#I’ll have plenty of time to write in the next few days but I wanna do it now

[a-demonic-duck-of-some-sort]

Gotta be responsible and sleep but I’ve got the writing bug and I just wanna write

[potatomountain]

CIY- 6

Chapter Six

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective reader

📍word count: 3.2k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: (TBD)

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 and @daesukiii

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San spent a great deal of time going over the Green Vipers with you, in fact the Black Pirates had never gotten discussed as the two of you had been so wrapped up in the discussion you didn’t move on. He had moved around the desk and leaned next to you while he pulled up the files through your access, letting you write down any notes and taking his time.

The two of you were discussing the hierarchy of the known heads of the Green Vipers when your phone started buzzing, a picture of a pretty boy lighting up your screen. San looked over curiously, brow lifted as his lower lip jutted out in a pout. “You know pretty boys like that?” With a sigh, you picked up the phone more so to ignore San’s teasing pout. ��Hyunjin I’m on probation I can-”

“Sure you can because currently I’m not on the team.” Hyunjin’s sass was heavy already but he caught you off guard. “Don’t worry sweetcheeks, it’s not permanent.” “Explain.” Standing up straight your eyebrows scrunched together as the phone call now had your undivided attention.

Hyunjin hummed on the other side mischievously. “I can tell you now or maybe over some lunch tomorrow? You moved away and now I have to actually make time to come visit you. Do you know how that hurts? My best friend moving across the city from moi? Like just tell me you don’t love me anymore next time.”

Despite the dramatics, you couldn’t help but smile. You missed this, missed him, knowing damn well that despite what happened each one of them could easily worm their way back into your heart. You loved them after all. “Still dramatic as ever.” “Should I be anything less? Jeez that’s an insult sweetie, you know better.” A genuine laugh was pulled out of you, grin widening. “I do, I do. Then lunch tomorrow? Text me a place?” “Who says I don’t already have one in mind? I better see you looking as fine as the day I wed you my boo. I’ll text you. Kisses.” Hyunjin blew a few into your ear which you happily replied with one of your own before hanging up with a laugh.

As you set the phone down you were still grinning, nearly forgetting you weren’t alone… until San cleared his throat. “Boyfriend?” A bit startled, you blinked a few times before shaking your head. “Friend. Hyunjin.” You pointed at the photo of the two of you at Disney. “Old unit, he just wants to hang out tomorrow.” “Aw, I want to join.” Your face scrunched up several levels of disgust and judgment. “Excuse you?” He chuckled, watching you with a slightly more intense gaze than he had before. “I liked your laugh, I want to hear more of it.” The heat that coursed through you burned your ears and cheeks. “Wha- where? Excuse you?!” More flustered by the second he grinned, turning so he was leaning his side against your desk. “I laugh plenty normally!” “I’m sure you do, but what’s the likelihood it’ll be in my presence where I can just soak it in?”

You felt your face get even more heated, scoffing at his words. “Some other time when I like you more.” “You don’t like me already? Damn I’m not doing a good enough job then.”

With a grunt you shut your laptop annoyed. “Oh just drop it.” “I don’t wanna.” He stood up and blocked your way with ease as you tried to get out of the little space behind the desk. “So can I join you?” “No!” Huffing, you squeezed past him but not without pressing the entirety of your side into his chest. “Stop fooling around and let me go-” “But where are you going? We weren’t done.” He had a wide shit-eating grin on his face that popped his dimples out the entire time you dodged and tried to put some space between you two.

He just stalked you around the lobby, clearly getting a kick out of how you were running from him. “I’m packing up for the day and heading home! I’ve had enough of this team’s mental torture for one day don’t you think?”

He pouted at that, hands going up in the air in surrender. “Fair point. I’ll let you head out for the day- but we’ll be going over everything Monday when you come back.”

Sighing with relief you slid back behind your desk to finish packing up your things. “Thank you. Liking you more already.” He chuckled, standing on the other side of your desk and watching you pack up your laptop and notes. “Noted. I’ll let Captain know I dismissed you.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed for the door. “Enjoy your day off sweetcheeks.” He winked, using the nickname Hyunjin had called you.

Flustered all over again, you rushed out, stomping on the urge to flick him off considering he was doing you a kindness- even if he was teasing you about it.

— — — — — — — —

You were more than a little excited about your lunch date, dressing up your casual because otherwise Hyunjin was just going to judge you- with love of course. He had messaged you a time and place and informed you with plenty of spam not to be late.

Which you weren’t, but he was. Something you expected really, the man did like making a dramatic entrance when he could.

You kept glancing at your phone, tapping your toes on the concrete outside the small, most likely family owned restaurant. Looking around when you weren’t waiting for a text, you couldn’t find his pretty self anywhere at first.

When you did spot him, he made a show of waving, but didn’t rush. He was, as usual, dressed in style; you knew modeling and fashion was his second career choice. Pocketing your phone when he closed the distance, you sighed, only to pull him in for a hug which he was just a tad reluctant about at first. “There’s my drama queen.” “And my feisty boo.” He gave a gentle squeeze before pulling away and looking you over scrutinizingly. “Hmmm… it checks out. I was afraid I’d have to drag you shopping before lunch if you weren’t up to my standards.” You rolled your eyes, smiling despite the banter. “Oh please, you would love to go shopping.” “Caught me. But this way it can wait until after lunch, I’m famished.” With a wink he pulled you into the restaurant. Perhaps to show you some mercy he didn’t immediately hound you with the million questions he wanted to ask, instead berating you for moving so far and complaining about the absolute travesty it was that you did. He was watching your every move and expression as he did, waiting until food was ordered before he dropped his so-called niceties and dove in. “Be honest, how are you doing without me? Absolutely lost right?”

You rolled your eyes and sipped your drink, thinking over the last week. “It’s been hell, Jinnie. I miss you. I miss the team. But I also can’t believe things happened like that. Even Minho agreed! I’m just so- ugh!” Slamming the drink down, rage surged through you. “I know I can get ahead of myself, that I can bend the rules and get worked up on a case but how can they just-” “Sweetie…” Hyunjin softened and reached out, placing his hand over yours. “I’m sorry they did that, you belonged with us and it pisses me off that they forced you out like this. It hasn’t been easy without you. Fuck it’s a mess.” “Then why… Hyunjin, why do I have to start over with a unit that practically loathes me?” Tears pricked your eyes, emotion making your throat tight. “It’s infuriating, and it hurts. Chan, Minho, Felix… even Binnie. I never expected any of them to just boot me like that, especially Minho! We made a promise in school to be detectives together. Partners. He might have joined the S.K unit before me, but we were partners before the unit.” Hyunjin looked torn, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. “Listen… it was shitty of Minho, of them all, but I also understand why. As much as I hate it. You deserve to do bigger cases than dealing with minors. Sweetie you are so driven and such a damned good detective. You shoot as well as Minho, you can run as fast as Changbin and solve puzzles as fast as Thing 1 and 2-”

“Min and Innie would not let you live it down if they heard you call them that-” You interrupted, earning a playful glare.

“My point is, you have the skills to do more as a detective and it’s not with our cases. What pisses me off was that it wasn’t your choice- you needed to be the one to decide when you were ready to do that, not Chan or the board: but you! That was shitty as hell the way they handled it but I understand why they think you deserve a different team.” He took your hand in both his, leaning forward to be a bit more intense. “I still deserve to be your partner but I’m not as cool of a detective as you.” You blinked back tears, staring down at your joined hands. “I know… I know you all feel that way; I read Chan’s report. And someday I’ll be able to forgive them, but not right now. Fuck Jinnie, you know how I felt about them, how much that team and being a part of it meant to me. I still needed them and then they just pushed me out the door?” “I know… I know.” You shook your head, looking up through your watery lashes with raw emotion. “Hyunjin… you don’t know the half of it. That night we went out clubbing and I got wasted? Chan was in my apartment when I woke up...” His gasp was scandalous, eyes going wide as he leaned in more. “Did you fuck him? Oh my God-”

“No! He told me he slept on the couch. I guess you called him to come pick us up when we were both just blitzed out and he took you home first. He said he stayed because I asked, but uh…” You trailed off, cheeks burning bright as you recalled the morning a week before you were told you had to transfer. Chan had been in your kitchen making coffee… shirtless considering you were wearing it. “He definitely had a hickey on his neck and there might be a chance I put it there after drunkenly confessing. But I’m positive no sex happened.”

He groaned with disappointment, pulling his hands away and shaking a finger at you. “I don’t remember a hickey but he had been insistent on turtlenecks all week. Chan isn’t the type to sleep with a drunk woman… oh my God-'' When it dawned on him, he sat up, once more appearing scandalized but grinning from the juicy gossip. “You finally confessed? Even drunk? Did he ever come talk to you about it?” You shook your head, frowning deeply. “No… the next conversation we had alone he was handing me the paperwork that informed me I was being removed from the unit and would have my choice of precinct to transfer to. I had to fill it right there…” His face fell again, watching you when it clicked: you confessed, drunkenly, and in response you got kicked out of the unit in as nice a way as possible. “Oh no, baby…. That’s…”

Tears pricked once more but you blinked away, unable to look at him. “Yeah. So, I’ve been rejected by him as not only my Chief but also as one of the men I’ve been madly in love with for what, a year?” “Well fuck him, but not literally- oh food.” He stopped the conversation as lunch was brought out, effortlessly flirting with the waiter.

You rolled your eyes, looking elsewhere so you didn’t have to cringe at the level of charm Hyunjin had. While your eyes lazily scanned over the restaurant, they caught familiar faces. You narrowed your eyes, the two men turning away and fixing their so-called disguises. “Jinnie, you were tailed?” “Oh I forgot about them, I just got so excited when I saw you.” Hyunjin turned his attention back towards you as the waiter walked off. “Are you mad about that?” You sighed, shaking your head and looking back at one of your best friend’s. “Not at all. Jisung called me on my first day you know; it makes sense that such an anxious bean would follow you to check up on me. And Felix is just as bad of a worrywart. I adored that about him though.” “Neither of them have been happy that they can’t check in on you. I swear Jisung’s squirrel energy has just increased tenfold without you around.” He paused to dig into his food.

You laughed at the image, wiping away the unshed tears as gently as you could before also digging in. “Want to give them a run for their money? I’ve been meaning to check out the neighborhood.” “Well duh, I did say I wanted to go shopping.” “Maybe we can get them better disguises while we’re at it. Whose idea was the trench coats?”

Hyunjin glanced over at the two men huddled at a table on the other side of the restaurant. “Hmmm, hard to say, they both would. Don’t they realize that makes them stand out more? Like seriously, they’re detectives, how shameful can they be?”

He steered the conversation to lighter waters while you two ate, which was mostly just scrutinizing Felix and Jisung’s outfits and behavior. You pointed out they would do horrible undercover work which switched the talk over to that. Hyunjin easily agreed he couldn’t stand trying to blend in to watch someone or spend hours to days doing that but he could see you thriving.

By the end of the meal he had your spirits back up and stomach full.

The two of you spent quite a bit of time after that walking around. You found some cute shops you liked, some places you wanted to check out, but overall got a vibe for the neighborhood. You were just a couple of blocks before the warehouse and docks, but you noticed quite a bit of newer businesses. Even while spending time with a friend you couldn’t pull yourself out of work mode fully, taking note to look into that later on. 

Usually local businesses take a hit from heavy gang activity and you knew this was Black Pirate territory. Of course, aside from the White Guardians, you knew the least about that gang.

“I know that look.” Hyunjin was watching you with a bit of a smirk. “So, going to tell me about it? Your new unit?” You sighed, shaking your head as you both grabbed food from the food truck you ordered from for dinner. Several hours had passed and you two hadn’t realized it until the sun was setting and you were hungry. The two tagalongs were still following, clearly making a day out of it as well if their bags were anything to go by. “They don’t want me there, well most of them.” “Most?”

You shrugged at his inquiry, taking a bite to avoid answering right away. “I met the Captain yesterday and another Detective. The Captain seems odd but doesn’t hate me entirely I think and the other one has been… nice.” “I hear a but there- and not a nice butt.” “The others have not been. In fact they made it perfectly clear they don’t want me around. From straight up rude and blunt to condescending and yanking me around. They refused to give me an actual desk- I work at a receptionist desk and they tried to give me that job!” He listened intently, walking with his hands full. “Sounds like a bunch of dicks.” “Mhmm. But considering the nature of the unit, I'll refrain from speaking out too much. We do have two tails.” You winked over at him, glancing back and waving at the two. You had waved once a few hours ago but they didn’t join you, more so bending the rules than outright breaking. That was fine with you, you didn’t want to handle Felix just yet. Sweet intentions didn’t make the pain less. 

“True true. Ready to head to your new place then? I need to see where you live so I know where to suddenly crash when I miss you. And I also want to get back home before it gets too late, my beauty sleep counts on it.” Hyunjin sighed heavily. “Thankfully we aren’t very far.” 

It was nice to have a normal conversation, some comradery after the last few weeks. Hyunjin made things normal for you, talking as if you were still part of the unit, as if nothing had changed at all. You relished in it on your walk back to your place, the sun set and dinner fully settled in your stomach as you approached your building.

You slowed when you recognized a familiar figure at your complex door, an arm loosely around a woman that was attached to his arm. Your sense of normalcy was dashed away when he turned to smile down at the woman, confirming who it was. “Well fuck-” 

At your curse Mingi looked back, the smile wiped clean off by an expression of confusion.

“You know him?” Hyunjin asked next to you, looking between you two but you just shook your head. “The girl?” “Don’t worry about it Jinnie- come on up.” The door was opened and you rushed to get it before it closed, glaring at Mingi’s back as he ushered the woman inside. You were hoping, with every fiber of your being, that it was the woman who lived here.

But as you led Hyunjin up the stairs, Mingi was clearly directing the woman up the stairs too. You were getting more annoyed by the second, more anxious, as you stopped at the top of the stairs and watched. Mingi took her down the hall and stopped at an apartment. Only when he pulled the keys out and unlocked the door did your blood run cold. 

Apartment 17, right next to yours.

Cursing under your breath you strode down the hall and stopped at your own apartment, putting the bags down as you got your key out. “This is fucking insane. Oh my God, how bad can my luck be?”

“Sweetcheeks, are you sure you don’t know him? He’s staring right at you? And he’s hot.” Hyunjin leaned down to mutter in your ear, staring over at Mingi that you knew was watching you. 

At the woman’s giggle, you looked over, eyes going wide as Mingi dipped his head just then to kiss her. Not your sweet chaste kiss, but he dragged it out, pulling the woman close and his hand going to her ass in the miniskirt. Your cheeks heated up, turning away and unlocking the door before pushing it open. You pulled Hyunjin in quickly, then the bags, and slammed the door.

Mingi was your new neighbor, and he just brought a date home.

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse | @philijack | @lelaleleb | @idfkeddieishot | @isiloiale | @candypop1611 | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @fire-and-flame | @sugarnspice630 | @hongjoongswifefr | @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu | @auroreen | @sousydive |  @fatalt | @asteroidshowers | @Bts-army380 | @iwishiwasrichasfuck | @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @fixonjoongg | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing |

[goatcheesecak3]

I read your Gavin Ellis fic and I’m so in love with him I wanna keep him in my pocket.

I wanted to request a fic (f! Or nb! Reader) where the reader is a close friend of Gavin’s and Ray’s. At a party, the reader meets someone and starts dancing with them (maybe even plans to go home with them), and Gavin has a high-key jealous moment about it.

Or, a second (angstier) idea: The reader saves Gavin from getting thrown off the roof, but gets really really injured in the process of stopping the cop.

Jealous

Gavin Ellis X F!Reader

Fic type: fluff

Warnings: brief mentions of drug use, alcohol and physical altercation.

Summary: after Gavin has ignored you all week, you decide to try and make him jealous.

A/N thank you so much for your request!! I love writing about Gavin because he's just sooooooo??????? i've gone with your first idea, but I definitely want to do the more angsty fic in the future! I think i just need to get better at writing how Gavin would act in more serious situations first teehee <3 also, for my male readers, i pinky promise I'll get the m!reader versions of my gavin fics up within the next few days, i've just been trying to get some new stuff out since i've been slacking with fics in general lately

The music was loud, the drugs were plentiful and the atmosphere was electric. Gavin’s parties were always eventful, the lack of rules usually lead to some sort of drama. So far this night some drunk arsehole had already jumped off the roof in an attempt to impress some girls (y/n couldn’t figure out what was more surprising; the fact that he only twisted his ankle, or the fact that the girls were actually amused). Y/n, a close friend of Gavin’s sat on a sofa, quietly sipping a beer next to Ray, another close friend.

“Do you want to go and see what Gav’s up to?” Ray asked.

Y/n scoffed at this, she and Gavin had been having a somewhat weird patch in their friendship. After drunkenly making out a week prior on a particularly crazy night out, things had been weird between them. Y/n had tried to brush it off and forget it ever happened, but Gavin seemed to be avoiding her.

“If the prick wants to talk to me he can come over here, I’m not gonna chase after him.” She rolled her eyes.

“But… and don’t take this the wrong way,” Ray gulped, not wanting to trigger her short temper, “you’re the one that came to his party”

With a raised eyebrow and an all too defensive tone, y/n responded, “I’m only here to steal booze and maybe take someone else home. What about that guy, David? The one on your footie team? He’s not half bad looking”

Ray sighed defeatedly. He hated when he got caught between y/n and Gavin’s drama, it was like putting up with his mother and stepdad all over again.

“I think David’s in the kitchen, just, please don’t make things weird, y/n, I like being friends with both of you”

y/n’s face softened.

“I promise I’ll only make things weird for Gav, never you though Ray” she smiled playfully, placing an affectionate and friendly peck on his cheek before arising from the sofa and making her way to the kitchen.

Y/n’s seemingly foolproof plan to hook up with David was in action, as she stood in the doorway to the cramped kitchen making eyes at him across the room, smiling seductively. David wasn’t necessarily the sort of guy y/n would usually go for, but he would do, and most importantly, it would serve Gavin right for being such a dick all week.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know Miss y/l/n would be here tonight, to what do I owe the pleasure?” David smirked, leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly.

“well you can start with a jack and coke” she grinned back, biting her lip and laying it on as thick as possible.

“your wish is my command”

y/n knew this dance, she’d done it plenty of times before. Twirl your hair, bat your eyelashes, pretend to give a shit about football, grind a little on the dancefloor, and before you know it, you’ve got yourself a nice no-strings-attached stress reliever. Piece of cake.

“wow and they let you have the penalty kick? That’s soooo funny” She feigned laughter, touching his arm lightly.

Tired from pretending that David was at all interesting to talk to, y/n pulled him towards the front room, where people had began to dance. Leant up against a back wall, watching bitterly and ignoring his friends, was Gavin. He’d worn his favourite top, a tight red shirt with the top few buttons undone – a look which y/n had complimented him on before. Sure, he’d been playing hard to get since the last time they saw eachother, but he was hoping that at the night of his party y/n would see how he was dressed and be all over him. Instead, however, to his absolute disdain y/n had completely ignored him and was now dancing with some jackass from his footie club who spent most games on the bench. He tried not to let himself care, but his blood boiled when he saw David whisper something in y/n’s ear.

“so… am I gonna get lucky tonight?” he slurred, drunk and sloppy at this point.

“ugh stop talking, you’re ruining this for me” y/n rolled her eyes. David was attractive enough, but in all honesty his voice was a tad bit grating, and his drunken pawing at her body as they danced was far from sexy.

The pair continued to dance, David too drunk to get the not-so-subtle hint to stop blabbering, as he kept rambling about something that didn’t matter. Gavin, who was practically seething with rage and jealousy at this point, finally decided to do something about it when he saw David’s hand trailing it’s way down to y/n’s ass. Before anyone knew what happening, David had been aggressively shoved to the floor.

“I told you y/n’s off limits” Gavin spat.

“Hey what the fuck is your problem, mate?” David groaned, pulling himself up off the floor.

Y/n put her palm to her face, practically mortified.

“Jesus Christ, Gav, calm your tits” she scolded.

Gavin didn’t stick around to see if David was okay, instead he grabbed y/n by the arm and pulled her out to the garden to talk.

