#slowly but surely working our way up to running a 5k - we have a ways to go

[its-all-been-said]

Week three of a consistent jogging routine, we are getting there!

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Fifteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (I'll put the gentle stuff first so if you want to skip the smut warnings you can but also please read them if you're worried! Viewer discretion is always advised! 💕) Flirting, Suggestive Language, Sexual Tension runs DEEP, Alcohol/Drinking, sending risque photos / sexting essentially, smoking, & Jake our sweet baby boy being nervous as fuck.

*smut time* including: (oral f/m receiving, mild hand kinks insinuated, fingers in places, fairly rough SEX, literally all our dreams are being insinuated in here folks.)

Word Count: 5k !!

Summary: After using the utmost will power Jake has the night before, Charlotte truly tests his ability to resist his urges the next day while he's working. And well, you can imagine how far he makes it.

Author's Note: THE CANDLE IS AFLAME. LETS GOOOOO!!! I can't wait for you guys to read this one and I especially can't wait to hear your feelings about it! You've been patient with me and I made sure that it was well worth the wait. Enjoy the ride babes! 😘💕

Tear You Apart - She wants Revenge "I want to hold you close, soft breath, beating heart, As I whisper in your ear. "I want to fucking tear you apart."

Nothing in the last eighteen hours has felt real. We laid there talking about whatever came to mind for a while, but she stayed pressed against me the whole time. Alternating between holding my hand or drawing little shapes on my chest as she told me stories. 

Getting to wake up with her curled up in my arms, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t just pretend to sleep for a few minutes just to enjoy the way she played with my hair and kissed my face until I finally “woke up.” Staying in bed until Josh left the apartment so we didn’t sell ourselves out. Just quietly talking and sharing lazy kisses for a while, I felt like I was still dreaming. 

Coming back into the room, she was wrapped up in one of my shirts, just sitting on my bed and scrolling on her phone. 

“I didn’t know friends with benefits meant you stealing my clothes,” I tease. 

Her smile is contagious, “what do you think the benefits part means?” 

“Oh, is that right?” I ask in a taunting tone as I start getting dressed. Watching her pout as I button my pants, “What’s that for?” 

She climbs off the bed quickly, sliding her hands around my waist, “Can you just not look at me when I say this?” The question laced with her giggles. 

“Oh, don’t be shy now,” I laugh. 

“You’re just sooo..” she quietly but quickly spits out. 

My eyebrow raises as she avoids finishing the sentence. Reaching back to grab a shirt from my closet, she’s still clung to me. 

She finally squeaks out, “sexy.” Immediately tucking her face into me, I wrap my arms around her as I laugh. She thinks I’m—? 

“If I didn’t have to be in the bar, trust me— I wouldn’t ruin your fun.” 

She leans back, moving her hands to the same place on my stomach, slowly letting them creep up to my chest, “Starting my day off with a little torture?”

 You have no idea. 

“I haven’t forgotten about that promise,” I mumble to her. Watching her eyes light up, I tell her, “I’ll make it up to you, but I do need to work for a little bit.” 

“Better be good if you’re making me wait even longer.” She taunts. 

“Oh, I think you’ll agree it was worth the wait,” I tell her before whispering, “But you have to let go of me if you ever want to find out.” Leaning forward to press my forehead against hers, trying to not laugh at the pout on her face. 

“I’m not done yet,” she groans, letting herself fall into me and chuckling to myself as she dramatically goes limp in my arms. We stood there like that for a few minutes; she kept leaving little kisses all over my chest, which further convinced me that I deserved an award for self-control. 

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After what felt like the longest goodbye, I have never wanted to not be in my bar more than I do today. Time feels like it’s crawling by as I stand here talking to customers at the bar. I’m nodding along to whatever they tell me as Josh mingles amongst the rest of the room. I see my phone light up out of the corner of my eye. 

Charlotte: Hi 

Me: hello there

Well, at least she can keep me company now. I pour a fresh beer and slide it to the man sitting across from me. I carefully tap on my phone, ..she already replied. 

Charlotte: I have a problem..

Me: oh? What’s that? 

Charlotte: Can’t stop thinking about how lol good you looked this morning 🤭

I can feel the heat rush to my face; what is she trying to do right now? I stare straight up at the ceiling for a second before replying. 

Me: and how can I help you with that? 

Charlotte: [sends photo in invisible ink]

Charlotte: I don’t know Jacob, how can you? 

I lock my phone faster than the speed of light. I close my eyes, biting the inside of my mouth. I can’t look at that out here. I make eye contact with Josh from across the room, gesturing to the bathroom as he nods quickly. 

I may as well have run into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I open her texts, slowly swiping away the invisible ink. There sits a photo of her legs crossed, stretched out in front of her, with dark red lace hugging her hips. Fuck me. Willing away the thoughts racing in my mind, I finally reply. 

Me: holy shit- I wish I was there. 

After a moment of silence and a handful of deep breaths, I make my way back out to the bar. How am I supposed to do this and not be obvious about it? 

Charlotte: Oh, you do? 

Me: You have no idea. 

I’d do anything to be there, Jesus Christ. I ring up a handful of tabs, sliding the receipts and their cards back to them as they head out and new customers take their places at the bar. 

I feel my phone vibrate as I’m taking someone’s order, turning to make it and setting my phone in front of me. 

Charlotte: What would you do if you were here? 

I about drop the bottle I’m holding when I read it. God, I don’t even know what I’d do. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything with a girl I’d probably panic. 

Me: oh honey I wish I could tell you 

Sliding their drink to them and grabbing a few empty glasses, anything to fight the demons away at this point. I pull my hair up into a low bun, trying to relieve myself of some of the heat coming off of me. 

“Warm?” Josh asks as he’s dropping off a handful of cans and glasses. 

Nodding quickly, “Yeah, I don’t know why.” I laugh for a second, definitely not because she’s tormenting me through text or anything. 

“You can go outside for a minute if you want; I got it.” 

“I may just take you up on that.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Throwing my phone in my pocket, I grab a cigarette from my office before hustling out back. The crisp, almost winter air hit me, instantly sending a chill through me. I lit the cigarette, only taking one drag from it before pulling my phone out. 

Charlotte: tell me Jacob 

My hands shake as I go to reply, whether it’s nerves or the cold, who knows? I fumble around, trying to convince myself to just say it to her. 

Me: god I just want to taste you

Was that dumb? I don’t know what else to say. I wish I could just BE THERE. Taking another slow drag, I watch the little typing bubble pop up. 

Charlotte: [sends photo] 

“Fucking hell,” I breathe out. 

My head drops back the moment it shows up. Her torso, the dark red lace, so gently cupped her. The glimmer of her nipple piercings caught the light as they’ peaked against the lace on them. She’s beautiful. The way I can see how her body curves and how soft her skin is. 

Charlotte: does that mean you’re a ‘ladies first’ kind of man?

Me: first and second, if that’s okay with you 

Charlotte: omg jacob? 

Charlotte: that’s so hot 

My stomach turns with every text; I’m so nervous. She just can’t know about it. The thought of going down on her plagues my mind. The sounds she’d make, the way she’d taste. 

Me: i’m sorry you look so fucking good

Me: how am I supposed to just stand behind the bar now? 

Taking the last few drags and putting it out, I head back inside. I sipped on the drink I have in my office, and then grab a mint before plopping down in my chair for a minute. 

Charlotte: that’s how I felt this morning 

Charlotte: you’ve been on my mind all day baby

‘Baby’ plays in my head from the other day. I can feel the blood rushing away from my brain with every flirty text she sends. 

Me: what have you been thinking about? 

I almost instantly regret asking because I know that the answer is going to be painful. Opening my email and scrolling through it for a moment before her name popped up in my notifications. 

Charlotte: How I wish you didn’t need to work today 

Charlotte: Just stayed in your bed all day with your hands all over me 

Me: yeah? You want that?

You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work. The sigh that falls out of me as I fight off every shiver that goes through my body because of her. Finally, getting up and going back out to the bar, letting Josh go hide for a few minutes. 

I take a chance to go wander around the tables and booths, talking to some of the regulars who were hidden amongst the crowd. I feel my phone vibrate against my thigh, but I try to ignore it while I get a few drink orders. I grab a few empty cans on my way back to the bar, tossing them into their bin before sliding my phone back out under the bar. 

Charlotte: mhmm. Your hands or your mouth, whichever you’d prefer. 

Charlotte: Just want you to touch me.

Me: god you’re killing me 

Pouring the drinks, but Josh sneaks over to grab them before I can. 

“How was your break?” I ask quietly. 

“Lovely,” He nods slightly, “How’s your night going?” His eyes dart to my phone and back at me. The warmth spreads through me again, and I just clear my throat quietly. 

He grabs my arm before quietly spitting out, “Oh, my sweet little brother, I’m not blind. You’ve been obsessively checking it; what is she saying to you?” 

I can’t help but laugh, “I don’t think you want to hear it.” Raising my eyebrows as we look at each other, his grin grows across his face. 

“Oh! Well, in that case, there’s a can of WD-40 in the back if you need to loosen up those joints before you see her,” he winks as he tells me, backing away with the drinks, and I flip him off carefully before I point to the table they’re supposed to be going to. 

Charlotte: I just know you’d take such good care of me 

Me: whatever you wanted 

Charlotte: [sends photo]

A small groan escapes as I look at her. In my shirt, she’s peeking over her shoulder into the mirror. She’s definitely holding it up slightly because she’s sat on the counter, her ass perfectly outlined by that god-forsaken lace again. My cock twitches the longer I stare at her. 

Me: for me? 

My mouth goes dry at the thought of seeing her like that in person; the realization that it could happen was hitting me. I look at the time, 11:58 pm, before locking my phone and tossing it back under the bar. 

“You can go if you want,” I tell Josh, leaning into him. 

He scans the room, “Are you positive?” A fair amount of the booths and tables have cleared out at this point and there are just a few stragglers aside from the actual bar. 

“Very. I can handle the rest of the night. Get out of here while it’s still early..ish,” I tell him, grabbing his shoulder with a light squeeze. 

“I will not argue that,” he mutters, “if I’m asleep, love you and goodnight.” He pats my arm a few times as he walks past me. 

Charlotte: just you baby 🤭 

Me: wish i could kiss you right now 

Charlotte: I wish you could do more than that 

Me: don’t think I’d be able to control myself 

Not a lie. I don’t think I’ve ever felt tension like this in my life. The fact I’m stuck here feels like low-grade torture. I grab a towel and some spray, making my rounds throughout the tables. I try to get some of the cleaning done, hoping it’ll help distract me a little. 

My phone vibrates against my leg, and my heart drops, knowing it’s her. 

Charlotte: [sends photo]

“Fuck me,” I quietly mutter to myself. She’s sat on her floor, her hands pulling some of my shirt in between her legs, but not enough to fully hide her lingerie. Her hair was messy and draped over her shoulders. A glorious shot of her tits, so gently pressed into each other. The desperate need to kiss my way up her legs grows stronger as I stare at them. 

Me: Charlotte. 

I wipe the table in front of me slowly so I can give myself a second to chill out before having to turn around. 

Charlotte: yes, Jacob? 

My self-control is on the floor at this point. 

Me: come here

Charlotte: really? 

Me: yes please come here. 

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The moment she walked in, it made the last thirty minutes feel like they hadn’t even happened. She finds her usual seat at the bar, letting a smile sneak onto her face when she gets comfortable. 

Why am I nervous now? 

Bringing over her drink, it’s hard not to notice what she’s wearing. She knows what she’s doing. As I slide it across the bar, I realize that she left the bulk of the shirt unbuttoned and just tucked into her pants carefully. 

“Hi,” she squeaks out, timidly grabbing the glass in front of her. Watching how the glass sits on her lip when she drinks, the movement of her throat when she swallows. I hadn’t thought of what I was doing when I told her to come here. This is worse.

“Hi,” I manage to get out, “you look .. nice.” My eyes trailed down her body, trying not to make it too obvious to anybody else, but the moment I noticed that I could see the same bra she had on in the pictures she sent me, my heart stopped. She must have caught me because she leaned forward in her seat a little, making the shirt shift so I had an even clearer shot of it. 

I slowly blink as my head shakes, taking a subtle deep breath because I still have forty-five minutes before I can kick everybody out. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks coyly. 

“I think you know.” Backing away to make sure everybody else at the bar is good, I feel like I have to manually move my eyes away from her. Why didn’t I tell her to get here later? I have to act normal and I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that right now. 

Thankfully, for me, around 1:30 am is when most people start to head out, so I spend a few minutes grabbing the tabs for people, taking care of those while I feel her eyes on me the entire time. The customers next to her also want to head out, so I bring over their receipt, leaning into the bar a bit purposefully, letting my shirt fall open a little more where I know she can see it. I glance over at her with my eyebrow cocked as I see her eyes shoot up to meet mine. 

“I saw that,” I mumble to her. 

The corners of her lips curling up slightly, she whispers back, “Good.” 

As time crept by, I wonder to myself why I thought having her here would be the better option. We’ve been having staring contests the entire time, not even saying anything to each other, just from across the bar. 

There’s only a few stragglers lingering, so I do one more lap around the tables, making sure to grab anything that was left. But, the moment she’s in my peripheral vision again, my self-control lowers more. 

Strolling up behind her, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around her, I rest my hand on the base of her neck. 

“You doing okay?” I ask, my hand squeezing the back of her neck gently. 

Her head turned a little to try and look at me, “I could be better.” The smile on her face was making me sweat. 

“Give me like ten minutes,” I lean in close to her ear, “I’ll make sure of it.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

 Following the last customers to the door, I flip off the signs as they make their way out. My heart is pounding as I turn the locks over on the doors. The sudden realization that we’re fully alone washes over me, but the need to feel her touch overrides it. 

I turn around to look at her, and she’s already walking over to me. I quickly meet her halfway, my hands pulling her face to me, the desperate need to feel her lips on mine finally relieved as the kiss goes on. Her hands pull on my shirt like she can’t get close enough. Leaning down, I grab the backs of her knees, lifting her up, and her legs wrap around me, never detaching from the kiss. Her hands slide up into my hair as she smiles against my lips. 

Walking her back over, I set her on the bar top, my hands on either side of her. Kissing the side of her neck, I can see her breathing getting heavier. Fiddling with the buttons on my shirt, exposing her. The dark red lace against her pale complexion, holy shit, only looking at her for a moment before trailing kisses down her sternum. My hands find their place around her waist, hovering my mouth over her, looking up at her; she’s intently watching me, letting out a tiny whimper. 

“Please, Jacob,” she breathes out. 

My mouth connects with her instantly; her moan rings through my ears. I slide my hand up, gently pulling the lace away from her, and goosebumps slowly creep in. Letting my thumb graze over her peaked nipple, I press a kiss to her other breast. 

Her thighs tense up with every time I swirl my tongue around her. Moving my hands and spreading her thighs so I can stand between them, pulling her to the edge of the bar. She unbuttons her pants, pushing them down, and lifting herself enough to slide them to her thighs for me. 

“Well, aren’t you an eager little thing?” I mumble, pulling them off her. “Lay back for me, honey?” She practically fell to her elbows, her eyes locked on me. 

Pressing wet kisses down her stomach but stopped as soon as I hit the dainty lace. The nerves of touching her for the first time hit; don’t fuck this up.  I run my hands down her thighs, pushing them further apart before teasingly leaving little kisses closer and closer to where she really wants me to be. 

“Is this okay?” Looking up at her from between her legs. She lets out a breathy ‘yes’; her eyes look desperate for some sort of touch. I plant a kiss over her covered clit, getting the most delicious moan out of her. I can’t resist from pulling the fabric to the side. She’s soaked already. 

One slow lick up her center, and she already dropped her head back. Smiling as I swirl my tongue around her clit, lightly sucking, doing anything to keep the noises coming out of her. She’s so quiet typically, I would have never expected her to be so vocal, but I’m not complaining. 

“Oh my god, Jake,” she moans. The sound of my name falling from her lips has me groaning into her. She tastes so sweet; I can’t get enough of her. You would think I was starving with the way my mouth couldn’t stop. Glancing up at her as my tongue laps around her clit, her eyes meeting mine as she lets out another delicious moan. I tease her with my middle finger, just barely touching her, and she jumps at the feeling. 

“Please,” she whines, still looking down at me. 

“Oh, you want this?” I ask, sliding my middle finger into her and slowly pumping my hand into her, watching her mouth fall open. The wetter she gets, the faster I go. Trying to find just the right spot, needing to make her feel good. Pressing up so slightly as I pull back. The way her mouth opens more; that’s it, sweet girl. 

“Oh- oh my god,” she moans out, “more, please. Please, baby.”  The name makes my heart flutter and my dick twitch; my ring finger joins in, watching her eyes roll back and pressing up into that special place that makes her want to scream. I pump my fingers into her, listening to her pretty moans as she keeps grabbing the edges of the bar like they’re her lifeline. 

“Oh, is that good?” 

 A slew of ‘oh my gods’ and ‘holy shit’ come from her as I start to play with her clit with my other hand. Rubbing little circles to drive her mad, watching her writhe with pleasure, her back arching off the bar. Fuck me. 

“Come for me, honey.” 

I can feel her about to break, dipping my head down and swirling around her quickly with my tongue. Her hands tangled themselves in my hair, holding me there. Groaning into her at the feeling and lifting her leg so I can wrap my arm around her, the back of her knee lands over my shoulder as I’m pulling her into me. 

“Oh- baby, don’t stop, please, please- oh, oh my GOD,” her volume increases as her orgasm hits her, and she’s pulling my hair as she’s practically riding my face. My name has never sounded better than the way she’s yelling it. 

She sits up after a minute, pulling my face to hers and planting a kiss on me. 

“Where did you- how- um, so .. yeah, how did you?” She stumbles over her words, and without stopping, she’s unbuttoning my shirt. I laugh as she’s trying to form a coherent thought. 

“I told you it would be worth it,” I whisper into her ear, placing a kiss just below it. “But, I‘m not done with you yet,” comes out of me, in almost a growl.  Who am I? 

Helping her off the bar, she grabs my arms, turning us around and pushing me back into it. Her hands work my belt and button in my jeans as fast as they can as she’s trailing kisses down my neck. Her hand dipping into my boxers; I let out a groan when she wraps her hand around me. 

“I need you,” slips out of me as she strokes a few times. She presses her lips to mine, mumbling in between kisses, “Please, fuck me, Jacob.” I can’t stop the moan that comes out after that. 

“I don’t have a-,“ I start to whisper when she cuts me off quickly. 

“That's okay,” she tells me, kissing underneath my jaw. I grab her arms, already missing the feeling of her hand on me. Walking her backwards, our heated kisses made it hard to walk straight. I slide the shirt off of her and toss it onto a barstool.  Reaching a table, I spin her around so her back is against my chest, my hands snaking around her small frame. I reach up, softly rubbing small circles over her nipples until her head falls back onto me. 

My right hand crept up, sliding it up her throat until I was holding her jaw. Her mouth opens slightly at the feeling; taking the risk, I lightly rest my finger on her lip. Unprepared for her to immediately tilt her head back up, wrapping her lips around it.

“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath. “Can you bend over for me, honey?” Her tongue swirls around it before  She leans forward onto the table, pushing her ass into me. 

 She knows what she’s doing. My hands slide over her. I squat down for just a second, spreading her open and licking a wide stripe up her. I saw the goosebumps on her skin as I kiss her before standing up. 

I slide my boxers down far enough for my cock to be free, the relief from being out alone. I pull the lace to the side again, lining myself up with her. Slowly pushing into her, she lets out a loud moan. God, she feels good.  I let myself bottom out in her, giving her a second before I move. And myself, to be honest. 

“Baaaby,” she lets out. I hold her hips as I start to pull back, slowly thrusting into her. My own moans start falling out as our pace picks up. Looking down as I push into her, my mouth hangs open; the feeling is surreal. 

“Feel good?” 

She lets out a small ‘yes’ while she arches her back more. The sounds of my hips slapping against her, the way I can feel how wet she is, the feeling as she’s pushing back against my thrusts to feel as full as she can. 

“Holy shit, Charlotte.” 

She looks back at me through her eyelashes and, with the sweetest voice, tells me, “harder.”

 My heart pounds at her words. Without hesitation, I step my left foot up onto the booth, gripping her waist, and start snapping my hips as hard as I can into her. I bite the inside of my lip as her moans get louder while I keep hitting the right spot over and over. Fuck, she feels so good.  Watching how she stretches her arms in front of her, her knuckles white with how hard she’s holding her own hand.  

I bend down, hovering my lips over her ear when I whisper, “I know you have one more for me, honey.” Her moan was enough of a response for me. My necklace barely grazed the skin between her shoulder blades, and I watched the goosebumps flood her skin. I press a kiss against that same spot before standing back up. I grab her arms, pulling her up so her back is pressed against me. My hand dipped in between her legs, finding her clit that was just screaming for my attention. My fingers quickly start working at it, as her chest is heaving at this point, and I can feel her orgasm about to break. Both of us breathe heavily as she tilts her head back, and I sneak a kiss on her neck, letting out a small ‘mmm’ against her skin. 

“Jacob, baby,” she moans. 

“Tell me,” I groaned back to her. 

“I’m gonna-“ is all she gets out before her jaw goes slack and her eyes are fixed shut.

“Let it out,” I whisper as I pound into her.  She's moaning loudly in my ear, pulling my hand away when she starts to get too sensitive. I slow my hips down so she can recover, watching the soft smile settle on her lips. She pulls my arms around her, leaning her head back against me until she shifts slightly, and we both remember that I’m still buried inside her. 

“Hun, I’m not gonna last much longer,” I tell her quietly before I press a kiss to her temple. She taps my hip a few times so I’d back up. She drops down and just, with no thought, slides my cock into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around it as she bobs her head up and down the length of it. Using her hands on whatever she can’t comfortably do with her mouth. And god, is she good at it. 

The thought of her doing this after she just came on me inches me closer. I glance down to see her looking back up at me, and the visual alone has me two seconds away from finishing. 

“I’m so close, don’t stop,” it’s my turn to whimper. She pushes it further into her mouth, she swallows around me and I’m done for. One of my hands found its place on the back of her head, fighting the urge to thrust into her. 

“Fuck, Charlotte—“ Practically yelling her name as I release into her throat, her hands working me through it. Swallowing as she stands up, she presses a gentle kiss on my lips. I can’t believe that just happened. 

“Well, um,” I mumble, breathing heavily and wrapping my arms around her, “that was..” 

“So fucking good.” She giggles, tucking her face into me, mumbling, “You’re so hot.”

My face feels warm when she says it; she thought it was that good?  We stand there for a few minutes, just laughing, as she’s curled up in my arms. 

“Wanna just sleep here?”

“Only if you’ll carry me up the stairs,” she says with a little smirk, her hands pressed against my chest, “I don’t think my legs could do it right now.” 

“You’re gonna give me a complex,” I laugh, kissing her forehead, “get dressed real quick.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After pretending to be Prince Charming and carrying her up the two flights of stairs, we both immediately crawl into bed. She makes herself comfortable, tugging my arm over her so she can back herself into me and wiggling her ass against my dick. 

“Hey now,” I mumble, “don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.” 

Her soft laughs fill the room, “Who said I wouldn’t finish it?” 

“Charlotte.”

“What, baby?” Her voice taunts me as she slides her hand into mine and arching her back a little. My entire body feels like it’s full of butterflies. 

My face tucked into her, I quietly laughed while pressing kisses to the top of her shoulder. If she keeps calling me that, I don’t know how I’m going to ever say no to her. I kiss the side of her neck, pulling her body tight against mine before whispering into her ear, “You’re gonna have to stay quiet this time. Can you do that for me, honey?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Sixteen

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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[princessmaybank]

Im so so sorry. I requested but completely forgot to say who I wanted it with. Can you do prompts 6 and 14 from the Cherry Red prompt list??? Congrats on 5k you deserve it

😭😭

Sorry this took so long baby! You sent a few of these but we got it cleared up! I hope you like it!

No Touching

Pairings: JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, kissing, mutual masterbation, etc.

Summary: JJ sees your bruises and doesn't want to hurt you, he comes up with a plan to get you both off.

Author's Note: Not my best work, but I hope you like it!

She came running in with tear stained cheeks, soaking wet, and bruises all over her exposed skin. Y/N hadn't even said anything yet and my blood was boiling. John B was at Sarah's, everyone else was at their respective homes, and I wouldn't be caught dead at my house at the moment.

She immediately ran into my open arms. I held her as we stood in the middle of the living room. Y/N cried into my chest and with each sob it shattered my heart a little bit more. I suddenly remembered that she had those bruises. Careful not to hurt her, I pull her away from me so I can stare into her eyes. "Who did this to you?" I asked through gritted teeth, ready to tear apart the asshole who dared to lay a fucking finger on her. She was shaking as she gave me a name, barely above a whisper, but I heard it. That name was all I needed before I was stomping my way to the screen door, ready to charge through the thunderstorm outside to beat Rafe Cameron's ass. I would've too if I wasn't yanked backwards by a small tug around my bicep. I turned to face Y/N, trying to calm my heavy breathing.

"Please stay here. Don't leave me." She cried. Her voice broke on every word. I couldn't leave her like this, broken and hurt, so I decided to stay for her. My arms enveloped her shivering body making sure not to squeeze her and cause more pain.

"I'm tired. So tired.." She choked out. I led her to the guest bedroom before pulling out some clothes for her to change into. After I handed them to her I turned to walk out of the room but I felt that same small tug on my bicep again.

"Can you help me Jay? It's hard to move in certain ways." She frowned. "Oh, of course.." I tried not to stutter. She walked over to me and started to try and lift her arms over her head. "Hey, hey, slow and easy okay? One step at a time." I smiled at her. She smiled back and slowly began to move. I grabbed the bottom of her shirt and slowly lifted, revealing more bruises on her torso.

I soothed her as I continued to remove her clothes. After she was left in her bra and panties I stepped back for a moment. I needed to grab the clothes from the bed but I couldn't help my eyes from running all over her body. The red and purple marks lacing her skin were enough to make my eyes water. Y/N is the most kind hearted and beautiful person I have ever known. Rafe Cameron never deserved her. He is already the biggest asshole on planet earth but to take Y/N, the sweetest woman in the entire fucking universe, for granted, now that's a new fucking low. Next time I see him I will fucking murder him. She deserves so much better.

Suddenly I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard her light voice. "What did you say? Sorry.." I asked. "I said, are you just going to stare at me all day or are you going to do something about it Jay.." She smiled and waltzed over to me. She lightly placed her hands on my hips. Her bright E/C eyes were shining as she stared into mine. "I-I don't wanna hurt you Y/N.." I answered shyly. "I trust you with my life Jay.."

Before I knew it, we were on the couch, with each other's tongues down our throats. Her hips were jutting against mine. "Fuck are you sure about this Y/N?" I ask and pull away. "I've never been more sure, Jay." She smiled and stood up, her hand reached for mine and she led me to the bedroom. She closed the door and walked back over to me. "Hey uhm..can we take it slower?" I asked. I would usually jump at this opportunity but I couldn't help but think about how much pain she was in. I don't want to hurt her more.

She nodded in agreement before sitting next to me and started leaning in for a kiss. It took so much in me to keep my hands off of her, even though she wanted me to touch her. Our kiss led to me hovering over her, caressing her sides. She winced under my touch like it was too much. I pulled my hands away and continued to kiss her.

Fuck this was difficult! I couldn't touch her, but she wanted me to. "I-I can't I'm sorry Y/N." I pulled away and sat up. She hung her head low and whispered an apology. "No, no, don't be sorry Y/N. It's not your fault. And believe it or not, I really wanna touch you." I tried to comfort her from where I was sitting. "Really?" She asked through some tears. I nodded and gave her a smile. "Do you see what you do to me?" I chuckle and point to my hard-on which makes her giggle. "If it makes you feel better I'm extremely wet." She giggled and her cheeks tinted red. "I have an idea." I say before pulling my shorts down, my underwear follows shortly behind. I sat back down and started stroking myself. My head fell back as small whimpers released from me. I sat back and looked back to Y/N to see her with a shocked look on her face. "Oh fuck, close your mouth Y/N, not until you're ready to use it.." I whine and she surprisingly obeys. I stroked myself for a little bit longer while she watched me. "Your turn, princess." My pumps slowed down. "What?" She was embarrassed. Her eyes popped out of her head and her cheeks grew more red by the second. "Play with yourself princess." I said as I continued to stroke myself. I watched as her hand gently creeped between her legs. She started teasing herself through her shorts. "Fuck-" I whispered.

Y/N started to take her shorts off, leaving her panties on for a few moments. She teased herself by pulling her underwear harshly against her clit. My mouth was practically watering at this point. A small gasp came from her lips before she pulled her panties off. "C'mon princess, touch yourself for me." I whispered. Soon after, she brought her fingers down to her clit. I watched as her eyes closed and she shifted to get comfortable. Her tongue briefly came out to wet her lips as her fingers worked in small circles. I matched her pace with my stroking. Her eyes stayed closed but her mouth was wide, letting out pretty little noises. Her fingers circled faster. "Oh fuck Jay-" She moaned out and I nearly busted. I never thought I would hear her say my name this way. My hand went up and down faster as she continued to toy with herself. I still matched her pace making sure we would be ready around the same time. "C'mon princess, cum for me.." I panted. I sped up my motions and she did too. A few curses later from both of us and we both came at the same time. My name released from her mouth as I called her princess at the same time.

Her cum soaked the bedsheets under her as mine spilled into my hand. I smiled at her before walking to the bathroom to get a rag. I washed my hands so I could clean her up when I got back. I sat next to her on the bed again before gently wiping up her beautiful mess. "That was fun." She giggled. "Just wait until I can use my hands." I smiled and winked at her.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Frozen Ground: Part 2 (Din Djarin x Female Reader)

Content & Warnings: Mandalorian culture, romantic fluff, breeding kink / undertones, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (it’s fantasy, wrap it up), creampie, multiple positions, happy ending

Word Count: 5k

Din travels to a farming planet to recruit a reclusive group of Mandalorians to help retake Mandalore. The snowy season is starting, and the locals are preparing for their winter observance. While waiting for the Mandalorian covert to come to a decision, Din spends time with the local population, finding a bit of comfort with a particular someone.

A/N: Part of the Winter 2023 Collection

Part 1

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart ka’rta beskar – iron heart mesh’la – beautiful ner dala – my woman riduur – partner / spouse

That evening, after everyone eats, another meeting is held.

Din does not speak during the entire discussion. Right now, his voice is not wanted. They’ve heard him, and they must decide as a covert whether to follow him to Nevarro.

He leans against a wall at the back of the communal area. Grogu is at Din’s feet and periodically reaches out to him with one arm, indicating he wants another berry. Din fishes out the little fruits and hands them one-by-one to Grogu who eagerly stuffs each round berry into his mouth. His little, three-fingered hand is dripping with juice, and the area around his mouth is stained a deep red.

Crix and Jido are with them, standing off to Din’s left, watching the whole affair just like Din. Even though the two men are only acquaintances, their presence is comforting. Mandalorians are strongest together even if they come from different tribes.

So far, most of the meeting has been spent debating. Whoever wants to speak is allowed to, and everyone else must listen without interrupting. Every voice must be heard, which is difficult for any Mandalorian. It is in their nature to act, not to sit around in philosophical thought.

A male Mandalorian in golden armor sits down. Another stands to take his place, beginning their monologue.

Crix leans toward Din and Din turns his head slightly in acknowledgement. “She’s pretty,” murmurs Crix.

“Who?” asks Din flatly, knowing exactly who Crix is referring to.

“Really?” snorts Crix.

Din runs his tongue along his top teeth. “What about her?”

Crix leans in a bit more, lowering his voice. “You should approach her.”

What would be the point? You are not Mandalorian. There is no future there. Din grits his teeth, his hand forming into a fist as he tries to calm himself. Not having you, knowing that he cannot be with you, is a gut-punch. The Way of the Mand’alor always comes first.

“Why?” Din keeps his tone neutral. “She is not Mandalorian. How would that work?” The words coming out of his mouth feel hollow. Din is almost resentful of them.

Crix laughs softly, and one of the nearby Mandalorians listening turns around abruptly. Crix waits until their attention returns to the middle of the room. “Why should it matter whether she is Mandalorian? Several of our tribe were once members of the very same farming community. To walk the path of a Mandalorian is often a lonely one. Why not make it a bit less so?”

Din shakes his head, not understanding. “This is common for your tribe?”

Crix shrugs. “Yes. Is it not with yours?”

Din steps around Crix’s question by asking one of his own. “But you don’t remove your helmets?” Even with the helmet on, Din can sense the confusion on Crix’s end.

“I’m not sure what life is like for your tribe,” says Crix slowly. “For us, we only remove our helmets in front of immediate family. That includes our riduur and our younglings.” Crix glances down at Grogu and adds, “or foundlings.” He sighs. “This is the Way.”

Jido, who has mostly been quiet this whole time softly repeats it back.

Crix nudges Din’s arm with his elbow. “You don’t need to remove your helmet to make a youngling.”

The very idea of Din doing such a thing with you warms him everywhere and sends blood rushing to his groin. He needs to stop focusing on this and focus on the betterment of all Mandalorians.

The same Mandalorian who turned around minutes ago does it again, glaring behind their helmet.

Din pays them no mind, returning his attention toward the middle of the room. There are plenty of members of the tribe who vehemently disagree with returning and many more who wish to go. Each Mandalorian who stands and speaks has a solid point. They all have a clear and thoughtful response to Din’s message.

And nothing is solved. No one comes to an agreement.

Din will be here longer than expected if this the rate they’re moving. He hasn’t even contacted Bo-Katan to give her an update. What can he tell her? That he has made no progress?

When the covert ends discussions and begins to break apart, Din picks Grogu off the floor, tucking the foundling close to his heart.

“Sleep well, Din Djarin,” says Crix, tipping his helmet in a goodbye. “I’ll come by in the morning.”

Crix stays true to his word, and this time, Din brings Grogu with him. Jido, Ran, and Cerra all tag along as well. They respectfully keep their distance, mostly focusing on walking the streets and keeping an eye on the settlement.

Snow falls in light swells from the sky, and covers the tops of the buildings. Grogu coos, his little hand reaching toward the flakes as he tries to catch them. Every time he does, and he draws his hand to his face for a look, the snowflakes have melted.

Grogu’s ears droop as he presents his hand to Din.

“You run too warm. Melts when it touches you,” replies Din to Grogu’s silent question.

Grogu’s head tilts to the side and then he’s back to watching the falling snow.

Crix draws up to Din side. “Are you going to approach her?”

Din sighs, unsure of how to answer. He wants to, but his obligation to his tribe and his people gives him pause.

Crix nods at Din’s silence, and then tips his helmet toward the right. “Whatever you’re thinking about, decide fast because she’s heading your way.”

Din immediately straightens, his helmet pivoting to locate you. There is a soft, unsure, almost demure smile on your face.

“Is this little one yours?” you ask.

“This is Grogu.”

At the sound of his name, Grogu perks up, his ears flaring slightly.

“Hello, Grogu,” you croon. With delicate movements, you gently clasp Grogu’s small hand and shake it in greeting. Grogu’s coo is a pleased one, and Din carefully wraps this memory up for safekeeping.

You let go of Grogu’s hand and look up into Din’s t-shaped visor. He knows that you cannot see his face, but yet he still feels vulnerable under your stare. Your attention pleases him.

“May I seek your assistance with something?” you ask, clasping your hands in front of you.

“Anything,” says Din automatically.

Crix and Ran snort. Cerra punches Ran in the arm and shushes them both.

You shrug sheepishly. “I know you’re a Mandalorian and you’re used to more…strenuous work.” Someone snorts after the word strenuous, and then Cerra is shushing the other Mandalorians again. “But most of the women who usually help me are unavailable,” you continue. “They have other matters to attend to, and I could really use the help. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

You sigh, relief spreading across your face. It’s beautiful, and Din has to resist reaching out to brush the curve of your bottom lip.

“I’ll take the young one,” says Crix, stepping up to Din.

For a brief moment, Din doesn’t want to hand Grogu over, but Crix’s reasons for doing so suddenly come flaring to life in Din’s mind. Crix keeps pushing him to be alone with you. Deciding to take the chance, Din slowly removes the strap of the bag from over his shoulder, handing the precious bundle over to Crix.

Grogu makes a little sound and then Crix, Jido, Ran, and Cerra are walking away. Din watches them go. When they disappear around a corner, you lead Din to the small building where you placed the necklace around his neck and kissed his cheeks. As you lead him inside, Din sees that no one else is there.

There are only two illuminated lights along with the uncovered window. Under the window is a heater that pumps in warm air. There are several of those canvas bags stacked in the middle room of the room Din noticed the other day.

“I need help separating the flowers from the nettle. It’s time consuming and the young boys who went out this morning to gather it all didn’t take their time. It’s all jumbled together.” Your hands move in the air as you explain, almost like it’s a nervous habit. It’s cute, and Din doesn’t realize how close he’s actually standing to you until one of your wandering arms knocks into his chest plate.

He steps back as your gaze softens. Separating flowers from nettle seems like a vacation compared to Din’s usual work. “I’m happy to help,” he says, meaning every word.

You gaze drops to a point near his waist. “You still have the one I gave you.”

Din looks down at the Daily Strand attached to his hip. “Yes.”

“We replace a new one each day. I can do that now if you like?”

Din shakes his head. “Afterward.” It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever had to say, because Din wants to say yes. He wants you to put another one around his neck and receive your kisses even if he cannot feel them against his skin.

You guide him to one of the bags, and the two of you kneel next to them. The bags are heavy, nearly overflowing, but Din selects one and begins sorting. He understands what you mean the moment he opens one up. It’s an absolute mess.

The nettle is sharp, even Din can feel it through his gloves, and you’re working without any. He sees the flinch, notices your gentle recoil from the constant poking. You try to hide it, and when your fingers bleed, you attempt to discreetly mask the red that blooms on your fingers.

“Do you have gloves?”

“No,” you reply, shaking your head. “And I can’t seem to locate a spare from anyone. It’s not bad. Really.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Din reaches out but you pull back.

He’s having none of it. Din grabs your wrist and tugs you forward, but the momentum is too great. You go tumbling into his lap. Din’s back hits the floor and your hands fly out to steady yourself, landing on his chest.

The two of you hang suspends like this. There is Din flat on his back and you straddling his hips, hands firmly planted on his chest, your face dangerously close to his helmet. Din’s hands float in the air on either side of you.

You and Din linger like this until the reality of the position seeps in. Din doesn’t drop his hands to his sides or try to lift you off his lap. Instead, his hands drift closer, resting on your hips. When you do not pull away, Din’s hand slide lower, squeezing your thighs. The little sound you make goes straight to his groin.

He immediately sits up, but he does not allow you to slide off his lap. Din won’t let you get away. One of his arms slides behind your waist, securing you against him, drawing you closer. Idling in this closeness, every temptation to run away with you scorches in Din’s blood.

Yet it is you that speaks first. “I’m not really in the mood for sorting flowers anymore,” you murmur.

