#i think it must have been your birthday a while ago anyway wasn't it?

[newt-and-salamander]

for @scamanderishredmayniac - original concept by @alicexz

[sunnebeam]

good for a weekend.

DRABBLE.

pairing: jung hoseok x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (yall know the drill, let's be protected irl), sex against a window, blank space au, chaebol!reader (she has issues), businessman!hoseok, profanity

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: took me a long time to choose the title for this one bc i just realized i already used a blank space lyric for jimin's drabble lol. but anyways here it is! idk the accurate word count but i think this is longer than all my other drabbles so far. enjoy <3 don't forget to share ur thoughts and give feedback ^^

When you were younger, you didn’t really understand why no one wanted to be friends with you.

Apart from your butler Yeonjun (who's paid to put up with your shit but is still genuine in his companionship nonetheless), a paintbrush and a canvas were the only real confidants you had for your pent up frustrations as a child.

Now that you're older, your isolation becomes more self-induced.

"Is it true that she's back together with Kim Taehyung again?”

“No, I heard that her family arranged for her and Park Jimin to marry next year...”

“But wasn't she spotted looking cozy with Jeon Jungkook at a bar last week?”

"No, no, I could've sworn she was hooking up with Min Yoongi—"

"Damn, she's going through men way too fast, don't you think?"

“Honestly, I think she's just a spoiled, rich playgirl."

You sigh, sitting on your chair in the art room of your very own mansion — a gift from your father after he missed out on your eighteenth birthday — while Yeonjun watches you paint your heart out.

“I haven’t seen Kim Seokjin around lately…” he muses as he steps closer to look at your work. By the looks of it, you must be feeling some pretty angry emotions.

“Silly Yeonjun,” you giggle too loudly, hand gripping your brush rather forcefully as you stare at your palette. “Seokjin and I broke up ages ago. Actually, I haven’t seen him since the haircut incident.”

Ah, the haircut incident…

Yeonjun shivers, remembering that outburst all too well. The memory of you hysterically chopping off your hair in a fit of jealousy while Kim Seokjin helplessly tried to get you to stop. That marked the end of your six-month relationship, leaving you with uneven chunks of hair and the man with a questionable restraining order.

Not your best moment, that much you can admit.

“Anyways,” you snicker, shaking your head to clear the onslaught of memories, “let’s not talk about him anymore, ‘kay?”

You stand up, leaving your painting half-finished, and walk over to the big floor-to-ceiling window.

Your mansion is the biggest in the area, filled with numerous rooms and spaces that far surpassed the amount you need for basic living. Your art room – easily the biggest room, even topping your master bedroom – houses a beautiful glass window that overlooks the property.

“Besides,” you say, clapping your hands, “we have more important things to worry about.” You turn to him and squeal, jumping up and down. “My art exhibit is in a couple of months! Can you believe it, Yeonjun?"

Your excitement has you skipping around the room in glee. You’ve been planning your own exhibit for months and now that it's drawing nearer, you feel more excited than nervous. You hope with all your heart that this exhibit could finally paint you in a proper light, letting you shine as 'the young, twenty-something art extraordinaire' instead of the 'resident fuckgirl who's only good for a weekend.'

“I know, sweetie.” Yeonjun smiles, feeling genuinely happy for you. But before he can further share in your excitement, the doorbell rings.

The noise makes you glance at your watch and smirk. Right on time.

Together, you and Yeonjun walk down the massive staircase to greet your guest, and Jung Hoseok hears you before he even catches sight of you — the clicking of your heels resonating loudly across the living room. He turns his head to the sound and smiles handsomely at the both of you.

For a few moments, none of you say a word but the electricity between you and your guest is hard to ignore.

"Shall I leave you to your business?" Yeonjun breaks the silence, directing the question at you. After all, at this point, he already knows the drill whenever you have your guests over.

You nod, never taking your eyes off Hoseok's and your butler immediately excuses himself.

Once it's just the two of you left, Hoseok holds out a hand to you. “Jung Hoseok. Pleasure to meet you."

You tell him your name, placing your hand in his and immediately, he brings it up to gently brush his lips against your knuckles. “Pleasure's all mine, Hoseok."

“Just Hobi is fine, gorgeous."

He winks at you and smiles. And just like all the other times, you feel yourself falling. Spiralling. Obsessing.

“Hobi…” you repeat, “shall we go over the terms of your company's sponsorship for my art exhibit?”

“Of course,” he responds. "Shall we discuss it in your office?"

"Oh no," you feign disappointment.

"What is it?"

“I'm terribly sorry, Hobi,” you utter, “but my office is under renovations at the moment—"

(It isn't.)

"—and I’m afraid it's not convenient for business discussions for the time being.”

“Is that so?��� Hoseok muses, his eyes on your lips as you purse them contemplatively. “Should we take our discussion somewhere else, then?” He offers, not wanting to cut his visit short.

He stares right into your pretty eyes and he swears you've performed some sort of magic right then and there because he finds himself right under your spell.

“Good idea." You smile, your hand sliding up to rest on the crook of his elbow as you lead him up your stairs. “I know the perfect place.”

And that's how he found himself in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your immaculate bed with your head bobbing up and down between his legs.

"Shit," he curses when you take him deeper in your mouth. "Yeah, that's it, gorgeous."

You look up at him with wide eyes, making sure to maintain eye contact when you swallow around him. He bites his lip at the feeling, his thumb reaching out to wipe the stray tears running down your cheek.

You look so pretty. So fucking gorgeous.

Hoseok wonders how the hell he managed to get an invitation to your bed. Sure, he's quite attractive but you're in a whole other league of your own. You're way up there on a pedestal, you and the other chaebols in your wealthy family's circle. Whereas, he's just a mere businessman trying to negotiate a sponsorship proposal.

But, fuck, he's not complaining.

You whine when he pulls you up and onto his lap, your lips releasing his dick with a pop. Feeling needy, you suckle at the soft skin of his neck while he desperately removes your clothes and then his.

"Hobi," you whimper into his neck and the sound goes straight to his already hard cock. "Need you. Please."

"Shit," he groans when you rub your leaking core against his thigh. "Hold on to me."

You comply, wrapping your arms and legs around him, and he stands up to walk the both of you towards your bedroom's clear, glass window. Just like the one in your art room, this one spans wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, and overlooks the front of the mansion.

He sets you down on your feet and turns you around so that you're looking out. Your pussy dribbles even more arousal at the sight of your enormous front gates from the distance, the thought of being seen turning you on.

"Hobi," you whine when you feel his throbbing cock prodding at your entrance, and push your ass out in response.

"Don't hold back, gorgeous," he tells you when you let out a muffled moan. "I want the whole mansion to hear you."

He enters you swiftly, making you groan loudly and press your palms against the window. He pulls back, making you whine desperately and shift your weight on your feet. He slams back inside roughly, making you scream incoherently and fuck yourself back on him.

"That's it," Hoseok groans, "fuck me back."

And you do.

He thrusts into you in rough but deep thrusts. You fuck back into him, arching your back, causing your tits to press against the glass. The added stimulation to your nipples makes you play with your clit, making figure eight motions and heightening your pleasure.

"Shit, gorgeous. You're creaming."

He sees a creamy ring of white on the base of his cock and curses, the sight pushing him closer to his climax. You only whine in response, clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Hobi, I'm gonna—"

"Cum with me, gorgeous," he coaxes you. "Now."

You obey, cumming around him while he finishes inside you. You're breathing heavily, relishing in the warmth of his release and he just chuckles affectionately at your fucked out face.

He pulls out of you and when you lead him back to your bed, he suddenly feels exhausted. His eyes can barely stay open and the last thing he remembers before sleep takes over him is your voice telling him three little words.

When Hoseok wakes up, he sees you all dressed, propped up on the headboard and glaring at him.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" he asks groggily.

"Who's Sooah?" you ask him immediately, your voice clipped.

"What?"

You show him the unlocked phone in your hand. His phone.

"What the fuck? You went through my phone?"

"She was texting you nonstop. Who is she?"

"She's a colleague, not that I need to explain myself to you. And she's the venue coordinator for your art exhibit!"

"I don't beleve you!"

"How the fuck did you even know my password?"

"Are you cheating on me?" you demand, tears falling down your face.

"Cheating on you?" he repeats your question incredulously. "We literally just met!"

But you aren't listening to him. No, you're spiralling, clutching your hair and looking at him desperately. "Did I do something wrong? Is she prettier than me? Is she—"

"You're insane," he cuts you off, frightened at your sudden behavior. As quickly as he possibly can, he puts on his clothes and scrambles towards your bedroom door. "Fuck this shit, I'm leaving."

To his surprise, you don't follow him, though he can hear your heartbroken wails all the way to the front door. When he gets to his car, his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

"WHAT THE FUCK? YOU WRECKED MY CAR?!" he yells, the question directed at you but his exasperated eyes are trained on his wrecked vehicle.

The punctured tiles, cracked windshield, and dented exterior would cost him a fortune. But he decides that's a problem for another day. Right now, he just has to get out of here.

"Crazy bitch," he mutters when he finally exits your property gates on foot.

Back in your room, you cry your heart out while Yeonjun caresses your hair comfortingly.

Your butler knows the drill by now. You just need one day to cry all your tears, another day to forget about it, and around three more days to move on.

Which is why, a few days later, Yeonjun opens the door to a charming, dimpled face. He leads the man to the living room where you're waiting and leaves you two to your business.

"What's your name?" you ask your guest.

"Kim Namjoon," he replies, taking your hand and kissing it. "Pleasure to meet you, gorgeous."

A heartbeat. Then another.

And then you smile.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[elmundodeflor]

In the span of 10 years, Hanji writes Levi one letter for each birthday they spend together.

"12 Things I Never Told You" pays homage to his and Hanji's bond through space and time, and depicts the loving light in which they saw him.

You can read the full fic and 12 letters here, on AO3.

In the meantime, here's one of the letters for you to check out;

Levi,

When I gave you the tea-can earlier, the look on your face could have only meant two things:

1) "This must have been expensive as hell."

2) "You're batshit crazy for spending on it."

I told you, though! I wasn't gonna throw you a birthday party, but you had to expect a gift from me, at least. I like going all out!

Anyways, it was a nice surprise that you came down the lab with two mugs instead of one. And that you talked about your mother.

You told me that you had this same tea-can at home, in the Underground. And that your mom had gotten it for trade from one of her clients that lived up here. Your entire face softened when you mentioned her— how graceful she was. It was like seeing sugar melting on the stove.

Of course, I didn't ask— if she's alive, or what happened to her. I didn't mean to be intrusive. But the way you spoke in past-tense... oh, I'm sorry, Levi. I'm so, so sorry. Really. If she was anything quite like you, then I'm sure she was a wonderful woman.

To be honest, I don't know either— whether my mom's alive or not. You see, I never talk about this for a reason. I ran away from home when I was fourteen. My parents were... well, let's just say... not good people. I was mischievous, and rebellious, and asked too many questions. They most definitely did not like that.

My grandpa was the closest thing I ever had to a father, or a friend. He did die, though. He was mischievous, and rebellious, and asked as many questions as I did. I guess, back then, it not only made my parents uncomfortable, but the Military Police as well...

It was the reason I joined the Survey Corps, you know? You may not believe this, but I was once full of rage, too. I'm just lucky I could turn it into something better— passion, purpose. I'm certainly not proud of how it used to be. You should have seen me, all those years ago; shouting down the hallways, kicking titans' heads... I just hope you never get to see it again. If you do, I'm scared you might never look at me the same, and that I never forgive myself for it.

I have no clue how you do it, though— carry yourself through life. Back then, if they'd given me the names of the fuckers who took my grandpa, I'd have killed them on the spot. You, on the other hand, (and I know you'll get mad at me for saying this) are gentle. If you wanted to, you could break necks with a single blow. Or seek revenge towards the world for what it's done to you. But you choose not to. You actively, every day, choose not to.

Yeah, yeah, you probably don't like me reminding you of all this. But you're kind, Levi. You stay in the lab with me while I’m working, and you trust me enough to tell me about your mother. And you share this expensive-ass-tea I bought for you.

You're a good person. Much better than I'll ever be. I know you don’t think that you are, and that you worry others may also think that you’re not. But it’s true— you’re a good man.

See? It doesn't even matter I spent half my budget on this! (You’ve been warned, you won’t ever hear a word about it). You deserve to have nice things, little one. Also, it was pretty neat to hear that tiny hum of satisfaction you made when you drank from your cup. I know not many things surprise you nowadays, either. So, I'll take my pride in knowing I did— HA!

Hope you had a good night. And that you had a great birthday— yeah, that too!

Happy you're with me for another year.

See you around,

Hanji x

P.S: Thank you for the tea. Literally the best one I had!

[danganronpaautism]

A collection of translated kiyotaka birthday tweets plus the pictures:

Ishimaru: “Clean! Make it clean from top to bottom! On your birthday, polish yourself and your living space! This is the duty of a student! But...I felt weak. I was supposed to clean it up, but I received so many congratulations. Okay, I'll clean up tomorrow! Haha, I'm the flexible type. You could say it was a joke! For example...Iwai-kun's celebration! What do you think? That would be interesting! ”

lshimaru: Look at this huge amount of birthday presents! Everyone celebrated my birthday! However, this wasn't my strength alone! It was because of the strength of my brothers. !Will you celebrate with me!? Congratulations, brother!"

Ishimaru: `Oh! While was cleaning the room, an additional gift arrived! Hmm? How long will you be cleaning it for? Well, started cleaning everyone's room anyway, but it was just too much time. got stuck. Especially because my brother's room was so bad. But definitely do it! The dirt on my heart comes from the dirt in my room!"

lshimaru: "Oh? My birthday was supposed to be over a month ago..-| see! Someone must have forgotten something! Hahaha! don't care! I'm sure. My forget-it beam must have worked! Remember! Remember! Remember beer! Oh my! Hahaha, my joke is funny, isn't it!?

Ishimaru: "Huh? It's a birthday present for me. But! Exchanging presents at school is prohibited! It's written in the school regulations! This will be confiscated by the school! Huh? Hey! Haha, that prank was a huge success! Even can do pranks! I've learned the art of flexibility! So, this is true!"

Ishimaru: "Is everyone in shape! Hahaha! I've recently become addicted to saunas! I've been eating udon noodles in a pot with my siblings and taking the sauna to the extreme, and when we get out, we both drink a glass of milk. It feels so good! It's called getting in shape! Hmm? Water bath? Outside air bath? I don't know anything soft like that!

I did not translate these myself. I use:

These translations seem to make more sense than the Google translate ones, if I got anything wrong please correct me.

[inhellwithdante]

[I haven't posted on here in ages so here's some post-canon, fluff and angst JeanKasa + Baby 💕🍼]

Jean ran from the car to the front door right as he pulled the handbrake: both from the excitement of finally seeing his family again, but he'd also forgotten his umbrella.

He opened the door, and no "I'M HOMEEEEE" was needed, that Mikasa clinged onto him as soon as he came into her field of view.

No room for words or greetings, before they got tired of kissing, resting their foreheads against their spouse's, and kissing again.

"Fuck, I missed you.."

"That was my line.."

A final kiss, and finally: "Welcome back, honey.."

"I missed you like air, precious. How are you feeling..? Got any headaches while I was away?"

"Mh, barely.. Marco kept me busy enough anyway."

Taking his hat and jacket off, dropping his suitcase next to the hanger, Jean looked around for the crib. He could smell it again, that newborn smell.

"He's right next to the fireplace, it was even colder until about an hour ago. I'll prepare a warm bath for you while you say hi to him, boo.."

"Oh, go sit down a little, Mikasa. You must be exhausted."

"You look more exhausted, Jean. C'mon, let me spoil you too sometimes, or I'll feel even more guilty.."

They really were kiss-deprived, still.

"Alright, you win.. Let me watch him until it's time to make dinner while you rest a bit, okay?"

"After you'll have your very-late-lunch, then that's a deal.."

That sounded the tiniest bit like a threat, but he felt pampered and loved.

"So, who do we have here again..?"

