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soaringeag1e · 7 months

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Escape {67}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Threats, Guns, Blood, Injuries, Lots of Angst

Words: 3,578

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

First of all, sorry this is so late. Second, I'm missing a few chapters on the Escape Masterlist, but if you're behind more than those few, you should be able to find them on my page if you scroll down. There shouldn't be much in the way of finding them.

Enjoy guys! Happy Saturday!

Squad cars surrounded the house. Flashing lights just spinning in circles and lighting up the neighborhood while officers searched Cassidy’s residents. Bobby was out front with a team, looking over a map and trying to think of where they should look next.

They went through evidence and any clues that they could come up with that might help find where he was hiding, but they continued to come up with nothing.

There was one lead that they had a team looking into, but they haven’t heard back from that unit yet. Bobby had sent a few officers out to the house that Paul and, to whom they know now as Cassidy kept their victims and he was anxiously waiting to hear from them.

“I can’t get a hold of Dean.” Styles stressed, hanging up the phone for what felt like the hundredth time. “I texted Sam to see if he could go check on them, but…” When Styles sighs, Bobby looks up. “I don’t have a good feeling, Bobby.”

“Me neither.” Hoping that he would already have an answer, Styles looks down at his phone, but of course there’s nothing yet. “Alright, let's see what we can do.” As Bobby crosses off a few spots on the map, his radio goes off, getting the attention of every officer standing by.

“Captain?”

“I’m here. What do you got?”

“Well, the house is empty. Doesn’t look like anyone has been here for a while. But, we got a call from someone claiming they heard gunshots not too far up the road from here, so we’re going to go check it out.”

“Gunshots? What direction?” Frantic, Bobby looks over the map to find where the house was located.

“Just a few miles East.” Bobby slides his finger along the road, looking to see if anything shows up on the map that could look like something.

“It looks like it’s all farmland. But there might be a residence up that way. Check it out, watch your backs.”

“You got it” By the time the team clicked off, Bobby looked up to see that Styles was looking at his phone again, his thumb clicking on the screen every now and again.

“I don’t think you’ll hear back from Sam for at least another fifteen minutes.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Looking confused, Bobby listens to his detective. “I’m looking into the land up that way. We know that serials not only like to take trophies, but they also like to feel safe. Comfortable.”

“Right.” Bobby agrees, still a little confused.

“I’m trying to see if there’s anything up that way that could be connected to Cassidy.” Bobby’s a little frustrated that he didn’t think of that earlier, but he was grateful that he had a team heading that way and that he had someone with a brain looking into it.

“The land belonged to the Vanderbelts for decades…” Styles shakes his head, hating that it didn’t sound like it was connected to their guy.

“Wait! Vanderbelt?” At Bobby’s excitement though, it gives him some hope.

“Yeah.”

“That was Cassidy’s wifes maiden name. That land must have belonged to her family.” Their eyes said it all and they knew they needed to move. “Alright! I need you, you and you to stay here in case he comes back! The rest of you, follow us!”

The first set of officers came upon the scene, seeing flames coming from the old abandoned barn. They got on their radios and called in for a fire team right away all while Bobby, Styles and the other officers that followed heard what was going on through the radio communications.

“Anyone seem to be there?” Bobby asks, the radio letting out a bit of static as he gets off the line. Styles stares ahead, wanting to get there as fast as he can because he just knew in his gut that something was wrong and he wanted to find out what it was before it was too late.

“I’m not sure. I’m approaching the entrance now. Hold on.” The seconds between that and the next call out was torture. It was so quiet in Eddie’s car, he didn’t even have the radio on. He kept looking from the road to the clock on his dash, minutes just kept ticking by and he didn’t understand why they weren’t coming back. Was Cassidy still there? Were they hurt? So many questions ran through his head.

It wasn’t until about five long minutes later that static picked up on the radio and Rocky, the main officer's voice came through, finally.

“We need immediate medical assistance! Officer down! I repeat, officer down! Requesting air support!” Styles stumbled with the radio, trying to lift it from the holder in a frenzy.

“Rocky! Who is it!?” he lets go of the button for a second to readjust the device in his hand. “Is it Winchester!?” Again, some silence goes by, making Styles want to scream, but then the confirmation comes through.

“Affirmative! Detective Winchester is clear of the building but is in serious condition! We need to….” At the sudden cutoff, Styles begins to panic.

“Rocky!?”

“Rocky? What’s going on?” Bobby then chimes in and Styles holds his breath.

“Sorry. Winchester says that Cassidy took off. Not sure which direction he went though.”

“Does he have his car!?” Styles is praying that the answer is yes knowing that he can trace the squad car.

“No. Winchester is shaking his head. He…he’s not doing good though, guys.”

“Air support is on the way. Tell him to hold on.” Bobby was always someone that held himself together, but for the first time ever, Styles heard emotion in his voice. “What type of injuries are we looking at?”

“Uh…Three GSW’s, two to the chest and one to the thigh. It looks like he has a nasty laceration on his head too.” Styles instantly feels sick. Seeing him shot in the shoulder was enough, but this…this was so much worse.

“Is Captain Singer on this line?” A new voice comes through, getting everyone confused on what was going on now.

“I’m here. What is it?”

“Well, I know one of your detectives has a pretty distinct car, just wanted to check with you and see if you knew where he was tonight. You know, the one who owns the Impala?” All their hearts stop in that second.

“What about him?”

“Well, I just pulled one over for running a red light. License plate, Kilo, Alpha, Zulu, Two, Yankee, Five. But it didn’t look like your guy, so…thought I’d check.”

“That’s his plate, Bobby!” Styles screams into the radio, the anger he’s feeling because of this entire situation making it hard to keep his officer mindset. This was personal and he was going to make sure he finished this. “Where was he headed!?”

“Well, when I let him go he was heading south on Gilpin, just off of Blackwood.”

“Thank you, officer.” Bobby sends through, hoping that the officer will switch channels.

“No problem.”

“I’m going after him, Bobby.” Styles puts through, practically an order as he was more than ready to flip his car in the other direction whether Bobby was okay with it or not. It’s only silent for a few beats before the Captain clicks on.

“Okay. I need two other units to go with him. Don’t care who.”

“You got it, boss.” One patrol unit confirmed and seconds later, another. Styles slowed down and then turned back to see if he could cut off Cassidy from another direction, the two other patrol cars mirroring his movements and keeping up with no issues.

Bobby’s tires spat up the dirt as he pulled up to the barn. He barely got the patrol car in park when he was jumping out of his seat and rushing over to where the EMT’s were hovered.

“Dean!” As he gets closer, he starts pushing people out of his way. “Move! Move! Dean!?” They had him on a stretcher and were just about to lift him and move him to the helicopter a couple yards away, so he made it just in time. “Oh, son…” Dean opens his mouth to speak, but only gurgled whispers come out. Yet he doesn’t quit until Bobby catches at least one word.

“Y/N?” The detective nods, grateful that he understood. “Where is she?” When Dean’s eyes close, Bobby takes the hint. “She’s with him?” That’s when Dean opens his eyes again, tears pooling quickly and overflowing without a sound being made. “Okay. Well, Styles is on his way to cut him off. He’ll get her, alright?” There does seem to be a relief that washes over the man, but it’s not enough to heal him unfortunately.

“We need to get him out of here.”

“Right. Yes, go ahead.” The paramedics lift the stretcher then, but before they can wheel him away, Dean reaches out and grabs Bobby’s arm and in return he places his hand over his. “We’ll get him.” he tells him, squeezing his hand. “I promise.” More tears slipped from Dean’s eyes, the salty liquid mixing with the blood stains on his face.

While Bobby watches them load up his non-blood related son, he gets on his radio and calls out for Styles, wondering if he found Cassidy or not.

Thankfully, luck seems to be on their side.

“It’s over, Cassidy! Drop the knife!” You shook in his arms, the knife to your throat even pinching your neck a bit. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had nicked some skin at this point. “You’re surrounded and we’re not letting you leave here unless you’re in one of these patrol cars, so you mine as well give it up.”

“Man, you and Dean are so optimistic. But I can tell you right now that that isn’t happening.”

Styles knew right then and there that Cassidy wasn't going to give in. He might not make it out of this alive, but he sure as hell will take as many of them out along with him and his first priority? Y/N. He knew that no matter what happened in the next few minutes, he had to protect you at all costs. For Dean.

Without drawing too much attention to himself, Styles glances at the officers to his right. They’re just out of sight for Cassidy and they may have the advantage of getting the drop on him without you getting caught in the crossfire. But he forgot how good Cassidy really was.

Seeing this, Cassidy’s eyes sneak a peek to his left, but they don’t waste too much time on looking for the threats. He’s as quick as a cat. With you still in his hold, he drops the knife and whips out Dean’s gun, sending off two shots and taking down the two officers advancing on him. In that time, Styles sends off a shot of his own but Cassidy drops to his knees, tearing you down with him.

But at least that worked to their advantage. With that motion, you were able to get free. Knowing it wasn’t safe to be within shooting range of Cassidy, you took off towards the woods just off the road. It wasn’t the first time you’ve had to run for your life, so it wasn’t a hard decision to make.

In retaliation, Cassidy sent a shot off towards Styles before turning and shooting the remaining two officers with him and then he took off into the trees after you.

Grateful, Styles was able to dodge the bullet that went flying at him and when he realized that, he too took off into the tree line, hoping that he could find you before Cassidy did.

You had heard the other shots go off when you took off running. At first you were afraid that those bullets were meant for you, but when you heard boots shuffling through the brush behind you, the more you started thinking the worst.

The thought of all those officers, including Eddie, dying because they were there to save you caused you to choke up as you made your way through the trees. You only made it a few more feet in when you had to stop. Between the running and your emotions heightening, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Finding a large tree, you leaned up against it, peeking around the trunk and trying to listen for any movement around you. When everything seemed to be clear, you rested back against the bark, taking calming breaths as best as you could.

Your eyes dropped to the handcuffs locking your wrists together and the pessimist in you seemed to seep out. Dark thoughts instantly clouded your thoughts and your emotions rose even more.

You thought about how you were stuck out here with Cassidy. Dean was gone, and if not, he was probably going to be soon because Cassidy was a good shot. For all you knew, Eddie and the other officers were laying out in the road, bleeding to death and if there was another unit coming, the odds of them making it to you before Cassidy does was very slim.

You were screwed.

Tears fell to the ground below you, your hands shaking as you let yourself break down. The heaviness of the situation was crippling and you were terrified that you weren’t going to make it out of this.

The thought of losing Dean was the worst of all. You couldn’t stop picturing him on the ground, bleeding everywhere as you were pulled away from him. But the more you stood there and thought about him, the more you were reminded that he wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want you crying over him when your own life was still on the line. You could even picture him there in front of you, trying to get you to move your ass. Sweet but firm, of course.

