#But I feel confident I can get you close enough to pass inspection

[theriu]

If I were faced with a WIP full of misplaced commas, I would simply put all the commas in the correct places. RIP to other editors and writers but I’m different.

[flowering-thought]

Another one ;-;

I be sobbing to my drafts to forgive me for the cod brainrot

Part three here we go- and let it be known I don't usually post this frequently, but the brainrot is hella bad this time-

Masterlist

WARNING - MINORS DNI

AFAB reader and reader is described as feminine and chubby/plus sized.

Yandere themes, obsessive behavior, hints at stalking, alluded body image issues

Cod Psych Ward Unit × Reader

The next morning, there was a group of men waiting around for you while choking down the slop they called breakfast.

Ghost was honestly worried that after that scolding you got, he and Price discussed it after you left, a light fear spread across the unit that they would only get one nice day in that hellhole and that was it.

Graves was agitated ever since, pacing through the common area which only made Konig more anxious. What if you didn't come back? Or worse what if you came back but didn't interact with them?? Or what if you don't try to get close to him cause he didn't participate in uno on your first day shift?

All of them were a slight wreck till they heard you checking in at the front desk, multiple tote bags with random patterns or cute creatures printed on them hanging off your arms, you had a big smile as each item made it past the inspection from the front desk.

Once you made it past the front desk, you passed by the fuming head nurse and gave her a wink before you headed to the break room to put away your things.

All the boys saw was the head nurse stomp off to her office before you came back, an expression of pure glee as you plopped a couple bags on a table and called everyone close.

You began pulling out a couple games, a chess set, Jenga, a few card games. You chose simple games that you knew would be fine past the checkpoint.

You brought some adult coloring books that would be fine to color with crayons since they were practically the only thing not sharp enough to stab someone with.

You already stored the snacks away in your locker. You then brought out the fidget toys, some soft and squishy that you already took out of their packaging. You liked squeezing them but also knew better than to show that in front of the boys and laid them out on the table, the next ones were flips and switches attached to cubes that one could mess with.

You smiled as you showed the haul and folded up your tote bags.

"So here's the haul. A few games and things to color in but it's better than the sad deck of Uno cards and regular playing cards you have." You say, taking a seat at the table, getting comfy in your seat.

"Oh and I bought enough of these squishy things and stuff for one each but if you aren't interested you can just keep it in the common area. But if you really like one feel free to take it back to your room. It helps to have something in your hands instead of picking at skin and stuff hm?"

Most of the boys immediately went for Jenga, going straight to shit-talking but some stayed back and observed some of the things you brought.

While you got busy with Soap, Gaz, and Graves who started going on about how they were great at Jenga cause of their skilled finger strength. Some passes were made that you brushed off easily.

Ghost was near Konig who was preoccupied with the cube that had buttons and switches, his leg shaking far less aggressive, only slightly tapping his foot while he played with the cube. Ghost tho had his eyes on something else, the tote bags you brought in.

There were cute characters splayed on the front, the fabric simple and plain. When he knew you weren't looking he brought it up to his nose, the familiar scent he noticed you usually wore more prominent on the bag.

Part of him felt guilty for finding the smell so satisfying but he liked how it felt like you were close in his arms despite knowing you aren't allowed to get too close to them.

Konig noticed, slowly reaching for the last tote bag left. A small smile reached his features at the cute creature on the bag.

He didn't have the confidence to straight out smell it like Ghost so he remained quiet and watched as you scolded Soap at the table for trying to mess Graves up in Jenga.

Horangi sat down with the boys holding the tote bags, followed by Nikolai and Price.

They sat there silently, watching you play Jenga with the others.

Nikolai was the first to bring something up, "She's very kind. Are you sure she wasn't planted here?" He asked, making Ghost freeze and Konig mess with the buttons faster.

Price nodded as he drummed his fingers against the table. "I'm sure. There's more staff that don't know about us than the ones that do." He said, his eyes focused on you while he spoke, "I even asked them for newspaper and they brought me a variety, even one straight from London. If she had the slightest clue who we were I don't think she would let her guard down this much." Price added.

Nikolai nodded at his reasoning, Horangi leaning his arms on the table to support himself before speaking, "Anything in those papers that can get us out of here?" He asked. Price shook his head and let out a sigh.

"Unless we could convince her to take an ad out for the paper I doubt it. Laswell doesn't even know where we are. And the staff are careful about what they bring in." He concluded.

Nikolai hummed as he pulled something out of the pocket of his pants, "I figure this could help us no?". In his hand was the badge of the head nurse. He quickly put it back in his pocket as Ghost leaned forward, "Bloody fucking hell. How on earth did you get that mate?" He asked, eyes wide.

Konig had stopped fidgeting halfway into the conversation, his mind running through the possibilities of how to get out of there.

"When we get the chance we should have Gaz snoop around the breakroom. They don't check the cameras unless they think something is amiss." Price said, his tone leaving no room for argument as they all nodded.

The day went slowly for the boys but fast for you, and at the end of the day when you bid them a goodnight they were already forming multiple plans.

A few weeks went by with the boys gradually getting closer to you, the one consistent opinion throughout the unit that you were an angel. How could you not be when you spend part of your salary to get them snacks and actually bother to try and entertain them.

You did try to introduce therapy activities but each time they were tightlipped, unwilling to spill anything as they knew you'd have to put it in their charts. And they didn't want any of the doctors knowing shit about them.

And while they thought you'd get impatient or mad, you just smiled and would read to them during those attempted therapy sessions. "If I can't get you to talk, then you can at least listen." Is what you said before picking up a book and stopping when an hour was up.

How were they not supposed to fall for you? You made it so hard for them to hold back from all the physical contact they craved to have with you. It didn't help that you brushed off their flirts and compliments like oil and water.

If it was lack of interest they would have seen it, but everytime someone would compliment you, you'd reply with a "sure" or "Mhm whatever you say". It made them go crazy. How could you not see how pretty you were?

But they also noticed how you tended to hide your curves with scrubs that were a size bigger and put on a long-sleeved shirt underneath your scrub top, hiding your arms away like they were monstrous.

Part of them hated it, how you seemed to hide your body from not only yourself but from the world.

During these weeks, they had tried to get more information about you, only for you to be as tightlipped as they were. But they were glad to find out you were single. Many relieved sighs went through the common area the moment you said that.

And while each of them grew closer to you, more protective over you, that also meant that your relationship with the head nurse got worse.

It felt like everyday she'd find a reason to badger you and they hated seeing you curl in on yourself when she did. And when she raised her voice they saw how you struggled to fight back tears. They concluded then that you couldn't handle when people yelled at you. Cause every time that old hag said something nasty to you, you ignored it. But when she raised her voice and began yelling you couldn't. The way you grabbed your arm tight and dug your nails in to ground yourself exposed it.

But each and every time the head nurse scolded you, you'd decide to step up the antics. One time the head nurse scolded you for taking your lunch break with the boys so the next day you ordered pizza and brought it in just to spoil everyone.

And with those scoldings and antics, it gave Gaz and Soap time to map out their floor and snoop around. Soap was the lookout for Gaz when there was the possibility of getting caught or an alibi in case either needed it.

When Gaz managed to get into the break room he was surprised at how bare it all was.

He didn't find anything of use at surface level but then he noticed the lockers. The first thing he did was look for yours and open it up.

The only thing he found was your phone and a couple of notebooks along with an extra pair of scrubs. Part of him told him not to, that you'd notice, but he couldn't help himself as he tucked one of the notebooks away along with the spare scrub shirt you kept folded in there.

The next thing he did was pick up your phone, looking at the lock screen which was some sort of cat meme before he clicked on the notification list.

While looking at the list he didn't notice much, a few social media notifications and a few from YouTube. He couldn't even guess what the password would be so he didn't try, he quickly put it back where it was before going for another nurses' locker, looking for someone's phone that wasn't locked.

He was about to give up until he clicked on the eldest nurses' phone, finding no pattern or passcode to put in he unlocked it immediately. He smiled as he took the sim card out of the phone and turned off the location, carefully slipping it with his haul and smashing the sim card.

And there they were, a late night when Price managed to get a nurse to keep his door open so he could sneak around and get everyone out of their rooms, immediately going to hide in a janitor's closet. They all knew the nurses' schedules and habits by now so it wasn't too hard to know when to be back.

"Come on Gaz show us what you managed to get." Soap huffed out, already impatient as they dragged a cleaning cart to act as a table.

Gaz smirked triumphantly as he placed the bunched-up scrub top on the cart, unwinding it to show the spare phone and notebook.

They all quickly realized whose shirt it was but tried to ignore the obnoxious smile littering Gaz's features.

Nikolai quickly started messing with the phone, logging out of social media apps, and getting rid of anything personal. He quickly signed into a specific account on Twitter, finding the exact account that he knew Kate had set up if there was ever an abnormal situation like this one.

Once he left a comment on the Twitter post and then a dm, "Now we wait and see if Laswell can get us out or if she will help up break out." Nik said, returning his gaze to the shirt and notebook, his grip on the phone light.

Price was the one to grab the notebook, "So this is (L/n)'s?" He hummed out, looking at Gaz for confirmation.

"Yeah, I tried going through her phone but nothing that personal was on the lock screen and I wouldn't know the passcode. So I grabbed one of those notebooks that looked to be filled out more, didn't have time to read through any of them." He explained, shifting his weight onto another foot as he stood there curiously.

Price began to open the notebook, Graves who was far more curious leaned a bit to try and peak while Price read it out loud.

"Patient notes:"

"Ghost - a very daunting figure I met on my first shift, wears a mask at all times and has the worst insomnia out of the bunch. The tea I got for sleep seems to be helping and I'm super glad! I should thank my neighbor for telling me about it. I wonder if I could get him a better pillow? It looks like he uses two to support his head but it doesn't look like it's enough?"

The first entry of the notes and Ghost had his hand covering his mouth over his mask, an embarrassed smile and a small bit of blood flushed his cheeks.

"It looks like it's notes on each of us. Shall I continue reading or would you rather read it yourself?" Price asked, looking around the room at the curious men who all told him to continue. It would be embarrassing but nice to know exactly what you thought of them.

"Price - the eldest of the boys and possibly the most gentlemanly? Doesn't struggle with sleep but seems to have nightmares, I slip him the occasional midnight treat now and then in such cases. Very confident but also seems to worry out of slight paranoia. Not the worst paranoia I've seen and with how odd this place is, I think he might actually have a reason to be. Likes the daily news and I wish I could get it to him more often."

Price struggled a little to fully expose what the notes said about him but ignored the fluttering in his stomach and continued on.

"Soap - arguably the most rowdy and carefree. I think he tries to be light about this situation but when no one is looking he has this far look in his gaze that worries me. I think he feels trapped in this place. I tried to ask the doctors to organize a little trip outdoors to the hospital gardens so Soap could get some air along with the boys but they immediately denied my request. I think maybe I'll get a little plant that can live in the common area so it's not so dull."

Soap felt his heart ache. God, you were so good to them and it hurt. Part of him almost wishes you didn't worry about him too much while the other wants to be held in your arms.

"Gaz - harder to get a read on but he's very caring. Has slight ptsd and when it gets colder out I think he struggles a bit more than the others due to pain. I tried to make an appointment for him to meet with the doctor about it but they again denied my request. I'm going to buy some pain ointment after I do some research, Gaz cares so much about the rest he should have someone caring for him."

Gaz was the most surprised by your notes about him. Yeah, when it got cold out, most of his muscles tensed up, and occasionally, his joints ached, but it was normal after all the things that had done out in the field. He couldn't help but smile though, the thought of you helping him apply pain cream made his heart beat a bit faster.

"Graves - has those Texan manners, which makes it harder to read him due to how flirty he is. Seems carefree, but with how Price, Ghost, Soap, and Gaz seem to have a history with him, he still keeps his guard up. Very paranoid, and seems to worry a lot. I think he has anxiety but no confirmed diagnosis in his chart. I tried to get him to take a fidget toy with him to his room but he declined. I think he's trying to seem more carefree than he is, and that has to be exhausting.

Graves didn't think you were so observant till then. As all your notes were being read he wondered how you managed to observe so much when every interaction you seemed to be so carefree. He couldn't help but appreciate that aspect about you.

"Horangi - seems well put together and doesn't have many complaints like the others. Quiet but not quiet at the same time. He and Konig seem very close and helps Konig out when needed. Never takes off his sunglasses and I wonder why? I worry that while he doesn't complain a lot he's just tolerating and holding onto how he feels so he doesn't burden others. I wonder if getting him a notebook to write down his complaints and wants would help so he doesn't feel unheard?"

Horangi was quiet at your section about him, his eyes focusing on the cart in front of him. He wanted to sigh, your consideration for him, how you wanted to make him feel less pent up, it all made him want you more-

"Konig - the most anxious. Severe anxiety and I worry about him the most. He wears that shirt over his head and can't stay still. Being cooped up in his room or the common area can't be good for his mental health. I tried to request an outdoor garden trip again because of Konig, but they denied me again. I'm this close to going and yelling at the doctors to do their damn jobs. I wish I could help Konig more."

The flush that reached his cheeks down to his neck nearly made him look like a tomato under his mask. His heart beat fast as his fists clenched and unbleached. God you were so cute, the urge to squeeze you was unbearable for him.

"Nikolai - the hardest to read. He treats this place like it's a shitty vacation, and I think that's cause if he doesn't, he'll get pissed. Never complains about the food and I'm pretty sure it's cause he's had worse. He can't seem to stay still and always needs to be working on something, I got him a couple of puzzles and that seemed to help his need to work with his hands. He's very nice but also very curt. I've seen him get along with everyone but he doesn't seem to like being in the common area all day so I often let him wander back to his room by leaving his door open during the day. I think having that little bit of control of when he can and can't go to his room helps him out."

Nikolai was nothing but a big smile as Price read his section. Yeah, he was the last one, but you saved the best for last no?

The next section was a list of groceries and what to get next for the boys, most things you get regularly but there were specific things you wanted to get for the boys that would need clearing from the hospital first.

Before they could observe anything further Nikolai let out a noise to be quiet and brought the phone up to his face, a confirmation and a date a week from now sent back from Laswell.

Oh, their precious darling, you should know you have very little chances of getting rid of them now. The moment they got out of that hospital they were taking you with them.

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

w.count: 2k - he who is the most patient also yearns the most

zhongli met you for the first time when you came to the harbor on a extensive, work-related trip. some sort of negotiation at the port with certain shipment partners and possible trade opportunities. you had come from port ormos in sumeru, so he imagined you would get moving onto inazuma for the same thing before long. as luck would have it, you never made it that far before the nation of electro closed its borders. so, at that point, you were now essentially stuck in land of geo for the foreseeable future.

he had run into you when you were appraising some goods that had come in with a group of merchants ; those specific good were on your list to inspect to see if they would offer anything worth decent mora. perhaps it was fate that when he had passed behind your back, he heard you murmuring something about not knowing enough about a certain vase's story painted it on with aged, chipped paint. zhongli was the walking know-it-all of liyue, so of course without prompting, he flit over to your side and explained what you were looking at for you (after scaring you since you didn't hear him walk up beside you and instead of a proper 'hello' he just jumped straight into the explanation).

from then, he would often see you at the docks. clipboard in hand or a ledger of some sort that you would be reviewing. on the rare occasion, he would just see you strolling around with nothing on your hands so he took it upon himself to occupy the free time you seemed to use by relishing in the sea breeze.

you had been in liyue for over a year when zhongli's heart dropped deep into his stomach. his very core filled with dread as you inform him that since inazuma had finally lifted their restrictions, your work would soon resume as usual. you would soon be relocated to the far-off islands of electro. the tea he had been delightfully sharing with you previously now tasted too bitter on his tongue to continue drinking at the news.

"will you ever return?" his voice was quiet, not nearly as confident and proud as he usually was. it resembled a child asking if their best friend who was due to move away would ever visit them again.

the relationship you grew into with zhongli was special to both of you. he treated you so well and educated you in things you were clueless about. you confided in him and when liyue was at risk of drowning, you were the one who he ran to first when all was settled. you still remember that night so vividly.

you were at the harbor- as usual- but instead of working, you were helping pull stranded milieth out of the sea or helping people getting further inland as the waves violently warned you of doom. when the ocean calmed and the storm clouds that plagued the sky dissipated, you felt a weight off your chest. as you checked around to make sure people were alright, you were quickly snatched away by your wrist. being dragged off to a more secluded corner of the harbor docks behind a stack of, now storm weathered, crates.

zhongli had never understood the phrase 'word vomiting', but what he told you behind those damaged and rain-soaked crates was most definitely so. his gnosis had just been traded, no longer in his possession, and he could finally, finally tell you everything. it definitely wasn't how it was supposed to happen. his whole identity spilled in the span of a several ramble while shakily holding onto your wrists like you'd float off to sea if he didn't anchor you down next to him.

"of course i'll come back." you reassure him. his hand releases it's soft grip around his teacup and lays the back of it on the table like it had given up on keep any sort of grip on anything. you understand his silent offer and place your palm on top of his. "i promise. as soon as my work in inazuma is finished and i get everything completed in sumeru, i'll come and visit you as often as i can."

feeling your pulse on the junction under the heel of your hand, he knew you were being truthful. of course, you hadn't lied to him before so he would believe anything you said regardless of the circumstances; though perhaps that was his own personal bias in a way. you could tell him you were the reason the sun rose every morning and he'd believe you- you shone so brightly in his eyes, so naturally that must be why.

you chuckle from across the table and he looks at your quizzically. you tap your fingers rhythmically across his wrist that's covered in brown fabric. your opposite arm comes to rest its elbow on the table and your palm supports your cheek.

"what me to make a contract just so you feel better?" zhongli blinks before he's craking a smile back towards yours.

"you jest too much."

"do i?"

"it's endearing."

your 'contract' is just sealed as an earnest promise he'd keep in his chest until you come back to him. on the day of your parting, zhongli kisses the back of your hand, your knuckles, and your cheek.

"for safe travels, swift work, and my sincerities," he had justified. you returned his affection with a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"for no reason other than i want to." zhongli kisses your lips for the very same reason before you board your ship that takes you far, far away from him. he doesn't account the time he spent watching your ship sail further away with his hands behind his folded ever so neatly back until it was completely out of sight. he stares at the horizon and almost wishes that it would bring you back.

it doesn't.

it doesn't.

so, zhongli waits.

the lord of geo has been alive for millennia, so the passage of time was something inane to him now. a few years is attuned to that of a blink in the grand scheme of his long, long lifetime. however, those years he spent without you at his side or in his shadow felt like centuries.

mortals squander their time, fleeting at it is, and they know they will never live forever. they will fill it with new things every day because it could be their last- they would never know when their time would come.

"it's been a long year" or month or day; all those phrases zhongli hears and agrees to in mundane conversations- but mostly just so he can identify and align with the masses as an unquestionable human. he never understood those phrases. yesterday was as long as today and will be as long as tomorrow and so forth.

the years you spent gone with only letters sent back and forth between the both of you made him feel closer to morality than anything else before. the days did feel longer. the years felt dragging. the months felt stretched. it felt like time was slowing down, dawdling and twiddling its thumbs while he was stuck suffering in its demanding sluggish waves.

it made him feel human. the terrible impatience for something or someone to come back home. the agony of the wait and the suspense on if it would happen at all. and while he wishes to feel closer to mortal life and connect to his people in such ways- this way- this game of time just made him irritated.

zhongli didn't remember the last time he had felt impatience so thick, but it began gnawing at his insides with the last letter he had received.

'my work has finally concluded, so i'll be coming back to liyue as soon as i send this letter out to you!'

those were your final remarks penned by your hand before it made it into his. when did you send this? a week ago? two? he didn't know. you neglected to date it. every day he goes to the harbor, checking morning, noon and evening to see what ships have sailed in and if you'd be on one. or perhaps you would be coming from sumeru by means of the west by the chasm, coming on foot and would simply waltz into the city.

zhongli didn't know and each day felt longer and longer.

it turns out, the horizon did bring you back to him. it just took it's sweet time in doing so.

out on the harbor once again, a ship was docking, and he saw you before you saw him. the back of your head moving as you help people unload their cargo and help them off the ship before you dismount yourself. it had been years since he had seen you, but he would never forget what you looked like. the features that wouldn't change.

walking- gaiting- down to the harbor's lowest levels was the giddiest he had probably felt in his whole life. antsy. his chest was a mess, it felt like farmers were tilling into his insides. as he stood off to the side of the dock, mindful not to block anyone's path into the harbor. his foot tapping, and hands opening and closing in repetition just for something to do with all his antsy jitters.

you must've spotted him when he was lost in his own mind since it was his name coming from the voice he memorized years ago that turned his head. you were leaning over a stack of crates that you were previously helping unload, waving so enthusiastically he was afraid you'd swing your arm into someone's head.

zhongli is someone who is very aware of affection in public areas with lots of eyes darting around. he was reserved in a way that he feels his affections were best left to the privacy of him and his choice partner. this day was an exception since the moment you were within his reach, you were crashing into his chest, and he was holding you prisoner there.

he could feel your pulse under his hand that held behind your neck to keep your head pushed against his chest. your warmth from the sun that had bathed you the morning voyage back to him. the smell of the sea breeze against your clothes and skin.

it was evident that you had changed over the years- an evitable happen stance he expected. you were only human after all. but you were still the same as he remembered. you were comfortable and warm and safe and here.

when zhongli finally returned some freedom to your range, which wasn't very far since his hands still settled comfortably on your hips, he mapped out exactly how you changed in comparison to his memories with his roaming gaze.

"how long will you be staying?" he asks.

"how long can liyue put up with me?" you answer and you feel his chest rumble in a chuckle under your palms that rest there. "i'm not sure yet. i plan on staying at wangshuu inn for the time though."

"nonsense." zhongli shakes his head and one of his hands leave your hip to brush the back of his knuckle against your cheek down to the corner of your mouth. "my home has more than enough space to accommodate your presence."

"i was going to ask," you pout and feel your face get hotter, but it wasn't because of the sun, "but i didn't want to feel like i was imposing."

"please do. you're more than welcome to 'impose' on me anytime you wish." you give in quickly much to his delight. you hoist your bags up, which he promptly takes from you without so much as breaking a sweat, and offers you his other arm. "we have much to catch up on."

when hu tao hears that you had come back to liyue, she suddenly isn't so upset that zhongli never returned to work that day.