Peeking over the crib, Jean whispered.

"Hey, he's grown a little..!"

Taking measurements of his son with his hands, gently and barely brushing his raven locks while being careful not to wake him up by tickling his toes, Jean watched over the bundle in adoration.

"Here, sweetie: Papa got ya this from his work trip, for your first monthly birthday, you can take the time to enjoy when you wake up, 'aight..?"

Mikasa's eyes got wet before she could even approach the crib and look at the present; Jean hugged her and lightly kissed her head, twice.

They took deep and long breaths looking down at their baby: Mikasa cupped in hers the man's hand that rested on the crib, to feel his warmth.

"Holy, you're so cold Mikasa.. Mind joining me for the bath?"

Resting her hands on his cheek and shoulder, she realised that she was, indeed, very cold.

She was always cold, and married to a human stove; no wonder they became parents within two years from their first date.

"Of course."

She kissed his lips, before she headed for the upstairs to get the bath warm and ready.

While Jean, kept an eye on little Marco as he had his lunch, too.

¤¤¤

Mikasa smiled as she was finally done waiting for her husband to join her on the couch; she was right about to fall asleep, listening to the white noises of the water running down the sink and the wood burning in the fireplace.

"Is it warm enough, honey?"

"Yeah, it's perfect.."

Then, finally, her man joined her: scooping her up in his arms, they curled around each other in the corner of their couch.

Laying her head on his chest, Mikasa took a deep breath: a tear ran down her eye, she couldn't help it.

Jean said nothing, but added one more kiss on her forehead.

"Deep breaths, precious..."

"I'm okay, just... very emotional, still. I think my period's coming back already."

Jean snorted, lightly: "Phew, it's kind of too early for a baby sister, yet..."

"Jean..!"

She almost hissed, playfully.

She wasn't like that before she got comfortable with Jean: he'd driven her to teach herself how to be silly and light as a little girl again.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you on the phone.."

"Mh, what is it?"

Resting her chin on his chest, looking up to stare back into the man's eyes, Mikasa massaged his beard while he ran his fingers down her long hair.

"Marco's been smiling, these past couple of days. I-I almost cried when he first smiled at me.."

"That's so cute, he loves his mama so much..! Why are you sad, beautiful?"

"It's dumb."

"I bet it's not. You can tell me, if you want."

The woman kept silent for a few seconds: she listened to the wood burning in the fireplace, the baby's noises as he still slept, her man's heart beating regularly.

"Such a tiny thing, smiling at me... do I deserve it?"

Jean's heart skipped some beats, under her cheek. "Why do you doubt that, honey?"

"These hands were covered in blood. The same hands that touch our child now."

The man was left speechless for a moment. The silence was broken by baby Marco's cries; Mikasa got up immediately, and Jean followed her.

"What is it, sweetie pie..?" Mikasa kissed her baby, holding him on her chest. The boy stopped crying the second he could smell Mama again.

"Look who's back..! Is that Papa? Is it your Papa?"

"Yeah, buddy, hello..! Have you seen your new toy?"

Jean picked up from the crib the tiny duck plushie he'd bought at the market in Liberio, strolling down a street that hadn't been 'fixed' yet. He couldn't believe he and his wife had been parents for a full month, already: his hands shaked a bit when his son gripped his tiny fists around his finger.

"He's gonna love it, Jean.. Oh, are you hungry..?"

That boy was indeed hungry.

Jean burped him afterwards, and had him lay on his chest for some bonding quality time. Mikasa was so glad she'd found such a sweet and caring man, a present father, a dedicated husband and a best friend for life.

She smiled softly at her boys, not thinking of anything else for once.

Jean noticed: "Are you feeling better, precious?"

He realised he'd made a mistake when he witnessed his wife snapping out of that longed-for peace of mind, back to the real world.

Jean bit his own tongue.

"I'm sorry, Mikasa."

That couldn't possibly be enough, so he added: "We can't erase the past, it'll stay there. And my hands were covered in blood, too. Since we had Marco, I keep thinking of the children I might have made orphans without knowing it."

"What will he think of us, when he finds out?" Mikasa's voice broke in the middle of that sentence.

Jean didn't have an answer to that: he was mortally scared of that, too.

"I... don't know yet. We don't have to tell him, necessarily."

"He'll find out one way or the other. Will we ever stop having night terrors?"

Jean clenched his lips.

He repeated: "I don't know yet."

"Sorry, I'm stressing you out too, now."

She thought that the man needed a kiss on the forehead, so she kissed him.

"It's alright, we can't pretend like we haven't done the things we've done. But we happened to live during very hard times, and we'll raise a smart child that will be able to consider the context once he's grown."

"It just feels unfair to him. I'd feel bad if I found out today, that my late parents had killed people before I was born."

Jean nodded to that, wiping his eyes. It was clear, he didn't really believe in what he'd just said.

"Do I deserve to have children?"

"You do. You're the best mother ever."

"How can you say that?"

"You have had the roughest childhood and adolescence that led you into a very much complicated adulthood, to this day. Still, you're so sweet to this boy and he's your everything, isn't he..?"

"You're part of my 'everything' too, Jean." She couldn't put into words how glad she was, she had someone like Jean in her life.

"I love you." It slipped out of Jean's mouth without him realising it, but he of course meant it.

"I love you too." She thought kisses on the cheek to be special, almost as special as kisses on the lips.

They went on with their day avoiding the matter again, they didn't want to suffer anymore for a few hours.

But as she fed her baby in the middle of the night, to try and soothe him back to sleep when everything else had failed, Mikasa realised what Jean was trying to say, that afternoon.

And she told him, as she closed the door to their bedroom behind her back again. She found her favourite tea to be waiting for her.

"It's too early to get up yet. Let's sleep a couple more hours, then in the morning I'll chop some more wood so it'll be all set for when my mother comes babysitting."

The ravenette suddenly remembered: it was her birthday already, the clock said it was past midnight.

"Happy birthday, Mikasa."

Jean swore to himself he was going to do everything in his power, to make her special day even more special.

[taintedsoul-if]

It has been a while since I've posted on Tumblr hasn't It? I am the type of person that doesn't like talking about myself. But I feel as if I owe it to you all to give a bit of crumbs about what is going on as of late.

So for the past couple months I've been "struggling" with unemployment. 🙄 honestly I shouldn't even say struggling. When I left my last job a few months ago I swore to myself that I would never enter the BPO sector ever again. It's too much for me. But I understand, leave your problems/introverted personality at the door and be more professional. They all said but it just wasn't for me. Long story short ever since I made that promise to myself I've been home everyday just doing what I love. (Writing)

Two weeks ago I think.... an extended family member of mine mentioned an opening at her company. (Which is not BPO related! 😌) i just knew I had to jump on that opportunity. Let's be honest here, I am the type that gets anxious when there's no money in my pocket. 😅. And this is a new year... I have much that I want to accomplish.

Anyways my first interview was actually Sunday. And I passed that with flying colours. 🤧. The next phase of my interview will be a test which I've been studying for. Studying is basically what I do every single day. I get up at 5 in the morning and I study until 5 in the evening. I am a mediocre person that tends to give up sometimes lol. I wash my face with tears because most times I just feel like I'm wasting my time on something that I'll never be able to achieve. (🙄) This takes me back to highschool days. And I'll just stop there haha. But I am confident that I'll pass this exam with flying colours, get my employee ID badge and work my honest daypay. So that is what I've been doing.

I've neglected my babies but I feel like it will be worth it in the end. The update might be slow but it'll get there. So forgive me!

Though you guys don't have to worry.... I've already said it more than once and I'll say it again, I do plan to finish this IF of mine. I'll get back to writing Friday after I've completed my test. Time away from my IF has given me time to think about the true direction of my story. I might do some big changes to chapter1. Add a bit more dialogue and characters? But I must ask.

I was rolling over backstories for how Ada and the MC met. Let me create a poll cause I've always wanted to create one! *excited* 🤣

😅 and lastly for the ask in my ask box... I'll most certainly answer some of those this weekend. As always I do hope you're all staying safe during this time. Have a pleasant day one and all and I'll be seeing you all this weekend! 😋 later!

[from-dre]

For Three Days

Not long after my ninth birthday is when I first began hearing my father violently coughing up blood on a regular basis. Rarely did I hear anymore quiet that lasted longer than a few sparse minutes from the living room where he'd sleep alone in the fold-out bed. It'd been months since I last saw him in actual clothes as he now only wore different sets of the same bland pajamas my mom probably picked out for him in a few different colors. He'd probably never again wear a nice button-up shirt. What a non-issue that must be to a healthier man whose lungs weren't rotting of cancer. They probably wore very nice, really expensive shirts everyday, like my own dad used to do before he got sick. Now, he was on his way out. That much was obvious, even to me. So when one day after school, I opened my bedroom door to find my only aunt who I hadn't seen in years, standing there cheerfully humming to herself while cleaning up my toys for me, I should've put two and two together.

She stayed for the next six months. In three my dad would die in his sleep and it'd be her who'd hear the loud gasp in the middle of some random night, not realizing until morning it was actually his last living breath before his body finally gave up fighting. She stayed another three months afterwards to look after her now-widowed sister. I don't remember much from that period of my life. Since I was strategically sent away to live with distant relatives who owned a condo in Queens, it's not like I was around to make many memories anyway. If I try to think back now, it feels like lifetimes ago. All I can tap into is seeing a lot of black clothes and faint whimpering. It feels like the sounds of sobbing were never too far off. It's eerily ambiguous though.

Still, the days I was able to spend with my aunt seemed like miracles. Those were the only times during that period where I'd feel truly happy. Like a much-needed return to form for the younger me who laughed constantly as a child. I loved "Mamateta," and even though nobody knows why I gave her that nickname, I used it for years. She adored me and took every opportunity to prove it.

Though I left Romania when I was four, I retained many more memories of my aunt than anyone else. How she'd play with me when everyone else was too busy, or how she'd nurse the many cuts and scrapes I'd get on my elbows and knees—, these things must've left quite an impact on my single-child consciousness. I specifically remember an instance where the paper cut on my index finger was so deep that I wanted to burst into tears just looking at it. While cleaning it and putting on a bandaid, I remember my aunt saying, "it feels like there's a tiny little heartbeat inside your finger doesn't it?" I nodded. "I know sweetheart, I've had this happen to me before too."

This was her amazing charm. She was easy to talk to. Such a sweet, honest lady. Though she and my mother grew up side by side, they were different people. She took after their own mom, while mine walked in her father’s footprints out of pure admiration. They were sisters nonetheless. So when Mamateta was told that she had a tumor growing within her liver this past year, it was difficult knowing the treatment she'd get wasn't going to be the world's best by any means. As the months passed, her condition worsened and last Monday she fell into a coma. I heard the helplessness in my mother’s voice when she called to tell me. You try your best in these types of situations—, to console your loved ones and make sure they know that you'll be a rock-solid crutch for them during whatever may come. You try to think two steps ahead of whatever's currently happening, just in case. The spur-of- the-moment cross-Atlantic trips have to be every grieving family member's worst nightmare. Just the logistics of it all. And in their mental condition? Of course I was preparing to jump at any request my mom would make.

Life does its thing anyway though and so, 24 hours later, her sister—, whose real name is Rodica—, passed away.

My family isn't part of the ultra-wealthy in Romania. And because the country's still reeling from decades of deep corruption, the middle class is virtually non-existent. If you aren't part of the wealthy, you're part of the poor. And because what you do to one side of the equation, you have to do to the other, they're ultra-poor. It's a sad, sad thing.

Either way, my mom begins to explain the finer details of a traditional Romanian mourning process. It's not something I know anything about or ever witnessed in person. After the dearly departed are moved into the living room, they are generally laid down on the center table for viewing. For the next three days, while the men and other experienced woodworkers craft a coffin from scratch, the family serves non-stop coffee and treats to an army of mourners who will randomly pop in and out at all times of the day and night and next day and following night and so on. All this to a constant background flurry of crying, sobbing, sharing stories of precious memories, wails of disbelief, loud prayers, and who knows what else. It's a pure emotional rollercoaster, a dramatic play in so many scenes filled with neighbors from five villages over who you may have never met before, but who've heard the tragic news and wanted to come pay their respects. It's touching but definitely not something an outsider would feel immediately at home around.

"And is the body at least covered this entire time?," I ask my mom.

"No. For three days, they live alongside it."

"Seriously?"

"They have no other options. No ambulance comes and takes them away like they do here. Over there, you look after your own dead. And when the coffin is completed, they’ll place her inside and carry it out into the countryside to her burial plot in a procession through town."

As selfish as this next feeling was, I didn't want my mom to go. I didn't want her to be apart of it, not these days, not anymore. After so much, I wanted her to just be able to rest, not have to endure something of that magnitude. I can't imagine three hours of nonstop crying let alone three days. Somehow, the Universe seemed to hear my inner-hopes. Our entire family begged her to stay put, to stay home, that there was nothing more she could do. So instead of having to finalize last-minute plans of getting her from one continent to another, she was able to hop on an Amtrak and spend this past week here in Chicago with me. To recharge her batteries I guess. To just be able to find some mental quiet and emotional peace. Now, as I'm close to wrapping up this essay and seeing her off downtown at Union Station for her train back home, I'm sincerely trying to put myself in her shoes.

I'm sure losing a sibling you've spent a lifetime growing up with is a weird feeling to have to go through. To outlive them, to think that they could've done a bit more with their life if only they would've had more time. Maybe it makes someone think about their own mortality and where they've gotten in seeing their own personal dreams coming true. Maybe my mom’s running over all of these things in her mind to the point where there's nothing left to think about. Maybe. All I can try and do is my part as her only child, her only flesh and blood, to try and live the best life I can in her name. Time will tell how successful I'll be in doing that, but an even greater feeling though, is when we can think of our loved ones who aren't here with us any longer and not feel a bit of regret. To feel a warmth and be completely calmed by just the mere thought of their name. To feel a deep need to smile because that's what they would've wanted you to do. Like even when you want to just give in to the sadness for a second and purge yourself of tears, your body physically won't let you. A familiar presence fills your immediate space and a gentle touch directly on your heart that makes you involuntarily inhale much deeper than you have in a while. Those are the types of things I hope my mother can feel as she sits down at her window-seat and readies herself for a deep meditative trip into her inner-consciousness for the next seven or so hours.

Knowing the peace and tranquility she'll emerge on the other side of this experience with, how can anyone still harbor any doubt that our souls are indeed, things which don't adhere to either the human concept or limitations of "time?" That they transcend realms of possibility. That whenever there's even the smallest hint of real love, not even the giving up of one's own body and leaving it behind for greater vessels can break a bond between two sisters.

[dorefasolsido]

43. Omg it's been a while

10 HOW’S

How did you get one of your scars?

Two years ago I was rollerskating with my sister and a tiny rock got stuck in my wheels, so I basically flew forward and slid headfirst into some debris. Luckily, I have plenty of experience falling on rollerskates, so there was no significant damage, but my elbows were hella scraped. So I still have a scar on one of them.

How did you celebrate your last birthday?

I didn't do anything for my birthday, really. I wasn't feeling it anyway, and one friend was celebrating her move to Germany on that day with a picnic, so I just went to that instead. But I am planning to do something for this one! I haven't received any presents in two years lol

How are you feeling at this moment?

Pretty good right now! I finished all my work for this month, so I can take a bit of a break, and thank god for that.

How did your night go last night?

Well I was working my ass off until like 1:30 AM lol. It's not that I had to, but inspiration hit hard, and I couldn't let it go to waste.

How did you do in high school?

Pretty well in the academic sense, that was never too difficult for me. Very poorly in the social sense, though I did have some friends, only one of which I am still in touch with today.

How did you get the shirt you’re wearing?

I think my mum bought it for me ages ago, it's probably from my high school days.

How often do you see your best friend?

I saw her last in 2018 since we live in different countries, and lots of things came up in the meantime that prevented us from visiting each other. I want to do that soon, though.

How much money did you spend last month?

I feel like I was more thrifty in June? Aside from the Scandinavian trip I paid for, I think I tried to contain myself a bit.

