scanning over the house, finding what she was looking for. An open window on the third floor, that was her access point. She looked at the trellis on the side of the house and smiled before leaving the car.

The trellis proved sturdy, and she thanked the city for placing the streetlight on the other side of the townhouse, coating her in darkness and making her entrance into the house easy. She squeezed herself through the window, finding herself in what looked like a bedroom. She looked around and her eyes narrowed analyzing the contents. On the nightstand was a collection of books and an empty baby bottle. Light blue sheets covered the bed and a damp towel was thrown onto the bed. Violet moved as quietly as possible hearing muffled voices coming from downstairs and moved towards the closet. She was confused. Women's clothing hung from most of the racks with a thin margin holding mens clothes and the cologne that still lingered on them suggested it was indeed Robin's.

She moved towards the door opening it as slowly as possible to avoid being caught here until she was ready. The once muffled voices were clearer and she could tell they were coming from the first floor of the townhouse. She heard Robin speak and, while she hated that her body did this, it reacted to the sound of his voice. And she slowly followed the sound down the stairs.

"Lucifer, he knows more then he lets on. And J doesn't care." She heard him rant as she neared the bottom of the stairs. The hallway she was in was unlit and she moved towards the wall, opening a nearby closet incase she had to hid quickly. She stayed by the wall inching her way closer to his voice. "He has his sons, he has his heirs and he never forgave her for leaving to be with Negan."

"I thought them being together was supposed to unite the playhouse and the saviors." Violet eyes furrowed at the voice. She didn't know it at all. "I thought thats why he allowed it."

"No one allows her to do anything." He laughed as violet crouched peering into the room they were in. It was a living room, a fireplace warming and lighting the area while Robin stood by poking the firewood with a fire poker and a girl she didn't know sitting on the couch with a glass of wine on her hand. "You know her, she just does things." The girl nods with a smile and takes a sip of his wine. "He always held that against her."

"You know, I always tell you the truth," The girl said with a small smile "But what if she just left? Maybe she didn't say goodbye because she saw an opportunity and took it. What if shes trying to get in contact with you but can't because she doesn't know how." Robin eyes stayed on the fire as he mulled it over. "Obviously, if Simon did anything to her we will find her, but there has been no hits about her or the other girls on any part of the web."

"Thank you for looking." He said still staring into the fire.

"Of course."

There was a silence that hung in the room like a heavy blanket until Robin signed turning towards her. She gave him a small smile and he sat next to her.

"Mia," He sighed and looked at her. His face softened a bit when he saw her "You know why I was made...into this?" He motioned to himself and Mia nodded. "I have to protect her; like she protected me. and if she is gone, if simon did do that.. then I failed. I failed with Arianna, I failed with Harley and I failed with her." Mia placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and he relaxed a bit.

"You didn't fail me." She said softly. "You took me away from Mike. You were the only person to do that. To stick up for me. You didn't fail them because something happened to them because your trying to help them and thats what counts."

He smiled at her "Thats why I moved you out here. I didn't want J to find out about you or Dahlia." Violet tried to wrack your brain for this stranger and someone named Dahlia but she came up empty. "Here is savior territory. Kay made sure that this townhouse would always be protected just because I asked her to. She was even protecting me there and now..." it was clear this was all weighing heavily on him and he buried his face in his hands. Mia threw her arms around her and hugged him tightly. He let her but did not return the hug. "Some days, I don't know I just wonder if this is all worth it. You know the week before she disappeared, she told Negan that she wouldn't have his child, he supposedly locked her in a room until she changed her mind."

Mia looked at him horrified. "and I thought my ex was fucked up." she shivered despite the fire. "Maybe thats why she left."

Robin shrugged. "Maybe she didn't want her child to follow this path. I know I don't." he turned towards her. "you know you don't have to stay here. you can take dahlia and leave. I'll give you any money you need-"

"I told you, your my best friend. I'm not leaving you and Dahlia needs you in her life."

His face was irritated as though they had this conversation plenty of times and he sighed when she did not relent. "I have a feeling this will be a war" he admitted "and if int gets to that point, then Mia." his voice was grave and serious. "You get the money in that safe and you run fast and far with Dahlia. I will not have you here when it all goes to hell. Promise me." he demanded

Mia nodded and she looked into the fire placing her head on his shoulder. "I promise." Violet narrowed her eyes at the interaction. it was intimate of course but she didn't think they were a couple. They had yet to kiss and she was no more friendly to him then I was. She thought of the best friend comment and found herself feeling the green eyed monster of jealousy creeping up her spine. The pair sat in silence ruminating over their words. Violet looked around trying to figure out how to get Robin's attention when a noise came from a room behind her and she sucked in a breath.

It was a coo, a small babble from a baby from a room down the hallway. "I think shes up." Violet alarmed snuck into the closet she previously opened and closed it behind her, leaving just a sliver of the door opened so she could see.

"Let me, get her." she heard Robin say but she heard Mia say that she got it. she saw the taller girl pass her and click on the light to a room down the hallway. When Mia walk past her again and settle back into the living room, Violet snuck out of the closet and resumed her spot in the hall to see what was going on in the living room.

Her eyes widened when she saw just who Dahlia was. In his large arms was a little baby girl. She was less then a year old, maybe 8 or 9 months and she giggled in his arms as he held her tight to him. Mia smiled at the interaction and Robin moved a piece of the baby's hair from her face. "Hey sweetie," his voice was soft and full of affection. Violet attempted to look at the the baby to see if there were similarities between her and the man holding her but her face was turned away. "I missed you." he sat down with her on the couch playing with the stuffed bear that she was holding in her chubby hand. Mia smiled turning on the tv switching between watching him with the baby and watching some rerun of friends on the screen. Robins eyes never left the little girl though and violet smiled seeing a softer side of the monster everyone claimed he was.

The phone in her pocket buzzed and she retreated to the closet to see it. It was Clara. 'Did you find him? Is he in there?'

0 notes

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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treesah · 2 years ago

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After TWELVE HOURS on the road and another hour settling in to our hotel room, I am finally sleeping at 3:40 am, a mere 13 miles into Pennsylvania on I-80 Eastbound, because three-year-olds simply cannot control their water intake or hold their bladder the way adults can and take forever to eat anything. If I had driven twelve hours through the night, without the big traffic jam getting out of Chicago and with the three-year-old sleeping deeply in his car seat, I’d already be in the Philadelphia suburb where my parents live by now.

I relate so much to my dad, who used to set an absolutely punishing pace on road trips when I was a kid. (He drove 50,000 miles last year for work trips and trips to re-run his favorite marathons. If anything, the pace has only gotten more relentless as he’s aged.) We made the drive from Stillwater, Oklahoma to Disney World in Orlando, Florida in 28 hours in 1997. Barely any stops, definitely didn’t stay anywhere overnight, and this was before energy drinks were really a thing. My dad drove us straight through more than 1300 miles on barely any sleep through sheer willpower, aided only by gas station coffee and compulsive consumption of family-size bags of plain Tostitos corn chips. I’m not even half as intense but I totally understand that drive to Make Good Time now as an adult.

Of course, I also remember how unpleasant it was to be a child and passenger on that road trip, so here I am, stopping for entire hours at mealtimes and up to twenty minutes for bathroom breaks in between, and shelling out $140 for a mere seven hours of respite, fully reclined in a real bed, until 11 am checkout. Stopping at the literal side of the highway to squat and pee into the grass as cars whizzed by, eating lukewarm leftovers in a moving car while being yelled at not to get crumbs anywhere, and sleeping in awkward positions in the car for long stretches of time was so miserable! And also kind of unnecessary once my parents quit academia and started making Big Pharma money!