[chericos]

𝑅𝑂𝑆𝐸 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐹𝑈𝑀𝐸 જ⁀➴ ( ၴႅၴ

𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑔𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ༄

cws: underage drinking, gojo is a glorified lightweight, and he's rich so..., slight NSFW? (i was pushing it ngl..), friends with benefits for most of it, idiots who are so obviously in love but don't say they're dating, they never end up officially dating but everyone knows, took out the angst cause i'm tired of sobbing, all sweet and perfect, sassy man apocalypse is REAL, unedited please forgive me

yes I know it's whiskey but pretend it's wine ok 😭 it's for the lyrics

haunted; by laufey

2005;

the room is hot, the air thick enough for you to choke on it. your mind clouded with a lust-filled void that you don't think you can ever escape.

one bottle was all it took for satoru to be on you like the plague. An expensive bottle of 55-year-aged Yamazaki malt whiskey, which he claims he "found all by itself in the middle of nowhere." (he stole it from his dad's wine cellar on his trip back home) and who were you to deny a nice drink funded by someone with way too much money on their hands?

that was the start of the unavoidable doom you cursed upon yourself.

your hands tangled into the hairs at his neck, gripping, tugging, anything to get closer to him. one of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him, the other cupped at the back of your head.

and you know it's wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this. ruining a friendship you worked months to build and perfect in only one night. but as a feverish whine leaves his wine-stained lips you think just maybe, you can share one more kiss.

2006;

"would you still love me if i was a worm?"

it's almost humorous how his question breaks the restless tension between the both of you.

the air runs cold as the passing summer breeze finally turns into the chilling autumn winds. the periodic chirping of crows resounds in the far distance as you and satoru lay back on the training ground fields. the pale moonlight cascades on his face, making his already angelic-like blue eyes shimmer.

"probably not," that seems to crush any ounce of confidence he had coming into this conversation. his lips form into a pout, and misty eyes stare into yours pleadingly. he looks like a kicked puppy.

"what? did i crush your ego?" you ask between laughs?, he only huffs in response. you think that might be the end of it, a conversation gone too soon you suppose. the sudden rustle of the grass next to you has you turning face-to-face with gojo. you give him a confused glance as he inspects your face, mentally memorizing every dip and imperfection you have. the lack of response has you clearing your throat, eyebrows furrowing as a silent plea for him to speak his mind.

"don't tell me that actually hurt you," the frown on his face only deepens as he side-eyes you.

"and what if it did?" you roll your eyes at that. assuming it was just a game, satoru has always been particularly sassy, you decided to play along.

"oh however shall i make it better the glorious, majestic satoru gojo?" it was a joke. of course it was, however, you didn't expect him to perk up so much at the blatantly ironic suggestion.

"you wanna know how to make it better?" he shifts closer, his nose grazes against your own, and you can feel his breath fanning across your lips. he's so close. your gaze flickers up from his lips to his eyes as a hand reaches to push a stray strand of your hair back. "what..?" it was a joke right? god, you're already breathless. He has barely done so much as touch you, and you're already turning into putty, it's pathetic.

"a kiss would do wonders," he was always so arrogant, infuriating even.

"are you being serious?"

"whaaaaat! you know you want to,"

"don't put words in my mouth." yet, you don't find yourself pulling back.

"one kiss," you tell him. one kiss is all you'll allow you tell yourself, you outwardly nod to it.

"awww, i knew you loved me!" he's extremely giddy. you can practically feel his body heat radiating off of him.

"what did i say about putting words into my--" you don't get to finish your sentence as he's basically pawing at you. his arm is laid over you waist as his other hand cradles your head.

one kiss. just one. one. its a lie, theres never just one kiss when it comes to satoru. he's on you like a starved man, molding his body into yours almost perfectly. its pointless to try and fight it. you willingly give in.

you allow yourself to have him just tonight.

2007;

"what do you plan on doing after we graduate?" shoko asks, taking another drag of a cigarette. it's late april, the air is starting to get warm enough for you to wear your spring uniform again. barely 2 weeks until you'll finally be able to call yourself a full-fledged jujutsu sorcerer.

it's a question you never really thought of. of course, you wanted to leave, explore the world even. it was a fated fact. you dreamed of it. graduation day, the day you would finally be able to up and leave this school and all its haunting memories behind once and for all. the day when you could leave everything behind and start anew. but you didn't want to leave the friends you made, the relationships you spent years building and perfecting. the connections you made through jujutsu tech were priceless.

but you didn't know what you wanted to do. leave, yes, but then what? where would you go, what would you do?

"i'm not sure," an honest answer, you weren't sure. but that did nothing to stop the fleeting thoughts of spending a lifetime with a certain someone. you still remember the night back in your second year. you still held onto every ounce of sin.

you wished and hoped it would be something more, even though you knew he didn't love you quite like you loved him.

"hope you figure it out soon, if it comes down to it, you could always stay with me here."

"yeah, thanks ieiri,"

"hmm"

hours pass and you find yourself sitting in gojo's room. he lays flat on the bed on his phone, giggling periodically. you sit on the end, back pressed against the wall as you tightly hug one of his pillows.

"you know we graduate in a few days..."

"uhuh," his gaze doesn't falter, as if he expected you to say that.

"what are you going to do?" you shouldn't have asked, shouldn't get your hopes up, praying for him to say that he'd go wherever you wanted to go. a dream so far-fetched but felt oh so sweet.

"i don't know, i'll figure it out when it happens." it's so like him, not knowing what he'd want to do when his school years would finally come to an end. but knowing him, he'd find something out, do something he wouldn't regret doing. the complete opposite of you.

"i'll probably go to america, visit some family while i'm there you know?"

you think you hear him choke.

he clears his throat before speaking again, "that sounds... nice. how long do you plan on staying?" you swear he sounds upset, maybe even a little scared, but you quickly shake those thoughts away. your mind was already made, and like hell was this going to stop you.

"at least a couple of years, at most, i might not move back. promised ieiri i'd visit every now and then though,"

"oh, guess i'll have to visit you sometime then huh?" he laughs but you know its fake. its not the same laugh he's shared between just the two of you, its strained, and somehow, that breaks your heart even more.

"i guess so."

you don't talk for the rest of that night, or for the next couple days that pass by. the next, and last time you speak to him is the morning of your flight where you bid him goodbyes and wish him well. and you swear to yourself as you leave at dawn, that this will end 'til he haunts you again.

2017;

10 years.

10 years since you've last seen him, granted, it's been 10 years since you've last seen any of them. your attempts at visiting have been futile ever since you moved. being pushed onto back-to-back missions inside and out of the country.

but it's useless worrying about things you can't fix. so as you stare at your reflection through your phone camera you wonder if they'd changed, if they even cared, only inviting you out of common courtesy. expecting you to no-show for work. but here you are, an 18-hour flight later, sitting at a bar in the middle of tokyo, japan.

the rose perfume you wore lingers around, it's sickly sweet scent fogs your mind. your thoughts racing so loudly you don't hear the door open to alert you someone else has entered the low-lit room.

"it's been over a decade and you don't even turn around to greet us? and i thought we were close." god, that voice. its the same as you remember. you spin your head around and that's when it hits you, a wave of nostalgia. seeing the three most amazing people you ever got the chance to meet standing right in front of you after years, you almost start crying(you do).

"leave her alone satoru." nanami, you don't remember him being that tall. the last in-person conversation you had with him being just hours before you started packing for your flight;

"so you're actually leaving?"

"yeah, i already made housing plans so theres really no turning back now,"

"we'll miss you. granted, some more than others--"

"who are you talking about?"

"he didn't tell you? never-mind then,"

"can we start drinking already?" shoko, still the same as always. it would be a shock if she changed. you still remember the phone call you had with her last week;

"he still whines about you leaving,"

"really? he doesn't really text me much."

"it's annoying, he's like a baby crying for their mother. you need to shut him up before i lose my mind and kill him myself."

"hah, i'll call him sometime this week,"

"good. anyways, did you hear about this new form of torture?--"

"you guys are so mean to me..."

"still a crybaby i see." you laugh as satoru glares at you.

"less talking, more drinking!"

"you're going to end up with alcohol poisoning with that mentality."

youre all sitting down at the bar, ieiri to your right, satoru to your left, and kento beside him. it feels like when you were younger. the four of you(gojo dragged nanami there every time) all sprawled out across shoko's dorm. bottles of cheap wine and liquor trashed on the floor. some of the best times of your high school years were spent like that.

by the time you make it to your second round, shoko's already on her 5th, satoru still has barely taken more than 3 sips of his, and nanami opting out, taking the position of the 'designated driver' for the four of you tonight.

you're not drunk, just tipsy enough to feel the buzz in your head when gojo asks you a question.

"how have you been? how have you liked america so far?"

"good. and it's been nice so far, i've been able to see family more often. oh! i found this nice bakery near my apartment..."

",you would like it." you add that last part on a whim. the back part of your mind hoping that maybe he'd be able to take you up on the implied offer of going together sometime.

"enough about me, what have you been up to?"

"i teach,"

"really?"

"mhm, got an amazing batch of first years. i even picked up this new kid... he's gong to be great one day. i just know it"

"thats sweet. you have good eyes so i'll take your word for it."

"you should visit, i'm sure they'd love you. maki especially."

"i'd like that, maybe teach them a thing or two?"

"yeah! oh theres even this talking panda--"

and thats how the night continues to go. every now and then ieiri and kento join in to ask you about life or if you're into trying any of their hobbies. but it mostly consist of you and satoru talking as if the whole world is on pause. like its only the two you you left.

hours pass before shoko finally passes out on the bar table. as he swings her arm over his shoulder he offers you and satrou a ride home. before you can even respond gojo is already saying he'll call you both a taxi, and is lighting(harshly) shoving kento and ieiri out the door.

you both end up staying two hours more since they left. satoru placing any drinks you order onto his own tab.

you ended up crying two times that night. however the second was not in the same sense as before.

just like 2005, all it took was a drink. surprisingly the same brand and bottle as back then, a 55-year-aged Yamazaki malt whiskey, which this time is funded by satoru himself, is what had you staggering into his apartment. gripping onto him as he balances you straight.

you've barely made it into his room before you're pouncing on him, kissing him so hard you're sure your lips will be bruised in the morning. hand feverishly pulling at each other's clothes, broken whines leave your mouths. in the back of your drunken dazed mind you know that this would never last but you'll pretend he'll stay forever.

he lays you down, momentarily pulling back to look you dead in the eyes. "are you ok with this?" he's panting, a desperate look in his eyes as he asks.

"yes, just—please..." you can't bear to stare at him as the words leave your lips. your face flushed at the sounds you're making just at the thought of him. and with that, he's back on you. no hint of hesitation in his actions.

"toru.." you whine, your back arching into the bed. his large hands ghost over the top of your breasts, pulling the straps of your dress and bra down to cup them more.

"Now you're gettin' me all worked up—" he sighs, hands sliding down to the waistband of your panties. you mewl at the feeling of his fingers grazing on your wet cunt.

"what, sweetheart? d'ya want some more?" he pokes at you, you let out pathetic moans as your body twitches underneath his. "please 'toru," you pant.

that night, ghostly sounds haunt the hallways as he wraps you around.

the sin barely breaks before you're awake, searching for your clothes you couldn't stay, you knew it in the very pit of your stomach. you'll continue to hold on to every ounce of sin. and as you leave at dawn you have a gut feeling that satoru will never cease to haunt you.

an; a little rushed and will probably go back to heavily edit this in the morning(don't be surprised if the whole plot is changed) but i hope you enjoy the pre-halloween special!

an edit; still very rushed, however, the plot has slightly changed...

[flxwrites]

Unrequited Love

Reader X Harry Styles

It's a rainy afternoon in New York, raindrops falling furiously against the pavement. You're looking out the cab window at the city and wondering what exactly you're going to say to Harry.

That you like him more than just a friend?, that you are in love with him?, that you can't forget the taste of his lips?.

Your hands sweat and you try to wipe them on the denim of your pants, maybe you should have waited until the rain stopped; but it would have been too long and you could no longer keep that feeling that was eating you alive.

Then you see the characteristic building where Harry's apartment is, right next to the Chinese restaurant.

Your stomach does its thing, because you feel a churning inside; as if you were about to vomit the pasta and salad you ate for lunch.

"Here it is..." You say in a calm tone, almost nervous because you know what's coming.

"Okay, that's $5.24." The driver turns to look at you and you hold out the cash.

You say thank you before getting out of the cab, then walk with the rain soaking your clothes and hair, you don't pay much attention to it. When you're inside the building, you greet the doorman and a 50-year-old divorced man. He gives you a warm smile that somehow gives you some confidence.

You make your way to the elevator and press the button with the number 7, then the doors close in front of you.

"Harry, I love you..."

"Harry, I am in love with you."

"Harry, i wanna be more than just friends..."

The little bell in the elevator makes you close your mouth, you feel your heart pounding hard in your chest and that at any moment it's going to burst out of you, run to Harry and stay with him.

Yes, that's exactly what you feel.

Your eyes wander over the numbers on the corridor doors.

122, 124, 126, 128...

Until you finally see the number in gold on the white wood of the door. 131 on the 7th floor. Your hands tremble, one of them knocks 3 times on it. Your breath catches a couple of times and you almost feel suffocated.

Suddenly it's hot, no matter that the weather outside is the opposite. You feel your body covered by a thin layer of sweat and that you need a glass of water because your mouth is so dry that it is difficult to swallow saliva.

Then Harry opens the door.

"Hey y/n..."

"Hi."

You have to speak, you know you have to say another word but the dryness in your mouth doesn't help.

"I umm, can I come in?" you ask him as you settle your bag on your shoulder.

"Uh, yeah sure. Come in." Harry opens the door further and steps aside to allow you access.

You enter after a deep sigh, your feet walk inside the apartment and inspect the place, you remember every detail and it's not because you've been there many times, but you like to observe.

"Would you like something to drink?" Harry asks

And thank god for that.

"Yes, please. A glass of water would be enough."

You see him walk to the kitchen where he opens the small wooden drawer and takes out a crystal glass; then he goes to the refrigerator and presses the small lever with the glass, the water begins to fill it and you feel anxious to feel the liquid pass you parched throat.

You stop looking at him to go and sit on the black leather couch, you once sat in that very spot. That night where you and Harry talked late into the night, you remember his sleepy eyes, the sound of his voice slightly deeper which was probably due to tiredness.

"Here you go." He's in front of you, looking handsome as hell and he's extending the crystal glass to you.

"Thank you" You say as you take it and your fingers barely brush against his hand. You bring the glass to your lips and begin to sip the clear liquid, your throat feeling cool and ready to talk as Harry sits on the other side of the couch, watching you drink.

"You were thirsty, huh?"

You look at him and notice that he is completely relaxed, the complete opposite of you. His hand is made into a fist holding his head and his tattooed arm is leaning back against the backrest, on the other hand, you are sitting up straight and almost tense. When you realize you're done with the water, you take the glass between your thighs and your fingers play with the border of the glass.

"So you came all the way to my apartment just to ask me for a glass of water?" Harry asks you graciously, he has a small smile plastered on his perfect face.

"No. I actually came to...umm." Great, your throat is dry again, or actually it's just a pretext not to confess to him that you're in love with him. "I came to tell you something, Harry."

Your hands clench the crystal glass, you know that if you don't measure your strength; you can break it and suffer serious injuries.

"Tell me what?"

"I'm kind of like..."

You raise your gaze to him, your eyes studying the details of his face and make the mistake of moving down to his lips, they look more appetizing than any other day. You move closer to him, at an extremely dangerous distance, that kind of distance where there is no turning back anymore; where distance is no longer distance because your lips are pressed to Harry's.

The crystal glass slips from your hand into a space that gets caught between the couch and his thigh. It feels good, it feels so good that you swear it can touch the sky with your fingertips and then you fall. You are falling into a huge void when you feel the hands on your shoulders pull you away from that glorious kiss.

"I'm in love with you, Harry."

There it is, you finally say it.

But now you swear if you're going to throw up when she sees the expression on Harry's face.

"Y/n...I-" You take your seat away from him again, staring into that gorgeous man's eyes. "I can't."

Your world is falling apart, it's crumbling in front of you and you can't do anything to stop it.

"Listen, I'm dating Beth and well we've been in a relationship for something like 5 years, I'm going to ask her to marry me."

You can't cry now, of course not. You feel that lump in your throat, it's choking you and you really need to get out.

"I can't leave her... I'm sorry, if I misled you about how I felt. I felt that way for a moment too." Then he felt it, for a moment Harry felt he was in love with you. "But I gave myself some time to think it through and it turned out to be a confusion, you know. Maybe it's happening the same with you, love."

You don't want him to call you that right now, you can't do it. Besides, you know you’re not confused, you're in love with Harry and you're sure of it.

"There are so many guys behind you, meet new people and you'll see there are better matches than me..." He chuckles, in a failed attempt to lighten the mood.

"Yes, I think so" You reply "I...I have to go now, it was a bad idea to come here."

From where you are, the door seems so far away, as if they don't want to let you escape from that place.

"Hey, let me take you home. The rain won't stop for a while and I can't let you leave like this " You hear him say.

Harry is about to approach you, then you react in a sudden movement that makes you fall and hit your forehead with the edge of the coffee table in the living room.

“Dammit.” You curse

“Are you okay?, here. Let me help you-” Harry takes you by the waist to help you sit on the couch “I’ll go get my aid-kit. Wait here.” He tells you before disappearing again and when you think you are able to run away.

You do, you bolt off the couch towards the door to run away from the apartment, your heart shattering in your hands and your world falling apart.

Harry doesn't love you like you wish he did.

//

I kinda attempted to write a sad one :( hope you enjoyed it.

Love you💓

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Tempers fugit

She was nose-deep in a book when Tephan sauntered into her study, as self-absorbed as ever, all misplaced confidence and mislaid tact. There was no knock: he simply strolled through the door like he owned the place. Which, in fairness, he did. He and his brother had inherited the whole Duchy on the passing on their aunt, from the throne room to the quarters where Sanje slept. In a way, they'd also inherited her.

"What is it, Teran?" Sanje lowered her book, A Field Guide to Mundane Fungi and Their Uses, which didn't have nearly enough pictures for its content. She was used to these interruptions, but that only meant she'd long since burned through her reserves of patience.

"Woah, is that any way to greet your Duke?" He protested in mock offence. Sanje wasn't sure that any insult could actually penetrate his hide of puffed-up adoration, but that hadn't stopped her from trying. "After he's come all this way to see you?"

"Forgive me, my Duke," she said, with as much disdain as she dared. The late Lady Jaside had truly been her Duchess - the sort of woman she'd been proud to serve. Her nephews, Tephan and Kase, were her Dukes in title only. "But come all this way to see me for what?"

"Hey, we'll come to that. There's no great hurry." He looked around the bookshelves, as if deliberately hoping to find a distraction, some reason to waste even more of her time. "Pretty flowers, by the way. How do you keep them all alive? The ones we get wither straight away."

"I don't," she admitted, closing the book and letting Tephan have the floor. This might go more quickly if she let him work this tangent out of his system. "They die, but then I help them remember what living flowers feel like. All the ingredients are still there, you see; they've just forgotten the recipe."

"Oh that," Tephan said dismissively, as if magical intervention was easier than just watering them every now and again. "Necromancer stuff."

"Not necromancer stuff. Magic."

It was a common bugbear. Since the age of Chronos, Father Time with Cronus's scythe, the Grim Reaper, people had loved to conflate time and death. But as a tempomancer, she could only reap what had already been sown. She worked not with death, but with life; restoring wilted flowers to full bloom, reminding wounds when they were whole, and reversing the ageing of her own body, so that young men like Tephan could continue to treat her with such flagrant disrespect.

"Magic is all about memory," she explained, for the dozenth time, and not blind to the irony. "Reminding mountains of when they were molten, or rivers of a time they took a different course. Yes, I can remind a corpse of its ability to move, but I could equally return living limbs to the impotence of the womb."

"So it's like... localised time travel."

"If it helps you to think of it that way." That was the best she was going to get. "Why are you here, Tephan?"

The Ugly Dukeling shifted under her glare, and turned back to inspect the shelves. "Kase needs you at the stables."

"Kase knows where to find me, just as you unfortunately do."

"That's why I'm here. He sent me to fetch you."

"Errand boy to the real Duke, is it?" Sanje tried to sow discord at every opportunity. If could get them bickering between each other, the theory went, they would spend less time ganging up on her. "Is that how power sharing works? He does the ruling, you do the dishes?"

It was such a shame. Their aunt had been a good Duchess, before the wasting sickness took hold. Sanje almost wished that she'd saved her: at the time she'd vowed not to meddle with a ruler's old age, preserving another unnatural life well into the centuries, thinking only evil could come of that. But bad things had come anyway. She'd left herself cursed to live through successive generations of up-jumped aristocracy, each less bearable than the last.

Lady Jaside had died, and her nephews had been made joint Dukes of Rhúnwald, joint Protectors of the Mark, and the joint banes of Sanje's life. They had formed an uneasy coalition: the two brothers had a friction of their own, and they'd inherited their aunt's previous counsellors, including Sanje's seat at that table. The old guard were losing that fight. The numbers seemed to dwindle by the week, having been of a similar age to their Duchess, and she wasn't looking forward to babysitting on her own.

"No way. He's just busy."

"And what's so urgent that he couldn't come himself?"

"Hang on, let me think."

"You don't know?" Sanje certainly wouldn't be breaking her vow for them. The moment they took even the slightest sparring injury, requiring muscle to remember a life before the swords, she resolved to be nowhere to be found. She'd restrained herself from regicide, which would also be a worrying precedent, but she wouldn't stand in nature's way. She might even puppet Tephan's corpse, until he learnt what necromancy was.

"No, I did, of course I did. I've just momentarily forgotten." He continued to look around the shelves, as if something there might job his memory. "Everybody does that, right? You walk into a room, and can't remember why you're in there? It's funny, just a moment ago it was on the tip of my tongue..."

"I'll see what I can do," Sanje said.

"Wait-"

But she was all out of patience. Sanje froze the rest of him into place, and watched the rapid convulsion of his lips with interest, trying to gauge where they would land. Tempomancy wasn't an exact art. Memory was measured in moments, not minutes - and some were more momentous than others. In this case she needed his mouth to remember its last conversation, in the hope it would be more enlightening than their current one.

"...a threat to our rule," it was saying, as she let it land. Too far. Or not far enough, she wondered. That excerpt seemed worth hearing the start of.

"Magic will always be a threat to our rule."

Intrigue turned into full attention. Sanje stood up, focusing as she pushed him just a few more moments back into the past.