“Gav, what the f-”

“why did you do that?”

“do what?”

“that! In there, parading yourself around with that dipstick like I’m not right in front of you” he spat.

y/n had to hold herself back from laughing in his face, “why the hell do you give a shit? You haven’t said a word to me all week, are we even mates anymore?”

Gavin responded in a way which y/n could have never predicted. Gavin Ellis, the cocky, loudmouth arsehole who had an answer for everything had been rendered speechless. His mouth hung open for a minute, as he blinked slowly, eyebrows furrowing and his brain overheating.

“o-of course we’re still- what, were you actually upset by that?” he finally managed.

“uh, no shit I was upset by it. So what, we make out at the pub and all of a sudden I’m a stranger? Pardon me, but I thought after all these years of friendship I would at least get a heads up before you decide to drop me” y/n rolled her eyes, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it. Despite her somewhat feisty exterior, she didn’t like confrontation, it made her anxious, and so she wanted to keep her hands busy.

“DROP YOU?!” Gavin spluttered, “Why would I- Y/n, I would never drop you, I just felt like I should keep my distance because-“ he stopped himself.

“Because what?”

“C’mon y/n, don’t make me say it” Gavin bit his lip and looked away nervously.

“Because what?!”

“Because I’ve got a thing for you, alright?! And I didn’t wanna make an dick out of myself!”

“so… you ignored me altogether?” she asked, her demeanour switching to one of kindness, while still being amazed at Gavin’s stupidity.

“look, it seemed like a better idea in my head”

“I’m sure it did”  y/n chuckled, “I can’t say I’ve never considered it, y’know, me ‘n you”

“Really?!” Gavin grinned, his face turning every so slightly pink, “so… do I have a chance?”

Y/n smiled, biting the inside of her lip.

“yeahhhhh, alright. Fuck it, let’s give this a go. But no more playing it cool, and no more drunken nights at the pub, if you’re really serious about me, I wanna be treated like a lady”

Gavin was practically cheesing like an excited kid at this point, never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined things going this well.

“How about I pick you up on Friday for steak and a film?” he winked.

“I think that sounds like a plan” y/n giggled.

As a rule, y/n never kissed on a first date, let alone before it even happened, but she was feeling adventurous, and fuck it, that boundary had already been crossed a week prior. She leaned back on the wall of the house, and placed her hand gently onto the nape of Gavin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, Gavin’s hands finding their way around y/n’s waist and holding her tight.

“just FYI,” he mumbled into the kiss, “now that we’re a thing, if I ever catch another bloke dancing with you like that again I’ll deck the cunt” he chuckled.

“Is it bad that I find that hot?” y/n giggled

“not for me it isn’t”

[awkwardtickleetoo]

pick cal’s next fic AGAIN wooooo

that’s right gamers it is poll time again 🎉🎉

almost a year ago now, i ran a little poll featuring some fics i was working on at the time, and i allowed people to vote on which one(s) they’d wanna see next!! since i thought it was pretty fun last time and i like getting you guys in on stuff im doing, i thought it would be a good time to try that again, as i have a decent few wips under my belt atm :D

plus the last one resulted in sleepy kitten coming out, which is Not the one i would’ve picked to write next, but it ended up being one of my favorite fics i’ve written, so i guess i should trust your guys’ judgement a little more often 🙄

so without further ado:

i’m gonna leave the poll going for a week this time to give people plenty of time to vote (and also so i can have time to prepare lmao)

if anyone has any questions about any of these, feel free to ask me!! my inbox is always open, and i’ll do my best to answer without giving away too many secrets ;)

see y’all on the other side 🫡

[alliewritesthings]

papers - pt 5

Pairing: Dad!Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: angst, mentions of divorce, mentions of cheating. if ive missed anything please let me know!

A/N: no lie this has taken me ages to write, and even then im not happy with it but there we go, i apologise in advance. the next part will be the final part

series masterlist   |   main masterlist

“Shit!” You groaned, pushing your hair off your face as you clutched at your throbbing head.

“Shit!” You almost shouted as you noticed Chris beside you and not in a separate bed, a loud groan leaving your lips as you realised you were also naked.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You spoke in hushed tones, as not to make your own headache worse. You climbed out the bed, reached for your pyjamas that were strewn across the floor and quickly pulled them on as you heard a gentle knock at the adjoining door. “Chris! Wake up!” You grabbed one of the pillows and hit the man with it, eagerly trying to wake him.

“Mama! Daddy!” You heard the small voice of your daughter call through the adjoining door as the handle rattled. You dashed over to the door and gently opened it, swinging your daughter up into your arms and stepping back into the room she shared with Scott.

“Shhh! Daddy’s still sleeping.” You told the young girl, sitting her on the edge of her bed. “Where’s Uncle Scott?” You questioned, glancing around the room.

“Bathroom!” The little girl looked up at you with a small smile. “Can we wake daddy up and go to Disney?” You laughed a little at her question.

“Why don’t you stay here and I’ll go wake daddy up? And then once everyone’s ready we’ll go get breakfast and then head to the park.” You confirmed, checking the time and realising it was only eight in the morning. “Put the TV on, there should be plenty of movies on there.” You told the girl as you switched the television onto movies and gave her the remote to allow her to take her pick of the selection of Disney movies.

“Morning Scott.” You called through the bathroom door, letting him know you were awake before retreating back through the adjoining door to find Chris sat up in bed. “About time.” You grumbled, closing the door behind you.

“Good morning to you, too.” He mumbled sleepily, rubbing his tired eyes. “How’s your head? I’ve got painkillers if you need any.” His gaze never left you.

“Are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room?” You emptied your bag out onto the bed as you grabbed your things you needed.

“What?” Chris questioned; his eyebrows furrowed.

“We fucked!” Your voice came out high pitched, over-emphasising on what happened. “That should not have happened!” You stormed into the bathroom with your things, slamming the door behind you as you retreated into the shower to fix yourself up for the day ahead.

“You know it was you who wanted it, right? You basically refused to let me say no.” Chris looked up from his position on the bed as he pulled his shoes on.

“Please, just shut up. It shouldn’t have happened.” You mumbled, filling your backpack with the essentials for the day. “We were both drunk and it shouldn’t have happened. It doesn’t change anything.” You pulled your bag onto your shoulders before opening the adjoining door and stepping into the other room where Scott was helping Olivia put her shoes on.

“All good to go?” Scott questioned as you stepped into the room, his eyebrows raised as if he was trying to read the situation between you and Chris.

“Yeah, all good. Wanna go get some breakfast, Liv?” You questioned, holding your hand out to your daughter and leading her out the room.

“What happened, Chris?” You heard Scott ask as they both stepped out and joined you in the hallway.

“Let's not talk about it.” Chris mumbled in reply, the tension thick in the air as you all made your way to breakfast.

The few days in Disney passed rather quick, and you’d soon returned back to London and carried on with life as usual. You’d held back from signing your part of the divorce papers after what happened while you were vacationing in Florida, although there was a lot of tension after a lot of thought it felt like things were somewhat going in the right direction and you’d agreed with Chris to take things slow and work on your relationship one step at a time, which included twice weekly marriage counselling via video call.

Your marriage was hard to explain to people, it confused a lot of people when they’d found out that you were actually married but your husband and father of your child lived over three thousand miles away. It took a few months but you’d gone as far as wearing your wedding ring again, the classic platinum diamond ring placed back on your finger alongside your simple engagement ring.

Everything felt normal, apart from the distance, and in a strange way you felt you had your husband back.

The next big step was whether you’d commit to moving back to Boston or not.

It was three months since you’d returned from spending a short period of time in Boston. Christmas was fast approaching, meaning it was only a matter of days before Chris would be joining you and Olivia for your first Christmas in London.

You’d spent two weeks of December extremely ill, finding yourself spending a lot of time cuddled up with the toilet and requiring lots of assistance from your parents when it came to childcare. It wasn’t until one of your work colleagues mentioned the pattern in your sickness that you began to worry. The mention of morning sickness made you feel nauseous, the idea of being pregnant with your somewhat-distant husband was not something you thought you’d even have to consider.

It wasn’t until the twenty second of December, the day before Chris was due to arrive, that you decided that the best course of action would be a pregnancy test. Things started to add up in your mind, leaving you certain you were pregnant.

The multiple pregnancy tests only confirmed your suspicion – by summer of the following year Olivia was due to be a big sister to Baby Evans number 2.

The thought of telling your husband made you fearful, it’s not as if you were in the worst situation anymore but you also weren’t in the best situation either. You weren’t sure how bringing a baby into that situation would work, but you’d do all you could to ensure the situation planned out.

“Wake up! Wake up!” Your little girl squealed, bounding into your bedroom. You groaned as she jumped onto your bed to shake you awake, glancing over at the clock on your bedside which red 5:47 in the morning.

“It’s too early, Liv. Go back to sleep.” You sighed, pulling your daughter in for a cuddle and tucking her under the duvet next to you. She let out a whine in protest.

“But Santas been!” She huffed out in annoyance, doing everything she could to squirm out your grip and make her way to her father who was fast asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor. Since you only had a small two-bedroom apartment Chris had agreed to sleep on the couch, not pushing the boundaries of your ‘new’ relationship just yet. But Olivia had refused to let her father sleep on the couch on Christmas Eve, demanding he sleep elsewhere otherwise ‘Santa wouldn’t come and visit’ her, so he’d made a bed out of extra blankets and pillows on your bedroom floor.

“Daddy! Wake up!” The five-year-old demanded, gently shaking Chris to awaken him. “Santas been, daddy!” She shouted as soon as his eyes were open. A soft yawn left your lips as you forced yourself out your bed, sliding your slippers and robe on.

“Come on then, missy. We’re up now.” Another yawn slipped from your lips as your daughter darted from the bedroom towards the small living room area, which you’d spent the evening with Chris laying out an array of presents which you’d been hiding away for what seemed like months.

“Can I open them?!” She squealed in delight as she picked up one of the presents and gave it a gentle shake.

“I hope that wasn’t fragile, you may have broken it.” You teased your daughter with a soft laugh. “Well firstly, you need to wait for daddy who’s going to make me a lovely hot cup of tea before we open any presents.” You spoke the last part of the statement loud enough for Chris to hear in the bedroom.

You heard the man chuckle as he left the bedroom, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and mumbling a soft ‘merry Christmas, baby’ before heading to the kitchen to make your tea. You don’t know whether it was the pregnancy hormones or not, but Chris left you blushing with a warm smile on your face.

It wasn’t long before you were curled up on the small couch in the living room, a blanket laid loosely over your lap and a cup of tea in your hands as your five-year old and husband sat on the floor playing with the new toys that ‘Santa’ had delivered.

“Hey Chris, can you get that present out from under the tree?” You pointed towards the small little gift that sat just below one of the branches.

“What is it?” Chris questioned, not remembering placing a present that small under the tree just a few hours ago.

“It’s from me!” Olivia beamed at her father, watching him retrieve the gift from under the tree. You couldn’t help but laugh at how oblivious your husband was, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Open it, daddy!” Your little girl grinned at the man as he began to rip the paper away.

“Oh wow, that’s so cool! Thanks, Liv.” Chris pressed a kiss to the top of his daughters head as he unwrapped the new wallet that was engraved with the words ‘To the best daddy, love your babies.’ He read the wording out loud, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at you. “I think they’ve messed up the personalisation.” He whispered, his confusion very evident.

You glanced from your husband back to the place where the present lay just under the tree a few minutes ago, your eyes flitting between the two spots.

Chris eventually followed your gaze, looking down to the decoration that hang on the tree right above the spot where the present previously lay. The realisation quickly set in and the shock was evident on Chris’s face as he took in the new Christmas decoration that hang on the tree with its dainty writing and a baby scan, reading:

Baby Evans. Due Summer.

part 6 (finale) - coming soon

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[the-archangel]

Johnny's Home

I like writing for Johnny and don't do it often enough, I guess I just like being in Kerry and V's fluffy bubble!

Johnny is sat in V’s old apartment looking at the four walls, chain-smoking and going slowly batshit crazy.

At first, it suited him well; perfectly in fact, there was a bed, a shower and a couple of millionaire chooms to pull you out of the shit not 5 minutes walk away, as well as a nova strong-room that he thought he might turn into a sauna one day. It had plenty of floor space, preem views, V had even let him keep the cat.

Back in Samurai’s early days, when a dry, safe place to sleep wasn’t guaranteed, this would’ve been unimaginable luxury, but he’d known success since then, known what it was to have a door on your bedroom or a kitchen that was more than a microwave and a vending machine. He couldn’t cook for shit but that wasn’t the point, he’d like the chance to try, or at least to persuade other people to.

V had messaged to say he was coming over, he showed up a few times a week pretending he was checking on Nibbles, but Johnny knew it was really to check on him, make sure he was taking his meds, eating, doing his physio and shit. Johnny didn’t mind, ever since he’d been back he’d found himself craving V’s presence, it calmed him, filled an empty space, and V felt the same. For nearly a year he’d lived with Johnny in his head, then for another with a Johnny shaped void, now Johnny was actually here to talk to again, to argue with, to punch on occasion, it felt good, nova in fact, they made each other feel whole.

Kerry was not particularly comfortable with all of this. If you haven’t had a construct taking over your brain which then gets ripped out but later returns as a solid, real, annoying human being, you couldn’t possibly understand.  V had tried to explain why he needed him around, but it just led to arguments, sulking (Kerry) and punching shit (V). Kerry had tried to tell him what a 5 star bastard Johnny could be, how selfish he was, how he used people, how it had taken him 50 years of therapy to get over him and how he had no intention of relapsing now. V understood, he really did, Kerry and Johnny had both told him the shitty things that went on between them, but Johnny was a part of V, there just wasn’t anything that he could do about that.

V let himself into the apartment and stepping carefully over the laundry, guitars, food containers and empty bottles lying on the floor, plonks himself down next to Johnny on the couch. “Place looks like shit.”

“Thanks, you look like shit.”

Banter over, Johnny rummages through a pile of detritus and finds a half-full bottle of tequila which they share in companionable silence.

“Wanna move V, the walls are closing in on me here, feels claustrophobic, like I can’t breathe.”

V dwells on this for a moment, “Well, what are you looking for? We can prolly help you out, have to talk to Ker though, don’t think he’d like it, but I can usually talk him around.”

“Don’t need your fucking charity V, in case you’ve forgotten I was a fucking rock star, gonna get me my royalties back and I’ll be fine.”

“Um, so, you going to hire a lawyer?”

Johnny snorts, “Shit no, corpo scopbags, gonna do it myself.”

V makes a mental note to put some eddies aside, what Kerry doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Make a list of what you’re looking for and I’ll swing by in a couple of days and help you look.”

Unusually for Johnny and V, this is actually quite a sensible idea, so after V leaves Johnny begins to write his list.

-

Later that evening, V is holding court at the Afterlife. He settled into his role as its king more easily than he liked to think and he enjoyed it, the only sour note was that he knew how blown away Jackie would’ve been by it all. V raised a drink to him nightly and had his picture behind the bar.

Kerry was coming over to keep him company, maybe grab a couple of drinks, V still got a thrill when he saw him, especially under the smoke-dimmed neon of the club which highlighted the blue of his eyes and glittered off the gold implants sweeping down his fucking beautiful cheekbones, and so he was feigning attention on what was going on around him and looking out for his input. V stands as Kerry arrives at the booth, the hangers-on around him know it’s time to leave, so Kerry has a choice of seats and chooses the one on V’s lap, pushing him back down onto the seat and planting a big, wet kiss on his forehead.

The regulars are used to Kerry and V’s antics and pay little or no attention, but the look of shock on new faces when a world famous rock star walks in and starts making out with the club’s young boss man always makes V smirk.

“Mmmm,  I missed you today baby,” purrs Kerry into V’s ear, “Watcha been up to?”

“Oh you know, meetings, looking at a car, went to see Johnny.”

Kerry’s eyes darken and he sits back on V’s knee. He’s not in the mood for an argument, needs to keep V sweet for what he has planned for him later, so chooses the lesser of two evils to complain about.

“Another car? Shit V I thought you’d looked at selling some of em, not buying more.”

V looks down smiling to himself, his diversionary tactic had worked better than he imagined, “I know Ker, but a guy I was selling one to had one he thought I’d like. What can you do?” the ex-merc reasons, shrugging his shoulders and putting his hand high on his input’s thigh.

Kerry sighs, he loves the gonk and can tolerate his stupid car collection if he must. “OK fine, but from now on it’s one in – one out.” The wicked smirk tells V that this turn of phrase is not entirely innocent or coincidental.

-

A couple of days later, V is back at his old apartment, it takes him an age to make his way from the lift having to stop to chat with Coach Fred, Wilson and Barry on the way, he reckons that it’d be a shame if Johnny moved and he had no excuse to see his old friends, maybe he could sub-let he muses.

 Johnny is lying on the bed reading a screamsheet and frowning, so V throws himself down next to him resting his chin on his shoulder, looking at what he’s reading.

“Would you look at that,” Johnny says, “Us Cracks have split up, musical differences. Shame, I liked them.”

“Wouldn’t’ve thought it was your sort of music.”

Johnny looked over his ever-present sunglasses at V, “Their music’s scop, teenybop shit with lyrics written by a six year old... but I liked the girls, they were hot.”

V should’ve known, that time he and Kerry met them at Riot Johnny was besotted, talked about how they were the future, but would look better with a bit of meat on their racks, he’s a class act.

“M-hm, Red called Kerry a few weeks ago, she wants to go in a more rock direction, the other girls are still into their dumb lazrpop, so she asked him if he’d work with her, do some writing, producing, whatever the shit it is that you musos do.”

Johnny appeared thoughtful...

V guessed what his friend was thinking, “No way Johnny, she’s done nothing to deserve an asshole like you drooling over her while she works, besides, Kerry would never allow it.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, changes the subject and shows V the list he’s written.

1 – bed

2- shower

3-

V turns to stare at Johnny, he knows the rocker is daring him to say something about it but can only see his own baffled reflection staring back from Johnny’s red lenses.

“What? I started and got bored.” Johnny shrugs by way of explanation.

Together, they spend the afternoon working on the list, V sticks it to the wall and they read it back in their heads with matching expressions, both scowling and moving their lips as they read. Johnny crosses his arms, takes a step back and nods in satisfaction, “Nova, that about covers it.”

V looks over smirking, “You know what you’ve done don’tcha? You’ve perfectly described Kerry’s old villa, the one you said was a Corpo’s wet dream, the one that you wouldn’t be seen dead in even though that’s exactly what you were doing at the time, the one......”

Johnny shut’s him down with a look, “Nah, I wanted a kitchen, that shit hole had a hot water tap and a coffee machine and for some fucking reason 64 cans of beef on the counter with no way of fucking cooking em.”

Turning to look at V’s grinning face, Johnny snaps, “What??”

“There was a kitchen, it was fucking A, it was in the cellar through that locked door. Kerry locked it after he set fire to it heating up some pizza when he was drunk so’s he’d never be tempted to go down there again. I fixed it up though, state-of-the-art cooker, pizza oven, marble worktops, kinda miss it...”

Johnny huffs and throws himself on the couch; V bounces down next to him, bringing the list.

Bedroom, separate from rest of living space

Shower, big enough for 2 or 3, variable height showerhead, good water pressure, added hot tub preferable.

Kitchen, basic, functional

Optional outside space, big enough to party

Inside space, big enough to party

Bar area

Space for guitars, recording equipment etc

V appears thoughtful, “I‘ve got a bit of a... what do you call it when you’ve got a few properties and rent them out?”

“Being a corpo scopbag? Being a dick?”

“Ha ha, no, begins with ‘P’”

“Being a prick then?”

“No...portfolio, that’s it I’ve got a bit of a property portfolio. You could look at some of those.”

Johnny looks incredulously at the ex-merc, wondering what magical fuckery had to take place in the universe for this gonk to not only own a fleet of (mostly) preem cars and be living in a penthouse with a rock star, but also have a fucking ‘portfolio’, whatever the fuck that was.

V could read his mind – almost literally,

“What? I worked hard, invested well...”

“Fucked a millionaire....”

“No actually, well yeah, but this is nothing to do with Ker, it’s all me.”

V logged into his old laptop and showed Johnny the pics and specs of his properties.