How old do you want to be when you get married?

I don't want to get married.

How old will you be at your next birthday?

I'll be 29 very soon.

9 WHAT’S

What is the most important part of your life?

Hmm, my family and my writing. I do a lot of the latter, but mostly not for myself, which is something I want to change.

What did you do last weekend?

I was working throughout the weekend (the joy of end of the month deadlines), and aside from that, nothing special. For the past week I barely even left my house because I am on a socializing break, and it's been so wonderful.

What did you last cry over?

I don't really remember tbh. But I must have cried recently because June is somehow always such a bad month for me. So I was in a pretty gloomy mood before I went on my socializing break. But that has been really healing.

What are you worried about?

About the book translation deadline lol. I'm not even halfway through, and they already asked me when I am going to deliver it. At the same time, though, I can't force myself to work on it now.

What is your mother’s name?

I'm too paranoid to answer that.

What always makes you feel better when you’re upset?

Run BTS or any BTS content really, driving around aimlessly while blasting music, those awful sweaty dance cardio workouts. And like, renewing my hair colour.

What would you rather be doing?

Right now, nothing. I'm happy I finally got to do this, since I either wasn't in the mood or was too busy for months.

What’s the most important thing you look for in a significant other?

I guess what would be the most important is just understanding and respecting each other. Everything else can fall into place if those two things are there.

What did you have for breakfast?

Nothing.

EIGHT HAVE YOU’S

Have you ever done something outrageously dumb?

Oh for sure. Just recently I've texted someone I know I absolutely should have no contact with. But eh, so far so good.

Have you ever had sex on the beach?

Nope.

Have you ever been backstabbed by a friend?

I don't think I've ever been outright backstabbed, but I've had moments when I realized, yeah, this person is not my friend.

Have you ever been out of the country?

Yup.

Have you ever dated someone younger than you?

Nope.

Have you ever liked someone who already had somebody?

Well yeah, I sometimes get these platonic crushes on taken people lol. I would never do anything about it, and I genuinely think it happens because I know they are unavailable and therefore are "safe".

Have you ever been brokenhearted?

Sure have.

Have you ever read an entire book in one day?

Oh yeah, Stephen King's Carrie just last year. It's a short book and it hooked me right in, I spent the whole day in my room just reading.

SEVEN WHO’S:

Who is the last person you saw?

My sister.

Who is the last person that you texted?

My best friend.

Who called you last?

My dad, I think? But I missed the call, and he talked to my sister instead.

Who is the last person you hung out with?

Aside from my sister and grandma, no one in particular in almost two weeks. But I've had more than enough hanging out at the beginning of June.

Who did you hug last?

No idea, maybe my parents when I came home?

Who is the last person that texted you?

My best friend.

Who was the last person you said “I love you” to?

Oh I have no idea, I don't say that very often.

SIX WHERE’S:

Where does your best friend live?

In Lithuania.

Where is your favorite place to be?

Depends, but right now, I enjoy nothing more than being right here in my childhood home alone.

Where did you sleep last night?

My bed.

Where did you last hang out?

Two weeks ago I met two of my friends at one lake in Belgrade.

Where do/did you go to school?

Elementary and high school in my hometown, university in Belgrade.

Where did you last adventure to?

Well, I did quite a bit of mountain climbing at the beginning of June.

FIVE DO’S/DOES

Do you ever wish you were someone else?

Yup, quite often. Not because I hate my life or anything (well, most of the time lol), but because I would like to experience how it is to be, I don't know, a famous singer, or an astronaut, or an explorer, or all these other things. I can't do all that in this one life, I've chosen my path and I don't regret it, but still, it would be cool to have all these other experiences.

Do you think anyone despises you?

I'm not really sure. I don't think anyone full-on despises me, but I can think of at least one person who might dislike me. Yet, at the same time, she does like texting once in a while.

Do you like someone right now?

Nope.

Does the future scare you?

Eh, sometimes. It depends, sometimes I feel like I can take on anything, and sometimes I have no idea how I'll make it past 30.

Do you have any secret powers?

Not that I am aware of.

FOUR WHY’S:

Why are you best friends with your best friend(s)?

We've been there for each other through good and bad, it's easy to talk to her about anything, and we are both very different but also match really well.

Why did your parents give you the name you have?

I have no idea lol. I think my dad wanted to name me after my grandpa if I was a boy, my mum was against it, but it didn't matter anyway, because I turned out to be a girl. I mean, Mila can be seen as a shorter version of my grandpa's name, soooo, maybe that's why?

Why did you get a myspace?

I actually never had it lol.

Why are you doing this survey?

This looked fun! I like surveys that have some kind of a theme or a special style or something like that.

THREE IF’S:

If you could have one super power what would it be?

Teleportation because ho boy, I could spend a 15-minute break literally anywhere in the world.

If you could go back in time and change one thing, would you?

I wouldn't after all.

If you could live anywhere, where would it be?

Germany (probably Berlin) or maybe Lisbon. Japan is high up on my list of countries I want to visit, but since I haven't gone there yet, I can't say if I'd like to live there.

TWO WOULD-YOU-EVER’S:

Would you ever shave your head to save someone you love?

Yeah, why not. I mean, hair seems like a small price to pay for someone's life.

Would you ever get back together with any of your exes if they asked you?

Hopefully not.

LAST ONE:

Are you happy with how your life has turned out?

I'm okay with it

[taohs]

I don't want you think I was complaining! I wasn't. I know people have lives away from social media. People do have school and jobs when it comes to normal people anyway.. So I remembered you mentioning it would be a while before you were able to come back on sites again.

And at least I wasn't wrong. School and work is the same for teachers too, I think you might have mentioned you were a teacher before. Not to me. But in general. So it makes more sense. My brain isn't working.

Oh! It was you. You did tell me before because I remember saying you and I were INxJ personalities.. Or some comment similar to that. But I am a INTJ. I could take multiple tests on multiple sites, every result I'll have is the same for me. INTJ, Melancholic-Phlegmatic-Choleric, and 5w4 if we're only going by any basic personality assessments though.

Have you ever heard of the Japanese rock band The GazettE? They're a very well known rock band in the Japanese music industry for many years, over twenty years now. Actually, the song Shiver was the Black Butler season two theme song if you ever watched that season (since I know that season isn't even canonical). The bassist died on the 15th.

The man was young. He was only 42 at the age of death, so he would have been 43 next month. And I know his cause of death won't really be public knowledge either, which is understandable. But I'm curious how he died though. Because his death seemed sudden to everyone.

Between bands disbanding, musicians dying, and other active bands releasing new music.. Definitely a mental and emotional rollercoaster, at least during these months. And it's not officially May yet either.

But yeah. I've been a fan of their music since they first started twenty years ago, so they have been a huge part of my life. The good news is that they're having a tribute concert on his actual birthday, bad news is that I can't go. Though I'm still happy they're continuing as a band.

I have a lot of mixed feelings about everything lately, in general about a lot of things. Not necessarily this. Just thinking about everything.

Yes! Definitely watch Black Sails. There's healthy representation when it comes to the characters, half the characters are queer and also in a lot of relationships too. There's only four seasons. Mostly a happy end to the show (minus some favorite characters dying). And there is also a lot of strong female characters too. Which I know you'll like that too.

It's an old show. But definitely one of my all time favorite series which is especially true for a western series. Since I always complain a lot of western media never lives up to my standards. I think you'll enjoy it.

But as for Parasyte. I've never read the manga but I have watched the anime though.. There is some similarities, but mostly differences. So I have mixed feelings about it. The Korean live adaption show is okay in my opinion. If you decide to watch either show, I'd want your opinion.

And for the Queen Of Tears show. If you wanted to watch the clip, not that you have to. Song Joongki Song as Vincenzo cameo scene.

So this is giving me hope for more Vincenzo seasons or even scenes.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--gQQofSrXY

- 💋

oh don’t worry i wasn’t thinking that at all! i appreciate you for being so understanding <3 yeah work has been burning me out a lot lately but i look forward to summer where i have time to watch my shows and read again!

i haven't heard of The GazettE before, but that's truly tragic that the bassist died so young. i'm sure his friends and family must have been devastated over the news. and his fans! especially when you've been a fan for so long, i can't even imagine how that would feel like. but i hope you have been doing better since then.

black sails sound amazing! i'm looking forward to starting it. there are so many shows that i'm excited to get to after this month is over. as for parasyte, korean adapations always seems to be a hit or miss for me, but i think i might start with kshow first since it's already on netflix. i'll let you know what i think of it whenever i get around to it!

wow!! what a grand entrance by vincenzo. i rarely see crossovers in kshows but that's amazing. it seems like his cameo is getting a lot of welcomed response, so i hope the director grants the fan's wish for a season 2!!

[watchyourdigits]

WIP Wednesday

(I'm not late, I'm just early for next week!!)

Thanks to the amazing @totally-not-deacon for tagging me in this! I finally have an excuse to share a very early rough draft of the Deacon-centric fic I'm working on.

This WIP (the first part of this chapter, anyway) came about because of the Pepe Silvia meme and the way I think about Deacon every time I see it. Oh, and the concepts presented in this video. "I'm in your corner. Always have been." etc. etc.

I'm a Deacon conspiracy theorist because that's what he would have wanted 🤟🏼😔 Anyway, here's the WIP (1.2k words-ish). I'd tag someone but I genuinely don't know who writes and who doesn't, so consider this an open invitation!!

Three Years Earlier

Deacon took a long drag of his cigarette as he stared at the mess of notes and pinned images on the corkboard before him.

Was it an unnecessary method of organization?

Of course.

Did it entertain him to no end?

Oh, most definitely.

Not only that, but it was a welcome distraction from any of the actual work he should have been doing. Things within the Railroad had been slow lately and it was making him antsy. When Deacon got antsy, nothing good came of it.

He'd set up his personal headquarters two years prior, but only recently had made any use of it. That, and the corkboard he'd sneakily "borrowed" from the Switchboard, had been proving useful in his latest project.

For the past year, he'd been researching dead-end leads (according to Dez, anyway) almost nonstop. He'd tried to explain vaguely to Her Highness what he'd been up to upon his most recent check-in with her, but she didn't seem very interested in his insightful wisdom. Typical.

Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

Still, all of this work and nothing to show for it. He'd never admit she was right, but he had to wonder if his efforts were worth it in the long run.

Something was still missing… But what?

"Or who?"

Deacon's eyes widened as the lightbulb in his mind began flickering to life. It wasn't his strongest inclination, but it was there. He crushed out his cigarette in the overfull ashtray, standing quickly and moving to the board.

He shifted a few pins around and moved some of the papers in an effort to paint a clearer picture of heat he was dealing with.

Maybe this wasn't such a bad way to visualize his data after all.

There were many separate incidents and sightings involving the Institute, but they all seemed so tangentially related that he was almost convinced he'd imagined the connection in his head all along.

Almost.

Once satisfied with where he'd placed everything, he took a step back to admire his handiwork.

"Who are you?" he pondered aloud, lighting himself up another smoke as he thought deeply about the information before him.

He brought himself back to the first lead he'd gotten that had sent him on this wild goose chase to begin with.

The old man, demented in his age, would go on incessantly about some vault he'd found while exploring as a kid. His wife couldn't stand how obsessed with it he was. Deacon felt there must be a good reason for him to remember that above anything else. Like the birthdays of his three adult children. Or his own name, for that matter.

"Jenny," the elderly man said, pointing at nothing. "Jenny, look! They're taking a baby from that vault! I wonder if there's people down there?"

"That was well over fifty years ago, Richard. Give it a goddamn rest!"

Deacon almost missed that place - a small old folks home in one of the richer areas between the Capital and the Commonwealth. The amount of reconstructive surgery it had taken to get him back to looking like himself had him out of commission for a whole month. He shuddered a little at the thought.

Never again. Stick to prosthetics and really convincing makeup next time you go anywhere as a geriatric. Or just go as a caregiver instead… Dammit, Deacon, keep your head in the game. Think!

The experience itself had been one he didn't exactly cherish, but the stories he heard had been unbelievable.

Or so he thought.

When he'd asked Richard to tell him more about the vault, he had explained that he'd grown up near it and had seen a man and a woman leaving with a baby in tow. No one ever believed him, but he continued to swear up and down all these years later that he really had seen people leaving the vault.

It was only later than Deacon would connect the dots as to what vault he'd been referring to. It wasn't very far from his own HQ, only about a day's hike. Deacon had decided to set up a small camp there. At the time, he had wondered if perhaps there were people there that no one knew about. The area was rather deserted after all, save a Mr. Handy and some local wildlife.

No one knew much about the vault other than the old man, who croaked within a week of Deacon making his first inquiry.

For one reason or another, Deacon found himself fixated on the tale. A memory that strong had to mean something. He was determined to carry on Richard's legacy (obsession was perhaps more accurate) and prove everyone wrong in the process.

I hear you, Dick. Something isn't right about that vault. We'll show them, don't you worry.

He stared at the points on the board, contemplating them as if they were constellations in the sky and he was some ancient philosopher with the ability to divine a worldly truth from the heavens.

Except he was just an ordinary man, stuck out here rescuing synths from those who wished to exploit them. Yada, yada, yada.

The synths themselves had proven useful over the years. A handful of them were able to corroborate the theory that the Institute had a director. They called him 'Father'. An unimportant detail, of course, but it was always good to have a name for your enemy. It made hating them that much easier.

A lot of the sequences on the board didn't connect. Deacon was merely going off his gut instincts that these things were all correlated somehow.

He'd long since forgotten about his cigarette, only remembering it when it burned the tips of his fingers. He hissed, tossing it into the ashtray and bringing his hand to his mouth to suck on his wounds.

Another revelation struck him then as the pain began to fade into the background.

"Dick, you crazy son of a bitch!"

Deacon laughed to himself as he moved the write-up he had on Richard's mystery vault baby to the center of all the points. The image fell into place so clearly before him, he wasn't sure how it had taken him all these months to compose it.

"Well I'll be damned," he muttered, giving a low whistle at his own discovery.

The baby being 'Father' would only make sense. The vague timeline he'd pieced together from the beginning, with Richard's story, down to more recent information about the existence of 'Father' all slotted together effortlessly. The baby was taken from the vault and, within a year, there were reports of early third gen synths roaming the Commonwealth. Broken Mask was a prime example. An event that still had the people of Diamond City wringing their hands over the invisible boogeyman that was in the Institute.

These days, there was a noteworthy amount of buzz surrounding the vault again. None of the synths the Railroad had come across knew much about it, but the few that did speak of a 'buried treasure' provided all the more reason for Deacon to hold stock in his meticulously crafted theory.

Something was happening within the Institute, and that something most definitely involved the vault. After all this time, what remained in there that could possibly hold the interest of such an elusive, horrifying organization?

Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Deacon gathered some supplies and readied himself to head out to his campsite for another stake-out. This time, he had a purpose for going aside from peaceful contemplation (and some private drinking).

This time, he was going to be doing actual research in the form of sitting around and waiting for something - or someone - to emerge from the vault.

[itgirlification]

supermodel (2) | jjk

your story with jungkook never seems to end, yet you’re still worried about how it’s gonna end.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: TOXIC (i cannot stress this enough shit is hella toxic), yn is kinda (very) dumb, jungkook is an actual asshole, borderline mental abuse, infidelity, more insecuritiiiies, mentions/hints of sex, etc.

part one part three

There you were in his arms again, with only your panties and his shirt on.

At this point, you couldn’t even explain yourself. You were guilty, but you know what they say; love hurts.

With his arms wrapped around you and you clinging to him like that, you couldn’t care less about what was gonna happen next. You knew you were probably gonna have a mental breakdown when you go back to the dorms but for now, you were okay.

After he came over that night, he contacted you again. He said he didn’t want this to be serious, he wanted it to be a solely sexual relationship.

“You know, you’re the first girl I’ve been with, who seems to like getting hurt and degraded”, he sighs against your hair. “Sometimes I feel like you can’t get enough of it.”

You stayed silent. What were you supposed to do anyway? Tell him he’s right and stay like this for a while or react defensively and start an endless argument? You chose the first one.