For how much your subconscious fought back and told him to shove it, you knew you needed to stop. You needed to get out of this and if anyone was capable of doing that, it would be you. You escaped hell once before, who's to say you can’t do it again?

Taking another moment for yourself, you looked down at the ring on your finger, letting a few more quiet sobs shake you before lifting your hands and kissing the object that connected you and Dean. Then, cautiously, you peeked around the trunk again. You couldn’t hear anything but that meant nothing with this guy. He was good and you had to remember that.

Taking a chance, you slowly made your way further into the trees, keeping your eyes peeled and your ears on full alert. You were terrified. You were trembling, but you knew you needed to keep going.

After making it a few more feet, you heard a twig snap somewhere behind you. Out of reflex, you spun around, your eyes darting all over the place as you tried to find what made the noise. But there was nothing. Of course you knew better, but you couldn’t see anything which only made you more scared.

Carefully, you kept moving. Slow but steady as you tried to make it to the next huge tree so that you could get some cover again.

You were only a few feet away when you were swept off your feet, a hand going over your mouth as you were flying forward. Just as you were shoved up against a tree trunk, you started flailing your arms, trying to hit anywhere and everywhere you could, refusing to be taken prisoner again. Heavy breathing and panicked noises were kept muffled by the man in front of you and it wasn’t until he was able to pin your arms against your chest that your eyes widened.

“Shhh.” Getting you to calm down a little, Eddie then peered around the tree, hoping he was covered enough to keep himself safe but exposed enough to where he could spot Cassidy. But just like you, he sees nothing. “Okay. When I say so, we’re going to head that way.” he nods to his right. “Try to keep low and stay close to me. Alright?” You nod against his hand and he finally peels it away from your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” you answer as quietly as you can, tears still falling from your eyes. “Dean.” you choke. “He…”

“He’s getting help.” Your eyes widen, your breathing becoming shaky again from the shock.

“He’s….”

“For now.” Hearing that, a sob slips from your lips and Eddie pulls you close, whispering ‘I know’ into your hair. “But we need to get you out of here, alright?” You nod frantically, wanting nothing more than to get out of there and get to Dean. “Alright…” he peeks around the tree once again, his eyes sharp before he pushes you a bit to get you moving.

Like Eddie, you keep an eye out still, looking for any movement and listening for any sound, but thankfully it seems to be clear for now. You followed his orders, keeping low and making sure he was right behind you the entire time. If anything, it brought you comfort to have him so close.

But for what happened next, it only reminded you of how much better at this Eddie was than you.

“Y/N!” His loud voice caused you to flinch forward, but the sound of a gun going off made you collapse onto the ground. You fell face first into the dirt and when the shock wore off, you frantically felt yourself up, wondering if you were shot.

Grateful that you didn’t feel anything, bullet hole or blood, you flipped over onto your back, keeping close to the ground since you knew now that Cassidy was close. You looked into the distance, still not seeing anything and it honestly pissed you off that he was this good. But it’s when you look to your feet, to where Eddie should be right behind you when your panic comes back.

“Eddie?” you cry out in a shaky voice, but he doesn’t move. “Eddie?” you call out again, just a little louder this time. When you hear a low moan you scramble to his side, not caring if you’re seen.

Once you’re over him, you see that he’s in pain and that’s when you look down to his chest. Blood was starting to soak into the side of his shirt telling you he was hit.

“Eddie.” you cry, trying to keep yourself together, but you just couldn’t do it. “Hang on, please? Please.” you melt a bit more, your hand pushing on his wound to help stop the bleeding.

“Well, well, well.” Hearing Cassidy makes you freeze, but you don’t move from your position. You refuse to let go of Eddie. “This wasn’t my plan but I guess it’ll have to do.” You finally look over your shoulder to see him standing over you both, the gun pointing in your direction. But you can tell by the angle that he’s pointing it at Eddie. A kill shot for sure, right to his head.

Taking Eddie’s hand, despite how weak he may feel, you place it on his wound and tell him to press down as much as he can and that’s when you turn around and block the bullet's path to its indicated victim. Cassidy of course gets that smug smirk and to your surprise, that’s when he shifts the barrel, the kill shot now intended for you.

“Seems my plan has already been fucked, so I guess there’s no reason to keep you around any longer.” he states as he gets a better grip on the gun. “Say hi to Dean for me.” Your entire body shakes, your fear of death front and center as he starts to pull the trigger back.

“Drop the gun, Cassidy!”

“Drop it!” Multiple people start screaming at the man to drop his weapon and you take a second to look around. The three of you are surrounded by officers and you even spot Bobby in the crowd.

“Now, Cassidy! Drop it!” He clearly doesn’t want to follow orders, not that you expected him to. You figured that he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

You have no idea where it came from or why, but somehow in that moment, surrounded by all of Dean’s fellow officers, you got up the courage to stand up to Cassidy. Getting up from your knees, you stood right in front of him, holding your head high as you challenged him to shoot you without saying a word.

“Cassidy! Now! Drop the gun!”

“Drop it, Cassidy!”

“Drop it!”

While everyone around you yelled at him to surrender, you just kept your eyes locked with his, your gaze hard and unwavering. Then, as some more time passed without any movement on his part, you closed your eyes, practically giving yourself up to him.

You don’t know what had calmed you so much, but you were suddenly unafraid. You were expecting him to shoot and you were waiting to hear the echo of the shot before peace took you over. But all you kept hearing was the officers screaming at him to drop the gun.

For a brief second you could hear Eddie behind you, calling out for you to move. But before you could react to him, it happened.

The gun went off.

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wolfofansbach · 9 months

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Personal thoughts and meditations upon the occasion of the Riverdale series finale.

Probably like four people are going to read this but I feel compelled to write it out anyway. This show has genuinely been a massive part of my life. I watched the first episode because some high school friends encouraged me to (IRONICALLY, BRO). I was in high school when I started this show. Those friends of course long ago fell away, unable to continue, unable to wacth anymore, but I have kept the faith. All seven seasons. Every. Single. Episode.

I’m not even entirely sure what captivated me so much about the show. I loved the atmosphere of season 1. I genuinely wanted to find out who killed Jason Blossom. Was genuinely fucked up by episode 1 x 12 and the first season finale.

I have such fond memories of watching the first season. I distinctly remember a road-trip I Tok with my friends the summer of 2017, and joking about maple syrup drug empires and the “weirdo” line back when that was the wildest scene on the show. Joking about how sick of the song ‘Believer’ by Imagine Dragons (2017) we were.

And then I decided to get involved in a fandom for the first time in a couple of years, and so I revived my old Tumblr, and I began Posting. And reading posts.

That was my last summer after high school and I was so nervous about college but this show and this fandom helped me get through it. My freshman year I lived in a dorm, and if you wanted to watch TV you had to go down to this common room, so every Thursday I would go down there like an hour ahead of time and occupy the place to make sure the remote was in my hands by 7 PM. A few times I failed, and I missed an episode because of it. But rarely!

I remember that slowly dawning feeling as season 2 progressed. Scrolling my Tumblr feed and slowly seeing people come to the realization: “wait…is it just me or does this show actually suck.” Was kind of frustrating at the time, realizing that the writers just like…were bad, but in retrospect? Beautiful. Incredible. Legendary.

And you could even say that’s where the fun really began. Yes, there’s plenty to hate, but also Riverdale is brilliant. The show of all time. For real. No other show has done it like Riverdale. They just haven't, and they never will. The age of the cable television teen drama is ending, and what a hell of a last hurrah Riverdale has been.

The Red Circle. Jingle Jangle. The Gargoyle King. Edgar Evernever and his fantastic rocket. Bret Weston Wallis and Donna Sweett (genuinely cannot say their names without giggling). Jughead getting hit in the head with a rock and faking his death for like…some reason? I genuinely can’t remember, something to do with the Hardy Brothers idk. Tabitha sprinkling the devil with the tears of the Virgin Mary. The normies can laugh all they want about “epic highs and lows” but do they remember the even funnier lines like “if there’s no wedding, that means the gargoyle king has won” or “word of my exploits serving Nick his comeuppance…” THEY NEVER WILL. ONLY THE TRUE FAITHFUL UNDERSTAND.

And is silly as it all was, I have genuine affection for these characters. Like Betty, Veronica, Jughead, Archie, Cheryl, Toni, actually mean a lot to me. YES they’re fake but I want the best for them (and for Beronica to be canon but you know we can’t win them all). I’m genuinely grateful that this show has existed and been a part of my life for the past six years.

Moreover, I credit this show for seriously getting into writing. I’ve actually written almost a million words of Riverdale fanfiction. Much of it will never see the light of day, but it exists. Maybe I even have one or two left in me, I don’t know. At the very least I’d like to finish a few uncompleted fics. But I’ve also branched out. Since I started seriously writing in 2017, I’ve also finished several original manuscripts, and who knows, maybe one day I’ll get one published. Stranger things have happened.

So, thanks Roberto.

And thanks to all of the very cool people I’ve run into in this fandom. I honestly wish I’d gotten to know most of you better, but them’s the breaks. Hopefully this isn’t weird but I’m going to tag a few people in particular.

@village-skeptic. I know you’re not in the fandom anymore (lucky you), but thank you for, once upon a time, reading every one of the 200,000+ words of a 17-year-old kid’s turgid, indulgent, Riverdale Spanish Civil War fan fiction. I never, ever would have finished that story without you, and I credit it with giving me the confidence to keep writing, and in fact to write everything I’ve written since then. You’re brilliant and awesome.

@satelliteinasupernova. Thank you for also reading Interbellum (are we noticing a pattern), and more importantly for all of your wonderful drawings. INCLUDING fanart of some of my fics. You have no idea how happy that Strange Death of Elizabeth Cooper piece made me. You rule.

@sullypants. You were a perennial presence on my feed. Always wonderful to see. I love your taste in art, and I love those ‘penguin classics’ covers you made for a few of my fics. Thank you also for beta reading a few fics for me back in the glory days. And thank you for chatting with me a couple times over the years, including a few times when I was in quite unhappy places.

@stillhidden. I’m not sure if we’ve ever actually talked, but you like or reblog everything I post and it makes me feel like I’m not just shouting into the void. Same goes for @frauleinfunf Thank God for dutiful mutuals.

@sonyascomet. I can’t remember when I started following you but you have a really good sense of humor. And I’ll always remember when you kept posting about “Greg” for Succession and I, not knowing anything about Succession, kept imagining Greg Heffley.

@stillhidden thank you for your world-weary Riverdale posts. You truly understand fandom like few others.

@halcooper. Your devotion to the neglected parents of Riverdale is truly admirable. Every time I see Lochlyn Munro in some weird low budget horror movie I’ll think of you.

I hope I didn’t forget anyone who would be offended by my forgetting, but I doubt it.