The one in Northside was pretty crappy and small, and besides, V used it when he was netrunning so that was out. Judy’s old apartment might have fit the bill, but V still hoped that she’d be coming back one day, so that’s off the list.

What about this one, large open living space, super-size shower, kitchen-dining area?

Johnny looks over the ex-merc’s shoulder with interest,

“Hmm, maybe. Where is it?”

V looks him in the eye,

“Corpo Plaza.”

V laughs hysterically at the look on Johnny’s face and can’t stop even when the other man punches him hard in the arm to make him shut up. Eventually V calms down enough to speak, but still can’t stop smirking,

“So that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“Fuck off.”

-

-

V didn’t keep secrets from Kerry, he maybe didn’t always tell him everything, but he certainly never lied, so when his mainline asks what he’s got planned for the day, V has to grudgingly admit,

“Told Johnny I’d help him find a new apartment, gonna take him over to The Glen, see what he thinks.”

V braces himself...

“No,” Kerry says quietly.

“The fuck Ker?”

“No,” he repeats, “ Johnny was a tumour in my brain way before he wormed his way into yours. He takes what he wants and leaves the empty shell behind, I should know. I’m not gonna let him fuck you up any more than he already has V. You’re not fucking going, I need you here today.”

V is momentarily silenced. He knows that Kerry has issues with Johnny, but up until now he figured that they’d eventually work it out and they’d all rub along together alright. Add to this to the fact that Kerry putting his foot down was pretty damn hot and V is left torn.

“But Ker, I promised...”

“Don’t give a shit V, not gonna stand back and watch him do to you what he did to me.”

V wraps his arms around his lover’s shoulders pulling him in tightly and sighs as Kerry’s arms slip around his waist. If he had to choose one of them it would always be Kerry and much as Johnny is a part of him, this is where he belongs right now. He fires off a message making his excuses and pulls Kerry down onto the couch...

-

Johnny reads the message and curses under his breath, not because he can’t see the apartment, but more because he was pretty sure that Kerry would’ve stopped being a dick by now and at least have tried to have a conversation with him.

 Why would the guy cough up half his fortune to bring him back from the dead and then ignore him, didn’t make sense.

V had flicked him the coords and the code for the Glen apartment anyway, might as well swing by and take a look.

Begrudgingly, V had let him have his Porsche back, so Johnny hops inside and takes a moment to wistfully run his hands over the steering wheel before setting off for Heywood. It’s not a long trip, definitely not long enough for the four-figure bounty Johnny racks up with his erratic driving, but what the hell, the car’s still in V’s name after all.

As soon as he sees the outside of the building, Johnny suspects that this might not be for him, a fact confirmed by the snooty concierge and catalogue-fresh decor of the lobby, but stepping into the main living space he’s pleasantly surprised and when he spots the pool table he’s pretty much sold.

He’ll give it a couple a days to see how it vibes with him.

-

-

It turned out that Kerry was right when he said that he needed V with him today, but not in a way either of them expected.

After a lazy lunch, Kerry had appointments to keep, a meeting with the corpos at his label followed by a rare personal appearance at Riot later on. Being on his short leash for the day made V the designated driver, he didn’t mind, he felt grounded driving the streets of the city, like he and it belonged to each other.

V stayed in the car while Kerry met with his staff at the label, he’d tried going to one of these meetings once before and Kerry still tells people about how he had to poke him in the leg with a pen to stop him snoring. He plays with the radio to bide the time, smiling when ‘Black Dog’ begins to play.

V: Hey, the radio’s playing your song.

Johnny: Only another 54,999 plays and I’ll be able to afford this apartment.

V: How you liking it?

J: It’s fine, apart from the corpo dick in reception. Gonna hang here for a couple of days, see how it fits.

Kerry comes stalking towards his Aerondight, the one V saves for when he’s got something to make up for, and throws himself into the passenger seat glowering towards the MSM building. V doesn’t ask, Kerry’s meetings always end like this and he’ll tell him about it at great length later.

“Riot then?”

“Mhm”

The car into the docking area under the club, much as he loves this city there’s no way he’s leaving this beauty out on the streets, and he and Kerry make their way to the dressing room. V lights a cigarette and passes it to his input, then pours a drink that he also passes over. Kerry, sat gazing into the starkly lit mirror, grabs his arm, “Thank you babe.”

V isn’t sure if he means for the drink, the cig or some general, expansive thing, either way his answer would be the same,

“No problem Ker.”

They pass the hour or so until Kerry’s appearance laughing about the first time they’d been in this room together, intimidating the now sadly disbanded Us Cracks girls. V cheerfully admits that he was already madly in love with the rockerboy at this point, while Kerry would only go so far as to say that he found the bratty young merc intriguing and insanely hot, V was more than happy with that.

“What’s the crowd like?” asks Kerry, confident in V’s ability to hack all and every device within a 5 mile radius.

His newly upgraded Kiroshis flip him through every camera in the place, “Pretty packed out, anyone would think someone important was coming.”

The rocker narrows his eyes and twists V’s nipple hard, then pecks him on the cheek, that remark will not go unpunished later he suspects.

At the appointed hour, V guides his man around to the backstage area and sets himself up at the back of the crowd to keep an eye on things. The crowd are giddy, but good natured. They sing along with a soulful acoustic version of ‘Chippin In’, they laugh in all the right places at Kerry’s hastily written speech and queue up dutifully to ask their questions. Most of them had spent a small fortune to be here and weren’t going to waste it by making trouble, some of the others had won the right to be there and were making the most of their good fortune, but there’s always somebody who has to spoil it.

V sensed something was amiss before he saw it. Years of merc work had attuned him to noticing things that others would miss, and what he noticed right now was a space in an otherwise crowded room, and the space was moving towards the stage, towards Kerry.

The ex-merc feels for Archangel in his holster and makes his way along the wall down to the stage, keeping in line with the disturbance in the crowd. Flashing his optics he can make out some sort of cloaking software surrounding the hazy shape of a well-built man, a well-built man aiming a gun at the best thing in V’s life.

Acting on pure instinct he leaps onto the stage knocking Kerry onto the ground and covering him with his own body, the men hit the ground as three shots ring out, the room falls silent before erupting in panic and screams.

V quickly checks that Kerry is unharmed and leaps into the panicking crowd to give chase, Kerry can only watch as the crowd closes behind his mainline’s back and the venue’s security finally show up to lead him to safety.

The chase takes V through to the back of the club and into the alley beyond where he tackles the man to the ground. Now he can see him up close the crazed look of early cyberpsychosis is clear, but he’s is pretty unforgiving when it comes to someone trying to flatline his mainline and takes an unseemly amount of pleasure in frying his synapses and finishing the job with a shot to the head.

Kerry sits fidgeting in the dressing room, “Shit V, c’mon, where are you?” he whispers under his breath. A commotion outside captures his attention, his initial panic turns to relief, hearing his partner’s raised voice as he tears a strip off the club’s security guards. The rocker opens the door to watch V in action, it turns him on no end to see his man sticking up for him, but on actually setting eyes on his mainline he feels only alarm as he watches the blood dripping from the fingers of his left hand and pooling at his feet.

V turns towards him and flashes a bright smile, before collapsing onto the floor.

-

Several hours later, Kerry is sharing a bottle of bourbon with Vik while V sleeps it off on the operating table. His sub-dermal armour had absorbed the worst of it, and his pain suppressors had stopped him from passing out initially but the blood loss combined with the adrenaline spike had nearly finished him off. He’d live but he was going to be pretty sore when he came around.

It was nearly three days later when he finally woke up, Kerry had been snoozing on and off on an old office chair by the side of V’s bed so the first thing V sees on waking is world famous rock superstar Kerry Eurodyne greasy-haired, snoring and drooling onto his three day old clothes.

“Hey Ker,” he croaks through parched lips, “you OK?”

Kerry’s eyes snap open and he grabs for V’s hand, shouting for Vik at the same time.

“I’m fine, thanks to you. You had us worried for a while there, how you feelin?” he asks softly.

V ponders this for a moment, everything seems to be working, but bits of him feel like they’re on fire.

“I’ve been worse.”

Vik shows him the bullets he dug out of his arm, neck and chest before putting them in the jar with all the others.

“Good to have you back son. You don’t need me to tell you that you lucked out again, but one day that luck’s gonna run out.”

“I know Vik, but if it hadn’t’ve been me it would’ve been Kerry and ...”

V realised that he couldn’t finish the sentence, just the thought of what could have been was enough to choke him.

Vik pats his shoulder, “Take two of these twice a day you’re good to go.”

On the taxi journey home the two lovers are unusually quiet, both lost in thought. V still pondering what might have been and Kerry, for the four hundredth or so time marvelling that V literally nearly just died for him.

Reaching the villa, Kerry helps V shower and change and then cleans himself up before they both fall into the bed, not emerging until late the next day.

-

Meanwhile...

Johnny is pissed, V’s ignoring his calls and he needs to offload onto him, selfish gonk.

Since his return, they hadn’t been apart for more than a couple of days, at first they’d make up excuses to see each other, but soon they just accepted that they wanted to spend time together, so they did. Not having seen V for days was making him irritable, making his skin itch. It was probably Kerry he’d decided. The crotchety old sourpuss had put his foot down and was keeping him to himself.

Shit, he was going to have to call him.

The call went straight to voicemail – of course it fucking did – and Johnny realised he had no idea what he was going to say and hung up. Pissing Kerry off would make it worse, and since even talking to Johnny seemed to piss him off he needed to figure out what to do.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to worry; Kerry called him later that evening.

“V asked me to call, wants to know what’s with all the messages?”

This pretty much confirms Johnny’s suspicions about V’s radio silence, but he wants to see his friend so plays nice.

“Needed to talk to him about the apartment, been a bit of a sich.”

Kerry sighs, “Well, we’ve had a kinda sich ourselves as it goes, only just got back from Vik’s...”

“Wait, is he OK? What kind of a sich? Kerry talk to me...”

“Calm down he’ll be fine, gonna rest up some then he wants you to come over, about this time tomorrow?”

“He wants me to come over? What do you want?”

Silence stretching on so long Johnny thinks Kerry has gone, “I want...V to be happy, you make him happy for some fucking unfathomable reason. See you tomorrow.”

Johnny is both worried and elated, Kerry said V was fine, he wouldn’t lie about that, but what had happened to keep him AWOL for three fucking days? At least he would be finally able to see him tomorrow, make sure he’s OK, see if there’s anything he needs... Johnny catches himself thinking about V’s well-being above his own pressing need to offload his problem on his ass, ‘Shit, I’m turning into as much of a princess as Kerry.’

-

Johnny had enjoyed his first afternoon in the apartment, the bar was well stocked and as well as the pool table to keep him occupied there was a massive screen TV. It had never really been his thing, but V and Kerry loved to watch ‘Big Little Corporats’ and it kinda stuck, so he spent the afternoon eating snacks in front of the TV and drinking V’s top-shelf tequila. He could actually see himself being happy here.

As darkness fell, Johnny had become restless. Rattling around the huge space with no direction and no V getting on his nerves was making him antsy, Christ only knows how Kerry stayed in that stupid, enormous villa by himself all those years without going..., hmmm....Johnny decides not to pursue that train of thought and to maybe go into town for a couple of hours.

Six hours later, at about the same time Kerry and Vik are sharing a drink, Johnny leads a merry group of bar-rats through the reception area and up to the apartment. Johnny mans the bar and lays on some preem tunes while his new choombas make themselves at home. The party goes on until sun is beginning to peek through the tinted windows and Johnny kicks the boot of the last, snoring guest telling him to delta. Overall it had been a nova night, nothing that couldn’t be fixed had happened to the apartment and, other than pretty much all V’s booze, everything seemed to be still here. Johnny laid down on the bed and drifted contentedly to sleep.

An annoying buzzing woke him up, he tried to block it out with the pillow, but it was very insistent so he figured he’d better investigate. It turned out to be the door, Johnny opened it and leaned on the doorframe with his arms folded whilst the concierge told him, in no uncertain terms, that he had to vacate the property.

“Choom, unbunch your panties, it was just a party. Or are parties not allowed in your precious building?”

The irate concierge conceded that, yes parties were indeed allowed, but amongst the things that are not allowed are sleeping in the corridors, defecating in communal plant pots, causing an unprecedented 27 noise complaints and copulation in the lobby. Johnny tried to explain that only one of those things was actually his fault, but it was too late, back to the old apartment it is then.

-

-

One of the benefits of V’s old place is that Johnny could get to his friend’s condo in no time, so he shrugs on his jacket, makes his way down in the lift and walks around the corner to their building. Other than last night’s call, he hadn’t spoken to Kerry since he’d left V’s head, hadn’t tried to, not worth the earache, and he’s not really looking forward to having to do it tonight, but if this is the only way to see V then it’s worth it. He presses the buzzer to the penthouse and is answered with a terse, “Come up,” as the elevator door pings open.

Johnny sees V lying on the couch and makes a beeline for him. Although the ex-merc is well-rested and feeling pretty chipper, Johnny can see bandages poking out from under his shirt and the ghost of dark rings under his eyes. It occurs to Johnny that he may have been a bit harsh in his previous assessment of the situation.

“Shit V, what the fuck happened?”

Kerry had diplomatically taken himself to the bedroom to give them time to talk. He picked up his acoustic guitar and began to play, picking out melodies and letting themes twist together. Below, V finds the distant noise soothing as he tells Johnny the story of what happened, the reanimated Rockerboy just finds it distracting. Once, a lifetime ago, he’d be up there with him, working on new songs, telling dumb jokes and drinking tequila instead of down here wondering what he’d done (lately) to piss him off so much.

V gets to the end of his tale, time for Johnny to confess...

“Decided the apartment wasn’t for me, fucking concierge had a stick up his ass, guess my face didn’t fit.”

V studies Johnny’s face for a moment, he knows he’s not telling the whole truth – mostly because the building supervisor sent him a message telling him what really happened – but he’s satisfied to see that the other man is unable to look him in the eye and is biting his lip guiltily and so doesn’t push for a full confession.

“Well, there’s still the apartment in Japantown, I think you’d like it. Give me a couple of days and I’ll drive you over there.”

-

Over the last few days as he waited for V to come around, Kerry’d had nothing but time to think. His first thoughts had been all about not being able to believe that V risked his life to save his own – he knew the gonk loved him and it’s one thing to say you’d take a bullet for your lover, but he actually went and did it. Kerry was pretty sure no-one had ever loved him enough to die for him before and it was an overwhelming feeling to know that now somebody did, especially when he realises that he feels exactly the same.

He went on to consider V’s and Johnny’s relationship. Kerry really was trying to save V from the inevitable heartache that Johnny dragged in his wake, but he was also stopping him from seeing someone he wanted to be with. He had experienced enough manipulation in his life to know how unhealthy that was for relationships and decided that he’d have to let his naive mainline find out for himself how Johnny could be, and just be there for him to pick up the pieces afterwards.

Right now though, Kerry had no intention of letting V out of his sight, so overhearing the plans for a trip to Japantown he decides he’ll tag along.

V isn’t a bit surprised the next day when Kerry announces he’s coming with them. He’s not left his side since the shooting and he doesn’t mind one bit. Looking over at his gorgeous Rockerboy as he makes coffee and chats about last night’s episode of Watson Whore that they watched whilst snuggled on the couch eating popcorn, V’s chest actually hurts at the thought that he could have lost him, that if he hadn’t have been there he’d be reading about his murder in the screamsheets and planning his mainline’s funeral instead of drinking his coffee and hearing his laugh.

 Right now he’ll happily spend every second of the day with him, you never know when another psycho will show up and Kerry will need him.

-

-

“We’re down in the garage. Taking the Mackinaw, meet you downstairs.”

Johnny hopes that V is using the ‘Royal we’ in that sentence. He was planning on taking him to the market for some quality time and noodles, not on sitting in an awkward silence watching Kerry glare at him from over his shades. His hopes are dashed however, approaching the truck Kerry is clearly in the passenger seat, glaring at him through the off-side mirror. V leans out of the window pointing over his shoulder to the rear door,

“Hey Johnny, you get the whole back seat to yourself how about that?”

He murmurs something that could’ve been ‘thanks’, or just as easily been ‘fuck off’.

V could feel the tension in the truck, no one had said a word since Johnny got in, Kerry was looking out of the side window with his hand on V’s leg, Johnny was lying down on the back seat out of his view, but he knew he’d be tapping on his chest and grumbling to himself. Actually it reminded him of the old days, Kerry by his side and a complaining, invisible back-from-the-dead rocker in the back of the car. He turns the radio on, then immediately regrets it. He keeps it tuned to Body Heat when it’s just him so’s he can bounce along to the mindless pop it dishes out, the track that is just firing up makes the back seat passenger sit bolt upright and V sees Kerry wince out of the corner of his eye.

Off the Leash, Kerry’s collab with the Us Cracks girls had passed Johnny by till now, when V was at Riot all those years ago watching it be unveiled he’d left his head terrorist in the car, having taken one of Vik’s pills in the hope of pulling a rock star, and by the time it was a huge hit, he was dead for the second time, so it’s with raised eyebrows and a shit-eating grin that he listens to the guitar riff that he would bet the farm on being a Eurodyne special.

V narrows his eyes and looks at him through the rear-view mirror willing him not to say anything but knowing that there’s no way on earth that he won’t.

“Well, this is a fun little ditty.”

Kerry had loathed the song by halfway through the promotional tour for it, everything about it grated on him, couldn’t even remember now why he thought it had been a good idea. At the time he thought he was showing the label that he couldn’t be pushed around, now he owns his own label he realises that all he did was make them a shit-ton of cash.

“It helped pay for you to be here making fucking snide remarks in the back of my mainline’s car instead of being in his head killing him, so on balance maybe it’s not so bad, eh Johnny?”

With both passengers now silently sulking, V pulls up outside the Westbrook apartment.

-

  V flicks Johnny the entry code,

“Go on up, have a look around. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes; me and Kerry just need to have a word.”

“Whatever, sure,” the rocker replies and makes towards the building.

V looks over at his partner calmly and waits,

“What?!” Kerry shrugs.

“Play nice Ker, it was your idea to come. If he’s getting to you that much maybe you should wait here till we get back.”

Ironically, given his profession, V was more of a lover than a fighter in his private life and didn’t see the point of antagonising people for no reason – of course Johnny would have said that antagonising them was a reason in itself, but still...

It was V’s turn to receive one of Kerry’s ice-cold glares,

“I didn’t come all this way to stare at the outside of an ugly apartment building; I can do that from the condo. Fine, I’ll try and be nice, for you though, not for that fucker.”

V smiles and gives Kerry a soft kiss,

“Thanks Ker, y’know if you two got along my life would be a helluva lot simpler.”

“Yeah well, baby steps. Let’s just get this afternoon over with first.”

They enter the apartment hand in hand; Johnny is nowhere to be seen, but the tell-tale strumming of V’s acoustic guitar leads them into the bedroom. V goes and sits on the bed next to his friend, crossing his legs and lying back into the pillows, Kerry watches from the doorway for a while then disappears into the other room, Johnny watches him go with a frown.

V closes his eyes listening to the newly formed melody, a repeating phrase that would stay with you for days the first time you hear it, at the edge of his hearing the muffled chords of an unplugged electric guitar join in and compliment the tune. Smiling, he leans forward to peer into the other room, the rocker has his eyes closed and is concentrating on following the tune, the guitar resting on his knee bounces gently as he taps his foot.

V nudges Johnny who looks up and meets Kerry’s eye, for a moment they carry on playing, but Kerry shakes his head, smiling sadly and carefully places the guitar back on the stand before wandering over to make a cup of coffee. Johnny feels a hand squeeze his shoulder and V disappears into the living room leaving him to his strumming.

V slips his hands around Kerry’s waist and kisses him on the back of the neck,

“That sounded nova, you should play together more often.”

“Nah, those days have been and gone, ‘sides,” he grins, “we’d prolly end up killing each other before the end of the first song.”

-

Johnny is pretty taken with the apartment, it seems cosy without being tiny, has a basic kitchen area, big shower, a room full of big guns that V won’t give him the code to,  enough of Japantown’s finest kitsch to sink a yacht and importantly, they don’t give a shit what you get up to in the lobby. V makes him promise not to do anything stupid and says he’ll be back in a couple of days to see how he’s getting along.