“You’re the only woman that’d let me do all this stuff and still love me. Maybe that’s why I came back to you.”

Holding back the tears, you cling closer to his larger body, as if you were using him as some kind of shield. He thought you were an easy target and forgiving. What else would a man want from a woman he was only interested in fucking, a side piece? Even if she’s in love with him, she was gonna ignore that just to spend as much time with him as possible.

“It’s not like you actually came back.”, you responded, keeping your voice as stable as you could. “We’re just fucking.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, most likely noticing your petty undertone. “Don’t be like that. We aren’t fucking right now.”

You weren’t sure what point exactly he was trying to prove, you agreed to be his side chick. Did he think you didn’t know what a side chick was supposed to do? Because you did know, you just secretly thought you guys were meant to be, you weren’t just some side piece.

Looking around the motel room, your stomach began feeling weird. He wasn’t usually cheap, but you guessed he thought a side chick didn’t deserve a better environment than a cheap motel room rent for a night.

“Because we literally just did.”, you calmly said. You weren’t trying to piss him off.

But Jungkook wasn’t having it. Out of nowhere, he shoved you aside and put his hands over his face, noticeably frustrated.

“What happened?”, you weren't sure if asking that was the best option.

Jungkook turns his body to you. “What happened?? You keep on fucking me up and being a bitch about all this and you ask me what happened?”

He was so furious, his eyes were dark and his face was screwed up. You were now both standing, his tall figure towering over yours.

You saw his hand forming a fist and it would’ve been a lie if you said you weren’t terrified. He hasn’t touched you once throughout your relationship, but you never know.

“I didn’t even say anything. Maybe you’re just a little too sensitive.”, you were pouring salt on a wound at this point, but you didn’t want to be weak and let him talk to you like that.

“Me, sensitive?”, his tone was dangerously serene, as he leaned closer to your face. “If I wasn’t here with you, you'd probably still be crying over me. And you know where I’d be? Laying in bed with the beautiful model I have the privilege to call my girlfriend. Yn, I don’t need you. Don’t get bold with me, ‘cause we both know who’s gonna be heartbroken in the end.”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, what did you get yourself into again? This wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, this wasn’t anybody’s fault but yours. You should’ve never opened up, you should’ve never said yes to being his side piece, you should’ve never been his girlfriend, to begin with. You stayed silent, but your loud sniffs and your uneven breathing said more than you could at the moment.

“I’m leaving.”, he announced coldly before throwing his black leather jacket over his broad shoulders, leaving you half-naked, crying on the poor-quality motel bed you just had sex on. When he got out of the motel room, you looked outside of the small window, watching him leave in the car he drove you here with.

Now, you had no other option than to call Jane to pick you up since your dorm was a half an hour walk away from the motel and you didn’t have the energy to walk for even a minute.

You weren’t sure if you had the energy for all the questions Jane was gonna ask you when she sees your mascara smeared face and your messy hair. Not to mention the motel. You weren’t a motel type of girl and she knew that.

Still, you called her and she answered almost immediately. “Yn? What happened? I thought you were gonna sleepover at your parents’?”

Sleepover at your parents’ house? You had almost forgotten the bad lie you told Jane just to have sex with Jungkook in this cheap-ass motel. And to think you were convinced you two were gonna stay the whole night.

“Uh”, you quickly coughed to cover up the voice cracks you got from crying. “Yeah, it’s a long story, please pick me up. I’ll text you the address.”

About 10 minutes later, Jane arrived and looked at you like you were out of your mind when you got into the car. “Yn, what the fuck? I was so worried about you. And this isn’t your parents’ house, this is a fucking motel. Did you meet a guy? Did he do something to you? Should I call the cops?”

“No, no, no, oh my god, please don’t”, you knew she was gonna ask a lot of questions. “I lied to you. So what actually happened was me and Jungkook reconnected an-“

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was Jungkook. So I’m guessing he left you here?”

You hesitantly nodded.

“So when were you gonna tell me you ‘reconnected’ with him? When did you even ‘reconnect’ with him?”, she mockingly asked you. You weren’t blaming her for being pissed off, you’d have been too in this situation.

“A month ago? I think..”, you muttered.

“Hm”, Jane nodded, sighing at your naivety. “And when did he even break up with his model chick?”

You awkwardly looked away and Jane was hoping it wasn’t because of what she thought.

“He didn’t break up with her??”, Jane was beyond frustrated. “So.. you’re like his side chick now? Are we gonna stoop that low for men, yn?”

Jane always wanted the best for you and you knew she knew what was the best for you too, you were just too foolish. And too in love with a man you can’t force into loving you again.

“I know but please can we not talk about this right now? I just don’t feel like it.”, you asked, looking down on your fingers, ashamed of yourself.

“Alright, I’m sorry, babe.”, Jane hugged your side quickly, before starting the engine and heading back to the dorm. “You know I just want what’s best for you.”

You nodded, looking out of the window with your head full.

_

“Bella just texted me and said her birthday party will be 90s themed? Can’t she be a little more specific?”, Jane barged into the room, looking down on her phone in disbelief.

Bella was a person you two met at college in one of your shared classes. She was a sweetheart, but she was a little spoiled too. The only reason why she got into the college was that her rich daddy bribed them, but you couldn’t be mad, your parents would’ve done the same if they had the money.

She was extremely extroverted, a people person. She probably never had a boring day in her life with all the parties she threw whenever her dad and his 20 something-year-old girlfriend were on vacation or business trips. She even had some celebrity friends and would just casually post selfies with them on her Instagram story like it was a normal thing to do. She was basically living the dream, clueless about what real life for others really was about.

Jane had a love-hate relationship with Bella ever since they met. She thought Bella was a nice girl, but it was ‘unbearable’ to have a conversation with her because she was too self-centered to talk about anything else than herself.

You shrugged. “Just wear something Aaliyah would’ve worn.”

“Hm. Fair enough. It’s really not all that deep, actually.”, She said. “So what are you gonna wear?”

“I don’t even know if I’m going, Bella’s parties are boring.”, you answered honestly.

You really weren’t sure if you’d go. You did feel like seeing people and having a little fun but it wasn’t like you ever had fun at any of Bella’s parties. One time, a guy puked all over a new dress you bought just for the party, and another time, you were forced to drink 4 beer bottles. You hated beer.

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun and you’re coming.”, she decided for you, making you playfully roll your eyes. “And wear that black latex dress, I haven’t seen it on you in forever.”

To say that Jane was a fashionista would be an understatement. She was too invested in fashion to be bothered with anything else.

“Alright, but only if we don’t stay for long.”, you tried to compromise with her.

She nodded. “We gotta buy her presents though. Is there even anything she doesn’t have?”

You sighed, annoyed. “C’mon, there’s gonna be at least 200 people at that party, it’s not like she’ll notice if we just don’t get her anything. Besides, she’s rich as fuck.”

Jane snickered at your comment. “Girl, you must not know her, she checks every damn person and probably throws them out if they don’t buy her a Chanel bag or something. Bitch is a little crazy.”

It was amusing because you both knew that was exaggerated. Bella wasn't that serious about gifts. But let’s just say, for the money that her dad had, she was a little too greedy.

But you were too bothered with your own life than to worry about other's.

_

As soon as you arrived at Bella’s mansion, two security guards were standing in front of the door. They let you in as you showed them your invitations. It was a little bit extra, but that’s just how Bella was.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the house was the smell of sweat and weed. Already? You weren’t really surprised though.

Bella was standing there, wearing a skintight red dress that, ironically, didn’t really fit her own party’s theme. But she did look absolutely beautiful greeting her guests with the biggest smile on her glowing face. She had her strawberry blonde hair down in elegant beach curls and there were some cute butterfly clips placed in them.

You could recognize that it was her birthday from miles away. She was basically shining.

“Oh my god, Jane, Yn!! I’m so happy to see you guys!”, an overly keen Bella came, hugging you both with strength. “Oh, I see you got me something, girls you know you shouldn’t have!”

She tried hiding her smile at the bags in your hands, freeing the two of you from them immediately.

“It’s your birthday, Bella. We can’t just come here without any gifts, girl.”, Jane smiled. “Happy birthday.”

You looked to your side, admiring Jane’s acting skills. “Happy birthday, Bella! I can’t believe you’re 23 now.”

“I know right, if you were a year younger, you’d be as old as your dad’s girlfriend.”, Jane joked around, making Bella hysterically laugh.

“C’mon, almost everybody’s here already”, Bella excitedly pushed you towards the living room.

The room’s stench was even more unbearable than the one at the entrance, leaving you covering your nose for a second leaving out an ‘oof’.

The 90s trap music was heard extremely loudly through the whole house and there were people dancing and grinding. There were some couples that sat on one of the many couches, acting like they were in their own little world. It wasn’t very pleasant to watch, but you just chose to ignore it. The stench was something you couldn’t ignore though.

You were already bored out of your mind.

A few minutes of pure boredom and dry conversations passed then the music stopped playing and you could hear Bella’s voice calling for everybody’s attention. “I’m gonna open the presents now, so everybody come here and Daphne, please bring the gifts here so I can open them.”

Daphne was Bella’s personal maid. She never really talked, but she did everything she needed to. She brought all the bags to Bella one by one and you could’ve sworn she was trying not to cry out of happiness.

“Oh my god, Jackson”, She cried out as she pulled a pair of Saint Laurent shoes out of a box. “These are so beautiful. You even got the right size. Thank you so mu-“

“Bella, I’m so sorry we’re late, we had to run some errands”, a soft-spoken voice interrupted, making everybody in the room turn her way, just to see the charming model with none other than Jeon Jungkook by her side. Wow.

As soon as you turned your head to see who it was, you turned back around, looking at Jane to make sure she saw what you saw. You sent her a questioning, almost panicking look just for her to shrug.

“Yuki! It’s fine, girl. Come here, I’m opening my presents right now.”, The birthday girl exclaimed, making Yuki immediately hand her her gift.

Jungkook was just walking behind his girlfriend, making no type of noise whatsoever and you prayed he wouldn’t see you.

They sat down at an angle where you couldn’t help but look at them though and you were sure he looked at you for a split second as well. They looked beautiful together.

Bella just continued opening gifts and thanking everybody dearly, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You just zoned out for most of it. Those were a lot of gifts she got.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at your ex-boyfriend and the girl besides him.

She looked even cuter in real life. Her cheeks had a natural blush to them and her hair was long and healthy. She was thin and her skin tone was warm and even.

You’ve always been insecure about your hyperpigmentation, but she didn’t seem to have any problems with how she looked. She was near damn perfect. Perfect wasn’t real, but if it was, it’d be her.

Jungkook probably never had a problem introducing her to his parents or his friends. You always felt like he had difficulties with that while he was dating you. He just wasn’t confrontational enough to tell you he was ashamed to have you as his girlfriend.

You seemed to be stuck in your place while everybody else was either dancing or making conversation.

Jane was sitting next to you, talking to a girl with blond box braids about a new movie that recently came out. You heard what they were saying, but it sounded like a foreign language to you since you weren’t focused.

“Yn? Are you okay?”, Jane whispered in your ear, hugging your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were invited.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jane. It’s not your fault, I just kind of wanna go home.”

She looked at you apologetically. “Can’t we stay for a little while? I promise it won’t take long, I’m just actually having fun here.”

You had to admit you were being selfish, not just in that moment, but whenever it came to Jungkook. You’ve dragged Jane through all of your shit and never really thought about how she must feel like.

Nodding in response to her. “I’m gonna get myself something to drink.”

You finally stood up from your place, looking around unsure, feeling like you’re taking up so much space wherever you go, even when you were doing absolutely nothing.

You wore the latex dress, but only because Jane insisted and made sure you knew you looked good. She convinced you for maybe a second, but all those insecurities were coming back. You tried sucking in your stomach the whole night, but it just wasn’t enough.

You were asking yourself all kinds of questions. If your arms looked too fat and if your cellulite was visible, if your hip-dips were as noticeable to others as they were to you. You felt like everybody was looking and they were judging really hard.

All you wanted was to fade into oblivion.

You were feeling his eyes on your back and god, you wanted to look too but you fought the urge, just continued walking to the bathroom. You weren’t in the mood to drink after all.

Your gut feeling was telling you he was following, but you ignored it.

Until you were about to close the bathroom door and you saw black timberlands stepping between the door and the doorframe to stop you from closing it.

You sighed, opening the door, resulting in him getting in the bathroom with you.

“Why are you avoiding me?”, the handsome man facing you asked, brown eyes looking deep inside of yours.

“How can I avoid you when you didn’t even try talking to me?”, you asked back, looking away immediately.

You hated how your relationship was just a cycle of him hurting you and coming back, acting like he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he was so good at it too.

He chuckled darkly, letting his eyes glide down your body for a second just to look back into your eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, yn. Don’t play dumb.”

You did know what he meant.

“And? It’s not like I have anything to say to you.”

Jungkook came closer to you, softly wrapping one arm around your waist, whispering in your ear. “You don’t?”

You couldn’t believe how shameless he was, being so close to you while his girlfriend was a few meters away, outside of this door, probably thinking he’s getting her a drink or something. You wondered if he did the same thing to you when you were dating.

“Jungkook, stop. Your girlfriend is here.”, you tried to convince yourself you didn’t want it. “How can you even do this?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before, princess.”, He kissed your earlobe. “You can’t possibly think it’s okay when she’s not around, but not okay when she is. It’s the same thing.”

You knew he was right, besides, you were just as guilty as he was. You were messing around with a taken guy and the worst part was, you knew he was taken and you still did it.

“I know, but I wanna end whatever this is”, you hesitated to say. “It’s unhealthy and you already have a girlfriend, why don’t you go and kiss her, why me?”

You were avoiding this conversation ever since this started. Sometimes it’s hard talking about things you don’t actually want to hear about.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook feigned confusion, but you knew better than to believe him. “It’s easier said than done, yn. We have a history together, you know that.”

“I do, but that’s all we are. History. And we should both get over it.”, you responded.

“But what if I don’t want to?”, it was more of a statement than a question, really. “What if I told you, you’re special to me?”

You were gonna have a meltdown if he continued with this. Why was he so fucking complicated? You knew he didn’t love you so what was it?

“But I’m not. The only reason why you come back is because you think I’m easy material. It’s because you were my first everything and it’s because you know exactly how much you mean to me.”, you cry out, tears coming up to ruin your makeup again. You wished you wouldn’t cry as much as you did. “You know I’ll always let you in, no matter what. I know I’m at fault too here and I’m not blaming you, but please for god’s sake, don’t make it worse on me.”

You looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. You felt detached from reality, but not in a good way at all.

Jungkook scoffed, looking down at you. “I know I shouldn’t have tried talking to you. It’s like you can’t even appreciate anybody showing you affection. I’m trying to prove to you, that you aren’t nothing to me and that’s the response that I get. Not everybody’s against you, yn, you’re just too insecure to notice. That’s why you haven’t ever had anybody showing you interest. It’s because you lack confidence and think the world revolves around you. But I did show you interest. In the past and now. But look at you. You haven’t changed at all, still the little yn who compares herself to other girls and thrives off of male attention, because you can’t believe that somebody could love you just for you when there’s skinnier, prettier girls walking around. So what if there are skinnier, prettier girls around? That’s reality, yn.”

You didn’t know what exactly you expected him to say, but that wasn’t it. Looking at him with big, teary eyes, is that really what he thought of you? Of course, it was. Because it was the truth. The cold, hard truth. Not sugarcoated. He knew you better than you wanted him to.

Without a single word leaving your dry lips, you open the door and run out, ignoring him calling your name and the weird stares people were giving you. You needed to find Jane.

Once you found her joking around with a bunch of random people, you go up to her. You most likely looked like you came out of a horror movie.

“Yn? What the fuck happened?”, she lightly took your face in her warm hands and caressed your cheek worriedly.

“Pl- please, can we just go home?”, you whimpered, thankful that everybody was respectful enough to turn around and focus on their stuff instead of ogling at you.

“Sure, sure. Come here”, she took you in her arms and walked you out of the mansion, not caring to say goodbye to anybody.