But goddamn did my dad always Make Good Time

Roadtripping in the daytime is absolutely unbearable and I am never doing it again. If I were driving overnight like I usually do, I’d be dehydrated (rationing water to minimize bathroom breaks) and twitchy (from the 5 Hour Energy shots and extra Adderall doses), but I’d already be in Ohio instead of stuck at the Knute Rockne Travel Plaza barely 50 miles into Indiana, waiting forever for my son to finish eating his soft pretzel.

Between it taking twice as long as it does at night to get onto the Chicago Skyway (toll bridge onto the Indiana Toll Road) and my son being awake and needing to pee, eat, and move around at 70-mile intervals, I am making terrible time and I’m mad about it.

#personal #travel

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

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— “PANTY THIEF + BAKUGOU.”

author’s note(s): inspired by this fanart and everyone being horny on THE DASH !! dedicated to @honeykeigo n @lady-bakuhoe for enabling my horny behaviour ok ok. also this turned out longer than i expected so ,,, have fun?

warning(s): mdni, 18+, smut, dubcon, mentions of drinking, uhh sniffed and stolen panties, slight!exhibitionism, power play dynamics, fingering, pussy slaps uwu, fem!reader + pro hero!bakugou.

“y-you uh, you don’t haf’ta do this mishta—?“

“dynamight.”

“r-right, dy-ma-might!”

katsuki had rolled his eyes the first time you spoke to him, a sweet, darling little girl too drunk on whatever shitty alcohol you’d been served at the bar on friday night. you obviously didn’t drink much, maybe even drunk too much— the hero would tell by the way your eyes crossed with your legs as you walked and the fact that you couldn’t remember the right way to spell your own name and it was clear your friends were a bunch of assholes for abandoning their shit faced friend to find her own way home.

he hated, this part of the job but he’d have felt bad if the guy following you home had done something bad to you and besides— the way you pressed yourself to the explosive hero, breasts spilling out of your tight black dress, thick and juicy thighs exposed to the fresh night air makes the whole ordeal worth it. oh you’re so cute, got katsuki’s cock stirring in his pants— his baggy hero costume suddenly becoming way too fucking tight for his liking. you’ll pay him back, he knows that you will, all of his fans do in some way or another.

you’ll be special though, if the smell of your saccharine cunt is anything to go by. slick dripping down your shaky thighs while he guides you down the empty street, and of course you’d be attracted to him. bakugou will have to indulge in you; his reward for being such a gentleman, for being your hero. “this ish me,” you squeak when the pair of you arrive at the door to your apartment complex. your words are smooshed together by your own drunken haze while you unlock the door to let yourself in.

how rude of you, forgetting all about dynamight who’d basically saved your life tonight. without much of a fight, bakugou pushes you against the door, effectively keeping it closed, his eyes cloud over— a storm thick with lust as you look up at him so innocently he could break. “not gonna invite me up, sweet stuff?” he coos, amused at the shiver that runs laps down the base of your spine. your thighs jump apart only just, giving the hero an opportunity to shove his hand up your dress to cup your sweet little cunt.

“i— i didn’t know—“ your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, confusion etched so prettily across your face it makes bakugou want to bend you over and fill your hole to the brim. he’d save that for later though. “didn’t think you’d want to—“

the blonde growls, thick fingers easily finding your panties under that short dress of yours. the black lace is soaked to the bone, a sticky mess spreading across the digits that now pinch at your puffy clit. you jump and bakugou growls hungrily. “s’awfully rude don’cha think, sweet stuff? that’s okay though, i think you can reward me right fuckin’ here, don’chu?” a toothy smirk tugs at the hero’s lips when you dumbly nod in agreement, your body trembling from a mix of cold, neediness and excitement. “atta girl, spread those needy fuckin’ thighs for me then.”

you seem to have sobered up quickly, listening well for the hero that saved you and part your meaty thighs to let bakugou push your panties to the side and give him more access to your runny cunny. “p-please dynamight, d-do somethin,” comes your whiney voice as he lowers his to get a better view of your spread your pussy lips; he watches as your hole oozes just for him, desperate to filled and fucked. it’s too early for his cock, he needs to give you a taste of something else before you get drunk on him.

without warning, he pushes two of his expert fingers past your puckering entrance, immediately curling them in a come hither motion as his heated red eyes flicker up to watch your face. your ruby painted lips hang open in a silent moan while your fingers dig into bakugou’s shoulders so hard your nails form tears in his hero suit. “fuckin’ look atcha baby, barely even touched ya ‘n you’re already suckin’ down my fingers so greedily.” he snarls, sharp teeth coming down on your barley clothed breast.

bakugou’s thumb massages rough circles into your clit, pulling more honeyed cries from your lips as your eyes screw shut. “f-fuck, dynamight, need more of your touch, ‘m begging you please!” is all you can say, mindlessly babbling as you fail to keep yourself up right. the explosive pro hero steadies you with an arm wrapped around your waist, fingers curling again to explore more of your velvet walls.

“it’s katsuki, to you,” he barks out, using the arm around your waist to smack your sloppy cunt, the wet sound echoing across the street. “needy little thing, beggin’ me like this, who am i to deny your wishes?” bakugou grins, mercilessly scissoring his digits into your tight heat to stretch you wide open for him. he can’t believe his luck, the way you’re so pliant and responsive to him and him alone.

it’s too soon for him to be this addicted to your cute moans filling the crisp air but he can’t help himself, not when you clamp around his scarred fingers with every pump of them into your silken heat. not with the way your own fingers now curl in sun kissed blonde hair— pulling the hero upwards to suck on his bottom lip, followed by his tongue.

you cry out, the most beautiful sound katsuki’s every heard in all twenty years of living when his fingers press down hard on that gummy pleasure spot inside you, and like the good girl you are for him, you keep your shaky thighs open for him. “you’re such a good fuckin’ doll, letting me finger you out in the open like this, anyone could see us but you wouldn’t care, not when you’re creamin’ your panties for dynamight, right sweet thing?” bakugou’s lewd words go straight to your cunt, entangled with the squelching noises as he moves within you.

“yes! yes! wouldn’t care, don’ care...j-jus wanna cum for you, s-suki—fuck, please—“ you mewl into the night, doe eyes shimmering with tears as the knot in your lower tummy gets tighter and tighter until you can’t bare it anymore.

bakugou grins, curling his fingers once more to send you hurtling off of the edge. he can’t stop thinking about how soaked your little lace panties must be, about all the things he’s going to do with them once he gets them off of you.

“cum.” your pussy follows his orders for you, white flashing behind your eyes as a scream rips in your throat and shoots out into the quiet night. the knot in your stomach snaps, release splashing out against bakugou’s hand and hero suit— he makes you cum so hard you almost black out, a twitching mess in the hero’s arms.

when you finally come to, bakugou’s slurping your nectar off of his fingers, head cocked to the side as you shakily look up at him. “i, uh...t-thank you!” you breathe, blinking away the buzzing noise in the back of your head. “for...uh...”

you’re so cute, flushed with heat and slick dripping from between your legs. you obviously think that was a one time thing, but bakugou hasn’t finished cashing in his reward. the hero shakes his head, using a thumb and forefinger to tilt your own up to meet his ruby gaze. “give me your phone and take off your panties.” he orders, voice authoritative and never wavering— you’re confused, but don’t question him, just as a good girl should.

rooting around in your now discarded purse, you pull out and unlock your going for katsuki, who busies himself with your contacts. embarrassment crawls up your spine when you reach for your underwear, still wet with your arousal and release, you look to bakugou hesitantly. “do i have to—?”