“I’m not either,” answers Din, his voice raspy and low.

You lick your lips, and his gaze follows it. “There’s a backroom.”

By the time the suggestion is leaving your mouth, Din is already up, keeping you against him. “Show me,” he growls, no longer able to contain the fire burning within his blood.

You nod in the direction of the back wall. Din’s helmet turns and he sees the panel. Din strides forward, legs pumping as he keeps you aloft with one hand while smashing the button for the door. It slides open and Din steps in with you.

It’s cramped, more of a storage space than anything. There is a plain table pushed against the wall, and a full shelving unit next to it. Din deposits you on the table, his gloved hands reaching for your hips. Din is eager. He has you alone.

He moves closer, stepping into the space your spread legs create, sliding an arm around your waist. Din’s helmet dips forward, and he breathes in your scent, sighing.

You are not immune. You tuck yourself against his chest, leaning into his touches, and Din is downright prideful. This is your reaction to him. You are warm and comforting, a small source of light that Din wishes to carry with him whenever he is in the dark.

To sink into you, to lose himself entirely, would be a gift.

Din’s hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Slowly, the tips of your fingers trace the edge of his chest plate. Then, they drift up, running along the edge of his helmet.

“Is this okay?” you ask softly. You do not reach out to remove his helmet. Other women have tried to, and Din always has to draw their hands away from him.

“Yes,” he murmurs, and your gentle smile spurs him to action.

Din does not linger on your hips. He explores and touches, running his gloved hands over bare and covered skin. The skirts of your dress are up around your thighs, and Din takes this opportunity to slip his hand underneath the fabric.

The moment he makes contact with your inner thigh, you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his arms where there is no armor. The way you cling to Din pleases a primal part of him. He wants to possess you, to draw you into himself until he alone can call you his.

But the touch is not enough. Din needs closeness. He needs skin against skin.

Tearing his hand away from your thigh, Din pulls on the fingers of his glove until the fabric gives. He tosses it onto the table, and returns his now bare hand to your inner thigh. You both groan, and Din squeezes your flesh, reveling in your warmth.

He wants to be inside you. His body is blazing, calling out for you like oxygen.

Din’s fingers drift closer until his middle finger parts your sex. The tip of his finger catches on your entrance, and it’s very clear to Din just how wet you are.

Something inside him snaps. Burns bright. Neither of you are leaving this room until he’s claimed you properly.

Din draws the wetness up, dragging it over you until he finds the thing he’s seeking. He swirls the tip of his finger around your clit. Your own fingers dig into him deeper, your lips parting slightly as you inhale.

“Mesh’la,” murmurs Din, as he slides his finger inside.

You moan loudly, head tipping backward as he begins to pump his hand between your legs. The hem of your dress is bunched and covering up his view. The desire to rip your clothing from your body roils up unbidden, and it takes every molecule of control for Din not to follow through.

Your legs fall open wider, and the hem of your dress stretches, exposing you to Din’s gaze. Now that he can watch, Din is unable to look away. He is enraptured with the way his finger disappears inside your welcoming body, only to retreat, coated in glossy wetness.

Unable to help himself, Din inserts a second finger, curling them slightly to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. It pleases Din, but it’s not enough. He rotates his wrist and presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing in slow circles.

It isn’t until you’re clenching around him, whimpering, that Din realizes you’re falling apart. Your moans are sweet, and Din doesn’t stop moving until your body starts to relax. He holds his fingers inside of you while your chest heaves.

“Can I keep touching you, cyar’ika?” asks Din, his helmet dipping until his forehead almost rests against your own.

You nod frantically. “Please.”

Your desire to continue, the need to keep going also fuels his own. Din strokes his thumb across your clit. It’s the perfect flick, and you tense up, squeezing around him. Din is pleased at how easily you fall apart for him.

Din does not pause. He keeps going until the muscles in your legs tense and involuntarily clamp around his hips. Your hips jerk with aftershocks, and you slip, falling onto your elbows as your eyelids flutter with pleasure.

“You’re teasing me,” you groan.

“Am I?” Din asks innocently, his thumb stroking against your clit yet again. He is a man on a mission. He wants you wet. Dripping. Ready.

The only response you manage to muster is another groan, and this is enough for Din. He continues to pump those two fingers in and out until your wetness coats the top of the table beneath you.

If he weren’t wearing his helmet, Din would taste you. He wants to understand your taste, to put his fingers in his mouth to know your flavor. He wants to imprint it on his memory. He never wants to forget. Whether the two of you can truly be together is irrelevant. This moment—this interaction—is enough for Din if it is all he can have with you.

But Din does not taste you. Instead, he coaxes you toward another orgasm, guiding you toward it until you fall over the edge, smashing into the ground below in a wordless, choked, cry. Your back arches, hips rolling outward, meeting his fingers until the wordlessness leaves you and you’re openly begging.

Din gently removes his fingers and holds them up before his face. The glossy pleasure drips onto his knuckles and the back of his hand. While you cannot see his face, Din is watching yours, and the way you observe him through half-closed eyelids, a beautifully lusty gaze settling over your features.

With exaggerated slowness, Din tugs on the hidden zipper at the front of his flightsuit. Once it’s undone, he guides it open, unsheathing his cock. It’s been aching and hard this entire time, and he uses the wetness on his fingers to coat himself.

Your lips part, form a soft o. Then his hands are on your hips, guiding you to the very edge of the table, lining himself up, the tip pressing but not venturing further.

“May I?” asks Din softly, not understanding this odd feeling in his chest. It’s a fear of rejection, as if you’ll take everything back and push him away.

The smile on your lips tells Din everything he needs to know before you even speak. “Please. I want this. I want you.”

At your gentle plea, Din surrenders. You’re so wet, Din glides right in. You groan, your legs falling wider to accommodate him.

“Ner dala,” murmurs Din, thrusting gently as your warmth stretches to accommodate him.

He rolls his hips until you take more and more of him. It’s only when Din is completely inside of you that he pauses, holding there as your walls flutter and flex. It sends Din’s limbs into coiling tension.

Din’s next thrust hits deep. He impales you, sheathing himself entirely. He holds there for only a moment, one hand moving to your stomach to keep you firmly in place as you fall back against the table.

He stretches forward, resting one hand on your stomach while the other presses into the table next to your head. Din anchors himself, leans forward, and groans at the feeling of your body adapting to accommodate his change in position.

It’s kriffing sinful, and now Din understands why the local covert has absorbed some of the local planet’s citizens. If this were his life, he’d convince you to take the Creed, to join with him, and be by his side.

Then, he has is way with you, setting a pace that has you begging for him. You take him in, pussy stretching around and squeezing him. Din is relentless, hips rolling forward and back until the table creaks and bangs against the wall. Your fingers grab and pull at him, and your desperate need to touch him only fuel’s Din’s desire more.

Din’s brain is buzzing, his body screaming for release. You’ve lost your words, the little pleas falling from your lips now transformed into sharp exhalations. But you are wanton, and Din catches sight of your hand sliding between your bodies, fingers searching for your clit. When you do find it, it only takes a few flicks and then Din feels you clamping down around him, squeezing, drawing him further into your body.

“Kriffing hell,” groans Din, grinding forward, his hand sliding away from your stomach to grab onto your hip. He needs to anchor himself somehow or he’ll be quick to follow.

Your hand slips away, and then Din resumes, knowing that his end will come swiftly.

“Say my name, cyar’ika. Beg for me. Tell me you're mine.”

“Din,” you moan, legs locking around his back. “Please. I’m yours.”

Din rolls his hips a few more times and still, creating a seal as he empties himself inside you. His hand against the table slips, and Din goes down on an elbow, trapping you against the table as his breathing become heavy and labored.

The two of you cling to each other, and Din is reluctant to let go.

One of your legs starts to slip and Din catches it, guiding it softly back to the table. You place your hands on his chest and push slightly, indicating you want to sit up.

Groaning, Din slides out of your body, immediately wanting your warmth again. Before your dress can fall over the mess, Din glimpses the pearly white of his release pooling at your entrance.

The skirts of your dress fall into place, and Din pretends like he wasn’t just gazing on the results of your mating. He discreetly tucks himself back into his flightsuit as you fidget with the sleeves of your dress.

Are you nervous? Embarrassed? Din hopes not. He isn’t ashamed of what the two of you did. With gentle tenderness, Din guides you off the table and onto your feet. You’re a little wobbly and Din is immediately alert.

“Did I harm you?”

Your eyes widen slightly. “No. Of course not.” Your gaze drops to your feet but he catches your flustered lopsided grin.

Din simmers with smugness behind his helmet. He returns his glove to his hand, only to reach out and tug on a strand of your hair in a playful gesture. You immediately step into him, and Din sees this as a victory.

“May I have that Daily Strand you offered.”

“Of course,” you murmur, sliding your hand in his.

“The two of you made a youngling.”

Din turns on Crix. “We did not make a youngling.”

“You sure? I can smell—”

Din holds up a hand. “Be careful of your next words.”

Crix throws his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m happy for you. Really. Us Mandalorians struggle to grow in number.”

Crix isn’t entirely wrong. Once the two of you returned to the main room to keep sorting, it wasn’t long before Din had you pinned beneath him, moaning his name. You make him vulnerable, and while in any other situation Din would despise that, with you, he enjoys it. With you, he doesn’t feel judged or unwanted. It’s a different kind of want Din feels with his tribe. They value his skills, but you value him for everything else.

This meeting is just as unproductive as yesterday’s. There is no progress, but Din is thankful there isn’t a regression. After all this, he doesn’t want to return to Bo-Katan without this tribe in tow. They are a fairly large covert, easily numbering in the hundreds.

The next day, Din is right back with you, sneaking off to your private home on the very edge of the settlement.

“Hold on to me, cyar’ika. Don’t let go.”

Your fingers dig into the fabric of his flightsuit, and your forehead rests against his helmet. Your warm breath fogs the beskar with each exhalation.

Din reclines in a large chair with you straddling him, knees pressed into the cushion of the chair. Din grips your hips, guiding them forward and back, gliding you up and down his cock.

Those delicate fingers of your slide upward, curling around the edge of the flightsuit, pulling until there is a faint sliver of skin. Din does not stop you. Your mouth presses against that flesh. Kissing, sucking, nipping over and over until Din is bouncing you on him, his head falling back to revealing more of that skin to you.

Your mouth opens, comes down on his throat, sucking, and Din groans loudly, slamming your hips down on him as he finishes. When you pull away, Din is quick to lift you out of the chair and into his arms, moving toward the small bed in the corner.

You giggle the whole way, and then shriek in playful surprise when he tosses you down onto the bedding. It isn’t long until Din guides you onto your hands and knees, sliding back inside.

He wants to stay here, to linger with you, but he knows that this will end. That he will have to leave. But for now—for the moment—Din will enjoy the time he does have.

That is how it goes. For almost two weeks, the covert debates, and between their debates, Din goes to you, falling into your arms with eagerness. Then it all comes to a crashing halt. It is a blow that Din knows is coming and yet still takes him by surprise.

“We will join Lady Bo-Katan Kryze’s efforts to reclaim Mandalore.” Vikal stands with the other leaders of the tribe, addressing Din in the early morning light.

“When can we leave?”

“Immediately,” answers Vikal. “Within the next few hours.”

“I will contact Nevarro and tell them to expect us.”

Vikal and the other leaders place their clenched fists over their hearts, bowing slightly. Din does the same. As they depart, Crix steps up beside Din, watching them walk away.

“Would you like to go to her?” asks Crix. “Tell her you’re leaving?”

“Is there time?”

Crix nods. “I’ll see that you get it.”

When Din arrives at the farming settlement, and locates your home, it’s a slash across his heart. As he steps inside and sees you there, standing to greet him, Din’s resolve starts to faulter. He is not immediately walking toward you, and as you realize this, your face falls, concern replacing the joy.

“You have to leave,” you say simply.

“I do.”

“For your tribe?”

“For my people.”

You glide across the floor like a phantom. As you draw close, you lift your hand, and press your palm against the side of Din’s helmet. He leans into it, his own hand cradling yours.

“Then go, with all my love leaving with you.”

Din shakes his head. “You cannot give that to me.”

“My love is for me to share. And I place it with you.” Your other hand gently rises and then rests against the ka’rta beskar, the iron heart in the middle of every Mandalorian’s chest plate.

Slowly, Din removes your hand from his helmet, only to press it against the spot where his lips would be if he weren’t wearing it. Din reaches out, draws you against him, the two of you standing in that little room in quiet contemplation.

Din is reluctant to leave, but he pulls away, aching within his heart with every step.

The Great Forge burns bright and hot.

The uncovered faces around Din glow with pride. They are stained with joyful tears. While Din also feels the same, while he also feels victorious and proud of his people, there is one person that lingers in the recesses of his thoughts.

Of the last Daily Strand he received, there is only a single petal left. Din keeps it tucked inside a pocket of his flightsuit, and when no one is watching, he removes it, rubbing the delicate petal softly between his fingers.

The deed is done. Mandalore belongs to the Mandalorians again, but there is still a missing piece within Din. A shape that is simply an empty hole. Bo-Katan told him he is not obligated to stay, but that his presence is a welcome one.

Din watches from the back of the crowd, and decides that he needs to do what is best for him.

The N1 lands on frozen ground.

It is deep winter on Itera, and the snow crunches beneath his boots. The people walking around all greet him like the first time he stepped beyond the wall. Din knows the path. He knows where to go.

When he stands before your door, he hesitates, unsure if he should just go inside. He almost debates turning back, and he does, briefly.

“Din?”

His voice is a question. It is you, asking. Din glances over his shoulder and then turns his upper body in the direction of your voice. There is a momentary pause, a second where everything stands still.

The basket in your hand falls, and then the two of you are falling into the snow together. You are real and warm and wonderful in his arms.

“You came back,” you whisper, your breath turning to steam in the air.

Din tugs you closer, presenting the petal he’s kept all this time. Your lips pull back into a wide grin that stretches toward your ears.

“I need a new one.”

You lean in. Kiss the beskar helmet on the right and then left side. “Is that all you want?”

Din’s gloved hand brushes against the curve of your jaw. “No. It’s not everything.”

Part 1

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[pimosworld]

Moonshine

TLOU x Triple Frontier crossover AU

Pairing-Joel Miller x f!reader x Francisco morales

Summary-You we’re a bartender at Joel’s place and everyone knew you were his but when you meet Francisco Morales you wonder if there’s room in your life for one more.

Rating-18+,NSFW, MDNI

Content warnings- alcohol consumption, cursing,smut,angst,fluff,violence,unprotected piv, mentions of mm dynamics, soft dom Joel.

Wk-5k

Chapter summary-Joel gets dirty in his office and Frankie and Moonshine get to know each other a little better.

New characters- Link to characters who have been or will be introduced.

A/N- See series Masterlist for full story notes. Joel loves getting it in his office and we start things off slow with Frankie but I promise it’s coming for the three of them. Don’t be too hard on my French

Not beta read

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Chapter III Breaking the Ice

“Don’t bullshit me Fish, I saw the way you were looking at her.” Will paces the small apartment situated above the bar. 

  “I’m a man with eyes, I’m allowed to look. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna do anything.” He points to Santi leaning against the wall. 

  “Don’t bring me into this hermaño, I already paid for what I did.” Santi had a reputation for fucking people he shouldn’t and he evidently fucked the wrong firefly. Hence the reason they went on the run. 

  Frankie would be lying if he didn’t admit to having inappropriate thoughts about you and Joel but he was here to do a job and try to stay in one place. It wasn’t safe moving around as often as they did, they couldn’t afford to lose another person. 

  “Pope let’s go, I don’t want to be late for our meeting with Joel.” Santi looks at the other two men apologetically as he follows Will out the door. 

  “Don’t worry Fish, you know he’s always jumpy when we get to a new place.” Ben plops down on the couch in the middle of the room stretching his legs across Frankie’s. He’s never been keen on personal space. 

  “He’s right though Ben, I felt something last night that I haven’t felt in a long time. How am I supposed to do my job with her looking at me that way?” 

  “Don’t think I missed the way Joel was looking at you…I think you should just ignore Will, he needs to get laid.” 

  “I think we should all keep it in our pants for the time being.” Frankie’s not sure how long he’ll be able to take his own advice. 

  “All bets are off with Santi, he’s already got his eye on Charity.” At least his current love interest seemed trustworthy if Joel was willing to employ her. 

  Ben stands abruptly from the couch as he mimics a fight with the air. “I hope there’s some action tonight.” The amount of unbridled energy he had was beyond words. 

  “Well I hope tonight is uneventful. I’ve had enough action for a lifetime.” 

  “I doubt that Fish.” Ben waggles his eyebrows at the older man as he resumes his fight with a ghost. 

  “I was gonna ask if you wanted some coffee but I don’t think you need anything.” He stands slowly from the couch wondering when his knees got so creaky. 

  “I’m actually gonna head back to my apartment until it’s time for work, knock when you want to head down.” He pulls him into a tight hug, never shying away from affection. He was more open than his brother and Frankie enjoyed that despite their circumstances Benny always kept a jovial outlook on life. 

  Frankie’s left alone still having several hours until his shift starts at the bar. Plenty of time to get a grip on what he was doing. 

  ****

  Joel left earlier than you to meet Santi and Will at the bar, which left you plenty of time to get ready for the night. After your early wake up, he beckoned you back to bed to spend a few more hours between the sheets. 

  This relaxed carefree Joel was so nice to see after he’s spent so much time worrying about others. He opened up to you often about how much guilt he felt in not being able to keep his daughter safe. The guilt compounded with Tommy’s death. You know he worries about you no matter how long it’s been. 

  You checked your appearance making sure you looked appropriate for the walk to the bar, a modest pair of jeans and your signature combat boots. It wasn’t uncommon for you to pack a bag of different clothes to wear during your shift. Joel wasn’t one of those guys who wanted you to dress a certain way but you knew better than to draw unwanted attention walking around the QZ alone. 

  You felt safe enough with it still being daylight but you had your black skirt and weathered Prince shirt your sister gave to you that you cropped once the hem started to fray tucked away in your bag. The bar was the place you could be yourself, you felt so confident and Joel always made you feel like you could walk on water. 

  It’s not like you were trying to seduce Frankie or maybe you were. You had never done anything like this before, having to impress someone you were interested in. You were hoping you weren’t reading into the situation all wrong. 

  Joel swept you off your feet within days of meeting him but this felt different. You didn’t want to scare him away by saying my boyfriend (your boss) and I are interested in you. It doesn’t really roll off the tongue. But Joel had all but reassured you this morning that he meant what he said. Why don’t you get to know him? Getting to know him seemed like the best place to start. 

  ****

  You approach the brick building with a non distinct door and the only indication of a functioning business is the neon green open sign. The only difference is the usually quiet atmosphere inside is bustling with noise as you open the door. 

  Ben slightly startles you as he slides up behind you dropping his voice low. 

  “What’s your business here ma’m?” You turn to face him and he’s got the widest grin on his face you’ve ever seen. 

  “First of all it's Miss and secondly I know the owner.” He closed the small space between you while you both engage in a stare down, neither of you wanting to break. You have to crane your neck to look at him and you’re sure the sight is ridiculous. 

  He picks you up abruptly causing you to burst into laughter. 

  “Sorry Miss, I’m not one for formal introductions but seeing as I also know the owner I figured this was fine.” He sets you down and you hug him properly like someone you’ve known your entire life. He had that energy about him that would make anyone feel like family. He was after all. 

  “I have a serious question.” He smooths his hands along his shirt as he steps back. You nod in permission to continue. 

  “Does this shirt make me look intimidating?” He flexes his arms above his head. 

  “To be honest with you…the shirt is the least intimidating thing about you.” He deflates a little and gives you a confused look as you lightly pat his cheek with your hand. 

  You see Charity leaning against the bar which she usually managed just fine during the slow hours when you were home. Santi is seated in the stool on the other side twirling her hair in his fingers as she giggles at some indecent joke you’re sure. 

  She sees you approaching and pulls her attention away to blow you a kiss. She was your best friend, the person you could talk to about anything. It helped that she was a little older than you the same age your sister would’ve been. When you first arrived you thought maybe her and Joel had a past but he quickly reassured you that it had never and will never happen. He said she reminded him too much of his daughter.

   It helped having another woman around to navigate this new world. She picked up right where your sister left off and you formed a bond that would stand the rest of time. You wished Joel had someone like that for him but it was hard for him to let people in. 

  “Hey babe, Joel told me to have you come to his office when you got in.” She winks at you and bites her bottom lip and it doesn’t go unnoticed how Santi has all eyes on her. 

  You lean across the bar and plant a kiss on her cheek before nudging Santi with your shoulder. 

  “Encantada de verte luna.” He leans over and plants a kiss on your temple. 

  “Es bueno verte también Santiago.” 

  He dramatically clutches at fake pearls. “She speaks the mother tongue.”

  “Of course she does.” Charity chimes in. “I taught her everything I know…or as much as I can remember from childhood.” He knows all too well about things forgotten long ago.

  “Well Frankie is an amazing teacher so he can pick up where you left off.” You don’t miss the smirk into his glass as he takes a long sip of water. 

  Your cheeks grow hot and sweat beads at your neck at the mention of Frankie. You really needed to get a grip. You playfully swat at his arm before heading to the back office. 

  “Be careful with that one.” You call over your shoulder.

  “I’m harmless cariño.” You turn to face them before disappearing down the hallway. 

  “I wasn’t warning her Santiago.” 

  ***

  You lightly knock on the office door before entering to see Will seated standing near the desk hugging Joel. Joel didn’t hug many people so you knew this was special. Will turns to greet you with a smile on his face and you realize this is the first time you’ve seen him smile since he arrived. 

  His blue eyes resemble his brothers but his rugged features bring an edge to him that suits him so perfectly. He was handsome but even more so when he looked happy. 

  “Hi Will.”

  “Hi hon, I’m sorry about yesterday it just takes me a little to shake the edge off after we travel.” He pulls you into the tightest bear hug. You inhale his scent of freshly washed laundry and melt into the warm embrace of his large chest. There was something about these men that just made you feel like home. 

  “You don’t need to apologize to me, I’m glad you all are safe and home.” 

  “I like the sound of home.” He gives Joel one last pat on the shoulder as he makes his way out of the office. 

  Joel has a seat in the chair behind his desk, legs spread wide with a mischievous look in his eye. He beckons you over as you take a sideways seat in his lap. Mindlessly running your fingers through his hair as he hums in approval. 

  “How are you feeling?” 

  “Mmmm much better now that I know you’re safe.”  You lean in and kiss the permanent crease in his brow as he lets his eyes flutter closed. 

  His hand drifts under the hem of your shirt gripping your waist tight as he pulls you further into his chest. His lips ghost over your neck before slowly dragging his teeth along your pulse point. Your body shivers at his touch, he knew every spot that made you weak. Years of mapping out your body and taking you a part in various ways. 

  “Someone’s needy today, I thought you had enough this morning.” His other hand drifts behind your neck as he crashes his lips into yours. 

  “I always need you darlin’, it’ll never be enough.” His words are desperate, punctuated by each kiss as his hand drifts to your front, his large palm squeezing your breast drawing a high pitched whine from your throat. 

  You can feel the heavy weight of his bulge pressed against your thigh and you involuntarily grind your hips into him. He groans from deep within as he licks a stripe up your neck and bites gently on your earlobe. He has you so keyed up just from his touch, it’s all consuming and you could come just like this as he ruts his hips into you in desperation. 

  You don’t register him standing until your front is pressed against his desk as he forcibly bends you over. Your cheek is flush with the desk and your arms are splayed out in front of you. 

  “Joel…I didn’t lock the door.” You pant out as you hear the faint sound of his belt buckle. 

  He pulls your jeans and panties down in one motion as he lines himself with your entrance. He slowly drags his cock through your folds feeling how wet you are, your slick is coating your thighs as it drops down. 

  “You afraid someone might come in.” He pushes in at the last word, you inhale sharply as the stretch takes the breath from your lungs. 

  His hips are flush with yours as his hands tighten around your waist. He leans forward giving you a moment to breathe as he places a gentle kiss on your back. 

  “You might want to hold onto some thin’ Shine.” His words are low in your ear and you grip the front of the desk. His hips slam into yours as he sets a brutal pace. You stifle your moans into your arm as he punches something deep inside. 

  “Oh…fuck Joel.” You whimper softly as the sound of skin slapping and the desk creaking can be heard through the room. He grunts with every thrust as you feel every vein and ridge dragging through your walls bringing you closer to your climax. 

  “Why so quiet?” He brings his hand around your throat lightly squeezing as he lifts you flush with his chest. “Don’t you want Francisco to hear you?” You squeeze around him as a fresh wave of slick coats the base of his cock. 

  “You want him to see you takin me so well.” His words send you over the edge as you reach behind you gripping his hair, lightning flashes behind your eyes as you come with a silent o.  

  His pace falters and you can tell he’s reaching his end, his words always left you breathless but two can play that game. 

  “You want me to teach him how?” Your voice is barely above a whisper in his ear as his body tensed up, slamming his hand down on the desk groaning loudly, and shamelessly as he fills you up thrusting once and twice. His head drops to your shoulder as you both catch your breath. 

  “Shit.” He curses under his breath as he releases his grip on you. 

  “What is it?” You turn around to see him looking down at your jeans below you, small dark stains on the front pooled by your feet. 

  “Don’t worry, I brought extra clothes for my shift.” You move to step out of your jeans but he places a firm hand on your back and guides you back down to the desk. 

  “Where do you think you’re goin’?” He reaches into his drawer for a rag as he gently cleans you from behind. The gesture is always so intimate even in his demanding way. He places a soft kiss on your back before helping you stand again, turning you to face him. All the worry and stress gone from his posture as he adjusts his pants and belt buckle. 

  “I’m supposed to go to work after that?” You shuffle your way around the desk to rifle through your bag,shucking off your boots. You pull on your skirt and replace your sweaty shirt with your crop top. Giving a spin when you're done.

  “You look gorgeous as always….and yes Shine, you always go to work after that.” You do your best pouty face when there's a knock on the door. 

  “It’s Frankie, you asked to see me?” You quickly shove your clothes in your bag and nearly trip trying to get your boots back on. 

  “Come on in.” 

  He slowly opens the door as you try to look anywhere but his face, you’re awkwardly standing next to the desk as he moves to sit in the seat across from Joel. You don’t know why you’re being so weird, it’s not as if he knows what you two were just doing while talking about him. 

  “I’m gonna head out and get the bar set up.” You turn around and before you know it you’re face down on the floor, your traitorous untied boots no doubt the culprit. 

  Frankie’s up in a flash helping you to your feet. The close proximity of his hands on your waist and the concern in his eyes is enough to make you melt. You feel a heavy presence behind you as you find yourself once again between Joel and Frankie. They have to stop doing this. 

  “Are you okay?” You're dizzy and not from the fall as you slowly register Frankie speaking. 

  “Yes I’m fine…just very clumsy.” Joel turns you around tilting your chin up with his finger, moving your head side to side. 

  “As you can see…she’ll need your help walking home tonight.” He smirks at you and you bite your bottom lip to quell the rage inside at his comment. You know he was teasing but right now is not the time. But since he wants to keep playing games. 

  You kneel down slowly not missing the way Frankie clears his throat. You begin to lace your boots not breaking eye contact with Joel, yet your face is level with his ever growing problem. He bites down on his bottom lip clenching his fists at his side. 

  Frankie can feel his palms sweating, he doesn’t know if he should run or pull you up and bend you over the desk. He’s trying to look anywhere else but the way you’re looking up at Joel has him dancing on the edge of no return. 

  A knock at the door feels like an eternity in your compromising position. Your heart is hammering in your chest hoping someone doesn’t open it. 

  “Hey Shine, it’s getting busy out here.” Charity’s voice comes soft through the door.

  “Coming.” You call out and snatch your bag from the ground. You place a chaste kiss in Joel’s lips before quickly retreating from the office,not bothering to look at Frankie on your way out. 

  Joel’s not often left speechless but the red that’s creeped up Frankie’s neck is all but confirmation at what he wants. He steps away before he does something rash and sits in his chair. 

  “I have to meet with some people tonight so I’ll need you to take her home.” 

  “Of course…do you need anything else?” Yes

  “Just look after her while she works, make sure nobody’s giving her a hard time.” He adjusts in his seat trying to look him in the eyes and not where he wants to wander. 

  “No problem Mr. Miller.” 

  “Please call me Joel.”  Frankie hesitates before turning to leave the office. 

  “No problem Joel.”

  ****

  The bar is busy as you try to handle the high volume of drinks you’re making. Frankie leans against the wall at the end of the row with one leg on the sink essentially keeping anyone from walking behind. 

  It all sounded so romantic…protect the lady and walk her home but it was much more than that below the surface. You benefited heavily from being one of two of the busiest bars in the QZ, but if ration cards weren’t being exchanged none of it mattered. 

  You knew there were plenty of days where you got so busy you didn’t notice someone slip out without paying or maybe someone drank more than their rations provided. It was a luxury to drink for some and a necessity for others. 

  Yes Frankie had an important job but each man had a specific task. Frankie needed to protect you but also he needed to make sure everyone paid and if they didn’t they would have to answer to Santi. Will was tasked with rival gangs and elicit activities not taking place inside the bar. If they’ve already been told not to come back then they would need to answer to Benny at the door. 

  It was all carefully orchestrated by Joel. He’s spent years worrying about all of this and keeping you safe on top of that and now he has the reinforcement to truly run things the way he wants. 

  A short gruff man you know all too well whistles at you from the end of the bar signaling you over. “Hey Shine, I'm out of here.”

  “6 rations.” He licks his lips and slaps 4 cards on the bar top as he slides off his stool. 

  Frankie stands and pushes him against the hard wood before he can make a move for the door. 

  “You owe the lady two more unless you want me to take whatever you have left.” The man frantically looks to his side for support as Santi nods toward Benny placed at the door. 

  Will is seated in a booth scrubbing his jaw watching the scene unfold. 

  The man shakily reaches in his pocket procuring two more cards and bolting out the door. 

  The hush that had fallen over the room is replaced with the sweet melody of Charity over a string guitar. As if the slow motion spell was lifted, the bar is back to the clinking of glasses and the rousing laughter. 

  You glance over at Frankie who’s resumed his spot at the end of the bar, leg perched on the sink with a slight smile on his face. 

  The rest of the night goes without incident as the buzz of their presence has made itself known. You’re just finishing cleaning up while you and Charity have a nightcap. It sounded odd at a bar but Lavender tea was your perfect way to end the night. It also helped that it was easy to grow. 

  “I probably should’ve asked you for coffee…I’m planning on being up late.” She looks at Santi over her shoulder and you think he may have met his match. 

  “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.” She sets her mug down, almost spilling the contents. 

  “Oh I’m trouble?…What was going on in the office earlier?” Touché 

  “It was an important meeting.” You take a sip of your tea to hide your smile. 

  “Well I have a very important meeting tonight regarding my religion…he’s a priest or something.” 

  You chortle into the tea as she tries to contain her laughter. 

  “He’s a pope actually and I hope he saves you from your sins.” 

  “You say my name Luna(Moon)?” Santi slides up next to her and your heart warms at the pet name. 

  “Oh nothing I just heard you’re doing some charity work tonight.” She buries her face in her hands as his eyes go wide. 

  Frankie’s laughter at the end of the bar startles you. You had all but forgotten him as he took his job very seriously. Pope flips him off as his laughter grows louder and you could definitely get used to that sound. 

  Santi loops his arm around Charity pulling her off the stool. “Goodnight Luna, get home safe.” He winks at you as they head towards the hallway giggling like teenagers. 

  Benny and Will head over after locking the door and shutting off the sign. You make your way around the bar and give Will a hug, after he turns to Frankie whispering something just out of ear shot. 

  You feel your feet leave the ground and you’re acutely aware of the force that is Benny hoisting you in the air before gently placing you down. 

  “Does he always do this?” Frankie and Will nod simultaneously at you before Will waves you off to head upstairs. 

  You turn to face Ben and somehow he’s still full of as much energy as he started the night with. His pale blue eyes piercing through you as he bounces from toe to toe. 

  “I changed my mind about your shirt.” He looks at you inquisitively awaiting your response as you stand on your toes to whisper in his ear. 

  “It’s very intimidating.” He looks at Frankie trying to hide the glossiness in his eyes before he leans down and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight sweetheart.” 

  Frankie doesn’t know what you did or what you said but he hasn’t seen his friends that happy in a long time. 

  ****

  The walk home feels foreign. Neither of you break the silence, only the sound of the ground crunching beneath your feet and the city nightlife stirring occasionally causing you to jump. 

  You lived in a relatively nice sector, because of Joel curfew was a suggestion and not necessarily a requirement, but the sounds of the other regions echoed off the brick walls jolting you back to reality. 

  You’re not gonna get anywhere with Frankie at this rate so you decide to break the ice. 

  “So tell me about yourself.” He looks at you sideways trying to ignore the innocent smile on your face. 

  “Not much to tell.” Ok stubborn 

  “How old are you?” He lets out a frustrated sigh. 

  “Older than you.” He’s got his hands tucked in his front pockets, his whole posture is different from the previous night. 

  “Vous êtes tellement frustrant.”-you are so frustrating. His eyebrows raise at the foreign language. 

  “Say it in Spanish and maybe I’ll listen.” His lack of confidence in you makes this game even more appealing. 

  “Eres tan frustrante.” Your smirk at him only further taunts the situation. 

  “Has anyone ever told you, you’ve got a smart mouth.” All the time.

  If he wasn’t going to easily supply information you would just have to use other means of persuasion. You decide to start skipping, just fast enough that he can’t keep up at his normal pace. 

  He’s desperately trying to not get to know you. The less he knows about you and you about him the easier it will be to fight these feelings he’s having. You’re not making it very easy when he has a perfect view of your ass all night while you bartend or the way you’ve fit so perfectly into his friends lives. Now apparently you speak fucking French and Spanish. This was going to be a losing battle. 

He jogs ahead to catch up with you and he’s so not in the mood for this but you’re just as stubborn as him it seems.

  “Fine I’ll talk if you stop skipping.” He’s slightly embarrassed at how out of breath he is. 

  You stop skipping but make no move to speak, waiting for him to lead the conversation where he wants. He doesn’t even know where to begin but he doesn’t want to start running again so he has to think fast. 

  “Where did you learn those languages?” 

  “Charity taught me most of my Spanish, it’s not a lot but I enjoy learning. I learned French from a book Joel found a long time ago.” You’ve piqued his interest at your desire to learn despite this harsh new world you live in. 

  “I could teach you more if you’re interested.” You try to hide your smile and tamp down some of your giddiness at the prospect of him letting some walls down. 

  “I would love that…I could teach you French if you want.” He laughs for the first time all night as he loosens up a little more. 

  “I don’t know if I can learn new things…especially French. I’m sure I’ll butcher it.” 

  “It’s never too late to learn new things.” He looks over at you and he doesn’t remember getting so close. The sincerity in your eyes is too much and he clears his throat as he looks anywhere but your face. 

  “So how’d you meet Joel?” You let out a long sigh as you mindlessly kick a rock out of your path. 

  “It’s a long story…he helped me when I needed it most.” 

  “I’m sure there’s more to that story.” He was starting to enjoy talking to you but he can tell that’s a subject that may have the conversation ending before he’s ready too. 

  “There’s definitely more to it…maybe I’ll tell you one day.” 

  He feels you shiver slightly against his shoulder and without hesitation pulls you into him for warmth. He curses to himself at how perfectly you fit under his arm. 

  “You should’ve brought some pants for the walk, it’s cold.” I had pants.

  “Ya I wasn’t thinking, I will next time.” You might forget again just so you can feel the protective weight of his arm draped around you as you walk the rest of the way in silence. 

  He takes note of the much nicer townhouse as you climb the steps ahead of him. Thankfully your skirt was just long enough or he would’ve got a glimpse of something he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. 

  You dig into your bag for your keys, trying to shield him from the pants placed directly on top of everything. 

  “Do you want to come in for a drink? I hate that you have to walk me home and then just head back.” You open the door slightly, he gets a small peek into your open living room set up much like Joel’s office. 

  “I really shouldn’t…don’t worry about me, it's my job.” He nervously scrubs the back of his neck, he doesn’t miss the way you wince a little at the mention of being a job. 

  “Okay…bonne nuit Francisco.” You slowly close the door and lock it behind you.

  “Buenas noches mi Luna.”

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[acopenhagenarmy]

THE ACADEMY - CHAPTER 1

Pairing: BTS x reader but mostly hyung-line x reader  Side pairings: Jimin x Taehyung, Jimin x Ateez!Wooyoung, reader x Ateez!Seonghwa

Mafia!au - gang!au - assassins!au 

Word count: 5k ish

Warnings: Mentions of death, nudity and sex apart from that some strong language. And I think that’s it for now.. 

Summary: Growing up in one of the biggest and most feared mafias has it’s perks, but what happens when you and you’re friends are suddenly shipped off to the other end of the world? Will you stay together or will the world you live in tear you all apart? 

NOTE: THIS IS THE UPDATED VERSION OF MY HEART RUNS TO YOU

-> NEXT CHAPTER

Harder!” he yelled at you as you once again kicked the punching bag he so desperately tried to keep steady. The sweat was trailing down the sides of your face as tears, as you did your best to keep your breathing under control. It was hard, and he knew just how to work your body to the breaking point.

But then again if anyone could it was him, after all you’ve known each other your entire lives. And you’d been kicking his ass ever since the two of you shared your mother’s womb.

The hall where you and your brother spent every early morning was large. A boxing ring was located in the middle surrounded by different machines and equipment, there to make sure everyone was in the best form of their life. Because at some point all of you would need to run from death, or maybe even fight it. 

A door opened at the top of a flight of stairs and through it walked your brother’s best friend and right-hand man, Jeon Jungkook. Walked might be the wrong word though, if you looked closely it almost looked like he danced down the stairs. 

When he reached the bottom, he spread his long arms and yelled: “Oh, my sweet, sweet Parks! Where have you been all morning?” Both you and Jimin looked confused at each other as your workout came to a halt. 

Jimin slowly let go of the bag, as you once again stood up straight, both of you leaving the workout for a few moments as you tried to decipher just what made your friend this excited at 5:30 am.

You loosened your boxing gloves and threw them aside, revealing the tiger stripes that twisted around your left wrist and ended right below your elbow. In the meantime, Jimin had located a water bottle and threw it your way as you stepped forward towards Jungkook.

As you caught the bottle and opened it you smiled at the giant man before you and said: “Why are you yelling like a maniac Kook? And you better have a good reason to disturb our morning workout.”

You took a big gulp of water as Jimin walked towards the two of you. He shook his head at Jungkook, as he once again started to dance in front of you. 

“Boy, you are completely insane” Jimin spoke as he looked at the man that now resembled a bunny more than a human. He looked at you afterwards, and all you did was raise a brow at your twin, because to be honest what was he expecting. All Jungkook did was grin and send a sweet smile towards the two of you. One of those that made his nose scrunch.

“Well my dearest friends… I come with a message; bitches we got in!” Out of his back pocket he pulled a black paper where the word academy was etched into it in gold, and above the words was a cold circle.