"I'll lure the necromancer, make up some pretence for her to come rushing into the trap. It's about time we docked her claws. You're absolutely right. As long as we allow it to continue, magic will always be a threat to our rule."

She could only listen to one side of the conversation, and imagine Kase's equally dreadful voice in response. But it was enough to tell her everything she needed to know. Sanje could recognise a snake from front or back: she knew the clang of a headsman's axe, without waiting to hear its echo.

She brought Tephan's lips forward again, then back, then forward, until they were roughly back where he'd left them. "Funny, just a moment ago it was on the tip of my tongue."

"Well, take your time," she said instead, replacing her book for one on defensive spells. Sometimes her own memory needed to be refreshed.

"Oh, that's it," he said, watching her return the volume on fungi. "There's something the gardener thinks might be magical. Some sort of toadstool, I think. You need to come and look at it."

"Of course," Sanje agreed, for once the picture of obedience. "Please, lead the way. I'll be right behind you."

[astralisbelle]

Dead Man's Hand 9 - I'm Feeling Good

Dead Man's Hand Masterlist tags: engineer!reader, gambler!reader, loose canon timeline, eventual smut, fluff, action, casino aesthetics, touch starved reader, touch starved din, reader and din get on each other’s nerves, also they’re idiots, defrosting ice king din, cinderella vibes, everybody loves grogu

chapter summary: Amidst staying up too late and an incident with shoes, they realize that lonely people can come from anywhere.

notes: Getting to the GOOD STUFF real soon after this one. Shit's gonna hit the fan... I promise hah. In the mean time, take some fluff <3

Din can’t take his eyes off of her. During the drawing and betting phases, she enters a zone of absolute focus that reminds him of himself when he uses his rifle.

He wonders how keeping track of it all looks in her mind, how she visualizes the deck, what does she do when cards are revealed. When the time for the reveal comes and her bluffs and secrets are exposed, she puts on the most disarming smile, brimming with confidence. The chips stack, the pot shifts, and the girl from Tatooine teaches everyone watching an important lesson: do not underestimate her.

After she wiped out the handsome man, the Mon Calamari manages to fake-out the Togruta. Five players remain. When the dealer calls to adjourn for the evening, she picks up her skirts and flutters towards him, giddiness in her steps as her heels click into the floor. Grogu, this late at night, has fallen asleep in his pram in spite of all of the noise. “Did you see all that?” she asks, using her thumb to point to the table. “Did you see that?”

“I did. You’re doing great.” Din pushes himself off the wall. “Let’s go.”

“B-Back to the room? Already?”

“It’ll be dawn in a few hours.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” She tilts her head, seeing that Grogu passed out already, poor thing. “I should be tired, but I have so much energy! Maybe you two should head back.”

“And you?”

She bites her lip to contain her excitement. “The parties are still going. I’ve never been to one! I heard there’s booze and dancing and overall a crazy time.” She shimmies her shoulders. “You don’t mind, do you? I swear, I’ll be back before the sun’s up.”

Truth be told, he does mind. Though unorthodox, this is a job like any other and he worries that distractions could affect her play style. He’s about to point all this out, but the look in her eyes steals his words away. There is a glow around her, like a star before it bursts. One look at her, and no one would guess that she was from a backwater planet, fighting for scraps and counting cards in the corners of cantinas. Din has to remind himself that she is doing him a huge favor and that she is capable of making her own decisions. Though, of course, a part of him still worries. He doesn’t trust anyone in this place.

“...Fine.” She jumps in place, clapping her hands together. “But if you aren’t back by then, I’m going to look for you.”

“I’d have no doubt that you’d find me.” She turns half-way. “Oh, thank you, Din.” Right, he forgot that he told her his name. Having anyone know it is something he needs to adjust to. He simply nods, his visor covering the bashful look in his eyes.

“H-Have fun.”

---

Din stays up, doing maintenance on his weapons in the meantime. He inspects them, washes away any specks, adjusts any components, keeping them neat on the living room table. Occasionally, he stands and peeks into the pram to make sure Grogu sleeps soundly. This is nice, at least, having the quiet moments between himself and his little troublemaker. It wasn’t until Grogu came into his life that Din realized how lonely the path of a bounty hunter can be, especially one that walks the Way of the Mandalore. He’s almost embarrassed to admit that he cannot imagine life without him now. A part of him hopes that he’s enough for Grogu.

Din remembers the scene of the morning, Grogu clinging to her finger, his body close to her chest. His heart tugs at the realization that Grogu will probably miss her when all of this is done. Oh well. They would visit her whenever the Razor Crest needed repairs (which is often, nowadays.)

Two hours pass. She has thirty minutes before Din is ready to put his helmet back on and go search for her. Just before that happens, he hears giggling outside of the door. He slides the helmet back onto his head and stands up just as the door slides open. A guard has her arm wrapped around his shoulder and she… well, she looks fine, other than her cheeks flushing red and a dazed smile on her lips. “Sir.”

“Mando! You missed ooout!”

“Oh, kriff.” He relieves the guard of her, letting her balance her entire weight on him. “Sorry, I’ve got her.”

“Not a problem, sir. Have a nice evening.”

Once the door closes, she laughs again and looks up. “I’m sorry, they had this drink that looked like all the stars were in your glass and it was so good. It was so good, Din.” At least she isn’t slurring her words. She is, however, very giggly. “Oh, it was so much fun!”

“Yeah.” He looks back at the pram, not wanting to wake Grogu. Better do this quick. Din leads her across the living room then closes the bedroom door behind them. He sets her down on the bed, listening to her snicker. “Good night.”

“Wait, wait.” She sits up. “Can you, can you get my shoes. I can’t…” She makes a pathetic stretch towards her feet. “I can’t reach… pffft.” Then she chortles into another giggle fit. Din groans, feeling his favorite word (“no”) ready on his tongue, but she uses those damn eyes again, coy and tempting. He resists her request for a few moments longer before he caves and kneels before her, taking her shoe in hand. At first, his attempts to undo the buckle are thwarted thanks to the thick leather of his gloves so after a while, he just swears under his breath and removes them.

His bare fingers hold her ankle while he undoes the buckle this time, pulling the straps through the loops. The touch makes her chest flutter – is this what they mean when they say princesses and queens are waited on hand and foot? When he takes off her shoe, he does so without yanking it of her ankle, taking his time. She tilts her head, watching without missing a single beat as he lifts her other foot to untie the buckle. “It was beautiful,” she breathes out. “So many lights. The music is so loud that you can’t hear anything else. And I thought dancing would be prettier, but it was just a lot of arm flailing and jumping.”

“Sounds awful.”

He slips the other shoe off, again, careful not to yank on her ankle. “You’re so sweet.” The words spill out of her mouth.

“Wh-what?”

Din’s flustered voice makes her laugh again. “What? You are. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I know you’ve got a reputation.” She winks.

He grumbles. “Is that all?” With urgency, he stands up, pulling his gloves back on.

Her eyes trail up, taking in the entire full body of the Mandalorian. She knows the warmth of all of the liquor makes her body feel light and her mind blank. She stares into the darkness of the visor. I wonder… such a pretty name. Is your face just as pretty underneath that helmet?

He says her name to snap her out of her thoughts.

“Oh. It’s…” She has to say something to keep him here. “Din, even if I lose, I’m never gonna forget this. All of this. It’s so amazing.” She lies down on her back, staring at the ceiling. “But I’m not gonna lose.”

“You’re sure?”

“I just remembered what you told me, about it not being different underneath it all. And you were right.” She rolls onto her side.

Din knows he can end this conversation as fast as he wanted to, but he hears the wistfulness in her voice, the sincerity despite the inebriation. And, a part of him doesn’t mind talking to her. Daresay, it rather likes it. He sits on the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder. “You’re gonna have a hell of a story to tell Peli.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She gets up so they sit side by side, her legs resting on the bed. “You know, depending how big the final payout is, she could retire with that money. Stars, so could I. I could… not go back.”

“...Is that something you want?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never thought of it before.” They turn their gazes towards the wide window, watching the dark sky turn lighter, blues mixing with oranges. The lights in the buildings turn off as the sun peeks from the horizon, making the waters shimmer like thousands of jewels. It’s a sight Din has seen a handful of times, but it’s never felt this peaceful. She watches it with a faraway look, as if memorizing it. “You know, I… I’ve been alone. Since I was, I dunno, eight? Nine?” Her voice quiets.

Din faces the window. “You lost your parents?”

“Mhm. Something about a debt they couldn’t pay. I don’t remember and it doesn’t matter anymore… and you?”

His throat hardens, as it usually does when someone tries to bring up the past. “...Clone wars,” is all he answers. “I was a Foundling.”

“I see. I’m sorry.” She pulls the jewelry off her hands, her rings then her bracelets. “I know how hard that is…” She tosses it all on the night table. “As for me, since then, I just focused on one thing: surviving. I would do whatever it took. I’d go through the dumpsters. I’d beg. Sometimes, I’d get in trouble just so they’d throw me in jail. At least it meant a bed and slop which was better than most days. I… I didn’t have dreams or aspirations.” Her hand inches – just inches – towards his. “I didn’t have anything. And now, I…” She sniffles and her bottom lip trembles. As she wipes her eye, she forces a laugh through the tears. Keep it together. Come on. You’re a big girl, now’s not the time. “I’m sorry.” Another nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m like this.”

Din knows. He knows. “It’s okay,” he says. “I understand. I… I was lucky that I was saved. I had a family. It… it must have been hard for you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

I’m sorry. No one had ever said those words to her like that. I’m sorry you lost your parents. I’m sorry you had such a hard life. I’m sorry you went through all of that. Her throat chokes up and her vision blurs. The tears roll down her cheeks. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it.

She wants to hug him. She wants to hide her ugly, crying face in his chest. She wants to feel those hands that were so gentle with her moments ago around herself. But she has to be realistic. She’s pulled herself together in the past, all by herself, and now couldn’t be any different. Her fingers wipe away the tears and she inhales deeply. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. And, look. You don’t have to stay in Tatooine. I have a ship, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go after this is over.”

“And… where would I go?”

“Like I said: anywhere.”

She wants to tease him and say that that answer isn’t helpful, but she gets his meaning. Truth be told, she hasn’t the faintest clue of where that would be. It’s not as if anyone wants her. “...Okay.” She smiles and she hopes, but isn’t sure, that he smiles back – she wonders if he has a nice smile. When he moves, she stops him. “Din.”

“Yes?”

“...I’m going to win.”

He stands up slowly. “I know. Get some sleep.”

“Okay.” She watches him go to the door. “Good night – er, morning. Sweet dreams.”

“...You too.”

When he leaves, she reaches behind herself to pull the ties off her dress, letting it fall to the floor. She uses a nearby towel to wipe her face before she snuggles under the covers. Wait, something seems missing… Grogu. Wait, but didn’t Din say it’d be better for him to be in the room? That was the whole reason he made her sleep in the bed–

Oh. She chuckles to herself, hugging a pillow between her arms. That softie.

Outside her door, Din needs a moment. His back leans against the door as his head rests. Inside, his chest feels uneasy, abuzz with warmth. His heart races, pounding in his ear. When did he feel like this before?

He remembers: it was right after he rescued Grogu after giving him up and they were flying away on the Razor Crest. It’s that feeling of knowing he did something right with a mix of anxiety of what consequences he would reap for this.

But that’s just the thing: what consequences could possibly come out of this?

Maybe he’s thinking about it too much… or he just really needs the sleep.

[theogonies]

Sacrifices

prompt | koala x g/n!reader + christmas caroling

summary | dating a member of the revolutionary army has its challenges--but you're determined to show koala that she's worth it.

word count | 1.3k

content warnings | n/a, just sfw fluff!

winter holiday event masterpost

“I’m not so sure about this,” Koala worries. “What if someone recognizes me?”

“It’s okay,” you promise, wrapping your arm around her shoulders protectively. “We’ll blend right in with the rest of the group. That’s the fun of caroling, nobody is paying attention to you alone.”

“But what if someone recognizes me anyway? The whole thing will be ruined for everyone.”

It was only recently that Koala came clean to you about the full truth of her identity as a member of the Revolutionary Army. She’d seemed so nervous, as if you’d judge her for it, but if anything, it made you love her more.

Still, even though you understand the reason for her long absences now, it’s not often that you get to spend the holidays together, so it feels important to make tonight special. When you saw a poster outside the local tavern advertising a night of caroling, it seemed like the perfect opportunity for a date night–you just hadn’t predicted the extent of her concerns about being recognized as a Revolutionary.

“We can go home if you really want to,” you agree, “but I really do think we’ll be safe tonight. The Marines have other things on their minds this time of year, and besides, we’ll just be part of the crowd.”

“I hope so,” Koala says, but she still seems a little unconvinced.

Her cheeks and nose are flushed pink from the cold–and suddenly, an idea strikes you. You tug off your scarf to wrap it around her neck and loop it over the top of her head, hiding most of her face and shielding her hair from the frost.

“Better?”

She bends over to briefly inspect her appearance in a shop window. When she turns back to face you, you can tell by the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes that she’s happy.

“Mhm,” she says, wrapping her arms around you to nestle against your chest. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble for the things I do.”

“I can take care of myself,” you reassure her. “Besides, it’s not fair for you to have to hide all the time, if it keeps you from doing things that make you happy.”

She sighs, a little puff of warm air against your now exposed skin. “Those are the little sacrifices we have to make.”

You want to tell Koala that’s not true, and that she deserves to let her guard down and relax as much as anyone else does. But the conductor at the head of the small crowd is stirring into motion now, so maybe it would be better to show her instead.

Koala glances up at you nervously as she pulls away, taking her place beside you in the cluster of carolers as you begin to sing. She’s quiet at first, but once your group has made it through the first couple of songs, you can begin to pick out her voice from the crowd as she gains confidence.

It’s not surprising, really; at least for as long as you’ve known her, Koala has been a little bit of a performer. She just worries about drawing attention to herself in public.

But here, with the group all around you, she’s free to let the melody carry her though. It feels like a privilege, standing close enough to make out the rises and falls of her voice as she sings. Eventually her eyes drift closed, a soft smile on her face as she immerses herself in the sound of the music.

After a while, snow begins to fall again, frosting the tips of Koala’s eyelashes in flecks of white. At one point, your group takes a break between songs, and Koala takes your hand in hers and tugs the scarf lower so it isn’t muffling her voice.

“Thank you,” she whispers just before the start of the next song, pulling you a little closer to keep the both of you warm.

The cold is starting to feel more bitter with every passing moment, though, and it’s no small wonder that eventually, your little group starts to dissipate. It feels like a shame to distract Koala, so you just listen as she sings, her voice growing a little clearer with each caroller that leaves until there are just a few of you left.

You’re the first one to notice the marine.

He’s watching from the corner across the street, and it’s hard to make out his expression through the increasingly heavy snowfall, so for a moment, you have hope that he’s just listening to your little group’s carols. But then he lifts a mini-Den Den Mushi to his lips and says something into the receiver, so you surreptitiously elbow Koala, glancing in the marine’s direction.

She catches on instantly; another perk of her training as a spy, or of how well you know each other.

“Don’t worry,” she whispers, lacing her fingers between your own. “I’ve done this a million times. Just follow my lead.”

And then she’s tugging you down a back alley, her brows furrowing as she focuses on the path ahead of you. You glance behind you once to see the marine hot on your heels, completely ignoring the rest of the carollers.

“Stop!” he calls out to you as you vanish between the buildings on either side. “You’re under arrest for criminal association with the Revolutionary Army!”

Koala looks back over her shoulder at the marine just long enough to stick her tongue out before she’s leading you down a winding path of side-streets and alleyways. You can tell by her gait that she could move faster on her own, but she’s intentionally slowing herself just enough for you to keep up. She moves so confidently, too, even across the icy ground.

Eventually, she tugs you into a nook beneath the eaves of a shop, just out of sight from the main road.

“I think–” she pants, catching her breath. “I think we lost him. We should be safe here.”

It takes a second to collect your thoughts, but as soon as you do, you can feel your cheeks heat with a wave of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” you say, leaning back against the wall behind you. “That was my fault. I should’ve listened when you–”

“Don’t be.” Koala interrupts you and squeezes your hand reassuringly. “Don’t lie, it was a little fun leaving that pig in the dust, wasn’t it?”

“Maybe,” you say glumly. “It’s just… I wanted to prove to you that you could have some fun once in a while without putting yourself in danger, and instead I nearly got you caught.”

Koala scoffs and takes your other hand in her own, tugging you closer until you’re standing practically face to face. “What, you think I can’t take care of myself? It was you I was worried about, silly.”

“But…” you start, voice trailing off when she loops your scarf around your neck, then gives it a gentle tug, pulling you in closer until you’re close enough for her to softly brush her lips across yours.

Just like the first time, like every time she’s kissed you, it takes your breath away. She kisses with a kind of sureness that you’ve never experienced before, like she’s determined to prove how much she wants you.

“What was that you were saying?” she murmurs when she pulls away, her warm breath against your neck.

You give her one more kiss, fleeting but sweet, before you answer.

“I just want to see you safe and happy, Koala.”

She wraps her arms around you, leaning into your chest as the snow falls all around you.

“I feel safest knowing that I have you to come back to, (Y/N). As long as I know that you’re okay, I’ll be happy. Tonight has reminded me of that. So... thank you.”

[wiildhearrted]

@nezumivc103221 Nezumi doesn’t move when the wolves come out of the bathroom, one by one, like ladies out of a hair salon. They inspect Nezumi in their own respective way. One nudges his hand, the other merely sniffs, and when they both continue on their way to a clear target—the sofa—Nezumi assumes that he must have passed some kind of test.

Animals do have a keen sense of danger, and if Nezumi had meant harm to the house, Nikki or the wolves, he suspects he wouldn’t be standing there in one piece. A part of him is glad, relieved even, that the woman has the loyal animals by her side. A wolf is the best protector anyone can ask for, with sharp senses and a devoted heart.

When Nikki finally walks out, Nezumi is smiling. His lips don’t change shape, but there is amusement in his eyes. Nikki’s comment is funny, and the general atmosphere makes it easy to relax and feel welcome.

If, after all of this, Nezumi becomes wolf food, he has nobody but himself to blame for the lack of guard. Be there a threat in the air, Nezumi doesn’t sense a thing.

He follows where Nikki leads him, giving a side eye to the sofa, which has been taken up by Nikki’s roommates. He can only guess that he won’t be sleeping there, but he wouldn’t have minded the floor, either. He wouldn’t even be surprised if Nikki decided to kick him right back out as soon as the storm calms down, but those thoughts trot away as soon as Nikki starts pulling shirts out of a closet. Having shown Nezumi to a room, he understands that she intends to let him stay.

“Thanks, I’ll take anything dry at this point,” Nezumi admits, and his eyes follow the shirt that lands on the bed with clear interest. The jeans are starting to get cold and severely uncomfortable, but a comfy, dry shirt and a pair of sweatpants sound like heaven, even if he doesn’t get a chance to shower before he changes.

Nikki leaves the room, and Nezumi waits for the door to close before he peels off the wet fabric and changes into something dry and warm. It only feels warm because his previous clothes were cold, but he still relishes the sensations and exhales with contentment when the clothes hug his body just right. Whoever else is the real owner doesn’t seem to be around, so Nezumi feels no guilt or shame for taking advantage of the attire they left behind.

He walks out of the room in a T-shirt and sweatpants and this time, the smile from his eyes reaches his lips. His own wet clothes are wrapped in the towel, and Nezumi glances around, searching for the aforementioned drier. He finds it, stuffs his things in and sets a cycle, then goes to find Nikki. Barefoot he wanders to the living room, wet strands of hair still framing his face. His hair is dishevelled and tangled together; he runs a hand through the strands as he looks around.

“Are there more than Ryker and Duke?” he asks, louder in case Nikki is too far to hear him. “Do you have a shelter here? I haven’t seen any signs by the road …” He assumes that an official business would have some sort of direction or a name displayed by the road for people to find it. Then again, Nikki does seem to be completely by herself, and who runs an entire wolf rescue station on their own?

Though she isn't the most trusting, her guard is down. Her wolves had sensed no danger from Nezumi, and neither had she. Nikki isn't really worried about that changing either. Should Nezumi suddenly prove himself dangerous, the shifter has a nearly arrogant level of confidence in her ability to fend him off.

She leaves her new guest to change, heading towards the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee. It's decaf, as she's more focused on aiding Nezumi in getting warm than anything else. Keen ears and nose keep track of his position in her home -- so maybe her guard isn't completely down. His presence in her living room is known even before he speaks to her.

"Nah, it's just the two of them," she answers loud enough for him to hear as she pours them both a mug of coffee. She adds a small amount of creamer and sugar to hers, but leaves his black. "You drink coffee?" She asks, as she makes her way back into the living room with a cup in each hand.

A shake of her head as she enters his line of sight as a partial answer to his second question. "There's a wildlife sanctuary in a city about half an hour from here. I take care 'f all the critters there, but I had these boys before I moved out here." She holds the mug full of black coffee out towards Nezumi in offering. "What's got you all the way out here? 'm the only house around for miles on this side of the city."

[despodiamundare]

Inspecting the Greatest Love

-names shall be placeholders to preserve anonymity-

Without a doubt I was immature when I met -Oakgirl-, Oakgirl being the one who I call my Greatest Love. I was young, just leaving high school. At that time, I was a theater-kid, and I had found myself at theater rehearsals with feelings for another girl, whom we shall call -Fplunch- cause she's not gonna be in the story for too much longer.

Fplunch was quiet, but seemed to have the same interests I did. Video games and the like. I have a particular memory of making eye contact with her as she reclined, and this incited my imagination fairly well at the time. But then entered Oakgirl. Stunningly beautiful, more so than Fplunch by a good mile. (not that beauty is the measure of quality in a person but it does help people feel attracted to each other) Shortly after we met Oakgirl had no trouble telling me she was interested. Nothing so heinously carnal at first, she merely wanted me to text her. I know I didn't at first. I said I would, but I didn't. I don't remember if this was because I was wanting to pursue Fplunch over Oakgirl, or if it was more a matter of self-confidence. You'd think, with a direct approach from such a young women as Oakgirl was, I would be ready and willing to connect with her. But I can't assume things to have been so simple. By that point in my life, I had already begun porn use and had had two girlfriends already, both of which I had not really managed to keep an erection for. Imagine that, 19 and completely lacking sexual confidence! I'm sure this feeling is much more common for our generations than the previous ones who lacked the tech to disassociate from reality so completely. Anyway...