“off.” he grunts, barely looking up from your device as you shimmy out of the lace garment and hand it to him. bakugou gives you the same evil smirk from earlier while you collect yourself against the door, sniffing the flimsily, wet material before shoving them into the pocket of his pants. his cock is hard as a fucking rock, but he’ll be able to deal with it appropriately after his patrol. “i’ll be keeping these. this is where we say g’night sweet stuff.”

the way you curl in on yourself, perhaps a bit humiliated at the idea of your panties being taken by the number two pro hero is adorable, and if he didn’t have patrol, katsuki would have eaten you up right then and there. “goodnight dynamight— i mean, k-katsuki, thank you for everything and h-have a safe night.” you squeak out quickly, moving to open the door again.

“not a problem, honey,” bakugou whispers with a lowered voice, pulling you in to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, shoving his tongue down your throat in a kiss goodnight. “now get your cute ass upstairs, don’ want anyone to see your leaky cunt like this. that’s fuckin’ mine.”

you do as you’re told, bidding the hero one last farewell before dashing up the steps and into your apartment. your heart and mind race a thousand miles a minute, crazed with the fact that you had just been fingered to the best fucking orgasm of your life by the number two pro hero. you have to force yourself to shower, mapping out all of the spots that bakugou had touched you and growing giddy at the small burn marks he’d left against the inner workings of your thighs.

that night, or rather, early morning— you settle into the sheets, mind still plagued with thoughts of katsuki bakugou, when your phone pings with a text.

to: yn.

from: unknown.

— never got your name sweet stuff, care to tell me who’s name i’ll be moaning tonight?

( one attachment ).

your heartbeat thunders in your ears, familiar warm pooling between your legs yet again as you open the image— knowing that there can be only one person that it’s from. a quiet moan slips past your lips as the picture loads to reveal bakugou in your very same black lace panties from earlier— the slick from your release pressed up against his barely covered cock, while he jerks himself off, precum oozing from his blistering red tip.

you exhale, typing back your name and hitting send— thanking whatever higher power that lead katsuki bakugou to steal your fucking panties.

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bangtangalicious · 4 years ago

Text

death valley (m) | part 8

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: jin x reader, jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.0k

warnings: reader discretion advised. rough sex, physical roughness, sadism kink, pain kink, breast play, fingering, elevator sex (semipublic), praise kink, dirty talk, unrealistic endurance (this is one day LMAO), attempted fire play, bondage, guns, attempted shootings, knife play if you squint, spanking, degradation (name calling, slut shaming, being really mean lolol thanks jin), crying kink? lot of crying, toxic and manipulative behaviors, jin steps on you so there’s that, character death, heavy drug use, paranoia/fear, voyeurism, sex while intoxicated, me trying to put some humor where i can, sweet dom!jungkook, wild dom!jin, and a sprinkle of dom!taehyung ;) ALSO eyebrowpiercing!jungkook. very important.

a/n: s/o soowoozoo!bts for being my inspo.

F L A S H F O R W A R D--

Goosebumps spread across your skin as the silence set in. The room was chilly, air conditioner buzzing in contrast to the slick humidity of the summer night waiting for you outside. The white light made your eyes ache, the walls were plain, dry, empty.

You stared blankly at the table in front of you. The sound of the pen scratching paper made you ache, remembering kinder days when you and Hobi would be goofing around and writing songs. How did you get here? How did you let this happen?

The previous night, you had dreamt of being at a concert, somewhere far from Death Valley. Losing yourself to music and molly, a soft pair of hands on your hips as you danced the night away, singing at the top of your lungs. Those same hands wrapping around your waist, nose tracing behind your ear to whisper to you how pretty you were. How hot you looked and how badly he wanted to tear your clothes off with his teeth.

You allowing him to pick you up so easily, take you back to his car where you scrambled into the back seat. Like children. The first kiss was magic, you were glued to him and could barely move on. He wouldn’t leave you for a second, he wouldn’t let you breathe. Your lips were hot on each other, soft moans and giggles. Swallowed smiles as you drank one another in, bodies like waves crashing against each other.

Hands wandering until he had you where he wanted. Where you wanted. He loved you down so incredibly good. How he was able to tear you apart while still being so sweet, you could barely even fathom. His teeth dug into the flesh of your breasts, fingers hooking around your panties.

His tongue ravished your figure. There was no part of you left untouched, no part of you that wasn’t completely ablaze with arousal. You would arch your neck back as he lapped away at the sweetness dripping between your legs, your hands combing through his wavy black hair.

His tongue knew where to go, he knew how you liked it, and your fist clenched as he fucked you with his mouth through and through. He always made sure you came first. Always. Every single time.

Whether you had mere minutes or long hours, he loved the way you tasted, making sure you knew that at every chance he got. Sloppy wet kisses traveled up your stomach to your chest, up your neck, hands caressing your ass, scratching your back, holding you close for a moment.

You were whisked away into heaven, just briefly, as his thick cock would push into you. Your pussy pulling him in, wanting to feel the familiar but oh so incredible stretch that only he gave you.

Taehyung. You sobbed as he fucked you, allowing him to kiss the glossy tears off of your cheeks as he rolled his hips, angling so perfectly to nudge deep within you. His sinister grin, his giggles, his chaos. You were in the hands of disaster but you never felt more safe.

Why are you crying dumbass? He would find your state amusing, continuing to fuck you, thrusts long and smooth. Quick, but slow enough for you to savor each second. Your whining lost behind the wet sound of your bodies colliding.

Where are you? Are you watching this right now? You’re not really dead are you?

Stroking your cheek, he leaned down to whisper against your mouth. The words he would keep on saying, echoing back to you. Play along. I won’t hurt you.

What exactly you were playing, you were unsure.

“Look at me” Your eyes darted up to meet Jin’s deceivingly innocent eyes. “I’m gonna ask you again, did you kill Kim Taehyung?”

You gulped, sweat collecting onto the cold handcuffs around your wrists. Jin glanced at the mirrored wall, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“It appears that Kim Taehyung was murdered about two hours before the party. We found your gun near the body.” Jin holds up the custom weapon Yoongi had given that was unmistakably yours. “Where were you at that time?” You felt your eyes getting heavy.

“I was” You lips were chapped, mouth clammy with a bitter taste. You looked him dead in the eye, stomach sickened by the amusement glistening within them as you struggled with your response. You knew he was getting a kick out of it. You wanted to spit on his face. You wanted to slap him, to scream, to flip the table and break out of the windowless room that caged you.

“I was with...y..” Jin smirked, leaning back. You cleared your throat, mind running a mile a minute.

“With who Y/n?”

You glared at him. He was treating this as some sort of role play. You felt queasy at the thought. Someone was dead. Dead.

“You. I was with you”

F L A S H B A C K--

The morning rays slid through the expansive glass wall of the hotel room, causing Yoongi’s eyes to flinch, squinting as they opened and took in the day that presented itself. He sighed heavily, the weight of the previous night still on his mind. You were still asleep, but he could see through the chaffing beneath your wrists that you were not comfortable. He took the leash and fastened it to the headboard, ensuring you had no escape.

Grabbing his keys, Yoongi quickly got dressed in a white hoodie and left the room. He needed to find out the truth for himself. He couldn’t afford to have you lying to him already.