-

Kerry looks like he needs cheering up, V suggests leaving the truck behind, getting some food and maybe hitting a bar, so grabbing the Rockerboy’s jacket and shades from the passenger seat they head into town.

Cherry Blossom Market is pretty quiet at this time of day, ideal conditions for a world-famous rockstar and his locally renowned ex-merc partner to have a bit of fun.  They head to the noodle bar in what used to be the Rainbow Cadenza, V sits enraptured whilst Kerry tells tales of rock, roll and drunken debauchery, sanitized slightly so’s not to send his input running screaming back to Mama Welles.

“I hadn’t thought about this place in years,” says Kerry wistfully, “the club was way before your time babe, how did you find out about it?”

V explains the mission that Johnny had sent him on that introduced him to the store and its surly owner, and also to Karim, the vendor down the way who sells old bootlegs and claims to be Samurai’s biggest fan. Kerry ponders this new information,

“Cool, I love meeting fans from the old days,” V looks at his partner with narrowed eyes, Kerry hates talking about his time in Samurai with a passion, so what’s he playing at?

“Let’s go fuck with him.”

Yeah, that makes more sense.

Kerry shrugs on his (well V’s) oversized jacket, zips it up to his neck, pulls the hood over his head and hides his distinctive eyes behind his shades. V doesn’t think the disguise would fool a blind bat in a blackout, but Kerry’s been getting away with it for decades so what does he know? He explained to him once that it doesn’t always work in bars or nice restaurants cuz that’s where people expect to see him, but no one expects him to be in dive bars and grocery stores, so it’s nova in those places, or in seedy markets it turns out.

The pair make their way toward the tatty memorabilia stall, V is pretty sure they’re not going to get away with this, but Kerry’s enjoying himself so, whatever. V flicks through the disks while the rocker stands with his hands in his pockets – hiding his rings – looking moodily at the merchandise under the glass counter.

“I know you...” Kerry tenses, V looks up from the box of records occupying his attention, “You bought a bootleg a while back, a big fan if I remember right.”

“Yeah, preem listening, but I played it to my friend here and he didn’t much like it.”

Karim looks over at V’s friend and studies him closely; closely enough that V is getting nervous that they’ve been found out and it’ll cause a riot,

“Well choom,” he addresses Kerry, “it’s a pity you’re too young to have seen them in their heyday,” V has to turn away to stifle a laugh, “they rocked like nobody else. Those songs of Silverhand’s spoke to the audience, spoke to a whole generation.”

Whatever points Karim had gained by saying Kerry was too young, he’d definitely lost again now.

“Silverhand was an out of control narcissist with the subtlety of a brick to the head,” Kerry informs the vendor with an increasingly strained light tone, “I’ve heard the real talent was the other one, the cute one,” V raises his eyebrows, unbelieving that his partner is really going there, “though I prefer his solo stuff.”

“Kerry Eurodyne? Yeah, he’s talented alright, puts on a good show, but he’s never been able to match Silverhand’s passion, or his charisma.”

V slides closer to Kerry, maybe he can quietly drag him away before he creates a scene..?

As Kerry slams his hands onto the counter the clatter of his rings could be heard all round the market, he looks at the stallholder over the top of his glasses, clicking his fingers at V and pointing at the box he was just perusing.

“A passionate, charismatic asshole is still an asshole,” he growls snatching a pen off the counter and scrawling on the front of the copy of Second Conflict that V had mutely passed over to him.

Karim watches Kerry’s back as he stalks away pursued by the younger man who grabs his hand. He wasn’t sure he believed his eyes till he looked at the front of the LP that the guy had thrown at him as he left, “Fuck off Karim, Love Kerry Eurodyne x.”

-

V catches up with his mainline, “Sorry Ker, didn’t think he’d be such a dick,” but as he looks at his face he sees that the other man is actually smiling to himself.

“It’s all good V, I’ve left a lasting impression and he’s got a story to tell. That vinyl’s worth a mint now too, prolly more than he makes in a month, so who’s he gonna be talking about from now on, Kerry Eurodyne or Johnny asshat Silverhand?”

V throws an arm around his man’s shoulders; he’ll never stop being surprised by him.

“Let’s go find a drink,” he suggests.

-

Johnny spent a couple of hours fooling around on the guitars, might even have the beginnings of something good going on, he’d gotten himself some food, played a few rounds of Roach Race and was now relaxing on the couch. He’d always liked Japantown, right from the early days of the band playing at the Rainbow it was a chilled place to hang and explore, score, drink and watch the world go by, he even had a favourite spot, sitting on the wall at the end of Jig Jig Street, so he decided to look over the old town.

The place hadn’t changed much in the last 50 years, the stalls were different sure, but the actual market was much the same, so Johnny finds himself following his old routes to see if they still lead to some preem bars.

The first couple were deader than even he’d ever been, but up ahead, at the edge of the market, there’s one that seems to have something going on. Getting closer it seems there’s a band playing, and not half bad by the sound of it so Johnny decides to investigate.

 Passing the grimy window he notices Kerry inside sat in a dimly lit corner booth smiling and tapping on the table to the beat, V appears with drinks, puts them on the table and slides into the booth where he whispers something into the other man’s ear causing them both to laugh, then V sits and lets Kerry cross his legs over his lap. Something about the scene makes Johnny vaguely sad, he doesn’t really want to analyse why, he does, however now want to get roaring drunk, so he heads into the bar.

V sees him first, giving a shrill, two-fingered whistle that attracts the attention of most of the bar, he waves Johnny over, left without much choice he makes his way to their booth.

“You shoulda said you were coming out, we could’ve met you somewhere.” V chirps happily. Johnny looks over to Kerry hiding behind his bourbon and his shades.

“Yeah well, I’m not staying long. Just looking around the old place.”

Johnny perches on a stool at the edge of their table answering V’s inquisition about what he thinks of the apartment and avoiding Kerry’s silent glare.

It seems to Johnny, that Kerry has spent a good portion of around seventy of the last ninety years being pissed with him about something or other. Being stuck in V’s head – which is one of the things Kerry was pissed about - had made him realise that some (most) of the time he might have deserved it. He’d been a complete bastard to pretty much everybody he’d met at some point, but no-one more than Kerry, the man who was supposed to be his best friend. He didn’t exactly feel guilty about it, that not being one of his limited range of emotions, but it did explain some of Kerry’s reluctance to have anything to do with him.

V goes back to the bar and Johnny decides he’s got to say something,

“Ker, talk to me. I know we’ve had our problems but you need to lighten up. If the kid wasn’t so well-balanced this’d be tearing him apart. We don’t have to be best chooms, but we can be civil, for his sake if not ours.”

“It’s for his sake that I haven’t shot you in the fucking head, and that I didn’t unplug you when you were in that research facility,” hisses Kerry.

“So why’d you help to bring me back if you want me dead? You had what you wanted, then paid big eddies to get something that pissed you off. Even for you that’s gonk.”

Kerry sits back in his seat and closes his eyes, why isn’t he surprised that the first proper conversation they’ve had is already turning into an argument? It’s not like he hasn’t wondered himself a hundred times why he brought Johnny back, he told himself that it was for V, cuz he wanted it so badly, he’d been so sick and it was something that Kerry could do for him to make him feel better, but that wasn’t the whole truth.

He takes off his sunglasses and looks at Johnny with the bright blue eyes that the other man will never get used to.

“I tried to fucking save you the first time, back in the day, I tried so damn hard but you just wouldn’t let me. One way or another you were going to kill yourself and I could either watch or walk away...” Johnny just nods, it’s all true, “but I got the chance to save you again, I mean fuck, who gets that? Whether you wanted me to or not, you couldn’t stop me, so I did it. I don’t need you in my life anymore, I don’t see us ever being friends again, but I guess I don’t want you dead either.”

V tried really hard not to eavesdrop from the bar, but when he saw the two Rockerboys finally talking it was almost by accident that he tuned everything else out and picked up their conversation. He knew how Kerry felt, they’d talked about it often enough, he was disappointed that he was determined to keep his distance from Johnny, but pleased that they’d finally cleared the air, maybe it could be a stepping stone to something else down the line.

Johnny stayed just long enough to finish the drink he’d been brought, then disappeared into the now chaotic market leaving the lovers to their annoying moon-eyes and hand-holding.

-

It takes two days before Johnny is back in Watson, and another call from a building supervisor to alert V to the fact.

V: What did you do this time??!!!

Johnny: About what?

V:  You know what

J: ......

J: It caught fire a bit

V: How the fuck does an apartment catch fire A BIT?????

V: Kerry’s on some calls upstairs, come over and explain yourself Silverhand

J: Ugh fine, gimme five

It wasn’t his fault, who fills an apartment with fucking incense and candles and then gives it to someone as irresponsible as him? In fact V should count himself lucky it was only the bedroom that was a right off, the smoke damage to the rest of the apartment would probably clean up just fine.

“I rescued the guitars,” offers Johnny after relating his tale to V,

“Well thank fuck for that, you nearly burnt an apartment block to the ground but you rescued a couple of crappy guitars.”

“Well, look at Mr Portfolio with his giant condo and shitty attitude...”

Even though they are sat by the pool outside, Kerry can hear the commotion from his upstairs office and comes to investigate. He watches them from the door for a moment, virtually spitting venom into each other’s faces, but still sat shoulder to shoulder with their fingertips touching. An almost sickening wave of déjà vu hits him, fifty some years ago this was him and Johnny, constantly at each other’s throats but each drawn to the other, the difference is, V has Kerry in his corner.

“What’s the sonofabitch done now?”

V spins around to face Kerry, nearly pushing Johnny into the pool as he stands up and strides towards his mainline.

“He set fire to my fucking apartment Ker,” V rumbles, “and he’s not even fucking sorry!”

V is as mad as Kerry has ever seen him, the older man soothes him with gentle rubs to his arms and back and with strokes to his hair as he nestles his head in the rocker’s neck. Kerry tells him to go inside and waits until he disappears before joining Johnny by the side of the pool and sitting beside him.

“You’ll lose him y’know if you carry on taking advantage and acting like a dick.”

Johnny carries on scowling at the water, “It’ll get so that even though he can’t bear to be away from you, he won’t be able to stand being in the same room, so he’ll just stop trying. Years down the line he’ll be messed up and wondering what he could have done to change things.”

Taking his glasses off, Johnny looks over at Kerry with something approaching concern,

“I don’t want that, I like having him around.”

“I know you do, and he wants to be around you too for now, but as you pointed out, he’s a well-balanced guy, not some twenty year old stoner with a crush. He won’t put up with your shit for long no matter how much he loves you.” Johnny raises an eyebrow at the L word, “Platonically of course,” laughs Kerry after seeing the look on Johnny’s face, “I mean, he’s got me filling his every thought and need, and making his world that much more dazzling, and besides, I’ll shoot you in the face if you touch him.”

Johnny smiles wryly, “Thanks Ker, I get it, I’ll try.”

“I know you will, now fuck off for a couple of days and let him calm down, I’m sure he’ll call ya.”

-

Kerry finds V lying on the bed, legs crossed arms behind his head, frowning at the ceiling, he sits beside him and scoots over allowing the other man to rest his head in his lap.

“You were right Ker, he’s such a dick!”

Stroking his hair and humming softly, Kerry sighs,

“Yeah well, give him a while. Maybe he’ll change...”

[slasher-male-wife]

Ice skating with Brahms

This is Brahms x masc reader fluff. This is mostly for writing practice but if you want me to write something else I’ll do that, just request it. 

It's a cold winter day. You noticed the lake nearby had frozen over and saw some other people ice skating over there and thought it might be fun to take Brahms over there with you and skate. You noticed what looked like skates that could fit the both of you when you were up in the attic grabbing a box. So one morning while you and Brahms are cuddling listening to music you pop the question.

"Do you know what ice skating is Brahms?" He nods.

"I do. I did it before when I was younger, but I haven't since." He starts playing with your hair.

"Well I saw some other people skating out there and I wanted to know if you wanted to go do that with me." Brahms stops for a moment, then goes back to playing with your hair.

"What if I get hurt? What if I get caught?" He asks his tone growing more childish. You kiss his porcelain forehead and smile.

"Brahms I promise I won't hurt you ok? You were so brave when you went for that walk out of the gate with me before. You can do this alright?" He nods and lifts up his mask.

"Can I get a real kiss for being brave?" You nod and plant your lips on his. You two stay there kissing for awhile

It's the next day and you two are getting ready to go out. You've got on some thick pants a sweater and a coat. Brahms comes down in a coat of his own. It's open showing his green sweater. You smile and put on your gloves. "You ready to go Brahms?" You ask picking up the skates. Brahms plays with his hands. He looks very nervous. You walk over and pat his shoulder. "Brahms you'll be fine ok? You like playing in the snow don't you? This is kinda like that ok?" He nods.

"But what if I get hurt?" He asks. This is like trying to get him out of the gate all over again. He's so stubborn sometimes. You just wanna shake some sense into him. You sigh and take his hands.

"Brahms, you'll be fine ok? Just if you get hurt we can come back home and I'll make you hot chocolate ok? And plenty of kisses." He makes a little annoyed noise and gives in.

"Fine I'll go with you. But one kiss before we go." He says lifting up his mask. You smile and kiss his lips once he's at your height. You pull away and smile. You take Brahms hand and walk out of the house and gates with him. It's cold and snowy outside. Perfect for ice skating. Brahms is lagging behind so you have to keep pulling him.

"Brahms if you keep this up I'll go by myself ok?" This gets him to stop. He quickly picks you up and keeps walking to the frozen over lake.

" That's against the rules. You always have to be with me." You chuckle and pat his back.

"Ok lovely I'll stay with you. Just put me down ok?" He shakes his head.

"No way I'm not letting you down. I'm carrying you all the way there. I gotta make sure you don't leave." You chuckle again about how serious he's being about this.

“Brahms I’m not gonna leave you ok? We’ve been over this so many times.”

“Well I gotta be sure about this (Y/N) I don’t want my partner running off.”

 Eventually you two get there and Brahms sits you down on a picnic table. You slide off your boots and put on your skates. Brahms does the same and ties the laces himself. He's been working on doing that lately. You get down and slide onto the ice. Catching your balance and gliding smoothly along the ice. Brahms is standing at the edge. You look over and skate back to him.

"Brahms look I'll help you onto the ice if you need ok? Here take my hands." You says holding them out. He take them and you back up a bit. "Now step on the ice. You can do it." He shakily steps onto the ice and grips your hands tightly. You skate backwards and he skates forwards. "You're doing great Brahms. I'm gonna go to your side ok?" He nods and you let go of his left hand and shift over to the right. You two are slowly gliding on the ice. Brahms is watching your feet and copying your moves. After a few minutes Brahms feels more confident in skating. You let go and he doesn't mind. He's smoothly circling around the lake. You're skating and doing tricks on the ice as he moves around you.

"This is easy. I like this." He says skating to you. You meet up with him and smile.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this so much Brahms. I really like this too." He smiles and take your hand. You two start to skate around the lake in circles. Brahms wants to keep going faster and faster but you keep him from doing that. You know one fall and he'll be upset for days. You've now grown used to the cold air around you. Your face has gotten redder around your nose and cheeks. You try to keep your face down to avoid getting it colder. Brahms seems unbothered by this. He seems to be ok with the cold. You're so caught up in your thoughts you start to fall back. You get ready to hit the ice hard but it never comes. You open your eyes and see Brahms caught you. You smile and He does too.

"Kiss?" He asks getting you back on your feet. You nod and he lifts up his mask. You give him a nice long kiss only breaking away when you need to get air. You grab his hand again and you two skate around with each other once more. "I'm cold. Can we go home now?" Brahms asks. You nod again let of his hand. You go back to the table and take off your skates. Brahms does the same and soon the two of you are off back to the house. Brahms is going on about how much he misses hot chocolate and cookies like he had as a kid you nod holding his hand.

"You wanna make some when we get back home Brahms?" He nods excitedly.

"Yes please lets do that. I can help too. I have lots of books on baking in the walls." He says picking up the pace a bit. You're dragged along a bit but you chuckle anyway as you go along with him. Once back at the house Brahms quickly takes off his coat and gloves and runs into the walls to get a book. You smile and take yours off a bit slower. You hang up the skates and walk to the kitchen. You grab some hot chocolate mix and heat up some milk for it. Once you're done stirring the hot chocolate together Brahms emerges from the walls again and has a cook book open. "I'm making sugar cookies." He says grabbing all the ingredients.

"Ok Brahms but I made us some hot chocolate too. Let's drink some of that first ok?" He groans and takes his mug. He takes his mask off and sits at the table. You sit with him and ruffle his hair. Brahms takes a sip and smiles. "You like it Brahmsy?" You ask taking a sip of your own.

"It's very very good. I missed this so much. Thank you (Y/N) You're such a good boyfriend." He says kissing you on the cheek. You smile and kiss his back. You two sit there talking and laughing and sipping on your hot chocolate until it's gone.

"You ready to make those cookies handsome?" You ask. Brahms nods and goes back to getting out the ingredients. You smile and grab a few bowls and some spoons. Brahms gets to work quickly making the cookies. You preheat the oven and grease some pans while Brahms pumps away at the bowls. "You have any cookie cutters Brahms?" You ask looking in drawers. He nods.

"One of the lower right drawers. He says taking the cookie dough and rolling it out on a cutting board. You find them after a bit of looking. They're in the shape of animals. You smile and start to cut out shapes and put them on the pan. Brahms does this too and you slide the cookies in the oven, saving the rest of the dough by putting it in the freezer. "Hug." Brahms says holding out his arms. You smile and hug him. He hugs back tight and lifts you up. You laugh and he spins around a bit.

"Brahms put me down! Come on this isn't funny!" You chuckle out. He slows down the spinning down.

"Then why are you laughing?" He asks kissing your cheek repeatedly.

"Cause you're being stupid, stupid!" Brahms laughs this time and hugs you tighter.

[catlady5001]

prompt: kouda is freaking out because there is a bug so tsu eats it

ooh this was a fun one to write!!

its cross-posted to ao3!

She says yes, and the next day Kouta is dropped on 1-A’s doorstep. 

Mina perks up at the doorbell. “Who’s that?”

“Aizawa-sensei,” Tsuyu responds as she opens the door. “Hello, Kouta.”

“Hi,” he says sullenly. 

“I’ll be back at five,” Aizawa says, then walks off, hands in his pockets. Tsuyu doesn’t bother to watch him leave, instead directing her attention to Kouta. 

“Want to come play Mario Kart?” she asks. 

“Sure,” he says reluctantly. 

Inside the common room, all commotion comes to a standstill. For a moment, all is silent. 

Then, Kirishima exclaims, “Tsuyu! You have a kid?!”

Bakugou whacks him over the head. “He’s not hers, shitty hair!”

“Language,” Mina singsongs. 

Bakugou ignores her. “He’s that kid from the training camp.” At Kirishima’s blank look he adds, smirking, “He’s the kid who punched Deku in the balls.”

“Oh!” he exclaims, his eyes lighting up. He smiles at Kouta, who’s been watching this exchange with relative disinterest. “Nice to see ya again, kid!”

“Uh huh,” Kouta says, unimpressed. 

“Heya!” Kaminari exclaims, waving briefly before his hand darts back to the controller. “What’s up?”

“Nothing interesting,” Kouta says, with a pointed glance around the common room. 

“Hey!” Sero objects. “We’re plenty interesting.”

“Sure,” Tsuyu says, then says to Kouta, “We’ve got snacks in the kitchen, if you want. 

“I guess I am kinda hungry,” Kouta says. Tsuyu nods, and leads him away as Mina makes a vaguely disappointed sound. 

She lets Kouta have his pick of Bakugou’s secret food stash— she knows Bakugou’s more of a softy than he lets on, and if he’s really mad she’ll take the blame— and she grabs a juice box for each of them. 

“Do you want to go hang out more with them, or find something else?” Tsuyu asks. “I could raid Iida’s room for books, or Kirishima’s for board games.”