Oakgirl was persistent. She hunted me down once or twice after high school, saying I should text her. So I did, and we went on a date. The first time I believe was at a playground by the school. I remember sitting by the swings, and she told me of the troubles in her life, and I told her mine. I don't remember how I felt afterwards, but I know we met again and again until one night in the parking lot of a bowling-alley arcade I leaned over to the passenger seat and kissed her, and then the two of us made out for several hours.

And I remember seeing her standing in front of the sunflowers in front of her house, not so long after, and me telling her I think I love you. I knew it was fast. I had said it quickly to the previous two I had spent time with. But she was wonderful and fun. It felt right. And she said it back. And then we dated each other for just under four years.

During that time we built a friendship strong enough to etch memories and feelings that will likely last the rest of our lives. Eight years have passed since I broke up with her -yes it was I who was the devil- and now she has told me she never forgot me. I never forgot her, although my feelings I believe ebbed away easier for me; which is a key component in the contemplation I've been doing, will get to that.

What are the qualities that make up a strong relationship? Is it something mostly universally, or do these qualities change based off of the people? Can our feelings be fully trusted?

You see, Oakgirl and I dated and traveled through life together. Our humor intertwined and in many ways we were inseparable. She made me laugh, I made her laugh. We made each other smile. We were each other's first true sexual experience (I had attempted before but first found success with her). We had fun and had excellent chemistry, but I would find myself bored sometimes. We had different interests, and I felt like I could not write and bounce ideas off of her. Writing was important to me before meeting her, but it became much more important during that time as I discovered dungeon mastering and writing for dnd players to interact with and explore the worlds I had found in my head. So there was this disconnect. Yet we were so close that, as we continued, marriage did not seem so far-fetched. Yet married at 22? It felt so fast, and with this disconnect between our passions I felt like I would not feel fully complete if I married her. How could I know myself? So, as my parents helped encourage me to attend an art school, I found myself diverting to one out-of-state. I found myself telling her I was leaving, and that I didn't think we should do long distance. I remember her beginning to cry. I remember beginning to cry myself. I remember wonder "Why the fuck are you doing this?" And I still did it. I remember thinking if her and I got along so well, maybe there was someone else who I would get along with in a similar or better way that would write with me.

And thus time passed. And I had several terribly disappointing relationships. Nothing lasting longer than a couple weeks. I was a mess than continued to become less stable and more self-absorbed. I don't remember having heart break over Oakgirl. I remember she called me a couple of months after I had left, and we talked. I don't remember how I felt talking to her, hearing her voice again, but I know i didn't reach out to her after that or attempt to get the bridge open. I left her. Fairly wholly.

And yet still, as time went on, I realized I had not left her. I never deleted the pictures of her and I. They were too beautiful. Goofy friends reveling in a pure love. I found myself speaking like her. My humor was still the blend she and I had forged. It was funny. We were freaking funny. So the comedy I brought to people were her and I. And after 2-3 years, my mom told me out of nowhere that Oakgirl was engaged. I didn't think to stop it. I didn't think to reach out to her and tell her I missed her and thought about her near every day. I decided she deserved better than me and figured she had found someone better. She's a smart lady.

But in actuality she hadn't. She had found someone who became quiet foul. And it was at the beginning of 2023, that they had a huge falling out. A grand argument. And here's what happened folks. I felt it. I was in my room and it felt like my soulmate had died. I hadn't talked to her in years, and I felt her pain. I wasn't sure what it was the night I felt the feeling, I didn't know it was her right away, but the next morning I made the connection and became worried something had happened to her, so I reached out. She had changed phones, she didn't have my number. So I assumed she really didn't think about me anymore. I cried pretty hard when she texted back "who is this?"

But I summoned my courage and told her who it was. And she responded saying thank you, and that she wanted me to know that she was always in my corner. From this I could feel that she was dismissing me in way. Selfishly I couldn't see the love in her message, just the feeling that I shouldn't talk with her anymore. So I engaged to fully remove her from my thoughts. By August I was doing a meditation to remember my life, and realized I had worked through my memories of late high school and early college without thinking about her! Amazing and terrible. At the time I felt somewhat relieved. Good that I should be moving on, yes?

But then the rest of 2023 happened. I fell into some revelations that had me praying more. I prayed for a sign or to talk with/interact with my partner in crime. I wasn't thinking it was going to be Oakgirl, but I hoped i could be shown someone similar. And then, about a week later, Oakgirl texted me at midnight. I didn't see her text until 6am. Unlike when she called me a few months after the break up, I was beside myself. I ran out of the house in an ecstatic panic. Oakgirl! She was there! What she had written was beautiful. She remembered more than I had. The emotions in her had been etched into her, as she had been with me. She had said she didn't want anything serious with me, but selfishly I didn't really comprehend that part as I read. It was hard to read what she wrote and think that she did not want a second chance. Especially after we began to text and we made plans to see each other for New Years.

We talked over the phone. She reiterated she did not want to start anything. She said the ball was in my court, I thought she meant about starting something but what I learned later is she had been referring to us sleeping together. Best not to assume folks.

We met. It was beautiful. It was awkward. I felt that same apprehension in staying committed to her. I felt the same joy of being in her presence and hearing her voice and wit. I felt the same disconnect in interests, and the joy in making her breakfast and making her laugh. So much had stayed. But indeed, things had changed. And after two nights she said she would not stay the third. She said it was because her dad wanted her back home, I believe her, but I also believe she could not be with me as I was. It may well be she can simply be with me no longer.

You may see it now folks. You may not, as you have not read what she has written. But, to put it plainly, I broke her heart and then vanished. And then, after she reached out to me to support me, I come calling asking for her to trust me again. This, when I have done so little to change who I am in the interim? Mayhaps I am being a little harsh on myself, but certainly some of this is true.

Dear folks, it has now been near a month since I saw her again for the first time in eight years. My dear, sweet memory is pocketed full of holes after years of being a stoner, and I can no longer remember the direct emotions of the joy and stress of being with her again. I can only remember remembering these feelings. She has cut me off. She said such beautiful things, even more than before, over text after we had parted ways again. In my desperation I asked why it was a no, she would not say and I am glad she did answer my question. This was not my place to pester her like this, you see. I told her my door is open, and she told me her door is just slightly ajar.

And here we are now. I have seen many things saying I must let go, the most prominent of these being her direct words. She has asked me to go live my life to the fullest, and to know that she will always be supporting me.

And how foolish do I feel? I still feel apprehension. I still am not sure I have that deep drive to bring her into my life, to charge after her and shower her with my energy. A man should have that drive if he is to pursue a woman, yes?

And yet... yet she lives in my bones and soul. She is there. She will always be there. I can let her fade. I can go on. But a part of me does not want to. A part of me wants to make it work. A part of me wants to fight for her. But a part of me also says I must focus on understanding and growing myself. And another part says I need not wait to be someone different I need merely accept I am the version of myself I want to be and go after what I want. And part of me does not want to go after her. And part of me does. And I feel so damned confused. And scared. Because most certainly after seeing her again I have become aware of how wonderful a thing we had was. Certainly it need not be unique, as in she and I can find new loves that give us something great again, but as I understand it now it is wholly unique still for the both of us. Still at the least for me.

I worry my apathy, my desire to not be with her, is part of the shadow I have not integrated. It is either something real that I don't want to accept because I want to be beholden to this great thing we had and still have some ghost of. Or it is that I really truly do love her and can not accept it out of fear. At times one seems true, at other times the other seems true. See how I cannot rely on my emotions? It appears I must just make a choice.

And part of me is scared to make the choice to ask for her hand again, because what if I become dissatisfied? The answer is that is exactly what happens when you choose someone. You choose someone to love and learn so well that you begin to hate them. That you become dissatisfied and wonder if they are really worth it. Then you hunker down and get real close to them and you ask them if they'll reforge with you, and if they do then that I believe is True Love. But I am not sure. Is there love that comes easy? Natural love that flows just like the wind? If anything, that was us for a good while. Now I just don't know.

I wonder sometimes if we all make decisions together. If we are all truly one. If we are all connected together in some deeply significant way, are our actions the same? Could it be that life on earth has seemed to get shitty around the time I left her because it was me leaving what was good in my life, and thus I was doing what we all did, for our actions are all tied together. Can my acceptance of the good be part of a chance for us all to turn this boat around and make a future of peace instead of war? Is it a little dramatic and silly that I take my thoughts this direction? Is it a little self-centered to think that giving that sweet girl my whole life may be part of saving the world?

probably. but we do live in a real crazy story.

I probably had a more defined thing I wanted to talk about at the beginning of this post but I think this is a good spot right now. Should the iron become hot i shall strike this blog again. Should any eyes stray this way and make it to this point I thank you for taking time out of your day to read my woes and troubles. Please feel free to comment and ask questions or tell me why Bionicle is better than Star Wars because it absolutely is and you can't change my mind on that.

Most certainly, have a wonderful day and a wonderful time. Don't forget to live life fully and do your best to make decisions you won't regret.

[thistledown-au-warriors]

into the wild - chapter 20

< Chapter 19 || Index || Chapter 21 >

By the time Fire Heart returned, the camp was starting to look a little better. Parties of cats had clearly been patching and repairing continuously throughout the day. Frost Shine, Golden Flower and Hop Speckle were still busy fortifying the nursery walls, but the outer wall looked solid and secure once more.

Fire Heart trotted across the clearing to see if there was any fresh-kill around. He passed Sand Storm and Dusty Earth, who were preparing to leave in the next patrol.

“Sorry.” mewed Sand Storm, as Fire Heart sniffed hopefully around the eating area. “We ate the last two mice.”

Fire Heart shrugged. He would catch something for himself later. He headed back to the apprentices’ den, where Gray Stripe was sitting with his back resting against the tree stump, licking a forepaw.

“Where’s Raven Shadow?” Fire Heart asked as he sat down.

“Not back from his task yet.” replied Gray Stripe. “Look at that!” He held out his paw for Fire Heart to inspect. The pad was torn and bleeding. “Rose Fall and I were hunting near the RiverClan border and I cut my pad on a sharp stone in the stream.”

“That looks pretty deep. You should get Leaf Spots or Stone Pelt to take a look at it.” Fire Heart advised. “What was Raven Shadow's task?”

“Dunno, Rose Fall and I were already leaving when Tiger's Claw sent him.” replied Gray Stripe. He stood up and limped away toward the healers' den.

Fire Heart settled down, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the camp, and waited for Raven Shadow. After overhearing the warriors’ conversation last night, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something dreadful was going to happen to his friend. 

"Fire Heart?" A voice sounded near him. He looked up at Black Leopard. She had her head tilted at him. "Do you have a moment?"

Fire Heart blinked. This was Tiger's Claw's sister. He dipped his head respectfully. "Uhm, sure."

The tall black molly sat beside him, half a tail-lenght away. She was facing the gorse tunnel like he was, but her eyes were on him. Some moments passed. He shifted unconfortably. What does she want?

Finally, she spoke. "You are friends with my son, right?" At his nod, she continued. "I'm glad Raven Shadow has friends. He and Dusty Earth are too different to be close, unfortunately." Black Leopard hesitated. "Sorry about him, by the way. I know you two don't get along very well."

You can say that again, Fire Heart thought bitterly. He had been perplexed when he found out that the two apprentices were littermates.

"Dusty Earth has always been the fiercer of the two." She went on. "He liked to play rough and was confident and outspoken. Raven Shadow was more shy and cautious. He preferred to listen to the elder's tales than to spar. I believe he became pretty good at telling stories thanks to that." She purred. Fire Heart was feeling awkward, listening to all this. The warrior didn't seem to notice. "I asked Blue Fur to let my brother train him. We both agreed that could help build his confidence. Dusty Earth got Red Tail, so he was never jealous." Black Leopard sighed.

Fire Heart's eyes had been on the camp entrance, but he glanced at her now. He felt his neck fur bristle, but forced it flat. If only she knew how much of a mistake that was.

The black cat's gaze had darkened. "Parents generally will let their kits build independence by letting their mentors care for them more closely after they're apprenticed. But lately, Raven Shadow's confidence only dwindled more and more. He seems bothered by something. He won't talk to me about it. I know Dusty Earth is out of consideration for him, and Tiger's Claw…" her voice trailed off for a moment. Her eyes flashed. "... is busy. You and Gray Stripe are close to him. You seem like a sensible enough tom, from what I've gathered. Did Raven Shadow confide anything in you?"

Her face was now turned to him. Fire Heart's heartbeat quickened. He didn't dare look at her. What could he tell her? That her brother might have killed Dusty Earth's mentor, and Raven Shadow saw it? That Tiger's Claw was actively framing her son as a traitor? He swallowed, his throat feeling like dry sand.

"... No. He didn't confide in me about anything in particular that worries him, no." He finally meowed, still not meeting Black Leopard's gaze. It technically wasn't a lie. He just happened to be besides Raven Shadow when he said it. It could easily have been Gray Stripe or someone else instead. Raven Shadow hadn't meant to tell him anything.

Black Leopard gave him a long look. "I see." 

Fire Heart's gaze was fixed even more intently on the gorse tunnel. The leaves rustled, and his heart lurched as he saw Tiger's Claw enter the camp alone. 

The black warrior noticed him enter, and quickly got up. "Thank you for your time, Fire Heart." She meowed simply, and walked away.

Now alone, Fire Heart waited longer. The moon was high in the sky. Surely Raven Shadow should be back by now? He could see Dark Pine and Pale Tail still guarding Blue Fur's den. There was still no way to warn her without being overheard.

Tiger's Claw had brought back fresh-kill, which he was sharing with White Flower outside the warriors’ den. Fire Heart realized he was very hungry. Perhaps he should go and hunt — he might come across Raven Shadow outside the camp. 

As he wondered what to do, Fire Heart saw Raven Shadow trotting through the entrance of the camp. A thrill of relief raced through him, and not just because Raven Shadow was holding fresh-kill between his teeth.

The apprentice came straight over to Fire Heart and dropped the mouthful of food on the ground. “Enough for all three of us!” he mewed proudly. “And it should taste extra good — it’s from ShadowClan territory.”

Fire Heart gasped. “You hunted in ShadowClan territory?”

“That was my task.” Raven Shadow explained.

“Tiger' Claw sent you into enemy territory to hunt!” Fire Heart could hardly believe it. “We must tell Blue Fur. That was too dangerous!”

At the mention of Blue Fur’s name, Raven Shadow shook his head. His eyes looked haunted and shadowed with fear. “Look, just keep quiet, okay?” he hissed. “I survived. I even caught some prey. That’s all there is to it.”

“You survived this time!” Fire Heart spat.

“Shhh! Tiger's Claw’s looking. Just eat your share and keep quiet!” snapped Raven Shadow. Fire Heart sighed and took a piece of the fresh-kill. Raven Shadow ate quickly, avoiding his friend's eye. “Shall we save some for Gray Stripe?” he asked after a while.

“He went to see the healers.” Fire Heart mumbled through a mouthful. “He cut his paw. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“Well, save him whatever you want.” replied Raven Shadow, suddenly sounding worn out. “I’m tired. I need to sleep.” He stood up and pushed his way into the den.

Fire Heart stayed outside, watching the rest of the camp prepare for the night. He was going to have to tell Raven Shadow what he’d overheard in the forest last night. He needed to know just how much danger he was in.

Tiger's Claw was lying beside White Flower, sharing tongues, but with one eye fixed on the apprentices’ den. Fire Heart yawned to show the deputy how exhausted he was. Then he got to his paws and followed Raven Shadow inside.

The black tom was asleep, but Fire Heart could tell from his twitching paws and whiskers that he was dreaming. He knew it wasn’t a good dream by the tiny mewls and squeaks that his friend was making. Suddenly the black cat leaped to his paws, his eyes stretched wide in terror. His fur was standing on end, and his back was arched.

“Raven Shadow!” Fire Heart meowed in alarm. “Calm down. You’re in our den. There’s only me here!”

Raven Shadow looked around wildly.

“It’s just me.” Fire Heart repeated.

Raven Shadow blinked and seemed to recognize his friend. He collapsed onto his bed.

“Raven Shadow.” mewed Fire Heart seriously. “There’s something you need to know. Something I heard last night when I was out looking for the brambles.” Raven Shadow looked away, still trembling from his dream, but Fire Heart persisted. “Raven Shadow, I heard Tiger's Claw telling Dark Pine and Pale Tail that you betrayed ThunderClan. He told them you slipped away during the trip to Mothermouth and told ShadowClan that the camp was unguarded.”

Raven Shadow spun around to face Fire Heart. “But I didn’t!” he exclaimed, horrified.

“Of course you didn’t.” Fire Heart agreed. “But Dark Pine and Pale Tail believe you did, and Tiger's Claw persuaded them that they should get rid of you.”

Raven Shadow was speechless, his breath coming in gasps.

“Why would Tiger's Claw want to get rid of you, Raven Shadow?” Fire Heart asked gently. “He’s one of the Clan’s strongest warriors. What threat are you to him?” Fire Heart suspected he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the truth from Raven Shadow’s own mouth. He waited while his friend fumbled for words.

At last the black apprentice crawled closer to Fire Heart and whispered hoarsely into his ear. “Because the RiverClan deputy didn’t kill Red Tail. Tiger's Claw did.”

Fire Heart nodded silently, and Raven Shadow continued, his whisper cracking with tension. “Red Tail killed the RiverClan deputy—”

“So Tiger's Claw didn’t kill Oak Heart.” Fire Heart couldn’t help interrupting.

Raven Shadow shook his head. “No, he didn’t! After Red Tail had killed Oak Heart, Tiger's Claw ordered me back to the camp. I wanted to stay, but he yowled at me to go, so I ran into the trees. I should have carried on running, but I couldn’t leave while they were still fighting. I turned and crept back to see if Tiger's Claw needed help. By the time I got near, all the RiverClan warriors had fled with Mossy Patch chasing them, leaving just Red Tail and Tiger's Claw. Red Tail was watching the last warrior running away and Tiger's Claw—” Raven Shadow paused, then gulped. “Tiger's Claw j-jumped on him, knocking him behind a tall rock. He sank his teeth into the back of his neck and Red Tail fell to the ground, dead. That’s when I ran. I don’t know if Tiger's Claw saw me or not. I just kept running till I got back to the camp.”

“Why didn’t you tell Blue Fur or Black Leopard?” Fire Heart pressed gently.

“Would they have believed me?” Raven Shadow’s eyes rolled wildly. “Do you believe me?”

“Of course I do.” Fire Heart mewed. He licked Raven Shadow between the ears in an effort to calm and comfort his friend. He was going to have to find another opportunity to tell Blue Fur about Tiger's Claw’s treachery. “Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out.” he promised. “Meanwhile, make sure you stick close to me or Gray Stripe.”

“Does he know? About them wanting to get rid of me?”

“Not yet. But I’ll have to tell him.”

Raven Shadow settled silently onto his belly and stared ahead.

“It’s okay, Raven Shadow.” Fire Heart purred, touching the skinny black body with his nose. “I’ll help you get out of this.”

***

Gray Stripe padded into the den at dawn. Sand Storm and Dusty Earth had returned from their patrol a while before and were asleep in their nests.

“Hi!” mewed Gray Stripe, sounding more cheerful than he had for days.

Fire Heart woke at once. “You sound better.” he purred.

The gray tom licked Fire Heart’s ear. “Leaf Spots put some gunk on my cut and made me lie still for hours. I must’ve fallen asleep. By the way, I hope that chaffinch out there was for me. I was starving!”

“It was. Raven Shadow caught it yesterday. Tiger's Claw sent him into—”

“Shut up, you two.” growled Sand Storm. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Gray Stripe rolled his eyes. “Come on, Fire Heart.” he mewed. “Brindle Face has had her kits! Let’s go and visit them.”

Fire Heart purred with pleasure. At last, something for ThunderClan to celebrate. He looked down at Raven Shadow, who was still sleeping, and padded out of the den. With Gray Stripe, he trotted across the clearing toward the nursery. The rising sun made his pelt glow with warmth, and he stretched appreciatively, reveling in the suppleness of his spine and the strength in his legs.

“Stop showing off!” Gray Stripe called over his shoulder. Fire Heart stopped stretching and bounded after his friend.

White Flower was sitting outside the nursery, guarding the entrance. “Have you two come to see the new kits?” he meowed as Fire Heart and Gray Stripe approached.

They nodded.

“One at a time only, and you’ll have to wait. Blue Fur’s with her now.” White Flower told them.

“Well, you can go first.” Fire Heart offered. “I’ll go and see Violet Fang while I’m waiting.” He dipped his head respectfully to White Flower and headed off toward Violet Fang's nest.

The old cat was washing behind her ears, her eyes half-closed with concentration.

“Don’t tell me you’re expecting rain!” Fire Heart teased.

She looked up. “You’ve been listening to too many elders’ tales.” she meowed. “What would be the point of a cat washing their ears if they’re only going to get rained on anyway?”

Fire Heart’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “Are you going to see Brindle Face’s new litter?” he asked.

Violet Fang stiffened and she shook her head. “I don’t think I’d be very welcome.” she growled.

“But they know you saved—” Fire Heart began.

“A cat is very protective of their newborns. Especially when it’s their first litter. I think I’ll stay away, I'm not willing to test two young mothers.” Violet Fang replied in a tone that invited no argument.

“As you wish. But I’m going to see them. It must be a good sign, having new kits in the camp.”

Violet Fang shrugged. “Sometimes.” she muttered darkly.

Fire Heart turned and trotted back to the nursery. Clouds had covered the sun, making the air turn fresher. A fierce breeze tugged at his fur and rustled the leaves around the clearing.

Blue Fur was sitting outside the nursery. Behind her, Gray Stripe’s tail was just disappearing into the narrow entrance. “Fire Heart.” she greeted him. “Have you come to see ThunderClan’s newest warriors?” The ThunderClan leader purred. These were her first grandkits.

“Yes, I have.” he replied.

“Well, when you’ve finished, come and see me in my den.” 

“Yes, Blue Fur” Fire Heart mewed as she walked slowly away. He felt his fur prickle. Here was his chance to speak to her alone. Perhaps StarClan was on his side, after all.

Gray Stripe crawled out of the nursery entrance. “They’re really cute!” he mewed. “But I’m starving now. I’m off to find some fresh-kill. I’ll save some for you if I find any!” He blinked affectionately at Fire Heart and bounded away.

Fire Heart purred a good-bye and looked up at White Flower, who nodded his permission for him to enter the nursery. Fire Heart squeezed through the tiny entrance.