It was so frustrating to him that you couldn’t just be honest with him. He had been immensely open with you even if he was not proud of what he had to share. Why would you hide things? Hadn’t he proven himself to you? Hadn’t he done everything to win your heart?

Yoongi sighed. His anger issues were core to his being. It was part of his true self, but he had spent years trying to become someone you would fall in love with. All he wanted to do was make home in your heart, but no matter how many of your suitors he ended up threatening, beating to a pulp, and forcing them to bail on you, there was nothing in his power that could tear down that goddamn Park Jimin poster on your bedroom wall.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from writing small fantasies in your journal that you kept stashed in your bedside drawer.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t come close to killing Jimin multiple times before. But he realized that would not have delivered him a solution. If Jimin died, you would mourn. You would still harbor that love for him and never have an opportunity to see what he really was. It was because of this Yoongi, with Taehyung’s helpful insight, had orchestrated a way to destroy Jimin in your eyes.

Jimin was then introduced to Yoongi’s two weapons of destruction, Taehyung and cocaine. Yoongi worked hard to build himself up as a successful music producer. He had to be better than Jimin, had to make sure he could offer you everything Jimin could and more.

To his surprise, you did move on from Jimin, at least the reality of him. But this fantasy of who he used to be remained pinned to your heart. After Jimin quit music, the mention of his name would still cause you to blush and smile. It made Yoongi want to throw up.

You had to see for yourself. Yoongi learned what it was that attracted you to Jimin and embodied just that. You liked that you had to chase him, you liked that he didn’t give a shit about you. You liked that he never noticed you and you had to pine for his attention. You liked that he was dedicated to his music, you liked the lifestyle he was associated with. You liked his lack of emotion and fantasized of him showing his true colors to you and only you, a sensitive, sweet, charming guy. Anger was not a part of this persona at all.

When he felt like he had driven Jimin crazy enough with the drugs, he decided to plant rumors on stan twitter that Jimin would be signing with his label. Using his personal relationship with the singer, he was able to sign him on. He conveniently then offered you a summer internship, knowing full well you would be coming for one reason alone. Park Jimin.

Yoongi wanted you to fall straight into his arms. He rented out every available apartment for the months you were searching for a place to live, forcing you to reside in his building. He wanted to win you over naturally. He wanted you to work with Jimin, hook up with Jimin, and end up loathing him. Loving Yoongi instead.

Jimin’s gang activity was getting on Yoongi’s nerves. Taehyung told him Jimin was in Death Valley, that you saw Jimin at Death Valley. When Yoongi heard from you, not Taehyung, that you had been kidnapped, along with Namjoon nonetheless, Yoongi had enough. He was used to giving Taehyung plenty of unsupervised jurisdiction, so Jimin’s accident was not a surprise to him.

But you sympathized with Jimin, which was not what he wanted. He then decided to take things into his own hands, threatening Seokjin into throwing the fight to leech Jimin of every cent he had. He broke into your apartment, fucking everything up so that you had no choice but to come to him. To need him.

And when Jin didn’t lose, he had no choice but to reveal to you who he was. Even after all his honestly, all his trust, you still lied to him.

Yoongi was furious. He arrived at Death Valley, using the front entrance. Pulling a mask over his face, he barged in, surveying the silence as a sign that the bar was empty. Through the kitchen he arrive at the back storage room, accessible only by key, where all of the surveillance had been set up years ago.

Monitors were spread across the wall, but Yoongi’s eyes narrowed in at one that was coming up with no feed. Your apartment. Someone had fucked with the cameras. Yoongi types away at the main monitor, enlarging your apartment footage and reeling back to find the moment the device was destroyed.

He sees Taehyung, whispering something to you. Next thing he knows the stream is blank. He grits his teeth, as all the pieces fall into place. He was a fool. How could he have been so blind? Taehyung must be in love with you. He must have, after watching you for so many years. Yoongi scowled at the thought of the ways Taehyung may have seen you, naked, vulnerable, ways that only he should.

He had trusted Taehyung. Taehyung had only ever shown interest in money and Yoongi thought that was enough. Taehyung must have fucked you over and over again once the cameras were dead. What a whore. It made sense then that he had cut the line through his branding on you. He was the only one who could have. He had access to you and he was psychotic! He must have forced you to lie. You wouldn’t ever hide anything from Yoongi, no, Yoongi was the man of your dreams. You felt grateful that you had him, didn’t you?

He tilted his head, cracking his knuckles before he punched the glass screen, causing the feed to go haywire and sparks to erupt. Kim Taehyung. You are dead to me.

Yoongi growled lowly before picking up his phone. “It’s me. I need to see you. Now”

Hobi kept his hand on the small of your back as he led you down to the hotel bar. The two of you nodded politely at the staff members who were busily preparing for the big event. The bar was empty aside for a few guests enjoying their brunch-time mimosas.

Hobi couldn’t really revel in the fact that the two of you were getting drinks together, almost like a date. His mind was too caught up in the initial shock he felt when he saw you tied up in his boss’ bedroom. He felt upset, but moreso he felt violated. He wondered if you were getting taken advantage of. Did he promise you a promotion? Was he manipulating you?

Punishing someone like that, Hobi was never one to kink shame, but it seemed a bit much. The name burned into your skin did nothing to ease his concern. Someone who was possessive, violent, impulsive. It reminded him of...

Hobi didn’t know. He didn’t know who gave him orders. He really didn’t care once the cash rolled in, but it began hitting too close to home. He wasn’t thrilled about hurting Namjoon, but two duffel bags of cash were enough for him to momentarily set aside his morals.

“What should I get?” You surveyed the small menu of cocktails. “What’s gonna fuck me up the fastest?”

Hobi snorted, “Tequila” He twirled your hair as your gaze remained glued to the menu. The thought of you being in danger upset him greatly “Y/n...when did Yoongi brand you?" You called the bartender ordering a line of shots to which the they glanced at the clock before giving you a weird look.

“The night of the rematch” You told him, reacting before you realized what you had said. Your lip tucked between your teeth as you tried to conjure an excuse. A row of shot glasses was placed in front of you. You took one, gulping it down before letting out a heavy sigh. The bitterness burned down your throat. You basked as the liquid hit your mind, easing you slightly.

“Yoongi was at the fight?” Hobi recalled the wild night that the three of you had been at Death Valley. It was the first time he ever saw the man giving him orders. The man was tall, broad, had dark hair and wore dark clothes, face covered in a mask. Could it have been...Yoongi?

“Y/n!” The two of you turned to see Jungkook approaching the bar. He had changed his hair, the blue swapped for a short black cut, and you couldn’t help but double take at his new eyebrow piercing.

You downed another shot, glancing at Hobi who had raised his eyebrows seeing the drug dealer. Jungkook gave you a light hug, waving timidly to Hobi. You smirked, another shot down the hatch. “Easyyyy Y/n” He placed a hand on your back as he slid into the seat next to you.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Hobi sneered. Jungkook rolled his eyes, used to the condescending treatment of gang members. "Didn’t you get stabbed or something?”