All this to say this show has been a genuinely huge part of my life for six years. SIX YEARS. I graduated college, my God. I wish I could say I became a millionaire or a successful author in that time, but nah. Maybe one day, but for now I’m just kind of vibing. And unfortunately, I’ll have to vibe without Riverdale from now on.

But as I sit myself down to watch the very last episode of this show, I remind myself that we’ll always have the memories. And I’ll always be an unapologetic Riverdale enjoyer. As a great man once said, snakes don’t shed their skins so easily.

#riverdale #im getting sentimental #my god

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urfavstargirl1 · 2 years

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Show Me What You've Got - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 3 to the series Chemistry, Part 2

stranger things masterlist | Spotify playlist link

summary: It's Y/N and Eddie's last night working on their assignment. After a bad day at school, the two end up studying at Eddie's place. By the end of the night, the two finish their assignment, guitar playing from Y/N and Eddie ensue, heart's are opened, and Y/N's gives Eddie a surprise goodbye.

cw: yearning, angst, fluff, era-appropriate racism/sexism (optional latina!reader insert w/ minor references), hurt/comfort, shy/nerdy!reader, pre-ST4, cocky!Eddie, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, swearing

a/n: theres many so here goes:

1. This was meant to be a filler chapter but ended up being the longest one I've ever written lmao so buckle up because a lot happens 2. I realize it's highly improbable a student like Eddie and a straight A student like Y/N would be in the same class or in a chemistry class for their senior year, but for the sake of this story, let’s ~pretend~. 3. Also for any of my astrology baddies, I'm big time convinced Eddie has a pisces placement. I’m thinking maybe sagittarius sun pisces moon and Y/N is very much influenced by me and my virgo moon so i feel like this chapter (this whole series) really exemplifies that opposition/synastry lol. 4. get ready for hella yearning, teasing, flirting, hurt, comfort, and just all the cuteness

On the way home from Y/N’s house, Eddie’s mind and heart are racing. Instead of focusing on the road before him, his mind wanders to the nervous look on Y/N’s face or the adorable quiver in her lip.

When he gets to the trailer, the lights are off and his uncle’s car is nowhere to be seen. He unlocks the door and enters the dark space. He flicks on the light and trudges to his room where he flops on the bed and looks up at the ceiling fan.

He folds his hands behind his head and sighs. “Goddamn it Y/N, what are you doing to me,” he wonders aloud.

He turns over to his bedside table and rummages through the drawer. He pulls out one of his premade joints and a lighter. He props himself up on his elbows and lights it. He takes a puff and draws a long inhale. He exhales a cloud of smoke and a tension in his shoulders dissipates. His heart, however, is still pounding loudly in his chest from the moment that just transpired: he had asked Y/N, sweet, innocent, beautiful Y/N, if she’d ever had sex before.

Why did he even ask her that? Well, in the moment, it felt like the right thing to say, but now, he worries he might’ve taken things too far.

It’s not like it’s his responsibility to help her explore something as personal as her sensuality, but she just looked so lost and confused. Like she was completely in the dark and the only person who had ever shone a light on the subject was him.

He wouldn’t be surprised if sex was another thing on the list of forbidden fruits her parents ordained on her, but he at least expected her to have some sort of girlish curiosity about it, not just avoid the subject completely.

Regardless, it was obvious she had never had sex before, but despite the fact that she was clearly embarrassed about it, she never denied it. He knows for a fact that anybody else would have and made up some story to pretend like they had, but she didn’t and that was refreshing to him.

By the end of the night, he comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t regret what happened, but he knows that he needs to be careful. He doesn’t want Y/N to think he’s more of a freak than he already is. They’ve only known each other for a matter of days and he’s already managed to screw things up: that’s a record.

In a way, he’s grateful they won’t meet up tomorrow. The afforded time and space might grant him a shred of dignity back. And yet, he feels like it’ll be too long. As he takes another puff of his joint, he begins to count down the far too many hours before he’ll see her again.

—-

The next morning, Y/N wakes up with very little recollection of the night before.

Like any other life altering moment, it kept her up into the night just replaying it, thinking about it, and overthinking about it.

But in the morning, she’s not fully awake enough to remember it just yet. As she opens the blinds to her room and adjusts to the day ahead, she’s reminded of the to-do list full of assignments, activities, and tasks that’ll keep her brain occupied for a while.

The thought of Eddie finally comes to her as she stands face to face with her closet. She forgot to prepare an outfit the night before and is tasked with choosing one now. It should be a simple enough task. There’s a few outfit combinations in her wardrobe that are tried and true, but a certain pesky thought stops her in her tracks before she can even select one.

What would Eddie think?

Y/N wonders what Eddie would think of any of the outfit choices she has. Would he think this outfit is too dorky? Would he think that outfit is cool? Would he think she looked pretty in whatever it is that she wears?

Y/N shakes her head as if she could physically remove the thought that way.

She convinces herself that it doesn’t even matter how she looks because she won’t even be spending time with him after school today. But then she realizes that it doesn’t mean she won’t see him at all.

During class, she’ll have to tell him that they’ll have to meet at 4:30 tomorrow instead because she has an appointment with her guidance counselor after school.

It’ll only be a five minute conversation, so why base a whole outfit for the day based on a brief interaction, especially with a boy she has no business wanting to impress?

And yet, she finds herself wanting to look good, for him.

The realization makes her want to crawl out of her skin. She’s never been so boy crazy as to want to look good for a boy before. She sees that sort of hypnosis in her close friends who have boyfriends. From that moment forward, Y/N promised herself she wouldn’t succumb to that madness, yet here she is now.

It’s silly to be worrying about this. She has college applications and exams and other, far more important, things to be worrying about. And besides, what's the point of a high school relationship? Not that she’s even imagining a relationship with Eddie, but while she’s on the subject, she reminds herself that they’re futile.

This time next year, she’ll be away at college, many many miles away from Hawkins. And she can’t make permanent plans based on temporary people, so it’s futile to keep incorporating Eddie into her thoughts like this.

Eddie is just a boy that she has to work on an assignment with. It’s fun working with him, sure, but that’s all he is. Nothing more and nothing less… Right?

—

By the time Thursday rolls around Eddie’s been eagerly anticipating seeing Y/N again.

If he had a quarter for every glance he stole at Y/N when he thought she wasn’t looking, he could probably buy another guitar by now.

It’s not enough just to be able to see her in class, looking at her whenever she pushes up her glasses with her index finger or raises her hand and gives the correct answer to whatever problem the teacher presents them with.

And it's definitely not enough to sneak glances of her at lunch where her friend group sits on the other side of the cafeteria.

“Eddie,” Dustin waves a hand in his face.

“What?” Eddie snaps out of his daze.

“We’re voting on when to have the next campaign.” Dustin says with frustration.

“Yeah, yeah I’m down for whatever,” Eddie aloofly responds and shoos Dustin away.

Sometimes, if there’s not too many students walking past Y/N and her group of friends, Eddie will see her talking and laughing. And sometimes, he’ll blame it on his imagination, that when he sees Y/N crane her neck a few times, it’s because she too is searching for him across the sea of students.

As he sees her laugh and smile, he wonders what she talks about. He also wonders what her friends are like. And he wishes he didn’t care, but a small part of him that he tries to bury wonders what they think of him. What would they think of him and Y/N spending so much time together?

For the rest of the day, thoughts of Y/N consume Eddie’s head, and by the time school lets out, his blood is pumping rapidly in anticipation.

Eddie lingers a bit with some of the Hellfire boys, but at 4:25 makes sure to promptly make his way to wait for Y/N by the counselor’s office.

He almost wanted to bring her something. He thought about it a lot and considered bringing her a snack but he doesn’t know what her favorite candy or soda is.

He also thought about bringing her some wildflowers from the field by the parking lot, but that would be too much.

He even thought about bringing her one of his guitar picks, but worried she might think it was too weird or personal, or worse, not even care.

Maybe it’s too soon to be doing any of those things, but he just wants to do something special for Y/N and make up for the weirdness of Tuesday night.

He decides that maybe the best way to make it up to her would be to be on his best behavior and try his best to finish their assignment on a good note today.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t catch Y/N on quite a good note that afternoon.

As he excitedly waits for her by the counselors office, he hopes she’ll appreciate his punctuality, but it proves pointless when it’s 4:35 and she’s still not there.

He looks down the hall and checks the other side but it’s empty. He checks his watch again and frowns. Why is she taking so long? Did he somehow miss her?

Suddenly, the sound of a doorknob turning catches his attention and he sees Y/N sluggishly exiting the door of the guidance counselors office.

“Yeah, you too,” Y/N weakly mumbles over her shoulder before turning her head forward.

She comes out in a daze, not even seeing Eddie and his wild mane of hair as she walks out the door like a zombie.

“Y/N,” he wonders aloud in confusion. She walks slowly with her head hung low and doesn’t stop at the sound of his voice.

“Y/N wait up,” Eddie calls after her but she’s too lost in thought to hear. Eddie jogs to catch up to her and plants his feet in front of her.

He sees a deep scowl on her face and teeth gnawing on her bottom lip. “Y/N are you okay?”

Y/N stops in her tracks and looks up at him, freed from her spiraling thoughts. She breathes deeply and holds herself steady.

“Is something wrong?”

Y/N shakes her head and looks away. Eddie says her name in an unconvincing way.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks and Y/N looks up. She doesn’t say a word with her lips, but her eyes say it all.

Y/N’s chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplates what she should say or do. None of this concerns him and he probably wouldn’t care anyway. This is her problem and her problem alone to deal with.

“You know you can tell me right?” Eddie says reassuringly as he gently places his hand on her shoulder. Y/N slowly looks from his slender fingers gently gripping on the fabric of her shirt to his leather clad arm to the tattoos peeking out from his collar to the pale skin of his neck, the strong set of his jaw, the warmth of his lips, and the sincerity of his big brown eyes.

“I know we haven’t known each other long, but whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Y/N locks eyes with Eddie and she looks back and forth between his irises. A curtain of stone cold blankness crosses her face. She can’t let Eddie see her like this. It’s embarrassing enough what he’s learned about her, but to see her so weak and emotional like this is the last straw.

“Y/N, I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but you don’t have to deal with this alone, you know? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Y/N lightly gasps under her breath. Can he hear her thoughts? How does he know what she’s feeling, without her even having to say a word? If she weren’t so self-conscious about her composure, she could just cry at his words.

She doesn’t want to drag this moment out even more than it already has been, so she tries to give him enough of an explanation that he won’t ask questions and they can just move on from this unspeakably uncomfortable and embarrassing moment.

Y/N shakes her head. “It’s nothing. I just had to speak with the counselor and–” she cuts herself off.

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first. He waits for Y/N to continue her sentence, but when she doesn’t, he asks, “Did something happen in there?”

Y/N hesitates, contemplating if she should even say it out loud, let alone to Eddie. The boy is starting to get too close for comfort.