Kouta shrugs. “I dunno.”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Tsuyu says calmly. She takes a sip of her own juice box, and waits. Her own siblings have trouble deciding, too, and she’s learned it’s better to give them time to think than to pick something they aren’t in the mood for. 

After a minute of deliberation, Kouta asks hesitantly, “Could we go outside?”

“Sure,” Tsuyu says. “Do you want to bring any frisbees or chalk or anything, or just hang out?”

“Chalk could be fun,” he decides. 

Tsuyu nods. “I’ll be right back.”

She runs to her room to grab the spare chalk she keeps up there, then heads down to meet Kouta again. 

There’s a small courtyard between the two buildings comprising the first year hero classes, below the bridge that connects them. There are benches and flowers surrounding the perimeter, and a bubbling fountain in the middle. It’s peaceful, and Tsuyu has studied here with Izuku on more than one occasion. Kouta is equally as enamored with it, if his wide eyes are any indication. He wanders around for a few minutes, familiarizing himself with the miniature landmarks, before he returns to Tsuyu for the chalk. 

“Want me to color with you?” she asks curiously, when he doesn’t run off for the sidewalk. 

“Only if you wanna,” he says sullenly, which is kid-speak for yes. 

She settles into the sidewalk beside him, and watches as he dumps the bucket of chalk on the ground. “What do you want to draw first?”

“I’m going to draw Deku,” he answers. “You can draw whatever you want.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” Tsuyu says. “I’ll draw my friend, Ochako-chan.”

“Okay,” he says quietly. They each grab a starter piece of chalk and begin to draw. Kouta starts with harsh, bold strokes that start at Izuku-chan’s shoes. It’s then that Tsuyu notices Kouta’s own shoes, which are the same terrible shade of red. 

For a while they keep on like that, each drawing their own hero. Then Kouta shrieks, and Tsuyu immediately looks up, assessing the area for danger. 

“What’s wrong, Kouta-chan?” she asks urgently. 

“There’s a spider on my drawing!” he exclaims, distressed. 

Before he finishes his sentence, Tsuyu flicks out her tongue and eats the arachnid in one bite. “Not anymore,” she says. 

“You just— you just ate a bug!” Kouta exclaims. “Right off the sidewalk!”

“Yes, and?” Tsuyu asks, an eyebrow raised. 

Kouta wrings his hands together, then says quietly, “Thank you, miss Asui.”

“No problem, kid,” she says. “And please. Call me Tsuyu.”

[morceid]

hey guys 🧍

i wanna give a little update on how i’m doing because. yeah.

i’m still not doing the best i could be but i’m better than when i had to start taking my break from tumblr so that’s pretty slay. i also say slay. so much. anyways.

i miss writing so freaking much. i reeeeeeeaaaaaallllyy wanna write a lot but i do not have a personal laptop currently and i can’t upload fics from my school laptop which sucks 🧍 however the school year ended like two days ago so i’m gonna have plenty of time to get bored and start writing on my school computer anyways

a couple more things that have been going on with me recently: i almost failed biology because i “skipped” (quotations because i had a pass to leave 🙄) to go to my friends class because he’s a senior and i wanted to spend a lot of time with him before he graduated (i went to graduation and the only reason i didn’t cry is because it was too public of a space but inside i was being emotionally destroyed and he gave me the sweetest hug when i saw him afterward) but i didn’t fail so yaaayy! also on his last day i only went to two classes. as opposed to eight. and one of them doesn’t count because we don’t do anything in that class. yeah. i’ve also been not as active just in general because i have been hanging out with people a lot. that kind of goes in with the skipping. one time i skipped art class and my friend drove me and another friend to ANOTHER friends house and we helped him build a bridge for his engineering class and we were all gonna go to ihop afterward but only me and the guy who took us were allowed to be out that late because making the bridge took way longer than expected so it was just me and him and i told him about all of my trauma and now we’re super close (our RAADS test scores are three numbers apart) and we’re pretty much the same person

i really hope i am able to be more active on tumblr in the next few weeks, i still love criminal minds so so much, and i love all u guys so so much, so hopefully i’ll see you soon.

[janeykath318]

Mission: Marriage Chapter 2

Natasha twirled the ring on her left hand, contemplating her new status. She still almost couldn’t believe she’d gone through with it, and there was a lot she and Steve would have to talk through, but her gut was telling her very strongly she’d made the right choice. A few years ago, she would have scoffed at the very idea of marriage, but after the brief relationship with Bruce, she’d started to think it might not be such an impossible idea after all. Bruce had been a very good listener and very sweet about the things she’d confided to him, but he turned out to not be ready for anything serious. She suspected that Betty Ross had something to do with that.

She wandered into the kitchen where Steve was happily making breakfast, flipping pancakes with ease and frying bacon to the perfect crispness.

She snatched a piece and took a seat on the stool across the counter from him.

“Morning,” he greeted her. “Sleep okay?”

“Unusually well, thank you. And I see I got myself my own personal cook now.”

She popped the bacon in her mouth and gave him a thumbs up.

“Perfect. You have the makings of the ideal house husband. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Steve grinned one of his bashful smiles.

“Plenty. Hopefully, nothing deal-breaking though. I can’t sew or change your oil, and my laundry folding skills are somewhat lacking.”

Natasha chuckled. “I think I can manage to put up with that,” she teased. “My clothes organization skills are nothing to write home about and the only time I cook is when I’m actually trying to poison someone.”

Steve straight up laughed at that and she couldn’t help but smile. He was too cute when he laughed, head thrown back, eyes crinkling and hand clutching his chest. If she was around that a lot, she just might be very smitten.

“Good to know. If you cook for me, you’re trying to rid of me.”

His expression turned more serious and he leaned over the counter toward her.

“Nat, I want you to know if you ever change your mind about this, well, us……..I would face anything rather than having you be miserable. And if the accords get repealed or I get pardoned, well, you wouldn’t have to stay in the marriage if you didn’t want to.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, Steve,” Natasha answered gently. “I think at this point the chances of one of us dying are greater than us being miserable together. We may fight sometimes, but I could never be mad at you for very long, even when you’re at your most stubborn mule.”

“Same,” Steve admitted with a fond smile.

They contentedly enjoyed the pancakes for the next few minutes and Natasha allowed herself to revel in the domesticity of it all. It didn’t hurt that Steve’s fabulous arms and chest were shown off gloriously by the tank top he wore.

Afterward they shared dish duty and chatted about the monumental events of the previous day.

“You think word’s gotten out yet?” he asked.

“It’ll probably get out this morning,” she sighed. “I’ll have to brace myself to deal with Tony. He’s gonna be so annoying.”

“Definitely,” Steve sighed, with a shudder and a haunted look that said a lot. “Since he won’t speak to me I’m guessing that’ll fall on you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she told him reassuringly. She knew how hard the friendship break up had been on both of them, even if they wouldn’t admit it. “I’m used to handling him and if he still misbehaves, I’ll get Pepper involved.”

“If that doesn’t work, nothing will,” Steve agreed. He had a lot of respect for Pepper Potts. Lord knows the stuff she’d dealt with.

“Any plans for the day?” she asked him casually.

“Other than spending time with my wife, no,” Steve said, giving her another one of those slightly uncertain smiles. “Might do some sketching.”

“Sounds like a nice day,” she agreed. “Holing up here is going to be our safest bet once the headlines start rolling in.”

She grimaced as she heard her phone ringing relentlessly.

“Ugh. I’d better check that. Wanna bet on how many calls I take before I shut the phone off?”

“Knowing how little you suffer fools, I’ll say five or under,” Steve replied. “Let me know if I need to use the Captain voice on anyone. I may not have the shield anymore, but I can still talk the talk.”

Natasha shot him a grin as she headed for her room.

She could handle the nosy callers easily, but even the Black Widow appreciated back up.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Things are picking up.

On the movie front, last Tuesday night we revisited "The Last Holiday" with Queen Latifa and LL Cool J. It's not specifically a Christmas movie but between the title and all the snow...

It always feels like one.

Thursday night we began our first step in a stroll through the Christmas episodes of "Call the Midwife" that will eventually culminate in strolling through the Christmas episodes of BBC's "Ghosts".

By Friday night, though, we’d only indulged the second Christmas episode from "Call the Midwife" which brings us to 2013. So yeah. There are still plenty of Christmas episodes from that series to watch.

Saturday night, last night, was a big one for reasons I'll get to presently. 

We started with the classic of classics, "A Christmas Story", stayed in that groove with "Elf", and, just after midnight, "Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown" from our own DVD collection. The most classic of classics.

So why were we up so late?

Interestingly, the stars aligned so that we got a jump start on Christmas cards and wrapping Christmas presents.

Now, I've been picking at our Christmas letter for a few weeks. A coupla days ago, Friday, it was done and printed (with a couple variations for different sections of our friend- and family-sphere). I already had the return address labels from last year, the "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" seal for the envelopes, and the Peanuts stamps I bought at the post office a couple weeks ago after looking through their binder of stamps.

Oh, and the cards, of course. Ones we collected over the years.

Collected?

Well, I’m talking about the cards that remain after any given year. Because the next year we'd start with a new set of Christmas cards. So we've been collecting the remainders for quite some time now.

This year, then, we're drawing from an eclectic and wonderful collection of Christmas card designs.

Now, the final step in the process of getting each card ready for mailing is a quick handwritten note in each one. I don't know what to tell you. I think I picked this habit up from my parents. And then sized up the effort over the years.

At its heart, though, the process of putting a card together and writing a note is, for each one, that I’m taking a few minutes to think about each friend, each family, each person, before sending our finest holiday wishes their way.  😊

And then Kimmer.

Kimmer's actually been super motivated to start wrapping presents for each other, our family, and friends for a couple weeks now.

Why?

Because all of it usually falls to the last minute on all counts. With our own gifts to each other often wrapped between midnight and 2AM Christmas morning. If not later.

Call it an involuntary Christmas tradition that bleeds late into the following morning after a full Christmas Eve day and night.

So.

Kimmer’s trying something new. And, as a result, maybe we’ll make it to bed earlier the night before Christmas so all those sugarplums can do their thing.

By the way, we didn't start last night with cards, presents, and classic Christmas movies and television. We actually began with cards, presents, and that Christmas album, "December", by Kenny Logins. It's a special album to us because it once belonged to our friend, Scott, who's been gone for a decade or so now. He's still heavy on our minds and hearts whenever we indulge this music at this time of year. And we do. We do indulge it a lot this time of year. Remembering our dear, dear friend with whom we began our professional careers in our twenties. Who was there at the start of our family tales.

Last thing I wanna mention. I'm nearly done with my Christmas shopping. Of course I'm only collecting presents for Kimmer while she's collecting presents for me and, well, everyone else.

More than anyone in our family, she’s Santa Claus. Straight up.

I just wanted to say, you know, I’m nearly done with my Christmas shopping.

[no-droids]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal​

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

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

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

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

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

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

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

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

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

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

And it was fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well.  Fair.

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking abou—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–6:15am:

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

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

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

***

Day 1–7:06am:

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

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

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

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–12:00am:

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

“Wake up.”

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

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

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

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

No—

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t need to ask.

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

***

Day 2–5:34am:

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

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

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

Din is asleep?  Seriously?

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

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

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

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

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

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh.  What the fuck was that?

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

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

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

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

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

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

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

Day 3–12:00am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your coordinates—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 3—2:23am:

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

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

***

To be continued!!

[silverhairsimp]

MINE - Satoru Gojo - Slutty Old Men Collab Submission

CW: Gojo is a whore, Voyeurism, fingering, edging, masturbation (f,m), instructed masturbation, cursing, hair pulling, choking (more like gojo just grabs your throat a lot), Gojo doesn't give you any aftercare (sorry).

Word Count: 4,238

A.N.: Special thanks you @cherrykamado for letting me join your collab! I had so much fun writing this! Also apologies it's a few days late! I honestly didn’t edit this or read it over. I was too excited to post.

Taglist: @weebaboobs @scarlettriot @butteringg

18+ below. MINORS DO NOT ENTER.

It had been a long 48 hours. The longest 48 hours of your life if you’re being honest. From the time you left Sendai, the trip to Otakamori, and fighting a special grade upon your arrival to the island scattered city. You all knew you’d have your hands full, but jumping head first into a battle where the minutes had turned to hours due to the cursed energy definitely threw a wrench in everyone's plans of having a smooth mission. 

You were thankful for your teammates and your ability to work together. Your years at Jujutsu High, and now into your third year at the University have allowed for plenty of time to grow close to your three friends. Even your teacher, Satoru Gojo, decided to follow your group of once troublesome teenagers to college. You all were so special to him, there was no way he was letting you all go. Or should he say letting you go. 

Without Megumi, Yuji, Nobara and Gojo, the success rate of your mission would not be what it was. With the curse exercised and the exhaustion settling in, you could hear the hot springs calling your name. Unfortunately, even given the beauty of Otakamori, the only way to your next destination was by boat. 

You find yourself sitting with Nobara at the stern of the boat. Watching the land grow farther and farther away, cursed energy still feels like it’s surrounding you. 

“I have a very uneasy feeling that things are far from over,” she says.

“You’re right about that. You think this mission will be extended longer than the last one?” you ask as you drop your head between your arms and lean over the railing. Watching the waves splash up against the boat. 

“You know Gojo Sensei is going to want to go sightseeing somewhere along the way.”

You laugh because she’s right. He always wants to stop places he has no business going to. “Wanna take a bet on how lo–”

“Kugisaki, y/n.” 

Speak of the devil.

“Gojo Sensei.”

“Satoru.”

He smirks when you call him by his first name, but doesn’t say anything about it. 

“We’ll be docking within the next 20 minutes. I just wanted to make sure you both were ready to go. I’ll give you the room assignments once we are on solid ground.” 

Nobara stretches her arms above her head and yawns. “I’m gonna go get my stuff. I don’t want anyone else touching it.” And she’s off, waving her hand over her shoulder as she disappears across the deck and down the stairwell.

You step forward, almost to follow her before you’re being stopped by a large hand wrapped around your forearm. He may have his blindfold on, but your eyes are locked on each other. You can feel it. 

“Our rooms are right across from each other. Hope you don’t mind.” Gojo says.

This mother fucker thinks he’s sly. He did it on purpose. 

“You just can’t get enough of me? Can you, Gojo Sensei?” The way you drew out the last two words definitely had the white haired man shifting in front of you. You’re almost certain he shifted uncomfortably because of the way his cock reacted to the words rolling off your tongue. 

“Hm? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He whispers in your ear before walking away. 

Gojo has always had eyes for you. Ever since you joined his little team when you were in high school. Things got more and more progressive the older you got. He’d ask if you wanted extra training, not that you needed it, you were well on your way to being just as strong as he was. You’d notice the way his gaze would linger on your legs a little longer than they should. Only, that damn blindfold always protected him from catching your eyes. But you knew. This time was no different, he was up to something. 

It wasn’t long after your interaction with Gojo that the ship had finally docked. The man himself went over the room assignments but you could hardly focus. Your body was overwhelmed with the urge to take a dip in the bath and your thoughts were crowded with Yuji going on about how hungry he was.  

Once everyone had received their room key, you opted to check to see where Nobara was headed. It was no surprise the girl wanted to shower and do some online shopping while lying in bed. Seems like you were on your own for the night. 

You quickly make your way to your room while Gojo stuck around in the lobby to iron out some details for tomorrow. You were able to unpack and make your way to the bath without any interruptions. 

After rinsing off and soaking for a while, your muscles were nice and relaxed and you felt ready to shower and call it a night. You should have known your night was far from over. 

Upon stepping out of the shower, the bathroom felt much quieter than you’d expected. It was kind of late, and there weren’t many people around, but still. This was abnormal. As you reach for your towel, which had miraculously fallen to the ground outside of your stall, that’s when you hear it. 

A voice you’d recognize anywhere. 

“Oops. I must be in the wrong bathroom.” A playful laugh bubbles from his chest and his shoulders shrug to his ears. 

You move faster to grab your towel, but to him, it's no use. 

“No point in covering up now sweetheart, I’ve already seen all you have to offer.”

That doesn’t change for you. You pick up the towel and tightly wrap it around your body. Water still dripping from your hair, trickling down your legs. You can feel his eyes following each droplet, memorizing the pattern each one leaves across your skin.

“What are you doing in here Gojo?”

He hisses at your tone and the use of his last name.

“Making rounds for the night. And maybe I just wanted to pay an extra special visit to my favorite student.” He pushed himself off of the door he was leaning on and starts walking toward you. “Got a problem with that?”

You open your mouth to respond but you’re cut off with a finger pressed to your lips. His other hand is preoccupied in taking his blindfold off. “I know you don’t have a problem with it. Right?” Time stands still as your eyes meet. You know it's a dangerous game, but neither of you seem to care. His cerulean blue eyes looking deeply into yours. 

You start to shake your head, agreeing that you do, in fact, not have a problem with what is happening. The corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk as he removes his finger from shushing your lips, only to pull you in close by the back of your neck. 

Your lips are mere centimeters apart. Doing everything you can to not to look down at his, trying so hard to stay composed and maintain eye contact. But when Satoru drags his thumb across your jaw and stops on the column of your neck when he feels your pulse thumping under his touch, you crack. 

Your eyes flutter down to his lips, licking your own at how soft his look. Your eyes meet once more before the space between your bodies no longer exists. The kiss is messy, yet calculated. Soft, and hungry at the same time. 

Your focus on holding the towel against your body has become an afterthought when Satoru’s tongue pushes further into your mouth. The damp fabric drops to the flood with a soft thud. The cool air makes your body shiver and Satoru can’t help but smirk against your lips at the feeling of you writhing against him. 

He brings a hand to the back of your head, grabbing a fistfull of your hair with a vice grip. Tugging on it enough to where your head is craning back and you’re looking up at Satoru with lidded eyes. Your lips are still swollen from the way he kissed you. He flashes you a cat-like grin at what a little makeout session and lingering touches does to you. Your expression already dazed and he hasn’t even really started with you yet. 

“Been waiting a long time for this,” he starts. Still holding your hair in one hand while he begins to undo his pants with the other. “Get on your knees for me sweetheart, and hand me your phone.” 

With another tug on your hair, you’re slowly sinking to your knees. His hand lets go of your hair only to push you down further by the crown of your head. Once fully seated on your knees, you reach behind you and grab your phone off the bench next to you. Putting in your passcode and slowly extending it out to Satoru who yanks it from your grasp. 

“Come on y/n, these pants aren’t going to come off on their own, and my cock surely isn’t going to suck itself.”

You bring your hands up to grip his jeans, where the fabric of pants have already been parted at the zipper. Tugging them further down his toned thighs. The outline of is cock is so prominent in how it strains against his boxers. 

Slipping your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you tug them down and let his cock spring free. Slapping his lower abdomen once they're tugged down off of his hips. 

It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. Flushed pink at the tip. Long, the perfect girth to completely fill you up. 

The glob of pre leaking from his slit begging to be cleaned up. Your eyes meet his again as you stroke him, experimentally rolling your wrist and swiping your thumb across the tip. His hips thrust forward, trying to meet your hand again. 

It’s your turn to smirk. The way his lips are parted with a slack jaw, watching you as your tongue pokes out of your mouth. Slowly dragging the flat of it along the underside. All the way up to the tip. You swirl your tongue around his throbbing member while your hand holds him at the base. 

You pull away for a second, collecting the saliva in your mouth before dropping a hot string of it on Satoru’s cock. Rubbing your hand through it to coat him completely before taking him into your mouth. 

Your pace is slow and Satoru doesn’t like it. He wants to know what it feels like to have your throat tighten around him while he hits the back of it repeatedly and roughly. He wants to hear the sounds you’ll make as you can’t help but gag yourself on him. 

So he does just that. His hand on the top of your head moved to the back, pushing you down as far as you could possibly go. He pauses, holding you there for a second to press the record button on your phone. Only when he hears the beep does he let up. 

He lets up just enough to where you can bob your head on your own. His hand stays on the back of your head, not allowing you to pull off of him. Not even for a second. 

“Fuck. If I had known I could get you on your knees this easy… I would’ve done it much sooner.” His words echo through the empty bathroom. 

You whine around his cock and he loves the way it feels around him. 

“You let anyone do this to you? Or just your dear sensei, hm?” His tone is so condescending. But you can’t help the moan that escapes you when he says it. 