_

people who wanted to get tagged in pt. 2:

@1-in-abillion @sarcasmflowsinmyveins @chieftoadturkeynickel @madygswich @kb-bangtanenthusiast

thank you for the support love yall!! 💗

a/n: so i know most of yall probably wanted a happy ending but first of all this probably isn’t the ending:) and i wanted to portray it as realistically as possible. It’s really hard to get out of a toxic relationship especially when you’re so in love with them but i’ll see what i can do to make yn happy cuz girly’s going thru it. Btw this wasn’t proofread so there’s probably so many mistakes and i thought this was very underwhelming but i hope you guys like it thank you!

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Eight // Wanda Maximoff

chapter seven | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter nine

author’s note: Y/C/N = your cousin’s name, also this is later than I wanted today but i’ve been super busy so sorry for that! Also, I’ll be responding to comments from the last one as soon as I’m free. Enjoy 😊

"...okay, so now use the water to dilute the colour."

I did as Wanda said, dipping my brush in the glass of water and diluting the watercolour I was using, but I must have used too much because it made the paint run and then the paper started to get too damp to hold together.

Wanda facepalmed, sighing as I smiled sheepishly.

"My bad...?"

She glared playfully before ripping a page from her sketchbook. "Try again, milaya (darling). And use less water this time."

I squinted in the sun as I glanced at her. "Can't you just accept I'm not very good at painting? Or art in general?"

She shook her head, taking the torn page from my grasp and replacing it with a new one. "No way. You're not getting out of it that easily. It's not hard, I promise!"

I groaned lightheartedly. "You said that about drawing. And about using acrylics. And about using chalk."

"And I'm saying it about this, now c'mon, try again," she encouraged with an amused smile before returning to her own painting.

We were sat in my garden, hanging out and making the most of the lovely day we were having. The Spring breeze was getting warmer as we transitioned into Summer and it was a nice change of pace from the usual bad weather we had. So nice that Wanda wanted to do some painting and also teach me how to. But art was never my strong suit and I'm sure she knew that but still proceeded to try anyway.

Sketching out the tree before us for the third time today, I attempted to provide an outline that I could eventually fill in with green watercolours. Unlike Wanda though, it wasn't fun. My eyes veered over to her and I smiled to myself as I admired the look of concentration on her face – her 'art' look, I dubbed it. It was this very specific expression she got whenever she worked on a painting or drawing, and it always reminded me of that first time I saw it, after we met in the stationary store and when she took me back to her room. Absolutely wonderful.

"I don't hear a pencil moving," she said, not looking up but beginning to smile.

"That's because I'm looking for... what did you call it?" I racked my brain, thinking back to the day in the store when she talked about inspiration. "Vdokhoventi?"

A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. Attempting not to laugh, she tilted her head adorably. "Vdokhnoveniye."

I quirked a brow. "Is that not what I said?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "Definitely not."

I grinned, shrugging. "Well, that's what I meant."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not it, so eyes on your page."

"Oh, how dearly mistaken you are, love," I said quietly, leaning close and giving her a knowing smile.

She looked up, expression softening with a smile. Her eyes were heavenly, pupils dilated as she squinted in the sun, and they flickered to my lips before she settled on nudging me in the shoulder slightly. I snickered, leaning my head on her shoulder since everybody thought we were as close as best friends, so it wouldn't look suspicious. She sighed contently, letting me watch as she moved her paintbrush, painting a flower that was peeking through the grass we were sat on.

I could have stayed there forever, in that moment, sitting with Wanda and watching her paint under the sun. But of course, all good things come to an end when you don't want them to.

"Y/N, dear," I heard my father call, and when I looked up, I saw him approaching Wanda and I from the direction of our house.

Straightening up, I watched as he attempted to sit on the grass, but his legs were too long and he struggled to cross them. With a hearty chuckle, he stretched them out, slightly bent, and leaned on his hands.

"I'm getting too old for this, ladies," he said humorously, making Wanda and I smile.

"What d'you need, dad?" I asked, raising my brows.

"I just wanted to check in and see if you were ready for tonight," he said casually, making me furrow my brows. He seemed to notice my confusion, prompting, "Tonight? Your cousin's birthday party?"

"My cousin's what-now?"

He sighed, massaging the point between his brows. "Y/C/N? They organised this months ago. We're all expected to be there." His glanced to Wanda. "You, too, dear."

Wanda hummed, pulling her gaze from her painting and looking to my dad. "Yes, I'm aware. Got my dress ready and everything."

My eyes snapped to Wanda's with surprise. "You knew about this?!"

"You should be more like her," my dad muttered, as Wanda smiled with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

I looked back to my father. "I was planning on helping Y/B/N with his manuscript tonight."

My dad waved his hand. "I've already talked to him. He's agreed to work on it before the party starts so you're both on time."

I groaned, already tired at the sound of yet another party. Did it ever end?

"Don't be late," he ordered, though his voice was anything but stern. Cue another groan. He smiled before looking to Wanda's painting. "Wow, that's great, dear. Apparently you've got Y/N here attempting to do the same?"

Wanda chuckled as she handed him my several failed attempts. "Key word being 'attempting'."

He accepted the pages and stifled a smile of amusement. "Wow... maybe you should stick to writing, Y/N."

I ripped the pages from his grasp. "Cheers, dad, really."

He laughed before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. "It's all in good faith, dear. Now remember. Don't be late tonight, okay?"

I sighed, which he took as my response, before pushing himself off the grass with a grumble. Dusting his trousers, he nodded to Wanda and I before leaving us be.

"You could've told me I had yet another party to attend tonight," I told Wanda with narrowed eyes.

She shrugged, smiling helplessly. "I thought you knew."

I laid back on the grass with a dramatic sigh. "I just don't understand why our life revolves around extravagant parties, balls and dinners."

"That's just how it is, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said with a warm smile.

I looked up at the sky, raising my hand to shield the sun from my eyes, though my heart fluttered at one of the many nicknames she called me in Russian. "I'd rather live in the middle of nowhere. Where nobody expects anything of me and there's no stupid parties to attend."

She rested a hand on my leg before laying beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. I relaxed my head on hers, appreciating how well we fit together.

"Same here," she agreed, making me gasp playfully.

"What? Don't you love the glitz and glamour?"

She laughed quietly. "I do, but I like the peace and quiet more."

I breathed out, fingertips brushing hers. "Maybe I can be a little late tonight... accidentally run over time so I don't have to stay as long."

Her fingers tugged on mine between us as a warning. "No. I'll be left alone and I'll be bored. And when I'm bored, I drink."

It was my turn to laugh. "You won't be alone, Wanda. You'll have Pietro."

She shifted so she was no longer leaning on my shoulder but instead tilting her head to look my way. "I want you."

I turned my head and gave her a small, promising smile. "I'll try to be on time."

She quirked a brow. "Try? You will."

My eyes flittered away, ready to argue otherwise, but she sat up and grabbed her paintbrush. I sat up, too, ready to tell her I would try, but I flinched when she flicked water towards me from the tip of it.

"Are you serious?" I asked, wiping the water from my eyelids with tongue-in-cheek.

She chuckled and I grabbed my paintbrush and did the same, watching her squirm when it flicked on her face.

Suppressed smile on her face, she wiped away the water and glared with dazzling eyes. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, milaya (darling)."

Smiling from ear to ear, I quirked a brow devilishly. "Oh?"

"You're so lucky we're in front of people," she said lowly, leaning close enough to be platonic, but her hand slipped under my dress and creeped up my leg, making me involuntarily shiver. "Or you would be in serious trouble."

I stopped her hand from going any higher, the rings on her fingers cold enough for me to not melt under her touch. "I highly doubt that, love."

She held my gaze, intoxicating and mesmerising all at once. A sly smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Don't test me then. You heard your father. Don't be late."

I exhaled, licking my lips. "Fine. I won't be."

—

Later that afternoon, I found myself sat in my brother's study as the two of us worked on his latest manuscript together. It was a love story, his (my) specialty, and I was helping him to sort out his sentence structure when he decided to question me.

"Will you entertain me for a moment?" he asked randomly, making me look up from the pages.

"I'll probably regret it, but go on," I said jokingly, before looking back down and adding some notes to the paper.

His chair creaked as he leaned back, eyes watching me thoughtfully. "Are you in a secret relationship?"

I almost choked on my spit as he asked this, heart dropping to my stomach with panic. He couldn't know about Wanda, right? We'd been so careful.

Thankfully, I played it off well as I merely glanced his way before distracting myself with note-taking.

"Why would you think that, Y/B/N?" I asked like he was insane.

He shrugged in my peripheral. "I don't know... I've been wondering for a while. You've just loosened up so much more. And you're not as uptight as you usually are."

"Cheers," I said sarcastically.

He leaned forward, head resting in his palm. "This all happened right about the time I met Wanda..."

I swallowed hard, quirking a brow at him to play down my panic.

"I saw you with Pietro the other week," he continued, and I could finally breathe when I realised what he was insinuating. "I'm happy if you're happy, Y/N, but I'm not a fan of you sleeping with my publisher."

At that thought, I shuddered and proceeded to shove Y/B/N on the arm. "Don't say that. And I would never."

Just your fiancé, I thought guiltily.

"Good," he said with relief, straightening up. "Because you're not supposed to do that until you get married."

I rolled my eyes dismissively in response, but wondered if that still applied in a world where one was not allowed to marry the person they loved.

Y/B/N gave me a reassuring glance. "Look, I'm okay with it, I guess. But I'd appreciate the heads up so I can give him a stern talking to."

Realising there was a hint of mirth in his voice, I looked up and gave him a warning look. "Don't you dare."

He laughed, patting me on the back, to which I shrugged off with annoyance.

"It's the Maximoff charm," he commented knowingly. "The twins have that effect on people, don't they? Wanda sure has it on me."

A short silence fell after he said that and I chewed on my lip curiously, unable to stop myself from speaking until it was too late.

"Is her love reciprocated?"

He looked down to me from his daydream, no doubt of Wanda. "Pardon?"

Knowing there was no backing down from the conversation now, I avoided his eyes. "The engagement between you both was arranged... you're clearly in love with her, but is it returned?"

His lips twitched into a frown. "I'd hope so."

I hummed, diverting my attention away from him and to the pen in my hand.

"Why? Did she say something?" he asked, voice laden with worry.

"Of course not," I reassured him.

"But you'd tell me if she did?" he asked eagerly.

I looked his way and saw him peering down at me, hanging onto my response. I nodded lamely, which seemed to put him at ease as he sank into his chair with relief.

We spent the next few hours working on the manuscript without a hitch, but I noticed the time and realised the party was already in full swing. Wanda's words came to mind and I hoped she wouldn't be too annoyed at my lateness.

"We're wrapping it up now, don't worry," Y/B/N said, noticing me check the clock. "Thanks for the help. I'm gonna get this to my editor tomorrow. Your amendments should help make the process go a lot smoothly."

I hummed in response, feeling a heaviness settle on my shoulders as he mentioned his editor. It was always the same routine – I helped him with his manuscript, he got it edited, got his book published and got all the credit. And I was stuck in the same position, wishing I could do the same.

"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, sensing my mood.

Playing with the corner of the manuscript, I met his gaze. "I help you with your writing, but I never get anything from it."

"You get to help me," he pointed out, not seeing the issue. "Isn't that enough?"

Pietro's offer came to mind as I said, "What if I wrote my own book? And got published with my name on the cover?"

He squinted as he studied me, trying to find the humour in my words. Letting out a laugh, he shook his head.

"Y/N, that's absurd."

I raised my eyebrows hopefully. "I mean, is it? Would that be so bad?"

He pressed his lips together and breathed out through his nose. Resting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me a condescending look.

"I'm saying this because I care," he said, making me feel like crap. "But yes."

As if I didn't already know the answer, I asked, "Why?"

He motioned with his hand like it was obvious. "Because. People would look at you differently. You'd be undesirable. You know men don't like smart women. I'm just looking out for you as your brother."

I looked away, the bitterness at his words stinging more than usual. "Well, I like smart women."

Thinking I was joking, he chuckled. "Don't go saying things like that. One might misinterpret."

My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard, trying to contain my frustration.

"You can do this every now and then," he said, referring to the manuscript, "but any more isn't possible. Besides, two authors in one family? That's insane."

I forced a smile, but I wondered if his last comment was the real reason he wouldn't let me at least try to get published.

"Anyway, never mind that," he said indifferently. "We should probably head out. Dad is not going to be pleased. Especially since I promised we wouldn't be late."

I nodded, sliding my chair out and wanting to be anywhere but here right now. "Yeah, come on."

He gave me a sneaky smile. "Can't wait to see Pietro?"

I slapped him on the arm before standing up, ignoring his laughter. Nothing to make an already-depressing night worse than going to a party you didn't care for.

—

Wanda Maximoff was a very difficult drunk to be around, I'd learnt that the hard way.

As soon as Y/B/N and I rolled up to my cousin's house, a third of the guests were drunk and the rest were tipsy. A typical Y/L/N get-together. Y/B/N was instantly dragged away by some family whilst I was quick to make myself scarce, attempting to find Wanda. But the place was bustling with people and there were way too many rooms to check.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

"If you're expecting a brand new fountain pen, you won't find it in there," I teased, making him jump.

He sighed when he looked my way, realising it was me. "I know that. But there's nothing better here to do, so I may as well know what freebies we'll be getting by the end of it."

I smirked. "Anything good?"

He shrugged, seeming disappointed. "Just some chocolate and perfume samples."

Holding back a smile, I said, "How tragic."

"If you're looking for my sister, she's over there," he said, nodding behind me. "You'll love this one."

"What do you mean?" I asked, brows knitted with confusion, before turning around and following his gaze.

Wanda was indeed stood on the other side of the dining room and I could just about make her out between idle guests. She was chatting to some woman, hands moving erratically and with expression, a grin on her lips.

"What is she doing?" I asked unsurely, tearing my eyes from her and looking to Pietro.

He was withholding laughter as he answered, "Sometimes, dear Y/N, my beloved twin sister gets drunk when she's–"

"Bored," I finished, remembering what she told me this morning. My face dropped as I mumbled, "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh indeed," Pietro said, grinning at his sister's dismay. "Drunk Wanda is a very truthful Wanda. So, any secrets of hers will most definitely be revealed tonight."

Pietro was too caught up in his own amusement to notice my eyes widening.

"One of our servants made me a platter a few years ago," Pietro explained, oblivious to my panic. "It was a delicious cheese platter, the cheese having been imported from France. Then, Wanda proceeded to eat it without telling me. When I asked if she did, she lied. And I only discovered she lied because she got drunk a few weeks later and bragged about how good the cheese was."

Continuing to ramble, though this time in Russian, Pietro complained about said incident, though I wasn't listening as I watched Wanda talk to the woman enthusiastically. I could only imagine what secrets she was sharing.

"Pietro!" I cut him off, earning his attention. "Shouldn't you do something? To stop Wanda?"

The cheese platter story long forgotten, his grin reappeared on his lips. "Nah, it's funny watching her make a fool of herself."

I gave him a look of disbelief before looking back to Wanda, who was laughing at something by herself. The woman she was speaking to seemed partially confused, but smiled to be polite. I gulped, before shaking my head.

"I'm not that mean," I said to Pietro before making a move to stop her.

Pietro booed me playfully, but I ignored him and approached the drunk brunette, managing to catch her conversation.

"–and they're usually such catty bitch–"

"Wanda!" I immediately cut her off, bumping into her side slightly to get her attention. "There you are!"

Green eyes widened with excitement as they met mine. "Y/N! You're here!"

Ignoring her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close before looking to the guest she was talking with.

"My apologies for her behaviour," I said with an awkward smile, hoping Wanda hadn't revealed anything suspicious.

"No need to apologise, dear," the woman said with an amused smile. "Wanda here was telling me all about how lovely of a sister-in-law you are. Or will be."

Wanda grinned, looking to me and leaning in so close that her nose brushed my cheek. "Yeah, she is," she continued to the woman, though her eyes were on mine. "She's sweet, not like other people make out their sister-in-laws to be."