Four tiny kits huddled warmly in Brindle Face’s deeply lined nest. Their fur was gray and white with darker flecks, a perfect mix of their mothers, except for one tiny brownish-gray tom with white paws. They mewled and squirmed beside their birthmother's belly, their eyes shut tight.

“How are you feeling?” Fire Heart whispered to her.

“A little tired.” answered Brindle Face. She looked down proudly at her litter. “But the kits are all strong and healthy.”

“ThunderClan is lucky to have them.” Fire Heart purred. “I was just talking about them to Violet Fang.”

Brindle Face didn’t answer, and Fire Heart couldn’t miss the look of worry that flashed in her eyes as she nudged a straying kit closer to her.

He felt a tremor of anxiety in his belly. Blue Fur may have accepted Violet Fang into ThunderClan, but it looked like the old cat was still not trusted by all of the Clan. He touched his nose affectionately to Brindle Face’s flank, then turned and made his way out into the clearing.

The Clan leader was waiting for Fire Heart at the entrance to her den. Pale Tail sat at her side. The pale tabby warrior stared hard at the apprentice as he approached. Fire Heart ignored his gaze and looked expectantly at Blue Fur.

“Come inside.” she meowed, turning to lead the way. Fire Heart trotted after her. Pale Tail immediately stood up as if to follow them.

Blue Fur looked back at him over her shoulder. “I think I’ll be safe enough with young Fire Heart.” she meowed. Pale Tail looked uncertain for a moment, then sat down again outside the entrance.

Fire Heart had never been inside Blue Fur’s den. He padded after her through the lichen that draped its entrance. “Brindle Face and Mossy Patch's kits are lovely.” he purred.

"Yes, they are. They remind me of my three when they were born. They were also cold season kits." She seemed to be far away, looking into a happy memory, when her gaze suddenly darkened. 

“It's almost leaf-bare again. The snow always brings hunger, and death.” Then she glanced at Fire Heart, who was unable to hide his shock at her dark tone. “Oh, don’t listen to me." meowed Blue Fur, shaking her head impatiently. “The first cold wind always worries me. Come, make yourself comfortable.” She tipped her head toward the dry, sandy floor.

Fire Heart dropped onto his belly and stretched his paws out in front of him.

Blue Fur circled slowly on her mossy nest. “I heard from Misty Step about your battle training session yesterday.” she said when she had finally settled herself and curled her tail around her paws. “You fought well, young one.”

For once, Fire Heart didn’t stop to bask in her praise. His heart was thumping. This was the perfect moment to tell his leader his fears about Tiger's Claw. He lifted his chin, ready to speak.

But it was Blue Fur who spoke first, staring past him at the far wall of her den. “I can still smell the stale stench of ShadowClan in the camp.” she murmured. “I hoped never to see the day when our enemy broke into the heart of ThunderClan.” Fire Heart nodded in silent agreement, sensing Blue Fur was going to say more.

“And so many deaths...” She sighed. “First Red Tail, then Lion's Heart and Thrush Wing. I thank StarClan at least the warriors we have left are strong and loyal like them. At least with Tiger's Claw as deputy, ThunderClan may still be able to defend itself.” Fire Heart’s heart plummeted and an icy chill cut deep into him as Blue Fur went on. “There was a time, when Tiger's Claw was a young warrior, that I feared for the strength of his passion. Such energy can need careful channeling. But now I am proud to see how much respect the Clan has for him. I know he is ambitious, but his ambition makes him one of the bravest cats I have ever had the honor to fight alongside. He reminds me of the warrior his father used to be.”

Fire Heart knew at once that he could not tell Blue Fur his suspicions about Tiger's Claw. Not when Blue Fur looked to her deputy to protect the whole Clan. He would have to save Raven Shadow himself. He took a deep breath and blinked slowly, so that when Blue Fur turned and looked directly into his eyes, no trace of his shock and disappointment remained.

Her next words were quiet and full of concern. “You know Shadow Broken Tail will return. He made it clear at the Gathering that he wants hunting rights in all the territories. If he already took to fighting us for it, he'll do it again soon.”

“We fought him off once. We can do it again.” Fire Heart insisted.

“That’s true.” Blue Fur acknowledged with a wry nod. “StarClan will honor your courage, young Fire Heart.” She paused and licked a healing wound on her side. “I think you ought to know that, in the battle with the rats, it was not my fifth life that I lost, but my seventh.”

Fire Heart sat bolt upright, shocked.

Blue Fur went on. “I have let the Clan believe it was my fifth because I don’t want them to fear for my safety. But two more lives, and I will have to leave you to join StarClan.”

His mind was racing. Why was she telling him this? “Thank you for sharing this with me, Blue Fur.” he purred respectfully.

Blue Fur nodded. “I am tired now.” she rasped. “Off you go. And Fire Heart, I don’t expect you to repeat this conversation to anyone.”

“Of course, Blue Fur.” Fire Heart replied respectfully as he nosed his way out through the curtain of lichen.

Pale Tail was still sitting by the entrance. Fire Heart stepped past him and made his way toward his den. He didn’t know which part of his conversation with his leader had been more bewildering.

He was stopped in his tracks by a yowl of horror coming from the nursery. Frost Shine came sprinting into the clearing, her tail bristling and her eyes wide with alarm. “My kits! Someone has taken my kits!”

Tiger's Claw bounded over to her. He called to the Clan. “Quick, search the camp! White Flower, stay where you are. Warriors, patrol the camp boundary. Apprentices, search every den!”

Fire Heart rushed to the nearest den, the warriors’, and pushed his way inside. It was empty. He scrabbled through the bedding with his paws but there was neither sight nor scent of Frost Shine’s kits.

He charged outside and headed for his own den. Raven Shadow and Gray Stripe were already inside, pushing aside their nests, sniffing every corner. Dusty Earth and Sand Storm were searching the elders’ den. Fire Heart left them to it and charged from one clump of grass to another, pushing his muzzle into them, ignoring the nettles that stung his nose. There was no sign of the kits anywhere. He looked around the camp boundary. Warriors paced backward and forward, urgently sniffing the air.

Suddenly Fire Heart spotted Violet Fang in the distance. She was pushing her way through an unguarded part of the fern wall. She must have found a scent, he thought, and raced toward her as her tail disappeared into the greenery. By the time he arrived at the fern wall, she had gone. He sniffed the air. No kit-scent, just the bitter smell of Violet Fang's fear. What was she afraid of? Fire Heart wondered.

Tiger's Claw’s yowl sounded from the bushes behind the nursery. All the cats raced over to him, headed by Frost Shine. They crowded as closely as they could, jostling to see through the dense undergrowth. A loud wail of distress came from one of them. Fire Heart nosed his way forward and saw Tiger's Claw and Stone Pelt standing over a motionless bundle of dappled fur.

Leaf Spots!

Fire Heart stared in disbelief at her lifeless body, frozen, blood roaring in his ears. Stone Pelt had his face buried into her flank, his large body shuddering with his sobs. 

Who had done this?

Blue Fur stepped through the crowd and leaned over the healer's body. “She has been killed by a warrior blow.” she meowed softly, and rubbed her cheek against her son's.

Fire Heart craned his neck and saw a single wound on the back of Leaf Spots' neck. His head swam and suddenly he was unable to see clearly. The dutiful and wise healer was gone. The tortoiseshell would never calmly share her knowledge with him again, he would never listen to her and Stone Pelt discussing healing methods in their friendly way again.

Through his grief, Fire Heart heard a murmur at the back of the crowd that swelled into a single piercing yowl.

“Violet Fang is gone!” 

[primofate]

Haikyuu! Drabble: When you get hurt (minor injuries)

Note: Ugggghhhhhhh I love these men. Honestly. wtf. How can you have so many good guys in one anime. Also please don’t take this as a sign that I’ll stop posting for Genshin, but you know, give me some space to hype over my other fandoms please XD

Warnings: it’s seriously just plain fluff

Characters: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Bokuto, Ushijima

Kageyama

“What happened to your knee?”

Is the first thing he says, his face as serious as ever, eyes looking at your bandaged knee as he approaches you in class. You laugh nervously as you unwound the school bag away from your shoulder, placing it on your desk.

“Ah, I was walking Momo-chan last night...But you know, he’s gotten so big and I guess I was a little distracted...He saw a squirrel and just went running for it and...” you trail off, feeling Kageyama’s aura change. You knew he was about to call you reprimand you, and sure enough, he says “Idiot,” just as he would to Hinata.

On closer inspection you also had a bandage around your wrist. He guessed that you tried to hold on to the leash and it dragged your hand across the pavement. 

After berating you with that one word, he wouldn’t say anything else about it. But he would, whenever he could, show some concern that you wouldn’t usually see. “I’ll take that,” he grabs your lunch box from you and you look up at him all confused as to why he’s carrying it for you today. 

But, he stops at the door of the classroom and then turns around. “Actually, let’s just eat here,” as opposed to the school rooftop where the two of you usually ate. 

And then, at the end of the school day, before you could even lift your bag over your shoulder, he’s already there and lifting it on HIS shoulder. You’re dumbfounded. “Are you going to your club? I’ll walk you first then go to mine,” 

Then it hits you. It’s because you’re hurt, and he didn’t want you to strain your knee or wrist anymore. You secretly smile but let him do what he wants. There was no stopping him when he set his mind to it after all. “Tobio-kun, you know, it’s just a scrape, I can still do things by myself,” 

“Shut up and just let me do it...” he mutters under his breath, until he drops you off to your club and goes his own way. 

And then, as your nightly routine to walk Momo-chan, you’re stunned when you see your boyfriend standing there, outside your house gates. Hands in his pockets. “T-Tobio?” 

He lived close by, but still, you didn’t expect him to be there. He snatches the leash away from you, your dog is just happily gazing at the two of you, tail swishing wildly at the fact that TWO of his favourite people are walking him today. And again, Kageyama says,

“...I need to go for a run anyway,”

Tsukishima

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a Tsukishima-san,”

A girl in the basketball team uniform appears at the doorway of the gym, all members turn to her as she bows and straightens up. Tsukishima sighs in relief. Finally an actual excuse to rest from training. 

“That’s me,” he towers over the girl, who only blinks up at him, slightly intimidated. “Ah, uh, yeah...Y/N said that you have her spare glasses?” His eyebrows perk up. Right. You were in the basketball team, for some reason he always forgot that detail. 

He turns away without a word and goes to his bag. He did, indeed, have your spare glasses. You left it at his house last time during a study session, being the airhead that you are. He retrieves it but before handing the black box to the girl, he asks. “What happened to the ones she has?” 

He wasn’t thinking much of it. Perhaps someone accidentally stepped on it, or maybe you even accidentally broke it.

"The ball hit her face,” 

“Is she--”

The words of worry practically dies on his lips. He could feel and sense Yamaguchi and Sugawara listening in to the conversation and he’d drop dead before getting caught being worried for someone. But still, this is why he always told you that you needed sports glasses. A scratch to the eye could be dangerous.

He sighs pretty loudly, and turns to face Sugawara who was off court, standing next to Yamaguchi who was also taking a small break. “Sugawara-san, I’ll be back,” There’s a big smile on his vice captain’s face, same as Yamaguchi who knew that his friend was actually worried. 

Tsukishima ignored their stupid smiles.

“Oh! Kei,” You look up as the door to the school clinic opened, you were just sitting on one of the beds, legs moving back and forth and waiting for your teammate to retrieve the spare glasses for you. Tsukishima said that he’d handle it and as he passed the black box to you he grabs your chin and turns it in his hands, looking at your eyes. 

There was a cut under your left eye that was already patched up. He releases your face when he was sure it was actually nothing serious, only to cross his arms and smirk at you. “See, I told you that hard head of yours would come in handy. Also receive the ball with your hands, not your face,”

You puff your cheeks out in annoyance and put your spare glasses on, feeling brand new. “Sure did, but my glasses aren’t as strong as my skull,” you sulked and he only blinked. “and I was taking a break! Then suddenly I see the ball coming at me, I don’t think that’s my fault!”

“I believe you. Your team has horrid ball passing skills after all,” he’s relentless with his insults but you knew that’s just the way he was. The fact that he came all the way to the school clinic told you enough about his worry. So, you ignore his last remark and smile up at him, “Thanks for checking on me, Kei,” 

He clicks his tongue but places his hand on your head, “Let’s get you new ones tomorrow, and maybe now you’ll listen to me about those sports glasses,” 

Oikawa

“She’s absent today,”

Oikawa’s face fell. You hadn’t told him anything about being sick or being unwell today. He wondered what happened. However, despite his looks and carefree personality, the Aoba Johsai captain was someone who was actually quite detailed. “In that case, can someone pass me her homework? I’ll go and deliver it to her!”

Safe to say your classmates were always surprised at how much the captain doted on you. He wasn’t always doing it openly, but at least he was thoughtful and thorough.

“Y/N-chan~ How could you leave me all alone in school today?” You could practically hear the pout from the other side of the line. He’d gone to the school grounds to get some private time to call you. 

“Sorry Toru, I can’t really walk properly. It should be fine in a few days though,”

His heart did a little leap, worry etching itself on his features. “What do you mean? What happened?”

The pout in his voice was gone, replaced by what you always called “the captain voice”. 

“I sprained my ankle...It’s a long and stupid story...” you laughed but you heard him sigh. “Well, I have no choice then. Your prince will visit you after-school today!”

You didn’t think he really would. He had volleyball practice and he took those seriously. But at 8 pm, just as you finished dinner, your doorbell rang and next thing you knew he was in your room. 

Your mother just LOVED him. Sometimes you thought even more than you. She was unaware of how hyper Oikawa actually was. He certainly knew how to play his cards right. 

“Alright princess, let me see that foot,” While you were sitting on your chair he practically bent down on on one knee and inspected it. He did kind of look like a prince like that, with his volleyball jacket. Then he suddenly plopped on the floor with his legs crossed. “AAhhhh! That sucks you won’t come to school for a few days!” He was whining again and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

Without fail, every day that you were absent, he showed up at your house after practice.

Bokuto

It’s not that you were particularly clumsy. You were actually a pretty careful person, and that’s why Bokuto always trusted your cooking skills over his. Baking a cake shouldn’t be too hard, but you were rather unfamiliar with the oven at his place.

“Mm, so, it says here to just leave it in the oven for 45 minutes!” he has this big smile on his face and you shake the batter in the round container again. The oven had already been pre-heated and when you open the door to it, hot air greets you. 

You took the round container in your hand, and push it in. It sits just at the front of the oven and you really hate it when that happens, so, with your boyfriend still focused on the recipe (and without mittens cause you think it’ll just be quick push) you try to inch the round cake pan further in with your hand. At one point, you accidentally touch the inside of the hot oven and you recoil your hand with a loud gasp. 

“WHAT?! What what what?!” Bokuto flings the recipe book away and clutches at your hand. In all honesty it didn’t hurt that much, but you had made contact on the hot surface just enough for it to sting and startle you. “Nothing Kou, I just accidentally touched the oven,” you laugh sheepishly but he’s pulling you over to the sink.

The boy is panicking.

“Water!” You’re amazed at how he even knows what to do, running water now splashing on your hand. It wasn’t even enough to burn you, it was just a little red, that’s all. “K-Kou, it’s totally fine,” 

But he turns to you with a waterfall of tears running down his eyes and his hair has deflated from it’s usual spiky style. “I-I’m so useless!” 

‘Ah there he goes,’ you think. But you’ve been trained by Akaashi how to handle these kinds of outbursts from him. “Not at all Kou-kun, you mixed the batter so perfectly. I usually get tired when I do that, but you have really strong arms! Next time I’ll let you handle the oven too, is that okay?”

He stares at you blankly for a moment. The tears have disappeared and his lips oh-so slowly curve into a smile. He gives you a thumbs up, back to his usual flair and confidence. “Of course! Leave it to me!” and he laughs triumphantly while you thank Akaashi in your mind.

Ushijima

Cooking for him and Tendo at the dorms was like a weekly routine. It was mostly for Ushijima, but Tendo liked crashing the cooking party too.

“Be careful.” Ushijima says as he passes the vegetables for you to chop. You did so without any incident. The cooking itself passes by without any incident, until your hand slip off the plate you’re holding and it comes crashing down the floor, shattering into pieces, some of the pieces flying off in different directions.

Ushijima and Tendo perks up in alarm at the sudden sound, with Ushijima being the first to rise on his feet and assess the situation. You’re about to carefully just move away from the mess you made, shards littering around your feet. “Don’t move,” Ushijima tells you, noting that you were only wearing his over-sized slippers. He sees that one of the shards has cut your foot. It was small, but since it was fresh, it was still bleeding. 

“If you move you’ll hurt yourself, wait for me,” you do as told as Ushijima first sweeps off the rest of the shattered glass with a broom, disposes of it. Next he comes to you with a new set of slippers, puts it down on the now clean floor, and tells you to carefully slip out of the ones you have on, he was cautious about the small pieces. Only when you were neatly into the new set of slippers did he clean off the rest of the glass.

Tendo only sat and watched in amusement. His captain was very thorough, even with things like that. “I’ll go and get a first aid kit~” he offered as he stood and sauntered off. “Y/N, sit over there,” he pointed at a nearby chair and you merely follow. There was no use saying no to him, you knew he just wanted to check if everything was in order.

Sure enough just as Tendo comes back with the kit, Ushijima inspects your foot, eyes scanning all around it. It seems that there was only that one cut and it’d be easy to treat. You weren’t surprised that Ushijima knew what to do, watching him take some cotton and pour some alcohol on it, muttering under his breath that it would sting a bit. 

By the end of it, the cut on your foot was disinfected and bandaged properly. “Oohhhh! Good job Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendo praised his friend for the clean job and Ushijima nodded his head with a small “Mm,”

“Thank you,” you smile up at him, “and sorry for the plate, I wasn’t paying attention,” 

Ushijima makes a thoughtful sound, perhaps a little confused by your apology “...The plate is of no great value,” he simply says “it can be replaced.”

"I can’t say the same for you Y/N, so it’s good that you weren’t gravely hurt,” The blush on your cheeks is obvious and Ushijima doesn’t understand what has you so flustered, he’s just being his honest and straightforward self. 

Tendo only laughs at the display.

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[blueaetherr]

oscitancy

pairing: trent alexander-arnold x gn!reader [they/them]

warnings: [implied] & subtle lack of clothing

summary: the one where the two get to relax for a minute

When the day went to rest, when they returned to each other from school or a football game or whenever there was simply nothing to do—Trent and Y/N liked to treat themselves with a late relax session. A way to finish off the week or day in peace, rather primal and benign. A moment or two away from social media and everything else artificial and adjusted about life. It gave them a moment of Trent and Y/N. Something quite rare and cherished during a time when sometimes the two just couldn't receive enough of one another.

Wandering into the shared bathroom, the two usually opted for a warm bath together first before anything else. Excluded and private and of bare bodies, it could carry or lack vulgar behaviour depending on the mood.

Maybe carrying that aspect when he would nip at their skin or squeeze one part and then another, forgetting the intent of taking a bath. But then a warm bath could lack. When they would help one another undress and fall into the bath, or hold hands for that extra feeling of being close even though Trent and Y/N were already body to body, soaked and evenly bare. Or even when Trent leaned forward on their shoulder and Y/N fell back on his chest. And they would talk, and laugh, and wait out the comfort of a warm bath.

Trent frowned, inspecting the product they held in their hand. "I feel like some of this is a bit unnecessary." Time spent together tending to one another's skincare was delicate and newly common. It was something Trent very much enjoyed, even with his lack of knowledge around it—rather clueless. How can you not enjoy being cared for by another? Not that he would admit it out loud. "What even is that?"

"You don't need to know." They applied the mask to his cheeks first, laughing to themself when Trent closed his eyes shut at the cold feeling. So dramatic, they thought. He could never get over the cold shocks despite feeling them more than enough to get used to them.

It started off as something reserved for Y/N time. Then Trent came into the picture, and prioritising skincare became a Trent and Y/N pass time. Knowing little to nothing about anything, they would help him tend to his skin. Not that there was much to correct of Trent. From one facial feature to another—brown (beloved) eyes, lips, hair—he was perfect, quite possibly by far too much. A pretty boy, in simple, that's what he is.

Y/N stopped for a moment and focused on Trent, lips curling up for him. An outward grin. "Hi there."

And the thoughts were mutual. He would find himself staring at them as they worked on his face, soon falling into a daze. Suddenly, that cold feeling that he hated—the one he couldn't seem to get over—would die down. Inspecting everything that they weren't, inspecting them for everything that they were. And he would leave himself vulnerable when they caught onto his staring, looking away all too shy and inward to admit to his acts.

Or Trent would, much like now, respond with confidence and pucker his lips in hopes for a kiss. Wrapping his hands around them in hopes of bringing them closer. And, of course, never was this confidence turned away by Y/N, pressing a kiss to his lips, one small and full. A stunning person, even with minimum effort, that's what they are.

The two pulled away from one another, causing Trent to sigh. "Hey," he said, leaning his cheek on their palm as he looked up at them from his seated place. Eyes caving in, unfocused and caught in a daze for the moment, Trent made it hard to differentiate between exhaustion and admiration towards another.

There was fun with what the two chose to do. Some singing and dancing (or whatever Trent was doing), where they would sing and he would voice the adlibs. It was atmosphere goofy and dramatic and quiet all at the same time. The way Y/N and Trent woke up with the sun was the same way they wanted to lay to rest—together and in rather happy spirits. Because at night, when day activities were completed or left for the following day, everything would eventually fall short from energy to attention span towards one another.

The day wore the two out but the night together let them settle into fatigue with ease. Where conversations kept going until they no longer could, voices becoming drowsy and low and narrow until they faded out into yawns and hollowed breaths. Where kisses were left unfinished and forgotten once they fell back into bed with one another, falling into a low tempo.