You dropped the water, not minding it spilling all over the floor, and pulled the paper out of Jungkook’s hands as you flipped it and started to read. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Jimin’s excited face as he started to jump, scream and dance with his friend. You could feel your heart stop and your lungs failing as you read over the golden words.

Dear Mr. Park.

We are pleased to inform you that Y/N Park, Jimin Park, Jungkook Jeon and Hoseok ‘J-hope’ Jung all have been accepted into the academy. Their classes will begin in exactly three days from now at the Puck Building in New York City. Each of your trainees must bring two suitcases of personal belongings and only one weapon, so choose wisely.

See you soon

You were in complete and utter shock. The academy was the dream, only the best trainees and children of the most feared mobsters in the world got to go there. It was an honor and a privilege, it was the place where lifelong alliances were built, and enemies were created.

Both you and the boys had never really doubted that you would get in, after all you were one of the largest mafias in all of Asia. But now the day was finally here, the dream had come true.

You took the letter and gave it back to the two boys before you ran up the stairs to get out of the practice room. You needed to talk to Hoseok, and you needed to talk to your dad.

There was no doubt in your mind that Jungkook had stolen the letter from your father’s office. But then again if you had been the one to spot the black and gold envelope, there was no way in hell you would have waited until nightfall to get the news.

It had been a tradition in your family, that the leader would host a dinner to celebrate the young men and women who had been accepted into the school. But the four of you were the best assassins, spies and most skilled in combat your gang had seen in generations. So, there was no way in hell tradition was gonna hold down the criminals inside you all.

You ran down the hall from the gym as quickly as your feet could carry you until you stumbled through the door to Hoseok’s room. Inside you found him splayed out in bed, in the arms of this week’s bimbo as Jimin called them. But then again who wouldn’t love to lay beside the legendary assassin J-hope?

You didn’t care if he had another woman in bed, you didn’t care that the two of them were most likely naked. All you cared about was sharing the best news of both of your lives with your partner in crime. So you jumped down in bed between the two of them, waking both of them up by the sudden need of air in their lungs.

You heard a yell from the women beside you as she rolled out of the bed and landed with a loud bang on the floor. All Hoseok did was grunt annoyed at you, before he pulled you close to him, inhaling the smell of your hair in the process.

“Why are you waking me up at this hour, you know I work late?” He was known for being a grumpy ass in the morning, and today was no exception. “And why the hell do you come into my bed and disturb my sleep, smelling like this?” He pulls back to look you in the eyes, and his filled with disgust.

“Jesus Hobi, be nice! I was in the middle of practice.”

“Well if you were in the middle of your precious practice, why the fuck didn’t you finish it and let me sleep for two more hours?”

You didn’t even know how to begin, so you just looked at him with the biggest smile, as you bit your bottom lip trying to contain the laughter that threatened to spill out into the room.

It was a rare sight, you acting giddy, you losing your words. But Hoseok knew better than to push you for information, that usually just ended with you beating his ass and him being blue and yellow for the rest of the week. So instead he waited, as he lost himself in your eyes. 

On the floor beside the bed you could hear the girl slowly coming to her senses, as she pulled herself up, looking down at the woman who had pushed her out of bed before six in the morning. You knew she wouldn’t be thrilled about it, but the fact that she even got to sleep in Hoseok’s bed was impressive, he usually kicked them out after the deed was done.

“Excuse me, but what the hell do you think you’re doing?” She had a high-pitched voice, instantly annoying you. She tried her best to hide her naked form behind the slight sheer cover she held up to cover her.  

“Dana shut up, will you?” He didn't even take the time to look at the woman, you were all he saw as he tried to figure out what news could be important enough to have you acting like this. 

You slowly looked up at the woman who towered over the two of you, and all you saw was the pout she elegantly had displayed on her face to try and win just a little sympathy from the man beside you. When that didn’t work, she tried yet another method.

“Baby if you kick her out then maybe we can go again?” you rolled your eyes, a little afraid they might get stuck back there if she kept going. But he did nothing, said nothing, he just looked at you and, in the end, she gave up, gathered her things and left the two of you alone in the room.

After an intense staring contest, one that once again ended the instant the thought of kissing you crossed his mind. He got out of bed to get dressed instead. He sat up in the bed as you rolled over to look up into the ceiling. You could hear the slow and lazy footsteps he took towards the two double doors that lead to his walk-in closet. A yawn escaped him as he stretched his arms above his head, to get the blood flowing in his tired and worn out body.

“So, what news is so important that I couldn’t wait?” You could hear him go through the drawers as he spoke.

Your head was filled with both pride and joy, but the words wouldn’t get out. Instead you giggled like a crazy person.

“What is it? Why are you laughing?” The t-shirt he pulled over his head was muffling the sound of his voice, which meant it was safe for you to face him once again. You sat up and turned towards the double doors as you crossed your legs in the soft bed.

“We got in Hobi…” It was almost a whisper and you continued: “We leave in three days, can you believe it? The day has finally come!” You clapped your hands as you watched him walk towards you.

“You’re kidding? Who got in? All of us?” You nodded your head and intertwined your hands with each other, squeezing with all the strength in your body. Because if this was a dream you needed to wake up now.

He sprinted towards you and tackled you back into bed as he screamed at the top of his lungs. Your arms held him close in a hug as you both laughed. It was emotional to be the one to tell him the news. You knew that he would get scolded by the rest of the boys who lived in his hall later on for waking them with his screams, but he didn’t seem to care. The happiness and pride of this achievement made the screams called for, and as soon as they knew they’d agree. 

The two of you had talked about this day since you were four and his father had brought him into the manor for the first time. Hoseok’s father was your dad’s right-hand man, and because of this you grew up together and trained together. You had shared everything together, hell he even lived in your house.

“Oh my god, this is insane! It’s completely insane! But wait… How the hell do you know?” Hoseok had a puzzled expression as he looked into your eyes.

“Well… Jungkook might’ve been snooping around in dad’s office, and there he might’ve found the acceptance letter”

You knew how much he hated to go against your father. Dae-Hyun or Papa Park as you and Jimin sometimes called him, had opened his house to both Hoseok and his family. An act Hoseok saw as a privilege and an honor. And unlike you and Jimin, it was kind of hard to be a teenager and a rebel against the man who was not only your boss, but one of the most powerful mafia leaders in this world.

“One day that boy is gonna end up being killed for all the stunts he pulls” He shook his head at your younger friend, but the smile refused to leave his lips.

“I know… But don’t worry I’m going to find pops as soon as I’m done with you and fill him in on the situation. After all he might want to do the dinner anyways” You shrugged your shoulders a little.

“Look at you being the responsible leader Y/N!” He hit your shoulder playfully as you laughed at his statement.

“Well I might as well start to take my role seriously now. No need to wait, you know?” You bit your bottom lip as you started to twirl the golden ring that was displayed on one of your fingers.

Hoseok stood up from the bed and looked down on you with loving eyes. You were the woman he could never have, the person he’d always protect and follow blindly into any battle.

“So tell me… What do I need to pack?”

After a long discussion with Hobi about just which outfits he should pack, and an even longer one with what sniper rifle he should bring to the States, you were off to see your dad.

You skipped down the corridors of the giant manor, saying hi to everyone you met on your way, until you’d finally reached your fathers office. He had an open-door policy for both you and the boys so instead of knocking you busted through the door.

He was sitting behind the giant mahogany desk, reading the reports from both spies and distributors that had been piling up in the dark hours of the night. He looked powerful in this setting. High ceilings, big windows, expensive suit and of course with an expensive bottle of whiskey nearby.

He looked up from his papers for a brief moment, only to discover you were already walking towards him. He slowly laid down his pen, as he sent you a gentle smile. In front of the desk were two leather chairs who faced him, and as usual you placed yourself in the left one.

“Hello sweet daughter, what can I do for you today?” He spoke like the man in power he was, his voice was deep and intimidating, even when he wasn’t trying to be. But then again it was a given when you were in his position.

You didn’t respond and just moved around nervously in the chair as you fiddled with the golden ring that rested on your pinkie on your left hand. Just like your tattoo it displayed your rank in the family business, as you liked to call it.

“I know what Jungkook did Y/N, there’s no need to beat around the bush” You quickly looked up from the ring, your face displaying the surprise you felt, and your heart started to beat faster as he continued his speech: “I have security and cameras everywhere in this house, you really think anything goes missing without my permission?”

He now had a smirk on his lips, and you could see the spark in his eyes. Your father was a cruel man to those who deserved it, and a stern leader to almost everyone. Except to a chosen few. To you he was kind, playful at times, and almost always with a smile on his face and that incredible kind spark in his eyes. Unless you talked business of course.

You laughed before you answered him.

“I thought you might’ve figured it out by now. I hoped you hadn’t, because it would’ve been nice to be the one to surprise you for once”

He put away his reading glasses and stood up. Slowly walking to the other side of his desk as he sat down on the edge, both hands resting beside him.

“Well… One day you might be able to, but not quite yet Blade…” His smile was as kind as always as he said your nickname. “… But judging from your smile I guess the academy had great news?”

You didn’t know it was possible to feel prouder or happier than you already were, but the feeling that slowly blossomed in your chest was nothing you’d ever felt before. You could feel the tears in your eyes as you smiled at the man you admired most in this world.

“We all got in, all four of us” Your voice cracked a little, but you did not care for a single second. The two of you had talked about this day since you’d held your first katana. And to share the good news with the man that had made you the woman you were today, meant everything to you.

He stood up from his spot and walked towards you, arms stretched open to give you the bear-hug he knew you needed. And you walked right into his arms and let the tears roam free.

“I’m so proud of you Blade, of all of you.” He whispered into your hair before he placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you away from his chest, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. He placed a kiss on your forehead as you laughed a little. “But I never doubted any of you, I trained you to be the best, not ordinary, so of course they want you all” 

You rarely showed people your emotions. It wasn’t that it was a sign of weakness, but being a girl high placed in the mafia, people would use anything to gain the upper hand in this game you called life. It was like every other corporation, typically a patriarchy. A typical tradition because men had this idea that women couldn’t be ruthless, that they couldn’t handle the power, that they couldn’t handle the bloodshed. Luckily for you, your family didn’t share that view, and neither did the rest of the crew under your father. 

You cleared your throat as he finally let go of you, looking into your happy eyes as his own filled with pride.

“I’m sorry if we ruined the dinner though”

He laughed at that statement and turned around to once again find his rightful place behind his giant desk. “Now call those boys in here I need to have a chat with you all before it all goes down tonight, because we all know you’ll be too hungover tomorrow to come if I call a meeting then”

You raised an eyebrow, your way of saying: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

“Don’t give me that look Y/N, we’ve been down that road before. That being said, you need to shower first”

You shrugged, he wasn’t wrong.

After an amazing breakfast you went back to your room, quickly ridding yourself of your workout clothes to hop into a steaming hot shower. You stood there for a few minutes and wondered just how your life would look in a few weeks’ time.

Would you be able to create new alliances, or would it end up being impossible because you’re a woman? It was very rare that women were in powerful positions in the mafia, and even rarer that they were the first in line for the throne. And the more you thought about it the more anxious you got. It might not be a problem at home, where your people knew just how you were raised to rule, but you needed to prepare yourself for every reaction in the book. 

You turned on the cold water to get the negative thoughts out of your system, your way of clearing your head, at least for the time being. Once again it worked like a charm. After a good cleanse of both hair, body and mind, you left to start your morning routine.

Because this was a special day, you knew you needed a little extra than just the regular black dior outfit. You did your makeup and dressed in an elegant black suit. 

The black flared pants hugged your body in all the right places and displayed your curves just how you liked it. The blazer that matched gave you no waist and therefore you styled it with a belt with gold hardware to match the jewelry you wore. Just to give it a little something extra. Your hair was slicked back and your face open for the world to see the beauty of your jawline and cheekbones.

Stilettos were something you loved dearly, and almost always wore when you didn’t workout. You had mastered running in everything from 1-15cm, something all the men found very impressive. The red bottom Louboutins had therefore been a part of your outfits for a few years now. 

You looked into the mirror, pleased with the woman who looked back at you. You looked like you were in charge and knew what was going on around you, you looked like you belonged in this world that was mostly dominated by men. You looked lethal and beautiful all in one. 

You twisted your ring once as you took a deep breath. Afterwards you rolled up your sleeves to display your tattoo. 

Two knocks on your door pulled you out of your daydreaming. Jimin and the boys were here, and as you opened you almost had to take a step back before their jaws hit the floor before you.

The three men, your three so-called besties, looked you up and down, but none of them spoke. Nervous about their reaction you spun the ring around your fingers as you looked at them with a shy smile.

“What’s wrong? Do I have something in my face?” You laughed a little as you smiled wide at the three men who stood before you.

“N-no, no, no, no! Not at all you just… You look hot!” Jungkook said as he gave you a wink and licked his lip like a man starved.

“Duuuude! That’s my sister stop it!” Jimin hit his chest as he whisper yelled at him.

“I know that! But look at her!” He gestured towards you with both hands.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and shot one hip to the side, as you poked your cheek from the inside using your tongue, the very best indicator for when someone pissed you off.

Hoseok rolled his eyes and kissed your cheek. “You look beautiful and deadly” and afterwards pushed the boys out of the way and down the hall to make room for you. 

“Stop drooling and start walking before your future boss kicks your ass in a hallway. Besides we’re already late” He pointed towards the door at the end of it that led to your dad’s office, your arm snaked around his.

Hoseok always loved to have you like this, on his arm. To those who didn’t know you, you could look like a couple, and sometimes he liked to daydream of how things could be, if he was just a man and you were just a woman. Maybe then he could love you boldly, openly, publicly. 

As the two younger boys stumbled towards the door, he looked at you. A small but genuine smile on his lips as his eyes sparkled.

Jungkook and Jimin had bolted right through your fathers office doors, not a care in the world or a thought on their minds. Most likely startling him in the process. Both you and Jimin sat down in your chairs as Hoseok rested against the back of yours and Jungkook stood by the windows, looking out into the courtyard.

“I’m glad you all made it on time, this way we won’t be late for dinner” He said as he opened the carafe with gin and poured you a glass over ice. You had never liked whiskey the same way the boys had, and therefore he had made sure that there was something you enjoyed in his office. 

You thanked him as you grabbed the glass from his hands, and he continued to pour the remaining men in the room a glass of the golden liquid. And then he began his speech.

“First of all, I wanna say how proud I am of each and every one of you, you deserve this… More than any other. So, cheers to you.” He raised his glass, and you all followed his example as he continued.

“In two days’ time you’ll arrive in New York to attend the academy, and the next year will be both physically and mentally draining. When you step into those grand halls only three rules apply.” You all looked at each other with a smirk, rules never applied to you so why should it now? The response you got from him was there for a stern look, he meant business.

He continued: “and they are so basic even you four should be able to follow them. Rule number one, you are only allowed to bring one weapon. Rule number two, no killing, there will be plenty of time for that in the years to come. You are allowed to fight though, but that’s it! Rule number three, you are not allowed to leave.”

You could see Jungkook’s dramatic eye roll from where you were seated. “So they are just gonna lock us up?”

You sighed.

“You are allowed to leave the complex Jungkook, don’t be stupid” The boys laughed, and you did your best to hold back a chuckle. “You are just not allowed to leave New York unless you are given an assignment outside the city”

All that left his mouth was an almost silent grunt, as he turned around to join you all in the small circle in the middle of the room.

“So what now? Is it time for the party?” Hoseok said with hopeful eyes.

“Not quite yet, first it’s time for the gifts” You all looked confused at each other, no one had ever said anything about getting gifts at this thing.

“Dad, what? I mean thanks I guess, but really you shouldn’t have…” Jimin started the sentence but was quickly interrupted.

“I know I shouldn’t have. But you are my children, all of you” Jungkook moved his weight from one foot to the other as he stared down into the ground, blush silently creeping over his face.

He walked away from all of you, pulling a book from the massive bookcase in the room that opened up to the secret room that was your dads private and secret armory. He disappeared into the darkness and was back a few seconds later with a massive duffle back.

You all moved closer to peek into the bag, trying to see exactly what he was planning to surprise you with. The first thing he pulled out was a sniper rifle, or to be precise a M24. It was midnight black with golden tiger stripes clinging to the barrel. You turned your head as you looked at Hoseok, he loved that gun, and his eyes were sparkling as he slowly extended his hands out towards it.

“This is yours J-hope, you have always made me proud so don’t make me regret that I’ve officially given you your stripes now” Your father winked at him as he handed him the rifle. Hoseok was still in awe as he traced the golden stripes with his fingers. A small thank you escaped his mouth, as he walked away from the table, still looking at the rifle as a love crazed thirteen-year-old.

“Jungkook” The boy beside your father suddenly stood a little taller.

“I know you don’t use guns and that you prefer to fight with your hands. But there’s no way in hell I’m sending you to a school full of killers and liars without a weapon.” He pulled a knife out of the bag, golden handle and once again the stripes were to be found on this one as well. He took the handle and expected it in silence.

“For you son I have two things, and don’t worry, I’ve already talked to the school and because they are a set you are allowed to bring it with you”

Jimin smirked and his eyes narrowed as he looked at your father.

“You didn’t?!”

“Oh, but I did”

He pulled out a ‘Beretta 92FS’ with a matching silencer, again painted black in golden tiger stripes. One weapon but two parts so technically he wouldn’t break any of the rules the academy had set. Clearly there had to be a point with all these matching weapons. Your brother hugged your father tightly, making your heart flutter at the sweet moment they now shared before you would be gone for who knows how long.

“I’m so proud of you my son, I hope you know that” his hand rested on Jimin’s cheek, as he looked deep into his eyes.

“I know pops”

“Good… and last but not least!”

Instead of pulling your weapon from the bag, like he did with the others, he went back into the armory.  When he returned, he had a katana with him, but this wasn’t just any katana. It was tradition in the East-Asian mafias that the heir to the throne had one, it was a display of power, just as your ring and tattoo. It showed people you were the one in charge, and that you were the one they needed to fear, to respect. 

The holster was black, everything about this sword was as dark as your soul. Except for a small pendant that hung from the end of it. A solid gold tiger. You pulled it from its holster revealing the sharp blade. You swung it around just to get a feel of it, and it was perfectly balanced for your body.

“I have given you all weapons that link you to each other, weapons that show everyone you’ll meet where you belong. I know each and every one of you will make me proud in your own way, and I’m excited to see what this journey will bring for every one of you. Make more allies than enemies, be only cruel to those who deserve your wrath. Most of those you’ll meet are beneath you so don’t waste your time… But for now, go, you deserve this party, you deserve one last night of bad decisions before you go into the world as my representation”

You all nodded, straightening your backs, looking forward as if you were ready to fight the world in this moment. You all left your father behind in the office, and when the door was finally closed behind you a squeal of happiness and laughter erupted in the halls. Making the old man smile behind the once again closed doors.

[moods1805]

Diary of an Intermittent Runner - Weeks 13, 14, 15 and 16

Another much delayed update!!!!!! Things are a bit manic here at the moment - it's the start of the exam silly season, which means work has gone mad, and we are having building work done at home. Have managed to keep up with the Parkruns and do a fair bit of running.

One of the totally bizarre things that I ended up doing when James was having his treatment was to Tweet famous people that James (and I) liked. I can remember first doing it in the middle of the night - there may have been drink involved! To my amazement, and eternal gratitude, a number of people replied and sent wonderful messages (and we are still in contact with quite a few of these brilliant people). Something that started as a bit of a distraction became, for me, one of the most supportive things throughout 2019. One message in particular has stayed with me. I'm not going to name the people who got in touch. This one message was from someone who knew what we were going through. The part of the message that meant (and still means) so much to me was asking how Bec and I were and to make sure that we looked after ourselves. This hadn't even crossed our mind. We were totally focused on James' treatment, but in hindsight we should looked after ourselves a bit more!!!!

This challenge that I am doing is one that I am pretty much making up as I go along! The 50 Parkruns in the year was the starting point (with trying to do those nearest to the Teenage Cancer Trust units getting there - slowly). One thing I would really like to come out of this is to highlight the work of all the cancer charities that I am running for - and as many others that are working hard for patients, families and friends. Support is there and no-one will go through this horrible time alone.

Hopefully, the next update will arrive a little sooner than this one!!!!

The Parkruns that I have completed since the last update are:

Shrewsbury Parkrun - a lovely run along the river Severn (with a bit of hill at the start!!!)

Brueton Park Parkrun - a really good two-lap run in Brueton Park in Solihull (with a hill!!!!!!!)

Sheffield Castle Parkrun - a three-lap run (hills on each lap!!) near to the TCT unit at the Royal Hallamshire Hospital in Sheffield.

Dudley Parkrun - lots going on at this one!!! Running track, canal towpath, trail, big hill, disused railway. Brilliant!!!!!!

The soundtrack for the last few weeks has been:

Sparks - In Outer Space

Public Service Broadcasting - The Race for Space

Manic Street Preachers - The Ultra Vivid Lament

Manic Street Preachers - Resistance is Futile

Talk Talk - The Colour of Spring

Manic Street Preachers - Futureology

Ultravox - Vienna

Sparks - Pulling Rabbits Out of a Hat

Ultravox - Rage in Eden

Heaven 17 - The Luxury Gap (had to listen to this in Sheffield - and had a like from Martyn Ware!!!)

Sparks - Music to Dance To

Sparks - Interior Design

David Bowie - No Trendy Réchuffé

Sparks - Gratuitous Sax & Senseless Violins

Back to Worcester Pitchcroft for the next couple of weeks (to see the 5K Your Way people next week and just need to do a very local one the week after).

Take care

Pete

[shadowofahope]

Answers

Warnings: Swearing, death, mentions of kidnapping, torture, stalking, obsessions, reincarnation, ANGST ANGST ANSGT.

Pairing: StrayKids!idolOT8 X Ghost!reader

Premise: Being alone and ignored was one thing, you were used to that by now. But having each member of an idol group barrelling into your safe little sanctuary was not something you could have imagined. Now being torn away from your tiny cozy room all you wanted to do was get back to it. Even it meant losing home.

Authors notes: 9.2K words. I'm going to start including a word count in each drabble, as I have realized some of these reach over 5k. It'll let people know if they're opening up a mini novel or a short piece.

masterlist

~🌒

The comfort of the dark room, the silence you are so accustomed to now. No longer cold and dim, but a neutral sanctuary. 

Or so you thought….

The doors unwarningly open, and a scream echoes in your enclosed space. Your eyes fly open, and are hit with a harsh stream of light. Making your brain stumble at the impact. 

Squinting you fumble out of the space, cumbersomely forcing yourself to your feet. Your ears finally begin to work again as you can hear faint muffled speech smacking you in the head.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be hiding in there!” 

“I was napping, not hiding.” You correct, rubbing your eyes, hoping the spinning would stop soon. Your eyes slowly begin to focus. When was the last time the light was on?

“Why would you nap in a closet?” 

“It’s comfier than you’d thin-” Wait. Did you hear that right? The voice chuckles. Your eyes swim back to vision as you face your intruder. 

“You’re Hyunjin. From StrayKids!” Really? In this whole situation that’s all you got? You mentally slap yourself. You had bigger things to worry about.

“Yeah! Are you a fan?” He replies brightly.

“Uh…” You take in his form from his iconic shoes to his blonde hair. “Was…?” 

Looking at his face, more important his eyes. Yep, he’s definitely looking at you. 

“Was? Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” His smile falters, but he recovers quickly. 

“What are you doing here?” His outfit and makeup tells you he is filming something. But if he’s here then the others must be and a whole production team, which to you sounds like a right nightmare. Well it would be if you could have one.

“We’re filming for our new music video. What are you doing here?”

“Napping.” 

“You came all this way, to this run down old building… to nap?” He looks at you skeptically, but you’re too lost in examining the room. An old classroom, the posters still on the wall hold some faint colour to them. Your favourite drawing hanging up was blue not black. Huh, who would have thought. 

“Uh huh”

If anyone had asked you this morning if you would be standing here having a conversation with Hyunjin of Straykids, you would have laughed at them. Wait… you clearly missed something important. 

Before you could open your mouth to assure yourself, the door of the classroom bursts open and three more members of skz file in.

“Hyunjin, we've been looking everywhere for you!” Changbin yells at him.

“We thought we heard a faint scream, we assumed it was you.” Jisung laughs.

“Oh so funny” He rolls his eyes.

“Who’s this?” Seungmin asks, eyes staring directly at you. Oh great, another one.

“I’m not sure I just met her. She was napping in the closet.” Hyunjin explains, gesturing at you. 

“Well, Hi I’m Ji-” Jisung starts as the three members walk over to you.

“I know who you are.” You are struggling to keep your face blank from your rising panic.

“Apparently she used to be a fan” Hyunjin chuckles awkwardly. The atmosphere in the room becomes a shade dimmer. 

“Can we ask what your name is?” Seungmin tries to divert the tension. 

You shake your head. “You guys should go now. You have filming to do right?”

They all stare at you, something hanging in the air that they can tell something isn’t quite right. 

The silence is broken by Changbins cough, “She’s right, we need to head back.” He nudges the others to remove their cemented feet. All giving you a quick goodbye before leaving the room, all but Hyunjin.

“Will you be alright?” 

“I’m fine.” You give him a faint smile before he’s nodding and heading out the door. You wait until you’re sure you can no longer hear their footsteps, before completely freaking out.

“HOLY SHIT!” You yell as you run around the tables. “How did they see me? How can they hear me?! HOW CAN I UNDERSTAND THEM?” 

You collapse onto the dirty laminate floor. You close your eyes, now letting the black unknown take you. You called it napping, really you weren’t sure what it was.

“What the hell is going on?” 

No one answers you, no one ever answers you. No one knows you're here. It’s been over a year since the incident and you woke up in this building. Well this room to be exact, you’ve never been able to leave and lord knows you've tried. Eventually you gave up and accepted your confines as home, you don’t know how you ended up here. The markings on the walls indicated Korean, that much you could tell based on all the k-dramas you used to watch, but you had never been to Korea, so how did you end up in another country? 

Too many questions, all of which you’d had given up finding answers to. But now meeting these 4 members, a whole new wave of questions came flooding in. 

And once again you were left alone. With no answers. 

~🌒🌓

You take your time opening your eyes, unsure of how much time you had been ‘napping’ but you let yourself regain at its own pace. Eventually your eyes begin to open, ready for the grimy ceiling tiles and rusty, broken looking light fixture. However, you are jolted awake when you realize that's not the ceiling above you. This ceiling for 1 is clean, 2 white and 3 all the bulbs are working. You jolt yourself up right, hastily looking around the room. There’s no way you could be anywhere but that old room, so how are you seeing someone's living room, you must be imagining it. 

You hear shoes scuffling towards a hallway to what looks to be a front door you shoot to your feet, backing up to the opposite end of the room. There’s no way anyone could see you, but these turn of events were enough to put you on edge. 

Your thoughts ricoshay around you, deafening you to the figures entering through the door. One of them stops mid sentence as he comes face to face with you as he enters the living room.

“Who are you?” Chan barks.

Can he see you too? You struggle to answer. Confusion evident on your face. 

“How did you get in here?” He stands his ground, his voice rising in what would be a dominant, intimidating way, but you’re too concerned that once again you have been seen to feel threatened. 

The other 3 figures rush in behind him, upon noticing you their expressions change from fear to worry.

“You’re the girl from the mv shoot we met.” Jisung voices out. 

“This-” You point around the room. “Is your dorm?”

“I’ll ask again. How did you get in here?” Chan asks again. Voice less threatening.

You take a step back, going over everything that happened that day to now. This can’t be real. Scanning each member quickly, you notice something. You point at Changbins now blonde hair and Hyunjins now dark hair. 

“How long ago was that? The video shoot?” Your voice comes out shaky, you’re trying to swallow back the rising emotions bubbling in you. 

“A couple weeks ago?” Changbin offers. 

That’s it, a couple weeks? How have you been out that long? I mean it’s not like you could tell time with a broken clock, but weeks. You start pacing back and forth muttering to yourself. “How is this happening? This can’t happen. It’s impossible- but then again, I thought I was impossible. So maybe not impossible? But that doesn’t make any sense.”

You don’t hear the front door opening and the other four members enter until you hear Seungmin exclaim.

“Hey, why is the shoot girl here?”

You halt in your steps, turning to them.

“Shoot girl?” Felix asks.

“The girl we said we ran into at the mv shooting.” Seungmin shrugs. 

“OK, so you guys felt the need to invite her over?” Minho huffs next to him.

“No offense, but that doesn’t sound like the smartest thing to do Hyungs” I.N. gestures behind them. 

“We didn’t invite her, she was here when we came in.“ Hyunjin defends dramatically. 

You can feel your voice clawing it’s way out, but before you can think the panic has taken over.

“Hold on. WAIT. You can see me?”

“Is that a joke?” Chan asks. Your cold hands rub against the skin on your face. This is really a nightmare. 

“You can all see me. You can all hear me. You can all understand me.” You state, the shock finally breaking your blank shell. You see them all nod, distrusting eyes watch you as your feet restart their pacing. 

“This can’t be happening.” This time you're not mumbling. “ I can’t be here. How is this happening? Oh god- I need to get back to my room.”

“You mean that old classroom? That’s your room?” Jisung can’t help but ask, but he’s stopped short of completely asking you things when Minho nudges him in the ribs with his elbow. 

The pacing stops as you stare at them. “You don’t understand. I haven't been able to leave that room in over a year.”

“What? Has someone been keeping you there?” Jisungs exclaims, followed by another nudge to his ribs.

You can’t help but laugh dryly, if only it was that easy. “I stopped asking those questions a long time ago. Seriously though, none of you should be able to see me.”

“Why because you have your invisibility cloak on?” Minho sneers at you.

You stare blankly at him. Walk over to the table, pulling your hand back you aim to push all the items off the table. Your hand collides with nothing, phasing through the objects. You smirk at his shocked face, arms crossing over your chest in triumph. 

“No, because I’m a ghost.” Now the feelings of being annoyed started to build. “And like I said, I’ve been stuck in that room for a very long time with no idea how to leave. And no one has been able to see me until you showed up. And then I wake up here, in your space weeks later. AND to top it all off, I don’t speak Korean so how the hell are we having this conversation?”

~🌒🌓🌔

“So you’re dead?”

“If he asks me that one more time I’m going poltergeist on this place” You threaten, turning to the eldest two. 

“What happened to you?” IN calls your attention. The room becomes dead still. The continuous shuffling and side comments coming to an abrupt stop. Unclear certainty fields the room, from them upon realizing they may have crossed a line in their maknae asking so bluntly. And from you… well for very different reasons. 

“Wrong place, wrong time?” You will your voice to come out steady and nonchalantly. However, your body betrays you. Leg bouncing in your seat on the couch, hands showing a slow tremor.   “Look, I’m not really sure. I can’t remember. All I know is one minute I was walking along this backroad to my place from being with friends. I had my headphones in, I was listening to a random playlist when………..-wait-”

A subtle drifting melody passes by your ears. Like it was traveling on a motionless breeze. The sound ebbing in and out of your being. 

“I think one of your songs was playing” Wide eyes jump to each member as the beat lingers. “and then I woke up in that room. That’s it. Nothing in between” 

“Maybe someone was meant to find you in that room? Like we were? It’s easy enough to come and go in that building.” Hyunjin hums, trying to put the broken pieces of a puzzle together.

“That’s the weird thing, others have filmed there before and no ones ever seen me.” You shake your head at him. “Actually no ones ever been able to come into the room before. I can see the reflection through the hallway windows, there’s always been a padlock and chain on it. How did you get in?” 

“There wasn’t anything like that, the door was partially open when I Found it.” 

Too many coincidences… that's what this is….if you could feel your skin, you’d say it was beginning to itch. 

“Strange. Why did you go in that room? Were you randomly searching all the rooms?” Minho’s careful eyes watch the younger one carefully. 

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, that was the only room I went into. I just felt like there was something… that I had to see…”

“Wait. So the last thing you heard was one of our songs before nothing and you just happened upon a room that was mysteriously calling you?” Jisung questions wide-eyed. His large eyes bore into you.

“That sounds like we were meant to find you, somehow this was meant to be.” Chan nods to himself. His voice is warm and soothing, but there’s something chilled about his sentence. 

Your vision ripples momentarily, whatever else they were saying you could no longer hear. Only a deep raspy faltering voice.

‘It was love at first sight. We are meant to be.’

And then they were back. All 8 pairs of eyes staring at you, clearly someone had asked you a question.

“Sorry, what was that?” 

“Are you ok?” Chan's thoughtful gaze makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. 

“Uh yea yea fine. Everything is just a lot.” You try to give them a reassuring smile. They must have seen the look of loss in your eyes, hoping to move on from the subject. 

“I know y/n, but we promise we’ll figure it out together.” Followed by several agreeances, and encouraging smiles.  

~🌒🌓🌔🌕

“I already regret agreeing to help you.” Seungmin’s voice mumbles tiredly from the couch.

You can’t stop the evil giggle from bubbling out of your mouth. Your day spent getting used to your new surroundings, figuring out which door went where, whose room was who’s, who was the easiest to poke fun at when you were bored.

“You? At least you can leave to your own dorm rooms. She’s here all the time.” Changbin huffs coming out of his room.

“Guys be nice to noona! You’re acting like she’s a disobedient pet or something.” Jisung scolds from the dining table. 

“She’s like an angry chihuahua that pees on everything just because she knows it’ll annoy us.” Seungmin retorts annoyedly, eyes still fixed on the tv. 

“Exactly!” Changbin agrees a little too enthusiastically for your liking. Plopping down next to Seungmin.

“Did you just call me a chihuahua?” You shoot them a look of disgust. “Ew.”

“If you stopped acting like one we’d stop calling you one behind your back.” Minho eventually joins the conversation from the other end of the dining table to Jisung. His face was blank as always.

“Linoring, not you too!” Jisung whines dramatically, falling back in his chair, face stricken with dismay and disappointment to the dancer.

“Sorry jagi” Minho mumbles looking away from the huffy chipmunk, slight pink dusting his cheeks as he accidentally makes eye contact with you. Purposefully, at least on your end, catching the smirk on your face as you wiggle your eyebrows at him knowingly. 

“Thank you sungie! Besides, It’s not my fault you guys are boring.” You groan in frustration. “When did Lixie and Innie say they would be over?”

“IN said he was finishing his game while waiting for lix to finish his baking and then they’d be over.” Seungmin's voice makes you feel even more disheartened. 

“If I could die again it’d be from boredom. I want Lixie.” You cry out.

You hear Changbin mumble something under his breath about you being dramatic, in retaliation you whip around to give him another dramatic show, but are hit with the room beginning to spin. As if the world is tilted on its axis you stumble slightly, eyes flying shut and a ringing in your eyes. Regaining your balance a pained groan escapes you.

—-

“Noona? Noona!” Felix’s deep voice bounces in your still pounding mind. 

“Lixie?” Your staggering mind manages. 

“How did you get here?” You hear I.N’s surprise. Begrudgingly you pry your eyes open, blinking the world back to alignment.

“I dunno.. I was complaining about seeing you guys and then I felt like I was hit with mega vertigo and… here I am.” 

And here you were. Standing in an almost identical dorm room kitchen to the first one, individuals items being the only difference you can see.

“Are you ok?”

“That’s so cool!” 

Both chime at once. You can’t help but laugh at them.

“Yes I’m ok, it was just really abrupt. I was not ready for it.” You smile softly at Lix, before turning to give I.N a mischievous smirk. “...do you think I’d be able to do it again?”

“Please tell me you’re going to try it right now.” I.N comes over to you excitedly, his game completely forgotten. “Wait! I have an idea!”

You watch as he races back to the computer to grab his phone. You and Felix share a confused look. 

“I’ll text everyone in the group to see if they’re all decent. I won't say why and then you pick a member and try to poof to them.” He begins typing away on his phone.

“Oh this I’m ready for. And don't say poof. It's weird.” The mischievous look on the maknaes face only amps up your own. The youngest was always ready to cause a ruckus with you.

He rolls his eyes at you, but doesnt respond.

“Ok everyones good. Chans in his studio, the others are either in the other dorm, the gym or wandering around the city.” IN eagerly informs you both.  

“Did you at least give them a warning? If this does work?” Felix, trying as always to be the voice of reason for you two. Always worrying about what you two would end up doing to the others. Felix and his soft heart. 

“Yeah’” IN waves off. “Give it a try y/n”

Focusing on one member you begin to try to will yourself to him. Your eyes close, the world tilts and the ringing hits. 

“See you later!” You chime, an evil smile plastered on your face, and then poof.

----

“Do you think it worked?” Felix paces back and forth in worry. They hadn’t heard anything from anyone for over 5 minutes, he was beginning to worry you got lost somewhere.

“Well she’s not here anymore, so I’d assume so.” IN comments, composure set in his shoulders as he watches the older continue in his steps.

The group from your previous location burst into the dorm. Eyes wild, almost panic stricken. 

“Have you guys seen y/n? She was in the dorm and then she just vanished! We can’t find her.” Jisung wails, coming in first. Clearly the most concerned out of the group.

“Yea, she was here just here.” Felix remarks, finally his feet coming to a rest. 

“Was?” 

“We're waiting for touchdown.” IN shrugs, now scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. 

“What?” 

The maknaes phone notification appears on his screen and the ringtone he set goes off. A bright smile erupts on his face as he answers it, placing it down on the table as he hits speakerphone for everyone to hear. 

“You couldn't have given a better warning?!”  Chan's exasperated voice comes through the line.

“I said heads up.” IN chuckles.

“Heads up was not enough to have my heart leap out of my body. She appeared out of nowhere. How was I supposed to be ready for that?!” Chan howls. IN can’t contain his laughter at his leader's cries. 

“It worked?!” Felix beamed, eyes now sparkling with joy at you not being sent to god know where.

“Yes Lix it worked.” You sang from Chan's end of the phone. 

“Greeeeaaaaat.” Less than excited groans break out mixed with genuine cheers.

~🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖

“Um y/n, did you visit me at some point today?” There’s a slight tremble to IN’s voice as he returns to the dorms, not even taking his shoes off to come find you in the kitchen.

“No? I was with Changbin all day.” You chime brightly from your perch on the counter, legs swinging back and forth as you watch Changbin struggling to make a meal. 

“As annoying as it was, yeah she was with me the whole time. Why innie?” Changbin turns to the younger, concern written all over his face. You were still learning about the kids, how each one's reactions played a part in their personalities. But they knew each other better than themselves.

“I swear it felt like something was there today.. I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining things” IN huffs, shoulders slumping and head cast down. You catch his demeanor shift this time. Hopping off the counter you walk over to him, angling to catch his eyes now trained to the floor. 

“Can you show me where?” You smile at him sweetly. “I’ll take a look for you.”

He doesn’t say anything, only giving you a small nod, finally making eye contact again.

You and Changbin trapse after IN through the company hallways, he had been silent the whole trip there. Something had seriously left the maknae shaken, something you were determined to get to the bottom of. Only you are allowed to scare these boys now. 