My face was warm as I cleared my throat and smiled once more to the woman. "If you'll excuse Wanda and I."

The woman barely got out a nod before I dragged Wanda away, trying to keep her lips away from my neck (she was also an extremely clingy drunk). Tugging her into the bathroom down the hall, I closed the door behind us and released a breath of relief, grateful for the escape from guests.

"You look very sexy when you're worried," Wanda complimented, stepping forward and smiling dazedly.

"Wanda–"

She placed her hand on my jaw, moving closer so that her lips were grazing mine as she mumbled, "You came late, milaya (darling). But I still love you."

I'd like to say that I had the willpower to push her away and scold her for acting so obvious about us before, but my lips went numb as she captured them between hers. I could taste the alcohol on her lips as she moved them against mine, making me dizzy and forgetting what I was going to say. Her thumb caressed my jaw and I relaxed under her touch, hands resting on her chest. When she tried to part my lips with her tongue, I seemed to come to my senses.

"Wanda, you're drunk," I muttered, pushing her back gently.

She chased down my mouth again, sucking on my lip and tilting my head back so she could have better access. I tried not to let her win as I kissed her briefly before pulling away. Clouded hazel eyes met mine with a matching smirk.

"You're such a tease," she whispered, her accent thicker than usual and making my stomach flip uncontrollably. Her thumb traced my lips as she continued, "You shouldn't do that when I already know how you taste, moya lyubov' (my love)."

The way she was staring at me made me flustered in place, and she seemed to notice her effect on me as she winked my way.

Shaking my head and trying not to let her win, I said, "Look, Wanda. I'm sorry for being late. But did you really have to get drunk?"

She shrugged, leaning her weight on my shoulder with her hand. "If you hadn't kept me waiting, then I wouldn't have."

I sighed, looking to her apologetically. "I didn't realise the time."

A permanent troublesome smile was fixed on her lips as she watched me.

"Your brother told me how you can be when you get drunk," I said with mild concern, hoping she'd register my seriousness. "You need to be careful, Wanda. We can't have people finding out about us."

"It seems to me," she began agonisingly slowly, lacing her arms around my shoulders, "that you'll have to watch me all night to make sure I don't do anything out of line."

Determined not to play into her teasing, I maintained her gaze with a stern stare. "It seems I'll have to."

She bit her lip, eyes flickering between mine, before leaning further into my ear. In a whispered voice, she said, "That means you can't leave my side, printsessa (princess)."

I clenched my jaw, ready to agree, but a gasp escaped my lips as hers sucked on my earlobe, teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin. Stupid Wanda and her stupid flirting and stupid attractiveness.

"Wanda!" I scolded, though my cheeks were flushed as I pushed her away gently.

She laughed adorably, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "What?"

"You have to behave," I told her, swallowing hard and trying not to let her teasing smile get to me. "You can't do this out there. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed in a way that wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

I rolled my eyes before grabbing her hand and leading her back outside the bathroom, returning to the party. I wasn't planning on leaving her side for the rest of the evening, even if Y/B/N wanted to be with her. The last thing I wanted was for her cute drunken self to reveal something she couldn't take back.

To my relief, she kind of behaved after that. There were times when she would get a little too touchy to be platonic, but a quick stare set her straight. Y/B/N wasn't around much, as when he did join us, he was immediately pulled away by some family friends who wanted to discuss his books. For once, I was glad he was an author, afraid of what would happen if Wanda got too comfortable in his presence.

At one point though, he was able to join Wanda, Pietro and I at a standing table, relief flooding his expression when nobody called after him. His arm wrapped around Wanda's waist and he kissed the top of her head, making me look the other way with distaste. She scrunched her nose up at the action before distracting herself with a drink. I gave her a knowing look, having told her earlier to stop with the alcohol. She pretended not to see me.

"Sorry I've not been able to spend time with you tonight," he said to Wanda, oblivious to her tipsy state.

"It's almost like it's your birthday and not your cousin's," Pietro joked, smiling at him.

My brother chuckled. "I guess. They just all wanna talk about my manuscript."

"Ah, yes, the reason you were late, right?" Wanda asked, eyes falling to mine.

"I'm sorry," my brother apologised, assuming it was him she was speaking to.

"You were helping him, too, right?" Pietro asked, looking to me curiously. "Maybe I'll finally get a glance at your work."

I narrowed my eyes at him, having figured he'd put the subject to rest after last time. He merely grinned in response, finding joy in messing with me, just like his sister. Before I could say anything, my brother beat me to it.

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

So he was jealous. Wow.

"You don't need to hide your relationship, y'know," he continued when I didn't respond, looking to Pietro.

The silver-haired publisher choked on his drink as he looked to my brother, clearly very amused.

"I know you're together," Y/B/N said with agitation. "Everybody does. And don't get me wrong, Pietro, I respect you as a publisher."

I groaned quietly, closing my eyes with embarrassment. When I opened them, Pietro was watching my brother with an entertained smile, meanwhile, Wanda was looking between them with a twitching frown.

"But if you're going to date my sister, you should do it the right way," my brother continued stupidly. "It's not appropriate to have whatever this is." He motioned between us with his hands. "It's wrong."

I jumped when Wanda's hand slipped to my arse, squeezing it gently. Thankfully, our backs were to a wall so nobody would have noticed behind us, but I instantly glared at her and removed her hand. She gave me a cunning smile, not bothered by the consequences.

"...and if you're sleeping together like I suspect," Y/B/N was saying, making me flush with humiliation, "know that our friendship is at breaking point. I can't have that blatant disrespect in my life."

Wanda continued to attempt to grab my arse, making me slap her hand away several times, all whilst trying to manage whatever conversation was happening right now.

"I can't believe you just said that," I finally spoke up, managing to keep Wanda at bay long enough. "You're such an idiot, Y/B/N! I told you I wasn't with Pietro!"

Pietro tried not to laugh as he met my brother's intimidating stare. "I value our friendship, too, Y/B/N. Which is why I can promise you I have no... relations... with your sister. I don't like her like that, I can assure you."

Wanda snorted with amusement, before hiding behind a glass of wine when everyone looked her way.

Y/B/N seemed embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "Oh."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, oh!"

"I guess I should apologise," he said awkwardly, looking to Pietro. "I–"

"No apology necessary," Pietro cut him off, raising a hand. "I am thankful for the entertainment however."

"I'm gonna go literally anywhere else," I dismissed myself, unable to take the uncomfortable situation any longer.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away. To my surprise, Wanda trailed after, falling into step with me.

I glanced at her unhappily, quirking a brow. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, don't be mad at me because your brother's an idiot," she said with a wag of her hand.

I gave her a suggestive look. "I told you to behave."

She pressed her lips together in a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry... Y/B/N was talking about you and Pietro and I– well, I don't like sharing, remember?"

The improper glint in her eye as she stopped before me, watching with amusement, made me feel warm all of a sudden. That day when she first told me that and we proceeded to make love flashed to mind, and she seemed to know as she had a mischievous look on her face.

Clearing my throat, I pointed a finger her way. "Behave."

I should have known by the devilish look in her eyes that she wouldn't.

[thatsgay-writes]

Catra x twin!sister reader where reader travels in alot of planets to find her sister and when she landed on etheria she explored the whispering woods and found melog, with their help she found glimmer and she led her to her castle and she finally met her sister. Catra wasn't pleased about it thinking that her family abounded her she just pushes reader away and goes to her room. Reader stays and went to deal with catra. They talked (mostly arguing) and in the end catra and reader hugs and they became very dear friends.

(I'm basically making you a nicer version of Catra with super girl powers (which you don't use in the story) and Lena Luthor as your wife because why not. I am also putting everyone in their early to late 20s... I also forgot to add Melog :( sorry.)

"Space log, day... 2000?" You mumble as you speak into the recorder on your ship. "It's been... 4 years since my son was born. 8 years since my people finally fully integrated with the civilization of our sister planet. 10 years since I renounced my royal title. 12 years since I met the love of my life. 16 years since my home world was destroyed by the Horde and my parents were killed. And... 24 years since I have last seen my baby sister." You breath out, having lost hope after so many years of things going wrong. "Lena and Madden have stayed on the planet Oa while I explore this last planet. It appeared almost 2 years ago and was the last place the Horde had ever been. Who or whatever is on the planet must be powerful." "This... This will be the final planet I explore. I have no hope of seeing my sister again." God you were so tired of the disappointment you felt every time you couldn't find your sister. "Happy 26th birthday." You mumble out as you get closer to the new planet. "End log."

---

"This is spaceship Kr 97. Requesting permission to land. I repeat requesting permission to land." You spoke into your radio, hoping to hear anything back. Maybe this planet didn't have the technology yet for radios? "If anyone can hear me. My name is Y/n and I come in peace. I will be landing my ship on your planet and will wait 2 days before exploring on my own." You say into your radio before putting it back where it had been hanging and controlling your ship into the planets atmosphere. It was a little bit of a bumpy landing but you landed your ship just fine on the outskirts of what seemed to be a forest. You set a 48 hour alarm on your phone. You weren't sure how the people or creatures of the planet told time, so you just stuck with what you knew. It had kept you alive so far anyways.

"Alrighty." You say to yourself as you step off of your ship. You take a deep breath as you feel the yellow sun power you up. "48 hours, let's get to work."

---

You spent the next two days cleaning up in and around your spaceship, setting up a camp, and watching how the forest worked so you knew what you could eat and what you couldn't. You had been sitting on the ground relaxing when you hear your timer go off. You click the loud noise off and stand up, grabbing the bag you had prepared. While learning the forest, you had seen some villages that seemingly lead towards somewhere and you had decided that the best course of action was to hop from village to village to see if their was a kingdom or something of that nature that you could get into contact with. You just hoped everyone was nice and that this wouldn't be a hard planet to navigate.

---

The first town you enter seems to be a farming village. You can tell because you had to walk through fields and saw, what you assume, were the livestock on the planet. You stood behind some trees for a while as you assessed how the villagers acted. You watched as kids ran around playing with their friends, shopkeepers and homeowners leaving their windows open in the nice weather, clearly not scared of being robbed. You decide that it's safe enough to enter and you have your powers to back you up incase things go wrong. It was weird because the planet had 3 moons and only 1 sun, usually planets had the suns out number moons but it was enough. You fix your cloak over your ears and tuck them back so they wouldn't be noticeable or a defining characteristic if things went sideways.

You walk slowly through the village, having expected to get some attention from your large black robe. And you do get some curious looks but it's mainly all friendly smiles. You are almost halfway through the village, aiming to enter one of the shops and ask around, when a something hits your leg. You look down and see a ball a few inches in front of your foot. You pick it up, making sure to retract your claws, and hold it out to the toddler who was staring at you and his ball. "Here you go." You say to him as you hold the ball out and shake it a little so his attention goes to it. He waddles up to you and takes the ball from you. He stares at it for a few seconds before making motions with his hands, wanting you to hold him.

Without hesitating, you pick him up and hold him close to your chest. "Where is your mother, kitten?" You ask him as he reaches up to play with your ear that were still under your hood. "Kitty!" He squeals as he knocks the hood off your head and you hear an audible gasp from behind you. "Oh my gosh, Catra I am so sorry! We didn't think you were visiting till next week. We would have prepared a feast for you and the rest of the princesses." You turn around and see an elderly looking man, who's eyes widen at the sight of you. "Have you gotten taller and cut your hair again?" He asks confused. You give him a small smile, "I'm sorry but I'm not this Catra you speak of. Are you saying there is someone similar looking to me on your planet?" You ask and the man gives you a weird look when you call it his planet but slowly nods his head. You feel hope for the first time in years and eagerly ask the man if you could stay near the town till she came next week. He gave you a bit of a weird look, not sure who you were now and unsure of your intentions, even though your reaction was positive. "Sure."

---

After returning the toddler to his mother, you basically sprinted back to your ship in excitement. "Lena! Lena!" You shout happily into the radio on your ship. Time is a little different on the planet as the sun was just starting to set but it would already be completely dark on Oa. But by your clock it was only 9, so Lena and Madden should still be awake. "Y/n?" You hear your name crackle through the radio and a smile appears on your face. "Lena you'll never believe it! There is someone on this planet that supposedly looks just like me and vice versa!" You say into the radio, feeling like a kid on Nova day. "I think it's her... I hope its her." You say as you image seeing your sister again for the first time in 24 years. "I'm so happy for you y/n! We will start making preparations to join you soon." You bite your lip in thought. "Maybe you should wait... I just wouldn't want to overwhelm her, you know?" You can almost hear Lena nodding on the other end of the phone. "That makes sense, we'll plan to leave by the end of the week if everything goes well."

"Geez I love you so much." You mumble with a wide grin. "And Madden too. Is he still up?" "No he fell asleep a few minutes before you radioed, he spent all day playing." "Oh well, tell him I love him and I'll radio back in the morning." "Okay, bye." "Bye."

---

"We need to be very careful about this." Glimmer says as she and the best friend squad enter the village who sent a letter the day before about someone who looked like Catra in their village. "We already knew that there were other people out there but as we already know not all of them are friendly." Catra walks next to Adora, numbly nodding along. Could this be it? Could she finally learn where she came from? Everyone else in the Horde had been born into it and Adora had come through a portal but no one really knew where Catra was from. "Are you okay?" Adora asked as she squeezed Catra's hand, nervous at how silent her girlfriend was. Catra just mutely nods back.

---

"This planet is simply marvelous!" The group hears you laugh out after being greeted by the village leader. "They look almost just like you Catra." Bow comments as they watch your tall figure move around as you play with the kids of the village and let them climb all over you. "Y/n!" You hear someone call your name and turn to see the village leader standing with a group of people and... Catra. They watch as you freeze and let your mouth fall open in shock. You set the kids down and encourage them to go play together. You walk towards the group with a smile. You go down the line of friends shaking their hands and introducing yourself, ignoring their looks of surprise, before finally reaching Catra. "Wow..." You breathe out in absolute awe. You can feel your eyes get misty the longer you stare at her. "You look so much like mom." You say with a watery laugh that completely sets Catra off.

"Who are you?" She asks as she pushes her finger into your chest making you take a step back. "What? Catra, I'm your sibling. I thought the similarities would make that clear." She glares at you and you can feel the whole village watching the interaction. "Just because we look similar doesn't mean anything." You move quickly and grab her right hand and hold it up next to your left one, both birthmarks showing.

You watch as Catra freezes. Her face and body come to a complete stop as her eyes flicker between the identical birthmarks and your face. "I know you must have questions and I do too. But I have spent the last 8 years going all across the galaxy looking for you and right now all I want is a hug... Please?" You get out as you let go of Catra's hand only for her to push you away one last time and storm into a temporary tent that had been set up for the best friend squad.

You take a second to take a breath before following after her. "I wouldn't follow after her, she needs time to cool down." A blonde, Adora, said to you as she placed a hand on your should to stop you. "I've dealt with people with anger issues before." You say as you brush her hand off. "I know how to handle this." You say and walk towards the tent again, not giving anyone a chance to stop you.

---

"You can't hide away in here sister." You say as you enter the tent, dodging a pillow that was thrown at your head. "Don't call me that." She mumbled angrily. "And why not, you are my sister are you not? I mean everyone saw the birth mark." Catra stands up angrily. "If you were my sister, you would have spent longer than 8 years looking for me! And how can you even compare me to this "mom" that I know absolutely nothing about!? Where are they anyways, huh? Where's great old mom and dad that I have spent the last 25 years not knowing about!" She unloads onto you and your feel your heartbreak at how disheveled she looked. You shouldn't have assumed everything would be smiles and laughs when the two of you first met.

"26." "Huh?" "You're... We're 26. Our birthday was 2 days ago." "So I don't even know my own birthday!" Catra explodes. "Get out." She says suddenly and quietly. "What?" "I said get out." She repeats and you shake your head at her. "I'm not leaving." You watch as Catra's hair stand up. "I am giving you one last warning, get out now or I will do something I might not regret." You cross your arms and stare her down. "I have spent the last 8 years planet hopping with my family looking for you. I. Am. Not. Leaving."