“I did!” Jungkook grinned, “In fact, that’s exactly why I’m here. I think I figured out who Mr. Bossman is, and I wanna fucking kill him”

Hobi rolled his eyes, “Oh really”

“Kim Seok-motherfucking-Jin baby. He stabbed me. He’s the one who showed up and threatened me to move out of Y/n’s apartment, so he’s probably also the one who called for the kidnapping. And he might have called for Jimin’s accident. It makes so much fucking sense”

Jin did what? There was not enough alcohol in your veins to act like you didn’t fully understand what he had just said. Jin had Jungkook move out? It wasn’t impossible. And that’s what scared you. You blinked at Jungkook incredulously, “But he’s literally a police officer”

Jungkook’s grin widened, “Exactly! It’s fucking brilliant. He’s a cop, he fights for the other side. He wins no matter what and can never get caught. No one would ever suspect him. Winning despite being threatened? Who threatened him huh? It’s a fucking ploy. You’re not dead and neither is he I bet. Kingpin. Boom”

You felt sick, knowing that Yoongi was not the only person you needed to be worried about. It was almost funny how blatantly misinformed Jungkook was. “Wow you guys are idiots.” You muttered under your breath, taking another shot before coughing roughly. Should I tell them? Why did Jin lie? Is this even the truth? Jin always tried to pin things on Jungkook, but you defended him. Hearing his words now made your head spin. He’s lying. Jungkook is lying. You wanted to scream, frustration flooding through your veins as you clenched your fists.

“I’m gonna tell Jimin and Taehyung what I know. They will give me so much money dude.” Jungkook chuckled, “And then they’d kill him, oh God finally”

Hobi pursed his lips, mouth feeling dry as he reflected on Jin’s eerie words before he shot him in the leg. He didn’t know where Jin was anymore, handing him off to be taken somewhere. It didn’t make sense. His orders were to seize Jin if Jin won the fight. Why place an order like that all? Why do any of this?

“Y/n, come with me.” Jungkook tugged at the sleeve of the oversized Nirvana shirt you had thrown on after your shower session with Hobi. You giggled, the thought of Taehyung coming into your slowed thoughts like a hurricane, tearing up any understanding you thought you had of the situation. There was only one thing you believed. Only one thing you knew with full certainty and it was all you could hold onto.

“Oh my goodness it’s Yoongi. It’s Yoongi. It’s always been Yoongi” The words spilled from your lips like the tequila that dripped down the side of your lips as you took yet another shot, giggling like a ditz. Jungkook and Hobi exchanged confused looks with each other, only making you laugh more. “I would fucking know okay!” Your laughs grew loud, “I was locked up in his fucking apartment and where the hell were all of you huh? Dumb fucking idiots!” You buckled over, laughing into Jungkook’s chest.

“Jungkook” Hobi sighed, “I gotta get back to work. Can you get her sober please?” Jungkook nodded. He held your waist tightly helping you stand, walking with you carefully to the hotel elevator.

The laughter wouldn’t stop. Passerbys shot the two of you dirty looks as Jungkook pulled you into the elevator easily. Through it’s glass walls you could see the midday skyline, where outside people hustled through life as if everything were normal. Must be fucking nice. “Y/n” Your laughs began to choke in your throat, turning instead to the sobs you tried to suppress with whatever will you had left.

Jungkook placed his soft lips on your shoulder. Hands sliding onto your waist as he peered at you curiously, “Y/n, is everything okay?”

You shook your head, the elevator door closed as tears began forming in your eyes. Your voice croaked, “I’m dead. He’s gonna kill me. T..taehyung is gonna kill me. I...I know he will. He’s everywhere. Everywhere.” You looked around frantically, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the security cameras littered throughout the public space. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone...I” You hiccuped. Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug.

“It’s okay ssh” He stroked his thumbs them across your cheeks, cupping your face affectionately. “I’m here aren’t I?” You sniffled, nodding lightly. “I got you okay. No one is gonna hurt you”

You stared into his kind brown eyes. You did not trust him, your entire body was screaming at you not to trust him. His fingers danced down your figure, freely gliding over your heaving chest, desperately trying to breathe with the fear that choked you from within.

You blinked at him, eyes glancing down at his pouty lips before finding his eyes again. “Y/n” Jungkook whispered, barely inches from your lips. “I won’t let anyone hurt you okay. I promise”

Fat tears rolled down your face at his words. Jungkook clicked his tongue, cooing at you as he continued to wipe away your hears. “Oh you poor thing” He held you to his chest, kissing the top of your head, before tilting your face up to his.

He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips landed on yours, swallowing you into him. The taste of tequila was evident on your lips as he kissed you softly, and you allowed yourself to surrender to his warm touch.

You felt heat pooling in your chest as his fingers trailed up your legs. He traced circles into the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers tease the edge of your shorts.

“Jungkook” You inhaled sharply, his hot breath tickling your neck as you tilted your head back. He licked his lips before sloppily latching onto your collarbone, sucking down to litter your skin with wet kisses as his fingers slid down your shorts, just barely so that he could roll his hips into you.

He pushed you back against the glass, fingers trailing across your bare thighs before sliding beneath your panties. Jungkook ran a finger over your clothed folds, making you clench down.

“Y/n” His voice sounded equally as desperate as yours, barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing. “Fuck I missed you” You gasped as his fingers slid under the fabric. He pushed a finger in, allowing your tight cunt to accustom to it before adding another finger not long after.

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, pushing your bra up so he could run his thumb over your nipples, his touch featherlight, leaving you breathless. You rolled your eyes back in pleasure, bucking your hips up as he slowly pumped you with his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just like that” He whispered, lips pressing into your neck. You let out a shaky moan as his fingers quickened, pumping in and out of you as you latched onto his shoulders. “Look at me. Look right at me baby”

He brought his lips over yours, just brushing them across your skin so he could gaze deep into your eyes as you fucked yourself onto his fingers. You cried out his name as the friction began to overwhelm you. His fingers easing you right where you needed them, pleasure searing through you as he watched your every move.

"So good for me” He pulled his fingers out, doused in your sticky arousal before he placed them into his own mouth. Your eyes widen as he licked of every last bit of you and smiles. “You taste so fucking good baby”

He kisses you again, harsher this time as his hips roll against you. Your fingers grip his hair as he pulls down his sweats, allowing his cock to spring out.

“You want my cock?” He ran his tongue over your lips, tugging at them slightly as he stroked his cock. You could feel his hand moving between your legs. “You want my big cock in your little pussy?”

You gulped, nodding as Jungkook looked down, lining his tip against your folds, pushing in only slightly before meeting your eyes again. “So warm and wet for me, fuck” He pushed in further, groaning as you spread your thighs wider, allowing him to thrust as deep as he could. He stilled briefly, kissing you again “You take me so well baby fuck. So fucking tight for me. My pretty baby” He stroked your face, thumb pushing into your mouth slightly.

“Does it feel good?” He mumbled, pulling out just slightly before rolling his hips back into you. He picked up a rhythm, fucking you deep and slow, hands clawing at your breasts.

“Yeah...feels really good” Your eyes fell shut, enjoying the fulfilling pleasure of his movements. He pulled your shirt up, burying his face between your breasts as he continued to fuck up into you.

“Mmm yeah I bet” He pushed your bra up, allowing his fingers to pinch you nipples. He took one into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the small bud as he began to suckle you, looking up to your face and enjoying your reactions. “You’re so fucking pretty you know that right?” He sucked on your breast harshly before leaving it with a soft kiss and moving onto the other. “So perfect for me”

His thrusts quickened, driving you up the wall as his hands fell to your hips. You burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt your high approaching. “Jungkook...I’m...”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was raspy with lust, “You wanna cum baby? Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, wanna hear you make those pretty little moans when you cum”

You cried out with every thrust as he pushed you over the edge, and you felt your pussy burst with pleasure as you came, the sloppy sounds of your arousal echoing through the small space. Jungkook groaned as the hot liquid covered his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease.