Changbin steps to walk alongside IN now, draping an arm over his shoulders. You are left a few steps behind. As they take a turn down the last hallway, you can feel it. 

You don’t have a body anymore, you know that logically, but somehow there’s a heaviness to your steps that leave you stunned silent. If you had to breathe the air would appear thick, sinking to the bottom of your lungs. But you don’t and you almost have to convince yourself of that fact. 

The boys step into the open doorway vanishing into the room. You feel as though there’s a tickle on the back of your neck. The only thing you can think of that it reminds you of is the breath of someone standing too close behind you. 

You swear you can hear a whisper of a voice behind you. Instinct tells you to look behind you, but you don’t. The hallway is empty, your voice in your head tells you, you don’t have to worry anymore. 

Wait. Why did you have to worry? 

You blink several times, pushing away your confusion. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on yourself. You step into the room to see the two of them standing in the center of a vocal room, eyes darting around as IN’s voice finally speaks up.

“It was in here.” He gestures to the room. “I was sitting at the piano, facing away from the door and I felt like something came in. But I had the door locked. When I turned around I was just expecting to see you, but there was nothing.”

You walk over to where the keyboard is positioned, glancing over at the door you all had just come through. And just like that your breath would have hitched if you had one. 

“What is it y/n?” Changbin asks from behind you.

“I think we should head back.” Your eyes follow something in the room, moving up to the ceiling. “We can all talk about it together.”

“Sure?” The suspicion in Changbins voice does not go unmissed by you.

“You guys go first, I’ll meet you there.”

You can't see the shared look of distress passed between the two as you hear them leave, mumbling something as they go. You always fazed home first, too impatient to wait for them and wanting to annoy the next person as soon as possible. So you deciding to stay behind was something that stirred anxiety into them.

You want to reassure them, but you can’t. You can’t look away from what you’re seeing. You can feel them getting farther away from you, a forced faze back to the dorms. 

You hated accidentally falling out of their proximity, some force slapping you to their side. Always leaving you extremely disorientated. So you avoided it at all costs. But no this time, you feel the pull but you fight against it as you swear you can almost make out what you’re seeing. It’s on the tip of your tongue and that’s where it dies as you hear the same chilling voice rasp to you as before.

“Don’t worry, once you let go of everything else we can finally be together.”

And then you’re wrenched back to the dorms.

Stumbling to the floor you are met with 6 sets of eyes. The group chat had been notified as soon as the two left you behind. They were all waiting for you to return. Shortly after IN and Changbin returned, IN explaining what happened with him. 

Then it was your turn. But somehow you couldn’t remember what you thought you might have seen, the emotions you felt now fuzzy and muddy in your head.

“I'm not sure what it was, but it left a heavy residue. Like I could see where it had been on the walls and floor. I think it would be safe if you all traveled in pairs when you’re outside the apartments. Something just doesn’t feel right about it.” You think out loud. “Just being cautious until we can figure this out, I mean.”

“Yea, I think that’s a good idea.” Chan agrees after replaying your words. “I’ll call and get our schedules moved around so no ones alone.”

~🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖

As the weeks progressed, the boys were becoming more unsettled. Even in pairs they claimed to feel like they were being watched or followed. Any and everywhere outside the dorm building, mostly at work and then a trickling of outside. 

All the while you couldn’t shake forgetting something. There was something important you needed to remember. But everytime drawing a complete blank as to what it actually was. 

Your napping was also impossible now. Once being able to drift into nothing, is now replaced with the cold chill of hands on your skin, dark murmurs against your ears and the overwhelming feeling of grief. As scared as you were when you came back to the world, you couldn't remember exactly what had happened. Couldn’t place the familiarity of the hands, the voice and the words. 

You remained upfront with the members, explaining to Chan the ominous dissociative states you found yourself in. And how sometimes it wasn’t you that did it. One moment you could be with them and then the next gone. However, you would put everything you had into fighting it off, it had become frequent for almost a week, before you started to reel it in. it had been days since the last time, finally feeling like you had some control…

Until it hit you again. 

The boys were either napping in their dorms or watching tv or eating, some even opting to go to the company for some extra practice. It was an off day for them, all free to roam about as they pleased. You had walked into the living room of the Lee’s dorm when you are halted by a sudden wave of forgetfulness. 

“Are you ok, y/n?” You can hear Felix’s voice swim into your fog. 

“Yea, I just uh…forgot why I came in here..” You give your head a little shake trying to wave off the clouding fog that was slowly becoming thicker as the seconds ticked by. 

You could see through the glaze of your vision, like you were looking through a window of ice, three figures coming closer. You hear their muffled voices as you stumble slightly.

“I’m fine-” You slur out. Unknowing what they were actually saying to you. “I-”

“I know why you’re fighting me so hard. You want me to prove my love for you, don’t you worry I’m not going anywhere.” 

The voice envelopes you like a cement blanket, your vision darkening….

“Y/N!” 

You immediately snap out of it, standing straight, eyes now clear. “Hyunjin!” 

And you phase out. 

~🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗

Staggering a couple of steps, you attempt to catch yourself but fail. You plummet forwards to the floor, hands coming out to catch yourself. The ringing is excruciatingly loud now, lights in the room blindingly bright. 

Where are you? Someone screamed your name, who was it…? You knew who it was.

Painfully slow you wince as you lift your head to look around the room. Light reflections from the far end. Mirrors, those must be mirrors…dance studio. Your vision is still swimming, unable to focus, if you weren’t already certain you’d think you were underwater with how submerged you feel. 

Peering over to the side, shifting your head as little as possible. Gut twisting nausea hits you as you vaguely make out a figure lying on the floor. Fighting through the unseen force dragging your body down, one limb at a time you begin to crawl over. 

Your voice coming out in a weak attempt, “Hyunjin”.

A feeble moan comes from the blurry figure, still unmoving.

Hand moving forward to continue moving, don’t stop moving.

‘I-’

“Hyunjin!” Ignoring the voice banging itself against your skull you have to get to him. 

‘You-’

“Hyunjin!” Finally movement from the figure. Only a few more shuffles and you’ll be able to reach him. 

‘Me-’

Finally leaning over the figure you can now see some of him. Your mind is stuck in a fishbowl view. He’s lying on his back, chest rising and falling in deep rhythmic breathing. He didn't seem like he was in pain. You want to touch him, make sure he’s ok, somehow wake him up. Go for help. What you wouldn’t give to be able to go get help right now. Who did Hyunjin say he was coming here with? Why can’t you remember anything?

Who was at the dorm? Felix, Minho and IN. Who did he leave with?

‘-estiny’ 

‘SHUT UP!’ You scream back in your mind. You needed to think, but you couldn’t even hear yourself try. 

‘-ove’

You grapple with your mind to think clearly, you just had to make your body work too. “SEUNGMIN!” 

As his name leaves you the practice room door swings open. Faces you couldn’t recognize and eyes that couldn’t see you crowd around Hyunjin. Seungmin’s face comes into focus, as the chaos carries the unconscious dancer out. 

“Y/N, what happened?” He finally asks when everyone else left the room, crouching down to you. 

“I don’t know, he… I heard him yell my name from the dorm and I ended up here.” 

“Everyone heard him yell. That’s why we all came running. Did anything else happen? I’m going to go find out if he’s ok, but is there anything I need to know? Are you ok?” As he spoke, the water from the room began to drain. Your eyes focusing once again on your surroundings, the ringing dying out. 

“No, just go with him, I’m fine.” You wave him away, he only hesitates for a moment before leaving you alone in the room 2 unopened, iced water bottles lay in his place. He must have gone to get them water. 

Pushing from your hands, you fumble to sit. 

“What do you want?” A broken whisper comes out of you, voice almost sounding not like your own. Eyes trained to the ceiling. 

This time the fade out is slow, like you can feel it fluttering down on you like a fresh sheet. 

The same infuriating voice sounds as you slip away. 

‘I love you and you love me. We’re destiny.’

~🌒🌓🌔🌕

Movie night was demanded of all of you when you finally returned from your ‘nap’. Hyunjin was not able to remember what happened, but he did remember calling your name. But he said it felt more like a warning call than him wanting you to come help him. You were all unnerved by this, but upon long late night discussions you all agreed to let it rest for now. They had a hectic schedule coming up after the next few days of being off. 

They were scheduled to go overseas for some promotional work, you were excited about traveling when they first told you. But as time ticked on and you let your mind wander you became increasingly uncomfortable with it. Maybe you could stay behind in the dorms? You could wait for them to get back.  

The credits begin to roll over the screen breaking all of you out of your 20 minute silence. The plot twist actually surprises you all near the end, leaving you quietly focused.

“Reincarnation would be pretty cool.” Jisung’s eyes wide in disbelief, finally someone speaking.

“You know what would be even better?” Felix wiggled his eyebrows at his birthday twin, only to have him shake his head in response. “If we all got to do the next life together!” 

“Yes!” Jisung cheered, hands thrown in the air in excitement. Snacks completely forgotten in bowls on the table and floor. 

“It does make sense. None of us could manage alone anymore, at least I wouldn’t be able to.” Chan laughs at the dramatic younger ones, as they both throw themselves into their leader's lap. Fits of giggles erupting.

“You really want us to all do this again?” Minho complains, the thought already exhausting him.

“Of course!” Felix continues to giggle as Chan gives him a hug, Changbin tickling him on his other side.

“You don’t want to?” Jisung already pushed away from the fight to turn his large puppy eyes to Minho. Pout forming on his lips, forcing Minho to look away abruptly. The question caught the other members' attention. 

“It’s not that…” Each member staring at him patiently waiting for his answer. He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Alright, the next life we do together.” 

“Promise?” Felix turns on his puppy eyes, following Jisung’s lead.

“Promise.” The others all say in unison. 

You snicker to yourself, perched behind them all clustered on the couch, how were they so adorable to each other but also extremely annoying?

Clearly your noises didn’t go unnoticed.

“Y/n, do not even think you can go to the next life without us. ALL of us” Hyunjin glares at you. 

“What am I supposed to do? Wait for you?” You feign irritation. Next life huh?

“Yes!! There is no way in hell you are being reincarnated without us, we can finally annoy you then, instead of you just annoying us. And we’ve all just promised to have the next life together, so you’re stuck with us.” Changbin demands, the tone in his voice pushing through the idea that this was final. 

“Too bad. You don’t have a choice now.” Minho smirks at you, causing you to mimik him from before, eyes rolling in mock disgust.

The next life with these weirdos? You guess that’s something you could do. Maybe this is what having a home could feel like… being not alone and being wanted made you feel something again. Something you hadn’t felt for a long time, something you had almost forgotten. 

Trying to hide a smile you turn away from them, “Whatever.” is all you can manage.

Two more days of having them all to yourself then it’s back to business. Discomfort settles in you again, yea maybe you’ll stay home. You’ve gotten pretty good at poltegiesting the tv on and netflix, slowly being able to move things slightly, playing around with equipment they brought into the dorms. Hey, maybe they can leave you some stuff to attempt to interact with.

You’d be ok here alone. Something in you was saying you should stay back. This time you’d listen to your gut feeling.

~🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗

“Where exactly are we going?” You whine from behind the group. They all had insisted you went out tonight, something to do with having fun to distract from all the creepiness that now was a part of their daily lives. And also their impending work trip.

“We told you it’s a surprise.” Minho huffs annoyingly at you.

“And I told you I don’t like surprises.” You grumble, continuing to wander down a gravel path through a large park. The evening had darkened the sky, however along the path they had taken it was illuminated with string lights. The trees break up ahead and you can see even more lights. You squint trying to get a better idea of what the heck this was.

“No way-” Your mouth hangs open. 

A pop-up carnival, adorned with beautiful lights, multiple rides, little shops, tents and so many more options. The night air is buzzing as you look at the others who are waiting for you. 

“Surprise!” Hyungjin beams. 

“Time to have fun.” Felix chirps before gesturing forward, and that was all the invitation you needed to enjoy yourself tonight.

—-

After a few hours and your second round of the carnival, each member is stuffing their faces with some form of snack. You notice a smaller trailer just out of the main circle trail. 

‘Tarot reading/Fortune reading/Psychic medium’

Your pace slows as you feel a slight pull towards it. 

“Oooo a psychic!” Jisung shouts excitedly from beside you, making you jump a little. “Should we check it out?”

“Aren’t they all just scammers?” Seungmin deadpanes towards the marked trailer.

“We have the perfect thing to test them out.” Minho counters. “If they pick up on y/n then they are real, if not they are fake”

You nod to the group. That does make complete sense.

“I’m in.” You smile before skipping your way over the boys following close behind, the Medium didn’t have a line or anything so it seemed like this would be a quick visit. If anything you could knock some things off their wall if they got things wrong. It’d be fun regardless.

Upon entering you instantly notice a thick foreboding smog that clung to the air. Something in the back of your mind is telling you to leave, barely one foot inside the trailer. The members crowd in around you giving you a chance to take in the small space. A burgundy wall of curtains behind a small counter with a korean sign you couldn't read. 

The members had been helping you learn to read Korean but some things and words were harder than others. 

The walls of the trailer you could see had trinkets and lace draping meticulously and delicately placed with symbols you had never seen before. However, each symbol makes you feel a certain way…You couldn't describe it but it was as if you glanced a little too long you’d either feel nauseous, giddy or incredibly nervous.  Unable to focus on one thing, your mind hyper tracked every thing in the tiny room. 

Everything except the curtain opening slightly. 

A young couple arm in arm walked out merrily, smiling at nothing but each other. Clearly given some form of good knews, fake or not. You watched them walk out before turning back to the group.

“Next please~” A tender voice sang out from behind the curtain. Still shifted to the side, the members share a look before walking through, you only hesitate for a moment, the panic of wanting to run weighing down on you. Pushing past it you follow them into the other portion of the trailer.

Entering the room the thick feeling no longer clings to you. It’s like it was trapped in another space. The room coloured in deep tapestries, symbols, mirrors and prints along the walls. A bookshelf full of old looking books, crystals splayed around them. Crystals hang from the ceiling in bottles and in cages, along with plants around the whole of the room. You almost feel comfortable here, that is until a voice brings you out of your wonder.

“Normally I’d request all excess energies to remain outside, however I do not believe I have to this time.” The female voice sings. “You’ve brought someone with you.”

She’s hidden by the members all crowding around her table, it’s not until they all take their seats that you finally get a look at her. The years have aged her….not well to put it nicely. Her body frail, hands shake slightly as she covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. 

Changbin looks over at you, giving you a ‘what the hell is this?’ kind of look. All the others were stunned, staring wide eyed at her instant recognition of you.

You shoot him a confused annoyed look, huffing at him to pay attention. In response he rolls his eyes and looks back to her. 

“A young girl, your age I feel.” This time not hiding her laugh. “She’s a spunky one I take it?”

“Spunky is an understatement.” Minho mumbles under his breath. 

If looks could kill, he would be dead with the glare you’re giving him, you stick your tongue out at them.

 “I will give you my quick introduction, and what I normally do for people. However, I will be doing something a little different today.” She begins. “My name is Sengul. I offer Tarot card readings, communications with deceased loved ones or palm readings. But today let us discuss the young lady that has joined you today.”

You eye her carefully, clearly she wasn’t someone to be taken lightly. No one knew about you other than the 8 members, so she shouldn’t have been able to know you were there.

“Can you see her?” Jisungs voice squeaks out, shifting closer to Minho. MInho’s hand coming over to rest on the youngers tapping knee.

“No, but I can feel her.” The medium smiles at the nervous rapper. “She has a very strong presence. An aura if you will, a projection of emotions. And I take it upon your response to my words you all know of her?”

“Yes we do. We can see and hear her clearly.” Chan states confidently, you can tell by his tone he’s thinking over his words carefully. 

“I see, and she has been here for quite some time?” 

Eight heads nod simultaneously. 

“And the other….presence?” Her voice drops.

“You can feel that one too?” Shock encapsules Felix’ normally tender voice.

“Both very different, both just as strong I fear.” Sengul murmurs to herself, thinking out loud. 

“Should we be worried?” Chan’s face morphs into a deadpan, quiet demands.

“All I feel from the young lady is pure… love.” Panicking you train your eyes to the floor. You weren’t good at talking about your feelings. It was easier to hide behind shrewd comments, bitter banter and condescending tones. And now she was laying it all out for them, all your feelings for them. “The need to protect is strong. Also the need to not be alone, not for the fear of being alone but of loving too strong. Wanting to be with the people you so deeply care about continuously. Doing everything you can to procure someone's happiness. There’s a sense of ‘if you are happy then I am too’. Not done for selfish reasons but out of love for them.” 

If you can’t see them then they can’t see you right? You wished the ground would actually swallow you whole right now, you didn’t want to have to talk about this later, knowing the boys would pester you about this when you got out of here.

But she doesn't stop. “A soul who chooses comfort and trust in the living can open up their doorway to be seen and heard like she has with you. But this takes complete trust in the individual, for a whole group to be given that is truly a gift in itself. Even if the soul itself is not aware of it, sometimes that’s where fate plays a part.”

“That would make sense as to why I saw her the first time.” Hyunjin’s voice comes out soothing, but you're too afraid to look up. Why did you have to be visible? “You mentioned the other?” 

Thank god, please move on.

At first she only hums at his question, standing slightly to the side behind the members you look up at her. Fear of your feelings being known, now forgotten. 

“I will be honest with you. I don’t believe this one to be like her. A putrid smell invaded my senses under her arua. It lingers on you the way soot would, gathering thicker and thicker on you each time. Draining you, like leech upon flesh. It is dark, something I myself am uncomfortable dealing with.” Her strong eyes trying to reach each member, the sincerity in her voice, the worry.

“Human..?” An unfinished question. 

“It was once.” 

“How can a human soul be something like this?” Minho’s hand tightens on Jisungs knee, who in return clasps his hand over his Hyungs, trying to now calm the rage set in the dancer's jaw.

“Sometimes, if a soul is truly corrupt in life it can form itself into something inhumanly evil. The reincarnation process is impossible. It can only cling to this world until it achieves what it wants.” Sengul looks apologetically at Minho.

“Achieving what?” 

“Whatever it was after in the living. Once it has it, it will bleed it until the soul is lost into nothing. It will no longer exist. These fractured souls are everywhere, I’m surprised you’ve been able to feel one.” Sengul explains cautiously, hands trembling on the table.

“Maybe it's because we’ve been around y/n for so long, we can pick up on some now?”

“Perhaps” Medium hums, her sad eyes betraying her. There’s more she isn’t saying. “Perhaps you’ve just come into contact with it through somewhere you’ve been.” 

‘Somewhere you’ve been’ echos in your head… ‘somewhere they’ve been…’

As the boys listen on, something draws you to the side of the trailer. An ornate gold framed oval mirror hangs among the vines and crystals on her wall. You don’t make a step closer, only turning enough to look at it. Stupefied in place, your eyes wide as the voices around you drown out. For the first time in years you make eye contact with yourself in the glass. Noticing a pair of steady eyes watching you through the glass, your body trembles as you let yours drift to them. 

The reflection of the Medium is staring at you, your chest rising and falling as if you're struggling to control your breath. She gives you a soft, sad smile, her eyes beaming with so much…was this sympathy… or was it pity? 

You break away to check on the others. Could they see what you were seeing? 

The Medium and the members are still carrying on their conversation, unaware of what was happening to you. Clearly this was just for you. You quickly look back, making sure you hadn’t imagined it. Once again eyes finding the Mediums reflection still looking at you. So heartbroken. 

As if slowly guided forward you began to step towards the mirror. The closer you get the more drawn you are to her. She stands from her stool, matching her steps to yours. With each step you feel an electric vibration through your body. Your hand reaches out to feel the glass in front of you, her doing the same. It almost feels as though you are making contact with someone, there's now despair engraved into the lines of her face. 

Her lips don’t move when you hear her voice, “I am so sorry my child.”

Before you can ask her, her reflection fades away in a static like motion, morphing into a tall dark figure behind you. You can’t see any facial features, you don’t know what this is. 

Something feels incredibly off, looking back at yourself you see a single tear escape down your cheek. The figure's hand reaches up behind you, fingers wrapping around your neck. Another tear breaks free when your eyes inevitably close, memories flood your mind. The dam finally broken, a dam you wish you could rebuild. But it's too late. 

You remember.

“Nonononono, you can’t leave me. I’ll follow you, I’ll find you my precious. We’ll be together always”

~🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You kept yourself relatively calm, at least on the outside. The days, hours, minutes even leading up to the boys traveling to Japan, were some of the most emotionally draining for you. 

Watching them each pack a bag made you feel like they were the ones leaving you behind. Ultimately you knew that wasn’t true, they’d never leave you behind.

But still you smiled and waved as they left acting like you didn’t know what was coming next. Alone you wandered through the dorms, memories flashing in a vivid 4k movie you had saved.

Late nights talking with Minho about his hidden, not so hidden feelings for his soulmate. Leading to late nights talking to Jisung about the same thing. You give them what advice you could but ultimately leave the ball in their court if they were to bring it up with the other. Which to your joy they did.

Hours watching and rewatching Hyunjin dance over and over again, upon his request. Noting changes, weak steps, things he couldn’t see himself. Then you try to erase the doubts he had for himself in his abilities to master his own choreo. Him unloading his worries on you, for you to help amend. 

Following Felix to his voice lessons, only for him to be overcome with nervousness at you listening. Unsure of how to use his beautifully comforting instrument. You encourage him to try more, different styles, different techniques and decide how he wants it to sound. Not how anyone told him he had to sound, believe in what he was singing for, himself.

No longer sitting idly as you all watched Chan overwork and overthink himself. His unableness to see his own worth in the eyes of others. You had gotten so worked up over him self-deprecating that you had snapped. Throwing every piece of importance that his existence brings to so many people, unrelenting confident laced compliments, until he broke down crying. 

Bothering Changbin on his solo trips to the gym on days he felt weak. Too many worries about his members and his music filling his mind, making it hard for him to see his strength as a person. He stayed longer at the gym those days, trying to convince himself of his solidity. On these days you felt an even greater urge to voice and compliment him on his reps and stamina. It might have seemed like you were only feeding into this idea of muscularity, but he knew, he always knew why you were really there. And he always just laughed and said you were annoying, but he never asked you to leave him. And so you’d stay until the end.

Days observing the youngest members of the group. Each day growing more and more into bright men. Considerate, emotionally intelligent humans, finding themselves in a world of harsh criticisms and cruel expectations. But still, watching them thrive in the safety of the home they all created with each other was something beautiful in itself. The fearlessness of Seungmin and IN was something that people should be jealous of.

How can a world shrouded with darkness still hold so much light?

Each room now contains countless memories and moments you’ve locked away in your heart. Ones you will hold onto until the last moment, taking them with you. Not remembering your life wasn’t painful neither was remembering what happened at the end of it. What was truly the most excruciating was now saying good-bye to a home you remember, one you didn’t want to leave. 

Making your way through the archives of memories you sit down at the dining table. Recording equipment, ipads and other electronics placed especially for you to kill time until they returned. Eyes glazing over, chest heavy, lingerings of a broken promise hanging in the air.

Exerting every ounce of strength left in you, you reach out to one of the machines. 

A deafening click fills the room as the recording unit turns on.

~🌑

Voice recording:

‘Hey guys! Yea it’s me, y/n. Bet you didn’t know I could do this huh? Honestly I’ve been practicing trying to use this recording thingy myself for a while, and let me tell you it wasn’t easy *laughs nervously*

I uh just wanted to say thank you, ya know for letting me hang around you guys. I can’t tell you how bored I’ve been and this has been the single most exciting moments in my undead life. So yea, thank you for that.

But um…. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to say all this to your faces before leaving, so I guess I’m taking the coward's way out. Leaving this for you to find after I’m gone. 

It doesn’t look like I’ll be waiting on the other side for you guys. I know I promised we’d all start the next life together, but uh…. I don’t… I won’t be having a next go at this. I guess this was meant to be my only life. 

I realized what it was that was following you guys, and when I did I got all of my memories back from when I died. I won’t be getting into detail about that because… I don’t- I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want you guys to think about it. When I figured it out, I knew the only way it would stop coming after you was me.

 …It only ever wanted me… 

I know you’ll be upset and furious with me that I didn’t talk to you before deciding, but sometimes you have to make a hard decision for the good of the group right?.. and I uh… it wasn’t fair for me to let you guys deal with this when it’s my fault.

So I am sorry, but also not because I enjoyed annoyingly haunting you. 

You’ll be getting on a plane to come back in a few days.

So I guess it’s time, if i don’t do it now I’ll chicken out. I have to go back to my room.. we’ll it’s not my room anymore. 

*short pause*

I think that’s what scares me the most about this. Not the unexisting part, I mean, but having to go back to my old safe room. That isn’t so safe anymore, not with it being in there. 

This, with you, was what being safe felt like. Even if it only lasted for a moment.

A part of me really hopes that when I walk through those doors you’ll forget all about me, so you won’t have to deal with it after I’m gone. I don’t want you to be sad, or feel guilty for my choice…. Do you think if I beg the universe hard enough it could happen? Here’s me hoping that maybe I’ll have more luck in death, than in life?

But it’s ok. 

You will be ok.

I know these weren’t the answers we were hoping to find. These are just the answers we’ve been given.

I’d say see you later, like I always do but that feels like a lie now…

So I guess it’s Goodbye.

*long pause, sniffling can be heard over the recording*

I Love you guys.’

*CLICK end of recording *

masterlist

[biaswreckme]

how to care for your hybrid | jjk

Pairing: hybrid!Jungkook/Reader

Member: Jungkook

Length: 5253 words

Genre: smut, fluff, angst, 5+1

Rating: 18+

Triggers/Warnings: smut, hybrid smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), insinuation of past abuse (but nothing explicit or even saying what happened), mention of abandonment 

Project: @btscreatorscorner​ March workshop with the theme push the limits

Summary: how to care for your hybrid, or 5 times you cared for bunny hybrid!Jungkook and one time he took care of you

A/N: So this was supposed to be a drabble and it turned out to be a 5k fic. Alright. This was written for this month’s workshop for BTS Creators’ Corner network, and the theme was to push the limits. I had never written a hybrid fic before, so I interpret the theme as coming out of my writing comfort zone (even though it’s still smut...) Thankssss to my lobely lobely betas, @heejinnien​ for beta-reading the sfw parts of this fic, and to @taegularities​​ for beta-reading the nsfw bit :3 I love you girls ♥

You can find the sequel here.

1. Provide them with a comfortable home

You still remembered the day you had brought Jungkook home from the shelter. You had gone with a friend, just as a companion, not intending nor really wanting to adopt a hybrid. Sure, you’d feel lonely sometimes, living by yourself and in a foreign country, but the thought of adopting a hybrid had never crossed your mind. Adopting a plant? Sure. Adopting a cat? Maybe. Adopting a hybrid? Never. Until you saw him, that is.

The shelter was legit, your friend had said, having done her research. But the place still made you uncomfortable; the creatures, those people, inside the divisions - you refuse to think of them as cages - waiting for someone to help. You had to bite your lip to keep from crying upon seeing them, knowing it was a rescue shelter, and then your eyes crossed with his.

There was some magnetic energy in the air that had pulled you closer to his unit until you could read the informational pamphlet: he was named Jungkook, a rescue bunny hybrid. Your gaze had immediately shifted to the man again; he was only a couple of years younger than you, but there had been something about his gaze that almost hypnotized you. He had such wide, expressive, and round eyes glistening with moisture and paired with his ears drooping low on the back of his head, you could not resist it.

There would be a home inspection and you would need to get some provisions to fulfill all the exigencies, but you rushed to get everything together. They had provided you with a list of items to make the bunny hybrid comfortable and ease the transition, and you did not hesitate, deciding to worry about the credit card bills later.

And so you took him home. He had clung to you entering the apartment, slowly exploring the space and showing where he would be sleeping. At the shelter, they had told you the hybrid would need an appropriate bed, but you hadn’t felt comfortable just getting a bunny bed at the store, so you got him a real and human bed, wanting him to feel at ease enough to not need to shift into a full bunny to sleep - they had also told you he tended to do that, sleeping as a bunny because he did not feel comfortable in his hybrid human-like body.

You had gotten the basics necessary for the approval of the adoption, and then you took him to the store, letting him choose his own things. It would be a while until that wide-eyed, surprised look would leave his expression, even when you were alone at the apartment and just hanging out on the couch on a Sunday night. That first night, giving him the blankets and tucking him in, you promised to take care of him, and you could barely hear his voice in reply, so small and shy, even though he was much taller - and more muscly - than you. It did not feel right that he had to make himself so quiet and small if that was even possible, so you swore to yourself that you would do everything to help him come out of his shell.

And soon you would find yourself in the company of a very loud and boisterous bunny, no shame about singing, his love for gaming until late hours, and working out. And you could not avoid falling in love with him.

2. Make sure they are getting appropriate food

It was a Friday night, you got home tired after a long day at work, and you smiled to yourself, biting your own lip upon the sight that greeted you upon entering the apartment. A shirtless Jungkook, towel haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, his torso glistening with sweat from working out in your living room. He lifted his head upon hearing you enter, a big smile lighting up his face and his long ears pointed up. He got up and made a movement to hug you.

“Hi, noona!”

“Oh no, you don’t,” you barely ducked out of the day. “Jungkook, you’re sweaty…”

He was faster than you, predicting where you were going to dodge his new attempt at enveloping you with his arms, something he had been picking up whenever you joined him in a boxing workout. His arms quickly went around your body, pressing you against him, your forearms up in the failed endeavor of avoiding getting his sweat all over you. He hugged you tight, his chin resting on your shoulder and you felt one of his ears on your head as his entire body seemed to tremble, and as you looked down you saw his tail wiggle from side to side rapidly.

“You’re finally home,” he sighed, swaying you softly from side to side.

“Is everything okay, bun? I’m sorry I’m late, they had me stay…”

“I’m so hungry,” you could almost see the pout, knowing the small lisp that came out whenever he pursed his lips and whined.

You looked around the living room, seeing the empty protein shaker bottle on the coffee table, narrowing your eyes.

“Didn’t you have your shake? You were working out.”

“Well, I did…” he started.

“We went grocery shopping and there are still some veggies and fruit cut up from our weekend meal prep, bun,” you felt him hiding his face even more on your shoulder, squeezing your body. “What’s going on? Am I forgetting something?” There was a slightly teasing tone in your voice, knowing what he wanted.

“You promised…” his voice was a mumble, muffled by the way his pouty lips were pressing on your body, but before you could ask him to repeat, “You promised pizza night, noona.”

“I know, bun, I haven’t forgotten it,” you stepped away from him, looking into his eyes and seeing his demeanor change completely.

“Oh?”

“I made the order when I was stuck at a red light. I got your favorite,” you were about to continue, but was interrupted by his sweaty hug again, this time accompanied by a chuckle.

“Ok, we have just enough time to shower before it arrives, so let’s run and get ready.”

You were right and there was just enough time to quickly wash the day - and Jungkook’s sweat - away. You set up the coffee table while he went to get the pizza, knowing it would be hot and he would almost drop it entering the apartment as usual. You sat side by side on the floor in front of the small table, turning the television on to the show you have been binging, your backs propped up against the sofa.

Jungkook was usually very strict with his diet, being mindful of the food he ingested to maintain his physique and try to lower his body fat percentage - which was crazy to you, his muscles were already prominent and he seemed to get only bigger… how were you supposed to leave the house to work when you had your bun looking like that, especially early mornings, his hooded half-open eyes almost smiling at you wishing you a good day at work. Your fridge was always full of fresh and cut-up vegetables, fruit, and greens, catering to his diet (and you had to admit you have been eating much better since he entered your life). Sometimes you thought it was all his difficulties from before, his time spent in the shelter, that he had such a love for a cheesy hot pizza every once in a while during the weekend.

And how could you say no to him when he purposefully lowered his ears, pouted, and widened his big round eyes even more to convince you?

3. Explore new things together

“Come on baby, you said you wanted to try this. It’s just us now.”

“Y… yes, noona. It’s just so… big.” Jungkook’s eyes were wide open, looking at the size of the pool in the club. For as much of a muscle bunny he was, the sheer magnitude of the pool seemed to scare him.

He first brought up the idea when you were watching tv a few days ago, some random program late at night showing people on a beach, and Jungkook had seemed to be fixated on the screen. He wanted to visit the sea, for he had never been there before. You agreed to it, but you had to admit that you were scared too, so you compromised: you would start your water adventures at a pool, so he could test things out, see if he truly enjoyed being in the water and swimming.

A few calls later there you were, standing by the water. You picked a time when they said people weren’t usually in - it even involved getting a day off work so you could go this early, but you would do everything for Jungkook. You looked at him, observant, watching his reactions carefully. His ears were down the back of his head, his hands clenched together in front of his shirtless torso, his front teeth worrying into his bottom lip. You took one of his hands into yours and started taking him in the direction of the small ladder to enter the pool. For a moment you wanted to jump in, but you didn’t want to make him even more nervous.

“It’s okay, bun, we’re going into the shallower part so most of your body will be above the water, ok?”

He nodded, but still seemed hesitant to get in, waiting for you to do it first. You stepped down the small ladder, showing him that almost half of your body was above the water, that he would be safe and didn’t need to worry about this part. The water was on the warmer side; you thought going for the hot pool was the best idea to help him feel comfortable at first. He stepped in feet by feet, slowly, his nose scrunched, but the moment he felt the warmth on his feet it was like magic: his ears shot up and his eyes widened in surprise, his mouth coming into a small circle.

You smiled encouragingly and stepped back, giving him some space, seeing him put one of his feet to the bottom and then the other, grounding himself. He was taller than you and he noticed the difference in the level of the water surrounding you. You lowered your body, telling him you were doing it first so as not to frighten him and submerged yourself to get your hair wet. When you emerged, you saw his eyes were wide again, but his ears were not down as before. There was a glint of curiosity in his expression and you nodded in encouragement for him to try it out.

“It’s just like when you wet your hair in the tube, bun. Here, hold on to my hands and remember to hold your breath.”

He did so, holding them tightly in his fists as he bent his knees and lowered his body. You chuckled slightly when you saw that half of his ears were still out of the water, so you quickly untangled one of your hands from his and lightly pressed on them so they were submerged too. He got up and shook his head, water droplets flying everywhere. He started laughing when he saw you put your hands in your eyes, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Good?”

“Yes, noona, it’s good.”

“Are you ready to go a bit deeper?” His long ears perked up at your question, but his face seemed apprehensive. “Not much, we’re not swimming today, just going a bit more so you can maybe try floating.” His head moved up and down, agreeing to the idea, and you couldn’t help but think it was so cute the way his ears moved too.

You grabbed both his hands again so you were looking at each other as you slowly started to step back further into the deeper part of the pool. You didn’t rush, letting him adjust to the increasing level of the water, and only moved when he seemed comfortable. Jungkook always loved to have baths, so you figured he would love going to the pool too, especially a hot one. His smile got wider with each step, feeling more confident and safe with you. When the water hit your shoulders, you stopped and let his hands go.

“Bun, let’s try floating, ok? We’re starting small today, so you can just come closer and put your arms around my shoulders.” You said as you turned your back to him, and almost immediately you felt his arms around you. “Good! Now try letting your feet rise from the floor, let your body float a little.”

He tentatively lifted his feet, clinging to you harder as his body moved with the slow slushing of the water.

“I’ve got you, Kook,” you said as you pressed your hands to his. “I’m not letting go. Trust me, bun. Kick your feet back and put your weight on me.”

You felt him kick the water behind you, his strong arms flexing as he let his weight fall onto you. You knew the moment he started to float and enjoyed it; he pressed his face against your neck and started giggling, and when you looked at him, his nose was scrunched with happiness. His long ears were slightly facing backward, his eyes half-closed, and his little tail wiggling. You walked around the same area of the pool while he kicked his feet behind him, laughing freely as he enjoyed himself. As soon as you taught him to swim you would be taking a small holiday on the beach; you wanted to see this joy in him forever.

This moment was worth everything.

4. Make sure they are getting enough attention

“Morning, noona.”

You heard his voice, so gentle and still thick from sleep, waking up to the sound and the small kisses, his lips softly pressing against the back of your neck, his nose smelling your hair, his warm chest pressed against your back. You made an attempt to move your body but he tightened his arms around you.

“No moving yet, noona.”

“Morning, bun. What are you doing?”

“Just making sure you’re not going to leave my arms today,” he started, and you noticed his voice was heavy with emotion.

“Bun?”

He stayed quiet, hiding his face on your shoulder blades, and you did not say anything else until you felt it, until you felt them. There were small droplets of tears falling on your skin, and you turned around quickly to look at him fighting his embrace. Your hands immediately went to his face, wiping his cheeks, seeing him close his eyes and just quietly crying. Whenever he got like this, he would usually be quieter, needing to talk in his own time, so you did not ask him anything else, giving him space to let his feelings out. All you did was press your forehead against his and wipe his tears with your thumbs, and when you saw he would not stop so soon, you hugged him, letting your shirt dampen without caring about it. The moment you cradled his head against your chest, sobs started to wreck his body, making him shake and you could feel tears gathering in your own eyes. You had no idea how long you were like that, slowly caressing his hair, minding his long ears, but all that mattered was Jungkook. Slowly you felt his body starting to shake less, his hard sobs turning into small hiccups as he almost clawed at your back, needing to be closer to you.

“You’re… you’re not leaving me, right, noona?” His voice was quiet, but his question was too loud in the silence of the bedroom on a Saturday morning.

“Jungkook… no, love, I’m not leaving you,” your heart started to crackle with this question, and you pressed him against you even more. “Why, why do you think that, bun?”

He sniffled, pressing his nose against you and inhaling deeply, then said, his tone still small, “I’m feeling lonely… this past week…”

“Oh, Kook…” it seemed impossible, but you held him even closer to you, “I’ve been just too busy and exhausted from work, I know I got here yesterday and you were already in bed… I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

He sniffled again and you felt a new wave of fresh tears wetting your clothes.

“I thought…” he started, but his voice faltered. “I thought I made you mad. I thought you were angry at me… and that…” there was a small sob that shook his entire body, “I was scared, noona, I was scared you were going to take me back.”

You could not stop your own tears from falling on top of his head; you had no idea he had felt that way. You had tried texting him during the day whenever you could have a moment for yourself at work throughout this insane week, but again and again, they demanded more hours from you and you did not have the chance to say no. Jungkook was still finding his freedom and footing in the world, and it had worried you that you had to leave him to spend more time by himself than usual. But you never expected this reaction, and you made up your mind. They could ask someone else at work, why did it always have to be you?

“No, Kook… Listen, bun,” your voice trembled, so you paused to be more stable when talking to him. “I’m so sorry you were alone this week, this is not going to happen again, I promise. And the day you came home with me I made a promise, remember? I’m never taking you back unless you want to go.”

He shook his head quickly, signaling his opposition to the idea.

“I don’t want you to go either, bun. I love you, and I’m sorry again.”

He finally looked at you, murmuring I love you too, a small smile gracing his lips. Your chest was starting to feel lighter, starting to relax after being so worried at his crying. You had never seen him like this, and you never wanted to see it again.