[no-droids]

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt.  You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours.  But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to.  You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did.  Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints.  Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does.  Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it.  But truthfully, you didn’t want to.  You were worried about him—still are, actually.  But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on.  He’s been through way worse, and you know it.  You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers.  He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening.  Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure.  All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation.  After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield.  It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips.  The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards.  To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster.  “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you.  “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code.  My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound.  “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment.  “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it?  You blink.  No, it doesn’t.  You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name.  You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever.  “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not.  “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show.  Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here.  Something could’ve happened.  Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it.  Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina.  Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot.  “They’re fodder.  Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.”  He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass.  “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions.  Tied specifically to Guild contracts.”  Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare.  “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties.  Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him.  “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace.  “Not sure I’d care too much if you did.  It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit.  Shit.  What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed.  Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company.  He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied.  Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence.  Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy.  It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this.  Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve.  Karga is a nice guy, right?  He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando.  And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too.  How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder?  You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?”  You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?”  He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice.  Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly.  You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way.  You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity.  “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it.  “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you.  If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice.  If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it.  You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal.  “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head.  “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out.  “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold.  It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to.  It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando.  You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave.  You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides.  He said he wants to help you?  This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?”  He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head.  The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?”  You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours.  “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously.  “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances.  You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment.  “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away.  He helped you out, you’re halfway through this.  Now comes the exchange.  Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you.  “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far.  Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late?  He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face.  “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table.  There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task.  “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…”  Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it.  This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here.  He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it.  “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you.  “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay.  Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much.  Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again.  Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.”  You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you.  “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay.  Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly… 

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it.  Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck.  It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward.  You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?”  You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs.  “Of course you don’t.  Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit.  This is not at all how you expected any of this would go.  You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request.  There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary.  Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum.  “You said you’re here on his behalf.  You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh.  Oh, no.  This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits.  It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table.  You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here.  It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!”  He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good.  Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t.  You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you.  You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach.  He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him?  Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried.  Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before.  Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp.  The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him.  “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend.  The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air.  Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now.  You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all.  It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe.  “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer.  It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet.  Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense.  You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him.  You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!”  A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab.  Right in fucking front of him.  “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck.  Great.  Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t.  You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out.  Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now.  You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it.  Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

*** 

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried.  You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual.  You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing.  Was there a confrontation, you wonder?  Is he okay?  He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though.  As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you.  Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view.  The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace.  He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?”  He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down.  “Are you alright?  Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say.  How are you going to tell him?  He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say?  You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh…  I-I’m sorry, I just…”  But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him.  “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?”  He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him.  “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out.  His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him.  If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands.  “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you.  Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess.  “It’s okay.  You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak.  He’s lying for your benefit, he must be.  When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—”  You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…”  His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?”  You have to think about it.  Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already?  You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility.  “Um… no?  I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?”  He asks, taking a small step forward.  “You don’t know?  Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes.  You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now.  It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…”  Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him.  “I don’t know, I’m not like you.  I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better.  I think he was probably just being normal.  He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb.  This is what’s bothering him?  Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work?  It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played.  He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them.  How are you supposed to take that?  Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning?  You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?”  You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest.  It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason.  He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you.  Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.”  He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly.  Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him.  “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.”  His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?”  You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm.  In another weirdly stupid, primitive way.  You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it.  Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode.  Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before.  You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now.  He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.  “Maybe.  He could’ve just been trying to be friendly.  What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit.  “Did he scare you?”

“For me?”  You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards.  Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless.  “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?”  Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze.  “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds.  The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid.  Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you.  Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you.  You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours.  You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now.  Achy.  Hot.  Needy.  Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?”  He asks you after a prolonged silence.  His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained.  Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you.  “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice.  Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards.  He wants to do this here?  Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word.  Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?”  You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck.  You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought.  Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to.  It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker.  You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it.  Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long.  You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you.  You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?”  Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner.  You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him.  He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss.  Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this?  Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?”  Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you.  Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull.  Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment.  You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you.  “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet.  This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest.  Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling.  “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need.  Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point.  You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?”  Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him.  You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing.  Nothing.  You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing.  Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time.  Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability.  You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better.  His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again.  You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view.  Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass.  The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time.  His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open.  You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit.  His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you.  The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here.  If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body.  You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it.  You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort.  Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most.  Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this.  You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too.  It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too.  Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place.  You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace.  Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance.  You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him.  He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you.  Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can.  It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning.  You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer.  His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting.  Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?”  He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it.  “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could.  He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle.  You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to.  You could struggle.  If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it.  You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time.  Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him.  You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more.  It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too.  Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t.  Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock.  Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him.  There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin.  You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you.  You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears.  Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways.  You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb.  Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off.  You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up.  The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours.  Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works.  Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too.  At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly.  You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal.  You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face.  “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do.  Easy.  He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed.  Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body.  You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep.  He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal.  The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again.  You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation.  Come on, work.  Move forward.  Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly.  Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled.  Ran over by a truck.  Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful.  This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart.  The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones.  You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs.  It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever.  It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it.  “Hey.  Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know?  You figured you’d be way ahead of him.  You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here.  The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over.  You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point.  It’s easy, you like it.  Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back.  Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway.  It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin.  Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine.  He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin.  His bar of soap, not yours.  They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize.  How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone.  The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not.  Hot water, not freezing cold.  Standing upright and supporting you.  Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue.  You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again.  Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this.  Skin to skin contact.  Someone to hold.  Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar.  Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest.  You want to tell him not to leave.  Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay.  You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed.  You don’t know.  But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.  

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know.  You know.  From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection.  But you know him.  You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return.  You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you.  Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary.  Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to.  It wasn’t said so he could say it back.  It just is.  Some things don’t need explanations, they just are.  You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it.  You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word.  It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels.  There’s something hidden underneath.  You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired.  You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless.  He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber.  “I’m…  not allowed to ask.  I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense.  Was that a translation?  Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest.  It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it.  You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows.  “You can.”

[whaleofatjme1920]

In the Tent, Under His Arms (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: literally just smut, knotted dick, breeding kink kinda?, possessive, I feel like EJ is his own warning, dubcon, rough, degrading(?), slight praise, if you are a minor DNI]

[AN: this thing is 8K words so have fun. Ngl, I had a lot of inspiration from the Wolf Man from Darkwood, so like,,,,,, that's gonna show up here as influence srry. ily <3]

To say you are nervous as you traverse the woods was an understatement. You could hardly breathe as you quietly stepped through the darkness that curtained the forest around you. Small little mushrooms and pieces of paper dotted your way as you continued to shine your flashlight at the deer path before you. Branches seemed to spring out from tree trunks in the blink of an eye scratched at your clothes as you pushed yourself forward. Every little sound that didn’t emit from you set you on edge.

How the hell did you even get here? You woke up on the floor of a rundown house. Cold tile had been your mattress as you slowly found your bearings. A quick glance around the darkened room showed a barren room, its walls littered with papers worried about a tall man in the woods. The only warnings were to watch out for him, fear him and not get caught by him lest you be taken. But you were still confused, scared and unsure.

Instead, you found yourself doing the only thing you could really think of. Securing your safety. This went on for a week without a hitch (save for the odd faces that peered into the windows every now and then) until one fateful morning where you were greeted by the only sentient living being that wished to talk to you since… Well… Since before you ended up here.

You had taken up refuge in a closet for the night and after stretching, headed to the kitchen to make something when you were rudely greeted to a… man?

Leaning against your counter drinking some coffee he’s already brewed.

You were about to rush back to your closet and pick up your blade when the man lowly chuckled.

A deep silence fell between the two of you as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. From the silence came low, rumbling, almost animalistic breathing.

It was then that you finally got a clear view of who was leaning in your kitchen. You grounded yourself in the doorway, not budging as the man slowly sipped from the coffee mug. You took notice of what he was wearing as he did so - a big, dark blue hoodie, and on top of that, a big, brown jacket. He had worn blue jeans. Steel toe boots.

The most unsettling parts of it all?

He had ashy, grey skin. From his profile, you could see shark-like teeth, grinning at you like a wolf.

“It’s really rude to stare, sweetheart,” the grey skinned man interrupted before taking another languid sip. “Have some coffee. I went outta my way to get it for you,” he finished before you could even begin to register what he was saying.

You awkwardly looked off to the side as words failed to build in your mouth. However, your mind continued to race with thoughts.

The grey skinned man verbally rolled his eyes with a huff before placing his mug down. Then, he quickly turned himself around and opened up one of the cabinets, fished for a mug, settled on a slightly chipped white one, inspected it, then placed it on the counter beside his. His clawed hand reached for the pot of coffee and grasped it before pouring the pleasantly warm and aromatic liquid into the slight chipped mug.

“Here,” he hummed as he held out the mug to the still frozen in place you. “Before it gets cold.”

You felt immediate disgust but hit it from your face as you cautiously stepped forward.

Sighing deeply, he closed the space between the two of you by taking confident steps forward.

On instinct, you held your hands out and took the mug.

He smiled in approval before leaning back on the counter to drink from his mug. “Sorry about the lack of sugar and creamer,” he said in passing as he watched you take a slow, shy sip. “You’ve seen the state of things out there, haven’t you? Can’t find shit even if I tried.”

Upon deeming the drink not poisonous and not harmful to your wellbeing, you felt more at ease and took more confident sips. “Who are you?” You asked, effectively breaking the semi-comfortable silence.

“A medic in some circles, a trader in others,” he began, flashing his rows of pearly white sharp teeth. “Call me Jack.” His gaze then lowered, eyes still obscured by his hood. “And what about you, sweetheart? How did you find yourself in this wicked place?”

You shifted uncomfortably before leaning in the doorway and taking another sip from the mug. “I don’t know,” you muttered. “I woke up here,” you gestured to the cold, checkered tile the two of you were currently standing on, “and got to work,” you finished. Your eyes remained trained on the floor. You remembered the first few days you were here - how awkward and strange they were. The feelings of confusion and anger. Stumbling around in the dark.

Jack nodded thoughtfully at your words before he finished his mug in one big gulp. He then smirked at you, the corners of his lip tilting upwards before he began stalking towards you.

Instinctively, you backed up, ready to defend yourself.

Jack chuckled under his breath. He smelled of wet soil and pine. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as he stopped just an arm’s distance in front of you. He looked down at you, his eyes still observed by the darkness as you struggled to see what he looked like. His clawed hand suddenly reached out, and you flinched. He grinned, and took his lifted hand to hold your chin before slowly tilting your gaze upwards to meet his in full. “Let me get a good look at those pretty eyes,” he murmured.

And that when you saw his, or rather, the lack of. Just empty caverns. Dark, soulless, but they looked at you with such hunger.

Jack watched your pretty eyes flutter, mostly in nervousness before he leaned down. His sockets bore into you. His other hand left his coat pocket to your face, clawed came closer and closer to your eyes making you scrunch your nose. “Find me in the burnt clearing. I’ll be waiting for you.” His index finger came up to the bridge of your nose and slid down it. He chuckled at your confused expression before he tapped your nose.

When you reopened your eyes, he was gone.

You spent a few days wondering if you should go or if it was a trap. There was really no one to ask and the faces that peered into your window didn’t seem to give an answer one way or another. Your gut, however, kept telling you it was a bad idea.

That was what you were sticking with: it’s a bad idea, you shouldn’t go.

So, why were you stumbling through the woods near sundown looking for him? It was stupid, you thought, that you could be walking into your death. You quickly slashed through the brambles until you made your way to a small clearing. A light shined in the short distance when it wasn’t obscured by rapidly growing branches. A quick glance down at your map showed that this was the eyeless man’s camp.

Your fingers tightened around your blade as you left the heavy foliage to inspect the camp. There was a sizable tent followed by various crates strewn about. In the center was a fire pit and across from it was a worn down green couch. How did that even get in here?

You carefully came closer to the roaring fire with timid steps while trying to calm down your breathing. A quick glance around and there was nothing but silence to accompany you as the sun sunk further and further down the horizon. You let your guard drop for just a moment before prickling back to attention. A presence behind you made you swivel, lurch and raise your blade faster than what you were capable of.

“Took you long enough. You do know that it’s rude to keep people waiting, don’t you?” Jack states with a small frown before bursting into a fit of laughter at the sound of your still drumming heart. “What has you so nervous?” He questions, eyeing you like you are nothing but a piece of meat.

“This is your camp?” You say, more out of observation than waiting for affirmation.

“It is,” Jack hums. “Good to see you made it. I’ve seen some proxies barely make it here by the skin of their teeth,” he continues as he sits down by the fire.

“What?” You ask as you quirk up an eyebrow.

Jack picks up his back to rest between his knees and rummage through it before beckoning you over to sit next to him.

You cautiously sit next to him on another crate. You avert your attention from him back to the fire.

“Proxies are servants of this tall guy,” Jack explains after ensuring you took your seat. “They run these woods essentially, but they never come to my neck in fear of the things that exist past what is safe,” he grins slightly, still rummaging in the bag. “Out here, it’s just me and the things who lurk.”

“The things that lurk?” You whisper in a questioning tone.

Jack nods again and pulls out a little journal. He begins to thumb through it as he continues to explain to you. “Things known as the Rake, the notdeer, the proxies that succumb to their sickness early, y’know, the things that kill.” He finally finds what he’s looking for.

You turn your attention to the journal and see he’s amassed a collection of polaroid photographs of the things that lurk.

“See? These are some proxies,” he hands the book to you and points at the pictures. “And here is one of the things that lurk.” His clawed finger shows you what used to be a proxy, their body torn to shreds, organs hanging everywhere, and in the center, what you can describe as a monster hungrily devouring their flesh. “I have a lot of good shit out here, and most of them never make it past this guy.”

You shiver slightly and Jack furrows his brows for just a moment.

“Sorry,” he apologizes for a moment before briefly taking the book from you. “Anyways, very few people make it out of the woods unless you’re a proxy or me. We used to make it out a lot easier but there was this one guy, ugly fucker,” he hisses. “That left the woods after burning down the trees to the main road - one of our crossing points. The trees grew back so fast after the tall guy’s wrath and now we’re all stuck here as a result. That ugly fucker? He disa-fucking-peared.” Jack growls deeply as he says it, clearly not happy with the memory.

“I’m… Sorry,” you apologize awkwardly.

Jack shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, yeah?” He hums. “Anyways, flip a few pages and you’ll see the ugly fucker’s hovel before he left.” He pointed to the picture of a house similar to the one you were staying in.

Small world?

You studied the man who stood in the picture. He wasn’t that ugly in your opinion.

Jack then shows you other photos, places, effigies, proxies and one of a brilliant mansion. Apparently, you need to stay away from that place at all costs. There’s also pictures of him and other people, some of them you recognize from your time on earth? Is that right? Are you still on earth?

Jack explains a bit more to you. Mostly about this place. It’s like a pocket. Somehow, you were taken and brought here for a reason. Jack suspects it’s because the tall man, also known as the Slender Man, wants to make you a proxy.

“You’ll lose your humanity that way,” he tsks. “And that’s why I called you here. Not for pictures and conversation,” the warmth that was in his tone over reminiscing over things and learning about others is gone.

You notice it almost instantly. You watch as his posture changes and so too do his facial features. You know he means business now.

“I know you’re looking for a way out,” he begins. “I can help you with that.” Jack notices your eyes light up for the first time in well… It’s the first time he’d seen you look so hopeful.

“What’s the catch?” You ask as you slowly lean away from him.

Before Jack could say anything, a shriek was heard off in the distance. Jack’s face twinkled with excitement for a second before he nodded his head over to his tent.

It caught you off guard and sent your heart racing before yet another shriek emitted from the dark forest around the two of you.

“It’s dark,” Jack says as his gaze goes back over to his tent again. “Stay here for the night. Those things out there don’t really fuck with me,” he muses. When you don't answer, he stands up. “Unless you wanna try your luck out there, sweetheart. By all means…” He trails off as he slowly begins walking over to his tent.

You swallow your pride and stand up much too fast and catch pace with him.

Jack lets out an amused chuckle as he opens the flaps to the tend and allows you entrance.

You were immediately shrouded in the scent of petrichor and wild flowers. Surprisingly, it didn’t smell near as rough as you had originally expected. You felt a tad awkward standing in his tent as he zipped it up.

“You can sit down,” he says as he ensures the flaps were shut properly.

You nod more to yourself than anyone else and take a few more steps inside. It was tall enough that you could stand without brushing your head on the roof. On the floor interspersed with grass were carpets. It looked like a nest was in the near middle? Tons of blankets and two twin sized mattresses laid side by side were on the ground.

You glance around and see a small little desk, some writing supplies, just normal home stuff. Why was Jack living out here? There were tons of vacant houses.

Instead, you brush the thought off and settle on sitting timidly at the end of one of the blanket covered mattresses.

“Good choice,” Jack says as he procures from his pocket a box of matches. Then, he reaches over on the little desk for a kerosene lamp. After lighting it, the dimness of the tent became something actually visible. He checks his watch as he slowly makes his way to the other mattress.

“What time is it?” You ask as you struggle to get comfortable on the mattress.

“Surprisingly? Nearing midnight,” he answers. Jack stretches slightly before plopping down entirely. “Get some sleep, yeah? Tomorrow morning, we’ll set out to do what I ask,” Jack subtly demands. He props his elbows up on his knees and watches from the corner of his gaze as you shift awkwardly.

You felt strange laying down on the mattress, but did so anyway. It doesn’t seem Jack cared very much that your shoes were still on. You move your body slightly to find comfort on the mattress while Jack continues to eye you from the corner of his vision.

He takes note of your form, how delicious you look. How he can take you right now.

But he saw your eyelids grow heavy. Within moments, you were on the verge of passing out.

Jack relents softly. He knows she wants your full attention while he ruts into you making you cry out to gods that don’t want to hear you. He sees you begin to fade in and out of consciousness. Luckily for him, he does have some business to attend to, and those creatures didn’t ever get too close to his camp.

They wouldn’t touch you, not with his scent bathed all over you.

One of the last things you heard before Jack left to attend to other matters was a compliment. You barely heard it, and it would have shocked you right awake if your body wasn’t on the verge of shutting down.

“You look so pretty right now, Sweetheart. Beautiful, even.”

It wasn’t until 3am that Jack finally returned. You were fast asleep when he finally resented the tent, but he could smell you all the way from where his important matters laid. His nose guided him back to you. And funnily enough, it brought him back to you about a week ago as well.

Jack hadn’t smelled a fertile woman in a very long time. Well, since this whole mess came upon the Slender Man’s woods, really. He spied on you the first few days you were here. You weren’t as ready for him then, must’ve just been leading up to it. When he popped into your kitchen, it was because you were getting so close to your peak. The smell was overwhelming, sweet, and tender. Intoxicating. Like fresh peaches and the tangiest of strawberry pie. Lucky for him? You came to him at your peak.

Jack ressecure the flaps of the tend before his vision that saw all too well in the darkness his beauty that rests on the mattress he knew you’d choose. Your face and other gestures were gently lit up by the almost extinguished kerosene lamp’s flame. It drove him wild to see you breathe so peacefully.

Your chest rose every so slightly and he could have sworn he caught the outline of your nipples if it wasn’t for that stupiud bra you had on instead.

Jack licked his lips as he quietly drew himself closer to you. He couldn’t stop himself from crawling on top, quietly and slowly, so as to not wake you. One of his knees gently pried apart your legs, and then he took in your scent. You smelled of something not from the woods. You smelled of fresh vanilla and dark roast coffee. Of strawberry pound cake. Of good things.

Jack leans down and takes in your scent near the base of your neck, inhales deeply, then buries his nose in your hair. You smell divine, possibly even better than… Well, it’s best not to say. His hand picks itself up off the mattress to gently and gingerly brush near your hairline. Sily. Pretty. He then places it on your stomach and lightly presses, trailing his claws along your abdomen to your side. You are so soft. So delicate.

The moment his clawed fingertips touch your side and begin trailing down, you wake up.

Your eyes fly open and you almost let out a scream at seeing how this strange man is looming over you. Your mouth opens, but his hand quickly leaves your side to smother you. You breathe heavily against his palm, your eyes wide and with fear. You struggle against him.

“Shhh, he hushes as his hand presses a little firmer on your mouth. “Calm down.” His voice was low as his knee dug further into the mattress, just below the place he wanted most.

You continue to struggle against him, fighting against his planted hand while his other hand presses down on your hips.

“You promise not to scream?” Jack deadpans in a low tone with an edge that cuts you to your core. He sees tears welling in your eyes, and he knows you’re telling the truth. Slowly, he peels his hand back, watching as you keep true to your word.

You take in deep breaths to help self regulate. “What the fuck?” You seethe. Your arms, which have been pawing wildly at his chest, relax only slightly when his clawed hands catch your wrist in a vice grip.

“Easy,” he murmurs, only loosening his grip when he’s sure you won’t fight him any further. His head dips so his empty caverns can peer right through yours in the dim light.

One look and you know what he wants. Horor and something else - something wanton - pass across your face, making Jack laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna hurt you,” he hums, his clawed index finger trailing your cheek.

Before you can say anything else, Jack’s hand leaves your hips and grabs your face. With a wicked grin, he licks his teeth, then leans down and licks your face.

You contort to digits as he does so. He smells of iron.

“Why are you doing this?” You growl as his tongue leaves your cheek to your chin, slowly making his way to your neck. “I can leave if that’s-”

“No,” Jack growls. “You won’t leave,” he states before gently nipping at the soft flesh on your neck. “You smell so good,” he murmurs before taking another languid lick at your neck.”I’m going to make you mine,” With that, he entirely retracted his form from yours to look down at you.

Of course, you fight him. Your thighs grip around his upper leg that still rests between your knees and you almost maange to flip the two of you over. But he was much bigger and much stronger than you could manage. With a deep laugh, he grips your wrists tighter above your head and squeezes to let you know who is in charge. With his free hand, he reaches into his back pocket and gets the zip ties.

How the fuck did he get zip ties?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you hiss as he dangles them in front of your eyes.

“I just can’t trust you right now,” Jack tsks in the tone of a pouting child. The black zip ties feel awful against your wrists (they also feel good) - and he’d secured them so tightly. He playfully watches you attempt to break free from them, and when it proves futile, he laughs. Jack then allows his hands to take free roam of your body while you begin to protest him less and less. “I know you don’t have any spare clothes,” he hums thoughtfully before his fingers waltz down to the hem of your shirt. “Luckily, I have some left over. You won’t be needing any of this,” he cackles as his sharp claws make waste of the fabric.

You feel yourself growing weaker and weaker under his grasp but still curse at him more than what you deem possible. Jack seemed to eat up your insults. “You’re fucking sick,” you spit as he eyes your bra hungrily. “A sick fucking pervert.”

“You stayed the night, Sweetheart,” Jack grins wickedly. “I’m only taking claim of what’s now mine,” he says before delicately tracing the cups of your bra. He likes the design. Dark blue with light colored polka dots. An interesting choice. Without wasting any more time, his claws cut through the fabric too - no use in unclasping while your hands are bound. “How beautiful,” he giggles. “How lovely. I could hardly tell when you were using those bags you call clothes,” he teases, making your knees clamp around his knee once more, making Jack break again and laugh.