She looks at him and his big brown eyes and feels her chest tighten. The way he looks at her is unlike the way any boy has ever looked at her. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that she herself can’t even reciprocate.

Normally, she would just keep something like this to herself, or better yet, pretend like it didn’t even happen, but the concern in his face and worry in his eyes begins to make her feel differently.

Eddie removes his hand from her shoulder and lets it hang by his side, leaving her feeling cold. “I know you probably think I won’t understand, but… but I can try.”

Y/N shakes her head. “It’s not that I think you wouldn’t understand Eddie,” Y/N responds, struggling but using every ounce of willpower in her body to maintain eye contact. “In fact, if I think about it, you might be the only one who would understand. I just… I… I don’t know. It feels weird to talk about.”

Eddie exhales and bites his lip as he looks away for a second before looking at Y/N. “Well, can you at least tell me how bad it was?”

“It was kind of bad.”

Eddie frowns. “Were you… hurt, in any way?”

“No, I didn’t get hurt,” Y/N exhales and the right corner of her lip turns up slightly, feeling somewhat relieved at having gotten a fraction of the most discouraging experience she’s ever had off her chest, even if it's to Eddie Munson.

Eddie exhales and a small smile slowly creeps onto his own face. “Good. I guess this means I don’t need to go around beating anybody up for you then, right?”

Y/N looks down and giggles. Eddie beams at her, feeling victorious at having brought a smile to her face.

“No. Not that I even believe violence is the answer, but no. And no offense, but you seem like your bark is much worse than your bite.” Y/N jokes as she starts walking. Eddie follows suit and the two make their way out of the building.

“Believe me, the Hellfire boys and I can do some real damage.”

“Yeah, like I’m entrusting a bunch of nerds to do my fighting. What’s a few matching t-shirts and dice gonna do?”

“Wow, so that’s how it is, huh? And calling us a bunch of nerds as if you yourself aren’t one,” Eddie teases and pinches Y/N’s cheek. Y/N nods with a small smirk and blush tinting her cheeks.

“You wound me, Y/N,” Eddie says and it comes off far more seductively in Y/N’s ears than the sarcasm Eddie likely intended.

When Y/N and Eddie make their way over to his van, Eddie walks Y/N to the passenger side and opens the door for her. Y/N raises a leg up to step into the van, then hesitates and brings it back down. She looks inside the van then back at Eddie who has one hand on the outside door handle and the other pressed flat against the back door.

Y/N turns around and leans against the car. She exhales and shyly says Eddie’s name. The sound is sweeter than any song Eddie’s ever heard.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks gently. Their corner of the parking lot is empty, with the after school rush having died down which is a privacy Y/N welcomes.

Seeing Y/N so guarded and unlike herself elicits an inexplicable need in Eddie to protect her. To take care of her. She’s strong on her own, but he wants her to know that she doesn’t always have to be. That she can be weak with him.

“What happened back there,” Y/N says and jerks her head in the direction of the school building, “was because of something the counselor said to me.”

Eddie looks at her and doesn’t see a sense of fear in her face anymore. Despite this, he still wishes he could touch her. He wants to run his fingers along her arm or hold her in an embrace to comfort her, but he doesn’t want to be too forward or any more forward than he already has been.

“What did she say?” He tilts his head and looks at her intensely.

“Something…weird… I just don’t understand.” Y/N shakes her head, trying to withstand the intensity of his gaze.

“What is it you don’t understand?”

“Well, she was weird about my college and major choice. I mean, the reason I even went to the guidance counselor today was to review my college application essays with her but we didn’t even get to do that. I sat down and handed them to her and before she even took a look at them, she asked where I was applying to and what I was majoring in. So I told her, you know, my dream school is the University of Chicago and I’m applying to their civil engineering program. I’ve wanted to go there for as long as I can remember.”

Y/N takes a deep breath in and out. Then, in a frustrated manner she rapidly and irritatedly explains the rest of her guidance counselor visit, “And it’s like I know what I like and what I’m good at and where I want to go and how I’m going to get there. All I needed was a second opinion on my essays. But she couldn’t even give me that. As soon as I told her my plan, she said I should set my sights on something a bit more realistic. But what do I need to be realistic about? I didn’t work my ass off to be ranked number three in our class, behind Randy and Lisa, do a million extracurriculars, and try to have stellar essays to be realstic.”

“Wow, she said that to you?”

“Yeah, and that’s not even the worst part. Then she goes on to say that she thinks I should look into the local community college or a state school here in Indiana because a person like me would be lucky to even get into one of those schools, let alone the University of Chicago.”

“A person like you? What does that even mean?” Eddie asks in disgust.

“I don’t know! But she said she wouldn’t even look over my application until I decided to apply to a state school and change my major to something a little bit easier and less intimidating.”

“What? That’s fucking bullshit,” Eddie huffs angrily and slaps his hand against the car door several inches away from where Y/N’s leaning. The noise and proximity make her jump

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Eddie says as he lightly rubs his hand up and down her arm. “Anyway, what else did she say?”

“That was it,” Y/N says and Eddie nods. “I just feel so stupid, you know? I mean, next time I’ll just ask my English teacher to look over my essays.”

“Y/N,” Eddie asks, daring to include the phrase, “are you serious?”.

“What?”

“What the counselor said to you was complete and utter bullshit, you have to know that.”

Y/N shrugs while pressing her lips together and holding her breath. If she doesn’t think about it too much, then maybe the tears will go away.

“She’s wrong about you. You shouldn’t listen to the indoctrination crap she probably gives every other person in this school. You’re meant for more than Hawkins. And you’ll be a badass at engineering, I guarantee it.”

Y/N’s spirit lifts at Eddie’s words, but not as much as it should have. She smiles, but it fades before she whispers in a hurt voice, “But then why would she say that?”

“Because she’s a fucking idiot! An idiot who can’t see that you’re one of the smartest students in this school, hell this town.”

“But Eddie, she’s the guidance counselor.”

“It doesn’t make her right.” He spits.

“What? Why not?” Y/N’s voice cracks as she clutches the door for balance. If she can’t trust the elders in her life, then who can she trust?

“Look Y/N, not every adult in the world is smart or right. In fact, a lot of them are the opposite. Just look at the president, he’s both.” Eddie sneers.

Y/N wrinkles her eyebrows.

“And they don’t always have your best interest at heart either. Sometimes you have to just take what they say with a grain of salt.”

Y/N nods, eyebrows still furrowed as she makes sense of her words, “I never thought of it like that.”

“Well, you get let down enough times and you start learning the rules of this little thing called life,” Eddie smiles.

“Eddie,” Y/N responds with concern, looking at his bangs lightly blowing in the wind.

“Don’t worry about me, Y/N. Just promise that you won’t listen to what she says.”

“I can, it’s just… How could she say that to a student?”

“ Because she’s just doing her Hawkins High School job of forcing conformity onto you. But you don’t have to do that, you know.” Eddie bends down to follow her downcast line of sight till she looks him in the eye. “You don’t have to be who people want you to be.”

Y/N scrunches her eyebrows. The realizations are too intense for her. For as long as she could remember, she did what others expected of her.

“You can’t let your guidance counselors, or your teachers, or even your parents continue to tell you who you are or who you should be, Y/N. Only you get to decide who that is.”

Y/N looks away and blinks rapidly as she begins to feel tears form in her eyes. It’s too much too fast. She can only handle so many life altering realizations delivered by none other than Eddie Munson.

She opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out. She looks up at Eddie.

“Come here,” Eddie says as he rapidly wraps his arms around her and engulfs her in a hug.

Y/N’s body is frozen in shock. She’s still processing the events of her guidance counselor’s visit and Eddie’s words, but the feeling of Eddie’s tightening arms around her and the tufts of his hair tickling the skin of her cheeks bring her back to reality.

Slowly, she slinks her arms around his middle and presses her cheek against his warm chest. She sniffles and pulls tighter. This kind of affection is foreign to her, but coming from Eddie, it’s more than welcome.

Eddie rests his chin atop her forehead and gently strokes the hair of her ponytail. She breathes him in. The scent of soap, cigarette smoke, and maybe even a bit of cologne fills her nostrils. He smells so good. Has a boy ever smelled this good before?

They hold each other like that for what feels like eternity but is only a few minutes. She almost doesn’t want to let go, but her body betrays her and she pulls away.

“Eddie,” she gently says with furrowed eyebrows.

Eddie looks at her and realizes he just made a big mistake. “I’m sorry, I thought it would help.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… can we get out of here,” Y/N gently asks.

Eddie sighs in relief and smiles, “Let’s go.”

When they climb in the car, Eddie looks at her and says, “If you want, you can listen to whatever radio station you like.”

Y/N meekly nods. It’s only car ride number three and he’s already defying his own rules for her. She knows how much it must mean for him to say that so she shyly thanks him and tunes in to her favorite station.

“When we get to the diner we can get whatever you want and just forget about all the bullshit that is Hawkins High School. Sound good?” Eddie says as he starts the van and pulls out of the parking lot. “Actually,” Y/N responds, “I don’t really feel like going to the diner today.”

“Oh,” Eddie looks from the sides of his eyes, “Where do you want to go?”

“I kind of want to go somewhere quiet. I don’t really feel like being around a lot of people right now.”

Eddie looks at her again, not really sure what she’s asking for. “Did you have anywhere in mind?”

Eddie’s already on the road, only a few minutes away from the diner, but he’d travel a hundred miles if it meant making Y/N happy.

“No, not really.”

“Uh, we could go back to my place, if that’s alright. My uncle has an early shift today so he should be gone by the time we get there.”

Y/N steps out of her emotions for a second and realizes the gravity of his invitation. She’s being invited to Eddie Munson’s home. She’ll be home alone, with a boy. Just her and Eddie. And Eddie’s room which might eventually enter the mix. Her and Eddie. Alone. In a room. His room. With his bed and-

“Does that sound okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah that’s perfect,” Y/N’s lips answer, betraying her anxious thoughts.

“Okay,” Eddie says as he looks at his fuel gauge, noticing its dangerously close level to empty. “We might have to stop at a gas station real quick. I’m not gonna have enough to make it all the way to my trailer.”

Trailer? Y/N didn’t know Eddie lived in a trailer. It’s not a bad thing, but she’s more surprised than anything to learn this about him. Although, it makes sense if it’s just him and his uncle. She imagines how a house could get too big and too lonely that way.

“Sure thing,” Y/N nods. Somehow, the thought of stopping somewhere familiar like a gas station before delving into the unknown that is Eddie’s personal space feels slightly relieving to Y/N.

After a few minutes, Eddie pulls into the gas station and parks in front of the convenience store.

“Eddie, I thought-”

“C’mon, let’s get some snacks,” Eddie says and gets out of the van before Y/N has a chance to say anything.

Y/N follows suit, confused by his direction. She follows him and he opens the door for her to enter. A bell chimes and she walks through to find a landscape of chips, candies, and sodas galore.