“I bet your sweet little teammates would love a chance like this.” and you can’t help but shift uncomfortably at the idea of Megumi or Yuji being here. 

Gojo wasn’t dumb. He knew the way those two looked at you. He knew how their gazes lingered every time you’d walk by them. He knew the things they’d whisper to each other about you. He knew it all, and he knew because he did the exact same. But they don’t have you on your knees. He does.

He thought about staking his claim on you by sending the video of you on your knees with his cock down your throat to Megumi and Yuji, but a better idea came to mind. 

With tears starting to roll down your cheeks, Satoru is typing furiously across your phone screen. The chime of a message being sent makes your eyes go wide but you’re given no time to ask questions. Not when Satoru’s hand is now digging into your roots, pushing you so far down on his cock that your nose is pressed against his pelvis. 

Within a matter of minutes (if that) the door swings open and two pairs of footsteps run inside. Two very familiar sets of footsteps. 

“Y/n!!” 

“Where are you?!”

The sound of their voices now competing with the bubbling laughter coming from Satoru’s chest. 

Your hands come up to Satoru’s thighs. Fingernails digging into the flesh as you try to push him off. But his grip only gets tighter, holding you in place. 

The footsteps come to a halt and Satoru finally lets you up for air. You’re coughing and sputtering as you try to catch your breath. 

“Look so pretty like this. What do you think, boys?” 

“Y/n… what is..” 

You finally look up. 

Megumi and Yuji standing only a few feet away. Your raven haired friend looks shocked and concerned almost. But you're usually, happy, pink haired friend, looks hurt and worried. 

You reach for the towel to cover yourself but Satoru is quick to grab your arms and hold you in place. “What.. what are you two doing here?” You finally speak up. 

“We uh, got your text…” Yuji starts. 

“Yeah, your 911 to meet you here. We got here as fast as we could.” Megumi finishes. 

“But I never…” you stop to look up at Satoru, who cracks a smile and says “Whoops. Guess that might have been me.” 

You lower your head down, not wanting to look at any of them.

“We’re gonna go then…” Yuji says, but the man to blame for all of this is quick to shut that idea down. 

“No, stay. I haven’t even fucked her yet. Can’t have you leave before we get to the good part.” 

Satoru pulls you to your feet and wraps a hand around your throat, holding you steady as he kisses you hungrily. His tongue invades your mouth and he moans at the taste of himself on your lips. 

His other hand snakes between your legs. Slipping his long fingers through your wet folds. Circling around your clit, making your legs buckle underneath you.

“So fuckin’ wet for me. You like having an audience?” He says against your lips. 

You let out a whimper and try to throw your head back but he keeps you in place. Not letting you go anywhere. 

“Take a seat you two.” Satoru says to Megumi and Yuji without breaking eye contact with you. The two of them can’t seem to actually walk away from the sight in front of them, so they obey the order of their sensei and take their seat on the bench a few feet away from you. 

With two of your best friends seated with a good view, Satoru continues his work with you. Nimble fingers still rubbing up and down your wet pussy. He drops his hand from your neck to grope and tug at your breasts. Loving the way the flesh pools between his fingers. 

His lips latch on to the column of your neck, making sure to leave his mark on you. You can feel heat rising across your face as the marks get darker and darker under his mouth. 

He can’t help but smirk into your skin at the whines and pleas that leave your lips. 

“Feels s’good ‘Toru. More. Please… I want more.” 

You reach down to the hand that’s between your legs. Trying to pull him exactly where you want him and he lets out a low chuckle this time. 

“You want more? Such a slut.” He says before taking your nipple into his mouth. Sucking and biting on your perky bud, earning more sweet sounds from you. 

You can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes. There’s too much pleasure coursing through your veins. You almost forget you have an audience until you hear a soft “fuck” fall from someone’s lips, knowing it wasn’t Satoru. 

Opening your eyes, they meet Yuji’s, who’s trying so hard not to palm the painfully hard bulge in his pants. Satoru can feel your body still against him so he pauses. Releasing his hold on you with a soft pop! He takes a second to admire the work he’s done. Smirk growing at each mark he left littering down your neck and across your chest. 

The rest of his clothes are pulled off in an instance before he’s grabbing you by the hips, guiding you to stand and face your two teammates. He takes a seat on the bench himself before pulling you down into his lap. 

“Spread your legs y/n, show them what a perfect pussy you have.” 

You look over your shoulder, eyes meeting Satoru’s again. How could you possibly tell him no. You nod your head and lean back further into his chest. Propping your feet up on his knees, giving the two in front of you a perfect view. 

“That’s it. Touch yourself for me.” He says into your ear. 

Satoru’s right hand is supporting you by holding onto your right breast, continuing to tug at your nipple and roll it between his fingers. His left hand comes up to your face, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him over your shoulder before he brings his lips back to yours. 

As your tongues push against each other you bring your hand down between your legs. Rolling your middle and ring finger over your clit, applying the pressure you know feels good. Bringing your fingers lower to dip inside your drenched hole. Another whine leaves your lips but is eagerly swallowed by the man behind you. 

You try your best to work your fingers deeper inside of you, straining your wrist to get yourself to your high quicker, but you know you won’t be able to reach that spot. Not when you know Satoru’s fingers would reach much deeper than your own. 

You do your best, working your fingers in and out of your pussy. But it’s no use. You stop your fingers and pull your lips away from Satoru’s.

“I need your fingers Satoru.” You bat your eyelashes up at him. 

“What do you think? You two think she deserves it?” He asks the other two boys in the room.

Megumi crosses his arms over his chest, trying to stay composed but can’t help the blush spreading across his cheeks and rising up to his ears. 

Yuji swallows thickly, nodding his head animatedly. His palms are pressed to his crotch as he tries to provide himself with some subtle relief. 

“Fine, but one condition. Neither of you get to touch yourselves if I touch her. Got it?” 

He doesn’t wait for a response before inserting two fingers. Already reaching deeper than you ever could on your own. 

His pace is fast as the pad of his thumb circles around your clit just as quickly. You throw your head back against his shoulder and everything feels much hotter. Your entire body rocking in his lap. He can feel you clenching around his fingers. 

Satoru lifts you up just slightly so he can reposition his cock. Having it rest underneath your ass. He’s pressing his fingers against that sweet spot that no one has ever dared to reach before. Your mouth falls open, a sharp gasp leaves your lips, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. 

“‘Toru, I- I’m close. Don’t stop. Fuck. Please don’t stop.” 

As if he’d ever do anything you say. 

He slows his fingers, causing you to rock your hips against his hand harder. 

“Get up. On your hands and knees, on the bench.” He instructs you. And on wobbly legs, you move. You position yourself so you’re staring both Megumi and Yuji in the eye as Satoru positions himself behind you. 

Yuji can’t take his eyes off of you. Looking at your fucked out expression, the way your tits push against each other as they hang between your arms. Megumi too, he can’t help but look at you and wonder what it would feel like to be the one behind you. 

Satoru takes his cock in hand, running the bulbing tip through your folds. Catching it on your clit a few times, making you jolt forward as he continues to overstimulate your body. He's kneading at the flesh of your ass, tugging and spreading you open for him. Loving the sight of your thighs glistening from the mess he has made of you so far. 

He lines himself up and pushes in. Your walls welcoming him and hugging him so tightly. Sucking him in deeper. Your head drops down in between your arms with your weight supported on your wrists. Letting out a long moan as he bottoms out. 

Satoru’s thrusts are rough. His hips meeting your ass in a repeated motion. His heavy balls slapping against your clit. 

“So fuckin’ good - shit. ‘Ts so tight. Gonna mold you to my cock y/n.”

He punctuates his words with even harsher thrusts than before. He moves one hand to press down on the small of your back as the other grabs your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Wrapping the strands around his fist as he pulls tighter and harder. He pulls you up just enough so his mouth meets your ear. Whispering into it lowly so only you hear what he says. 

“Fuck, Yuji. Feels so good… ‘Gumi, harder please.” you cry out. 

Satoru grins to himself at the expressions plastered across Megumi and Yuji's faces. The two can’t take it anymore. If they don’t get some relief soon, they’re going to cum untouched. Watching you get fucked by their sensei. By your sensei. Hearing their names cry out from your sweet lips. They can't take it anymore. 

Megumi grips his pants at his knees, the flesh of his knuckles turning white and droplets of sweat start to form on his brown. He’s chewing his lip so hard, you think he might break skin. His nostrils flare as he tries not to think about all the things he’d like to do to you. 

“Megumi, please. I need more, nghn!” 

He’s lost it. His hand snakes into his pants. Stroking himself with a tight grip. Amazed at how much he’s already leaking just by watching you and hearing you cry out for him.

“Yuji! Fuck! Right there. Please baby.”

Satoru is thrusting even harder. Slower, but hard, and deep. Keening at the way your walls suck him in even deeper than before. 

Yuji doesn’t wait, pulling his cock out to stroke himself. Locking eyes with you. Imagining you on top of him as he’d thrust into you while you sit on his lap. 

“Best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had. Holy shit. Gonna fill you up y/n, claim you as mine.”

“I wan’ it. Please ‘Toru.” 

He lets go of your hair, only to push your face down into the bench with your ass high in the air. 

“Cum for me first, gotta feel you cum on my cock.”

With a few more deep thrusts and a finger pressed to your clit, that coil inside of you snaps. It’s almost painful because of how pent up your release is. 

Your release is dripping down both your and Satoru’s legs. He’s only got a few more thrusts in him before he’s spilling inside you. Painting your walls white as hot streaks of cum fill you up. 

Just as Gojo cums inside of you, Yuji and Megumi each find their own release. Wanting and wishing that they were the ones filling you up, or painting your backside with their cum instead of having their releases coat their hand and abdomen.

He stills his hips, keeping himself inside of you while your walls continue to flutter around him. He bends down over you, caging you in between strong arms as he moves your hair off of your back. Pushing it to one side as it falls in front of your shoulder. You turn your head to meet him as he kisses you one last time before pulling out. 

“Hope you two enjoyed the show. This is as close as you’re ever going to get. Y/n will always be mine. Remember that, boys.” Satoru says as he picks his clothes up off of the ground. 

Satoru Gojo would fuck you in front of anyone and everyone just to prove a point that he, and only he, will ever have you. 

Without another word, Satoru speaks one last time before heading out of the bathroom. “Clean her up good for me, will ya? And don’t touch her. I’ll know.”

[cjsinkythoughts]

Windows Down, Music Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3730

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Lotsa Fluff, Slight Angst, Talk of PTSD/Flashbacks, No Seatbelts at One Point (WEAR SEATBELTS!)

A/N: The Part I didn’t know I needed. I started writing and this is where it got me. I needed these soft moments after the intensity of the last few parts. I know I said there’d only be one part left, but…I didn’t know this Part would be so long. So three parts for episode 5 it is!

I hope you enjoy this! I know it’s not really a part of the show, but I love the idea and I think both Bucky and the Reader needed it. Plus the show has a lot of leeway this episode because time passes but they kinda skip over traveling and stuff, so I thought I’d give you a glimpse of what it looks like in mine!

Not beta’d, as per usual! All mistakes are mine and please excuse them! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

******************

“So what’s next?” You questioned, your feet hooked onto the bar below the bar you were sitting on so you didn’t fall. Not that you could - Bucky was right next to you, his hand flying to your thigh every time you shifted even a little bit to keep you steady. “Walker’s been arrested, we have the shield, Karli’s in the wind…where does that leave us? Do we have any leads on Karli right now?”

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli, but so far they’ve only found her followers. They’ve searched this camp, and just like the last camp, nothing. She’s gone. And we’ll never find her.”

You huffed at Sam’s words, rubbing your temples as you grumble, “way to look on the bright side.”

“What bright side? There’s not one here, cher. Not this time.”

“Hey.” Bucky snapped. “Back off, Sam.”

You grabbed his forearm and squeezed reassuringly. “Hey! You got your, uh, you got your sleeve back!” You turned at the familiar voice that caused Bucky to scoff lightly and shake his head.

“Torres!”

The kid smiled at you, waving as Bucky pushed off the bars, helping you down (he’d been refusing to let you do anything on your own since you woke up) and started walking towards the door. “Hi, Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam questioned, making Bucky look over his shoulder at the three of you. The former assassin raised an eyebrow at you. You nodded, and he turned around to leave. 

“Alright! Good to know you survived!”

You snickered a bit at the kid. “It’s good to see you.”

Torres turned back to you and grinned. “You too. I really am glad you survived.”

“I know you are, kid.”

Sam looked at you questioningly. “Are you gonna go with him?” You pursed your lips, chewing your cheek, and nodded. “Alright. C’mere.”

You frowned as he lifted his arms, but walked into them anyways. “What’re we doing right now? This isn’t goodbye. We’ve still gotta find Karli.”

“For now.” He responded, setting his chin on your head, careful of your shoulder. “But we don’t have any leads and I’m sure we’ve been benched. So, until we do and we meet again, stay safe. And take care of yourself. And for the love of God, please have that conversation with cyborg, now.”

A small puff of laughter came from you and you nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you later then, Sammy.”

He pressed a kiss to your head, before letting you go. “Later, cher.”

“Bye, Y/N!”

You smiled, waving to Torres. “Bye, kid. Keep out of trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked out the door Bucky disappeared through earlier, turning down the hall to exit the building.

When you got outside, you found Bucky leaning against a wall, narrowed eyes watching the police as they finished the raid. “Do you agree with it?”

“What?”

“These people getting arrested.”

You shrugged, shoving your hands in your pockets. “They harbored a criminal.”

He looked at you with a frown, eyebrows knit together and forehead creased. “We harbored a criminal. We broke him out.”

“Technically he broke himself out.” Your joke fell flat, Bucky’s head dropping. “Buck…” You sighed, eyes following a lady as she was shoved into the back of a car. “No. I don’t. I think these people have been through enough.”

“But?” His eyes grew sad as you met his gaze again, making you smile softly at him.

“But we can’t do anything about it right now. So we need to focus on doing what we can and finding Zemo.”

He nodded, reaching for your hand as he straightened and started walking off. You grabbed his fingers, jogging slightly to fall into sync with his strides. He seemed to notice and slowed down slightly. “We already know where he is, though. Don’t we?”

You hummed, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Where else would he be?”

“Anywhere.”

You shook your head. “No. He’s there. Question is…how are you going to take care of him?”

“Sam thinks I’m gonna kill him.”

His blunt statement made you raise an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Licking his lips, he looked down at you, eyes set with certainty. “No.”

Your lips pulled up at his answer, leaning closer into him, shoulders brushing. “Good. Not that I’m an advocate for never killing people ever…it’s just,” you chewed on your cheek, thinking about the previous day’s events. “Revenge and justice are two different things.”

“Yeah.” He agreed softly. “We kinda witnessed that.”

“Yeah…we did.”

He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulders, tenderly avoiding your wrapped wound. “Good thing I contacted Ayo while you were sleeping then, huh?”

“You did?” You looked up at him with a smile as he nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah. And…I’ve been thinking a lot. Since our conversation about Wakanda and Zemo and Sam. You were right.”

A smirk graced your lips, an eyebrow quirking in amusement. “Pardon me? I don’t think I heard you correctly. What was that?”

He rolled his eyes, reaching over with his free hand to shove your head lightly, making you laugh. “You are such a punk sometimes. I’m serious though, doll. I-I’ve been…I dunno…I haven’t been thinking straight. The whole thing with Zemo was wrong and-and Sam didn’t deserve what I was blaming him for.”

You froze in your steps, tugging him to a stop as well, staring at him thoughtfully. Just since that phone call a couple weeks ago he’d grown so much. You could barely believe what he was saying - that he was finally saying it. He was a stubborn ass sometimes, so to hear him say that? It just stunned you. You knew he was a good person, but this…you felt yourself falling more, which you thought was impossible.

“Doll? Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

Your arms raised around his neck, tugging him down into a hug, your lips pressing to his cheek. “I’m just proud of you.” You murmured softly, kissing his temple. He ducked his head, leaning against your shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You held him like for another minute or two, before kissing his temple again. “We should get going. Gotta get to Sokovia before the Dora do.”

He hummed in agreement, pulling you tighter against him and squeezing you slightly, before letting go. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Question.” You said once you two started walking again.

“Possible answer.” He replied, making you elbow him as he chuckled.

“How’re we gonna get to Sokovia?”

He blinked, tilting his head. “Uh…plane? Unless you wanna have a road trip. The plane would only take a couple hours at most and a car, well…I could have us there in under a day with some broken traffic laws.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Know what? I could go for a road trip right now.”

“Yeah?” He grinned at you.

“Yeah. And yes, you can drive. Just don’t get us in the middle of a high speed chase.”

He winked, kissing your head. “No promises.”

**********************

Bucky was actually a very good road trip partner. He made sure you had plenty of your snacks and let you control the music, turning up the volume for your favorite songs, shouting the lyrics to the heavens as you danced in your seat, the windows rolled down, wind ripping through the car, ruffling both of your clothes and hair.

You grinned over at Bucky, bobbing your head to the beat as he stared back at you, his eyes soft and sparkling. “Watch the road, dork!” He chuckled as you shoved his face.

“I’d much rather watch you.”

You felt yourself heat up despite the cool breeze moving through the car. “Have you ever stuck your head out the sunroof?” You suddenly asked him.

He gave you a weird look. “What?” Feeling a bit mischievous, you smirked and unbuckled. “Woah, woah! What are you doing?! But your seatbelt back on!”

“Oh calm down!” You stood on the seat after opening the sunroof, the top half of your body outside the car. He laughed as you whooped and hollered.

“Alright, alright. Sit back down, doll.” He tugged you back in, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

You smiled, putting your seatbelt back on and plopping your feet on the dash. “Like what?”

He turned to look at you, his teeth pulling his bottom lip between them contemplating. “Carefree. Relaxed, even.”

You shrugged, leaning back in your seat. “I don’t get to do it often. But it’s so hard to care right now.” You gestured out to the gorgeous landscape you were moving through, the sunsetting on the horizon. “The wind, the music, the open road. Nothing feels more like freedom.”

“Yeah…yeah. I guess. I’ve never really…been on a road trip. Unless you count going across Germany in that little blue car-”

“Ha! That was not a road trip! That was Steve being a reckless dumbass driver for a few hours.”

He laughed. You’d heard him laugh before, but this was different. Something about the freedom you were talking about made it different. It was nice. And you’d do anything to hear it more often.

“I’ll take you on a real road trip once this is done.” You vowed. “We’ll hit all the states. Even go through Canada to get to Alaska. Nothing but us in a car for weeks. Wherever we wanna go.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

You winked. “You do that.”

Conversation died after that, the only sounds being you and your music with the occasional chuckle from Bucky at your over dramatic dancing. You made a few stops at gas stations, getting food and drinks, before you felt yourself start winding down as the stars came out, winking down at you. You didn’t even realize you drifted off until the car jostled, waking you up.

“Sorry, sleepyhead.” Bucky apologized. “There was a deer. Maybe if you put your seatbelt on you would’ve stayed asleep.”

You rolled your eyes, rubbing at them and blinking. It was still dark out, no hint of the sun peeking out yet. “They’re uncomfortable.” You grumbled, shifting and wincing at your leg which was still asleep. “What time is it?”

“Almost two.” Bucky answered. “Are you okay? Is your shoulder hurting?”

“No. My leg’s just asleep so it feels weird and it’s aching. You want me to drive so you can sleep?”

“Nah, it’s fine. We’ll be there in a few hours. I’ve got it.” 

You hummed, sitting up and digging through your bag for some food. “Hungry?”

“Uh…I’ll just take a bag of pretzels.” Nodding, you grabbed one of the bags and handed it to him. It was quiet, the radio now turned low on some jazzy station you were sure Bucky turned it to once you fell asleep. “I’ve been thinking-”

“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself.” He shot you a bemused look, making you giggle. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“I’ve been thinking of that fight. With Walker.”

You tensed, clearing your throat as you munch on your snack. “Oh?”

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lick his lips, setting the bag down on the middle console, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “When you were fighting him…why-why’d you hesitate?”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced over at you quickly, forehead creased. “You had the shield. You were holding your own. I’m sure Steve taught you some stuff…but then…” He trailed off, seemingly trying to find words. “It was like that first fight. On the semi trucks. You hesitated. Got distracted. Why?”