Catra jumps at you suddenly, attempting to scratch, hit, kick, do anything to make you leave the tent. Instead of doing what she wanted, you just wrapped her in a tight hug and sat on the ground. You stay like that for a while, her trying to hold back sobs and angry tears before finally letting go and you just rubbing circles on her back to try and calm her down. "Why?" Is all she says after almost an hour of being in that position. "Why what?" "Why now?" You let out a sad sigh at her question. "Mom and Dad are dead, killed by the Horde Prime and his followers when I was 10." You can feel Catra flinch at how blunt you were and the fact that she had worked for the Horde only a few years ago. "You had already been missing for 8 years at that point, multiple search teams being sent out but none could find you." You squeeze Catra tighter as you feel yourself relive all the grief that you carried for the past 16 years.

"I managed to get most of our people off the planet and to our sister planet before the Horde completely destroyed everything. Got everyone situated on that planet, met the love of my life, renounced my claim to any throne, and finally I started looking for you." It's silent for a few minutes as Catra absorbed everything you said. "So..." You asked as you wiped your tears off your face. "What about you?"

You and Catra spent the rest of the night and next day sharing stories about your childhood and how differently but similar the two of you had grown up. You even got to tease her about Adora and the fact that you were, technically, her older sister by 2 minutes. You were also very excited when you got to show Catra around the ship you had taken to get to Etheria.

---

"So I am guessing everything went well?" Lena asked over the radio after you finally called her about coming to Etheria. "It was a little rocky at the beginning but we smoothed things over... She's great Lena, you guys are gonna love each other." You say with a giant smile on your face as you look at Catra who was relaxing in the copilot seat next to you.

[someone-worth-racing-for]

Tea spoon ❤️

I finally started reading your series. I’m in the beginning of part 2. Loving all the cuddles 🥰 Your writing is very easy to read which is awesome for people that English is their second language (like me).

Also your fanfics are very good for new carlando fans. While I’m reading I search for each GP to see in which positions they finished. 😅 And I didn’t know 2019 Spa GP was on Carlos’ birthday (btw loved “Tomorrow will be kinder”. It must not have been easy to write about what happened, but you were very sensitive and I think it was a lovely tribute).

Hope I have the time to finish reading it all 🤞

By just the first two words of your message I have instantly got it about which story of mine you are talking about here 🙈

I'm happy to hear that you have so much joy reading my series 🥰 Even tho I have to admit that my writing wasn't that good back then by the first two parts 🙈 I have made way too many mistakes and I really want to correct them when I will finally find time for it 😅 But it's also good to hear that it's easy for you to read because English isn't your first language as well. At least for once you have an advantage as a non English speaking writer 🙈 I really miss writing for Someone Worth Racing For, writing for the good, old days..

I have written those chapters after every race of the second half of the 2019 season has happened, so the race result in my story are the real ones, so the story is actually based on the reality, at least to a certain percent 😅 I have always waited how the race weekend has turned out before I have started writing the next chapter, so it could be as real as possible, if you know what I mean 😉

To Spa 2019 and Tomorrow Will Be Kinder - this weekend/this story of mine actually has a backstory, the reason why I have actually started writing Carlando fanfictions.

The end of August/the beginning of September is always a very emotional phase of the year for me, because on the 02.09.2017 a friend of mine has passed away by a car accident and his birthday is on the 28.08. - every year it's always the end of the summer for me and yeah, not an easy time.

So when that horrible accident at Spa happened on the 31.08.2019 and Anthoine passed away, I instantly had to think about my friend of course. Then the moment I have fallen for Carlando happened and paired with that heartbreaking race, I just couldn't stop thinking about it (the storyline of Tomorrow Will Be Kinder) anymore.

So I got up at 5 on Monday morning, since it was the day my friend has passed away two years ago, and I started writing because writing has always been my therapy.

Please, don't get me wrong here because I don't want to be tasteless or something like that, but if those things wouldn't have happened back then (I actually really wish so for Anthoine, Juan Manuel and their families), if it would have happened on any other race weekend of the year, I would have probably never started writing for Carlando like that. But since it happened exactly on that weekend, I just had to connect it with the lost of my friend, so yeah - everything has actually started with that.

But even though it really hasn't been easy for me to write that story back then, it at the same time did me good as well with writing down my feelings. I'm also very happy to hear from you that I have been very sensitive with that topic and have managed to make it a lovely tribute for Anthoine. To hear that really means a lot to me and is actually one of the best feedback I have ever received.

Okay, that was probably more backstory than you have asked for 🙈 Sorry for that!

Anyway, thank you so much for reading these stories I have written such a long time ago! And have fun reading the rest.

Thank you so much for taking your time and leaving this message here for me ❤️ I really appreciate it!

[dankmyfarrik]

Our Angel | Chapter 3: I Licked It So It’s Mine

Masterlist, Previous Chapter

Summary: You are hired to pleasure a lonely Mandalorian. It’s just a paycheck. |Post Season Two

Read it here:

(Personal Preference)

Wattpad

Archive Of Our Own

Individual Chapter Warnings: This chapter is mature! I don’t know what demon possessed me. More of the same but in more detail.

Word Count: 5.8K ish

Authors Notes: Ok, I know it has been a while. I tested positive for Covid on my birthday, and everything has gone downhill since then. BUT! I am here now, and exams are mostly over, so I will be return to the regular schedule soon. Also, I mentioned this on AO3, because this series is very episodic, if you have any “sexy time” ideas you would like to see implemented, shoot me an anon! IF it fits with where I want to take the story, I will do my best to include it!

If you were once worried your income would be hindered from his absence, you weren't anymore.

Mando certainly made up for his vacancy—and often.

His bare hand always found its home on the back of your neck, glove in mouth, and you're bent over whatever object you had been closest to. First was the bed, the crate, kitchenette, another crate, table, and most recently, the ladder to the cockpit where you clung to the bars for dear life. Four more times since Takodana and you had left less than a day ago.

Yes, you felt used, but… he always made sure you were satisfied too: bringing his hand down… when most people wouldn't care or be bothered if they were paying anyways. He has stuck so strictly to, well, handling you like a bounty, not intimate, quick and over, you were starting to wonder if you were keeping him satisfied.

He seemed content with just bending you over and taking what he needed at that moment. But surely, he longed for more. He must have desires beyond primal impulses. He wasn't a droid; he was warm (you've felt that in detail). A man, an unsolvable puzzle you were now determined to crack.

You had wanted to find out what made the Mandalorian tick, what he liked, and what he didn't. What made him tip more. What made him tip less. He seemed not to like a lot of things, but he tolerated you, so that was a good start.

The only problem was: you were an awkward flirt.

But it would have helped your tips, so it was worth a shot. Or so you thought.

You internally cringe at the memory. You copied a line from one of your spicier holo shows, "I licked it, so it's mine," when you were at the base of the ladder on your knees. He twitched—hard— but before he could feel the whole heat of your mouth, he brought you up and spun you around: hence the 'holding onto the rungs of the ladder for dear life' part. Again, he was a puzzle for denying your attempt - but maybe that was something he didn't want from you despite how his body reacted.

You did like his body, though—and his smell. Which you supposed was extremely fortunate given your situation. Maker, you were an animal. His armor was enticing to you too. And would be more challenging to draw than Moz's goggles: the reflections came from light in all locations. It would be your biggest challenge yet: a walking mirror.

You did let yourself wonder what was below the armor, beyond what you already knew from his gloves and zipper. It was impossible to not think about. You knew it was his religion, and you never expect him to share something so private with a… well you. But you couldn't stop yourself. You settled on a blond with hard green eyes and flat lips. Although something about the description didn't feel quite right, you couldn't place it - not that it mattered anyway.

Heavy steps came from the ladder, and you jolted, looking up from where your gaze wandered from your sketchpad. Your stare was met back by Mando's. You were about to stand to ready yourself for another round when you realized the purpose for his presence: food.

Men really were simple creatures.

"I set you out an extra cup." You keep your eyes on your drawing with a smile, not wanting to put too much emphasis on the gesture. The caf you bartered for at Takodana was some of the best you've ever had because of your secret ingredient the trader mentioned. "Enjoy the Thala milk while it lasts."

Truly a rare delicacy. It pairs well with muffins.

So at the last minute, you attempted to replicate the batch the Zarbak made. It needs improvement but better than grey soup. A lot better. You never had the ingredients or time to ever make food before - it was surprisingly fun and relaxing.

"The muffins are still warm, and I can reheat the soup from last night too if you're still…" you trail off when you look back up: he is just staring at you. Well, he could be blinking, and you would never know, either way, it felt like he was peering into your soul - pinning you down with the 'T' visor before he finally spoke.

"This wasn't in your job description," then softer, "You don't have an obligation."

When he was only eating a grey sludge? Hoth yes, you had an obligation!

Seeing this as an opportunity for a tip, you set your sketchpad to the side and jump to your feet. You cross the room, and he doesn't move but does let his helm waver across you for a moment. You get closer, he had typically been the one to initiate, but you thought you could give it a try and see how it goes. You place a tentative hand on his cowl, not trying to pull to see more skin than what he has willingly shown you - just letting the weight and heat of your hand have a presence. Something slightly more intimate than holding the armor. You move to whisper into the crook of his neck, hoping he can feel the warmth of your breath.

"And what would you say my job is exactly?"

You open a leg out and lift it ever so slightly to his hip so that your heat would be on the growing bulge in his pants. With your leg half wrapped around him, you pull yourself together and purposefully create the smallest amount of friction between the both of you. He stiffens and sucks in a breath as he towers over you. You quickly try to think of something sexy to say next, but you honestly didn't think he would let you get this far.

"Muffins were not not in the job description." Was the best thing you could come up with.

Nice.

But before the graceless comment could hang in the air too long, a beep sounded from overhead.

With a low growl, he pulled from your clumsy enticement. Unsure of the situation, you ask, "Is the ship okay?"

He had moved to the muffins, examining them with brisk efficiency before snatching one with one hand and the caf in the other. He nodded and turned towards the ladder.

"Have to enter a hyperspace lane to get to Hoth." And just before the cockpit door closed overhead, "Thank you."

Hyperspace.

Hoth!

Two bucket list items all in one sentence - Tim will be so excited! You will have to make detailed drawings and notes of Hoth since it is clearly his favorite. It was his favorite for a reason, though; Hoth was the darling of the holo shows imagination: mythical Wampas, impossibly cold temperatures, and deadly winds. You would always roll your eyes, setting Tim straight about his gullibility to believe in movie magic. However, the snow you speculated was true, and you had never seen that either. You didn't want Tim to be disappointed. You wanted him to keep that childlike wonder; perhaps snow and hyperspace would be enough to captivate his interest since you wouldn't actually see a Wampa.

With quickened steps, you return to your sketchpad and curl into a blanket you brought from your quarters. You had spent the night in the previously unused larger bed; it was the largest mattress you had ever seen, let alone sleep on. But if Hoth had snow, then it might be a little chilly, so you should bring out the blankets and check for warm clothes in your bag.

Wrapped in your sweatshirt and nestled next to some extra charcoals is Takodana's jar half on its side - a world tipped. You notice the mosses within are beginning to brown, the telltale sign of a premature end. As the world in the container starts to die, the tiny bug wandering on the landscape knows his days are numbered - looking through the glass at its decider of fate: you. "Help me," its small trill voice rings in your imagination. You are the gatekeeper, the angel at the door who only has to act to allow the light to access the dying world you created. Abandoning your search for warm clothes, you think of Mazey one last time, muster your courage, and knock on the cockpit door.

"Hey, Mando," your stomach twists - this was a bad idea, "I understand if you don't want—Can I put this in the light, so it doesn't die?"

You look up and gasp. Hyperspace.

It really was like nothing you had ever seen before. Blues, purples, yellows, white, and black all blended in perfect harmony. Worlds came and went in the blink of an eye. And all reflected brilliantly against Mando's armor. It was indescribable with words, luckily writing isn't your strong suit anyway— only a drawing could do this justice.

"You've never been in hyperspace before."

And suddenly, all of the colors were gone. There was only the uncompromising visor.

Your widened eyes snap to the black 'T'; you swear the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

"What, of course! All the time!" And you seal your lie with a breathy laugh for good measure - praying his helmet doesn't have heat sensors as that one Mandalorian did in that show. Your pulse probably lit you up like a Life Day tree.

But he only hums in acknowledgment; his head tilts down to see the way you are awkwardly gripping the jar for survival.

"The light in the kitchen will work the best for plants."

You nod and escape the cockpit as fast as you can. That was a horrible idea. Now he thinks you are a total liar. What if he finds out you have no idea what you are doing. What if he finds out you are doing this for your family.

The credits are too good to lose the job now.

—-

You've been curled up on your mattress, surrounded by blankets, gripping your caf a bit too tightly for what only felt like a few minutes before the ship lurched—signaling the end of hyperspace.

You don't go back up to the cockpit to see what Hoth looks like through the atmosphere, Tim might be a little disappointed, but it was probably a pale blue marble. Not worth repeating what just happened. You're not given time to fester though, the turbulence sends you against a wall, and you land face first on your bed. You imagine clouds engulfing the ship, rushing past the plummet to a snowy landscape.

Mostly gray, a hint of navy blue, and you would need a fan brush to add the snow flurries. You only brought the charcoals with you, but you will keep the memory safe until you return home.

Like a dugar on ice, you stumble out to the belly of the ship, clinging to the wall as you go. Finally, there is an uncomfortably audible thump as the ship hits ground. Hoth.

The hefty steps on the ladder return, and he strides straight past you to the weapons rack.

"If I'm not back in 8 hours, assume I'm dead and take off." He slings a rope over his shoulder.

"I don't really know how to fly a ship like this one," you whisper as he clips what looks like a flashlight to his belt. You don't know how to fly anything at all, but you leave that part out.

"There is a manual under the pilot chair." You nod. Hopefully, it does not come to that.

With an added blade to his boot, he moves to a panel and presses in buttons; the ship beeps and hisses in return.

"If the heat breaks, let me know in the comm. Go to the shower, run hot water over yourself, and pray a pipe doesn't burst. I will hopefully be back before you freeze to death."

"Hopefully," you murmur, "Will I be able to leave the ship?"

"For short periods of time. Here." He turns to you and hands you the blaster on his side; your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull. "Mando, don't you need that?!"

"A bounty idiotic enough to hide here is long dead," he motions to the rope on his shoulder, "Take it in case you see a wampa while you are out."

You take the blaster from him with a timid hand. The weight of it fully sinking into you, the power. How many people died looking through the barrel of this very blaster? Now a Mandalorian is handing it to you so you can go on a field trip.

Then the rest of his words sink in, and you laugh heartily, "Wampas aren't real."

"Yes, they are."

With that, Mando turns on his heel and leaves. A gust of sharp frozen air fills the cabin in his wake.

Worried, you call after him, "Then won't you need it!!"

He nonchalantly tilts his head back to you.

"I have a blade." And keeps walking without looking back; his form instantly lost in the blizzard.

You imagine Mando wrestling with a wampa using the blade he put in his boot. The weapon looked so small in his hands, and if wampas were anything like in the shows, their thick coats would be almost impossible to cut through. What if he gets hurt because you have his blaster?

—-

You wait for the blizzard to die down, and when you finally descend the ramp to the frozen planet, you realize—those holo shows didn't exaggerate a thing.

The impossible cold temperatures were, in fact, very possible, and your nose and fingertips experienced the worst of it. You push the sleeves of your sweatshirt above your hands and pull the hoodie strings to better protect your face.

You breathe in.

You breathe out.

So. This is what snow is like. It was colder than you imagined, soft, and had a strange crunching noise beneath your boots—the desolate landscape sprawled before you. Mountains peaked the clouds in the distance, but every detail closer was enveloped in mist. After a few moments of feeling the presence of the cold deep within your lungs and the weight of the weapon at your side, you run.