She slowly makes her way to the side and looks to Eddie to lead the way. He looks down at her and says a quick, “C’mon” before strolling to the candy aisle.

“What’s your favorite candy?” Eddie says as his eyes scan the rows of sweets.

“Um, I like Hershey’s chocolate, especially the kind with almonds,” Y/N says softly.

“Ok, Hershey’s chocolate with almonds for you and pop rocks for me,” Eddie reaches out and grabs one of each candy.

“Eddie, but-”

“C’mon, let’s go get some slurpees,” Eddie cheers as he makes his way over to the slurpee machine.

“Eddie,” Y/N calls after him.

“Which one do you want, blue raspberry or cherry?”

“Um, I’m fine with just my candy,” Y/N shyly says.

“You sure,” Eddie cocks an eyebrow and Y/N nods.

“If you say so,” he raises his hands in mock defense.

He leans in and places a flat hand by his mouth and whispers, “But between you and me, if you want some later you can just have some of mine,” he winks.

Y/N blinks in confusion at Eddie. What has gotten into him?

“Think we’ll need anything else before we go?”

“Um, not really,” Y/N shrugs, not expecting him to go on this random massive snack scavenger hunt with her.

“Okay let’s hit the road then,” Eddie says as he skips over to checkout. Y/N and Eddie argue about him paying for her chocolate bar before ultimately just letting him do it.

They exit the store and get into the van. Eddie reparks the car at the closest available pump and gets out of the van. As he stands, waiting for the gas to pump into his van, Y/N sighs and looks out the window.

A car with an unrecognizable boy driving and girl riding in the passenger seat, pull up to the pump in front of them. The boy says something to the girl before leaning over the console to give her a quick peck on the lips. He gets out of the car and starts pumping gas. The girl looks over and makes eye contact with Y/N. She smiles and Y/N instinctively gives her a shy smile back.

The girl turns to look in Eddie’s direction while Y/N looks in the direction of the girl's boyfriend. The two boys see each other and do a mutual head nod.

Y/N turns over her shoulder and sees Eddie leaned against the van. One arm is fully outstretched with a palm flat against the metal of the vehicle while the other is holding the pump. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes cast downward, but when he feels Y/N looking at him, his eyes flick upward and he smirks at her.

Y/N’s eyes widen and cheeks redden as she rapidly swivels back in her seat. She breathes in through her nostrils, but it feels shallow.

She hears the clanking of the nozzle and shortly after, Eddie climbs back into the van.

“You ready,” he asks with a gleam in his eyes. Y/N sees the couple across from them getting ready to leave too.

“Um,” she looks over at him with a nervous smile, “Yeah.”

“Alright,” he cheerfully exclaims. He puts the gear into drive and backs out of the pumping area. Y/N resists the urge to admire how sinfully good looking he is when he drives or wonder if she and Eddie looked just as much like a couple to the boy and girl from the gas station as they did to her.

For the rest of the journey to Eddie’s trailer, Eddie makes mindless chatter, filling Y/N’s nervous silence beyond that of her favorite radio station.

“Shh, I love this song,” Y/N interrupts Eddie and raises the volume as When Doves Cry by Prince comes on.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite Prince songs.”

Eddie briefly looks over at her and asks incredulously, “Really?”

“Yeah! Probably that and Purple Rain.”

“Hm,” Eddie nods contemplatively.

He hesitates a moment before adding “I know Prince is more of a pop star, but even I can admit, the man is an absolute beast on guitar,” Eddie comments in awe and Y/N giggles.

“He is! Maybe you should learn how to play a Prince song. Expand your heavy metal horizons and what not.”

Eddie chuckles and looks over at Y/N. “Yeah, maybe I will.”

Y/N nods and notices they’re approaching the trailer park. Eddie drives past a few trailers before pulling up to his own.

Y/N’s looks around, taking in her surroundings. The spaced out beige paneled trailers are different from the tightly packed red brick homes of her neighborhood.

Here, many adults are outside hanging wet clothes to dry on a clothesline or sitting and having a beer with their loved ones. In her neighborhood, it’s usually children out on the streets playing or riding their bikes. It’s different, but comforting in the same way.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie greets as he opens the door to the trailer and lets Y/N walk through first. She takes a step in and Eddie follows behind her, turning on the yellow fluorescent light that hums above them.

She takes in the sight of the kitchen, dining room and living room. The space isn’t big by any means, but it's somehow roomier than she thought it would be.

She walks further and turns around, taking in the sight of dozens of trucker hats and coffee mugs on the walls and ceiling.

She looks to the side and notes the worn brown couch in front of the tv with a collection of VHS tapes scattered nearby. She wonders which ones are Eddie’s favorites. What are his favorite movies or tv shows?

The clanking of dishes takes her out of her thoughts and she turns to see Eddie rummaging through the kitchen cupboards.

“Since you despise slurpees for some weird reason–”

“I don’t despise slurpees. They’re fine, just not really my treat of choice.”

“Whatever you say, smarty pants.”

Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Could I interest you in a crisp refreshing coke,” he says in a jingle voice, “or maybe a cup of stale leftover coffee my uncle probably made before he left?”

Y/N follows Eddie’s voice to the kitchen. She approaches the counter and leans her arms against it. “Um, yes to the coke, no to the coffee.”

She watches Eddie as he sets a glass on the counter, fills it with ice, and pours a can of Coca Cola over it. “One ice cold coke on the rocks,” Eddie proclaims as he slides the glass over the counter to Y/N as he looks into her eyes and wiggles his eyebrows.

Y/N blushes and looks down, but her hair is pulled back so there’s nothing to hide her embarrassed blush.

“Thanks,” she gratefully mumbles before turning around and taking a seat at the table. As Eddie serves his own glass, Y/N starts taking out her papers and pencil.

“Feeling better?” Eddie asks as he sits down across from her. She nods and meekly looks up from her paper to him. “Yeah, thanks for your help Eddie,” she says sweetly.

Eddie nods. “Sure thing, smarty pants. Wanna get to work then?” Eddie asks as he pulls out his own papers.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Y/N responds, surprised at Eddie’s eagerness to actually focus on their assignment for once.

She looks down at the papers scattered in front of her. They only have a few more questions to work on till they're done. She can get them done in no time.

Except this time around, she finds herself more distracted than ever. She’s constantly looking around the trailer or getting lost in some thought completely unrelated to chemistry and 9 times out of 10 related to Eddie.

At first, she lets her eyes wander to the mug collection she saw earlier and wonders if Eddie had chosen any. Does he even drink coffee? Or tea? He seems like someone who primarily lives on Jack and Coke and the thrill of a heavy metal song. Or maybe they all belong to his uncle. What is he like?

She tries to refocus her attention to the pencil in her hand and the paper in front of her, but the pencil feels too heavy and something inside her buzzes too loudly for her to properly focus on anything.

She looks back up and sees Eddie deep in concentration. His slender, ring clad fingers wrapped around a pencil. She wonders where he got those rings from or why he even chose to wear them in the first place. They look good on him, no doubt, but it’s rather uncommon for guys to wear rings or things like that. Well, unless you’re Freddie Mercury or David Bowie that is.

Her gaze trails up to his wild head of hair. His voluminous frizzy waves take over his head and shoulders. She wonders what he ever looked like with short hair. She also wonders what he would look like with his hair in a ponytail or even in braids. She imagines what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair as she braided it.

His hair is another one of those things that not many guys could pull off, but on Eddie, it’s totally and utterly attractive.

“Y/N,” Eddie says in a playfully scolding voice still looking down at his paper, “I know I’m looking sexy as hell today, but do you think we could maybe focus on the task at hand?” Eddie looks up at her with a shit eating grin and Y/N tenses up.

“What? I’m not–I…I am focusing on the task at hand” Y/N scoffs, flustered and red-cheeked.

“You sure about that sweetheart?” Eddie’s eyebrows raise as his gaze travels to Y/N’s blank paper.

Y/N’s breath gets caught in her throat as she looks down. “Y-yeah I am.”

“You don’t sound too sure,” Eddie replies, cockiness dripping with every word.

Y/N turns her head up and looks Eddie square in the eye, “Well, I am. So, one, tough shit if you don’t believe me, and two, for your information, you’re not even… sexy, so...”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re so cute when you curse.”

Y/N gasps and Eddie leans forward to seductively add, “Even more when you lie.”

“Eddie,” Y/N hisses, flames kissing every inch of her skin. “Stop distracting me so we can finish this assignment.”

“You seem distracted whether or not I say anything, smarty pants.”

“That’s… not true.” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her watered down coke before pretending to focus on the question before her.

She can feel her heart beating loudly in her chest. Can Eddie hear it too?

“Uh huh, sure,” Eddie says sarcastically before returning to his own work. Soon enough, the heat in Y/N’s chest and shame in her features dissipate till the two are silently engrossed in finishing the remainder of their assignment.

With the adrenaline from Eddie’s shameless teasing, Y/N finds the strength to finish the assignment with ease.

“Okay, I’m finished with my part. How are you on yours?” Y/N asks.

“Hold on. I’m almost done with this last question” Eddie says without looking away from the paper as he scribbles out his answer.

Eddie puts his pencil down and looks up at Y/N, “I’m done."

“We did it!” Y/N cheers and raises her hand up for a high five. Eddie is confused at first, then claps his hand to hers.

“Yeah,” he forces a smile.

This isn’t good news. It should be, but it isn’t. This means he won’t have a reason to spend time with Y/N anymore. If he's honest with himself, why else would someone like Y/N hang out with a freak like him.

He recalls the first day they spent together and the conversation they had after they left the library. He remembers promising Y/N that they would do something fun to celebrate their finished assignment. He doubts Y/N remembers it or actually meant it when she promised it back.

Part of him wants to bring it up, but it’s a miracle that she’s even here with him now. Maybe he can just make the most of his time left with her now, before it’s over.

Y/N checks her watch, “And it’s only 5:45!”

Eddie looks over his shoulder before turning back to Y/N. “You don’t have to be home till 7:00 right?”

“Yeah!”

“C’mere. I wanna show you something?” Eddie says and gets out of his chair. “Oh, what is it?” Y/N asks innocently.

He leads the way to his room and Y/N cautiously follows. He enters casually while Y/N lingers in the doorway. Eddie begins moving things around and searching for something within his drawers while Y/N scans the room; there’s stuff everywhere. How can someone think or breathe in a room like this? The disorganization makes Y/N yearn for the clean corners and empty edges of her own bedroom.

She takes in the mixture of band and playboy posters hung on the walls. There’s empty cigarette cartons and crushed beer cans on the dresser. It smells faintly of weed and even a bit of aquanet. There’s clothes strewn about across every square inch of the room.

She refrains from touching anything, feeling like the inside of a museum exhibit of a teenage boys room in 1985.