You shrugged, turning back to your food nonchalantly. “I guess I just had a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

“I know you better than that, doll. Please don’t lie to me.” Turning to the window, you just noticed that yours wasn’t down anymore. You look over to his side to see his was only a little cracked open. “I didn’t want you to wake up so I rolled them up. Answer the question.”

Letting out a sigh, you shrugged again. “I’ve been having…flashbacks.”

“Flashbacks?”

You nodded, sipping on your water bottle. “Yeah. Kinda like PTSD, but it’s not. Not really. They’re never traumatic or anything.”

You could see the gears in his head turning, his jaw clenching. “What are they about then?”

“Steve.”

The tension in his shoulders slipped, his head ducking while still keeping his eyes on the road. “Oh…why…why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want anyone to worry about me with all the other problems we’re having-”

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped up from where they fell at his sharp tone, his gaze meeting yours. “Don’t ever think that. Ever. You’re not a fucking burden, Y/N. You’re important to me. I-” He cut himself off, shaking his head and looking back out the front. “Does Sam know at least?”

You pursed your lips. “I-I told Sharon?”

He groaned, head falling back against the seat. “Sweetheart…”

“They’re just memories. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is if it’s affecting you on the field. And if it’s gonna get you or someone else hurt-”

Crossing your arms, you shifted in your seat, feeling the ache in your legs from sleeping in that position too long. “What? You don’t trust me now?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying!”

“What’re you saying, Buck? You can’t have me watching your back because my mind’s messed up right now?” The car came to a halt and you sat up, looking around worriedly to see if any cars were coming. “James, we’re in the middle of the street-”

“Look at me.” You turned to him, only to look away at the intensity of his eyes. “Doll. Look at me.” He repeated tenderly, grabbing your chin between his fingers, making you face him. “I trust you.” His tone was nothing but genuine, and you’d never seen him look so sincere. “With my life, I trust you. But if your head isn’t in it? It’s okay, you just need to tell someone. When did you start trusting me?”

“At the airport in Germany.” You answered quietly.

He tilted his head. You kinda missed his long hair - the way it used to get in his eyes and you’d have to brush it behind his ear. “Even though I could still get triggered?”

“Well, yeah. But that’s different! You wouldn’t have been in your right…mind if you were…triggered…”

He raised an eyebrow as you frowned. “Trusting you and trusting your mental state are two different things. I’d know. Sometimes our brain’s do stupid things and we can’t stop it. But we can get help.”

You sighed, hanging your head. “Okay. Alright. I got it. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just…tell me about it.”

You nodded, before looking at the road. “Okay, okay. But can you drive? We’re still in the middle of the road.”

He chuckled and nodded, starting up the car again. After a moment, he glanced at you. “So?”

Another sigh left your lips, before you told him. You told him what’s triggered you so far and what the memories were about. How it feels when you slip. “It’s like, I remember something and my mind latches onto it and won’t let me out until I relive it again.” He just nodded, never interrupting as you explained what was going on.

It felt good to finally get it off your chest. And it felt good knowing he wasn’t freaking out and pulling you from the mission like you thought he’d do. It was something you hadn’t done in a long time. The last person who sat down and listened to your problems was Steve and the fact that you felt comfortable enough around Bucky to pour out your soul made you realize that Steve was gone. But Bucky was here. And maybe it was time to let go.

Bucky looked over to you when you stopped talking abruptly, cocking his head to the side. “Sweetheart? You alright?”

You lunged forwards, hugging his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. Fortunately for you, he had great reflexes, or else you’d probably be wrapped around a tree. You couldn’t care about the what ifs though. Sniffing, you closed your eyes, a couple tears leaking down your cheeks and landing on the skin connecting his shoulder to his neck.

“Thank you.”

It was so soft and muffled by his shirt, you weren’t sure if he heard it. But then he set his cheek on your head, his hand coming up to run through your hair like you did to him when he needed comfort. “C’mere, cuddle bug.” He cradled your head, shifting you easily so you could lay down comfortably, your legs curled in your seat, your head in his lap, taking extra care that your shoulder wasn’t agitated. “Try to get more sleep, doll. We’ll be there soon.”

You nodded, sleep taking over you once more with Bucky’s fingers in your hair, soft jazz still floating through the air along with the slight whistle of the wind from the crack in his window.

****************

You leaned against the hood of the car, crossing your arms, watching Bucky pull on a shirt. You had stopped at a rest stop to clean up and change, just a few more miles until you got to the memorial.

“Ayo’s there already.” Bucky spoke, shrugging on his jacket. You pushed off the hood of the car to pull him closer by the sides of his jacket, your fingers moving to button it. “I just…I want a couple minutes alone with him.”

You nodded. “Okay. I can do that.”

“You trust me right?”

“More than anything.” You confirmed, looking up at him, smoothing his jacket down with your hands.

He nodded, leaning forwards to kiss your forehead. “I just - I just need you to know…I’m not gonna kill him.”

You nodded back, smiling softly at him. “I know.”

“Okay…let’s get going then. Get this over with.”

It didn’t take you long to reach the memorial, only a few more minutes down the main street and then going off down a side road.

Just as Bucky said, the Dora Milaje were already there, waiting for the two of you to show up. Bucky and Ayo had a conversation in Xhosa - which you were really regretting not learning anything more than “hi”, “please”, “thank you”, and “where’s the bathroom?” - before he turned to you.

“Stay with them. Just...I just need a couple minutes.” You nodded, eyes flickering down to the gun he pulled out from his coat pocket. He hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back to him. “Trust me.”

“Sometimes our brains do stupid things.”

He shook his head, kissing your forehead. “Not this time. ‘Cause I have help.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded. He gave you a reassuring smile, before stepping away, out of the trees to face Zemo. You couldn’t hear what was being said, but you had to admit that when Bucky lifted the gun, your heart skipped a beat. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He promised.

The quiet click of the gun seemed to echo, a pressure lifting off your chest as the bullets spilled from Bucky’s hand, clattering against the ground.

You figured that was the signal, considering Ayo led her badass women out to grab Zemo right after the bullets hit the ground, so you followed them out. You stopped next to Bucky, his hand slipping out of his pocket to wrap around your shoulders, tugging you to his side, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“I was listening to your heartbeat. You get nervous for a second, doll?”

You hummed in response to his question in your ear. “I trust you…but that doesn’t mean you don’t raise my anxiety levels.”

He snickered, kissing your temple, before straightening to listen to what Ayo had to say as she stepped towards you. She informed you both that Zemo would be going to the Raft and told Bucky to stay away from Wakanda for a while; both very fair statements that you weren’t surprised to hear. What you were surprised to hear was Bucky’s next sentence.

“I may have another favor to ask of you.”

Ayo raised an eyebrow, signaling for him to go on. Bucky caught your eye and his lips twitched up into a small smirk, before he faced her again and started speaking Xhosa, making you groan.

After their conversation, Ayo nodded. “We will drop it off here tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

You pouted as Ayo turned to walk to their ship, Bucky starting to lead you back to the car. “You’re not gonna tell me what that was about, are you?”

“Nope.”

You huffed. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

He chuckled. “You’ll find out.”

“Soon?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

Bucky shrugged, pulling open the passenger side door for you. “On when Sam wants you to see it.”

You narrowed your eyes, a smile spreading on your face. “You got Sammy a present?”

“Maybe.”

You groaned, sliding into the car before he shut the door, watching him jog to his side. “You’re so annoying.” You spoke once he got in and started the vehicle again.

“If you feel that way, you don’t have to come to Louisiana with me to drop it off.”

Scoffing, you gaped at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shrugged, turning in his seat and putting his hand on the back of your headrest to back out of the spot he parked in. “If I’m so annoying-”

“You’re so dramatic!”

“I thought I was annoying?”

“You’re both!”

He grinned at you, before looking through the windshield, blinking as something occurred to him. “I dunno where we’re going. We have to come back tomorrow morning-”

“Just drive, Buck.”

He blinked at you, eyebrows raising in slight shock. “What?”

You shrugged, nodding your head to the road. “Drive. Wherever we want, remember? Just until tomorrow. We can go back to reality after we pick up Sammy’s gift, but for now-”

“Just drive?” He guessed, the corners of his lips pulling up.

You smirked, shooting him a wink before propping your feet up on the dash again, turning up the radio, and linking your hands behind your head. “Exactly, Buckaroo.”

[wtfevenismypage]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

request: request. i’m not sure if you’re comfortable with writing it but it’s worth a try the team is always teasing spencer saying “he’s definitely a virgin” and he’s like “wtf no i’m not” one day they’re like ok well then y/n can see for herself, y/n is like “😳i didn’t sign up for this” and long story short they come back to the bau and the team is like “ ok soooo?” and y/n is like zoning out mumbling “you were wrong”

Warnings: SMUT (Penetration, oral (female recieving), spanking, over-stimulation, choking, degrading kink)

A/N: YO SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, I am going to start publishing fics again, but updates will be very very slow. They’ll increase eventually, but for now, they are slow. Love you all!

The night began at work. A late night with the team at the office, stacks of files mounted on all of your desks and you’re all gathered around to keep each other awake.

“Ugh. This is too much work. Seriously. Can’t killers ever take a break?”

You whine, spinning in the swivel chair and holding a file in the air. Morgan chuckles, staring at his own file before speaking.

“I need a drink after this.”

“You and me both Morgs.”

“I told you to stop calling me that Girly.”

You chuckle, stopping your spinning and standing up to stretch. It feels nearly impossible to stay awake. Not necessarily because you’re tired, but you’ve been staring at similar files all day and it’s getting boring and tiring.

 “I’ll do refills on coffee. Gimme your mugs.”

You say, letting them pile different sizes of cups and mugs in your arms. You saunter over to the coffee machine and set them on the counter.

You set the pot for a lot of coffee and quickly dash to Hotch’s office, where him and Rossi are.

“Yo, I’m making coffee, y’all need refills?”

They shake their heads and you shrug, returning to the coffee machine and pouring the coffee in the mugs before adding cream and sugar.

“How much sugar tonight Reid?”

You ask, turning to the tall doctor with a smirk. Luckily, you and your team are the only people left in the bullpen so you can be as loud as you want.

“A lot.”

You snort, grabbing the box of sugar and piling it in, almost emptying it before putting it on the shelf and making a few trips to distribute the coffee.

“Here you are Spencer, sugar with some coffee on the side.”

You chuckle, sitting in your chair again and picking a new file up, only to find that this was the last file.

“Oh. Anyone else wanna give me files? I’m on my last one.”

Morgan and Emily immediately run up to you with files, dropping them on your desk and thanking you. It made you laugh, watching smiles grown on their faces.

“Okay team. We’re almost finished. Just a little bit more now.”

-

-

(SEXUAL THEMES BEYOND THIS POINT)

-

-

A few hours later you, Spencer, Rossi, and Hotch are finished with your stacks, waiting for the other three with Penelope, discussing bars to go to.

“Oooo there’s a new one downtown, we should go there.”

“Can you guys hold back your alcohol talk until tonight please? I just wanna get out of here fast and maybe get lucky tonight.”

Emily pleads, making you and the other women go “oooo” while the men groan.

“Oh boy you are right Em. I haven’t gotten laid in so long. Too long.”

You say, leaning back in your chair and looking at a flabbergasted Penelope.

“How long?”

She asks, staring at you in disbelief. You were a very beautiful woman (Don’t you fucking dare say otherwise) so people often assumed you had sex often. You weren’t private about it either. So what if people judged you? Sex is natural and anyone who says otherwise is selling something.

“Since my first time in middle school. I had a delusion that sex was gonna be this amazing thing and then it was actually terrible. I gave up all hope and never slept with anyone ever again. So you know, it is what it is.”

Everyone looked at you in shock, confused as to how you went your whole life without sex.

“Wait really?”

Morgan questions, his attention dropping from the files to you in an instant. Spencer simply stared at you in disbelief, his expression suddenly making you nervous.

“Y-yeah. I haven't had sex since middle school. It isn’t a big deal.”

You defend, but Penelope wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“Oh honey I’m definitely finding you someone to take home.”

“Hey, at least you had your first time, unlike pretty boy over here.”

Morgan teases, messing with Spencer’s hair. Spencer was often teased for being a virgin, but none of you knew what to believe. He said he wasn’t, but refused to tell even Morgan about any of his times.

“How many times do I have to tell you guys, I’m not a virgin!”

“Then tell us about one time.”

Morgan says, a wide smirk on his face at the disheveled state of the genius doctor. Poor Reid just wanted to be left alone but Morgan will not let this go.

“Morgan. Not all of us are public about our sex lives like you bud. Sometimes I wish you were as secretive as Reid. None of us want to hear about how you “got it on”.”

Morgan grimaces, and Spencer looks to you thankfully. 

“C’mon Y/N, you aren’t even a little curious?”

Emily asks from her desk, finally finishing up the last file with JJ. You shrug, playing with your hair briefly.

“Of course I’m super curious, but, unlike you lust goblins, I stand with Hotch and Rossi and don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

Various groans come from the team as you fist-bump Hotch and Rossi, laughing at their defeat.

-

-

-

-

-

When Morgan finally finishes, you all head to the new bar downtown, smiling at the flashing lights of the dance floor and immediately going to a small table with the rest of the team.

“Oh hells yes! This place is already fun!”

Penelope squeals, waving a worker over to get food. Morgan sits next to you, Emily on your other side and Spencer is next to Morgan and Hotch. 

“Alright my baby’s we are partying until Y/N gets lucky!”

You chuckle at Penelope’s words, raising a glass of water to your lips and taking a big swig of it before looking around. The people in there were definitely attractive, but your mind never swayed from a certain genius.

You meant it when you said you were curious, your mind had always wandered to certain images when you went to sleep, constantly imagining what he would be like.

You’re mind was so easily destroyed by him. All of your thoughts contorted by him. To the point where you can’t imagine sleeping with any of these other people, but you’re scared to ruin your friendship with him by trying to sleep with him.

“Ah guys. I’m fine. I don’t want to sleep with someone I don’t know.”

Morgan groans, nudging your side and making you laugh.

-

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A few hours later, Spencer has abandoned ship and went to the bathroom, leaving you alone with the rest of the team as you eat some wings.

“Oh my god I know how to figure out if Reid’s a virgin or not!”

Penelope shouts, you look at her excited face, just smirking as she squeals.

“And what is your plan?”

“One of us hooks up with him!”

You all choke on your food and drinks, staring at her in shock.

“I’m sorry what? Did you just say-”

“Actually that’s not a bad idea.”

Hotch cuts you off. You turn to his smirking face in shock. Never in a million years would you have thought that Aaron Hotchner thought one of you sleeping with Reid is a good idea.

“Hotch! Wouldn’t that like, mess with work or something?”

He shrugs, turning to you and smirking.

“What can I say? I’m curious too.”

You sigh, chuckling a bit and shaking your head.

“I say Y/N does it.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Y/N is single and hasn’t gotten laid in a while, it’s perfect!”

“Guys no I-”

“Oh my god you’re right! Plus there’s plenty of sexual tension between the two of them.”

You sigh, knowing they won’t let up until this happens. When the team wants something, they make it happen.

“Okay guys, I didn’t sign up for this, I’m not your test dummy.”

You say, putting your wings down on the plate in front of you and looking around at them all.

“Please girly? Pretty please?”

Morgan begs, clutching your hand tightly and shaking it up and down like a child who wants a toy.

“Y/N, I will make sure you get a raise in your paycheck.”

You stop and think about it for a second.

It could ruin your relationship with him forever, then again, he’s the type to forgive and forget when it comes to his friends.

And if it did work out, then things could be awkward between the two of you for a long time, or worse, he’d regret it. And like all the things he regrets, he’d ignore you until you disappeared.

And the worst you can think of, you take his virginity. Not someone he loves, not his girlfriend or wife, you. His bestfriend and co-worker. 

But still, just that small percentage that everything might go completely right and you might even get a second time with him makes it feels like it might be worth it.

“Okay fine. But I don’t want a raise. If I’m doing this it’s because I want to.”

They all cheer and you just smile, taking a swig of beer before motioning for Morgan to switch seats with you so that when Spencer comes back he’ll be next to you.

Within a few minutes Spencer returns and you feel a heat travel up your neck as you look at him. He turned to you and smiled, sending shivers up your spine as you smiled back.

“Why’d you switch places?”

He asks, you turn to Morgan for help, pleading him to come up with a fake story.

“Emily kept poking her so she told me to switch.”

He says, you practically glare daggers at him, but you go with it, turning back to Spencer and nodding with a smile.

“Yep, so now, you are stuck with me.”

You joke, trying to ease the dusty pink on your cheeks, and nudge him gently in the arm.

In a few minutes you muster up the courage to let your hand travel off of the counter and onto Spencer’s thigh, feeling your entire face go crimson at the feeling of the hard muscle.

He choked on his water briefly before looking at you, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your red face. You were trying to hide any emotion you felt out of embarrassment. 

He didn’t say anything though, you’re hand felt warm against the cool breeze of the bar, and he wasn’t opposed to your touch whatsoever.

Everyone continued talking and laughing as your hand inched upwards, and you could feel his body tense up every once in a while, and every time he did, you paused, giving him a moment to push your hand away or tell you to stop, but he didn’t. Not even when you began massaging and squeezing the muscle in your hands.

In fact, he at some point grabbed your hand and positioned it right above his own cock. You weren’t touching it yet, just hovering in slight fear.

He wants this.

You thought before slowly lowering your hand, your eyes widening at the feeling of his semi hard and fairly large cock. What the hell were you getting yourself into?

You glance at him quickly, only to find him staring straight back at you with lust lidded eyes. They were intimidating, almost scary. Usually you would have hated to be on the receiving end of this glare, but in this context, it made you feel like a match had been lit inside of you and you were just left there with a lit match inside of you.

The moment you squeezed your hands just slightly, he abruptly stood up, your hand falling from his crotch. Everyone looks at him in shock as he yanks you up.

“I need to talk to you.”

Is all he says before dragging you away. You only had a split second to turn and see the teams faces, but they were all pretty much the same. 

A shit eating smile with wiggling eyebrows.

-

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From the moment you were yanked into the private room with Spencer, you were super nervous. It had been years, you were inexperienced. What if he didn’t like it? What if he left because you were bad at it?

He seemed to notice your panicked state and sat you down on the bed, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this. As much as I would love to prove to you that I really am not a virgin, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But if you say yes, I will pillage your body to the point that you can’t walk next week.”

Well shit, now you were fully convinced and super turned on. You had thought he was vanilla, or maybe even a bottom, but oh wow you were so wrong.

“Do it.”

Those were the only two words needed for Spencer Reid to pounce, and your plane of vision was knocked over, now laying on your back as he traps you under his body. 

His lips are everywhere. They’re on yours at first, but they travel to your jaw, your neck, and his lengthy fingers work at the buttons on your dress shirt rapidly. 

“Shit Spencer...”

You whine out as he works his hands across your body. They feel like fire against your skin. His lips are wet and messy, kissing and marking your neck for the world to see.

You grip his shirt, tugging at it and opening your mouth to speak, but a moan slips out instead. You shut your eyes in embarrassment as you feel his lips curl upwards on your collarbone, the suckling feeling feeling so warm and tingly.

“What is it baby? You want me to take my shirt off? huh?”

You nod eagerly, chest rising and falling quickly as he raises his body off of yours, and you open your heavy eyes to see him strip off his shirt. He isn’t muscly, but he’s perfect, he looks perfect.

“What do you want baby?”

You stumble over your words, your mind already fuzzy somehow by just his lips.

“You. I want you. Please Spencer I want you.”

 You beg, your hands travelling up his torso and feeling his soft skin. He leans down again, towering over you and smashing his lips on your while his hands work on getting your pants off.

His lips were safe, careful. Not aggressive, and his tongue that tasted the inside of your mouth was warm and loving, savoring your taste as you whined into his.

He was smiling so widely against your skin, his pride booming at the way you reacted to his touch. He never once thought he could get you to react like this.

“You just wanted to see if I was a virgin huh? You curious?”