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl, just like that” He gasped, feeling his cock twitch slightly, buried deep in your cunt, “Want me to cum inside you baby?” You nodded, whining slightly, “Yeah? You want it baby? Huh?” Jungkook’s hips thrust furiously at you, and he cupped your face, bringing his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes as he came. “Want my cum? Want me to fill you up baby?”

“Yeah. I want it. Jungkook please,” Your whiny voice was enough to have him spurting through you.

“Holy fuck” Jungkook buckled over, holding you tight as cum shot out of him, filling you up and leaking out onto the floor.

He pulled out of you quickly, pulling up his sweats while you fixed your own clothes. Sweat painted his forehead as he looked at you, panting with a big smile on his cute face.

“I missed that” He confessed, pulling you back into him by the waist. He knelt down and pressed his lips on yours, letting his hands slide to your ass and squeeze them softly.

You heard a familiar ring as the elevator door reached it’s destination. You jumped away from Jungkook, unable to get far as the strong boy’s hold on you remained steady.

"I see stabbing you once didn’t really drive home the message huh Mr. Jeon Jungkook”

You felt goosebumps spread as you heard the sinister tone of Jin’s voice. He stood leaning against the elevator as if he had been waiting for you, twirling his knife around aimlessly between his fingers. “Too bad, I unfortunately can’t kill you yet” He turned to you and winked, “Both of you come with me”

Sweat trickled down from Namjoon’s neck, his eyes glued to the tattered punching bag in front of him. His muscles were still sore, bruises still spattered across his bare chest. He didn’t care. He was sick of feeling helpless. Under the dim lights of the boxing gym, he pushed himself, another hit, more force, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs with every strike.

“Don’t overdo it” Namjoon rolled his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. “Last thing you want is to get injured again” He turned to the sound of loafers echoing across the concrete floor.

“What do you want Yoongi?” Namjoon sneered. The producer smirked slightly, patting the punching bag playfully before pacing around Namjoon.

“I’m gonna kill Taehyung, and I know Jimin is gonna break hell. I need you to protect Y/n for me. Can I trust you, Namjoon?” His voice was stern.

“Man, fuck you Yoongi” Namjoon groaned, “I put my life on the line for you constantly and you still have to fucking ask? Promise me. I want out after this. Promise me a record deal”

Yoongi shrugged, “Okay fine. I’ll sign you. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Yoongi inhaled sharply, “And I swear to God Namjoon if you even think about touching her, you’re dead to me. And I will know if you do.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, lips parted, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah okay. Just get me my fucking record deal”

Yoongi pursed his lips, pulling out his phone and handing it to Namjoon. “Paperwork is ready. You have one job. Don’t fuck up again” Namjoon clenched his fist as Yoongi chuckled in amusement. “I have some business I need to deal with personally. Keep her safe Namjoon, please”

You gagged, a puke-ish feeling clogging your throat as you coughed out. Your head was throbbing with pain as you squinted against the gleaming lights from the chandelier above your head. Glancing around, you realized you were back at Jungkook’s place, large dark wooden floors adding to the ambiance that just screamed rich in your face. The plushness of his large bed evident beneath you.

You get up slightly, peering across the room where you see Jin handing a large duffel bag to Jungkook, whispering something into his ear. Jungkook nods eagerly, shaking Jin’s hand before exiting. He turns back to you, smiling as he realizes you are awake.

“Hey party girl. Recovered from our little day drinking session have we?” Jin chuckled. You scowl, searching around you as your throat desperately demanded water. Jin handed you a glass. “I just got Jungkook caught up, but you and I need to have a little talk”

You exhaled before emptying the entire glass down your throat. “I know everything” You scoffed in spite, “I know everything you did, you fucking maniac”

Jin smiled wide at the term, “I know. Jungkook told me you think I was behind all of the stuff that’s been going on, stabbing him and kidnapping you. I mean,” Jin laughed, a tinge of condescendence in his voice, “You don’t actually believe that do you? Like, seriously how dumb are these guys. At least you’re smart”

You frowned at his tone, unsure of how to respond. Jin raised his eyebrows at your silence before continuing, “Oh come on Y/n. Use that little brain of yours hm? What the hell would I be gaining from all this? It was Taehyung.”

He extended you a hand, helping you out of the bed and pulling you up to stand before him, “What did he tell you huh? That he’s Yoongi’s friend or some shit? Taehyung doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi. And I know you know about him screwing over Jimin. He’s trying to take over both gangs, not just Jimin’s, and he’s been lying to you this whole time.”

The bargaining chip. “What do you mean?” You followed the flat echoes of his footsteps down the hallway into the same office that you had Jimin tied up only a few days ago. You suppressed a smile as you noticed the curtains were still torn.

“He’s distracting Jimin and Yoongi with you. He wants them to get up against each other so that he can sway the gang loyalties towards him by showing that their leaders priorities are off. Look here” Jin motioned towards a laptop on the large desk, playing security footage of what appeared to be Death Valley’s parking lot, where people were loading bags of cash into what could have been Taehyung’s car. “He’s robbing them. And you know what else Y/n? When he’s done with all of this, he’s gonna kill them both.”

No. No way. Betrayal stung you as you process Jin’s words, “You’re just a pawn in his game. You were bait. He just needed to you get Jimin and Yoongi to fight amongst each other. And you let him, didn’t you?” Jin chuckled, patting your cheek. “I know he kept telling you that you could trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt you. It was bullshit Y/n. This man only cares about one thing. Himself”

You thought back to the first night you laid your eyes on him, back when his hair was a faded green, his sweaty tan skin contrasting his dark leather jacket. The look of familiarity in his eyes and the gleam from his diamond studded watch. You were a fool. He strung you along.

“Where is he?” You growled, “I wanna hear it from him. I wanna ask him myself”

“Absolutely. In fact, if you’re up for it, I was wondering if you would be down to do another little mission for me” Jin winked at you. You scowled, folding your arms over your chest, “If we don’t kill him first, he’s planning on killing Yoongi tonight before the party. I know because I got him to let me in on his little coup” Your heart dropped, “You don’t want that do you?”

"No” You blurted.

“So let’s kill him first. Come on, let’s go get you dolled up for this party”

As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice a familiar figure standing at the other end of the hallway.

Namjoon? Your eyes locked with his. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing at Jin and shaking his head. What is he trying to say. Namjoon seemed to have a warning look in his eyes. You simply shrugged at him, before running down the hall to catch up with Jin.

Namjoon exhaled, watching from a window as Jin and you drove off, likely heading to the hotel. Looking at his palm he saw the way his nails left imprints in his skin from how hard he was clenching his fists. Namjoon wasn’t necessarily a fan of Taehyung, but he knew a thing or two about him from Yoongi. Taehyung would never kill people. He was averse to it for some reason, Namjoon always thought it was ironic for him to be a gangster given that quality. Taehyung could torture anyone, threaten anyone, but he didn’t have it in him to take a life.

Which meant that Jin was lying to you. Namjoon never liked Jin. Even aside from all the hits he had taken from the strong man, he always felt something was off about the guy. He feels uneasy about what he had just seen transpire, and decided to go find Yoongi.

“Do you want some coke?” You were in the middle of washing your face when Jin walked in with a bag of powder. “I could use a hit, I don’t know about you”

“Oh hell yes. Thank you” He poured out a line on the bathroom counter using a quarter, watching with a small chuckle as you inhaled the drug, nose pressed against the cool marble. You sighed, wiping your nose and flashing a big grin in the mirror “Damn. I needed that. I didn’t know that you use”

Jin bit back a smirk, “I do.” He poured another line on the same place, this time taking a hit himself. “A lot”

“Oh. Officer Jin is a druggie like the rest of us huh” You teased. Jin poured himself a gin martini, taking a sip, eyes alight with amusement. “Does that turn you on ever? Do you ever have a hottie cuffed up and they’re like please Officer does that..you know..turn you on?”