“What do you need from me, bun?” you said and kissed his forehead, letting your lips linger for a brief second.

“Can we just… stay in bed today? I want to stay like this in your arms, I missed you too much, noona.”

“Whatever you want, love, I’m yours.”

“I never want to leave this bed,” he whined, burrowing closer to you, and you noticed that even though his face was swollen from the tears and his voice was hoarse, his ears were more relaxed than they were before; they were tense in a way that was new to you.

“What about food? And I’m sorry, you’re not using this bed as a toilet, ok?” you tried to lighten the mood and it worked, the sound of his delightful chuckle filling the room, and you laughed along. But you understood and agreed. You never wanted to leave this bed. And at least for the day, you would only leave when necessary, needing to feel him in your embrace and carefully observe as he truly started to believe in you, leaving his worries in the past.

5. Love them unconditionally

The first time it happened was purely accidental. You were cuddling on the sofa, watching television, your hand caressing his hair when you felt his entire body tremble with such force that you stopped and looked at him, your hands away from him.

“Jungkook, bun, what… did I hurt you?”

You were worried; his arms were crossed in front of his body and his hands clasped together tightly on his lap. His doe-like eyes were more expressive than ever, open wide, his long ears were down, and he seemed to still be shivering. What had you done? You noticed there was a pink hue starting to tint his cheeks and neck and when you kept staring at him, you saw that he tried to make himself smaller. You felt tears start to gather in the corners of your eyes, fearful that you had done something to remind him of his life before, as he usually referred to the time that preceded the shelter.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I’m so sorry, just tell me what I did so I don’t do it again.”

“You didn’t…” he started, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. He cleared his throat and continued, his eyes wandering around the living room,  “you… I…”

You nodded, trying to encourage him to speak, needing to know what went wrong.

“Noona… my ears… my bunny ears, they’re, hm, too sensitive,” he said, blushing harder, and he shuddered.

Oh.

Oh. Your gaze shifted downwards, and you could see his hands were trying to conceal his erection. You licked your lips unconsciously, and his eyes seemed to get even bigger.

“Bad sensitive or good sensitive?”

He looked down at your question, clenching his hands and pressing them on his crotch, but said “Good sensitive, I think?”

You scooted a little closer to him on the couch but still did not touch him. “Talk to me, bun,” you said softly, feeling that the subject was delicate, but you wanted to know whether or not to bring it up again, whether or not you could touch him like that.

“Noona… no one ever touched them like this before, like you,” he seemed hesitant, but continued nonetheless, “you don’t hurt me. You like it, you like me, right?”

You did not think twice before enveloping him into a hug, pressing him tight against you, overwhelmed with emotions at his question.

“I love you, Jungkook. Every part of you.” You had a feeling that this was what he needed to hear. It was not often that you saw him being insecure anymore, and it tugged on your heart uncomfortably. “You don’t ever have to feel bad with me, ok? I love you,” you repeated, emphasizing, trying to comfort him.

“I love you too, Y/n,” his voice continued soft, but he looked a tiny percentage more confident. “I think… at some point… maybe…” he looked at you, and you nodded again for him to continue. “I think I might want you to touch them when we’re, you know,” he wiggled his eyebrows up and down, chuckling, and there he was, getting back to you.

You laughed with him. It was unusual seeing him this shy in talking about sex, as he was definitely not shy at all performing it or even talking about it most of the time, but you understood this was a different issue.

“Only if it will make you feel good, bun, you know I don’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable,” you took his hand and held it, caressing the back of it with your thumb, and he nodded.

The next time it happened was not accidental at all, and it caught you by surprise.

You were already in bed, whispering sweet nothings as sleep didn’t reach you. The kiss started innocent enough, his lips pressing softly against yours while his hands stopped at your lower back, pulling you towards his body. His tongue caressed your lower lip and you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss as you pressed your body closer to his. His leg nudged its way between yours, and shortly after he rolled over you, his underwear not able to conceal his erection and you felt it directly where you needed it as he grabbed your leg and wrapped it around his waist.

His kisses moved down to your neck, nipping and sucking, his hips subtly moving, stimulating you. You grabbed his hair as he descended, lifting your tank top, softly sucking on your nipples as his hands started to lower your panties. He wasted no time, licking your slit from bottom to top, pausing to circle your clit before putting his lips around it and sucking rhythmically as one of his fingers teased your opening, slowly moving in and out. It wasn’t long until you felt your orgasm building that your hands grabbed his hair, pulling him up and towards you.

“I want you in me,” you whispered against his lips, tasting yourself, you needed to feel him.

He nodded and quickly removed his underwear, throwing it haphazardly behind him. He moved back between your legs, lowering his body on top of yours as you crossed your legs on his waist, helping the angle. His cock started to press into you and you felt the delicious stretch, inch by inch. His thickness filled you perfectly; you could almost feel the veiny lines that adorned the underside of his cock pressed on your walls, and whenever his hips made those small sharp trusts, the upwards curve of his erection put some pressure just right where your sweet spot was.

It was sweet and slow, your mouths connected in a seemingly never-ending kiss, his hips moving without rush, the pleasure building unhurriedly and constantly, his weight on top of you heightening the feelings. You started canting your hips with his, your languid movements following his rhythm, and his hand reached to yours, intertwined your fingers. He broke the kiss, looking into your eyes as he directed your hand to his hair. You immediately entangled your fingers on his dark strands, tugging on it and he moaned, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again and stopping the movements of his hips. Before you could ask what happened, he pushed your fingers from his hair, shaking his head softly and smiling. Still staring, he lowered his head and made your fingertips graze against one of his long ears, almost a ghost-like touch. You opened your mouth in surprise and let out a loud moan at the same time, as your first touch on that sensitive part of his made him snap his hips hard once against yours.

A shiver perpassed his body, probably due to the intensity of the touch, but he looked at you and nodded, and so you did not hesitate. Your other hand went to his head too, so you could gently caress his bunny ears; he trembled again but started moving his hips, this time with more urgency and small whines came out of his mouth in between kisses on your neck. One of his hands sneaked between your bodies, his thumb circling your clit, pressing on it, needing you to get closer, the intensity of his orgasm starting to overwhelm him. You were already close, so close to it, but you wanted him to reach his peak with you.

“Can I…” you pause to moan, feeling the edge approaching, “can I touch your tail too?”

He seemed so lost in the moment that you had to repeat the question, the need clear in your voice, and upon hearing it again, he did not hesitate in moaning out an affirmation, curious to see what it would feel like. You waited until you were at the brink of the precipice, your right hand going down his body, his back. And just as a sharp snap of hips hit you just right, snapping the coil of your orgasm, your fingers reached the fluffy tail. Feeling your touch, Jungkook let out a loud shout and stopped his hips, his cock deep inside you as you felt him pulse and his entire body trembled. He fell on top of you as aftershocks still ran through his figure, little high-pitched moans leaving his lips. You were not sure how long you were like that, legs entangled, your fingers caressing his back soothingly as your own body calmed down from the intense orgasm.

“Jungkook?”

“I’m…” he moaned out, “good. We’re doing this again as soon as I have control over my body, okay?”

You chuckled and he moaned for you to stop, the tiniest of movements overwhelming his senses. The next time you giggled at a comment he made, he turned you over, pushing your upper body into the bed and hoisting your hips up, and you certainly did not laugh anymore that night.

+1: Expect to be surprised by them

You heard the commotion outside on the street and you ran out of the apartment to the front door of the small building to see what it was about, and you opened it just in time to see Jungkook stepping out of the cause of the noise.

“Bun, what’s all this?”

“Oh hi noona! Surprise!”

It was indeed a surprise. This morning you had woken up and could not find Jungkook anywhere so you assumed he had gone for a run, but apparently not. There he was standing and waving at you in front of a camper van, a huge smile on his face, his long ears perked up. You could see your neighbors, Taehyung and his cat hybrid Jimin next to him, a sheepish expression on Taehyung’s face and a smile as big as Jungkook’s on Jimin’s lips.

“We’re going camping, noona!” Jungkook said as he approached you, enveloping you into his arms. “You’ve been so tired from work and now that you have a break, I thought we could go camping and have some fun…”

“Right now?” You asked, a little overwhelmed, but starting to get excited about the idea.

“Yes! Taehyung-hyung called up this place and rented the van, we got groceries, and Jimin even helped me pick a new coat for you, noona, I know you needed one.”

You felt your eyes tear up. You were so used to taking care of Jungkook and putting him in the first place that it was strange having someone take care of you like this. But this was Jungkook, you should have expected that. The day you brought him home from the shelter, he had said he would take care of you just as much as you would take care of him. You kissed him softly, pressing him against your body, and you whispered a thank you low in his ear.

“I love you, noona. Now let’s get your things ready, we have to get going, or else Tae-hyung said he is going to play all his old records in this player he brought the entire trip,” he stated wide-eyed and clearly hinting that he definitely did not want that.

You chuckled, knowing how picky Jungkook was with everything - his food, his clothes, his music. You took his hand and pulled him into the house, waving to the other boys at the front, signaling you would be out in a minute. You quickly packed a bag with Jungkook’s help and you waited as he got his camera and equipment bag, not forgetting the aux cord, set on not letting the other boys have control over the music.

What you would find only later on that evening is that for the first night, Taehyung and Jimin would set their tent a little far from the camp, giving you two some space for the date Jungkook had planned. A bottle of your favorite wine, Jungkook cooking a simple dinner by the fire camp, the bun’s eyes shining brightly as he scrunched his nose, and his small tail wagging slowly to the rhythm of a Frank Sinatra record under the moonlight.

--

Hope you enjoyed it and if you want to read more, how about finding out about the first time bun!Jungkook went to the beach?

[lovely-angst]

number ‘x’ fan

a/n: um, this was a good idea in theory until i started writing it and then suddenly i wanted to trash this fic lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: a trip to Hawks’ agency gone wrong when a crazed fan runs their car into a pregnant you and your two young sons

word count: 5k

05.05.21

-

If there was something the nation of Japan adored more than Pro Hero Hawks himself, it was his wife and the little family he had with her. His family was something he always talked about when given any opportunity.

To think it had already been five years since Hawks introduced you to the world still baffles you.

When he had come up to you that one day, bringing up the dreaded question of finally bringing you and the kids into the public and media for all of the world to see—you were very nervous, to say the least.

You knew how terrible the media could be with all of the gossip and drama. You weren’t sure if you could handle all of the attraction so suddenly. But your husband Hawks was always so reassuring and in the most nonpressuring way possible.

“If you’re not ready, that’s totally okay! I just thought it would be more beneficial for us if the whole world knew who you guys are,” he said gently as he brought his gloved hand towards your cheek with the softest smile. “I just want the world to finally know about my beautiful family. I don’t want to keep you guys a secret anymore.”

You couldn’t help but melt into his hand, bringing your own to rub those cute little avian features on his eyes gently. “I know, you sweet bird,” you coo, watching how his lips curve up the slightest. “I just don’t know how this could benefit us.”

“Honey, the world is going to love you. They’re going to love our boys. From the pro heroes to the supportive fans I have, we have, they’ll want to protect you too. Trust me.”

Staring up into those comforting golden eyes, you took a deep breath before nodding. Of course, you’ll trust him.

And soon, the fated day of your “debut” was finally here. In your arms, you held your sweet one year old boy, Yuto, while your three year old, Kazuto, clung onto Hawks’ legs adorably.

Though you were very nervous with all of the photographers and news outlets all around you when you turned to glance over at Hawks and saw that proud and genuine smile on his face, all of your fears washed away.

Thinking back on the memory, you let out a content sigh as a smile grew on your face. Thankfully, those last five years flew by quite smoothly with the occasional rough bumps with his angry fan club, nothing that worried you terribly.

And while life was going great for you and your growing family with Hawks, it was going terrible for a self-proclaimed number one Hawks fan.

Clutching the newspaper tightly, their eyes reread the words on the front page for the hundredth time.

‘Pro Hero Hawks shows his seven-month pregnant wife some PDA!’ with a photo caught by the paparazzi showing the two of you sharing a kiss while holding hands.

The violent grip she held on the paper caused rips before letting out an angry scream, tearing the thin material into thousands of pieces letting it pool around her like snowflakes.

Hearing Hawks’ voice coming through the television, she finally snapped out of her thoughts and tuned in focus again, turning to face the television behind her. Her eyebrow irked in irritation as she watched how he wrapped a hand around her waist lovingly and securely.

“I don’t know what I would do without her,” Hawks beams to the reporter who had asked about you, “I mean, have you seen her? She’s the prettiest lady I have ever laid my eyes on and the most amazing wife and mother to our kids!”

“People say she is blessed to be married to me, but I can say for sure I am extremely blessed to be married to her”

Roughly turning the television off, the fan stormed into her bedroom before slamming the door shut behind her, causing the walls to shake. “How could you do this to me!” she screamed as she ran up to tear at the photos of Hawks she had glued on the walls of her bedroom, causing the covered walls to become bare again. “I thought you loved me! I showed you unconditional love! I’m your biggest fan! Everything was going great until that—that wench showed up!”

Boxes and figurines were tossed around, swung off shelves, quickly turning the room into a mess of Hawks merchandise.

It wasn’t until she finally looked over at her makeshift Hawks shrine that she let out a sigh, a smile growing on her lips. “Hawks, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it,” she cooed, walking up to the Hawks shrine before kneeling down in front of it. Reaching over to brush her finger gently over the photo of the two of them—a photo she managed to obtain at a VIP fan meet.

Pressing onto the photo where Hawks stood, she continued to stare at it lovingly, “I know you love me, Hawks. I’ll make sure that it will be just us again.”

-

“Yuto, Kazuto, hurry up and get dressed so we can visit papa at work,” you say from in the kitchen as you finished preparing lunch for the four of you—five, if you include the baby growing in your belly.

“I can’t find the Endeavor doll papa gave me!” Yuto cries, running into the kitchen with tears. Turning around, you offer the boy a gentle smile before brushing your hand through his soft blonde hair.

“Yuto, we can bring the Endeavor doll another time, okay? What if he gets lost today in papa’s big work building? That would be very sad, wouldn’t it?” You prompt and Yuto looks down before giving you a nod.

“We can find him together when we get back, okay? Right now, papa is waiting for us to come see him and he’s going to show you all of the cool stuff he does! We can wear our Hawks jacket instead to match papa. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Hearing your words, the bright red wings on his back fluff up and flutter in joy before he runs back to his room in joy. “Okay, mama!”

Placing the fried chicken into each container neatly, you covered the lids on them and placed them in the bag nicely before Kazuto walks in and takes the bag, hauling it over his shoulder. “I got it, mom.”

“Oh, honey, it might be heavy,” you try, but Kazuto shakes his head, “Don’t worry, plus your belly might make you tired, so I’ll carry this for you.”

Quick little platters rang in the air before Yuto popped back into the kitchen beside his older brother, “I’m ready, mama!”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute they were, looking so handsome, just like their dad.

“Okay boys, put your shoes on and let’s head out the door to papa’s agency.”

And it was such a beautiful day for a walk. The sun was out with little to no clouds and there was just the right amount of breeze that helped keep the three of you cool during these summer days.

Even though Hawks’ agency was just a 20-minute walk, he kept insisting on calling you a cab so you wouldn’t have to walk so far with the boys while pregnant. Of course, you declined, saying how it would be healthy for you and the baby to get fresh air and to walk around—to which he finally and hesitantly agreed on before adding a “call me when you get here.”

It was a normal occurrence getting greeted by Hawks fans on your outings like today. Most of them along the lines of, “(Name)-san! You look great today!” or “Love to see you and the boys healthy!” and not to mention, “I love you guys!”

It was sweet seeing supportive fans that your hard-working husband has.

“Ah, look! There is papa’s agency!” you say, pointing to the large and tall building, watching how your sons’ eyes lit up in awe. “Wow!” Yuto exclaims, turning over to you while fluttering his wings. “Papa works there?” 

“Yep! Let’s go and give him a surprise!” 

Walking over to the crosswalk just in front of the agency, you held Yuto’s hand in yours as the three of you waited for the signal to change to allow you to cross the road. “The roads are empty today, but we still need to watch for cars,” you point out to your boys as they began to look both ways. 

Everyone was busy at work, so no one was on the roads besides some parked cars. The crosswalk signal changed and played a tune while you and the boys began to cross the street towards Hawks’ agency to meet up with your dear husband. 

The sound of squealing tires from beside you had caught your attention and once you turned your head, it was already too late to dodge the oncoming vehicle speeding towards you and the boys. 

Gasping, you tried your best to push your boys out of the way as much as you could, but it wasn’t enough. 

The corner of the car was still able to hit Yuto and Kazuto, sending them crashing a few feet away from you. 

Unfortunately for you, the vehicle slammed head onto you. Rolling onto the hood, your head crashed into the windshield, smashing it and rolling off. A small pool of blood forming underneath your head as the car sped off. 

Your head rang as your vision slowed significantly. Turning your head, you see your boys on the ground more than an arms length away from you as they struggled to get up. 

Placing a shaky hand on your belly, you just hoped and prayed your baby was safe from the impact, but it wasn’t looking too good for you, you noted. 

It was surprising to you all the thoughts and information were able to process through your head after such an event. 

A crowd quickly formed around you and the boys as the voices began fading into the background as your conscious state was beginning to fade.

“My boys...” you say weakly to the stranger, eyes fluttering shut as your attempts to stay awake failed. “Ma’am! Keep your eyes open! Someone call for help!” 

“Get H-Hawks,” you tried once more before you succumbed to the drowsiness. Suddenly, it clicked in someone’s mind. “That’s Hawks’ wife and kids! His agency is just down the road! Someone get him!”

Kazuto slowly sat up from the rough fall, looking down at himself to spot any injuries. Spreading his wings, they seemed to be in mint condition, although his hip throbbed and his leg was slightly bruising from the impact. It wasn’t until he heard Yuto sobbing that he turned to check on his younger brother.

Yuto was beside him, face scrunched up, shaking and sobbing as his eyes met those of his brothers. “I think my wing is broken,” Yuto informed, turning to give his older brother a glance of his droopy wing. 

And before Kazuto could turn to check on you, a stranger stepped in his view, blocking him from the gruesome scene where his mother lay. “Hey there, friends, it looks like you both got a little bit hurt. The ambulance is on it’s way to take you and your mom to the hospital, so don’t worry. I’ll sit here with you guys and keep you safe, okay?” 

The two boys could only nod.

-

Hawks spun around in his swivel chair eagerly as he waited for his wife and kids to arrive. Sighing, he took out his phone for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, glancing at the last text message you sent. 

From: wifey <3

‘Be there in five minutes! see you soon papa bird! <3’ 

But it had already been half an hour since your text. He knew that sometimes the boys took a little bit longer to get out of the house, but this was a bit off. Maybe he was just being a little impatient.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and he immediately got up to answer it, wings fluttering with excitement. But when he opened the door to find his assistant looking all frazzled, he raised a brow. “What’s up?” 

“Hawks, your family,” they stammered, out of breath from running around the large building. “They’ve been in a bad accident in front of the agency. A car-”

Before they could even finish, Hawks had spun around and jumped through a large open window from his office before flying down towards where they had mentioned. 

His eyes darted around quickly before catching sight of a large crowd. Sending his feathers down, his heart froze when he recognized you and his boys down there.

From the height he was at, he could already tell it wasn’t looking good. He could spot his boys’ wings from here, thankfully, shooting down towards them. 

He just wanted to see his wife and kids and they end up getting hit by some low life?

Hawks landed quickly at the scene before rushing over towards his boys, who immediately noticed their father’s large wings. “Dad!” 

Falling onto his knees, his hands roamed around their smaller bodies, checking for injuries before bringing them both in for a hug, relieved to see them alive and breathing. “Are you two okay?” Where does it hurt?” 

“My body hurts a bit and Yuto’s wing might be broken,” Kazuto informed before Hawks immediately checked Yuto’s wing before he let out a sigh, “Just a sprain. Don’t worry, birdie.” he replies, pressing a kiss to his youngest’s head. 

“Stay here, I’m going to go check on mom. These nice people will help you two, okay? I’m here now, don’t worry.” Hawks said firmly to the boys, giving them one last embrace before the stranger before stepped back in to stay with the boys as Hawks ran over to find you. 

Once his eyes spotted you, he felt like his heart had stopped and died there and then. 

To put it plainly, you looked dead—blood soaked clothes, unconscious and limp on the ground as the paramedics prepared the stretcher for you.

“(Name)!” Hawks called out, running to your body only to be stopped by a paramedic. “I’m sorry Hawks, but it’s best if you leave the rest to us.” 

“W-where is she going?” Hawks asked as he watched them gently place your injured body onto the stretcher, following beside them and peeking at you the best he could. “We’re going to transport her to the nearest hospital. We have to check and make sure we don’t lose the baby. We don’t have time for any more questions,” and with that, they carefully lifted you into the ambulance and drove off, leaving him there with a million unanswered questions. 

He wished he could be by your side, but right now, his boys needed him.

It didn’t take Hawks long to arrive at the hospital with Yuto and Kazuto. Reaching the emergency desk, Hawks immediately asked for you before receiving an answer that stopped his already shaking heart.

“There has been complications with her pregnancy, so they have to conduct an emergency C-section to try and save the baby,” they inform, Hawks’ blood turning ice cold.

“C-Section? But she’s only seven months along! The baby isn’t ready!” He cried, wings even more frazzled than before. “I understand your concern. That is why we will do our best to make sure the baby is as healthy as possible.”

Hawks could only stare in shock before turning to his two young boys, who looked up at him worried.

“Is mama going to be okay?” Yuto asked, his wing still drooping behind him. Hawks offered a small but weak smile, “the doctors are doing their best to make mama feel better. While they help mama, we need to get you two checked to make sure you’re doing okay,” Hawks continued, lifting Yuto into his arms.

“How’s it going, Kazuto? Does your leg hurt too much?” Kazuto shakes his head, “It hurts, but I can still walk slowly.” Hawks nods before reaching over to push his son’s hair back as the three walk to get the boys checked on.

-

“Hawks?” hear a soft female voice, Hawks quickly turned to see Fuyumi walking towards them with a small smile. Hawks quickly stands to greet the friendly face, “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Fuyumi.”

“Don’t worry about it, dad seemed worried when he told me about your situation. Anything to help a friend, right?” she says and Hawks couldn’t help but give her a relieved smile. 

“Well, these are my boys. Kazuto is my oldest and Yuto is youngest. Well, with our new baby, Miyako will be the youngest,” Hawks explains as the two boys stand beside him, looking up at Fuyumi.

“Hi,” she starts, bending down towards their level, “My name is Fuyumi, I’m going to take care of you while your mama is getting better, okay?” 

Yuto clings onto Hawks’ legs, “I don’t want to go.”

“You know, my dad is the number one hero, Endeavor. He’s kind of scary, but I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two about being a hero.” That caught the boys’ attention, their wings raising up. 

“Your papa is the number one hero? My papa is the number two,” Yuto says and Fuyumi smiles at him. “That’s cool, huh? Your papa and my papa must be great friends.” Yuto couldn’t help but give her a cheeky smile, scrunching up his nose. 

“Well, let’s say goodbye to your papa and let’s go to my house and we can eat, okay?” Gently taking their hands, Fuyumi brought them over to her side before the two boys wave goodbye to Hawks. 

“Take care of mama, okay?” Yuto says as Hawks gives him a wink and a thumbs up. “I’ll tell her about how cool you two were being such big boys and not even crying.” 

Hawks stepped closer towards Fuyumi, cupping his hand around his mouth, “Yuto’s wing has a sprain, so make sure he doesn’t use it and doesn’t sleep on it if he can help it. Kazuto’s left hip and leg is in bad shape and is pretty bruised, so please keep some ice on it.” 

Pulling away, Fuyumi gives him a determined nod. “Thanks, see you in a few days.” and with that, she left the hospital with Yuto and Kazuto in hand. 

Letting out a sigh, Hawks carried on over towards the waiting area while he waited for your operation to finish. It had been only an hour since he had gotten here, but it felt like forever while he waited for some sort of news. 

After some time, he finally received news, great news. 

His daughter Miyako had been born via c-section and had no underlying health issues. Unfortunately, because she was born premature, she would need to be monitored at the hospital until she was strong enough without the help of the equipment to finally go home. 

That was fine by Hawks, of course, anything to help his baby girl. 

Walking down the quiet halls of the hospital room, Hawks nervously made his way into the NICU, where his baby girl, Miyako, would be staying for some time. 

“I’m here to see Miyako, I’m the dad,” he states before a nurse leads him over to her quiet room filled with the background noises of the equipment keeping her alive and healthy. 

Gently walking over, Hawks peeked over where the little girl was being incubated, his heart swelling at the sight of his third child and first girl. 

“Can I touch her?” Hawks asked the nurse behind him gently and nervously, seeing that she was tiny and barely over five pounds. “Of course, just wash your hands with soap.”

Doing just that, he made sure to take his time with cleaning his hands and forearms before drying them and making his way back to Miyako. 

Sticking his arms into the small openings, Hawks brushed the back of his fingers across her small yet still chubby cheeks. A smile blossomed onto his lips when she stretched out from his touch and that’s when he finally noticed the little wings perched on her back.

“You have wings, baby girl,” Hawks commented as his fingers ran across her fuzzy grey wings. “That makes three of us, huh?” 

He spent whatever time he could with her talking about himself, her brothers and her amazing mother before the nurse politely told him to leave so that Miyako could rest some more.

With all the terrible things that had happened, Miyako finally arriving was a good that broke the hardship. 

Before he could visit your room, he was stopped in the halls by a detective who flashed him his badge, “we found the culprit behind this attack.” Hawks frowned at the detective, “Let’s go to a more private setting,” he replied as the two made their way into a private room. 

“What did you find?” Hawks questioned, mirroring the detective who pulled out a chair to sit in. “An obsessed fan of yours,” he simply stated, tossing out a photo towards the winged man, “found this in the vehicle she was driving when she hit your wife and kids,” I assume you recognize the girl?” 

Staring at the photo in his hand, Hawks let out a groan as he slumped back on his chair, “I should’ve never suggested bringing (Name) and the kids out into the public,” Hawks sighed.

“This would have never happened.”

-

“Keigo?” 

“What is it, sweetheart?” he hums, fixing the vase full of your favorite flowers before walking over to you and sitting in the chair that sat beside your hospital bed. 

“How are the boys doing?” you asked, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand gently when he slipped his hand into yours. 

It had been a day since you woke up, but three days since you had been admitted to the hospital, Hawks being one of the only people you had seen, including the doctors and your bedside nurses. 

“Well, they miss you that’s for sure,” he smiles and you offer one back. “Are they injured? I wasn’t able to check up on them before I—well, you know,” you try, but Hawks shifts your thoughts away when he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Yuto just has a sprained wing and Kazuto’s a little bruised, but they’re being cared at, at the number one’s house,” your eyes widened, “Endeavor’s?” 

“Well, technically, Fuyumi is watching over them,” Hawks continues and you relax once again with a smile, “Fuyumi has always been good with kids. They must be having a good time with her.” 

“And Miyako? How is she?”

“She’s cute and small and has these cute grey fuzzy wings on her back,” Hawks says with a small giggle, “her nurse says she’s doing just fine and should be able to go home in a few weeks. They still want her to cook a bit in the incubator.” 

You smile at him before closing your eyes and resting back on your pillow with a relieved sigh, “I’m glad that they’re all okay. I miss them so much.”

Hawks brings a hand to your cheek and you open your eyes to look up at him, nuzzling into his warm and large palm, “What’s wrong, honey?” 

“I just feel like this is all my fault,” he starts, bringing his hand back as his gaze drops down to his lap, “I should’ve never asked to bring you and the boys out into the public. It was selfish of me, you guys would’ve been safer and this would’ve never happened.” 

“Keigo, it’s not your fault,” you say, placing a hand on his cheek, but your movement was restricted due to the IV needle in your arm. Hawks brings your hand down to your lap, opting to hold it in his larger ones instead. 

“We didn’t know this would’ve happened, plus it was just a crazy fan! Instead of you being mad, I should be mad because someone thinks they love you more than how much I love you!” you exclaim and Hawks couldn’t help the small smile on his lips. 

“Trust in yourself,” motioning him closer, you pressing a kiss onto his lips before a teasing smile formed on your lips “I love you more than you can ever imagine, you dumb bird.” 

And Hawks tucked your words into his heart and decided to trust himself on his next bizarre idea—visiting that crazy fan of his in prison.

Sitting in the cool, metal chair, Hawks waited patiently in front of the barrier for the guards to bring out his so called, number one fan—the person who tried to take out his whole family. 

It wasn’t until she came into view and noticed him that her eyes seemed to light up in shock and joy. Throwing herself on the chair, she grabbed the phone as fast as she could, bringing it up to her ear. Hawks doing the same.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you! You came! You really came to see me!” she cried, and Hawks did not give her a spec of emotion. 

“I’m only here to tell you a few things,” he started and she nodded excitedly. “You are a fan of mine and I adore and cherish my fans,” Hawks states, her cheeks turning rosy at his words. “I would expect you to do something as simple as respect me as a person, as a pro hero, and to respect my family—my wife and my kids.”

“I only did what I did because I love you!” she shot back and Hawks glared her down with his sharp eyes, “and because of that, I’m disappointing that you even have the nerve to call yourself my fan. I’ve blacklisted you from attending any of my fan meets or events.”

Her eyes widened before she began to shake her head in disbelief, “No, no, no...You don’t mean that! Hawks no!”

“But I doubt you’d be leaving prison anytime soon for attempted murder on three cases,” He shoots back, her sobs and wails audible through the thick barrier between them.

“But I love you!” she cries desperately, “don’t do this!”

Hanging up the phone, Hawks turned around as the wails from the unfortunate girl filled the air behind him, leaving him feeling lighter than ever.

And it seemed as if things continued to get better from thereon. 

You sat in your hospital bed excited yet nervously as the nurse carefully transported Miyako into your arms for the first time. As the infant shifted around in discomfort, you gently cooed at her, Miyako recognizing your voice. 

“Miyako, it’s mama. I’m sorry it took us so long to finally meet,” you say with a large smile as she turned to face you—her poofy and fuzzy wings resting over your arms warmly.

Hawks watched in adoration of the sight of his two favorite girls finally together in each other’s arms. Miyako no longer needed any medical assistance and you, finally bandaged and needle free. 

“Miyako’s been doing perfectly fine without any of the medical equipment and should be able to go home in the next few days,” your nurse says and your head shoots over towards Hawks’ excitedly. 

“Honey, honey,” you chirp, “We can finally go home in a few days!”

Hawks couldn’t help the chuckle and smile that formed on his lips, especially from how excited you were. You had been in this hospital for nearly a month now and eager to see your boys and to finally be home. 

Leaning over, Hawks pressed a warm kiss onto your lips before running his finger over Miyako’s plump cheeks. 

“I can’t wait to have you home and in my arms again.” 

And did that day finally come. 

You and Hawks made your way around the hospital with Miyako sound asleep in a stroller, thanking all the doctors and nurses for their help. 

And to your surprise, Kazuto, Yuto and Fuyumi were at the main doors waiting for the three of you. 

“Mama!” they cried before taking off towards you. Yuto wrapped his small arms around your legs as Kazuto, who was just a bit taller, wrapped his arms around your waist gently, pressing his face into your side. 

“My boys, I missed you both so much,” you cried, pressing kisses all over their faces, seeing them light up with joy after being separated for so long. 

“Would you like to see your little sister?” You ask with a curious smile, watching them suddenly turn timid, but slowly, they made their way to the stroller and found a little baby girl sleeping comfortably.

“She’s so small,” Kazuto notes, glancing back up at you with his proud big brother smile. “Hi, Miyako. You’re so cute,” Yuto giggles, watching her stir.

You couldn’t help but lean into Hawks at the sight. Everything was right. Even when you finally had the energy to check your phone, you were surprised to see how all the support from friends, family, and fans alike.

“The agency called and said we have like a million gifts from the fans to pick up. A lot of them are ‘get well’ gifts for you and the boys and some are baby gifts for Miya,” Hawks states with a smile and you tilt your head at him teasingly. 

“Miya? You already gave her a nickname?” you tease and he couldn’t help but look away with a blush which made you laugh. “Well, Miya is going to have the best papa bird and brother birds in the world.” 

But the feeling of being at home, away from the world and just with your family topped everything else. 

You were in Hawks’ arms, resting comfortably and watching as your two young boys watched Miyako in awe, commenting about how cute she was or how cute her small grey wings were every minute. 

“Keigo, I’m so happy,” you state, leaning into his body more as you let out a content sigh. “Thank you for everything,” glancing up, his gold eyes were already on you before the two of you connected with a kiss.

“I should be saying that to you, dove. You’ve given me a whole family to love.”

And for all the bad that had happened, being able to rest in the love of your life’s arms with your newly expanded family, seemed to wash all of that away.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

collab masterlist

✧ pairing: villain!hawks x afab!reader

✧ word count: 5k

✧ warnings: this is like all smut, angst, ambiguous but happy ending, unhealthy relationships, mentions of transactional sex, reader has a healing quirk but it's really just for poetic purposes, reader has a vagina, no other gendered parts, oral sex (reader receiving), vague metaphorical drug reference, mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mating press, soft sex (?), sorta, slight potential could be read as dubcon but they're both into it

✧ summary: for years you've stitched hawks back together when the world has torn him to shreds—and he always pays you back, though you can't help but start want more than he can give you.

✧ a/n: hey y'all this months theme was villain/hero swap with a shared opener! please go check out all the other wonderful works in this collab, there are so many talented writers/artists involved!! credit to @/lady-bakuhoe for the amazing intro. also bonus points if you catch the old aesthetic tumblr post references.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

***

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

That fact is made even more horrifically apparent as he stumbles through your open window—and how long has it been since you’ve slept with it closed?—dripping with blood and panting from his flight.

The T.V. blares in the background, filling your tiny apartment with incessant ramblings that only grow louder by the day, and you already know what they’re going to say before they say it. Because you see him, before the reporters stumble upon heroes in the wreckage—you see what they do to him before they’re warning the public of dangerous villains loose in the streets.

They spout off about failing heroes but you think they’ve done a pretty damn good butchers job. Red feathers matted together, sticky and brown, fall in tufts from his back. You burn with shameful jealousy at the thought of those who would call themselves heroes having laid hands on what is yours.

He isn’t really yours and you know that, though you often wish you could be a bit more delusional. It might not hurt so much then.

They call him a villain. They call him a threat to society.

But even faced with the truth spilling from him and onto your creaking floors, it is easy to forget what a ruthless predator the man before you becomes when he leaves these four walls.

Especially as he falls forward on heavy feet straight into your arms, outstretched and waiting. There are stains on your shirt but you’ve known the secret for getting blood out of clothing for years now. Cold water for the fabric, warm to wash away the grime on his lovely skin.

“Gonna need you to fix me up again, sweetheart,” Hawks mumbles into your shoulder where his forehead rests.

His breathing is even more ragged now, not just from the flight.

“I know,” you reply and your hands shake when they find the gaping wound at his side—wide and deeper than the ones before. “I know. Can you walk?”

He doesn’t respond but that mop of golden hair shifts a bit as he slings an arm over your shoulder and rests his weight. You don’t need to direct him to your bedroom. This is an old game you’re playing and he knows the steps.

So do you.

Though, you’re never sure if it's dread that fills you and makes your stomach knot and your knees weak. Or if it’s that awful, momentary rush of excitement at the prospect of being able to run your fingers over him, bare and giving you free reign.

As long as he’s bleeding out on your floor.

Then you can feel him.

When he’s dying and needs you.

Needs you to fix him.

But won’t ever let you close enough to finish the job the way you want to.

You comfort yourself in with the knowledge that at least he lets you this close. At least those thin, silver-skin scars are the unmistakable mark of your healing hands. At least you’ll always haunt him like the red feather down that sticks to your pillows or between your floorboards.

So you strip him carefully and try not to let his sculpted chest distract you from the work. Hawks is silent, such a model patient as always. Only grunting when your fingers move to knit together the ragged edges of his flesh.

This will leave a nasty mark, you know it already. But you can’t find it in yourself to mourn the loss of that lovely skin.

It will only make it harder for him to forget you.

You’re knelt beside him, laid out on a towel you keep at the edge of the bed. Blood will soak through to the sheets regardless, but you try your best. He takes a sharp breath, white teeth catching the back of his hand between them to stifle groans.

You wish there was more pleasure to it. That he was biting back moans for you instead of trying not to scream as his flesh pulsed and grew hot while it was rebuilt under your fingertips. So you indulge, pretend your hands are elsewhere, roaming his perfect waistline and pulling whimpers from him.

Your dangerous, villainous, predator Hawks sprawled on his back, wings spread and cumming onto his chest under you.

The sounds above you change, and you know it hurts—must be excruciating as bone is set back into place—but you chose to believe it’s because he’s trying to keep himself from screaming your name as he reaches his release.

Hawks, you’d croon to him—Hawks because you don’t know his real name. Don’t know who he was before he started this underground life of crime on the fringes of a society that called him a monster and then turned him into one.

He isn’t a monster in your bed, though he may cry like one.

Cry as you mold his flesh and try not to look him in the face. Try to pretend they are an overflow of some better emotion. And when those summer wheat field eyes roll back in his head and those horrible pretty noises stop, you push past the growing ache in your limbs until the skin under your palms is smooth and no longer leaking thick, red blood.

And you do your best to resist the itch to feel more of him while he can’t stop you. Even with your fingers numb from overexertion, you can’t help but fall back on your heels and long for the feeling of his cheek in your hand, or his chest on your face.

But your part of the transaction is done.

And your permission doesn’t extend past these limits.

And it pains you to wish harm on him.

But it hurts even more when he does not need you.

So you sit and hate yourself and hope that those heroes with their disgusting philosophies get their shit together just a bit more. So you won’t lose your purpose. So he’ll keep coming through your window, permanently open through rainstorms and snow and spring heat.

Hawks’ breath evens slowly, and you stay still as a watched painting—no shifting eyes or moving limbs.

You crave these times like water or warm food—constant and instinctively.

And this is the only time you’ll ever have them, hands so filled with pinpricks of fried nerves that you can barely feel the soft, relaxed muscle beneath them.

What a tragedy.

What an injustice—

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

***

“Hmm,” he groans, sitting up and wincing as the new flesh protests under his movements.

“You should rest for a bit longer.”

Hawks looks at you, stretched next to him on the mattress—a purposeful few inches of space left between your bodies. It’s both selfish and practical advice.

But he isn’t here for that kind of help.

“You know I can’t just be sittin’ on my ass,” he quips, flashing you that eyes closed, wide smirk that sets your heart hammering in your chest. “Can’t have anyone tracing me back here.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you don’t find it in yourself to give the words any bite, “but you were just actively bleeding out a few minutes ago.”

“Sure, but that was a few minutes ago,” he winks and you can already feel the bed shifting as he moves to settle himself over your hips, one toned thigh on either side to bracket you against the bed. “Now, let me pay you back for all that hard work, yeah sweetheart?”

You wish the way he peered up through those long lashes, gold eyes honed in on you like a piece of meat on a hook, didn’t make your face burn this much.