The chaos makes Y/N feel on edge, but she relaxes as her gaze settles on a weird looking, larger than life, bright red guitar hung on his mirror across from the doorway.

She slowly walks forward, almost entranced by the exquisite instrument. Its edges create a unique shape and the cherry red color is so vibrant. She stands before it and only looks, but her hands are itching to-

“Touch it,” Eddie says from behind and Y/N shrieks. She looks over her shoulder at Eddie standing inches away and clutches the part of her shirt over her chest.

“Holy shit, I didn’t mean to scare you there tiger,” Eddie chuckles and Y/N rolls her eyes.

“You didn’t… I just could hear you.” Y/N mutters and looks at the hand he effortlessly places on her shoulder.

“You can touch the guitar if you want,” Eddie says and he’s so close Y/N can feel the vibration of his voice against her body. His warm breath lightly coats her exposed ear.

“Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay,” she says softly and reaches out to touch the base of the guitar. She lightly runs her fingers across the sleek material and shivers. She slowly strums her fingers along the chords and nearly jumps at the corresponding noise.

“Wanna hold it?” Eddie asks and lifts his arms up to take the guitar off its mount. Y/N’s eyes are drawn to the tattoos on the taut skin of his muscled bicep.

He offers the guitar to Y/N and she takes it, placing the strap over her head and onto her shoulder.

“Do you play on this often?”

“Yeah, we play at a dive bar a couple miles out of town.”

“What?” Y/N asks as she strums across the chords. She looks up at him in confusion.

Eddie looks around for a chord and connects the guitar to the amp on his dresser, “I play with my band, Corroded Coffin.”

“You’re in a band?” She asks with widened eyes.

“Yeah, you should come see us sometime,” he says confidently.

Y/N nods, speechless at the realization that Eddie is not only in a band but performs live. Her mind zeroes in on the vision of what Eddie would like playing guitar on stage. How his hair would stick to sweat on his skin and how the stage lights would reflect on his tattooed arms or dazzling eyes.

“Here, try this,” Eddie turns on the amp and hands Y/N a guitar pick. Y/N takes it and nervously strums the guitar. She nearly flinches from the loud vibrations.

“See, you’re a natural,” Eddie teases. Y/N glares at him.

“We’ll take it slow,” Eddie says as he leans forward and places her hands on a specific string and fret. Y/N looks up at his hooded eyes, lids half closed as he looks down at her hands. She’s almost mesmerized by his beautiful features till the electric touch of his fingers on hers brings her attention down to the instrument between them.

“Now strum” his command brings Y/N back to earth. She strums and hears the sound vibrate off the instrument.

“Now put your right hand on the string below it and put your left hand here,” Eddie adjusts. She strums.

“Okay, now put this hand here, on the D and G chords, and this hand here,” Eddie gives her another chord and she strums. They repeat the process for several more chords.

“Now put it all together,” Eddie instructs.

Y/N slowly strums, pausing to adjust between chords. When she forgets a chord, because why did Eddie have to make her memorize so many, she looks up to Eddie and he points out the next one.

She plays the entire piece and it sounds crooked but somewhat familiar. She tries it again and again. The more she plays the more she recognizes the song he’s just taught her.

“Wait,” Y/N looks back down in concentration and plays the chords faster. Duh duh duhhh duh duh duh duhhhh, duh duh duhhh duh duh.

“Eddie,” Y/N exclaims. She looks at him with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. She looks down and plays the chords more fluidly, getting into a rhythm.

She plays the song again and moves her body to the rhythm, leaning forward and back and bobbing her head along the way.

“Eddie! I’m…” Y/N trails off as she finishes the song one last time.

“A rockstar?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“No,” she rolls her eyes then peers up at him.

“That, smarty pants, is the legendary riff to Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple.”

Y/N stops playing and tightly clutches the guitar in her fingers. She scrunches her eyebrows and grins at the impending sense of pride she feels.

“That was… awesome! I loved every second of it. Do you feel like this every time you play?” She asks in breathless excitement. Her chest drastically rising and falling.

Eddie’s taken aback by Y/N’s reaction. He didn’t think she would be this excited or awestruck. He clears his throat and says, “Something like that.”

Y/N takes the strap off and holds out the guitar to him.

“It’s your turn,” She smugly grins at him.

“You want me to play?” Eddie smirks and grabs the guitar.

Y/N sits back on the edge of his bed. “Yeah, show me what you’ve got.” She says with a challenging tone.

Eddie adjusts the guitar in his expert fingers. He holds his hand out for the guitar pick and flicks his wrist before he starts strumming.

“You mean, a little something like this,” he winks before playing the chords to Iron Man by Black Sabbath. Y/N gasps at how much it sounds like the tape he played just the other day.

“Or maybe a little something like this,” he says and expertly plays the Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple chord he just taught her.

“Surely you know that one,” he winks at her open mouthed and wide eyed face.

“Wanna hear something new I’ve added to my set list?” Eddie asks and Y/N nods with heat emanating from every inch of her skin. Eddie breathes in then exhales. He closes his eyes and strums the intro riff to When Doves Cry by Prince.

“Eddie!” Y/N squeals as she rises to her feet, smile beaming wide from ear to ear. “You learned my favorite Prince song? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N knows she must be imagining the pink tint beginning to coat Eddie’s cheeks.

Eddie decided from the first time Y/N rode in his van that he would learn a song for her. He figured a Prince song would be the most natural option. After borrowing the Purple Rain tape from one of his bandmates and listening to it for hours on repeat, he not only fell in love with the album but wanted to learn how to play every single song. He really liked the intro riff to When Doves Cry but he never realized the song would draw him in the same way it did for Y/N.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says bashfully.

Truthfully, he didn’t expect he would ever get the chance to show her, but the look in her eyes let him know that the late nights spent practicing were well worth it.

Y/N looks at him smiling breathlessly at her. This is the nicest and most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for her.

She turns her head to the side and covers her smile with her fingers. If she doesn’t get it together, she’s sure her heart will explode out of her chest.

Keeping her fingertips on her lips, she asks, “Do you sing, at all? For Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie presses his lips together, fighting the smile threatening to form on his face and does a one shoulder shrug.

“What does that mean?”

“Sorta, kinda.” Eddie shortly grins. With most girls, he’ll never hesitate to let them know he’s the frontman of Corroded Coffin. He doesn’t know why, but girls always seem to like him more when they learn he’s a guitar player, especially when he tells them he’s the lead singer too.

“So do you sing backup then?”

“Not exactly,” he grins at her like a Cheshire cat.

“Eddie,” Y/N whines, “Why are you being so weird about this? Just answer the question.”

Eddie leans back on his dresser and crosses his arms over his chest. He smiles and cockily says, “Just come to one of our shows. You’ll find out then.”

“When’s your next show?”

“Friday.”

Y/N gulps. “Friday, as in tomorrow?”

“Yup,” Eddie replies, cockily popping the p-sound.

Y/N frowns, “I can’t. My friends and I made plans to go to Star Court after school.”

“That’s fine. We usually don’t go on till 11:00 anyway. You can come after. And bring your friends too.”

“Eddie, I can’t do that. On weekends my curfew is 10:00.”

Eddie looks down in disappointment, “Oh, come on, you can just sneak out. Your parents won’t know the difference.”

“Seriously, I can’t. And I just know they would find out somehow. Nothing gets past them.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Get one of them to cover for you.”

Y/N knows that if her sister could, that she would cover for her, and that she could potentially get away with it, but that’s way too big of an if she’s not ready to gamble on.

“Eddie, even if I could get my sister to cover for me, I just don’t think it would work.”

“Sure they will. They’ll probably be asleep the whole time and not even notice you’re gone.”

Y/N tries to imagine it. Never mind the fact that she doesn’t even have a car to get her there. But, if somehow he gave her a ride and if her sister covered her and if everything worked out… What would happen then? Probably nothing because there’s no way that could ever happen.

“Look Eddie, while I’m under my parents roof, I can’t afford to get in trouble in any capacity. I just can’t. I hope you can understand,” Y/N looks at him pleadingly.

Eddie looks into her eyes and sees a scared child. It’s a sight he recognizes instantly because he used to have it too.

“Yeah, I understand,” he replies in a sense of respectful disappointment.

“Thanks,” Y/N whispers and Eddie nods.

An awkward silence fills the room but is interrupted when Y/N gets an idea. “I would still like to see you play though.”

Eddie looks at her in confusion.

“Maybe you could give me a preview, tonight,” Y/N bats her eyes.

Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“You could play one song. It could be like practice.” She says innocently with big doe eyes.

Eddie is tempted to give in, but he hasn’t fully let go of the hope that she could see him play live with Corroded Coffin someday. He knows it's a lot to ask for someone like her, and yet he wants it badly enough to ask for it anyway.

But for all he knows, this might be the last night they ever spend together. If she were to never see him play live or even see him outside of the classroom, then he wants to give her something. He wants to give Y/N anything she asks and one last beautiful memory between them both.

“Okay,” he gives in.

“Really? You sure?” Y/N worries she might have pressured him.

“Yeah, for you I will.”

Y/N smiles hopefully at him “Okay.”

Eddie turns over and moves items around on his dresser. He pulls out a microphone and plugs the chord attached to it to the amp beside him

He juts his chin in the direction of the back corner of the room “You mind passing me the mic stand over there?”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she silently follows his request. Is he really about to do this right now?

“You sure it won’t be too loud? Don’t want to disturb the neighbors.”

“Nah, they don’t care.”

“They don’t or you don’t care?”

“Y/N, I practice like this all the time and they’ve never said anything to me before.”

“Yet.”

“Y/N, do you want me to do this or not?” He chuckles.

Y/N nods, “I do.”

“Just sit back,” He flicks his wrist in the direction of his bed, “Relax, and enjoy the show.”

Y/N slowly backs away and takes a seat on the edge of his bed. She looks up at him, palms sweating and nerves tingling.

Eddie breathes and takes a moment to think about which song he’ll play for her. Besides the short Prince riff he just learned for her, there’s nothing he can play that she’ll like or isn’t metal. He doesn’t have a lot of options, so he goes with a safe choice and hopes she’ll appreciate it anyway.

He kisses his guitar pick before strumming the chords to Paranoid by Black Sabbath. It’s his favorite song to perform and one he knows like the back of his hand.

He begins strumming and shaking his head in rhythm with the song.

Finished with my woman 'cause

She couldn't help me with my mind

People think I'm insane because

I am frowning all the time

His voice echoes through the sound system and fills Y/N’s ears. Y/N looks at him and notices how his full lips curl closely to the head of the microphone.

All day long I think of things

But nothing seems to satisfy

Think I'll lose my mind

If I don't find something to pacify

He looks from his fingers on the guitar to Y/N’s face. His eyes lock with hers and he smiles before wailing:

Can you help me

Occupy my brain?