Jin’s eyes widened at you “Not any hottie, no. Now if I had you cuffed up saying that” He chuckled, pulling you to him by the waist “That’s a whole other story” You pushed him away playfully.

“What?” Jin said mockingly, “Don’t remember that night where I gave you the best orgasm of your life?” His traced his lips up your jaw, and you could feel his smile against you.

“Wow. Cocky are we?” You raised your eyebrows. “I’ve had some pretty good sex in my life. Hard to say if that was the best”

Suddenly, Jin pulled his knife from his back pocket, glancing in the mirror as he traced the blade across your neck just enough for you to feel the sharp cold metal glide on your skin, pinching without actually making you bleed. “Don’t even lie. You loved fucking me. Don’t you remember? How fucking wet you were?” His breath was hot against your lips, but it was the look in his eyes that had you weak in the knees.

Taking his knife, he slit clean down your shirt, tearing it off of you to reveal your bare chest. “On the floor slut” His whispered, flirty demeanor now shifted into something dark. Something feral.

You gulped, taking care to slide your bottoms off, not wanting him to slice them up before lowering yourself down onto the tiled bathroom floor.

Jin set the knife aside, pulling out his lighter and setting in on the counter before shedding his own clothes, even he kicking off his shoes. He lifted his foot, and you watched with a curious gaze as he placed his foot on your chest. He kept the weight off of you, much to your relief, and you couldn’t help but feel absolutely filthy as he rolled your breasts under the sole of his foot. You had never done anything like this. It seemed so dirty, but felt so good.

“Oh my god Jin” You gasped as he switched onto his other leg, taking his foot and shoving it into your mouth, watching in amusement as you gagged over his toes.

“Look at you. On the fucking floor. Naked little whore. Letting me do whatever I fucking want.” He removed his foot from your mouth, letting you catch your breath before you looked up at him with quivering eyes.

He felt blood rush to his cock at your expression. Licking his lips, knelt down, climbing over you to gently trail his fingers where his foot had been moments ago.

“And you love it” He sneered, letting his nails dig into your breast, “You love the pain don’t you you fucking slut?” When you didn’t answer he grabbed your jaw, pushing his fingers into the edge of your mouth. “I asked you a fucking question”

“Y...yes” You exhaled. You felt his fingers tease your clit, teeth tugging on your lobe as he laughed darkly.

Jin reached for the martini glass “Turn over” He growled. You found yourself with your breasts pressed flat against the floor, Jin’s cock pressing into your ass. You gasped as he poured the drink onto your back. “This is gonna burn. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. I know you are, you let Yoongi do it so I can too”

“Wait what” Jin pressed your face down with one hand while the other grabbed his lighter, “Jin. Hold on.” Your voice rose in fear, which only turned Jin on more. He watched as you writhed under him, trying desperately to get away. “Jin seriously. That’s not funny”

“Shhh. You can take it” He cooed, flicking the flame on he slowly lowered it to your skin, bringing it nearer and nearer to the doused skin. You yelped as you began to feel the concentrated heat. Your entire body was petrified. “Enjoy it baby. You like it. You love it. You let Yoongi do it so why can’t I?”

“Jin. It’s not you, I'm just not ready for something like this please” Jin cocked his head aside in irritation, stopping the lighter before it actually touched you and tossing it aside. “I didn’t let Yoongi brand me he just did.”

Jin stilled momentarily. “And you still love him? Even though he did that?”

You didn’t answer. That alone was enough for Jin to rage. He slammed your face back down, the blow giving you a dizzying sensation that hat you getting wetter by the second.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled, “How can you love someone like that?” He pulled your face up, bending you back until you were flush against his chest. “I don’t want any of them touching you again. You understand me?” He let go, giving you whiplash as you fell back to the floor. “Ass up. Now” He spanked your ass hard, causing you to yelp. The stinging pain vibrated to your core. You couldn’t help but love every second of it.

Jin knew that you were scared of him, he could feel it. He could also see the way your thighs would clench whenever he did anything to you. You were his favorite drug. He was going to ruin you.

He grabbed his belt from the pile of clothes on the side, “Hands under” He demanded, rolling his lip through his teeth as you obeyed him right away. He took the belt tying your wrists to your knees under you.

He took a moment to admire his work, your shivering body all his for the taking. You had no where to run. He had you now. “Who gives it to you the best him?” Pulling you towards him by your thighs, he didn’t care that your knees would burn against the smooth tile as he lined his cock up with your folds. He spat down, a glob of saliva landing on your ass before he used his cock head to rub it all over you. He could hear your shaky breath, your whiny moans that made him want to fuck you even more.

He slapped his palm onto the curve of your ass, bending over your to growl into your ear “Filthy whore. You disgust me. You let them all just do whatever they want to you, don’t you have any fucking self respect?” He could see his words were hitting close to home. You pursed your trembling lips as Jin smacked you again in the same place.

“When will you fucking learn huh? This pussy” He reached his hand to harshly cup your cunt, shoving two fingers inside you without warning. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. My cockslut whore” Taking his fingers out, he shoved them into your mouth “You taste that? That how desperate your needy little cunt is for me”

Your legs were strung together, making it all the more painful when he finally began to push his cock inside you, using his fingers to scissor you open so that he could get deep inside you. His length pushed against your tight walls, your cries and curses only motivating Jin to push further.

“Who owns this cunt huh?” Jin pulled your hips back, burning your knees each time as he pulled you on and off his cock. Your ass slammed into him with each blow.

“You do. Holy fuck, you do” You gasped, practically screaming as your whole body ached with pain and pleasure.

“That’s right baby” He pinched your clit, making you yelp as he flicked at it, pounding into your relentlessly.

“J..Jin” You mumbled, lips still half pressed on the floor, “Jin please. Feels good” Jin scoffed, “Gonna cum...gonna cum” You inhaled loudly as you felt your high approaching. Your eyes clenched shut as he edged you closer and closer, fingers furiously attacking your clit until he stopped.

You let out a loud sob as Jin yanked you up by your neck “You really thought I would let you cum whore?” His grip tightened, cock twitching at the way your voice sounded choking, the water streaming from your eyes and the drool at the edge of your lips. He kissed you, licking it all up in the process.

“Look in the mirror. Look at how pathetic you are. I want you to remember the only person who’s ever gonna let you feel this good” You looked at your reflection, seeing only your faces and the way Jin’s nails dug into your neck. He pushed you forward so that your chin was on the countertop. You coughed out, watching as he resumed his thrusts, punishing your clit with the jarring movements of his fingers.

You screamed, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of tantalizing heat. You gushed onto his cock, tears falling from your eyes due to how overwhelming the sensation was. Jin continued to whisper filth right into your ears but you could no longer hear anything. Your vision became hazy, not minding the blow when Jin shoved you back onto the floor and pounded you to his own release.

On the other side of the wall, Namjoon leaned his head back and sighed, glancing down to see his cock in his hands, now completely covered in cum.

Taehyung chewed on his gum nonchalantly as he paced around the luxurious hotel, checking out all the fun features. The pool deck was nice, the lobby exquisite, and his favorite part, the cafe, smelt delicious.