It was freeing, and you felt light, giggles escaping your lips as you tumbled to the blanketed ground. You decorate the snow with angels of your figure. But you want to be more creative than that. Sculpting was never your forte, but you do your best. After three snowmen stood before you, the largest one no bigger than your shoe, you decide to up the ante.

You try to get the general shape of the wampa First. The beast would only stand an inch taller than the snowman. Then you added the horns and used the nail of your finger to add the details of the wampa's face and fur.

You look upon your creations with a juvenile sense of pride. This way, you could experiment with new art mediums without bothering Mando.

You lay backward in the snow, surrounded by your statues with a tired smile. Finally, you yawn and lazily turn your head to the side.

And if your heart could talk, it would let out a blood-curdling scream.

Luckily for you, you've trained your reactions to be on the quieter side—thus, instead of screaming, your jaw clamped shut as you felt your stomach plummet.

A fresh footprint the size of your chest was plastered in the ground, inches from your nose.

Wampa.

As calmly as possible, you stand and ascend the ramp. The ramp slowly shutting from the white abyss must have been one of the scariest moments of your life. The clicking of the latch was a sound of indescribable relief; your whole body felt flooded with emotion as if it all happened at once. Your knees wobbled as you climbed the ladder searching through the windows for any sign of the creature.

—-

If Mando is not back in 3 hours, you have to leave him.

Blizzards came and went, darkening your view, howling as if the ship would be torn apart. But your eyes stayed glued on the landscape in front of you, soaking in as much as you could in this rare period of calm. There was no sign of any life forms Mando, wampa, or otherwise.

But you know what you need before you can leave Hoth.

You breathe in—out and climb down the ladder.

With an empty jar in one hand and blaster in the other, you take tentative steps down the ramp and into snow.

The wampa print is still there, obscured by the winds and shifts of the snow. With haste, you shovel the snow from the print into the jar, unconcerned with making it look nice—Tim won't mind.

And you full-on sprint back to the ship. Safe. Blaster never fired.

You rummage through the drawer, pull out a tag, and label the jar.

Hoth

You store the jar in your bag, left to melt within minutes. Either way, you have captured a bit of Hoth with you. As soon as Tim hears this was once a wampa print, nothing else will matter anyway.

Even if by the time he sees it, it will just be a jar of water.

You now have two jars in your collection (one was slightly more charming than the other). But it was a collection nonetheless.

—-

If Mando is not back in 10 minutes, you're supposed to leave him.

With confidence all signs of a wampa are gone; you lower the ramp just enough so you can see.

That was a joke. Anything past a foot in front of your nose was a wild blur of snowflakes and splinters of ice whipping around. You had only been out there a few minutes, and it felt like your hands were going to freeze off, Mando has been gone for almost 8 hours. Your heart sinks as another unforgiving blast of wind strikes the side of the hull, sending the ship into a creaking, groaning pile of metal. The ship shifts even deeper in the snow, and more snow relentlessly pours on top. Burying you alive, making it harder for Mando to spot where he parked.

You can't leave him; he will be dead for sure. At least if you wait, he still has a chance. And that's what you do, for 30 excruciating minutes. The heat went out, and you sat on the floor of the hall curled in blankets waiting for the cold to become unbearable—that's when you will leave.

Unbearable came sooner than you would have liked to admit. Without constant heat circulation, the ship was nothing more than hollow metal walls to an unforgiving frozen wasteland.

Your shivering was a good sign; you told yourself over and over again as the tips of your fingers numbed entirely and started to trail your hands. Shivering meant your body was still trying. That you weren't dead yet.

And finally, when you stand to move to the cockpit to figure out the take-off procedure, the ramp door lowers after not seeing Mando for 8 hours and 45 minutes.

Mando stagers in dragging a blue-skinned, beady-eyed, ortolan by the trunk with the rope around his shoulder. But what you notice first is the kirffing wampa holding the other end of the rope, helping Mando get the blubbery, floppy-eared creature into the carbonite chamber.

You stand in the corner of the ship, wrapped in blankets watching as the carbonite gas fills the room. Mando sends a curt nod to the wampa, turns to the kitchenette, and gives it the last of your muffins.

The wampa howls its thanks and leaves the ship. The ramp closed in its wake.

"The bounty was heavier than expected, and she wouldn't accept credits for payment," he provides as if it made perfect sense why a wampa now has your baked goods.

You're speechless, standing useless in the corner—shock and frustration simmering in your gut. You could have left him. He could be as good as dead right now.

But you do notice Mando is gripping the side of the kitchenette a bit too tightly; his shoulders are not as confident as usual, and most alarming of all: you can hear his breaths through the modulator.

"Are you alright?"

"Glad to be alive," he huffs. Then takes a step forward and stumbles slightly. You are there in a flash, catching his arm. Ice cold.

"I just need to thaw out. It will be fine."

He was so casual, but it could have been a severe injury. He could have been stranded. Dead.

He walks to the ladder while keeping a firm hand on the wall. The ship starts with a grudge but finally, you feel the stress of the blizzard disappear. Space at last. He stumbles back down and to the refresher; after a few minutes, you hear the shower turn on.

—-

You expect him to be in the shower for a while thawing out.

You were going to leave him behind. Would you have been responsible for his death? Would you have been arrested for his murder? You can't afford to lose this job. You have to keep the lights on, and if he dies…You barely knew the man, and yet the thought of him gone—leaving you alone with his ship—terrifies you.

You nervously tap your nails on the side of a crate.

You need a distraction.

So you start to finish your previous project. You remove the few collected bowls of snow from the fridge, add some vanilla, Thala milk, and sugar you bartered for at Takodana, and—ice cream. Forget your tension and irritation. This was a coping mechanism as good as any.

Ice cream.

Your mom prefers the cooking channel, you never saw the charm, but this was one episode you did pay attention to as a kid.

You had always wanted to try it anyway.

Mando exits the refresher, and hot steam rolls onto the floor before he closes the door behind him. Tall as ever. If he was in any pain, he didn't show it as he loomed over you.

You want to chastise him, scream, make him understand through that thick bucket on his head. This was more than you signed up for. You decide to act on your better angel—deflection.

"I made ice cream."

He hesitates, glancing between the bowl and yourself: a wound-up girl currently refusing to look at him in the 'T' of the visor and fists clenching a tad too tightly at her sides. Then, finally, he answers, slow, sounding skeptical, "Snow from Hoth?"

"With a bit of vanilla, sugar, and milk." Your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"Don't eat that."

Genuine confusion speckles your features, "Wait, why not?"

He takes a cup of some unaltered snow, and suddenly a burst of flames erupts from his wrist. Your anger leaves you immediately for the startle in your chest. Of course, he has a built-in flame thrower on his wrist - why were you even surprised.

The snow pools to water in an instant as the flames lap the sides of the bowl. He sets it down in front of you, and there is at least a spoonful of dirt at the bottom.

Your lips set in a firm line, and you slowly look back up at him. At the 'T.' Hopefully his eyes and not a random place on his forehead. He lets out a low chuckle. It's the first time you hear him laugh; it's rich and deep and light all at the same time. Your lips curve up just in the presence of the sound - even if it was at your expense.

—-

The immediate anger bubbling on the tip of your tongue eventually subsided, replaced with a warm embrace of a blanket, working heater, simmering cup of caf, and an overwhelming thankfulness it is Mando piloting the ship right now and not you.

He could have died, but he didn't. That probably happens a lot in his line of work - an understanding that any day could be his last.

Although you would have preferred a more stable source of credits—yes, you felt guilt from reducing his life as your income— you decided to make the most while you could.

That's how your feet find themselves moving to the cockpit door and a hesitant hand knocking once again.

After a beat of silence you enter. He has one hand resting on the ship's control column and the other entering a series of buttons—hyperspace streaks across the glass.

He seems busy. You should leave…

But his shoulders seemed relaxed, and he didn't appear to be acknowledging your presence. Surely he would tell you to go away when you knocked.

You move forward to take the initiative and lean against one of the panels. You are far enough away from him so that you don't accidentally press a button with your butt, but close enough so that you remain in his peripheral.

Knowing he is not one for small talk, you trace a line on the outside of your clothes from your sternum to the seam of your pants. You feel his eyes glued to you despite him remaining unchanged, facing forward and working.

You let out a sigh of boredom that boarded something pornographic. To your delight, his hand twitched ever so slightly on the controller.

He pushes one more button, stops, and slowly turns his chair to face you.

There is a moment where he just stares up at you. You both know a transaction is about to occur. Sex for credits. A bartering so simple it was practiced well into ancient times. Now you are both merely cogs on a wheel, achieving your desires. The sex meant nothing to you, and the credits mean nothing to him: a mutualistic relationship as good as any.

Becoming impatient at how long it was taking his eyes to rake over your body, you thread your lower lip between your teeth and let the plump flesh snap back in place a moment later. That does the trick because he stands to full height, looking down at you once more.

With bravery, you don't know how you mustered; You take a step closer and attractively try to wrap yourself around him—the armor cold beneath your fingertips.

You whisper along where you assume his lips are on the visor, the heat of your breath hitting the metal and warming your face, "I could have left you."

He runs a hand along your cheek and tightens the grip, "You didn't."

The Mandalorian presses a gloved thumb on your lower lip, parting them to show the smallest sliver of teeth before he plunges the finger ever so slightly deeper. Your eyes practically light up with dollar signs as you lick and wrap your tongue around the digit. Showing him in detail exactly what you were imagining. No, the grainy leather of the glove was not as pleasant as his skin, but the guttural sound that emanated somewhere below the chest plate made you forget all about the places that glove may have been.

Then in a flash, both hands are firmly anchored on your hips, spinning you to face away from him. Surrounding you with an overwhelming view of hyperspace. You gasped not just from the sudden movement, but from your position; it was like you were plummeting past the stars.

But then, as you are looking across the endless swirling space, he is putting pressure on the back of your neck, bending you at the waist (again - what a surprise). Your nose now inches from the glass, the buttons dig slightly into your sides. He shifts his hips, lining his clothed, ever-hardening, bulge up against you. He groans, "Look so good like this, Joey."

And rolls, you whimper, and mewl at the unexpected praise. But before it has time to settle, he is actually speaking audibly this time; your pants are haphazardly yanked to your knees, panties and all.

Cold air hits your bottom, and you shiver. But it is replaced with warmth as he grinds into you one more time, smearing your arousal across his flight suit.

"Bite."

The familiar words rumble from behind you as you lodge the glove between your teeth. All notions of the previous conversation forgotten. After a well-placed spiral and a smear, a thick, ungloved, digit is pushed into you, and you gasp once again, but this time for much better reasons.

The hand continues to pump in and out and circle with his thumb. When he deems you ready, he lines up directly behind you. The space was slightly cramped because of the pilot chair.

You hear the sound of the zipper. Then he is running his length through your folds, soaking him. You all but feel the trail of slick between the two of you as he pulls away for a moment. You feel him notch at your entrance, then, with a couple of slow, measured thrusts, he is flush against you. The stretch stung but was marvelous.

You crane your head back, nearly dizzy from the all-encompassing hyperspace and wanting to fulfill the curiosity about what you look like taking the cock of a fully armored Mandalorian. You get the slightest glimpse, seeing how the flesh of your ass pillows attractively as he is entirely pushed into you. Your eyes find relief from the streaking stars for just a second before the ungloved hand settles strongly on the back of your neck - wrapping around to the hinges of your jaw and forcing you to face forwards.

You spasm around him, and he groans but still does not move. How does he have this level of restraint?! You imagine hunting bounties takes a lot of patience too. To spring at the right moment. To find the best opportunity to close his jaws around his prey's neck and squeeze. He has been gone for days on end hunting—this must be nothing to him.

There was a rip of fabric as your shirt was torn from you. Oh well, you did not like that shirt anyway. He is the one paying for it, so it didn't matter how many clothes he destroyed. You neglected to put a bra on (part of the enticement plan), which in hindsight, probably allowed the undergarment to 'live' another day. But now, your breasts mashed against the cold, hard buttons on the command council, and the contrast to the throbbing heat behind—inside of—you felt wonderful.

Now, completely bare in front of him, he slowly, entirely, leaves your warmth. You whimper and quiver in his absence. The tightening of his hand on the back of your neck subconsciously notified you of his intentions, but you could never have been prepared: he thrusts back into and hard.

The pace is relatively slow but brutal, completely leaving you before flushing against you every time. Air rushes out of your lungs as soon as you can get it back in his absence. Each thrust presses you further and further into the cockpit's controls, and you swear your nose brushes against the glass.

Ok, maybe this is a bit too much hyperspace.

You had no bearing to reality. Nothing steady to hold on to. No air to keep. Just the blinding rush of stars and the pleasure. It was all so much—too much. Not enough.

In desperation you reach out mindlessly. Your hand settles on a lever with a silver ball at the top. You flick it by accident, and the whole ship lurches and beeps, sending him into you with even more force than he probably intended. Maker, you could almost feel him in your throat. You release a strangled cry, palm landing flat on the glass for balance instead.

"Don't be pressing buttons, Joey," huffing a laugh; he sounded almost as desperate as you. But where your voice becomes increasingly higher, his drops to an impossible gravel.

Your eyes flutter shut with the imminent high—the hand of the back of your neck tangles in your hair and yanks your head upwards. Your eyes are forced open, and the mess of stars nearly makes you faint. All of your senses are maxed out. You feel him so deep; why are you the one getting paid for this? Maker, why did you think the sex meant nothing to you when it was this world shattering.

You're shaking and so delirious you don't hear the hiss of his helmet being removed.

To your relief (and also disappointment?), a palm blocks your view of hyperspace.

A hot tongue drags a slow line across your spine to the back of your neck. And you kirffing wail as your orgasm blazes through you. You clamp down around him, and he bites the chord of your neck, leaving a mark, all without a single break in his firm, hammering, rhythm. Your back arches, but there is nowhere to go; you just take it how he gives it to you and pray to the Maker you will find air eventually.

That was most definitely Mando's tongue and teeth…his helmet is off. But before any rational thought can return to your brain, especially the implications about what you had told him earlier, you feel his helmet rest against your shoulder blades. The grip in your hair tightens as his forearm wraps around your waist, pushing you once, twice, three more times up to him— the embracing squelches, making you choke.

He fills you to the brim, your combined releases dripping down your legs, as he instantly stumbles back from you to sit in the pilot chair. His visor level with your twitching, used, warmth from where you are still obediently bent over for him. Despite the satisfying ache, your embarrassment pushes you to stand straight. But the gentle weight of a gloved hand on your lower back coaxes you to stay put. With nowhere to go, you hide your face in your elbow as he kneads the pillows of your ass, watching himself drip from you.

After he is satisfied with himself, he stands and double taps the band on your arm. The light turns green.

"Thank you." Your voice was hoarse and barely audible.

The Mandalorian grinds up against you again, the oversensitivity stinging. He then bends to your ear, voice dark as night and smooth as honey, he whispers.

"Mine."

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[pebblysand]

Hello!!! Hope you're enjoying your well earned vacations and a very happy birthday to you!!! If you're free can you please state Ron's opinions about Hinny (in castles) and their post war life as well as what the rest of the other Weasleys felt about the same. Since the Weasleys have been such a closely knit family they must be extremely hurt and concerned about both Harry and Ginny and their traumas. Did they ever feel excluded when it comes to Ginny's life since she wasn't sharing much and they wouldn't know how to help her out. I wonder how they dealt with all of it especially while grieving for Fred. (If possible please write a long post about this or a fic. I'm sooo in love with your works!) Have a great weekend!!! Loads of love!

Hello and thank you!! Such a lovely message! This is an old ask (sorry for the delay) and now, I've already sort of answered this a couple days ago re:Ginny in a long post (I hope you saw that), so I don't have that much to add. Regarding Harry, I think Molly is worried as well, but obviously he's not her son, so there's always a bit of awkwardness in that particular brand of meddling. Plus, it's hard for her to ask anything given that he's been avoiding the burrow, not knowing how to handle the Hinny situation.

As for your question on whether they feel excluded, I think yes, but as you pointed out yourself, what can they do, you know?

Anyway, thanks again for your question and your kind words, really appreciate it! Let me know if you still have questions :).