You bite your tongue and try to avert your gaze from him, not wanting him to see that you’re flushed due to the intimacy and that your body and you yourself are growing keen to the situation you have found yourself in. “This is…”

“C’mon,” Jack breathes out as his fingers trail up your smooth flesh to your breasts. “You must’ve known something was up. A man doesn’t just ask a woman to stay the night. He’s got one thing on his mind if she isn’t family or a friend: he wants to fuck her.”

The harshness and pure lust that dripped from his tongue made your face heat up in response. Your gaze darts and bounces around before you finally settle on his hands that are now fondling your chest.

Jack’s hands travel to your pants. He takes in your scent again. You are intoxicating, so intoxicating.

“You’re gonna have to work for it,” you manage to hiss out, legs still clamped around his knee.

Jack’s expression falls. “You’re not in charge, I am.” And with that, he rips through your pants, leaving you naked before him.

You shiver slightly in response to the cool air, and of course, Jack has to see that and make note of it as well.

“Awh,” he coos as his nose gets closer and closer to your heat. “Are you cold? Do you want me to warm you up?” He murmurs in a sickening lust filled tone.

“You bastard-” you’re barely able to breathe out before you’re cut off by Jack dragging the flat of his long, black tongue from the bottom to the top, taking great joy in the arousal that was already present.

“What a naughty, naughty girl,” he teases before dragging his tongue again. “Already soaking,” he compliments. His thumb, careful of the sharpened claw, travels to your clit and begins to slowly massage it. He feels your legs shift. Jack hums as he does to, hsi tongue only playing with your lips. He was going to make you suffer before he stuffs you completely.

His teeth nip you every now and then, just to remind you who was really in charge as his tongue and lips press kisses to your lower lips. He doesn’t dare dip into your heat despite wanting to taste you in full.

You write in his grasp, trying to hold back any and all sounds of pleasure. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he’s doing to you.

It’s a shame really, he could make you see stars if only you’d let him.

He must have gone near half an hour with his head between your legs, still fully dressed. He was a man of great patience, and he’d been edging you for much longer and harder than he should have. He could see frustration dotting your face when he finally came back up to look at you.

You look a little more flushed than he remembers. It’s probably all the heat rushing to your face. He notices your hands are quite restless too, that and being tied up couldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world.

“You look upset, why?” He asks before sucking on your clit. When you struggle to say anything, his teeth graze you ever so slightly. “Use your words, please,” he hums much like an authority figure would.

“Tongue fuck me,” you mumble in embarrassment, eyes darting anywhere but at Jack who is still nestled securely between your legs. You watch as Jack’s ears perk up.

“Say that again,” he prompts, his fingers taking over his tongue on your clit.

“Please,” you say softly “Tongue fuck me and please untie me.”

A sly grin crosses onto Jack’s face alongside yet another chuckle. He momentarily leaves your legs and crawls back up to be face to face with you. His index finger reaches up and his claw slashes through the zip ties.

You freely move your wrists, getting used to your newfound freedom.

“It’s only because you asked nicely,” Jack coos as his sockets bore into your eyes. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, pleasantly surprised that you don’t fight him like before. He then crawls back down your body to rest in between your legs, his clawed fingers parting your lower lips slightly before he dives his tongue in. He takes great joy in how you write beneath him as your thighs press harder against the side of his head.

He buries his tongue inside of you and curls it in places no human could ever reach. He has you seeing stars.

You buck your hips quite a few times and Jack’s hand reluctantly leaves your thighs to push your hips back down. As he tongue fucks you closer and closer to release, you become a little harder to control. He enjoys it though.

Jack hums absentmindedly as he does so, relishing in your taste. You are soaking wet and so, so close. All he has to do is push you off the edge.

He slithers his tongue out of you before rubbing your clit with his thumb, allowing you to take your mind off your pussy and to the assault your clit before your mind goes white hot in pleasure. Jack’s tongue darts so fast into your pussy that you almost yelp in response as he thrusts it back in and out, still humming like it was no big deal.

Your back arches and that’s all Jack needs to know to see you’re just about to cum. A few more rough flicks of his tongue and you’re creaming onto his face. Your hands grip the nest’s bedsheets and various blankets as he continues to carefully tongue fuck you through your orgasm. He grins as he laps up your sweetness, teasing you under his breath about the effect he has on you.

But he’s not done with you, not by a long shot.

You look up hazily while panting deeply as Jack’s tongue slowly leaves your pussy. The flat of his tongue slowly swipes up from bottom to top which makes you giggle, and he smiles against your skin. From there, he begins working on undoing his belt.

“Here,” you murmur softly, his ears once again perking up to catch your words.

“Hm? He hums in response as he cocks his head to the side, watching as you slowly sit up and stretch before your hands gently press onto his chest. You push off his dark brown coat and then trail down to his belt.

Your hands are soft and gentle as you work on freeing him, and within moments, you are tossing his belt to the side and unzipping him. You can see the tent in Jack’s pants, and you can already feel how delicious he’s going to feel inside of you.

Jack nods for you to lay back down when you shake your head ‘no.’ Interesting. Instead, your hands unzip him and you reach for his cock. Your eyes pop as you touch it - he was hot, much hotter than any man you’d previously been with.

“Come on, don’t keep me waiting,” Jack teases.

You roll your eyes playfully before finally fishing him from his pants, guiding him out with anticipation. You look up at him the entire time you do so, lust clouding your vision and burning through your soul as you do so, almost unaware of the monster you hold in your hands. When you finally look down, you feel heat rise to your face once more.

Jack smirks in response and tangles his fingers near your scalp, brushing you ever so slightly. He guides your lips down to meet the giant. He was big. No denying it. Had to be near nine inches, thich, veiny, with a girthy know he couldn’t wait to stuff inside of you.

You didn’t fight against him. Instead, you eagerly awaited him for your mouth.

Your lips are soft as they press the lightest of kisses to his tip. And just like that, you’re dragging the length of your tongue up and down his cock and listening to him growl in anticipation. When you know you’ve got him where you want him, you take him in your mouth.

Jack’s claws keep steady in your hair as you bob your head. Your lips couldn’t reach his know, and to be completely fair, he wasn’t expecting you to be able to take all of him orally, but he loves what you can do. Your tongue swirls around his tip and shaft every time you come back up, and when Jack was acting up? You graze your teeth against him.

Before he knows it, you are looking up at him with the sweetest gaze, giving him your permission for him to use you. Jack passes you a look of affection before his other hand reaches up to caress your cheek, moaning out deeply as your tongue swirls on his tip, trying to coax his cum out.

Without any particular warning, he pushes your head down and brings you back up before working into face fucking you.

Your face goes dark as he uses you, making breathing damn near impossible. He begins muttering in some language you don’t know - they sound like praises - but he’s coming closer and closer to his edge.

In a mix of English and whatever language he was mumbling in, you can feel his praises get filthier and filthier. Though, Jack doesn’t want to finish in your mouth. Not this time.

“Back down, I’m going to fuck you,” he murmurs deeply while looking at you with lust and… something you can’t quite name. It wasn’t animalistic, that’s for sure.

Jack expects for you to lay back and spread your legs for him but instead, he watches as you maneuver on all fours. Your face is burying into the blankets and your ass is just shy of his waist level despite you pushing up towards him.

You glance back at him and roll your eyes playfully before swaying your hips, attempting to entice him further.

Jack sees the slickness of your cunt and without any hesitation, takes your waist into his clawed hands and begins rubbing his cock with your slick. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs as he continues to rub his cock with your juices. “I’m going to destroy you.” And then he slips into that language you just can’t understand. “I’m going to knot you and you won’t be able to look at another man without begging for me to fill you up,” he says as his fingers lightly part your lips that were so tightly pressed together as he lines up with you.

Before he does so, he begins to shrug off his hoodie.

“Stop teasing me,” you say in a teasing tone, making Jack pause from taking off the rest of his clothes.

Jack verbally rolls his eyes before taking his hand out from under his hoodie before gripping your waist again. Without any warning, Jack shoves himself into your roughly, hilting himself to his knot before resting there and taking off the hoodie.

Your eyes roll up slightly as he thrust inside of you. The thickness he had wasn’t anything you were used to, and he stretched you open with absolutely no lead up and it made you see stars again.

“I can feel your wet cunt,” he says in passing as he throws his hoodie up and over his head. “Squeeze around me while you wait for me to fuck you,” he chuckles with a devilish grin. He feels your body’s eagerness for him to fuck you, and like such a good girl, you squeeze his cock making him breathe out with a smile. He feels you pulsing, he feels you growing hundred with the need the longer he stays dormant inside of you.

He sighs in ecstasy as he begins to slowly move himself out of you. When it was just the tip, he roughly slid back in, still refusing to knot. His ears twitch at the sound of you gasping for air as he really begins to fuck you. “And here you were calling me a pervert,” he muses as he begins to thrust into you with deep, long strokes, adoring the sounds that pour from your mouth. “But you like fucking me huh? You like it, you goddamn slut. You like being fucked by something that is no longer human,” he continues in that same dead language, nails digging into your soft flesh. “You’re gonna milk my cock and then you’re gonna do it again in the morning.”

Your eyebrows furrow, mouth slightly open, hair bouncing slightly with every thrust. Your face is so heated in response. This is something you know you shouldn’t be doing, but fuck was it good at keeping you around and interested.

As one of his clawed hands undug itself from your flesh to slide down your hip and caress your abdomen, his claws trace your skin and press into your clit once more. He thumbs you and leans over you as he does so, his other hand propping next to your head as he engulfs you with his size. He’s pounding into you now, still refusing to know. His tongue lazily swipes at your shoulder as his hips thrust into you at a damn near inhuman speed and strength, making you mumble incoherencies.

Your moans are music to his ears.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you feel like you can’t anymore, and I’m gonna fuck you until I’m the only man you’ll ever fucking think about,” he roughly sneers into your ears as he continues to pound his hips against you. “I’m going to fuck you until you tell me to stop, and even then? I might not stop.” He breathes deeply into your ear, his tongue tracing the shell as you pathetically move in tandem with him, his fingers digging into your clit and swirling.

He’s trying to get you to cum again.

You are trembling beneath him as his hips shatter you. You can feel his knot greet your lips, but still refuse to enter as Jack growls deeply into your ear. Your legs clamp together as his hand roughly fingers your pearl.

He’s so intoxicating, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Cum on my cock,” he hisses harshly, still fucking you to orgasm.

And just like that, he got his wish.

You squeeze shut your beautiful eyes before tightening your thighs together. An immediate waterfall gushes from between your legs, filling the air with something sweet and slightly bitter.

Jack laughs as he pulls out from your pussy, watching as the liquids continue to gush out. “What a cutie,” he teases as he lovingly licks your cheek. “Turn over. I wanna see your face when I knot you,” he grins, nodding for you to lay back on the side of the twin mattresses that was not turned into an ocean.

On hellied legs, you slowly wobble and hum as his finger traces your slit before falling back to the side of the mattresses that isn’t soaked. Your eyes meet his gaze and you slowly spread your legs as he looms over you. You catalog everything about him. In your eyes, he looks so animalistic, and so human all at the same time.

Without his jacket or his hoodie, you’re able to see the scars that decorate his body. He’s so dark, and the cuts and jagged lines that dash across his form are so light in contrast. He’s still lacking eyes - so how is it that he looks at you with such love?

That stupid smirk is looking at you again and you’re tearing your gaze off it to see the head of his cock weeping with precum.

Jack whistles down at you, his hand resting on your knee. “You knew this was coming, Sweetheart,” he hums as he leans forward, hands placing themselves on both sides of you. His grin grew as he saw your face heat up once more.

Jack feels your legs shift followed by a slight weight on his lower waist, He makes a noise of approval as your ankles lock before he glances down to where your bodies are soon going to be connected again. “Let me know if I hurt you at any point,” he whispers softly in your ear as his slightly pointed tip prods at your entrance.

You find yourself almost taken aback by his sudden kindness - he was so domineering but so soft? Your trail of thought is almost entirely derailed as he pushes his cock in and past your puffy, swollen lips as you listen to him hiss at the new angle.

It’s intimate - neither of you can deny that.

Jack watches your expressions from the corner of his gaze as he slowly begins to pump in and out of you, working you to that breakneck pace once more. He watches as your eyebrows furrow as he picks up the pace, fucking you in your entirety. He feels your legs tighten around his waist and watches as your eyebrows furrow once more and knit together in pleasure.

You begin to pant as he does so, walls pulsing deliciously around him as his hips meet yours in thick, meaty thrusts. You feel his cock slide deeper and deeper with every thrust, pushing you to new limits.

Your moans are, once again, music to his ears as he fucks you senseless. Your hands wantonly claw at his back and brush against his sensitive flesh. Swears and curses escape your lips every now and then and that makes him blush.

“You are taking me so, so well,” he harshly compliments through pants as he lowers himself onto his forearms, his hips continuously snapping forward. “It’s almost as if your cunt was made for me. I wonder if you can take my knot as well?” He mumbles as his knot kisses your bruised lips once again. “I don’t care what you say, I’m gonna make you take it.”

“Fuck!” Jack swore under his breath as your walls vice gripped him. “You’re gonna take my knot and you’re gonna like it,” he mumbles into your neck as he kisses and nips at it. He hisses again when you rake your nails across and down his back. His ears fall back in pleasure and close to his scalp as you moan louder. The sound of your pussy gobbling him up has him weak at the knees.

“You’re getting close again, aren’t you?” He questions as he nips at your neck, threatening to bite in the longer you hesitate in answering.

You’re admittedly pretty tongue tied at the moment. “I-!” You’re cut off but his hips slapping forward making you choke and gasp for air. “I am-,” you breathe out through your moans.

“Perfect,” Jack chuckles as he slowly inches his way out. He watches your face carefully as he pulls out, his gaze trained on yours as his forearms push up so he can see you better.

Confusion etches itself on your face. “What?”

“I just wanna see your face,” he answers as his tip rubs against your entrance. He licks your cheek playfully once more before slowly, and deliciously dragging his cock back in, his knot just barely meeting your lips. “This might hurt,” he murmurs gently as he picks his hips back up once more before thrusting back in, much more forcefully, his thick, large knot finally breaching your pussy.

Your eyes widen as his girthy knot pushes inside of you, your legs instinctively tightening around his hips. Your hand leaves his back to grip onto his bicep. Luckily for you, Jack doesn’t mind. You wince as he wiggles in the rest of his knot into your pussy as it swallows him whole, the entirety of his knot being buried inside of you, making it hard for you to breathe. You feel so full and stuffed!

Jack is a little surprised by how strong your grip is! He’s almost completely smitten with it when he finally looks down to see tears welling in your eyes. He can tell it’s a mixture of both paini, from being stressed immensely, and pleasure in a way only pain could bring. It’s ecstasy. Jack leans down gently and begins to kiss your tears away, careful to not pull where the two of you are connected all the while restraining himself to what he doesn’t believe is bearable.

“You feel so divine,” he murmurs livingly before licking away another tear. “Just relax, let me do the work,” he continues. He feels your lips on his and he smiles, taking that as the green light to rock into you. Unfortunately, he would not be able to completely destroy you like he did prior to knotting you simply because of the knot.

Now, Jack takes the time to be intimate. He lovingly relishes in the feeling of kissing you as he slowly and tantalizingly grinds his hips against you and lightly thrusts after every roll. It was a little difficult due to the connection, but it felt sweet. His hand went back between your legs to work your pearl as he continued to sweetly roll and thrust into you, thoroughly enjoying how your hips are shyly coming up to meet him.

“Come on,” he whispers softly through his kiss as he begins to thrust a little rougher. “Just a little more, cum on my cock again,” he urges as he breaks the kiss, licking your cheek. He’s swiping and thumbing your clit in ways that have you writhing beneath him.

Your legs tighten around his waist, urging him to press deeper inside of you.

Not one to deny a lady from what she wants, Jack backs up as far as his hips will let him and pounds back into you. He repeats the motion, making sure to roll every time he does so.

Your hands grasp at his back once more as he fucks you with reckless abandon, his name being the only thing to spill from your lips as he does so. You can’t believe he’s overloading you again, and your heart picks up in response. You kiss him once more, feeling his chapped, rough lips against your soft ones before he leaves and nips down the side of your face and back to your neck. He lightly bites down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough for you to know he’s got a claim on you.

You look up at him as he mumbles in that same dead language against your skin. He’s so lost in you that it’s almost adorable. Your hand gently asks for his attention, and he gives it to you. You give him a look of nothing but lust and possibly love, and Jack’s lips are on yours again, thickly, warmly, with something deeper and much more passionate than anything you would have expected he was capable of. When he breaks away, panting, against your face, he makes you cry out in pleasure.

“I’m going to fill you,” Jack sneers through his panting, hips still thickly pounding into you. “I’m going to fill you for as long as I’m inside of you,” he mutters as his thrusts frow sloppy. Jack covers you entirely with his body as he roughly pants into your ear, so, so close to spilling.

Your walls begin to flutter around him, urging him to spill as he growls into you. You feel like you’re creaming rings around his dick, urging, no, begging him to bottom out inside of you. Your nails are leaving dark, jagged marks into the flesh of his back as he does so.

With a few more powerful thrusts, Jack finds himself going over the edge, his hips back as far as his knot will allow him before he buries himself deep, the tip pressing against your cervix as he releases himself inside of you. Hot, thick, sticky ropes of cum begin to flood into your needy cunt as lightly rocks himself inside of you, gritting his teeth as you tremble beneath him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He continually growls out like a prayer as your fluttering walls coax more cum from him.

Your eyes roll upwards as the heat floods your cunt, making you squeeze your eyes shut and burying your face into his chest. You’re squeezing tightly around him, vice gripping him as he continues to relish in the feeling of your body holding him so tightly. You can barely think straight as his cock weeps more cum, threatening, and succeeding in filling you to your brim.

“Gods, you’re milking me,” he murmurs as he finally stops pumping you full of cum. “This… This is gonna take a while,” he says darkly in your ear.

“What?”

Jack nods down to where the two of you are still connected. “Gonna be a while.” He sighs, secures your legs to his waist, and then flips you over so you are resting on top of his chest. “Get comfortable.”

“How long..?”

“A while,” Jack awkwardly coughs. “It’s just uh, a knot thing, I guess?” He attempts to explain as you shift your hips deliciously, making him huff and his cock spurt more ropes of cum. He looks away in slight embarrassment. “You can sleep, if you want? Like I said, this is gonna be a while,” he finishes as his hand fishes around for a blanket as his other hand travels down your lower waist to finally cup your ass. He squeezes gently once he finally throws the blanket over the two of you.

“Or,” you say as you plant your hands firmly on his chest, gradually bringing yourself back up. “We can go again.”

Jack laughs. “And you called me a pervert.”

You lightly slap him and grind your hips slowly against him. “Shut up.”

[pricetagofficial]

Pair of Aces -H.D. [18+]

Warnings: Language, I made Harvey too hot for words, NSFW smut, drinking, smoking, car sex, self sex, oral sex, sex sex,  Harvey is a gift giver, I don’t make the rules, fluff, raunchy jokes and humor, sexy drink names

Paring: Harvey Dent x Reader

Masterlist

Part One Part Three

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: This is the official/unofficial part two to Baby Doll. You can find it in the link above! After writing the first one, I had so many ideas that I wanted to do so I made another and here we are folks. 5.6k words of complete self indulgence. Blame Elle, (who also made this fabulous banner for me, love you!)

Harvey had his arm draped over your shoulders, keeping you within reach. Sure, this was supposed to be a friendly poker game but that didn't mean he trusted these fuckers with being within ten feet of you. 

It really didn't help that you dressed the way you did. The short leather skirt alone was enough to kill him. But when he saw the white sleeveless crop top with a golden chain laced across exposing your breasts, he swore his heart stopped.

Pressed close to Harvey's side, you shivered feeling the chain brush against your skin. You could feel several pairs of eyes trail over your body, only making Harvey tighten his hold on you.

The game was supposed to be between Harvey, Roman Sionis, and Oswald Cobblepott. Once a month, the three men put aside their differences for a couple of games of poker. No business was allowed, except potential info against a common enemy usually centered around a particular bat-obsessed freak.

The door at the end of the hall had several men standing guard, looking down at you and Harvey.

“There was nothing about bringing a guest,” one said. 

“Didn’t want to leave her all alone, thought she could learn something tonight,” Harvey explained, tightening his grip on your waist. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, daring the guards to try and pry you away from him. 

The larger one huffed and crossed his arms, a grin on his face. “We’ll have to pat you down before letting you in.” 

Releasing his hold on you, Harvey stepped forward with his hands up as the guard patted down his chest and legs to make sure he isn’t hiding anything suspicious. Finding the gun in his coat, the guard gave Harvey a look before he raised a brow. 

“Gotta protect my girl somehow,” he said, looking at him. “You never know the kind of creeps are out there.” 

The guard shrugged and let him pass, putting a hand out to stop you from following him. 

“Hey! You did your inspection, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The guard’s grin got wider, his eyes hiding something malicious in them. “I said I had to pat you down, both of you.” 

“That’s a load of fucking bullshit,” he growled, stepping back to protect you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you kissed his cheek. 

“Relax baby, I’ll be alright,” you assured, stepping back and putting your hands in the air. You felt the guard’s hands start on your waist and make their way up your torso, moving to grab your breasts. Before he could, you lifted your foot and slammed the heel of your stiletto into his foot. 

“Don’t you fucking think about it,” you frowned, listening to the guard hiss at the pain before finishing up and letting you through. 

Harvey chuckled, watching you handle yourself before grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest. Placing a kiss on your lips, he opened the door and led you in. 

The room was filled with smoke from cigars and cigarettes galore, and there was a bad smell in the air that reminded you of the gym locker rooms. It smelled of sweat, meat, and something else you didn’t want to linger on. 

Harvey’s eyes raked the room, eyeing Roman and Oswald already sitting in their chairs having what seemed to be a friendly chat. Walking further into the room, Harvey pulled out his chair and sat. 

“Sorry it took so long boys, had some personal matters to attend to,” he said, unbuttoning his coat and pulling out a cigarette. He looked at you, an expectant look on his face. 

Rolling your eyes, you leaned over his body the leather skirt riding up your ass. Reaching into his coat, you pulled out the lighter and lit the cig in his mouth. He knew you hated it when he smoked, but he couldn’t deny how unbelievably hot it was to watch you light them for him. 