Oh yeah

His fingers dance along the strings and up the neck of the cherry red electric guitar. He thrusts his shoulders and moves his pelvis along with the instrument. He shakes his head, letting his frizzy waves fly.

I need someone to show me

The things in life that I can't find

I can't see the things that make

True happiness, I must be blind

He's lost in focus, trying to play it perfectly for her. He’s never looked more beautiful. Y/N’s dryly swallows the saliva in her poached throat. An unnerving sensation begins to grow in the pit of her stomach and her heart races to the beat of the song. In this moment, she realizes that she finally understands what it means when people say they’re turned on.

In just a simple pair of black jeans, a hellfire club t shirt, a leather jacket, and jean vest, Y/N feels like she’s in the presence of an absolute sex god.

Make a joke and I will sigh

And you will laugh and I will cry

Happiness I cannot feel

And love to me is so unreal

Y/N can feel the blood dancing in her veins. She almost wants to stand up and jump or dance around to the song, but one, there’s hardly any space, and two, how do you even dance to this kind of music? It’s so much easier to dance to music on the radio or the Spanish music her parents listen to.

She settles for nodding her head to the rhythm and grinning at Eddie. She even lets out a few whoops and hollers to cheer him on which he nervously smiles at before refocusing on the song.

And so as you hear these words

Telling you now of my state

I tell you to enjoy life

I wish I could but it's too late

Eddie strums the last chord and it slowly fades out. The buzz of the sound still reverberates around the room. His chest rises and falls and the hair at the back of his neck is damp.

Eddie wakes up from his metal induced trance and sees Y/N standing on her feet and clapping. She’s grinning widely at him and he breathlessly smiles back at her.

“Eddie! That was so awesome! You’re literally a rockstar!”

Y/N could just hug him, but there’s a whole guitar between them. And despite the fact that Eddie already took them to a “good acquaintances that can hug under specific circumstances” level, Y/N feels too shy to initiate such contact.

“Nah,” Eddie breathlessly replies with a wave of a hand.

“No seriously,” Y/N takes a step forward and places her hand an inch away from his holding the neck of the guitar, “You have a gift.”

They lock eyes for a moment. Y/N’s shine in admiration and Eddie’s gleam in pride.

Eddie breaks the contact to move over and unplug the chords.

As he puts the guitar back in its place, Y/N turns around and walks around the room with her back facing Eddie. It’s embarrassing how big he’s making her smile.

“So how long have you been playing guitar?” She asks as she pretends to look at the other things in his room.

“I don’t know. As long as I can remember.” Eddie says as his eyes follow her movement.

“Is that what you want to do when you grow up?” Y/N asks.

“I’m nineteen. Some would say I’m pretty grown already.”

Y/N’s tenses. She doesn’t like when he throws his age around like that. It makes her feel intimidated knowing how much older and experienced in life he is.

“You know what I mean Eddie.”

“I don’t know Y/N. Probably yeah. I want to keep playing for as long as I can.”

“What do you think you’ll do when you graduate?” Y/N asks as she walks over and sits at the corner of his bed.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it,” Eddie replies from his place against the dresser.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he replies curtly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, just haven’t.”

“Really?” Y/N asks incredulously.

“Look, maybe I’ll get a job with my uncle. Maybe I’ll go and fix up old cars. Maybe I’ll work at the record store at Star Court. Is that what you want to hear?” Eddie says in frustration as he plops down next to Y/N.

Y/N holds her breath and waits for him to calm down. She didn’t mean to make him mad, but what she doesn’t realize is just how sensitive of a subject this is for Eddie.

“Point is, I’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

“You don’t… have a plan?” She asks quietly, barely above a whisper at the boy sitting next to her.

“No, I don’t have a plan Y/N,” he says in a controlled voice as he looks down at his hands folded in his lap. “Why should I make a plan when it’s probably just gonna change?”

She turns her head to face him. “Yeah, sometimes your plans can change, but they still give you something to work for, something to hope for.”

“The last thing I need is false hope.”

“It’s not false hope, Eddie.”

“Tell me how it’s not.”

“I mean, if you could make your tomorrow better than your today, wouldn’t you at least try?”

Eddie looks down at Y/N who’s already looking up at him. He scrunches his eyebrows and bites the inside of his lower lip.

He looks back down at his lap and Y/N’s eyes trail to the tattoos on his arms. She wishes she could reach out and touch them, but that would be weird right? She’s in his room, leg to leg and arm to arm with him, but it would be too much if she reached out and placed her fingers over that delicate skin, right?

“Even if I did, what would it matter? Tomorrow isn’t promised, why should I act like it is?”

Y/N can’t deny that some of his words ring true, but it’s still not enough to convince her otherwise. Y/N sighs, “Are you happy, Eddie? With the way things are now.”

Eddie can’t find himself saying yes. Of course he isn’t happy he failed his senior year of high school twice. Of course he isn’t happy to be a burden on his uncle. But as long as he had his guitar and his D&D, it made life bearable.

“I mean for some things yeah, but I have a lot of other things to be happy about. I have my friends and I have my Uncle Wayne and I have music. To some, it may not look like a lot, but for me, that’s all I need.”

Y/N closes her eyes and breathes in. “Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Y/N twiddles her fingers in her lap. “You do have a lot to be happy about. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you can be grateful for everything your family’s done for you and you can still want more for yourself. I know I am.”

“You are?”

“Sure. I’m grateful for all the sacrifices my parents have made and all the things they’ve done for me, but at the same time, I know there’s more out there and I want it, even if it’s just a taste.”

Eddie muses over Y/N’s words. “Yeah I guess so.”

“In the same way, I’m grateful for everything Hawkins has given me, even if it includes shitty school counselors and hardly anything to do for miles, but I still want more than what this little town can offer, you know?”

Eddie nods slowly. “So what do you want?”

“Huh?”

“What do you want? That your parents or Hawkins can’t give you?”

Y/N takes a deep breath. There’s so many things that she wants in life. But she feels weird letting it all come out to Eddie. These are things she thinks about constantly but never tells anyone. She's excited but tries to contain it and instead lets out a simple, all encompassing answer. “Freedom.”

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles at her.

“Yeah. I can’t really do what I want or be who I want under my parent’s roof or in a place like Hawkins.”

“I feel the same way. I mean I can be who I want in here, but out there…” Eddie trails off and shakes his head.

“Is there anything you want?”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know. Never really thought about it.”

“Really?”

“I mean… no one’s ever asked me.”

“Well, I’m asking you. And I’m sure there’s something. For starters, do you ever want to leave Hawkins?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think about getting out of this god forsaken town, but then I think about my uncle Wayne and my parents and what any of them would think and I just… I’m not ready to leave this place just yet. Maybe in a couple of years, but for now, I’m not ready to leave my family, my uncle.”

Eddie hasn’t really brought up his parents before, so she knows how big of a deal it must be for him to have brought them up.

She places a gentle hand on his forearm and slowly rubs her thumb along the skin. Afraid to look Eddie in the eyes and make a vulnerable moment even more uncomfortable, she watches as Eddie brings his other hand over hers and guides it to interlock their fingers.

“I’m so sorry Eddie.” Y/N squeezes his hand.

“You don’t have to be.” Eddie says in a comforting voice as he sandwiches her hand between the both of his.

The two are silent for a moment before Eddie adds, “I think I might want to get out of this trailer though, stop being such a burden on my uncle.”

“Eddie, I’m sure that’s not true.” “Eh, it kind of is though. I mean imagine barely making ends meet and still having another mouth to feed. He’s not even a parent but for the past several years he's had a kid to worry about. I don’t want to be that anymore. I just want to be like a normal nephew and uncle. I–” Eddie chokes and squeezes Y/N’s hand.

He clears his throat and in a strong voice says, “I want to stop being a fuckup and finally make him proud.”

Y/N gasps and tightens her grip on his hand. “Eddie–”

“Shh.” Eddie shakes his head. He breathes in deeply. “I just need to graduate. And then, I’ll get a job and I can get my own place. Maybe even upgrade the busted old van outside, but not too soon though. She’s been with me through too much.”

“Your van is a she?” Y/N laughs.

“Yes, she is. She’s my old girl.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and Eddie chuckles. “Guys are so weird about their cars.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“I’m very much not.”

“Whatever you say, smarty pants.”

Eddie squeezes Y/N’s hand and she looks at him. “So, what about your band?”

“What about my band?” Eddie smiles and cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“Is there anything you want for your band’s future?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? There’s gotta be something,” Y/N looks up at him, “You have a gift that needs to be shared with the world.”

Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know. I never thought of it like that before.”

“Eddie, you could perform in front of hundreds of adoring fans every night. Don’t you want to hear girls screaming, we love you Eddie, from the mosh pit of every arena across the country?”

“Only if you’re one of them,” Eddie pinches Y/N’s cheek. She giggles and swats his hand away.

“Sure, if you ever have a gig in Chicago, let me know and I’ll be there.”

“So tell me smarty pants, why Chicago?”

Y/N shrugs and giddily replies, “Oh, lots of reasons. We visit a lot because we have family there and every time I go I fall more and more in love with the city. The people there are so cool and at night the skyline lights twinkle like stars. It's beautiful. Everything about the city makes me feel alive. I feel like I can be myself there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nods and smiles. “It doesn’t hurt to be too far from here either.”

“Oh so the big Chicago hot-shot is gonna come back and grace the presence of us Hawkins common folk?”

“Shut up Eddie, it’s not even like that.” Y/N leans to the side to shove Eddie.

“You’re gonna get into that school Y/N, I just know it. You’ll be the best thing to come out of this town.”

Y/N looks up into Eddie’s eyes, sparkling in the low light of the lamps in his room. “Thanks Eddie… You’re gonna make your uncle proud–you’ll make all of us proud too, I know it.”

Eddie smiles at Y/N. His lips pulled tight to create a dense dimple by the corner of his mouth. A comfortable silence falls between them.

All of a sudden, Y/N feels a tightening in her chest. She can’t breathe properly. He’s too close. Talking could distract her before, but now that there’s silence, all she can focus on is the feeling of his leg against hers. Of the warmth and weight of his hand in hers.

He shuffles his torso slightly to face her and his arm rubs against her. She looks down at the newly created empty space between their arms.

“Y/N,” Eddie softly calls out. Y/N looks up and her breath hitches from how close his face is to hers.

“Yeah,” she replies barely above a whisper. She looks between his warm chocolate eyes. His eyes flicker from her lips and settle on her own bright eyes.

Is this going to happen?

Y/N’s palms are sweating and her heart is pumping loudly and violently in her chest.

A part of her is afraid and nervous and not yet ready for this to happen. But the other part of her is the opposite.

She hadn’t realized it till this very moment. If anyone was going to be her first kiss, she would want it to be Eddie. But would he even want to kiss her? What is happening? If Eddie is going to do something, he needs to do it now and take Y/N out of her misery.