It doesn’t mean anything to him.

Because this arrangement really is transactional—so you have to get something out of it too. At least, that’s what he tells himself, you think. He doesn’t know that those scant few moments you hold his life between your fingers is more than enough payment.

It’s been this way since the very first time you stumbled across him, half dead in an alley. But then you think it might have just been a ‘heat of the moment’ sort of thing that had just stuck.

You heal him and he makes you writhe on the sheets with his tongue and his hands, until you're fucked into unconscious bliss and he can slip away without your prying eyes watching him go.

But you still aren’t allowed to touch Hawks, even when he reaches into those deep parts of you and molds them to fit only him.

“You don’t—” you start to protest, partly because you want to believe you don’t want it and partly because you want to hear him insist that he does.

“Shh,” Hawks presses a calloused finger to your mouth and it takes every ounce of strength not to suck it past your lips. “I don’t like leaving my debts unpaid.”

That’s the end of your determination for the night. So you try to relax into his touch as slides your bottoms off and tosses them to the floor. Try not to clench up under those fingers that spread your legs. He doesn’t like it when you squirm away, when you flinch from his hands.

You want to think it’s because he hopes you aren’t afraid of him—of what he is—like the rest are, and not because he wants to get it over with as quickly as possible.

You want to.

But he’s so hard to read, and your mind is not often a kind place.

“Mm, god I’m always so hungry after you patch me up baby,” Hawks licks his lips as he stares down at you. “You won’t mind if I eat you right?”

You cringe at how fast your head shakes.

“Mm, course you wouldn’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, and he’s right though you resent it a bit that he’s got you pegged so easily.

But you’re weak, you’re no villain, you’re no hero.

And so you’ll never be able to resist him. But, damn, did you wish you had a name to cry out. Then at the very least, you could keep a part of him with you too. Then you’d have some to moan on the nights he goes uninjured and you have to bring yourself to lonely release, only thinking of him.

Of those wings spread above you like a burning, red sunset, obscuring the rest of the world from view with his blinding light.

“Hawks…” you hiss instead as he shifts your legs over his shoulders and lays his tender chest on the sheets. “Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s it gonna be tonight then?” he asks, breath ghosting over the damp folds between your thighs.

“Thought you said you were gonna use your tongue,” you whine, impatient now for any scrap of attention he’s willing to give.

“If that’s what you want,” he presses a kiss into the crease of your leg and hip, nipping the delicate skin so you whine again. “It’s whatever you want, you know that.”

It isn’t though.

It’s not whatever you want.

You can pick the position, you can ask for his mouth or his fingers, but even then, they won’t go past your neck. Your hands must stay firmly knotted in the comforter and away from him while he works. Cause he is working. This is part of the job to him, it's only in your fantasies that he’s doing it simply for the hell of it.

Hawks nudges your embarrassingly soaked slit with his nose and hums at you, “So is that what you want? Want me to eat your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Yes—ngh,” you don’t get much in past the confirmation.

He’s a busy man.

He doesn’t have time for your stupid, romantic day dreams.

So he dives right in, and it’s enthusiastic enough that you can convince yourself he simply wants you that badly.

Hawks tongue licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and sucks the little bud past his plush lips. They’re a lovely, soft pink against your skin and they make a mess of you in seconds. He starts up an even rhythm, drawing circles into the nerves that sing and have heat building up in you only seconds after he’s started.

You hate that you love how well he knows your body.

You hate that you only know his when it’s shutting down.

“You taste so good, you know that?” he mumbles, lapping at you and kneading your thighs. “Could live down here just drinking you every fucking day.”

He doesn’t always talk like that but you’re happy he is now. It distracts you from the deep, ingrained urge to yank him by the hair and taste yourself on his lips.

“Makes me wish I’d let those damn heroes get hits in more often,” he’s back to panting and you keen at the sound. “Want my fingers too?”

“Fuck yes,” you don’t even bother hiding the desperation anymore.

He deserves the boost to his ego. You’d shower him with praise if he’d let you, bathe him in warm words and press them into his skin with your tongue.

But he doesn’t let you.

Hawks’ hand on your thigh trails slowly against the sensitive skin until he’s pulling back to run his fingers through your folds to ease the stretch a bit as he pushes two inside. He knows you can take what he gives to you, knows you love the way he fills you up.

Your tingling hands ache to grab his head and force his lips back as he sits for a moment, eyes glued on the space where his fingers disappear into your body. He groans low at the wet sounds your bodies make at their joining. Your legs shake where they rest on him, the one other point of contact he’s allowed. Those deadly soft feathers brush your calves as he curls his fingers up and waits expectantly for the strangled cry he pulls from you.

“There it is,” his voice is so much lower when he speaks now. “Can’t exactly show you the real ones, but how ‘bout you let me make you see some stars, huh?”

He asks so much of you. So much. So often.

In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever actively asked him for a thing he hadn’t already offered in the few years you’d known him. Hawks does it all—the taking and the giving and the demanding.

And you’re simply along for the ride, holding on for dear life lest he drop you, let you plummet like rock to the barren ground.

Still, you are mortal and you crave and you will take what you can get.

“Mhm,” you whimper when his deft fingers increase their pace, not thrusting but grinding mercilessly into that delicious spot inside.

“You wanna cum now, sweet thing?”

Then, true to his villainous nature, Hawks latches his lips back onto your clit, wracking your body with waves of truly sinful pleasure. His tongue draws quick, perfect circles across the bud just how you like. You’ll never know why it feels so much better when it’s him touching you.

How he knows exactly what you want.

Most of it.

Then his other hand is reaching around your hip, thumb taking over to press down where his tongue had been. Panting for the third time, his gorgeous head rests on your thigh and he stares dead on into your eyes. That predator yellow gaze pins you to the pillows better than any hand could and he licks across his lips while you watch, moaning as he tastes you there.

You groan deep and unabashedly at the sight.

“What is it?” he’s teasing you, unable to keep that part of his cruelty hidden even now. “What do you want?”

You shake your head and wish you could turn away, flop against the mattress and writhe but you can’t. You just can’t give up this moment that’s etching itself into your retinas—like you’re staring head on at an eclipse, celestial and short-lived.

“Tell me,” Hawks whispers, nipping at your thigh and working his fingers harder on you. “Whatever you want, you’ll get it.”

And maybe it’s the sudden heat of the room, or the little breeze from his wings spreading defensively to block you from view of his nonexistent audience—the outside world maybe? To keep you, this secret indulgence, hidden from their prying hands. Or quite possibly it’s just your own weakness at the feet of years and years of loving—because you do, you love him, it’s clear by now that’s what this is—this man whose name you don’t know and whose eyes never seem to leave you even when he’s gone.

Maybe you simply crack under the pressure of keeping this awful, looming silence for too long.

You feel your lips split at the seams and it all comes rushing out in a polluted flood—a stagnant river of secrets.

“Let me touch you,” you gasp and close your eyes then just so you won’t have to see that grin slip from his beautiful face. “Please Hawks, let me touch you. I can’t do it anymore, just—I need to kiss you, I need more.”

All this time he hadn’t let up on pulling pleasure from your skin, but he stops now, bringing your release to a screaming halt.

The quiet that follows—devoid of fast breaths and wet slapping—is suffocating.

You wish you regretted the outburst, the waste of years worth of work to keep him coming back.

But you don’t.

Of course you will in a minute, when he slips away and doesn’t return.

But now it just feels as though that boulder of secrecy has been lifted off your chest and you can finally take in lungfuls of sweet, unhindered night air.

It’s only after that dreadful minute has passed and there are still hands on you—buried in you—that you dare to open your eyes again.

Hawks is staring blankly, an expression you’ve never seen before, so stark from the usual quirk of his lips and tilt of his chin. Blank, but calculating. You can see the gears clanking as his thoughts rush a mile a minute, faster than he’d ever dream of soaring over the city skyline.

He blinks once, twice, then again and you can see the redness blooming at the corners as his eyes grow glassy between each flutter of lashes. And then, as though moving through honey, he draws back from you, only to crawl up your body until your noses touch.

You hold your breath, lip caught between your teeth, but his slicked thumb comes up to pull it out of your gnawing reach. He strokes across the puffy skin, never meeting your gaze, until he slowly, slowly leans down.

It’s not really a kiss, more of an accidental brush, so little of your lips touch you could easily have imagined it. When he speaks again, you can feel him forming the words against you.

“I—” he starts and licks his lips and yours and you don’t think it’s an accident, “I can’t.”

It isn’t what you want him to say, but it’s better than a silent loss .

You know truth when you hear it.

“I know.”

And you do, you do know, you’ve always known. He’s darker when he’s not with you. You’ve seen the carnage he leaves behind broadcasted on screens, but it’s never stopped the ache before.

He can’t keep you the way you want, can’t have things that get in the way.

You can only touch him when he’s dying. You can heal him, reform his flesh and bone—pull him back from the brink—but you’ll never feel his chest against yours or his hair slipping through your fingers or have all of him buried inside you. He’ll never love you like you want him to.

It doesn’t stop you from wishing.

And apparently, it doesn’t stop Hawks from kissing you anyway.

“I can’t,” he repeats and it sounds so broken you almost think that wound has reopened and he’s going to start slipping away again.

But the only thing that slips is his tongue past your lips and tangling with your own.

And then the levee breaks.

It’s a sudden torrent of hands and legs knotting together like the torn edges of too many injuries. Hawks covers every available part of you like an addict seeking his fix. It’s breathless and uncoordinated but you’ve never felt more alive, alight, aflame.

He presses his lips to yours again, pulling away and then diving back in. Frantic hands pull you off the mattress until your back is against the headboard and he’s straddling your lap. You take the opportunity to sink your fingers into that goldenrod hair and it’s just as silky as you’d imagined it to be.

Hawks moans into your mouth, kissing you wildly, like the beast he is with teeth clacking and your tongue sucked between his lips.

“I can’t,” he keeps mumbling, between groans and hips grinding and hands grabbing, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t— “

You wonder then which one of you he’s trying to convince.

But you don’t ask, just let your hands wander to the delicious curve of his ass on your thighs and squeeze, rolling his bulge against you. His fingers push and proud, ghosting across your chest and stopping to pinch your nipple. He drinks down the whimpers you let out, letting his lips wander your jaw and throat, sucking bruises—leaving his own scars on you—as he goes. He pushes you back down to the pillows so his lips can continue their work, latching onto the quickly hardening bud and suckling lightly. His groan sends little shockwaves through you and he looks up with brows furrowed like he’s in pain with how good it all feels.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s so soft you barely hear it between licks at your chest.

“No,” you finally find it in you to respond, shaking your head and pulling him back to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says again while you nip at his earlobe and down his jaw, tight pants yielding under your hands as they’re tugged away so he’s just as bare as you.

“No,” you shake your head and any response dies on his tongue as you dig your fingers into the feathers at the base of his wings and pull him forward.

Hawks lets out a choked gasp as his length, bare, hard, and leaking glides across your cunt. Any other time, you’d have liked to savor this moment. Get on your knees and worship his pretty cock—and you know it's pretty, just from your short glimpse. He’s long and perfectly thick, just how you dreamed he would be. The cute tuft of blond curls at his base is course in the best way as you trail your fingers through it to take him in your palm.

“Ahh,” he keens, arching above you with his head thrown back as you stroke him for the first time.

It’s been so long, you're not sure how you ever resisted this before. Not with how heavy and warm he is in your fist.

“Hawks,” you moan, sucking at the dip in his collarbone and moving to bite at his nipple. “Hawks, please.”

“I—” you think he might protest but you flick your thumb over the tip and it pours precum to help the slide of your fingers.

He’s already got those powerful arms hooked under your knees, all he has to do is lean forward and sink into that tight, awaiting heat, and he knows it. You can see the resolve cracking.

“Hawks,” you beg again. Because you are begging, that’s what this is.

And he looks at you, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and brows all bunched up with his head shaking.

“Hawks.”

His hands grip the underside of your thighs and knock your hand from his dick.

“Hawks.”

His forehead comes down to rest against yours, eyes squeezed shut and red at the edges. You feel the sting at the corners as if they were your own.

“Hawks.”

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

Is he dying now?

Are you killing him?

“Hawks.”

His breath hitches, whatever he might have said is long gone when the head of his cock catches against your entrance.

“Hawks—”

He sinks in to the hilt all at once and the last utterance of his name is a yelp. Your walls clamp down hard around the intrusion, so much bigger than his fingers, so hot and long and thick as he pulses inside you.

There are no words after that.

No names, no refusals, just his face pressed up on yours as he pushes your thighs to your chest and rolls his hips, fucking you evenly into the mattress.

Not soft or slow or overly rough.

Though it is all of those things at once as well.

Hawks has always been full of contradictions. It makes sense that this is too.

Both your eyes stay open, lips brushing and sharing breath as he slips a hand back down to your clit and starts those perfect circles up again.

He doesn’t ask you questions now. Just stares in your eyes and sinks his cock into your over and over until you feel fuller, more complete than you ever have in the whole of your life.

There’s no warning leading up to the end. You feel the crest approaching, the coil waiting to snap low in your belly and you don’t dare take your eyes off his face. You need to commit the entirety of this moment to memory. Just in case.

Just in case it never happens again.

Or worse, it happens over and over until it doesn’t.

Until you run out of chances to touch him.

Until he comes to you too far gone.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and that’s all the warning you get.

All the warning you have the strength to listen to as you tumble over the edge, waves of rolling pleasure burning under your skin. You clench hard around his cock as his hips stutter in their pace, thrusting unevenly as you gush and he spills rope after rope of hot release deep into you.

And you’d been wrong before, because this was full. This was whole, your stilling bodies pressed together at every point with his cock still hard and twitching as your walls milked him of cum that warmed you from the inside out.

This is what you would die for.

***

Later when you stumble into unwilling wakefulness, there are hands tucking a thin sheet over your bare skin.

Hawks has pulled himself from you after resting like you’d told him he should. He’s dressing, though not hurriedly, and you can’t find it in your jelly bones to move or stop him.

You’re both silent, even when he looks down to find your eyes alert and raking over him—costume donned and wings prepared for flight.

His face is drawn in a way that might have been resentment. Maybe towards you for breaking his resolve, maybe at himself for indulging in what he cannot have.

I can’t.

You hear the words as clear as though he’d just said them.

I can’t.

Can’t have you. Can’t forget his purpose. Can’t have gentle things.

Hawks is a villain, first and foremost, above all else and that includes you.

So you don’t move to stop him as he walks softly through your door. You just watch as he makes his way to the open window and perches on the ledge. He does look back, only briefly, to see you draped across the sheets, head resting on your arm and staring at him as he leaves you.

The ghost of that cheeky grin crawls its way onto his face before he tips backwards off the landing and into the night sky. He winks once before the indigo of the night swallows him like the maw of a leviathan. The city has teeth and it will chew him up and spit him back out into your arms soon enough.

So you’re content to wait.

You know this isn’t the last time. That he’ll come back to you as he’s always done. And offer you more and more of himself each time.

Because you can only touch him when he’s dying.

And this world is nothing if not determined to kill him.

So you can keep your purpose.

And by extension, you can keep him.

[phoenixyfriend]

Quinlan and the Interdimensional Ingenues (except not really)

Context: SW Suddenly Omegaverse AU (Original Post), Interior Design (Nesting Divots), Chrono Rating: T+ Relationships: Anakin & Obi-Wan, Quinlan/Obi-Wan

This is like 90% cuddles and scenting that’s a few steps to the side of a/b/o standard. There is a lot of non-sexual licking. It’s a little odd, but I’m assuming that’s what you’re here for. It’s also over 5k words, so, you know. There’s that.

Note: “Ternary” is to the number three as “binary” is to the number two. Binary gender/sex refers to IRL male/female distinctions, and ternary refers to alpha/beta/omega. Gender and sex are much more complicated than is touched on in this particular fic, and trans identities exist within both the binary system and the ternary system. (More notes at end.)

-----

“Sorry to tell you this,” Quinlan says, sliding into the room as quickly as he can, “but we can smell omega distress from several rooms down the hall. What the hell is going on?”

“We’ve having a lot of feelings,” Kenobi says drily. He’s on the couch, looking damnably normal, and Skywalker’s got his face shoved into his master’s neck. Kenobi’s fingers card through the curls, and it’s... well, it would be easy to tell which of them was having said feelings even if Quinlan hadn’t already been able to tell them apart in scent.

“I’m distraught,” Skywalker moans, mushing himself somehow closer.

Kenobi’s eyes go to the ceiling, and he visibly prays to the Force for patience. “I know, Anakin.”

“You think I’m being dumb.”

“I think you’ve had a few months to prepare for this, but that your reaction is understandable nevertheless,” Kenobi says carefully. “Quinlan, would you like to take a seat?”

He hops the back of an armchair in a way that earns him a long-suffering, fond sigh. Quinlan grins encouragingly. “So, do I get to know what this is about?”

“I’m having trouble keeping it out of the Force, but at least I can do that,” Skywalker mutters. He does not lift his head. “I can’t control the scent stuff.”

“Yeah,” Quinlan says, because he’s not sure what else to say. “Do you want me to go get Tano? Might make you feel better.”

Skywalker just whines, high and pained, and tries to curl impossibly closer to Kenobi.

“Anakin,” Kenobi tries. “Anakin, do you want me to explain?”

“I want my--” Skywalker cuts himself off with a choking noise, and then keens. It’s a very omega noise, in the sense that his vocal cords can make it, and non-omegas have trouble mimicking it, and it makes Quinlan want to go over and do his best to fix things in whatever way he can.

(This, everyone is finding, is the truly awkward element to having Skywalker and Kenobi around. They don’t have any experience with controlling their ternary sex instincts, and it makes everyone else react poorly when they do, well, almost anything. They can’t be blamed, considering exactly how inconvenient this is for them, as well, but it’s not a great time for anyone.)

Quinlan tries to keep his own scent pleasant and calm, as soothing as he can make it through the blockers. He doesn’t think it works. “Your what?”

“His wife,” Kenobi says. “Because apparently that was the other way he broke the Code.”

“I looked her up,” Skywalker moans, dramatic as anyone. “She’s already mated and married, in this timeline. To that artist. She’s totally happy and she’s never met me and I’m never gonna be able to work with or around her because I won’t be able to act normal about it and I miss her.”

‘A lot of feelings‘ Kenobi mouths at Quinlan over Skywalker’s head.

“Well, at least it explains the position you’re in,” Quinlan tries to joke. The blank look he gets from Kenobi tells him clearly that the joke didn’t land. “Uh, scenting at the neck like that.”

“Inappropriate?” Kenobi hazards a guess. He doesn’t pull Skywalker away.

“Sort of,” Quinlan says. “You’re family, or as good as, so between that and the need for comfort, nobody’s really going to judge you for it, especially given your backgrounds, but that kind of prolonged neck-scenting for comfort is something kids outgrow in pre-adolescence. It’s only really used for either comfort for extreme emotions, like this, or, uh, between lovers. Post-coital, or during foreplay before, you know, mouths get involved.”

Kenobi grimaces. “Lovely. And what do you mean by ‘of our backgrounds’ in this case? That we have less control, or another factor?”

He doesn’t sound offended. Quinlan appreciates that. “You didn’t have ten years to get that comfort. It’s like... touch starvation, but for scenting. Anyone who knows what’s going on with you, even in the vague sense that doesn’t involve dimensional travel, is going to give you leeway on scenting because you didn’t have that, growing up.”

Kenobi’s grimace doesn’t go away until Skywalker’s breath hitches, hand curling in his master’s robes. “Anakin?”

“I don’t like feeling like this,” Skywalker mutters. “It sucks.”

“I know.”

“And we can’t delay the war much longer, and she was one of the only reasons I stayed even kinda sane through it.”

“I know, Anakin,” Kenobi sighs, running a hand through Skywalker’s hair and, awkwardly as anything, pressing a small kiss to the young man’s forehead. “You’ll have other ways to de-stress this time around. Maybe you’ll actually attend your meditative retreats.”

Skywalker huffs out a breath, in a laugh wet with what might be burgeoning tears. “Shut up.”

“I think you’ve known me far too long to think I’ll ever run out of words,” Kenobi says. He meets Quinlan’s eyes again, but before either of them can communicate about whether Quinlan should leave, Skywalker lurches to his feet, muttering something about a shower.

He’s gone before Kenobi can get more than two words out, and the man is left looking ruffled and confused by his former padawan’s sudden departure. He stays watching the door, and slowly wilts in a way that doesn’t speak well for his state of mind. The man sighs and drops his head into his hands, cradling it with his elbows on his knees, and whatever calm he’d had fades into pure stress, the air curdling with the smell of it.

Quinlan waits, unsure of how to handle this; Kenobi’s Quinlan Vos probably would have known how to deal with the change.

“What am I doing?” Kenobi breathes out, the words almost inaudible from behind his hands.

There are a few moments for Quinlan to consider the many complications and ramifications of getting involved, and then he decides to do so anyway. He stands up and steps around the caff table, and sits down next to Kenobi. He wraps an arm around the man’s shoulders, and brings him in close.

“You don’t have to do this,” Kenobi says, though he makes no move to pull away. “I know you don’t... this is just an obligation. The Council assigned you to gather information and keep an eye out for us in terms of the whole omega thing, since you already shared my heat, and... I know I’m not a friend to you. You barely know me, and the fact that you have to look out for me is something that truly grates. Such care shouldn’t...”

Quinlan waits for him to finish, but he doesn’t.

“I won’t say that they didn’t give me that assignment, because that would be a lie and you’d know it,” Quinlan says. “But I do want to be friends with you. We’re sort of there, already, even if that’s mostly you knowing my other self, and my psychometry, but I’ve seen what a friendship with you could be like, in what you let me see. We’ll never have that same dynamic, because I didn’t grow up with you, and the ternary sex adds an element that changes things, but I do want to be your friend.”

He hesitates, unsure if the rest will make things worse or better, but says it anyway. “As for taking care of you, looking out for you... I do feel a need to do that on an instinctual level, yes, but I can ignore it. It’s an instinct, but one that I, like everyone else that’s grown up as a human or near human in this galaxy, can work around. I am doing more than the minimum the Council requested, and it’s because I do actually like you as a person, and want to know you better.”

Kenobi’s head is resting on his shoulder by this point, tired and heavy, and Quinlan reaches up to brush his knuckles against the beard without looking. His blockers are still keeping his scent down, but the contact seems to make Kenobi relax more. His hands are mostly laced together, and falling into the dip between their legs.

“There’s a way I can help, but it’s, ah... not inherently sexual in nature, but generally only done by those whose relationship is already some degree of sexual,” Quinlan tells him. “To make you feel better, less stressed.”

“I’m assuming you’re not suggesting an orgasm,” Kenobi mutters, dry as anything. He laughs when Quinlan puts a hand on his knee.

“Not exactly feeling it,” Quinlan agrees. He squeezes Kenobi’s knee, and then says, “No, it’s mostly scenting in a way that’s usually only done by lovers; it’s more effective, but very intimate in a way many find uncomfortably sexual, because the amount of tongue involved is very reminiscent of foreplay.”

Kenobi laughs, a little harder, and nuzzles a little. He doesn’t seem aware of the fact that he’s doing it. “Alright, then.”

“I’d also suggest moving to one of the nests,” Quinlan says, and Kenobi immediately freezes. He gives it a moment, and then says, “I know you found it helpful after your heat, Kenobi. The nesting instinct is human here. It’s not shameful. There are people who don’t get anything out of it, but I’ve seen you nesting, and it’s good for you.”

Kenobi shudders and Quinlan thinks he might be fighting down a whine. “It’s a change, Quin. I mean, Quinlan. It’s... it’s just another thing out of many that’s different.”

“And one of the few you have control over?” Quinlan guesses. He tries to purr for support when Kenobi nods against his shoulder, and he thinks the deep rumble is soothing to Kenobi. “I get that.”

“Don’t stop,” Kenobi mutters, and Quinlan can guess he’s blushing about it.

“Into the nest,” Quinlan mutters. “It’ll help convince Skywalker to use it, and he really needs that kind of comfort.”

That’s the line of logic that actually works, and Quinlan isn’t the least bit surprised.

“Fine,” Kenobi sighs, and gets to his feet before Quinlan can offer to carry him or something similarly joking. The man walks to the communal nest at the edge of the room, and then looks down into the barely-used mess of blankets and pillows in the floor divot like he doesn’t even know how to get in.

Quinlan thinks there might be dust, even.

Fine. He can work with that. He’s taken this duo on as a project of his own free will, and he’s damn well going to follow through.

“Want to rearrange it?” he asks, in hopes that he can prompt Kenobi into figuring out what’s wrong.

“I don’t... know,” Kenobi says, frowning in a way that’s more worried and uncomfortable than angry. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Quinlan considers it, thinks of how the dust means nobody’s been here, that there’s not even a hint of scent, and then turns and grabs the throw pillows and thick, woven blanket from the couch.

“Wait,” Kenobi protests. “They don’t--”

“We can put them back later,” Quinlan assures him. He holds them out to Kenobi. “Trust me? I may not be an omega, but I do know enough of the theory.”

Kenobi takes the pillows and the blanket, stares down at them and then at the nest, and steps out of his slippers and into the nest. The layer already there is thin, and likely not doing much for anyone, but it’s the bare minimum and Quinlan can work with that.

He turns and scouts the room for spare fabrics, grabs all three of the outer robes from where they hang by the door, and the recently-used dishtowel that only barely carries Skywalker’s scent, and brings them to Kenobi.

“The robes aren’t clean!” Kenobi protests.

“I could grab something from your room instead,” Quinlan says. “Or you could just leave the hems on the outside. But you need more fabric that actually smells like someone.”

Quinlan wonders, idly, if Kenobi would have this kind of reaction to the suggestion without omega instincts at play, or if it’s just the instincts and he doesn’t realize, or maybe that he’s decided to let the instincts happen since Quinlan’s pushed him into nesting already anyway. The man had insisted in perfectly pressing his robes from the beginning, long before their bodies had had a chance to change, and Skywalker had found it normal, so it’s probably, at least a little, just the man’s personality. It probably doesn’t matter, overall, because all Quinlan has to do is sit at the edge of the nest until Kenobi--the person who actually lives here--is done arranging things.

Quinlan takes off another two layers and offers them, noting out loud that he can get them back later when Skywalker can fill in the gaps or something before too many protests can be voiced. Kenobi hesitantly takes them and tucks them in among his own additional layers. Quinlan’s seen enough communal nests to know that most of the placements are odd and not going to work out long-term, but that’s not the point right now. The point is getting Kenobi to recognize the his body, and more importantly, his mental health, rely at least somewhat on nesting now.

“Are you going to come in?” Kenobi asks, belatedly realizing Quinlan’s still outside the lip of the flooring divot.

“Not without permission,” Quinlan says, and sees the realization flicker in.

Kenobi holds out a hand, silent, and Quinlan lets himself get tugged in among the half-stale, half-new nest. It’s not great, but that’ll come with practice. He tucks himself around Kenobi, and rubs at the man’s arms in an attempt to ease some of the tension that’s clinging to every line of his body.

“What now?” Kenobi asks, just a shade more quiet than Quinlan thinks is really required by the situation.

“A lot of the stress you’re feeling is a feedback loop from being covered in your own distress scent,” Quinlan says. “You can shower to handle that, which is what Skywalker is doing, or you can manually remove it.”

“I’d imagine a wet towel,” Kenobi says, a touch wry, “but given that you mentioned tongue earlier, I’m guessing you intend to lick it away?”

“It’s more effective,” Quinlan admits. “Not at removing the scent, necessarily, but it removes enough to help while also generating comfort and relaxation hormones from the close contact, and being scented by a trusted individual.”

“Makes sense,” Kenobi admits. “You, ah, use scent blockers usually, right? Can you, er, scent me?”

Quinlan can see just how much Kenobi dislikes using the words. He tries to keep it quick. “I use a cream blocker over my scent glands, namely at the neck and wrists, since the rest are covered in fabric. It’s... well, it can be wiped off, or also removed orally. Most manually-applied blockers are formulated to be safe for contact with the mouth or genitals. Only really gets to be a problem if there are rare allergies or with specific species. It doesn’t taste like anything, if that matters.”

Kenobi’s discomfort is almost palpable, but Quinlan lets him work through that. This isn’t really something he can make a choice for Kenobi about, and the discomfort is... well, it’s not really the kind of discomfort usually associated with ternary sex and associated behaviors. Everything’s just very new, and comes with changes to the body that Kenobi never agreed to.

“Right,” Kenobi says. “I want to... to at least try it, I think.”

He turns and blushes, eyes anywhere by Quinlan’s face. “I don’t know how much longer Anakin will be. I’d rather he not think we’re, er...”

“Then I’ll take care of that part fast,” Quinlan promises, and is rewarded by Kenobi offering a wrist.

It’s... not sexual. Quinlan knows he has a hard time explaining this to near-humans that don’t have the scent glands, that don’t have the ternary dynamics. He’s had a similarly hard time explaining it to Kenobi and Skywalker. It’s not sexual, just intimate, when he pulls Kenobi’s wrist to his face, closes his eyes, and breathes in the scent of a distressed, uncomfortable, bitter omega that he’s shared a heat with and knows as almost-friend. The smell, this close and this strong, triggers the production of pheromones of his own, and when he feels Kenobi tentatively start pressing kisses to Quinlan’s own wrist, he relaxes. He brushes his lips against Kenobi’s wrist, and then puts his open mouth to it, the slightest press of teeth and his tongue laving across the skin. He hears Kenobi’s gasp, an almost-yelp, and pulls away long enough to press a kiss the the veins under his lips, and to say, “Relax, Kenobi.”

He forces a purr out, low and rumbling, and feels it work on Kenobi just like it did earlier. There’s a tongue pulling, a little dry, to rub away the blocker on the inside of his wrist, and he turns his attention back to Kenobi’s. The scent is even stronger on his tongue, bitter and unhappy, and his body continues to produce calm and comfort as he pulls away the uglier feelings painted on Kenobi’s skin.

More pheromones leak under his mouth, but less bitter. Less intense. He does what he can, opens his eyes and turns and sees that Kenobi is unduly focused on his wrist, mouthing and not quite purring, but oddly fuzzy in the Force. His eyes are closed, but Quinlan’s pretty sure they’d be glazed if not.

“Kenobi?”

“Hm?”

“Guess you haven’t encountered this outside of a heat before,” Quinlan mutters. He shakes his arm a bit, and puts his other hand on Kenobi’s shoulder. “Kenobi, hey, look at me?”

Kenobi pulls away, blinking, and then makes a face. “That...”

“Didn’t like losing control?” Quinlan guesses. The answer is clear enough. “It’s a matter of practice, especially for you.”

“Why did I... it smelled and tasted like... like I was safe,” Kenobi mutters lowly, eyes on the nest instead of on Quinlan. “I’ve never associated any sense with safety other than the Force.”

“You trust me,” Quinlan says, as if that’s not a little terrifying in its own way. He already knew that Kenobi trusted him, but he thinks that this strong of a reaction might make him Kenobi’s most trusted person after Skywalker and maybe Tano. “And since you trust me, your body subconsciously takes cues from mine, when it comes to pheromones. I project comfort and safety, and your body takes it as... not fact, but affirmation.”

“So I won’t react to anyone like this,” Kenobi says, not quite begging for Quinlan to confirm, but close to it. “Just you, and... does that same logic apply to those who aren’t Alpha designation?”

“Yeah,” Quinlan says. “Not in the same way, but familiarity and trust does affect which pheromones affect you, and how strongly. Children are largely unresponsive to aggression pheromones from their parents, by default, since their minds process it as aggression in defense of them, rather than aggression at them.”

Kenobi purses his lips, but nods and looks at Quinlan’s other wrist. “Moving on?”

“If you’re okay with it,” Quinlan says, but he brings his cleaned wrist to Kenobi’s and rubs them together until his own comfort scent is covering up what’s left of the distress. “Take a smell at that and see how you feel.”

Kenobi eyes him warily--he’s pretty sure he hasn’t done anything to deserve that, but allows it because, well, Kenobi--and sniffs at his own wrist. His brow furrows in confusion, and he sniffs again.

“Good?” Quinlan hazards.

“I... yeah,” Kenobi says. He sounds as confused as he looks. “I like it. It’s... the safe thing, again, but mixing with me?”

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” Quinlan assures him. “Other wrist?”

If he were actually the friend that Kenobi had grown up with, if he’d actually had a Kenobi to grow up with, he thinks he might have thrown in a few joking pet names by now.

But he’s not, and they didn’t, so he won’t.

He thinks he hears Skywalker finish up in the shower, but Kenobi pulls his mouth to the neck, and mutters that they have some time while Skywalker does something to his hair. Apparently, there are products needed for those curls.

The angle’s going to be a little uncomfortable if they try to get at each other’s scent glands simultaneously, so Quinlan suggests that Kenobi handle getting the blocker off first.

“Why?”

“More convenient,” Quinlan says, and then clasps Kenobi’s hands so their wrists rub together. He squeezes, just a little, a touch of reassurance, and smiles and tilts his head. “All yours, Kenobi.”

The man smiles, brittle, and almost giggles. Maybe Quinlan was doing something oddly similar to his counterpart from Kenobi’s dimension. Maybe it was an inside joke he didn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because Kenobi’s leaning in and mouthing along Quinlan’s neck and throat like a man possessed a half-second later.

Quinlan closes his eyes and threads a hand into Kenobi’s hair, focuses on warmth and comfort and protection, rather than anything aroused. Kenobi slows down, lapping at Quinlan’s neck and inhaling, and in the Force he radiates confusion.

“That’s it,” Quinlan mutters, and Kenobi makes a low chirruping noise that he immediately stifles with an annoyed huff. “Hey, no, those are normal. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I want control over my own body, Quin,” Kenobi mutters, and switches to the other side. He rubs his face against Quinlan’s neck, and it’s another point on the list of things Kenobi does that he might not realize are based in newer instincts. “I don’t like something being wrong with me, and not understanding what it is.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Quinlan mutters, using the hand in Kenobi’s hair to guide him into actually removing the scent blocker instead of donating a case of beard burn. “Even going as fast as you did just now wasn’t something wrong. Your instincts got a bit confused, that’s all. You’re fine.”

He purrs until Kenobi is done, and gets that chirruping noise again. Kenobi’s still annoyed about it, but Quinlan’s just happy he’s getting less uncomfortable about it.

“Okay, sit up and turn around,” Quinlan says, and Kenobi eyes him again. “Have I steered you wrong yet?”

“No.”

“So trust me,” Quinlan urges. “Just turn around.”

Kenobi does. Quinlan sits up and rearranges his legs so there’s one on either side of Kenobi, half-bent. He pulls the other man closer, blankets folding oddly beneath them, and wraps his arms around Kenobi’s waist.

He breathes for a moment, chin hooked over Kenobi’s shoulder, and asks, “Good?”

“Oddly so, yes,” Kenobi mutters. He might be blushing. “Er, should I... do anything?”

“Hands on mine, if you’d like,” Quinlan tells him. “We can lie back down and spoon after I clean up your left.”

The noise Kenobi makes is low, affronted in a way that speaks to his ongoing embarrassment. Quinlan ignores it, just gets to work taking away as much of Kenobi’s stress scent as he can, mouthing along the man’s neck and managing a purr that isn’t even forced. It rumbles out of him unprompted, his hindbrain piecing together the relaxing omega in his lap and the safety of the Temple and the pride he’s got in doing this right, the knowledge that Kenobi’s happier than he was an hour ago and it’s all Quinlan’s doing.

He rubs his face along Kenobi’s neck as he finishes up, scenting and being scented back, and is gratified when Kenobi starts purring too. The nuzzling is mostly soft, though Quinlan’s stubble is nothing to Kenobi’s beard; the hairs trap Quinlan’s scent where it’ll do the most good. He follows a hint of mischievous intent and tugs at Kenobi’s earlobe with his teeth, earning himself a little whine. He laughs, and licks the curve of Kenobi’s ear, immediately scenting further.

“Anakin’s going to be back soon,” Kenobi says, sounding almost sleep drunk.

Quinlan switches sides and guides them both down to lie, chest to front, in the nest. He works more slowly on the other side, keeps himself  propped up on his elbow, forearm slipped neatly under Kenobi’s neck. The scent gland at Quinlan’s wrist rests under Kenobi’s nose, right where it’ll have the most effect. His other hand rubs up and down Kenobi’s side, and by the time Skywalker reenters the room, Quinlan’s done with licking the stress off and rubbing his scent into anything he thinks will help. He’s lying fully on his side instead of having his head propped up, and just doing his best to spread comfort through the room through Force and smell. He maybe nibbles at the back of Kenobi’s neck, here and there, because the man has lothcat response, and

“Guys?”

“Over here, Skywalker.”

The kid--not really a kid, but younger than Aayla, still, so he counts--rounds the couch, and sees them among the added cloaks and pillows and blanket. He stares. Kenobi starts to stiffen back up.

Quinlan increases his purring, and rubs his face against Kenobi’s neck, and glares up at Skywalker for good measure. Kenobi can’t see past Quinlan, probably, and squirms. Skywalker tilts his head, and then puts up a finger in a ‘one moment’ sort of gesture. He runs off.

“Anakin--”

“Kid’s fine,” Quinlan assures him, and Skywalker skids back into the room at unsafe speeds, arms full of what Quinlan’s pretty sure are his own duvet and pillow, and falls face-first into the nest. Kenobi jerks back into Quinlan, but Skywalker ignores this in favor of rearranging the nest into something approaching functional. He’s better at it than Kenobi.

Quinlan’s pretty sure Skywalker was more open to these things from the start. It tracks.

“Now Anakin, really,” Kenobi sputters, as Skywalker finishes layering things in the way he thinks is best. Skywalker beams at him, earlier melancholy forgotten for the moment, and flops down to drop his head somewhere near Kenobi’s chest.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Skywalker says. “This is good for you.”

Kenobi blushes, and Quinlan scrapes his teeth against the back of his neck again.

“Quinlan!” Kenobi yelps, jolting. “Not--we’re not alone!”

“Helps you calm down, though,” Quinlan says, pressing a few close-mouthed kisses at Kenobi’s hairline.

“Different cultural standards,” Skywalker adds, half-guessing but sure of himself nonetheless. He seems entirely too delighted to be here. “You know what? We should invite Ahsoka.”

“She’s not your padawan here,” Kenobi scolds.

“Yet,” Skywalker corrects. “As soon as I get all my psych evals cleared, the Council’s going to promise. She’s basically my padawan already.”

Kenobi sighs, aggrieved in a manner that feels more fond than actually upset, in the Force, and places a hand lightly on Skywalker’s.

Skywalker chirrups and wriggles closer, pressing his face to Kenobi’s tunic with a smile.

“I see someone’s feeling better,” Kenobi notes, and moves his hand up to play with Skywalker’s hair. “The shower helped?”

“Mm-hm,” Skywalker says. “’nd some of the stuff they made me learn in therapy.”

Kenobi hums low in his throat, an aimless vocalization, as he continues to comb his fingers through Skywalker’s hair.