Taking a drag, he blew out the smoke, his eyes not leaving you. “Thanks, baby doll,” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. Glancing to the side, he didn’t miss the looks Roman and Oswald were giving you. Wanting to prove that you were untouchable, he reached forward toying with the golden chain of your top. 

“Why don’t you go get daddy a drink?” he asked, brushing the skin of your breasts with his finger ever so lightly. 

“Yes sir, Mr. Dent.” you winked, standing straight. As you turned to pour him a drink, Harvey grinned and slapped your ass, earning a light squeal from you. 

Roman’s eyes narrowed in on the sway of your ass as you walked, what he wouldn’t give for an hour alone with you. Leaning on the arm of his chair, his gaze raked over your body lingering on your exposed breasts. He swore Dent brought you along just to brag, not that he would complain. The sweet image of you bent over the arm of the chair was enough to satiate his wants for the time being. 

Harvey narrowed his eyes, “Something on your mind Sionis?” 

You walked back over, Harvey’s scotch in your hand not ignoring the looks all the men in the room were giving you. Taking a sip of it yourself, you handed it to him, your lipstick staining the glass. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing with an ugly bastard like Harv?” Roman asked, a grin forming on his face. 

“More than you could ever imagine,” Harvey responded, glaring him down. 

Roman leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes watching you intently. Snapping his fingers to get your attention, he grinned. “How about a Kinky Blow Job, princess.” 

Harvey looked as if he was about to explode, gripping the arms of the chair he was in. Roman caught his gaze, not missing your flustered state at his bold request. “I mean the drink, Dent. Your girl should know how to do a Kinky Blow Job right? Or were those personal matters over a Juicy Pussy?”

Not wanting to be rude, you walked over and made the drink Roman requested. If you weren’t so well versed in various drink names this would have been a very awkward position. Mixing the pink drink, you put a straw in it before making your way over to Roman. 

His gaze alone was enough to give you shivers, Roman watched your movements like he was waiting for the right time to strike and make you his meal. 

“Here you go, Mr. Sionis.” 

Roman reached for the drink, his cold hand brushing yours ever so slightly sending shivers down your spine. “What’s the matter, princess, too cold? I know a way or two to warm my fingers up.” he winked. 

Pulling your hand back, you could feel Harvey burning holes into Roman’s chest as he continued to openly flirt with you not bothering to turn his gaze away from your exposed chest. 

“Will that be all, Mr. Sionis?” you asked, clasping your hands behind your back.

Deciding he had enough fun, he waved you away before looking at Harvey. “Such a polite little thing, how long did it take you to train her?” he asked, sipping his drink. 

The second you were close enough, Harvey grabbed your waist and pulled you down to rest on his knee. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he threatened, placing a kiss to the back of your throat. Your hand came to rest on his knee, squeezing gently as he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder enough to leave a mark. 

“It’s a joke, Dent.” Roman chuckled, “Lighten up some,”

You felt his hand wrap around your middle, securing you against his chest resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Both of ya, shut the ‘ell up and play the fuckin’ game!” Oswald snapped, dueling out the cards. “Buch o’ bloody wankers.” 

Picking up the cards dealt to him, Harvey kept you close. There was no way in hell he was letting anyone, especially Roman get their grubby hands on you. Looking at his cards, he reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of bills. 

“Put half of that on the table for me baby doll,” he said, eyeing you as your body arched over to toss half the wad on the table. Handing it back to him, he took the bills, grinning as he stuffed them into your top. “Why don’t you keep that safe for me?” 

“Yes, sir Mr. Dent.” you breathed, feeling his fingers lightly brush against your nipples through the top.

Content with your reaction, Harvey leaned back in his seat as you turned and draped your legs across his lap. Placing his hand on your knees, he pulled you close. Watching his hand, he glanced at the other two before setting his cards down. 

“What’s with that look Dent, confident or scared you’ll lose?” Roman called, glancing up from his cards. 

“What, worried you’ll lose to me?” 

“I thought you liked to leave things to chance or was that all an act?” 

Harvey didn’t like the fact Roman was trying to goad him into betting more money. Looking at his cards again, he still had a high chance to win. Turning to look at you, Harvey slid a finger into your top and pulled it back enough to pull out the bills and toss them onto the table. 

You weren’t happy he fell for Roman’s obvious ploy at trying to rile him up. These poker games were meant to be simple fun between crime lords, but you knew how dangerous they could be. One second they were betting money, and the second someone’s ego got fluffed they gambled away their firstborn child. 

Hours passed, and you watched as they played through three games already and dealt out the fourth and final round. Each man won a round each, and this one was to take home the cake to prove who was the best poker player. Roman had a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you didn’t like the results that could come of that.

Oswald was oddly the most generous of the three, offering you free champagne and even a platter of sandwiches that were prepared just for you. 

Harvey however, refused to let you off his lap. He worried the second he let go, you would disappear. It said a lot when he didn’t trust his own men with you, but he trusted Roman and Oswald’s men even less. 

“Final round boys, ‘ow ‘bout we up the stakes?” Oswald asked, tossing the final few cards. 

Roman grinned, his teeth a shocking white against the dark of the room. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a folded piece of paper with his handwriting scrawled across it. “One free night with any girl of your choosing from my club.” Tossing the paper onto the table, his gaze turned to Oswald. 

“Up that, you old bird.” 

“Shut up!” Oswald thought long and hard, he didn’t have anything like that to bet. He didn’t dabble in sex clubs or prostitutes. He had more class than that, but he did have something a lot of people sought after. 

Pulling a piece of paper out, he wrote his offer illegible from your distance. True to form, Oswald Cobblepott had chicken scratch handwriting. 

“One free night, in the private secluded box in the Iceberg Lounge. Enough for you and two guests.” 

Nodding appreciatively, Roman smiled and turned his gaze to you and Harvey. His smile didn’t waver one bit, as if he knew what was about to happen next. “What are you going to bet, Dent? It seems money isn’t an option, fuck knows we have plenty of it.” 

“He could bet tha’ little ‘ore of ‘is?” 

Harvey’s grip tightened on your waist, holding you protectively against him. 

“What’s the matter Dent, I thought you were confident in your card skills?” Roman grinned, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. 

“No.” he growled. “She isn’t for sale.” 

“Oh come on Dent, why don’ you let the coin decide?” Oswald chuckled, knowing full well what Harvey would do. 

You watched as he reached into his pocket, toying with his coin between his fingers. 

“Harvey, you can’t be serious?” you asked, muttering into his ear. “I thought you said I wasn’t for sale, remember?” 

“Relax doll,” he said, turning his gaze to you. Harvey knew it was reckless, but he couldn’t refuse what the coin decides. “Have a little faith in me,” 

You watched with wide eyes as he set the standard. Heads, it was a no. Tails, you were to be placed on the betting table. The deal was one night, equal to that of the others and you had more than monetary value to Harvey. Or so you hoped. 

Flipping the coin, you held your breath watching as he caught it and flipped it onto the back of his hand to reveal the damaged side of his double-sided coin. 

Your voice died in your throat, looking at him with a concerned look. 

“You fucking asshole,” you snapped getting off his lap to stand behind him. There was no way you could watch this hand play out, not when your virtue was on the line. 

“Now that the bets have been placed, let’s play some cards, boys.” Roman grinned and began the round, his eyes not leaving your figure once. 

The next twenty minutes were some of the most agonizing twenty minutes of your life. You watched in worry as Harvey played the game. His hand was pretty good, but did that mean it was better than the others? At some point, you had to stop watching, the anxiety making it too much to bear knowing your fate rested in the cards. Biting your nail, you watched as they finally folded and waited for the results. 

Oswald flipped his card, showing that he had a full house. Not bad, but there were higher hands to play that could win.

Roman chuckled, flipping his cards over to reveal a four of a kind all in diamonds. That was a pretty damn good hand, if Harvey didn’t have a better hand it seemed you would be going home with Roman Sionis spending your night filled with Kinky Blow Jobs and Juicy Pussies. You couldn’t deny the man oozed sex appeal, but you wanted it on your terms and not from a fucking poker game. 

Clenching your fists, you watched as Harvey tsked and turned his cards to reveal a straight flush. “Sorry boys, but Y/N is going home with me tonight.” 

You watched Roman clench his jaw, irritated at the fact he lost a night with you all to himself. Getting from his seat, he put a hand in his pocket and adjusted his cigar. “Well played Dent, next time maybe you won’t be so lucky.” 

Both Oswald and Harvey got to their feet and shook hands. “Good game gentlemen, same time next month?” 

Harvey put all of his stuff into a bag before walking over to you. He didn’t miss the glare you were giving him, nor did he miss the way Roman sauntered up to you taking your hand and pulling you closer. 

“Such a shame to miss out on a night with you, princess. Maybe Dent will bring you along again next time and we’ll see what happens then.” He pulled your hand up to his lips, placing a kiss to your smooth skin. 

Giving him a hard glare, you bit your cheek. “You may be nice on the eyes Mr. Sionis, but you might want to remember you can’t buy the best things in life.” you snapped, pulling your hand away. “And I don’t come cheap.” 

Harvey bit his lip to hide his chuckle at the sight of Roman’s face. Walking over he wrapped an arm around your waist, planting a hand firmly on your ass. He knew you were pissed at him, it seemed he had a lot to make up for. 

“Later boys,” he called walking out with you on his side. As a silent promise, his large hand gripped your ass roughly while you walked, the skirt riding up to expose the underside of your cheek and black thong. 

“That fucker,” Roman growled, walking out himself. 

***

Harvey led you back to the car, where your driver and security detail waited. 

“You have a lot of groveling ahead of you Dent if you even think about sleeping in the same bed tonight.” 

Leaning to press soft kisses to your throat, Harvey wrapped both arms around you as he kissed your collar. “How about I start right now,” he muttered against your skin. “I know how much you love being fucked in the backseat.” 

Gripping his hair, you tipped your head back breathing heavily from his onslaught of kisses and public display. His hands wandered lower, toying with the bottom of your skirt as he pressed you against the car door. 

“You’re lucky you’re hot.”

Harvey grinned against your skin, before looking at the driver. “You go ahead with security, I have some business to attend to.” he grabbed the keys and unlocked the door, pulling away long enough to watch you slide in and spread your legs for him to see your dripping cunt on full display to him and anyone else around. Sucking in a harsh breath, he dove in after you and shut the door, locking it behind him. 

His lips were on yours in an instant, hips prying your legs further apart, the skirt bunched up to give him access. Harvey mumbled soft apologies against your skin as he left open-mouthed kisses across your collar. His hands danced across your thighs, as they made their way up to your pussy. 

Letting out a sigh, you arched your back feeling him swipe through your folds moaning at the sudden contact. His fingers entered into you, quickly stretching your hole to accommodate his cock to impatient to take his time with you. 

Gripping the leather of the seat, you moaned his name. “Harvey! Please!” 

Hearing your cries, his hand continued to thrust in and out of your pussy before pulling back and undoing his belt. Quick to pull out his cock, he fisted it several times watching you writhe and drip onto the leather beneath you. 

“Hold on baby doll,” he promised. “I’ll take care of you.” Gripping your hips, Harvey pushed your thong to the side and thrusted into you, bottoming out in two strokes. 

Your body spasmed, trying to take in all you were feeling. Sinful moans left your lips feeling him stretch you perfectly as he picked up the pace. All you could hear over your ragged breath was Harvey’s hushed apologies as his hips rutted into yours followed by the sound of his balls slapping against your ass.

You could feel the car rock back and forth from the force of his thrusts, Harvey desperate to make you cum. Reaching down, his thumb played with your clit making you tip your head back and kick against the door. 

“Oh fuck, Harvey!” you cried, gripping the back of his shirt. “I-I’m so close, baby. So close.” 

Hearing you gasp for air, Harvey thrusted harder into you knocking the air back out of your lungs watching as silent moans left your perfect lips. Your jaw was slack and your eyes rolled back at the feeling of Harvey driving into you. 

Swearing as your walls clench around him, Harvey moaned your name, continuing his pace. “You look so perfect,” he praised. “So fucking perfect as your pretty pussy takes my cock.” 

Feeling the build-up, your thighs tensed around his waist while you clawed at his shirt. 

“Fuck! Harvey, I’m gonna--” your words were cut off by a loud moan as you came on his cock, feeling it drip down your exposed ass. 

Thrusting into you twice more, Harvey buried his cock inside you as he came, marking you as his as your mixed juices pooled beneath you. The smell of sex filled the car, as he continued to place kisses all over your body. 

Panting heavily, you pulled his head up to kiss him. “Oh fuck…” you muttered, resting back against the car seats. Harvey looked down at you, pressing kisses to your cheek. 

“Let me take you home doll, really make it up to you.” 

Barely hearing his words, you nodded and closed your eyes. Feeling him pull out of you, you whined at the loss of contact before feeling his lips on your neck. Letting out a hiss, you tilted your head to the side feeling him suck the skin between his teeth really marking you as his this time. 

Tucking himself back into his pants, Harvey climbed into the front seat and started the car before driving off. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw you splayed across the back seat recovering from the orgasm he just gave you. He saw your lipstick smeared across his lips, chuckling at the thought of how fucked out he must look. 

You could still feel the ache Harvey left between your legs, begging to be used again. Reaching down, you slipped two fingers into your pussy trying to convince yourself that it was Harvey. The ache resided some, but it wasn't enough. 

“Harvey…” you whined, bucking your hips into your hand. “Please!”

Glancing at you in the mirror, Harvey swallowed hard as he watched your toy with yourself while begging for him. “I’m going doll, wait until we get home.” his voice strained, trying to keep himself from driving into traffic. 

Sliding a hand up, you gripped your own breast and played with your nipple through the top, continuing to finger yourself. “I want to feel you, baby, please! It’s too much!” 

Going faster than the speed limit, Harvey palmed his growing bulge as he listened to the squelching of your fingers pumping your mixed juices back into you. With every whine and moan, his pants got tighter until it was so painful he couldn’t focus. 

Pulling into the garage, he all but jumped out of the car before walking over to the door and pulling it open to see you fucking yourself until you came. Loud moans left your lips, echoing across the garage as Harvey watched you pull your fingers out and lick them clean. 

“Holy fucking shit doll,” he muttered, pulling you out of the car. Kicking the door shut, he helped you balance on your feet before leading you up to the bedroom, his hands not leaving your body once. 

“When we get there, I’ll make it all up to you,” he promised, muttering against your shoulder. “I’ll worship every inch of you, give you a special gift and everything.” His hands roamed your body, reveling in the way you shivered under his touch. He’ll make you forget all about his stupid bet, and make you feel so good you won’t want to leave the bed.

Leaning into his touch, you walked with him as he opened the door. “You still have a lot of apologizing left to do, better get started.”

Harvey hummed into your shoulder, leading you towards the bedroom of your lavish apartment. Entering the room, he led you to the mirror and held you against his chest. You watched his hands as they traveled up your body before grabbing your breasts through your top and giving them a tight squeeze. 

“You’ve been teasing me all night with this fucking top,” he grumbled, listening to your airy breaths as he played with your breasts. “Who the fuck thought it was legal to sell you this shirt?” 

“The sales per-person,” you gasped, leaning into his touch. Feeling him pinch your nipples, you hissed pressing your ass into his crotch. 

Keeping a hand on your breasts, the other slid down your body sending little bolts of electricity everywhere he touched you. “And this fucking skirt, so fucking tight around your little ass everyone was looking at what belongs to me.” 

His lips trailed from your shoulder up to your cheek, not taking his eyes from your flustered form. You could see his eyes burning into yours as you turned your face to meet his lips in a passionate kiss.

You felt his hands slide the skirt off of you, the leather pooling at your feet. Trailing over the soft skin of your stomach, he pulled at the top trying to get it off you. You could tell Harvey was getting impatient, so you pulled away from the kiss and guided his hands into taking it off your body. 

Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your black thong and heels, you couldn’t help but admire Harvey’s hands as they traced over every inch of you he could reach. Slowly, you stepped out of your heels as Harvey’s fingers dipped into the straps and began to pull the thong down your hips. 

Kneeling as he pulled it down, Harvey nipped lightly at your ass causing you to jump in surprise letting out a little squeal. Chuckling at your surprise, Harvey got back on his feet turning you to look at him. 

“How about a present for the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen?” he asked, holding you against him. 

Biting your lip, you gave him a nod as he led you over to the bed and made you sit. 

“Stay put,” then he walked off and disappeared to get whatever it was he was going to give you.

It took a few minutes for him to come back, holding three boxes all wrapped in deep red bows. What could Harvey have gotten you this time? The last time he decided to give you something, it was the deed to a whole island that he named after you. 

No one got to see this side of Harvey Dent, the side that truly loved you and strived to prove it with extravagant gifts, expensive trips, and more. 

Giving him a playful look, You watched as he knelt before you and placed the boxes at your feet. Pressing a kiss to your knee, he handed you the first box. “Go ahead, open it.” 

Taking the package from his hands, you lifted the top off and pushed back the tissue paper. Pulling the item out, you saw that it was a black and white lace lingerie set, complete with garter belts. Holding it up, you looked at Harvey to see his delight in you liking the first gift. 

“Oh Harvey, it’s beautiful.” you praised holding it against the expanse of your body. 

“I’d say try it on, but why don’t we save it for another night?” he chuckled, watching you move the box to the side only for him to place another on your lap. 

Giving him a look, you could tell this one was heavier than the last and that probably meant it cost more. Pulling off the lid and unwrapping it, you saw that it was a beautiful necklace with several strands of pearls strung across. 

You gasped, holding it up and looking at him. “Harvey, what did I say about expensive gifts?” 

“That cost nowhere as much as the island.” he smiled. “I thought I could get some pearls for my favorite girl.” Leaning up, he took it from you and clasped it around your neck watching as they cascaded down your chest and over your breasts. 

“Perfect,” he muttered, kissing your cheek. 

Turning your head to meet his lips, you pulled him into a kiss running your fingers through his hair. The cold pearls sent shivers across your body as Harvey pressed himself against you. “Baby doll-- fuck.” he chuckled, feeling your hands trail over his chest trying to unbutton his shirt. “I still have one more present for you,” 

“That can wait until you’re done apologizing,” you grinned, sliding his shirt off his shoulders. 

Harvey gripped your waist, lifting you higher onto the bed as he crawled over you. “I was hoping you’d use it as an apology,” he groaned against your lips as you continued to undress him. 

Your fingers danced along the waist of his pants as you unbuttoned them, sliding them down his legs. Raking your nails over his exposed skin, you helped him out of his pants and boxers moaning as you felt his mouth kiss everywhere he could reach. 

Moving down your body, he kissed every inch until he got to your hips. Nuzzling your skin, he bit into you leaving teeth marks on your hip. Harvey loved to see you all marked up, further proving that you belonged to him and no one else. 

Making his way further down, he propped your thighs over his shoulders and sucked on the supple skin enjoying the taste of your mixed juices and sweat. Leaving a trail of bruises up your thigh, Harvey licked between your folds holding your hips down as you cried out.

“Oh, Harvey!” Your hands flew to his hair, pulling him closer as he continued to lick you clean. Your hips continued to move against his face, as he brushed your clit with his nose. 

Harvey’s tongue sent jolts all through your body, overwhelmed by the feeling of his ministrations through your folds. Your toes curled, feeling him enter a finger into you slowly pumping it in and out of you. 

Moaning against your cunt, Harvey added a second finger pumping them in and out of you at a sensual pace wanting you to feel every bit of it. 

“Please!” you gasped, pulling at his hair. “Please don’t stop,” 

Hearing you beg made him chuckle, the vibrations against your clit sending you closer and closer to the edge. Between his warm tongue and cool fingers, Harvey had you dangling over the cliff as if he was daring you to let go. 

You let out a scream feeling him brush the bundle of nerves with the pad of his fingers, massaging it until your throat was raw from your screaming. Glancing up at you, Harvey grinned seeing you so lost in the pleasure he was giving you. 

“Fuck!” you tugged on his hair harshly, earning a soft moan from his lips sending more little shocks into you as he laid claim to your pussy. “Harvey! Baby-- oh! Don’t stop!” you pleaded, digging your heels into his back. 

Curing his fingers again, he felt your walls spasm around him as you came coating his hand and face in your juices. Your voice echoed around the room from crying out his name, relaxing back into the bed. 

Harvey’s face was still buried between your thighs, refusing to quit. 

“Come on doll, cum on my face again.” he groaned, peeking up at you. You looked to see your cum smeared across his lips and chin, continuing to finger you trying to coax your body into another orgasm. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, getting back to it. You couldn’t hear much over the ringing in your ears, but you swore you heard the words ‘favorite meal’ leave his lips as he licked you clean. 

“H-Harv-- oh fuck! I-I can’t..” you whined, feeling yourself being brought up again. 

“You can do it, I know you can baby doll.” he muttered against your body, “Give me another, and I’ll fuck you properly until you beg me to stop.” 

His words made your head swim, the thought of his cock buried within you while feeling like this was enough to make you cum again, screaming his name. 

Harvey lapped up every drop he could, making sure he licked your pussy clean only for him to defile it again. Unable to take anymore, you pulled his head up and over to kiss you. You could taste your arousal on his tongue as it mingled with yours in your mouth. 

His hands placed themselves on your breasts, kneading them as the pearls rolled around his hands and towards your cleavage. Harvey enjoyed seeing you wear nothing but the pearls, as they bounced around your breasts while you moved.

Not wanting to waste another second, Harvey lifted his hips before thrusting into you again. Your tight cunt was enough to make his hips stutter, feeling your velvet walls wrapped around his cock. 

“Fuck doll,” he muttered against your lips. “You feel so fuckin--” his breath caught in his throat feeling you pulse around his shaft, cutting off his words before picking up the pace. You were nothing more than a blissful fucked out mess as Harvey continued to drive his hips into yours. 

Feeling the ecstasy build up, you dug your nails into his back leaving marks that would last for days. 

“Harvey!”

Not able to get out anything but his name, your body succumbed to the intense feeling as another orgasm took over you leaving you gasping for air. 

Burying his face in your shoulder, Harvey continued to thrust into you before cumming deep within you. Unable to take anymore, he let his body collapse against yours, melting together covered in sweat and cum. 

Brushing your hair out of your eyes, he cupped your face and looked at you. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and Harvey would never understand what you saw in an asshole like him. Carefully, he lifted his hips and pulled out before lying next to you. 

Turning your head, you gave him a soft smile and kissed his lips. Wrapping his arms around you, Harvey pulled you close enjoying the warmth of your body. 

“Did I do good enough?” he asked, brushing his lips against yours. 

“Apology accepted,” 

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