You nod and shake your head, confused on why you were doing this as well. You wanted this so much it almost hurt, you’ve wanted this since day one. You were also really curious as well though.

“You know what they say.”

He leans into your ear, kissing your neck and biting your ear.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

You felt his fingers rub at your clothed pussy, your black cloth panties preventing him from fucking you with his fingers. His fingers rub against your clit, the cotton creating friction on it as well.

 “Please Spencer! Please please please!”

You beg, feeling his breath land on your cold skin in a way that felt so raw and rigid. He tugs at your panties, freeing your cunt as a finger rubs against your clit, the bundle of nerves jolting you up.

A loud moan escapes your lips as he continues circling your clit with his long fingers, His lips kissing your open ones.

Two fingers probe into you, scissoring themselves inside of you. You groan into his mouth as they curl upwards into your wet cunt.

“Shit!”

He moves his head between your thighs, licking a wet stripe up your clit, flicking it around as you moan at the sensitive feeling. It feels like electricity lighting up the sensitive nub.

A pressure builds between your legs, a spring coiling in your stomach as he suckles on your clit, fucking you fast with his fingers.

“Spencer! I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it.”

It hits you like a fiery clap of thunder, the feeling so extreme and hot it almost makes you scream and you can only hope no one heard you over the music outside.

Your breathing is labored as your high dies down, but Spencer doesn’t let up, he flips you over onto your stomach, dragging you to your knees by your hips. 

“Wha-”

You get cut off by your own moan of pain, the tip of his cock slowly being pressed into your tight and wet cunt.

“It’ll get better baby, I’ll go slow, I promise. Just tell me when you want me to go, and when you want me to stop. Okay?”

You nod against the pillow under your face, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. A hand lands on your ass, making you yelp at the rough feeling.

“Words baby.”

You moan, palming the sheets with your fists as he pulls out completely, leaving you to feel empty.

“Okay! Please Spencer! Please I need you!”

You could practically feel his pride rolling off of him as he pushes into your sex slowly, filling you up fully. 

It’s a stinging feeling, as if you were being torn apart. But he waits, he let’s you adjust to his girthy size before moving. He really was gentle. You hadn’t expected him to be rough exactly, but he was shockingly gentle and patient.

Eventually, you got used to the feeling, it felt so satisfying as well. The feeling of being so full and warm was so pleasuring, it sent little jolts of pleasure up your spine and out your mouth, making Spencer smirk.

“You’re so tight for me. You so curious you let me fuck you huh? So eager?”

You nod, burying your face into the pillows. You want him to move, to fuck you until you break, but words won’t come out, so you move your hips forwards, letting part of him slip out of you before moving him back into your dripping cunt.

A loud groan escapes both of your lips at the feeling, his hand lands on your ass again, reddening it before taking the hint and thrusting into you carefully.

“Oh... Holy crap!”

You moan out as he continues to clench your hips, surely leaving bruises tomorrow. His thrusts remained slow and deep, but it felt just right. He let his hands wander, travelling up and down your body.

His fingers find your bra, unclipping it and letting it fall off. Your breasts move to the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Faster... Please Spencer faster!”

“What’s that my little slut? You want more? You gonna be a greedy little slut?”

You could feel your cheeks become a dark crimson color, slightly embarrassed at the degrading language he was using, but you nod nonetheless, wanting him to pound into you shamelessly.

“Very well. What a dirty slut wants, she gets.”

His pace quickens suddenly, each thrust into you sharp and hitting into you just right. Loud moans escape both yours and Spencer’s lips, the room becoming sweaty and sticky quickly.

“This want you want you whore? You just want to be fucked like a cheap whore?”

Pointless babbles fall out of your mouth, quiet “Yes” and “I’m your cheap whore” being mumbled as he pounded into from behind. 

A gasp escapes your lips as he lands another smack to your ass, leaving a burning sensation that felt so damn pleasurable after the initial sting.

A familiar pressure builds up between your thighs again, Your legs trembling under the Thunderous feeling of your orgasm washing over your entire body.

You had thought that two orgasms would have been enough for him, but he doesn’t let up, even flipping you back over and thrusting into you harder. 

“S-Spencer!”

You gasp and squirm as his fingers find your sensitive and swollen clit, pinching and rubbing it with his thumb and index finger. It felt like a wave of nerves jolting every bone, your back arching off of the cushion underneath you.

He continues pounding into you mercilessly, admiring the way your tits bounce at his pace, the way you so desperately panted for mercy, but your body betrayed you.

If you really wanted him to get off of you, you would have made it much more clear, you would have been pushing him off more, but you were more just clutching him closer than anything, wriggling your body around.

You couldn’t form any words at this point, chasing after your third orgasm endlessly. You manage to spot the hand that isn’t abusing your clit snake its way up your body, playing and pinching your nipples briefly before wrapping itself around your neck. 

Soft squeezes are delivered to your throat, making you whimper and whine, your own hands reaching his wrist for support, feeling up the vein-y muscles.

“Spencer! Spencer I’m gonna... I’m gonna cum!”

You whimper out, his hand tightens around your throat and his fingers rub your clit faster and harder, abusing the already raw nerves. 

Everything felt so overwhelming. Your body was shaking aggressively each time he rubbed your swollen nub, and the feeling of him pounding into your wet cunt repeatedly slamming your sweet spot mercilessly and choking you out at the same time was so raw and powerful. 

It felt unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And with a broken moan, you came all over his cock, clenching around him and pushing him over the edge as well. 

He came right inside of you, riding out his high while slowing the rubs delivered to your clit. Your insides were twitching like crazy around his sensitive cock, making him groan while watching your entire body shake.

Soon after you both came, he pulled out, letting his cum drip out of you and onto the bed, pulling your body to sit up.

“Well, did I pass your test?”

You lazily nod at his question. You panted heavily, trying to chase after your breath.

“Holy shit Spencer... That was... Wow.”

He chuckled, grabbing your clothes off of the floor and placing them next to you.

“Need help cleaning up?”

You shook your head, meeting his starstruck eyes for the first time since he choked you. They were so bright, so in awe. 

“Alright, well I’m gonna head home so I don’t have to face the others. See you at work?”

“See ya.”

-

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-

-

Twenty minutes later, Spencer had gone home and you had finished getting all of his cum out of you, and now you were fully dressed, making your way back to the others in a shell shocked state of mind.

Everyone else was trying their hardest not to laugh at the sight of your shaky legs when you stumbled into your chair, red hickies all over your neck. You sat with a blank stare in your eyes, chugging your water.

“So?”

Morgan asked, knowing the answer already but just wanting to hear it anyways.

“You were wrong.”

You managed to mumble out. Everyone broke out laughing, even Hotch and Rossi.

You continued to eat your wings, The memory of what just happened stuck on replay in your brain.

PERMANENT TAGLIST(OPEN) @pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan

[doubleleoenergy]

Cool for the Summer

Even if they judge, fuck it, I'll do the time. I just wanna have some fun with you.

Pairing: parentsbestfriend!Steve Rogers x fem!reader x parentsbestfriend!Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, use of pet names (princess), mommy kink, daddy kink, mentions of alcohol, y/n is 18, slight size kink, threesome.

Words: 2700 (I’m so sorry, I got carried away)

Summary: One pair of drunken kisses turned to much more. Now at the biggest pool party, y/n is ready for a hot girl summer.

Notes: This is my submission for @agentofbarnes​‘s The Agency’s Writing Challenge. I chose to write for dadsbestfriends/momsbestfriend au, secret relationship, and Steve Rogers + Natasha Romanoff. This is the type of sandwich I’d love to be between. I apologize for being such a whore with this.

“Y/N, can you please grab the two bags of ice from the ice chest in the garage? We need to fill up the other coolers before we add the drinks.”

“Yes mom!” Y/N cried out to her mother, tossing a large flamingo floatie into their pool before heading towards the garage. It was their annual Summer pool party, the biggest party of the season for y/n’s parents. Her parents invited all their friends and family, including everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Y/N’s mother and father were both agents with S.H.I.E.L.D. and had been working with the Avengers team closely for years. She remembered visiting the tower when she was nine, a picture of her visit still hanging proudly in her bedroom. It had been years since she personally went to visit, but many of the team members visited her parents often. 

That included her super-secret lovers Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. 

It happened by complete chance last July. Her parents were on a mission for three weeks, leaving y/n alone to take care of their two dogs and to watch over the house. Of course, her parents were nervous to leave their eighteen-year-old daughter home alone for that long, asking many of their colleagues to stop in occasionally to check in on her. The Friday of their second week gone, y/n had gotten wine drunk, having snuck a bottle of her parents' expensive chardonnay from their wine cellar.

She was halfway through the bottle when they came, Steve and Natasha. They found her dancing to some pop song in the living room, her right hand holding up the bottle of wine to her lips. Steve and Natasha had grabbed the bottle from her hand, but not before she kissed them both; Steve first for a rough kiss and Nat last for a soft one.

Y/N didn’t remember anything the next day, but Steve and Nat showed up again to remind her. About 30 minutes after they had explained what happened the night before Y/N ended up with Nat’s head between her thighs and Steve’s cock in her mouth.

They had spent the next week before her parents came home together. Then afterwards, Steve and Nat told y/n that they had to keep what they had a secret, that no one would understand. They had all hung out a few times before y/n went off to college and then a few times during her college years when she was home on break.

The last time y/n saw Nat and Steve was during her Spring Break, two months ago, and she couldn’t wait to see them at the party. She had worn her skimpiest pink striped bikini for the occasion, ready to show off her hot-girl-summer body.

Y/N lifted one bag of ice on each shoulder, carrying it into the backyard and starting to fill the coolers while her father packed them with an assortment of beer, seltzers, soda, and water. “Honey, are you excited to see everyone now that you’re back from summer break?” Her father asked, wiping a few beads of sweat off his brow.

“Yeah, some more than others.” She muttered, shrugging her shoulders. After fixing up the coolers with her father, y/n helped her parents set out the snacks, decorate the backyard, and bring out the large speakers to play music.

It was already one o’clock when guests started to arrive, parking along their circle drive as well as up and down their street. Y/N was instructed by her father to wait by the back gate and greet the guests as they came in, giving each guest a cheap lei that her mom had ordered from Party City. 

Guest after guest, dozens of lei’s later, she spotted them. Nat and Steve drove together, of course, and they looked as striking as always. Nat was dressed in a blood red string bikini top, her cutoff shorts hanging off her hips as she walked. Steve looked incredibly toned in a white t-shirt that clung to his muscles, a pair of red board shorts hugging his thighs to match Nat’s bikini top.

Y/N’s eyes met both their gazes, her figure standing up straighter to accentuate her breasts. Nat and Steve’s eyes trailed up and down her body, Steve’s cock stirring in his shorts.

“Aloha Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff.” She purred; her voice sickly sweet like candy.

“It’s nice to see you again, y/n.” Steve mentioned casually, a large grin spreading across his features. The pair bent forward to receive their lei’s, y/n’s fingers trailing a little longer on each of their neck’s, her nails sending shivers down their spines.

“There’s plenty of drinks and food, and the pool is perfectly chilled. I might take a dip myself.” Y/N gave them a seductive wink before gesturing them in the gate so that she could continue to greet the guests.

Two hours in and the pool party was raging. Y/N’s parents mingled about with the guests, hopping from group to group. As the party continued, Steve and Nat’s eyes followed y/n as she spoke with guests, handed out drinks, and refilled the snacks on the picnic table. They watched the way her ass bounced in her bikini bottoms, how her hips swayed to the music as she danced with a group of friends, and the way her body looked soaking wet as she stepped out of the pool.

She knew what she was doing, trying to rile them up so they’d crack during the party. There were so many guests, what were the chances of anyone even noticing them if they went missing for a while? Y/N needed Steve and Natasha, bad, and she was willing to do whatever it took to get them.

Her body was still dripping wet from the pool, her hair caressing her face. She sauntered across the backyard to one of the coolers, digging her nimble fingers under the ice until she found what she was looking for. Pulling off the wrapper she revealed a red, white, and blue bomb pop, how fitting. Y/N met Steve’s gaze, sashaying her hips back and forth as she stalked towards them.

“Hi Captain, enjoying the view?” She questioned, tilting her head to look up at him. He had about a foot or more on her, making her crane her neck to meet his ocean blue eyes.

“I know I have. What about you, Nat?” He tilted his head to the left, eyes landing on Natasha.

“Definitely. What’cha got there, pretty girl?”

“Just a bomb pop. It’s so hot out, I needed to cool off.” Her lips finally meet the popsicle, engulfing the tip and swirling her tongue around it, a devilish look flashing in her eyes. Natasha clenches her thighs together, thinking of how good it would feel to have the woman’s lips between them.

Y/N teases the popsicle against her lips, pushing it deeper until she gags lightly, her gaze locked with Steve’s own as she does. The same noise she usually made around his cock, he almost pushed her to her knees right then and there. She pulled the popsicle out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the tip.

“You sure you don’t want some?” That was the last straw for Natasha, pulling the stick out of y/n’s hands before tossing the popsicle into the grass beside them. Natasha leans in close, her breath tickling y/n’s ear.

“Go to your room and wait on the bed. Now.” She commanded, pulling away from y/n and changing her expression as to not draw any attention to the throuple. Y/N nodded her head, her own expression flashing with excitement as she moved across the lawn and headed inside her home.

Her bedroom was up on the second floor, away from all the chaos downstairs. Only a few of the guests lingered inside, walking in and out of the first-floor bathroom, some leaning against the kitchen counter in conversation.

Y/N slipped silently up the steps, tiptoeing to her bedroom and shutting the door behind her. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, stealing a quick glance at herself in the mirror. Her hair was slightly wild from her dip in the pool, her body glistening with a mix of sweat and pool water. Y/N walked over to the bed, her head resting against a pillow, her legs bent and open, waiting for her lovers to arrive.

Steve and Natasha made their way into the house ten minutes later, conversing politely with the few guests who still lingered inside, waiting until they walked out towards the rest of the attendees before making their way up the wooden staircase. Steve is the first to make it to the door, opening it and smiling at the sight of y/n splayed out before them.

“My my, princess. You sure know how to rile us both up. Couldn’t even behave until the end of the party you’re that desperate?” Steve tosses his shirt to the floor after Nat shuts and locks the door behind them, the redhead following suit as she started to undress as well.

“She just loves to tease, but she’ll pay for it now.” Nat stalked over to the bed, getting on her knees beside the edge and gesturing y/n with her fingers to join her. Steve stepped out of his board shorts last, his thick cock bouncing against his chest as he moved over to where Natasha was kneeling beside the bed, y/n getting on her knees beside her, still dressed in her bikini.

“Nat, baby, how about you help our princess undress while she keeps her mouth busy on my cock.” He commanded, stroking his length in his right hand. Natasha nodded her head, moving behind y/n and pulling at the string of her bikini top, letting it unravel and slide forward off her chest. 

Steve stepped forward, his cock slapping gently against y/n’s cheek. “Go on princess.” Y/N swallows thickly, the size of his cock always surprising her, no matter how many times she saw it. Her hand reached up to stroke his length, her tongue swirling around the tip, eliciting a groan from Steve’s lips.

Natasha busied herself by reaching over y/n’s back to knead and pinch at her perky breasts, y/n’s eyes fluttering shut as she took Steve’s cock into her mouth, her hand moving down to fondle with his balls. She bobbed her head back and forth, grinding her still clothed core against her carpet.

“Aw Steve look, our princess is getting needy.” Nat took a fistful of y/n’s hair into her hand, ripping her off Steve’s cock and tilting her back to make eye contact with her. “You know what to do, a pretty princess like you has to ask for what she wants.”

Y/N whined, bucking her hips up to draw attention to her bikini bottoms. “Please mommy, please touch my pussy.”

Nat hummed in response, releasing her hand from y/n’s hair, pushing her in the direction towards Steve’s cock once again. Y/N wastes no time, opening her mouth and looking up at Steve, her long eyelashes batting coyly. “Daddy, will you fuck my mouth while mommy plays with my pussy?” She asked sweetly.

Steve almost came immediately from her statement, his thumb sweeping lovingly across her lips before his hand moved to grip at her hair, looping it around his hand to lock her in place before sliding her mouth forward and back onto his cock.

Steve started to fuck her face slowly while Natasha moved her hand down to undo the strings of y/n’s bottoms, pulling them out from underneath her before she tossed them across the room. Her hands caress y/n’s hips as Steve moves in and out of her mouth, faster this time. Y/N’s saliva dripped from her mouth and onto the carpet as Natasha snaked her hand down to y/n’s folds, her fingers immediately covered in her slick.

Nat dipped one of her perfectly manicured fingers into her heat, y/n humming around Steve’s cock in response. She continued to work her finger in and out before adding another finger, Natasha’s lips trailing wet kisses down her neck.

“So wet, princess. You want your daddy to fuck your tight cunt?” Nat purred, adding a third finger into her soaking hole. Y/N couldn’t answer, her mouth stuffed full of Steve’s cock, her nose touching his pelvic bone. He held her down, y/n sputtering as tears welled in her eyes, watching her face turn red before he pulled her off abruptly, her body collapsing back against Natasha’s.

Y/N gasped for air, her saliva dripping from her mouth down her chin and bare breasts. Natasha’s fingers sped up inside y/n, her orgasm building fast. “Mommy, may I cum please?” She mewled, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

“Yes princess, cum now. Daddy’s waiting to fuck you.” Her orgasm ripped through her, her walls tightening around Natasha’s fingers as she fucked her through the pleasure. Slowly, her breathing slowed down again, and Natasha removed her fingers from her core. Nat opened her pouty lips, licking y/n’s slick off her fingers happily. “You taste so good, our pretty girl. Now I want you to get on the bed on all fours for daddy.”

Y/N followed the instructions, crawling up onto the bed and getting on her hands and knees, arching her back and sticking up her plump ass. Steve’s hand was soft against her ass cheek, fondling it in his hand as he rubbed his cock against her folds with his other hand. He braced one hand against her back, sliding his cock in slowly, savoring the feeling of her tight cunt swallowing him.

“Always so tight, princess. The prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. Isn’t that right, mommy?” Steve moved his cock slowly back out of her pussy before slamming in fast, causing y/n to fall forward as she cried out in pleasure.

“It is the prettiest.” Nat agreed, moving onto the bed until her thighs opened, her pussy on full display. She scooted her body until her thighs were on either side of y/n’s head, gripping her chin and pulling her head up to look at her. “Put that pretty mouth to use and make mommy cum.” She instructed, y/n’s tongue sticking out to lick a strip up to Natasha’s clit.

Natasha rested her weight on her elbows, watching y/n swirl her tongue around her clit, moaning at the sight. Steve continued to fuck into y/n, pushing her face deeper into Natasha’s pussy. His cock rocked fast into her, y/n humming with her face against Nat’s cunt.

“That’s it, princess. Let daddy fuck you into mommy’s pussy. You keep that up and you’re going to make me cum on your pretty tongue.” Natasha’s eyes met Steve. “You look so good daddy, so hot when you’re fucking our princess.”

Steve’s breathing was ragged, his hips slapping rapidly against y/n. “Cum on her tongue, mommy. Give our princess your sweet nectar.” Natasha bucked her pussy against her face, hitting her orgasm as y/n licked up all of Nat’s juices that flowed from her. Y/N continued to lap at Natasha, working her through her orgasm as she came on Steve’s cock, her walls clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, make a mess on daddy’s cock. Gonna fill this pussy up princess, you deserve it for how happy you made mommy.” Steve thrust twice more before his hips stilled against her ass, groaning as he coated her walls with his cum. He stayed glued to her, pressing soft kisses to her spine as he relaxed his body, finally pulling out of her. His cock was wet with y/n’s cum, her pussy dripping their mixed cum onto the sheets.

“Did so good princess, let’s let mommy clean this up.” On cue, Natasha moved to take Steve’s place behind her, licking at her cunt to indulge in their mixed juices. Y/N’s body relaxed into the bed, letting Natasha clean her up.

Eventually, Natasha finished licking, pulling off to collapse next to y/n, her body spent as well from their escapades. Steve moved beside y/n, laying his head back against the pillow. 

“My beautiful girls, I love you both so much. Best pool party I’ve ever attended.”