Skywalker blinks, slow and bleary, with a soft and dopey smile, and Kenobi stops.

“What?”

“I like it when you play with my hair,” Skywalker says, almost too low to hear. His eyes close. “Feels nice. Cared for. Family.”

Kenobi freezes, breath hitching, and Quinlan shifts and lifts just enough to see the man is staring at his own hand in confusion and a slight bit of fear.

“Kenobi?”

“I didn’t even question it,” Kenobi says faintly. “I don’t... I haven’t done that since he was just a child, but I didn’t even question it. I stopped myself from commenting that he’s too old to come to his master for cuddles, because he’s not, in this dimension, and I’m getting used to that, but I started playing with his hair like it was normal and it’s not.”

Quinlan puts his mouth to Kenobi’s trapezius, just enough pressure that he’s not biting, just there, and purrs.

It’s several inches away from anything resembling a mating bite, but Kenobi tilts his head and whines anyway.

“Obi-Wan?” Skywalker prompts, brow furrowed. “It’s not... I mean, I’m not going to say it’s okay, since I know we’re both still upset about our bodies being changed without our permission or input or even a warning, but we’re getting used to it. We’re working with it. The hair thing is fine with me, I like it and would have before. And now that you know you’ll want to do, uh, that sort of thing--”

“Subset of grooming behaviors,” Quinlan tells them, pulling away from Kenobi’s neck with a final open-mouthed kiss. He sees the face Skywalker makes in response to the words, and feels Kenobi’s discomfort, so he elaborates. They’ve compared most of what they hear with tookas and lothwolves, so he thinks he knows what this is about. “We’re not exactly going to start licking each other clean--excluding scent comfort, that’s different--like lothcats, but you’ve already noticed that humans and near-humans are more tactile than you’re used to. Most forms of care, especially of partners and children, ends up physical in some way.”

He gestures between the two of them. “You view Skywalker as family, for all that you shy away from defining it, and so naturally gravitate to care. The easiest way for that to manifest when sharing a nest is usually playing with someone’s hair. Since he’s younger than you, and you’ve spent as much time as you have being the adult in his life...”

Quinlan trails off before he can comment on the question of whether they’re closer to brothers or father-and-son. Kenobi’s already expressed discomfort with that topic, well before they started naturalizing to this dimension. Quinlan’s not going to push for Kenobi to acknowledge Skywalker’s importance to him.

(They’ll have to address it at some point, but that’s a job for the mind healers, not for Quinlan.)

(For all that it’s going to impact and be impacted by their dynamics, that much is definitely not Quinlan’s to handle.)

Kenobi shudders in his arms, but doesn’t shake him off, and doesn’t stop Skywalker from burrowing somehow closer. Quinlan settles back in as Kenobi returns to playing with Skywalker’s hair.

“We really should invite Ahsoka, though.”

“Not tonight, padawan.”

-----------------------------------------------

Additional notes:

I initially wrote “ternary gender,” but found that it didn’t strike true to how I envisioned gender and dynamic playing out among Jedi culture in particular. While the term ‘dynamic’ is used regularly in a more casual setting, Quinlan uses the term “ternary sex” when talking about it in the company of Anakin and Obi-Wan. I view it as a subconscious attempt to keep a clinical view of the ternary sex system present in the omegaverse dimension, in recognition that it’s new and unfamiliar and often unpleasant for Anakin and Obi-Wan, having come from a dimension that doesn’t have ternary sexes or the associated reproductive capabilities, instincts, or cycles.

I’d like to explore how the ideas of sex, gender, dynamic, and so on intersect within the context of this universe, because I think it’s something I’d have a lot of fun working with, but this is not the fic for that.

[theskywaslookingback]

tma fic recs please ? 🤲🏽

Oooooo yes! I never get asks like this, thank you!

[my tumblr fic recs tag is here for browsing]

I had to put it under a cut because it got...entirely too long barely half an hour into making it, sorry.

Under 5k

means of cartharsis by orphan_account [G] [965]

“You’d think – you’d that at this point nightmares would be second nature for me, hm?” Martin says, forcing a smile even as he tugs the blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.

It’s meant to be a bit funny. Instead of laughing, though, Jon frowns.

“No,” he says simply, and matter-of-factly wipes the moisture from Martin’s cheeks with a tissue like he’s a crying child.

A Proper Sleepover by Goodluckdetective (scorpiantales) [T] [1.4k]

In a different world, one where Elias is not waiting for them outside the Lonely, everyone has a chance to savor a moment of respite. As much as they can get these days. If only to talk about things that long need to be spoken.

“Basira says we should all sleep in the same room tonight,” Jon says without looking up. “Safer. So we can keep an eye out for intruders and also each other.”

“So we’re having a proper sleepover then?”

Jon scoffs. “Technically we’ve been having a proper one for months.”

where i go, when i go there by rainny_days [T] [1.7k]

Martin wants Jon to hold his hand. Martin doesn't want Jon to hold his hand.

It's complicated.

all the other ways by AptlyNamed [G] [2.2k]

Jon loses his first soul mark when he is eight years old.

a palace from ruin by bibliocratic [G] [2.2k]

"What're you sorry for?” Martin asks.

“I should have asked,” Jon says finally. “I'd never.... you were always so private about him, so I mean, at first I wasn't sure he was even yours, but then – when you, when you went with Peter, and I – he was so small, and I thought he was h-half-dead. S-so I picked him up and I carried him. And I'm sorry.”

interiors by doomcountry [T] [2.7k]

In the doorway, he fumbles with his keys. Their sound is loud in the silent stairwell. You don’t remember getting here.

searching for a light (for a right) by Kalgalen [T] [2.7k]

Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".

Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.

(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)

how to plant a garden in rocky soil by treeprince [T] [2.9k]

Sometimes you just need a good pair of hands to work out all the kinks in your life.

Good thing Martin has two.

A Weather In The Flesh by cuttooth [G] [3k]

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

*

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

I'll bring the motion by callmearctus [T] [3.1k]

A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.

Martin helps.

A Bread Made In Heaven by Againstme [G] [3.3k]

Martin moves over and watches how his boyfriend handles the dough. He's awkward with it, tentative and gentle, as if he's scared of hurting it somehow.

"Is this, uh, am I doing this right?" Jon asks, still slowly stretching out the dough and folding it onto itself.

"Well," he says shifting closer to Jon again, "you could be applying more pressure. Here, let me help you out, dear."

Martin moves fully behind Jon, and reaches around him, putting his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Jon inhales sharply, but doesn't say anything else, just lets Martin's hand rest on top of his.

Martin's hands are bigger, but not big enough to entirely envelop the other's hands, and Jon's hands are much, much warmer than his own are. To see what they're doing, Martin moves his head to look over Jon's shoulder. Though he can't see his boyfriend's face from this angle, he can see how it is slowly growing red at the edge of his vision. He decides not to tease him on it, instead content with letting a smile spread across his face and slowly guiding their joined hands in the proper motion.

Or, Martin teaches Jon how to make bread.

stumbling and spinning by lady_mab [G] [3.3k]

“Things happened,” Jon says demurely, trying to untangle Gerry’s fingers, but it only results in him getting pulled in so Gerry can kiss him properly. “It’s not all that bad.”

“I suppose not,” Gerry says with a sigh, sitting back upright. “You somehow managed to snag an incredible boyfriend out of it.”

It takes a solid few seconds before realization clicks in Martin’s brain. “You mean me?” [...]

“You have to admit, Jon has great tastes,” Gerry teases.

nothing sweeter than local honey by beeclaws [T] [3.4k]

So Tim is content, one arm leaned into the spray, waiting for the water to warm, enjoying the feeling of homecoming underneath the gentle fuzz of jetlag, when he hears gasping, panicked breaths coming from the other room.

Tim and Jon, in the aftermath, relearning how to be okay.

When Words are Inadequate by Mugatu [T] [3.8k]

Meals and the preparation of are, for want of a better word, informative. Fact gathering. A place where they can fill in the gaps of their knowledge of the other.

Jon cooks for Martin, and they learn more about each other.

go softly by doomcountry [T] [4k]

And there is nothing else besides this.

Imago by cuttooth [T] [4k]

“Jon?” he asks tentatively, tightening his grip around the poker as it slips against his sweaty palm. The antennae twitch, and suddenly Martin knows that it’s Jon, the knowledge sliding into his mind in a surge of desperate affection, the same profound love he felt that first time he truly saw Jon in the fog of the Lonely.

“Oh,” he whispers. “It really is you.”

*

Jon changes, but he’s still the same to Martin.

shoreline by bibliocratic [G] [4.1k]

“Martin," Tim says kindly, tipsily, only mildly slurring. "Dearest, dearest Martin. You're wankered, babe. Last train to Stockwell fucked off hours ago because it is now piss off o'clock in the morning, and there's a sofa with your exact name on it at my place. Thought you said you wanted some handsome fellow to take you back to his tonight?”

Or: The OG Archive crew go drinking, Martin comes out, and gets some well deserved TLC. In that order.

get your epitaph right by bibliocratic [G] [4.2k]

Martin's daemon has tried on the shape of dogs and lizards and snakes and horses, and even – once, when he was younger and Mum took him to the seaside, a fish.

Martin's never seen his soul in the dressing of a spider before.

i've known the warmth of your doorways by beeclaws [T] [4.2k]

'I’m always in pain, Jon wants to say, even as he dismisses the thought as melodramatic. Between his growing collection of old wounds and scar tissue, the supernatural hunger for statements that hasn’t been truly satiated in months, and the unpredictable aches and strains his body threw off day by day long before he ever set foot in the Institute, some level of pain and discomfort follows Jon wherever he goes now. He is used to being in pain. He’s not used to someone holding his hand as he suffers through it.'

Jon catalogs the comforts he receives, and wonders how long he will be allowed to keep them.

lay down your weary head by Zykaben [T] [4.6k]

Jon has been running himself ragged, searching for every scrap of information he can possibly find about the Unknowing. He's exhausted and sleep-deprived but he can't bring himself to take a break, not now.

Luckily, Tim and Martin are there to make sure that their boyfriend gets the care and rest he needs.

only the sweetest words remain by bluejayblueskies [T] [4.6k]

This isn't how things are supposed to go, right? Jon remembers those ratty paperbacks from the charity shops, dime-a-dozen romance novels with broken bindings and yellowing pages and words that spoke of love and passion and sexuality in prose that was more than a bit too mature for someone whose age hadn’t yet reached double digits. Stolen glances turn into dinner dates turn into passionate kisses turn into…

Well, he’d never actually read those parts of the books, because it had all seemed so deeply uncomfortable and gross. But he got the picture.

Or, Jonathan Sims, on being loved

5k-20k

and they keep not letting go by Marianne_Dashwood [G] [5k]

It’s an electric feeling, something strange and new and familiar all at once, even though he has been holding Martin’s hand for most of the day. His stomach swoops, like he is standing on the edge of the precipice of realisation and staring into the void of unknowing. But at the same time, he does know. In this instant of contact between them, the last few years of cups of tea and small smiles and momentary glances, of panic and fear and only feeling safe with Martin’s solid presence in the room, despite his paranoia, rush into him, and oh, oh oh.

ready to call this love by yewgrove [G] [5.6k]

How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!

Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99 [T] [6k]

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

This Must Be The Place by cuttooth [T] [6k]

“You said – you said we were going home,” Martin says softly.

“I did,” says Jon, and is grateful that Martin doesn’t comment on him calling the Archives home. “I – I don’t really know where to go. I, uh, I don’t have a flat anymore, I don’t think. We could find a hotel?”

“Let’s go to my place,” says Martin. His hand squeezes Jon’s, more gently than before. Most importantly, Jon notes, he doesn’t let go.

*

Jon and Martin go home for a little while.

Small Things, Simple Acts by ZaliaChimera [T] [6.6k]

Even after leaving London, Jon and Martin are not free, not really. Maybe they never will be.

But for now they can be themselves, and maybe in the end, that's enough.

house by tomatoes [G] [9k]

Martin can take care of himself.

roses, roses, roses by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) [T] [9.3k]

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.

a deeply annoying child by ajkal2 [G] [9.6k]

Jon is hiding under the desk.

----

There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.

Inseparable by voiceless_terror [T] [10.3k]

“You can stay.” The voice interrupts his internal panic, and he looks over to find Jon studiously avoiding his gaze, staring hard at a neighboring bush. Martin wonders what caused his sudden change of heart. “But you have to sit on the other side. And don’t talk to me.”

Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood meet as children. Some things change, others do not.

i'm almost me again, you're almost you by gruhukens [G] [12k]

After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.

Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

---

In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.

hello my old heart by firebirdsuite [T] [15.8k]

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Over 20k

The Kindness of Strangers by TheOestofOCs [M] [23k]

It was easier to treat Jon like a monster when he wasn’t shivering against his back, brokenly humming—wait, was that…

“Are you trying to do ‘Hey, Jude’?” Tim demanded.

Jon stopped, stiffening. “Mm hrmh mm mmh hm,” he said defensively.

“You really can’t hold a tune, can you, boss?”

*

It was just an ordinary walk to a restaurant. Tim had insisted that if they were going to talk, there would be no tape recorders or weird Archives ghosts listening in. A bit of fresh air wouldn’t kill him, Tim had said. What could go wrong?

By the time Jon spots the white delivery van, it’s much too late.

The Stranger kidnaps Jon. Tim comes along for the ride.

Misjudged by ShastaFirecracker [T] [36.5k]

Martin's been a longtime listener of What the Ghost, so when Georgie gives a shoutout to her flatmate's Twitch channel during a Q&A, he checks it out - only to discover that her flatmate is also his most terrifying coworker at his new job. The first time they crossed paths, Jon yelled at him for incompetence. But on the streams, Martin sees an entirely different person - someone fun and relaxed, engaging and unfairly attractive. Over time, Martin begins to find that Jon buried inside his dour, awkward coworker. He also learns to live with the fact that his crush is painfully one-sided... or is it?

if we make it through the night everyone is gonna hear us (Series) by skvadern [Ratings Vary] [42.4k]

In which Sasha survives the NotThem (with a little help from a certain Distortion) and she and Jon spend s2 working together to try and make sense of everything that's happening to them. It goes...interestingly

the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic [T] [49.7k]

Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.

Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.

Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.

it's only forever by lady_mab [T] [50.9k]

“The castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Jon breathes, recalling again the words from one of the past conversations with Martin. “He’s there.”

“Turn back, Jonathan,” the Goblin King says, and Jon is surprised to hear a slight edge of desperation in the tone. “Turn back before it’s too late.”

“I can’t,” Jon answers with the same tone. “You know that I can’t.”

The Goblin King’s grin is gone completely, and he regards Jon with a degree of pity before that melts into resignation.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey [T] [53.3k]

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

A Home For What Loves You by TheWrongShop [T] [151k]

It was completely fine that Jon was following up on this very normal, non-supernatural statement at midnight on a Friday. He was going to find nothing at all, and then he was going to go home and sleep for fourteen straight hours and feel absolutely no qualms about moving case #0150409 directly into the filing cabinet marked "discredited".

Or; Jon and Martin end up investigating Carlos Vittery's basement and finding the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss together.

RATED E *MINORS DNI*

A Look And A Voice by cuttooth [E] [6.9k]

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Jon asks bluntly, and for a second Martin can’t breathe.

“It - it doesn’t matter what I - ” he begins valiantly, before Jon interrupts him.

“Because I want to have sex with you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if you think it’s for the wrong reasons. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. The only thing that matters is if you want to as well.”

*

Martin meets a guy in a bar and takes him home.

Warms The Coldest Night by cuttooth [E] [11k]

"Flame that warms the coldest night Bring to us the waxing Light, Be with us on Solstice Night." Gypsy - Bring Back The Light

There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the Archives when Jon gets in.

Curiosity by ShastaFirecracker [E] [11.6k]

“You know that conversation we had the other day about how one of the most important things for queer youth to learn is that it's okay to change their minds, because identity and self-discovery are always fluid?”

Behind him, Martin slipped oven mitts over his hands and pulled open the oven door. The scent of garlic and rosemary flooded the kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.

“I, um... I'd like to revisit the topic of sex.”

At the Interim (Series) by Rend_Herring [E] [41k]

A Measure Outside the Lines and The Residuum

triptych (Series) by Stacicity [E] [44.9k]

A collection of Jon/Tim/Martin fics

a steady hand, a delicate man by callmearctus [E] [52.8k]

Martin is the proprietor and manager of a very discrete and fairly exclusive brothel situated between Belgravia and Chelsea. Blackwood House excels at special requests and pleasing any client.

Except for Jon, who probably has never been pleased a day in his entire life.

Despite that, he still comes back. It eventually begs the question: how do you solve a problem like Jon Sims?

[forever-rogue]

Afterglow - Part 9

A/N: Hello! It is finally time for some more Frankie! I hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: drug and alcohol mentions; mild smut (18+ only)

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I love you, Honey Bee,” Frankie’s voice was soft and warm in your ear, still thick with sleep. You murmured your gentle agreement as you buried your face in his chest. His body was warm, as warm as you remembered as he held you tightly in his arms, legs tangled together. You reached up and ran a hand through his soft curls, wondering if this was a dream or reality. It felt too good to be real. 

“Francisco,” you finally opened your eyes and his dark ones, your grin matching his own, “you’re so warm and soft. I don’t want to get up.”

“Then don’t,” he insisted as you nodded, leaning up and pressing your lips gently against his. His large hands found your waist as he pulled on top of him, earning a small sound of approval from you, “stay.”

“Only if you promise to stay too,” you insisted, nuzzling your face against his as he quietly promised the same, “don’t go away again. I’m your girl. I’ve always been your girl.”

His arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you to him, feeling all of your bare skin against his. A tear had rolled down your cheek, which he quickly wiped away before tenderly cradling your face. The way he looked at you with such pure adoration in his soft chocolate brown eyes was enough to make your heart melt. He was studying you with fervent intensity, that you could tell a million things were going through his mind.  You wondered how you’d ever managed to walk away from him...you should have followed him, you shouldn’t have spent the last twenty years without him. It should always have been the two of you. 

“I’m not leaving,” he whispered gently, tracing the tips of his fingers over your face, “never again. I swear it.”

“I love you,” you reached up and grabbed his hand in yours, holding on it like you were afraid that if you let it go, he would disappear, before bringing it to your lips and kissing it, “I’ve missed you so much. Even if we were just silly kids back then, my love for you was real. Always, and if we could go back I would have followed you anywhere.”

“I would never have asked you to do that,” he insisted, a hand going to the back of your neck as he pulled you down towards him, “it would not have been fair to you.”

“I would have done it anyway,” you were firm with your answer as you looked at him soft, sensitive eyes, “an imperfect life with you would have been better than a life without you.”

“What did I ever do to deserve to be loved by you?” he whispered against your lips before you kissed, gently but with a sense of urgency, “will you let me love you?”

“Always,” you promised gently as his ran his large hands down your sides before settling them on your lips and pulling you flush against him, “I’m yours, Frankie.”

“And I am yours,” he promised as you buried your face into the juncture of neck and shoulder. He reached down in between your bodies, touching you where you needed him most, where you could already feel your arousal pooling. His touch was gentle, as he ran his fingers through your soaked folds, causing you to moan into his soft skin. 

“Francisco,” it was but a breathy whisper against, like the sweetest music to his ears as you lightly bucked into his touch. He whispered soft praises and reassurances into your ear as he pressed kisses against the side of your head. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, pressing kisses along his jaw, as he delicately pushed a few fingers inside of you. 

“My sweet girl,” he whispered as he turned his face in order to capture your lips with his. His kisses were still as soft and gentle as you always remember, leaving you wanting more and more. If you had any say in it, you would have never ever left his arms again, “my sweet bee.” 

“I love you,” you nuzzled your nose against his before delicately kissing it, “I need you, please.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as you nodded. His heart felt his heart skip a few beats at your gentle, tender willingness, but continued to touch you and kiss you. He was moving slowly, deliberately and gently so as to not hurt you, and it was enough to leave you almost breathless. 

When you knew you were ready, you reached down to find his hand, moving it gently out of the way, before lining him up at your entrance. It took a moment but you slowly sunk down on him, the two of you moaning lightly at the feeling. Frankie had a look of pure adoration on his face as he watched you with reverence before pulling you back down against him. He wanted to feel all of you, to feel every inch of your skin against his. You both had so much lost to make up for and Frankie vowed to memorize every touch, feel, and sound you made. 

“You are perfect,” he whispered as he started to move under you, setting a slow and gentle pace that you felt no need to increase it, “you are so perfect to me - for me.”

“Francisco,” you pressed kisses along his jaw and neck as you moved with him, “you feel so good, so perfect. I love you.”

“I love you,” he held you tightly in his arms, as a few tears rolled down your cheek. They were not tears of pain or fear or worry, but of love. It had been so long, so much time that you had been waiting for this - for him. It was like your heart, your soul, had always been waiting for him and only him. It had never felt the same with any else as it did with him; it was like the two of you were meant to be together and no matter what, the universe, fate, or whatever you wanted to call it, was determined to do. You like that idea - the idea that your soul was forever entwined with his, that you were meant to be. His was your home and you were his, “don’t cry, my sweet love.”

“I’m not sad,” you promised, “I-I just...I missed you. After all this time, I know it’s been you.”

“It was always you,” he promised, gently kissing away your tears, “you feel so perfect...I love you.”

“I love you too,” it was a soft declaration as your vision started to get hazy and the warmth and fire between your legs was getting to its peak, that tight coil in your belly threatening to snap, “I’m not going to last, Francisco.”

“Me neither,” he whispered, “it’s okay. You can let go, I’ve got you. Always.”

“Always,” you agreed as you closed your eyes and buried your face in his chest, feeling your climax wash over you. You whispered his name over and over like a prayer, like it was the only you knew how to say. Frankie held you tightly as he found his own release, following closely behind you. You could feel him inside you as he slowly stopped moving and you both worked to catch your breath, “oh Francisco.”

“Honey bee,” he whispered softly as his grip around you loosened and he moved a few stray looks of hair out of your face. You grinned at him, working your kisses up the column of his neck and only stopping one you got to his lips, pressing a kiss to them before beaming at him, “how I’ve missed you. Nothing could ever compare to you.”

“Nor you,” you opened your mouth to say something else, but were promptly cut off by the loud buzzing of your phone on your nightstand. You groaned heavily before the two of you burst into laughter before you kissed him and snatched the phone, “shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Frankie asked you looked at whatever was on your screen. You slowly rolled off of him, landing next to him with a soft thud as you quickly typed away, “work?”

“Yup,” you said as you gave him an almost pleading look, “I’m afraid I’ve lost track of time, and am running late for an appointment.”

“Shit,” he said as a wicked little grin crossed his features, and you could help but mimic it, “is it bad if I said I’m not even remotely sorry?”

“Not at all,” you promised, giving him one last little kiss before sliding out from under the covers and heading for the bathroom. When you turned around, you found Frankie watching and staring at you with pure reverence, “I’m not one bit sorry…but unfortunately I do need to go. If it wasn’t so…”

“Relax,” he insisted softly, “I understand. Your job is very important. Besides, it’s not like this was...planned. I’ll see myself out.”

“You can stay,” you promised, “as long as you want. Are you working today?”

“No...I’m off for a bit,” his response was normal, but you could tell there was something...off, “I’ll be home.”

“Would you mind terribly if I asked you to watch Daisy today?” you asked as grabbed some clean clothes from your wardrobe as he sat up and nodded, “she really likes you and it might be nice for her to be around you and away from me for a bit. I can pick her up this evening, or you’re welcome to stay.” 

“I’ll figure it,” he offered you a small smile, “I’ll let you know what we end up doing. Are you free tonight...for dinner? I can make dinner or we can go out or get take out…”

“Whichever works for me,” you grinned at him, “maybe we can get take out. We still...we have a lot to talk about, Frankie.”

“Yes,” he agreed as he got up and came over to you, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “you better get going. You don’t want to keep them waiting much longer…”

“I’m just going to take a quick shower, care to join me?”

“I’m afraid if I did that, it wouldn’t be a very quick shower at all, “ he joked as he grabbed his clothes from the floor, “go on. I’ll see you tonight.” 

“Goodbye Frankie,” you said softly, running a hand through his mused curls, “goodbye for now, anyways. Just for now. Not forever.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

The minutes slowly bled into hours which painstakingly slowly turned into the majority of your day. You'd tried your best to keep your focus on your work, which today consisted mostly of some paperwork. At least that way you weren't taking away from anyone that actually came to you for help.

You felt like a giddy school girl again, young and carefree - happy. The smile that hadn't reached your eyes for what seemed like ever, finally did again. You looked and seemed truly happy. It wasn't just about the sex or the intimacy, it was everything. Everything you had been missing on and craving for so long seemed like it was slowly coming to you. That alone was enough instill such a sense of hope you within you that it was almost scary.

You'd exchanged a few texts with Frankie here and there, nothing of significance, but enough to make your heart race with excitement each time his name popped up.

Never in a million years would you have thought you would be in this position...and yet here you were. And something about it just felt right. Natural.

By the time you left the office you were giddy and starving. You called Frankie and were ready to ask him if you should pick up take out when you quickly learned that he had beaten you to the punch.

When you got home, Frankie was still at your place, unpacking the containers you quickly realized contained Chinese food. It made the whole kitchen smell delicious. Next to all of that was a big beautiful bouquet of a rainbow of tulips.

"Hi," your grin was stretching from ear to ear as you were greeted by Daisy running up to in sheer excitement and Frankie offering you a warm smile.

"Hi," he grinned back, "you're just in time. I got back a few minutes ago."

"Better not be Panda Express!"

"Absolutely not," he insisted firmly, "this is from the best Chinese place in town. And flowers for you, of course. Daisy helped me pick them."

"My favorites," you whispered as you went over and lightly touched some of the dainty petals, "you remembered."

"Of course I did," he whispered softly as kissed the top of your head, "I hope you're hungry, I went a little overboard, I think..."

"Starving," you grabbed a plate as you surveyed the spread in front of you, "especially after this morning."

"Cheeky," a light flush rose up in his cheeks as he piled up both of your plates, "some things never change."

»»————-　♡　————-««

As he finished loading up the plates, you went to the fridge and grabbed out a few beers, making quick of popping the caps off and taking them to the living room, setting them down on the table as you waited for him. 

“Too casual?” you asked as he sat down next to you, setting the plates down. He shook his head as he took the beer you offered him, pausing to clink it against yours before you both took a sip, “to new beginnings.”

“New beginnings,” he agreed, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. Daisy made a small sound of content as she settled into her big fluffy bed, a new bone in her mouth as she looked between the two of you.

“Is that...a new bone?” you snorted with laughter as you looked at him with a crooked eyebrow and he sheepishly nodded, “ahh, she’s already got you around her paw.”

“Look at that face,” he groaned defensively, “how am I supposed to say not to her?”

“You don’t,” you agreed as she gnawed on the bone, “why do you think she has all those toys and beds?”

“Soft hearts win over soft hearts,” Frankie said it so quietly you almost didn’t hear him as you turned on the television and put on some random show on Netflix. You doubted you would be spending too much time getting invested in the show it didn’t really matter what you put on. You still had so many things you wanted to say to him, to ask him, but you figured it would all happen in due time. 

Dinner was delicious; Frankie had been right that it was indeed the best Chinese place in town. Conversation flowed freely and in many ways it was like no time at all had passed between the two of you. You discussed some simple things, things that the made the two of you laugh, and deeper things, events and situations that had happened to both of you that made your heart ache for the other. 

With Frankie, things were easy, you didn’t have to think about them. You wondered if it would have always been like this. You definitely wouldn’t have minded if they were. 

But there was one thing still on your mind that was starting to slowly drive you crazy. The past two times you’d come across Frankie, he had been...completely out of it. You had your suspicions as to what was going on, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. Whatever it was, you wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. Maybe your fears were for nothing, maybe it was nothing and you were overreacting…

“What’s wrong, sweet bee?” he asked as he gently nudged your leg with his. You swallowed thickly, setting down the beer and turning to face him, “you’re thinking very loudly.”

“Francisco,” as soon as his name spilled from your lips in that tone of voice he knew something was up, and he was not a stupid man and never had been. Frankie knew exactly where you were going. He exhaled sharply through his nose as he focused his attention on you, “when I found you at your house last week...and then the other night..what...what was going on?”

The shift in the air in the room was palpable, and the tension in the air was so thick you could have sliced it with the dullest of knives. He was silent for a few moments, hands on knees as he squeezed them lightly. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he seemed to be at a loss for words. 

“Please, Frankie...you can tell me anything,” your voice was soft as you moved to reached over and grab his hand, but he quickly moved out of your way, shifting so you weren’t able to touch him. You were so surprised by his action that a small gasp left your lips as recoiled, “Frankie? Baby, please talk to me...if there’s something going on, you can tell me.” 

“It’s nothing,” his voice was sharp; biting even. It was a tone you don’t you had ever heard from him...not since...not since the day he had told you that he was enlisting, “it’s not a big deal, so just let it go.”

“It’s not...Frankie,” you set down your beer on the table and angled your body towards him. He stiffened, visibly trying to avoid your eyes, “it’s something that’s affecting you, obviously it’s something. You don’t have to hide anything from me - I can help…”

“It’s nothing, and it’s not affecting me,” he said softly, his voice losing the edge as he stared at the floor. His throat felt heavy and thick, constricting as he desperately wished you would let it, “don’t just assume you know it’s affecting me when you have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“I know enough to know you’ve had at least two bad trips, Francisco,” you could sense that he was trying to shut you out but you desperately hoped you could turn this conversation around. Now that you had him back, this gaping hole in your heart felt like it was finally filled again, you didn’t just want to let him go. Not without a fight anyway, “I found you lying on living room floor, high and out of it, Frankie. You came to my door high and barely able to stand. Tell me I’m wrong, tell me there’s nothing.”

“It’s not a problem,” he insisted sharply as you crossed your arms over your chest, unsure if you wanted to argue back or cry, “it’s not a big deal-”

“Then why did you come to my door, crying and apologizing to me?” your voice shook as you reached over and grabbed his face in a firm but tender hold. His dark eyes studied you as his lip trembling, “if you need help, I am here for you, but I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, baby.”

“Stop,” it was somewhere between a plea and a command as his large hands found your wrists and pulled you away from him, “stop. I am not your patient, you don’t need to try and psychoanalyze me.”

“I want to help you!” you insisted as he stood up, running his hands over his face in exasperation. Before you could try and stop him, he started heading towards the door, grabbing his jean jacket from where it was draped over one of the stools, “Frankie! Please, don’t…”

“Don’t what?” he stopped at the door, turned around to face you. His eyes were glossy with tears that were threatening to spill over as your own were already rolling down your cheeks. You didn’t even bother to try and wipe them as you watched him, mouth open as you tried to figure out what you wanted to say.

Don’t go. Stay. Please don’t leave me.

“Frankie,” your voice shook with every syllable, “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m not blaming you or whatever. I just want you to talk to me, to tell me what’s going on with you. I am here to support you always.”

“I don’t need your support,” the words were laced with venom as a deep frown etched itself on his face, “because there is nothing going on. It’s not a problem or an issue.”

“Francisco,” you could tell he was blatantly lying, either unwilling to confide in you or admit he had a problem, “two times in the time we’ve been reunited you’ve been completely gone. Please just...talk to me, that’s all I’m asking.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” he insisted and you could feel your heart breaking all over again. This time your heart wasn’t hurt for yourself, instead it was aching for him. You wanted him to be okay, wanted him to be the best for himself, “you’re making a big deal out of nothing!”

“Then why did not mention it to me?”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” he almost shouted, “you don’t get to come back into my life and then just do this!”

“Do what?” you asked as you stepped closer to him, treading carefully in order to keep him from running away, “care about you? Want what’s best for you? I love you, Frankie.”

“You don’t know,” he inhaled shakily, expelling his long breath slowly, “you don’t know what’s happened, what’s been going on...you’ve been gone.”

“Yeah?” you put your hands on your hips, unsure if you wanted to hold him and remind him that everything would be okay, or if you wanted to slap some sense into him. But in the moment, you could feel your own temper flair up, “and who’s fault is that, Frankie? I’m not the one who gave up everything and walked away!”

“I know that,” he said as he hung his head, “I know that! And I have regretted that decision every single day. I shouldn’t have...but you...I called, and you never called back. I waited for your call for so long…”

“What did you expect me to do, Frankie?” you shouted back at him, “we talked and we didn’t and then months went bye and nothing. I couldn’t wait forever. I couldn’t put myself back together and then have it come crashing down again. I couldn’t do it anymore…”

“Did you even...did you listen to my message?” he asked as you met his eyes. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to control your emotions.

“No,” you admitted, “I deleted it.”

“Y-you deleted it?”

“Yes,” you shrugged, “I never expected to see you again. I didn’t want to have my heart broken more, Frankie.”

“That message was everything-”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” you dabbed at your eyes, “you would have still been and I still would have ended up here.”

“I…” his hand was on the knob as he stared at his feet, pulling his signature cap back onto his head, “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry….”

He opened the door, letting a cold rush of frigid winter air as your heart sank. You wanted to run and stop him, but you found yourself rooted in your spot, “don’t. Frankie, don’t go.”

“I can’t stay,” he almost choked on his words as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Please don’t walk away,” you were begging him at this point, not caring how pathetic you sounded, “don’t leave again. Stay. Please.”

“We’re only going to fight…”

“Then stay,” you rushed over to him, reaching for his hand on the knob, “and let’s fight. We can figure this out.”

“I can’t,” the words caught in his throat as he started to walk out of the door, his hand slipping out of yours, “I can’t do this to you. You deserve….the world, Honey Bee. I can’t give you that.”

“I want you,” you insisted, “I want you and only you, you are my world, Frankie! I don’t care about whatever you’re going through, we can figure it out, anything, together. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” he turned to you and offered the weakest ghost of a smile, “you are everything. Please don’t forget that.”

“Frankie, don’t walk away,” you called after him as he slowly got further and further down your driveway, “Frankie, please! Please come back!” 

But he didn’t. He didn’t turn back and look at you for even a moment. He just kept walking until he was gone. 

Just like that, Frankie was gone again. 

Your lips trembled as you turned to walk back inside, slowly closing the door and locking it. Tears were running hot down your face as your vision grew bleary. You didn’t even make it to the living from leaning against the wall and slumping to the floor. Your whole body was shaking from your soft sobs as you tried to contain yourself. Had you just made the second biggest mistake of your life?

You heard soft footsteps as Daisy gently padded over to you, nuzzling your face gently with her snout as you wrapped your arms around her. She was calm and patient as she let you cry into her, offering you the occasional sweet kiss to try and make you feel better. 

“Daisy,” your voice was dry and cracking as you scratched her ears, “thank you for being there for me. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Her tail wagged lightly as she sat down next to you. Her eyes were soft and gentle and it was almost as if she was trying to communicate with you. Sometimes you wished she was able to speak, just to hear what she wanted to say. But this time...you didn’t need her to - what she was saying was loud and clear. 

“You’re right,” you told her as she made a small sound of acknowledgement, “you’re right. I’ve lost him once, but I’m not going to lose him again. I can’t - he’s...he’s everything. And I’m never letting go again, no matter what.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[eelistolvanen]

Bruises that you left behind - Travis Konecny Finale

A/N: HERE IT IS!! Finally got around to finish off the last parts. This chapter is a bit longer but hopefully you like it. Thanks to everyone who read this series, I honestly never thought I would be able to publish a nearly 20k long fic. So thank you for reading, liking, reblogging or sommenting on it. <3

Words: 5k

Warnings: Angst, no proofread (as usual), don’t know what else

Links to the previous parts:

Part 1       Part 2         Part 3       Part 4     

_____________________________________________________

“Have you looked at the teams that could draft you?” Your voice was quiet, soft. You weren’t entirely sure if this was crossing the line or not, since you knew that he didn’t want to think about the draft to much. But you couldn’t stop yourself.

“No, Y/N. It’s not in my hands anyway.“

“Well I did. And I think-“ “ Don’t Y/N. I could literally go to any team.”

“But some are more likely and some seem nicer than others…” You could hear him let out a deep sigh, letting you know that he gave in. “ Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean Ottawa would be perfect. You already play here and I’ve almost gotten used to this city. Calgary, Edmonton, Winnipeg are around there as well. There not as close as Ottawa but still Canada. Maybe there’s some other smaller cities…”

“Y/N, there are no real small cities. And you can barely tolerate Ottawa and it’s one of the smaller ones… Detroit’s close and-“

“But it’s so industrial and dark and… I don’t know, Travis. I just… What if it’s somewhere far away?”

“You’ll come with me… I’m not leaving you behind and I know you don’t like cities and would rather live here on the farm but I can’t change it.”

You let out a deep breath. “Travis, I just.. I want to come with you, I do. But I’m not made for a big city. I love my friends, my family, everything we’ve got here. And dragging me into some big city far away, feels a lot like locking me up in a cage. And you know how much I value freedom.”

“But you’ll make new friends, and you’ll warm up to living in a city, just like you did with Ottawa. WE can do this, we’re going to be just fine, okay?”

When you looked into his eyes you could see how sure he was of this, so you slowly exhaled.

“Okay. But promise me that you’re not gonna do this to me. If it’s someplace too big or to constricting for me, you won’t keep me locked in a cage. Promise me you won’t clip my wings.”

He gave you a soft smile and slowly caressed your face before his expression turned serious.

“I promise I won’t do this to you.”

 You were struggling to breath, trying to gasp for air.

“No, no no no. This is not…” You didn’t really know where you were going with this. Your heart was aching more than it had in a while. The things was he was right. You could almost hear 17 year old Travis saying it. He had promised you. He had promised you to not constrict you, promised you to not take you into some big dark city. How you hated cities. Or at least used to hate them.

He meant to do the right thing, at the wrong time. And how wrong he had been…

“I didn’t want you to have this life, you deserved someone better. Someone who is there for you all the time. Someone who doesn’t spent most of his time on the road while you are left behind in some apartment, some city that you hate. Before I was drafted I promised you I would never do this to you. Lock you in a cage, clip your wings as you said. You hated the city, you hated the thought of being away from your family and friends. You loved being outside, being in nature. Port Stanley, the lake, the farm. This life here is everything you hate. And I would not put you through this, no matter how much I loved you.”

This felt like a dagger straight through your heart. You really couldn’t imagine yourself living that life back then.

“I moved here for you, Travis. Because I loved you. And…” He took the words straight out of your mouth.

“That’s what I mean, Y/N. I didn’t want you to give up your dream life just for me. Can’t you see that?

“Hah…” your laugh sounded bitter, almost cruel. “How couldn’t you see how happy I was? I wanted that life Travis! You didn’t do this to me. I choose to come to Philly Travis! I made the final decisions. Because I loved you. Because it was worth it to me. But do you know what you really did? You left me! On our wedding day. And I tried to come after you but you already left. And I waited and waited and waited in our house. The house we were supposed to grown old together. Spend our time in the off season. Raise our kids.”

You paused trying to get some air in, now you felt like you were being constricted. Travis’ hand moved towards you, he tried to reach out to you but you pulled back. Took a step back, trying to get some more space between the two of you. You took a deep breath.