Yoongi had asked to meet him in his suite. On his way there he ran into you, and you knocked his breath away. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight you looked elegant. It was such a surprising contrast to your usual getup, but you looked amazing. He was about to tell you just that when he finally registered the hurt look in your eyes.

“You liar” You slapped him with everything you had. Taehyung backed away in surprise. “How could you use me like that? Over and over again. I trusted you. You were really the only one I thought had my back. Without a fucking doubt” You lunged towards him for another hit but Taehyung held your wrist firmly.

“What are you talking about? When did I use you?” Taehyung looked around frantically, “Calm down okay, let’s go somewhere and talk this through.” Your eyes flared in anger.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You’re gonna kill them!” You screamed. Taehyung squinted, noticing the slight redness in your eyes. He sighed in understanding, pulling you by the wrist into a corridor.

“Y/n. Breathe. Tell me what’s going on” Taehyung attempted to calm you down but you were enraged. “And what the fuck are you on?”

Admittedly, you and Jin had ended up doing many more lines of coke, perhaps even molly, you were no longer sure, but you washed it down with the bottle of gin, finding it unprecedentedly hilarious that Jin liked to drink gin martinis.

“You used me! To fuck with Jimin! And Yoongi! You lied to me! Everything you said was a fucking lie, everything you did, every stupid word that came out of your stupid mouth was a lie! You just want power. You’re selfish, and...and...you’re gonna KILL them” A dramatic gasp left your lips, Taehyung almost laughed, “You’re gonna kill Yoongi. I...I can’t let you do that”

You pulled out your gun, cocking it and pressing it against Taehyung’s chest. He instantly put his hands up. “Y/n. Y/n stop. That’s not true okay you’re not thinking straight. Don’t do something you’ll regret”

Your hands trembled around the gun “You’ll kill them. You’ll kill them both...I can’t let you do that”

“Hold on!”

Too late. You pulled the trigger.

Hobi wandered through the parking lot looking for his car. His eyes narrowed on a familiar vehicle, thinking back to when he had loaded the drug money from the last fight.

So. Is that guy Yoongi then? The one I kept seeing? Hobi wandered over to the car. Peering inside the passenger window, his eyes locked on a small item on the floor of the car. He squinted to read it, it appeared to be some sort of credit card.

He stepped back, realizing what the name on the card was. He glanced around before taking the end of his gun and ramming it into the door handle. The door creaked open, allowing Hobi to swipe the card up. He slid it into his pocket, before hurriedly returning to the hotel.

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he watched you pull a gun out on Taehyung. He had been thoroughly entertained as you yelled and slapped him, knowing full well that you were high out of your mind.

Namjoon couldn’t understand Jin’s plan at all. He had eavesdropped on everything so far, as per Yoongi’s orders. Why would Jin ask you to kill Taehyung, why wouldn’t he just do it himself? He knew you would hate yourself if you actually killed him.

He had also been thoroughly disappointed at how easily Jungkook had bought into Jin’s agenda as well. The things people do for money. Namjoon sighed, realizing that he was pretty much acting on similar motivations.

You were ready to pull the trigger, and Namjoon was almost certain you wouldn’t do it, until he saw your finger begin to curl. He ran towards the corridor as fast as he could.

“Hold on!” He yelled, but it was too late. Taehyung’s eyes flew shut.

Namjoon blinked, not hearing the familiar gunshot sound. You looked equally confused, glancing down the barrel of your gun. Taehyung let out a shaky sigh of relief, sliding down the wall.

“It...was a blank” You mumbled. Namjoon rushed to your side, pulling you away from Taehyung. “What the...what was I just about to do?” His heart clenched as your lips parted in shock.

“Taehyung are you okay?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung nodded, clearly shaken up but managing to get a hold of himself.

“What the fuck is going on?” He growled, “Who gave her a gun? And who gave her drugs while she had a gun? Fucking hell”

Namjoon stroked your back as you let the gun drop to the floor, the weight of your actions finally hitting you.

“I’m so sorry. Taehyung I...” You looked into his eyes. Those eyes that always left you questioning what was really going on in that pretty head of his.

“Yeah. Jin fucking fed her some interesting stories about how you’re using her. At least I hope they’re just stories” Namjoon peered at him. “I’m Namjoon by the way, we haven’t officially met”

Taehyung shook his hand “Hi Namjoon. I heard you make pretty decent music” He chuckled ironically, “Y/n, I need you to tell me everything Jin said. There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I promise you I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

Namjoon made a face, exchanging a glance with you as you nodded slowly. Namjoon was not entirely sure he should believe Taehyung. He supposed it wouldn’t matter, when he knew that Yoongi was planning to kill Taehyung anyways. The more information he had, the better he could at least keep you out of trouble.

P R E S E N T D A Y--

Security escorted you and Jimin out immediately as the media broke into a frenzy trying to figure out what had happened. You had hoped your acting skills had convinced him.

After Taehyung sobered you up slightly, the three of you had sat and schemed. Using everything the three of you knew, you were able to figure out that it really was Jin behind Jimin’s accident, your and Namjoon’s kidnapping, as well as Jungkook’s attempted murder. He was able to do all of this using Hobi’s help, but Hobi seemed not to know that he was receiving orders from Jin.

The question remained how and why.

“I know you’re not going to believe me. So I have proof” Taehyung pulled his phone out, pulling up a recording of Jin tied up somewhere.

All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. And I get to kill them. My way

You felt queasy seeing his earnest expression through the film. Namjoon’s jaw clenched, recognizing crazy when he saw it, wishing he could have knocked the guy’s brains out beforehand.

“Listen to me. This guy is dangerous. I don’t really understand why he’s doing all of this. He said he wanted to help me, but clearly there’s some other motive here. Otherwise he wouldn’t go behind my back.” Taehyung muttered.

“The only way to know what he wants is to see what he does next” Namjoon pitched in.

You glanced between the two men, feeling weirdly relieved that you finally had some solid answers. Having Namjoon by your side after so long was the best thing you could ask for at the moment, and you clung to him, hands wrapped around his arm tightly. He thought it was cute.

“Let me fake my death. Let’s see what he does.”

The drivers took you and Jimin to the precinct. You looked around for Namjoon but he was nowhere to be seen. Your eyes met Jin’s briefly as he signed some paperwork. He winked at you.

“Can I have the body taken to get an autopsy report please?” You weren’t phased by this. Taehyung had said he had enough contacts to make it truly believable that he had died. Jimin’s face was void of emotion as he watched the stretcher go past with the body on it.

You left the hold on his hand, your blood running cold as the body nears you. It was loosely covered with a white sheet, but the arm hung out limply from the sight.

That watch. That’s his watch.

Jimin pressed his lips to the top of your head, sliding his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him “You okay babe?”

“I...no yeah, I’m just shocked” You stammered. You looked up at him, allowing him to place a loving kiss on your lips.

Jimin felt for you, he really did. He himself was generally an emotional person, it was not something he ever tried to hide. But he always felt like his emotional energy was valuable. He didn’t feel the need to cry. Not for Taehyung.

Jimin stroked your back softly, “It’s scary, I know. I know baby, but don’t worry” He licked his lips, eyes briefly meeting Hobi’s from across the room. Hobi gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: WOOHOOO. the fun is really gonna start now. did you miss yoongi? don’t worry, he’ll be back. drop your theories in my asks! who killed taehyung? what’s jin’s deal?

smut pairs are up for next week! poor oc, she really needs to eat some food. yikes.

see you then & thanks for reading <3 happy juneteenth!

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx @bangtan-army @you-are-my-wind

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