“But then Nolan told me where you were and that you wouldn’t come back. You never came back! So when Nolan left I burned the letter and started packing everything up. By midnight of that day I was gone.”  

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t! Sorry just doesn’t cut it.”

There were many moments were you felt broken, shattered in the last few years. But were have you felt this low. And little. And humiliated. You felt like the invisible hand around your neck had tightened. You needed to get out of here.

“I..  can’t do this, Trav. I need… time.” You barely got those words over your lips. You could see that Travis wanted to say something, reach out to you in any way. But he didn’t. He knew better than that. So he watched you get in your car and drive off into the distance. Probably trying to put as much space as possible in between the two of you.  

---------------

You threw yourself into work after that. Week after week. Occasionally meeting up with the girls or some of the guys on the team. You knew better this time than to push Nolan out of your life. You started to help Maddie with the wedding planning, even if you felt a little tug in your heart everytime you did. You felt like you were starting to get your life back a bit. Piece by piece.

It was a Sunday afternoon in late March when you felt a sudden urge to clean your apartment. You went through the kitchen, the living room and were just about starting in your room when your eyes fell onto a drawer in your room. And suddenly you felt like you knew exactly what you had to do. You felt pretty erratic and your mind was racing.

Within 20 minutes you were sitting your car in front of a building halfway through town. And for the next 10 minutes you contemplated whether this was actually the right thing to do. Was this really what you wanted? Should you really go through with it? But you were already here, so you exited the car.

Only when you walked through the lobby you realised that you weren’t sue how to get to his apartment. He wasn’t living in the same building anymore, then you used to live in. The receptionist probably wouldn’t just let you in and you didn’t really felt like explaining your situation to the receptionist.

So instead you exited the building and made your way back to the car. You needed to talk to him, now. Before you run again.

You didn’t have his number either so you texted Nolan to text Travis to come outside. You felt pretty weird, almost like some stalker waiting in front of a building until the person left the building or so. Thankfully, it didn’t take Nolan very long to respond and telling you that he texted Travis. He also mentioned that Travis hadn’t read the text yet.

You were still staring at you phone waiting for Nolan to update you when he exited the building and walked towards you. His steps were cautious and he seemed pretty tired. When he finally was a few steps away you felt your mind catch up.

“Uhh, I was just in the neighbourhood…” What a dumb thing to say, Y/N; you thought. He knew this was a lie. You were never in this area of town. But Travis seemed more confused than anything.

“Ah, yeah okay… What’s going on?” He seemed more nervous than usual. His confidence seemed non existent at this moment. He looked like a deer in the headlights. Well, you came to him so you might as well say what you came here for.

“I thought a lot about us after that conversation, Travis.” He looked guilty at the mention of your last conversation.

“You know, the reason why I burned that letter that day was because I thought that no matter what the reason was, it wouldn’t matter. Because in the end you left me. Yes, I wanted to know the reason why you did it. But it doesn’t change anything. No reason truly justifies what you did to me. Or makes up for all the pain. It just gives me clearance. You know even with that good intention, I just don’t understand why you didn’t ever talk to me about it. We were 17 when we made that promise and I don’t think we ever brought it up again.”

Travis was shaking his head desperately, you were pretty sure he knew where this was going.

“Please don’t, Y/N. Please…” But he knew he was losing this game.

“We’re not the Y/N and Travis that we once were. Not anymore. And we never will be, Travis. Believe me I want nothing more than to go back to that time. To that couple that we used to be. But this is never going to happen Travis and we both have to accept that.”

“You don’t know that, I mean you can’t just give up. I can’t do this without you.”

“You gave up on us a long time ago. And yes, you can. You’ve done it before. Just this time, I’m going to be the one who walks away.”

“Y/N…”

You stepped towards and took his hands in yours as you leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheeks. As you pulled away you placed something into his palms.

“Goodbye, Travis”

You stepped back towards your car as he looked down at his hands.

The little velvet box with your engagement ring.

And he knew that this was it.

Game over.

 ------------------------------------

The rest of the school year passed quickly and soon summer came around. You had been so busy teaching and helping Maddie with the wedding, time had flown by quickly. You hadn’t seen Travis again and you felt yourself heal again. You knew that there would always be a piece of you that would never be over him. A little piece of your heart would belong to him. But slowly you came to terms with the fact the the rest of your heart wouldn’t.

It was mid July now and Maddie’s wedding was finally here. You had been busy all weekend and you finally felt yourself able to relax as you were sitting in a chair getting your make up done.

“He’s gonna be here. He’s invited.” Maddie glanced over her shoulder towards you as her hairstylist send her a glare for moving around.

“I know Maddie, I’ll be fine.” You weren’t sure if that was actually true but at least you could try to make yourself believe that. Maddie didn’t comment on that but you were sure that she wasn’t really believing you.

The ceremony was drawing closer as you helped with Maddie’s dress and later slipped into your dress as well.

Eventually there was a knock on the door from Kevin, who was picking you up to walk you downstairs to the ceremony. He offered to be your date. He was one of the only single guys that you knew and you were sure that I wouldn’t hurt to have him by your side.

“Ahh, of you’re you look absolutely beautiful.” He gave you a beaming smile as he escorted you to the down the stairs and outside.

“You look sharp too, Kev. A real suit guy.” You winked at him as his booming laugh shook his body.

“Okay, calm down with that roasting.” He wasn’t really serious though, he loved when you chirped him.

“When your big day coming anyway? Ever gonna settle down?” Your eyes glinted, you knew how much he wanted to get married and have kids.

He just scoffed before replying,

“Yeah, yeah. One day I will find the right girl, you just wait.”

You started to mix with other guest as more people were drawing in, since the ceremony was coming closer. You spoke to some of the guys, found Nolan and Kelsey before going of to the side the catch some air.

You overlooked the seats and the aisle leading towards a little podium and you felt that heartache again. You just couldn’t quiet shake that wedding sadness. You were lost in thought when you felt someone approaching.  

You knew it was him behind you before you even turned around. The two of you had seemingly always had that. That special connection. That buzzing feeling you would get if he was close to you. The way you would always find each other in a crowded room. Like two magnets pulling towards each other.

And knowing that you would never get that with anyone else, ever, made your heart feel heavy. Travis had always been the one for you and no matter how hard you tried nobody could ever take his spot. You could love someone, yes. You could even see yourself spend your life with someone. But this person could never be him. They would never be able to make you feel what he did. You could never get that special connection, that buzzing feeling with anyone else, ever.

“I’m sure you’ve already been told but… You look stunning, Y/N!” He stepped beside you while you turned to face him. He was dressed in your favourite navy suit and a crisp white dress shirt. He wasn’t wearing a tie, the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned instead. He gave you a shy smile. One that told you that he wasn’t entirely sure whether he just stepped over a line or not.

“Thank you. You don’t look to bad yourself, Travis.” An you meant it. He did look good. Better than he had in months. The bags under his eyes had disappeared, he looked younger now. More like his actual age. And there was a glint in his eyes. The sparkle that you used to love so much.

He stayed silent for a bit. You could see he was deep in thought, somewhere else even though physically he was beside you.  Just when you got used to the silence between you two, he spoke up again.

“You were right. We’re not the same people we once were. And we never will be. We will never be the Y/N and Travis we once were. And we will never be the couple we were then. People change and people grow. You’re not the same person at 20 than you were at 17. And you’re not the same person now than what you were at 20. And I just know that the person that I am now loves you just as much as the person I was at 20. Or the boy I was at 17. And I know that I will still love you when I’m 40. Or 70. I will never stop loving you, Y/N.”

He took a deep breath, trying to sort the words that were swirling around in his head into a sentence. His little speech left you breathless. You were sure he had been thinking about this for weeks. And he was right, people do change and people grow. But that doesn’t always mean that people grow in the same direction.

“I’ve always wanted this, you know?” He was gesturing around him. “Since I met you I knew that you were the one for me. That you were the one I was going to marry one day. You were the person I wanted to have kids with. I wanted this life for us so bad, I lost sight of us. I lost myself and the person I used to be. And when I realised that I felt like I had already pushed you into it. So I did the only thing I knew. I ran.”

Your heart felt heavy and looking at him wasn’t helping. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were trained on the ground but you could see the glazing over his eyes. He was close to tears and this truly hit home to you.

He had told you so many times that he didn’t intent to hurt you but you never believed him, how could you? But now you understood that he truly thought it was the only way. That he had already pushed you too far into the cage to retrack what he had done. That the only way to keep you from losing your freedom was to let you go. To leave the cage open and walk away.

He got it all wrong though. Because you didn’t feel like he was putting you in a cage or clipping your wings.

“I wanted to marry you, Travis. You weren’t pressuring me into it.” He had to know that, the last thing you wanted was for him to carry that guilt around.

He finally turned his gaze towards you and looked you in the eyes. His lips were pressed into a pained line.

“I know. I know that now.” His eyes searched for yours before he slowly took a step towards you.

He brushed a hair out of your face before giving you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Enjoy the wedding. I might see you later.”  

The gesture was so sweet, so intimate. It felt so domestic, like something he would do everyday. A painful thought crossed your brain then. It felt so domestic because he used to do it everyday.

“You ruined weddings for me.” You didn’t mean to say those words out loud, you weren’t even consciously thinking them and to be honest you thought he was out of earshot already. But he stopped in his track and turned back to you. You didn’t dare to fully turn around, only just looking over your shoulder.

“I’ve ruined a lot of things for you, Y/N. I wish I could undo it.” And with that he vanished into the crowd.

You endured the ceremony. Well maybe that’s a bit harsh. You were happy for Maddie and Provy and the ceremony was incredibly beautiful. But you couldn’t help the bitter taste in your mouth. This should have been Travis and you, 3 years ago.

You let the wedding pass over you, you enjoyed hanging out with the team, catching up with the girls, you even let Kevin drag you to the dance floor.

You tiredly let yourself fall into a chair besides Kevin. You followed his gaze to another table. Travis was sitting there, seemingly without much company. You didn’t know whether he had  a date or not but by the looks of it was he here by himself. Kevin must have noticed that you were looking at Travis.

“If you’re ever going to forgive him and give him another chance, might as well do it now. I know he will wait for you for as long as you want but… you never know how long someone is going to stay in your life. Take it from someone who had both parents go through cancer and nearly lost a leg, okay? Life won’t wait around for you. Don’t let it pass you by.”

With that he rose from his chair beside you. You wanted to make some funny remark about him being all poetic and shit but he had already made his way towards the bar. You followed his advice non the less and made your way towards Travis.

“This seat taken?” He nearly fell off his chair once he realised who asked the question.

“Of course! Uh, I mean, no it’s not taken.” You chuckled at him stumbling over those words. You sat down.

“You seem lonely, no date?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. Was this to much? Did you step over a line? Travis seemed to relax himself and smiled.

“Ah haha, yeah no date. You came with Kevin?” It was nonchalant but you knew the deeper meaning behind his question.

“Yeah, always better to come with a friend than alone, you know.”

He nodded agreeingly before an uncomfortable silence fell between the two of you.

The songs were a slower than before which meant they weren’t as tiring as before. And before you could stop yourself your suggestion had already crossed your lips.

“Do you wanna dance?”  

An immediate smile spread across Travis’ face. “Yeah, of course. I mean if that’s what you want.”

You laughed quietly and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that. Just don’t step on my feet.”

“I try my best.”

For a bit the two of you swayed quietly to the music. It was already rather late so there weren’t to may people on the dance floor. The song changed and you let out a dry laugh as you realised what song had come on. Travis must have notice your reaction too.

“What?” He looked confused. “What’s funny.”

“Nothing, just the song.” He stilled and listened to the music. It was a Lewis Capaldi song. And it hit closer to home than you liked.

I've been holding on to hope That you'll come back when you can find some peace 'Cause every word that I've heard spoken Since you left feels like an hollow street

 The song perfectly seemed to portray you and Travis. You felt your emotion dwelling up, as you heard the next verse.

I've been told, I've been told to get you off my mind But I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind Oh my lord, oh my lord, I need you by my side

 You let out a choked laugh. “I wish I could get you off my mind, but I can’t. Part of me will always be yours, Trav.” You gave him small smile before singing that verse again as it was repeated.

“I've been told, I've been told to get you off my mind, but I hope I never lose the bruises that you left behind. Oh my lord, oh my lord, I need you by my side.”

Travis seemed to understand your involvement with the lyrics as he gave you a sad smile.

“I was such a coward. I’m sorry Y/N.” He brushed a tear away that had started to roll down your cheek. “I should have fought for us, instead I gave up on us. I thought that the only way to give you the freedom I promised you, was to let go of you, to leave you. I was too much of a coward to let you fly free, because I thought you’d slip away and then I lost you anyway. I know you wanted to get married too but I should have never put that much pressure on it. I’m truly sorry.”

You leaned you forehead against his as you still slowly moved with the music. The song had changed now.

“I know Trav. I know. Do you think that one day we can be Y/N and Travis again? I mean not the same as we used to but a grown version. Do you think it could work again?”

You could hear Travis holding his breath as he patiently listened to you. His eyes were trained on yours, searching for meaning behind your words.

“Yeah, I think so. If you give me another chance I will prove it to you. Okay?”

You felt your heart speeding up at his words. Take a chance, you thought, before life passes you by. But instead of answering you leaned in and slowly connected your lips with his. The kiss was slow almost shy at first before Travis started to deepen it. Once you broke apart Travis slowly stroked your cheek before murmuring,

“You’re my always, you know that right?”

 Epilogue:

The two of you took it slow afterwards. Both of you needed to get to know each other again, ease into each other again. But it felt right. Being with Travis had always felt right. Once your lease was up you move in with him and you were thankful that he wasn’t living in your old house anymore. As much as you loved your old place that you had together and all the memories that came with it, you needed something else. After all you weren’t the people that you used to be then. And that was a good thing.

He never asked you to marry him. One day a little box with an new engagement ring had just been placed onto your nightstand. Travis only comment to this was that he had already proposed to you and that this time you were calling the shots when you felt ready to marry him. And whenever you felt ready the ring would be there. He let the old engagement ring be made into a pendant since it was to meaningful to your relationship to give it away and to pretty to just let it sit in a box. And now you were wearing one around your finger and one around your neck, close to your heart as Travis liked to say.

And then the day was here. You knew you were ready but that didn’t mean that you weren’t feeling a tiny bit anxious about your wedding day.

Maddie looked over your shoulder and soothingly rubbed your back.

“You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.” She gave you one of her bright smiles.

You quietly laughed. “As if Maddie. You looked like some top model or something at your wedding. But I’ll gladly take second.”

Maddie erupted in laughter while you gave her a sly smile. Her expression turned serious again as she eyed the object in your hands.

“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually, Y/N.”

She was right, of course. And you knew you had to tell him sooner or later. You couldn’t keep it from him forever.

“I’ll go and get you something to drink, some water or something.” Maddie gave you a soft smile before making her way to the door. Just before she closed the door behind her you heard her say:

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here now…”

You felt like your heart stopped beating for a moment. An unwanted flashback crossed your brain.

The mental picture of Nolan making his way towards you with that cautious expression on his face.

“He’s not coming, Y/N.”  Those words would probably haunt you forever.

Just as you felt yourself starting to panic Travis appeared in the doorway and quickly closed the door behind him.

“Travis?!” You probably looked like you just saw the lochness monster or something. What was he even doing here?

He approached you with a sly smile on his face.

“Hey, babe.” “You’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony..” Your words lacked any kind of force or enthusiasm. And before you knew your soon to be husband had engulfed you in a hug.

“What? Who said that?” His voice was light, almost joking.

“It brings bad luck or misfortune if the groom sees the bride before the ceremony.” Your explanation sounded lame and you were actually happy to see him even if your initial surprise might let him believe otherwise.

He chuckled before giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “Ahh, that sounds pretty stupid. And you can’t blame me for wanting to say good morning to my wife.”

His eyes searched for yours while he gave you his brightest smile. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics. Then you remembered the object you’d held in your hands just a few moments before and you got serious again. Now was as good of a moment than ever.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” You felt yourself grow nervous, you knew there was no reason for it but you couldn’t help it.

“Don’t tell me you want to run away this time.” He was joking, a smirk plastered all over his face.

“Travis I’m serious!” At that his smile dropped. Uncertainty crossed his features.

You grabbed the little square paper you had put down moments ago.

“I’m pregnant.” You breathed out while handing him the ultrasound. His eyes nearly popped out of his head while he stared at the picture.

“I.. I … You..” He seemed lost for words and you were almost starting to get worried when he lifted him head up and looked into your eyes. He seemed to explode with happiness.

“I’m going to be a dad? This is not a joke right? We’re having a baby?” You could just nod as he picked you up and spun you around.

“Oh my god, this is the best day of my life.” He nearly knocked his head with yours as he dove in to give you a deep kiss. Once you pulled apart and you found your breath you spoke up.

“Promise me something, Travis. Promise me you won’t run again. Promise me that you’ll fight for us no matter what we face. Don’t ever let me go again, Trav.”

“Never! I promise.”

~ the end ~  

[mandoalorian]

Office Surprise [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT

Authors note: Credit goes to one of my besties for coming up with this idea— I hope I executed it alright. Also I wrote this all in one sitting so apologies if it’s a bit muddled, I think it should be okay though. Maxwell and the reader have a pre-existing relationship and it’s inferred that they’ve dated for quite a long while. 

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT | oral (f receiving), use of toys, unprotected p in v, slight praise k!nk/degradation, a little rough, slight dom/sub dynamic if you squint, choking.

Word count: 5k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @ah-callie​ @luvzoria​ @stardust-galaxies​ @wickedfrsgrl​ @goth-topic​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first​ @pedroepascal​

Masterlist

Being the girlfriend of Maxwell Lord certainly wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but as you swiped his platinum black Amex card at the Victoria Secret cashier, you recognised it had its privileges. What did he expect you to do? Sit at home all day reading interior design magazines and baking desserts? No. You were bored. Maxwell had come home every night and complained about his long hard week at work but you knew it couldn’t be as boring as sitting alone in his enormous DC house. It got so incredibly lonely.

You planned on travelling to the city anyways today; to get some final Christmas presents for your friends. And Maxwell’s office just so happened to be located in the city centre and so you figured it would only be polite to pay him a little visit. After all, he surely couldn’t be too busy to see you. You had his driver drop you off and pick you up from the different shops. You had been dating Maxwell long enough to understand the way his mind worked. If you wanted to visit him during one of his busiest work weeks, you’d have to give him a reason to make you want to stay.

You had visited his office plenty of times before. He’d greet you with the same surprised smile and elation in his eyes, but it wouldn’t be long until he put his head back down and ignored you for his work, humming whenever you tried speaking to him and only ever vaguely listening. As Maxwell’s driver took you to your next store of choice, you let your mind ponder ways you could really grab his full attention.

You wanted to have fun. The more your mind raced, the more you wanted to make your visit unforgettable. And that’s when your idea to visit Victoria Secret came to you. You hadn’t been to the store in a while, smiling pleasantly when you were greeted with a happy employee wearing a santa hat. Pulling down your sunglasses in hope she didn’t recognise you, you offered her a smile. “We have our new Christmas range in stock.” she grinned cheerily.

“Take me to it, please,” you replied and the employee nodded excitedly, guiding you through the aisles.

“A lot of red lingerie sets this year.” She held her arms out, showing you the variety. One pieces, two pieces, full blown costumes. One set in particular caught your eye… a lacy number with a small silk ribbon. It was like nothing you owned before and you knew how much Maxwell liked the colour red on you. You took it from the rack. “An excellent choice!” the store assistant beamed. You were ready to pay and leave but then she opened her mouth again. “We have a new range of toys too!” 

Toys? That could be interesting.

Before you knew it, you were in the back of the black limousine, frantically changing out of your clothes and into your newly purchased lingerie. It only took a few minutes for the driver to pull up outside Black Gold Cooperative. You fastened your heels and tied the belt around your knee length crimson coloured coat before stepping out of the car. 

You practically yelped as the cold winter air stung your skin. You weren’t sure how great of an idea it was, to visit Maxwell wearing nothing but lingerie and his favourite coat, but it was too late to have any regrets now. With a confident smile, you pulled off your sunglasses and entered the building through the rotating glass doors.

Maxwell’s assistant and receptionist, both intern age blonde girls, greeted you with a snarl. “You- you aren’t supposed to be here!” His assistant pointed an accusing finger at you. “Mr Lord is fully booked up today and you haven’t made an appointment!” 

“Give me a break,” you rolled your eyes, storming over to the elevator, your heels clicking against the marble floor. You knew they envied you for being the girlfriend of the richest man in America but you didn’t care enough to give them the time of day.

You entered the elevator and let it take you to the very top floor; where Maxwell’s office was.

"Oh hey, look who it is." Bradley Huntington, acting sales manager of Black Gold Cooperative smiled as you stepped out the elevator. Two men who were standing alongside him turned to face you, their jaw dropping slightly as they drunk in your appearance. You refrained from shooting them an eye roll— the men here had absolutely no shame. They wanted you to know that they were watching you.

"Hi boys." you replied with a faux politeness, your ruby red lips curling into a returning smile. "What are you doing out here, chatting by the coffee machine?" you raised a curious eyebrow. "Maxwell going easy on your workload?" You didn't care, you didn't snoop your nose in your boyfriend's business, but you did enjoy pretending like you had some kind of authority as his partner. It was fun to see these slimy grown men panic at your words.

"On a break," Bradley replied plainly, his smirk only growing as he took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. "I don't see you around here much anyway. Was beginning to wonder if you had gotten sick of that old grump and made a run for it." he chuckled, dropping a hand to his hip and pointing his finger at the double doors behind him that lead into Maxwell Lord's office.

You shot him a sweet little giggle, as if to trick him into thinking his flirtations were working. "Leave Maxie?" you laughed. "That cutie wouldn't have a clue what to do without me!" you exclaimed, the wicked smile not leaving your lips for one second. "Now if you excuse me…" you went to enter Maxwell's office but a comment made by Bradley made you pause in your tracks.

"Sweetheart," he laughed. "You belong on MTV, not in an office building or cooped up in Maxwell's bedroom."

"Isn't he Mr Lord to you?" you shot back with a snarl, the smile slipping from his face only momentarily. You grinned when you saw the panic wash over him, his face turning pale with nerves.

"Uh actually- me and Mr Lord- me and Maxwell, are good friends. We're on first name basis." Bradley fumbled out. You wanted to laugh at his lame attempt of a smooth recovery. You knew that wasn't true at all.

"Good friends huh?" you folded your arms across your chest.

"Mm," Bradley mumbled, stepping closer to you and placing his hand over your coat. "Take your coat off, you must be hot." You felt your heart jump and a sickness bubble up in your stomach. Bradley really was slimy.

"I'm good." you shot back. Bradley shrugged and reached down to the belt that was holding your coat together. He slowly leaned into you and you quickly pushed him off you. Bradley stumbled back into an abundance of chairs, knocking a few over in the process.

"Darling?" You felt your heart rate increase speed when you heard your boyfriend's voice. Your head turned to face Maxwell who was standing by his office door, scowling. You looked back at Bradley who's colour had completely drained out of his face and you beamed.

"Maxie!" you smiled, walking over to your boyfriend and protectively placing a hand under his suit jacket and setting place on his chest. His scowl didn't move from Bradley as he slid an arm around your waist, holding you tight.

"Thought I could hear your voice," Maxwell whispered in your ear causing a frenzy of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. "What are you doing here?"

"Just came to catch up with your friends." you teased. Maxwell lifted a curious eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he quizzed, beginning to feel irritated by the presence of his employees, and even more annoyed by the lilt in your voice that suggested you wanted to play with him.  "I hope Bradley wasn't causing any fuss." Maxwell raised his voice and Bradley shook his head furiously.

"N-no sir, not at all." Bradley said quickly, offering the CEO a nervous smile. You bit your lip and gently tugged on Maxwell's tie.

"Baby," you whined out, looking up at him through your fluttering eyelashes. "Can we go into your office?" you asked sweetly. Maxwell finally tore his eyes from an anxious Bradley and smiled down at you.

"Of course darling." he replied, ushering you through the door.

"Bye boys! Behave!" you called, shooting them one last smirk.

"Alright come on now." Maxwell sighed, placing his hand into the small of your back and pushing you into his office.

You padded into his huge office, placing your purse and shopping bags down on one of the chairs. Before Maxwell entered, he made sure to shoot Bradley one final death glare. Maxwell locked the double doors and turned around. He grabbed you by the collar of your red coat and pinned you to the door, pressing his lips against yours passionately. In fact, so passionately, you wondered if his harshness would leave a bruise. He bit down on your lower lip, his hand snapping ahold of your neck causing a small gasp escape your lips. Maxwell pulled away, his breathing heavy against your skin. "What happened?" he gritted out, looking up at you with lust-blown eyes.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him off you, walking away from where he had pinned you against the door. "Nothing, just your sleazy coworkers not knowing when to give up." you rolled your eyes, checking your appearance in the mirror and fixing your lipstick as it had smudged from the kiss.

"Bradley," Maxwell exhaled, his eye contact not breaking from you once. "Did he touch you?"

"Enough to make me uncomfortable? Yes. But I got him off me. I can handle myself, Maxie." you sighed, fixing your hair and turning back to your boyfriend.

"I know you can," Maxwell said lowly, slowly approaching you. You recognised that primal glint lighting up in his eyes and you smiled. "What did he say to you?"

"Said I shouldn't spend all day cooped up at home, or here, in your office. He said I was pretty enough to be on MTV." you beamed proudly and Maxwell grunted, nodding slowly. He placed a hand, cupping your face and rubbed his thumb along the high of your cheekbones.

"He must've been feeling bold, hitting on you like that." Maxwell tutted. You nuzzled your face into his hand, the coolness of his gold rings making you wince only slightly.

"What do you think Maxie?" you asked, your voice as sweet as honey. "Am I pretty enough to be on television?" you let your hands pull off his suit jacket and roam over his white button down shirt, tugging teasingly at his suspenders as you waited for a response.

But Maxwell didn't stay a word. He looked down at you with his lust-blown eyes and ran his thumb over the plumpless of your lower lip. You parted your mouth, taking his finger and sucking on the digit. Maxwell mewled as he watched you intently, admiring the work of your mouth. You pulled your lips away from his finger with a pop and beamed proudly when you saw the slight blush that crossed his face.

"I think you show up at my work uninvited, dressed like that, flirting with my employees…" he scowled, his gaze not lifting from you once. You wanted to fight him for accusing you of flirting with other men, but you knew him. And he knew you. He knew you would always be faithful; he was just playing a game. Another one of Maxwell Lord's twisted games that you had grown accustomed too. He had that look in his eye— the one you were all too familiar with. It was almost predatory. He tsked, shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle. "Look at you, here, in my office, thinking you can call the shots. I'm busy darling, go home."

"Oh," you hummed, biting your lip and twiddling with your hair. "Because if you're too busy... Bradley offered me-" Your lilt was teasing and you could tell it was making him feel defensive. You knew how protective he got over you.

"What?" Maxwell sneered, his hand dropping to the belt that held your coat together.

You gulped, knowing that if he just tugged a little harder on the belt, your little surprise for him would be revealed. "He- uhm, he-"

"C'mon honey, spit it out." Maxwell smirked, loving the jumbled reaction he was getting out of you, although he was unsure why you were suddenly so nervous when you had walked into his office so confidently. His hands didn't leave your belt and you took a deep breath, looking up at him and into his eyes.

"Said that if I ever get bored of you, I know where to find him." You pursed your lips together and shot him a devilish smile.

"Tell me darling," Maxwell hummed, his hand once again reaching up to your face, his finger brushing over your lips. "What urged you to come to my office in the middle of the day when you know I'm swarmed with work?" he narrowed his eyes.

"I got bored." you admitted sheepishly, swaying your hips from side to side.

"So you come to my work… act like a brat and…" Maxwell paused when he saw you pout. "What?"

"I didn't do anything wrong Maxie." you whined. "Was all them. Was all Bradley." 

"You have everything at home. Everything you need to keep you occupied." Maxwell glanced over at your shopping bags that were on his chair. "Spending my money?" Maxwell asked and you nodded shyly.

"But I think you'll like it." you told him, biting your lip.

"Show me."

You placed his hands back on the belt of your coat. "See for yourself." you whispered with a smirk.

Taking the hint, Maxwell slowly tugged on your belt that was tying your coat together. Coming loose, your coat opened up, revealing the lace red lingerie set you were doting, and nothing else. Maxwell's gaze fell from your face to your body as he revelled in the gorgeous sight that stood before him. You stood there in silence for a few seconds, as he drunk in every inch of your body.

"You've been wearing that this whole time?" Maxwell swallowed, staring at your tits. Finally he brought himself to look up at your face, taking a deep breath and straightening his posture. "While you were talking to Brad-"

"Max please," you rolled your eyes, shuffling out of the coat and letting it drop to the floor.

"I've never seen it before." Maxwell admitted.

"It's new," you told him, taking a step closer and pulling off his suit jacket, letting it pool on the floor alongside your winter coat. "Got it for you. You like it?" you smiled, twirling around and giving him a little dance. Your heels clicked against the marble floor as you spun around for him. Maxwell didn't say anything, but if the bulge in his tailored pants was anything to go off… you giggled. "Oh Maxie, you do like it."

Maxwell cleared his throat. "Whilst you do look ravishing, I am busy so-" 

"But I wasn't finished showing you what I bought." you poured, blinking your doe-like eyes and folding your arms over your chest, the lace grazing your skin.

Maxwell shook his head and walked back over to his desk, sinking into his office chair. He cursed under his breath as he began to palm himself under his desk knowing you wouldn't be able to see. He looked down at the abundance of papers, trying to concentrate, but it wasn't working. Giving in, he looked back over to you.

You were bent over, rummaging through one of your shopping bags in search of something. Your legs were spaced apart so perfectly, Maxwell knew you must've been doing it on purpose— to tease him. His eyes felt heavy as he watched you, his fingers grazing over his throbbing length. He felt so restricted, so confined… but he didn't want to give you the liberty of knowing what you had done to him. When he saw you straighten yourself back up, he looked back down at the stack of papers on his desk. 

You picked out a long black box with no markings, and placed it before Maxwell on his desk. Maxwell looked up at you, waiting for an explanation. "What is it?" he asked and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Open it." you urged with a smile. Maxwell hesitated, his gaze wandering to the locked door, back to you, and then down at the matte box. He carefully undone the ribbon that wrapped it and opened the lid. Rummaging amongst the tissue, his eyes glinted with desire and wicked delight upon finding what you had bought. He couldn't help but smirk. "Well?" you cooed, perching yourself on the corner of your desk.

Maxwell nodded, not saying a word. He took the purple vibrator out of the box and put it down on the desk next to his stationary. "This couldn't have waited until I got home?" he quizzed, his voice breaking slightly. You grinned and shook your head. "I see."

"Am I in trouble?" you pouted and Maxwell's smirk grew. He pushed the papers and the stationary from his desk, clearing it of room.

"Lie down." he demanded and you squealed excitedly. You reached down to your feet to unclip your heels when Maxwell brought his hand to your neck. "No. Keep them on." he ordered sternly. You bit your lip and nodded, obeying his request. His large hand still wrapped around your neck, he carefully pushed you into the table.

The coolness of the expensive oak made you squirm. Maxwell walked around his desk, grabbing your legs and dragging your body further down closer to him. He spread them apart and began to kiss along your thighs. "I do love this colour on you." he mumbled into your skin, his fingers gracing your soaked core through the red lace. You shivered under his touch and you swore you could feel his smirk press into your skin.

"I know." you admitted with a shaky exhale. He wasted no time teasing. He thought it was only fair he got a little payback. The curve of his nose nudged against your clit as he pressed soft kisses into your cunt.

You brought your hands down to your panties in attempt to wriggle them off and free yourself but Maxwell's large ring clad hands stopped you. "Patience." he muttered and you let out a whine as he licked you through the material.

"Please," you begged, your toes curling with pleasure as he kisses around your entrance. 

"I thought you bought this lingerie for me, baby," Maxwell chuckled, his warm breath going straight through your core.

"I did." you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as he continued to kiss and lick.

"So let me enjoy it," he growled, lifting his head up from between your legs and fumbling with the little red bow at the top of your panties. "It's cute." Maxwell smiled and you felt your cheeks heat up. He pulled your legs further down and you wrapped them around his waist as he leaned over your body.

Hovering over you, he pressed a soft kiss into your neck and began to palm at your breast, running his thumb over your hardening nipple as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You brought your hands up to his hair and laced your fingers in his dark blonde locks, tugging on it just the way you knew he liked. You wondered if he was going to even take your bra off; heck— you wondered if he was going to take his own clothes off. He was standing over you in his suit pants and white work shirt, although the tie and the suspenders had been ditched.

You were breathless when Maxwell pulled away from your lips and his hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing gently. The pressure made you gasp out a soft moan as he brought his kisses down your neck and along your collarbones, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach until his head was positioned back in between your legs.

"You're exquisite." Maxwell sighed, raking in his view.  He pressed his middle finger and index finger into your core, feeling how damp your panties already were. "All for me?" he cooed, his brown eyes sparkling with delight. He switched over to his thumb where he began to rub your clit. "Such a good girl." he praised, beginning to tear away your new underwear from your body.

Pretty soon, your red panties were thrown aimlessly on the floor along with Maxwell's suit jacket and your winter coat and Maxwell wasted no time into latching his mouth onto your pussy. You practically screamed at the way his tongue worked within you, lapping up all your arousal like he hadn't had a decent meal in his life. "Hungry?" you joked breathlessly. Not in the mood, Maxwell didn't unattach his lips from you but he did insert two of his fingers without warning. You found yourself arching your back, moaning wantonly as he worked through your core. His groans as he sucked on your clit left vibrations rifle through your body as his fingers pounded inside of you. Obscene wet sounds echoed through his office as a result from his actions.

You dug your heels into his back and felt your legs start to shake uncontrollably as his movements became faster and more intense. His hands grabbed your thighs as he tried to steady you but it was barely any use. Seeing that you were close, he kept up his stamina until your climax ripped through your body, soaking his lips dripping down his chin. When he pulled away, you felt yourself blush at the state he was in. His hair had fallen out of place and his face was glistening with a mixture of his sweat and your juices.

Maxwell unclipped his gold cufflinks, tossing them on the floor and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. Just as you were about to thank him, his hand reached over to the vibrator. "M-Max," you tried to protest as he flicked the switch. It began to buzz erratically and he spent a few moments accustoming himself to the different speeds and pressures. "Max." you wriggled, trying to sit up, but he pushed you back down, hushing you. The least he could do was wait until you had recovered from your first orgasm, but no. He pressed the vibrator to your clit casually and another gasp tore through you. "Max!" you yelled and he chuckled.

"I like this one." he grinned, adjusting the speed and watching you toss and turn on his desk.

"Fuck, Max," you yelped, your fingers curling into a fist as you began to feel that familiar warmth in your stomach signifying that you were close.

"Aw, you going to cum again?" Maxwell chuckled, turning up the speed to the highest setting. "Look at you, all spread out on my desk screaming my name."

Your vision became hazy and your eyes snapped shut as your orgasm hit you leaving you dizzy and panting. Maxwell shut off the vibrator and tossed it to one side. You groaned, holding your face in your hands as you came down your high. Maxwell stared at you, all messed up on his desk, and he couldn't rid himself of his smile.

You looked down to see his damage. "Oh Maxie," you whimpered, reaching your hands out when you saw the bulge stretching out his tailored pants. You sat upright and Maxwell gave you a small kiss on the head. "Let me help you." you whispered, moving your hands to his zipper but he swatted them away. You looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows as he tsked you. "Maxwell Lord denying head?" you scoffed, reaching back out to his pants. Your fingers only slightly brushed over his length but it was enough to make him shudder. He pushed you back into the oak desk for a third time.

"Stay." he commanded, his voice gruff as he ran his fingers through his hair and pushed his locks out of his face. His eyes were practically black as he examined you, pushing apart your legs and running his fingers along your dripping folds.

"Stop- teasing-" you growled, tossing your head back. "You- you've already got two orgasms out of me."

"And I know I can get one more." Maxwell snarled, unzipping his pants and pulling out his rock hard length. He collected the beads of his precum and rubbed it over his throbbing cock, just the gentlest of strokes almost pushing him over the edge.

You were too busy staring at the pretty gold pattern in the ceiling, a feeling of pure blissed out euphoria washed over your spent body, when you felt your boyfriend's cock push between your entrance. "How's this?" Maxwell grunted as he snapped his hips deep inside of you. "Could Bradley do this?"

You curled your hands into a fist as he thrust deep inside of you, repeating his movements hard and fast with no mercy. "Sh- shut upppp." you whined, grabbing onto his biceps as he pushed his body over yours to hit at a deeper angle. He laughed and pressed his hand into your throat once more.

"Ngh- so pretty," he cursed under his breath. You closed your eyes. "Look at me," he hissed, and you obliged as he proceeded to fuck the life out of you. "So good to me." he praised.

"Max," you wailed as his cock pressed into your sweet spot.

"Is that good for you?" he bit his lip, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you were sure it would leave marks.

"Mhmmm," You agreed. "Maxxxxx."

"Yeah baby?"  the use of his little names for you only riled you on more and eventually he felt your walls squeeze around his cock as you came undone.

"I want you to cum in me," you begged, your eyes glossy and pleading as your final orgasm washed over you.

"Will you promise to me a good girl?" he asked you and you squirmed under his praise.

"I'm always a good girl," you breathed out. "Always good for you Maxie."

"Yeah," Maxwell moaned, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He pressed a sloppy kiss into your neck and pushed deep into you, biting his teeth into the skin of your jaw. With one final hard thrust he was spilling inside of you.

Maxwell steadied himself, his cock softening inside of you until eventually it slipped out. You moaned at the loss of the fullness and he shuddered, quickly tucking himself back into his pants and zipping himself up. It only took a few seconds for him to notice his cum leaking from your pussy. With shaky legs, he padded to the drawer under his desk, unlocking it and taking out some silk handkerchiefs. He opened your legs gently and began to clean you up with the utmost care and affection.

"How do you feel?" he whispered into the shell of your ear, discarding the handkerchief when he was finished. He helped you sit upright and pulled you onto his lap, smoothing out your hair.

"Tired," you whispered, nuzzling your face into his chest. He kissed your forehead and wrapped his arms around your practically naked body, his strong arms holding you still and steady.

"I get off in three hours, why don't you take a nap on my sofa and then we can go home together?" Maxwell suggested.

"Mmm," you smiled, closing your eyes. "Or I could just stay here. Like this? But oh- you have that meeting…" you sighed. You went to stand up but Maxwell's grip around you tightened.

"Darling, stay here," you cooed. "I can cancel the meeting. It is my company after all. Besides, I'd rather be here with you."

You felt yourself blush. "You know Maxie, I do love you. So much." 

"I know," Maxwell answered, his voice unrecognisably soft. "I love you too." He didn't say those three words often, but you knew that deep down he meant it. He loved you. "Oh, and thanks for the surprise."