He opens his mouth and closes it. His eyes flash to the side and he gulps. “I should probably take you home now. Don’t want you to miss curfew.”

If Eddie’s not mistaken, a look of disappointment crosses Y/N’s features quickly before she covers it with a mask of neutrality.

“Oh, yeah, ok,” she nods and looks at her watch. It’s fifteen till 7:00. Of all times for Eddie to be more concerned about following the rules than Y/N, why now?

“Let’s go,” Eddie taps the back of her hand with his free one and unravels their intertwined fingers. Eddie rises and walks to the door. Y/N stays back for a second, not yet ready to leave this room, this trailer, or this surreal moment.

“Y/N,” Eddie smirks from the doorway. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Y/N quietly nods and follows him. She silently grabs her things from the kitchen and follows Eddie out the door. She walks over to the van and hears the grass crunch beneath her feet. As she waits for Eddie to lock the trailer door and unlock the van, she looks around and sees the glare of the yellow street lights cast over the metal of the trailer.

The two climb into the van and Eddie starts the car. He puts a tape into the deck and pulls out of the trailer park. Y/N watches his slender fingers on the steering wheel as the shadows dance across them.

She feels solemn as he drives her back home. She doesn’t want to be going home and leaving Eddie just yet. She doesn’t want this to be the last time she ever rides in his van or hears his heavy metal blasting through the speakers.

The trailer park is all the way in East Hawkins, so the drive to her house is long, but not long enough.

“That wasn’t too bad, right?”

“What wasn’t too bad?” Y/N turns to look at Eddie with a red glow cast on his skin by the stoplight.

“Having to work with the freak,” Eddie points to himself, “On a simple chemistry assignment.”

“Eddie, you shouldn’t call yourself that. You’re not a freak.”

“Yeah, well that’s the thing about nicknames, they’re given to you and they’re pretty hard to get rid of,” Eddie shrugs.

“Well I don’t care. You’re not a freak to me. Annoying? Sure. A deranged metal head? Maybe. But definitely not a freak.”

Eddie chuckles and the sight of his joy makes Y/N smile.

“Eddie,” Y/N says as he turns into her subdivision. “Today was fun.”

He looks at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N grins at him. “Maybe we can still do something fun… to celebrate a job well done on this assignment.”

“You want to?” Eddie looks at her from his peripheral vision.

“Yeah. If you do too.” Y/N smiles at her lap. She looks up and sees the houses leading up to her own.

“Yeah, sure. You got anything in mind?”

As Eddie passes her house, she sees her fathers car in the driveway.

“My dad’s home,” Y/N says with alarm as Eddie parks in front of her house. “I think he’s inside already, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

“What?” Eddie shifts his body to face her and her frazzled state.

Y/N unbuckles her seatbelt and grabs her backpack. “Are you free on Saturday?”

Eddie had plans with some of the boys from Hellfire club but they could wait. “I can be.”

Y/N looks from her house to Eddie. “Good. We’ll pick back up on this tomorrow, before class, okay?”

Eddie nods. Y/N looks at the dashboard and the time reads 6:58. She looks over her shoulder and sees no one standing outside her house or peeking through the blinds of the living room windows.

She turns back around to face Eddie. She looks at him for a moment, gathering the nerve to do something she might end up regretting. Eddie notices and looks at her in confusion.

Okay, it’s now or never.

She grabs the back of his seat for leverage and leans over. She lightly places a hand on his neck for stability and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight Eddie,” she whispers inches away from his wide eyed and slack jawed face.

She scrambles to get out of the van before he can even say anything. She shuts the door behind her and runs across the walkway to her front door.

She opens the door and closes it behind her. To the right, her parents are loudly talking over some story on the news playing several feet from the left of her.

“I’m home,” Y/N shouts, “Gonna go to the restroom and I’ll be back down.”

Her parents wave her off and Y/N excitedly pounces up the steps. She throws her backpack on the floor of her room and runs off to the bathroom across the hall.

She giggles at her reflection and brings her fingers to her lips.

She doesn’t know what came over her, but it did. She kissed Eddie Munson, on the cheek though. But it’s the most she’s ever done in her life.

She hopes he liked it but starts to worry he might not have. She shakes the worry out of her head and smiles. Little does she know, Eddie’s been dying to make a move but was 100% certain his advances would have been rejected.

Y/N doesn’t know what any of this means for her and Eddie, but it thrills her nonetheless.

She keeps her composure throughout dinner, but once she excuses herself to go do homework in her room, she closes the door behind her, lays on her bed, and screams into her pillow with glee.

She climbs out of bed and turns on her portable radio. Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears plays and she begins dancing around her room. Her eyes land on a hairbrush on her dresser. She grabs it and uses it as a microphone while singing to herself in the mirror.

When the chorus comes back on, she lies back on her bed and sings:

Something happens and I'm head over heels

I never find out until I'm head over heels

Something happens and I'm head over heels

Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart

Don't, don't, don't throw it away

“Y/N,” Y/N’s sister yells as she opens the door. Y/N scrambles to sit up and looks at her in embarrassment.

“Turn that crap down,” she says as she walks over and lowers the volume. “It’s annoying as hell.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at her sister as she walks out of the room and leaves the door open.

“Can you at least close the door?” Y/N yells over at her in the hallway.

Moments like this are what make Y/N wish she had a walkman.

Y/N spends the rest of her evening completing homework for other classes while intermittently replaying the time she just spent with Eddie.

By the time she lays in bed, ready to go to sleep, visions of Eddie behind his guitar or his big brown eyes and bright smile flash across her mind. Her heart can’t wait to see him again tomorrow. She doesn’t know what they’ll do next time they hang out either, but all that matters is that she’s with him.

It’s weird, feeling the way she does. And a part of her almost feels silly. How did this boy just come into her life and already made this much of an impact?

Y/N doesn’t understand her attraction to the deranged metalhead and in a similar way, Eddie doesn’t understand his attraction to the smartypants girl next door, but the both of them are eager to find out why.

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

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900 followers short celebration 🎉 (Part 2)

I want to thank each one of you for following, for leaving ♥️, for sharing your thoughts and reblogs! It means absolutely everything to me ✨this is crazy, I never imagined I would get more than five, let alone this many.

But beyond the number, I’m very grateful for the beautiful and kind people I’ve been able to meet here. Really lovely mutuals sharing incredible stories that make my day go a million times better and take my mind off of worries, stress, etc. So thank you for the chats, for the laughs, for the learning, for sharing bits of your day to day with me, for listening to my non-sense as well. 🥰 You’re a shining light ⭐️

I still have some requests in my to-write list, so this celebration will be sharing some fics recommendations of mind-blowing stories written by the best fandom. (There are so many great stories so I will keep it down to one per writer) and I highly encourage you to stop by and read them if you haven’t -leaving the proper tip (also know as your thoughts, comments, reblog) it’s highly appreciated.

This is my master list in case you want to take a look around, who knows? Maybe you’ll find a story you haven’t read yet 🥰 I write for Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders), Cillian Murphy and some of his characters like Robert Fischer (Inception), Scarecrow (Batman), Lenny Miller (Anna movie), Emmett (A quiet place), etc

Last but not least, my recommendations to read (in no particular order)

Story share - proposed by @zablife (on going) each chapter is written by a different writer and trust me, you will want to get some snacks to enjoy the show 😉

Midnights -by @madame-wilsonn This series is just starting, I’m curious to see where this is going, join Tommy through the memories from the war, see by yourself the struggles he has to deal with.

All apologies - by @gypsy-girl-08 One mistake broke apart Tommy’s family, a thousand apologies won’t be enough to get back what he lost. The perfect mix of everything smut, angst, love…

Tachipen - by @zablife (series on going) This story will take us along reader when she moves to the Shelby house because her father lost a flip coin against Tommy and she starts to take care of the Shelby kids.

Betrayal - by @cillmequick (on going) You’ll find the perfect amount of angst, the war between the Shelby’s and the Changretta’s is about to get ugly.

Birmingham - by @runnning-outof-time get to see as reader escapes from her family gang and ends up in Small Heath with no other than the Shelby family, there will be angst and mystery.

The boy in the window - by @notyour-valentine (series) I’m fascinated by this story and how little Emma takes us by the hand to meet Charlie Shelby, the boy who her mum thought was an imaginary friend.

Misery loves company - by @shelbydelrey Tommy is sleeping with Arthur’s wife, follow their forbidden relationship and get ready to gasp constantly as you read!

Getting away with murder - by @theshelbyclan Join Teddy in one of her adventures, she will find out becoming a stylist isn’t the best idea, but at least Tommy wasn’t her target.

Dear Sister - by @l1-l4 Intriguing story about Grace’s sister, who happens to marry Tommy… loving it from the start!

A kind heart by @forgottenpeakywriter The relationship between Charlie and his sister will melt your heart, fluffy Tommy included.

Family ties - by @peakyscillian follow reader and Tommy’s story, they met at a gentlemen’s strip club, Tommy wants to help her out…

Birdcage - by @raincoffeeandfandoms Corrupt a wish stories will never be the same after you read this. (I don’t want to spoil anything, just read it!)

Prima ballerina - by @padfootdaredmetoo Loved the whole ballet idea, and the story is amazing!

Destiné à Être by @the-forest-witchh Remus Lupin story, if you’re a Harry Potter fan this is your story

The library - by @evita-shelby Tommy realizes the only way to shut you up is… 🤫 💋

Men with blue eyes and dark hair by @dandelionprints Tommy jealous of his brother for being close to Y/N, will he ruin the only chance to share his real feelings?

Christmas traditions - by @midnightmagpiemama get festive with Charlie and Tommy while decorating for the Christmas festivities! Lovely details. A lot of fluffy content!

Plus two recommendations @heidimoreton shared with me and I loved it!

Freedom / Poison

Tagging some lovely mutuals I adore 🥰 @lyarr24 @ange-thoughts @imichelle-l-rigby @heidimoreton @thesoldiersminute @theshelbyslimited @peakyv @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @allie131313 @lovemissyhoneybee @kittycatcait219 @already-broken144 @babaohhhriley @cillixn @sloanexx @kittycatcait219 @lespendy @moral-terpitude @theshelbyslimited @rangerelik

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evakuality · 1 year

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4 years of Druck s3 - week 6

Things of note in this episode:

1. As always, this clip is always the one that gets to me this week. It’s partly the song which plays over the entire thing because I love it so much, but partly also it’s a moment where things seem to turn from the sadness of the earlier parts of the week into something more hopeful. Even when Matteo was making connections, there was a melancholy in him. But once he fixes his phone and re-engages with the world, it’s a turning point and I love it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s when Matteo manages to reconnect with his life via his phone that he gets this small sign from David. This is just that moment in the week when I’m able to let my breath out and it’s such a relief.

Which is good and necessary because we start out with these parts:

2. He’s just so lost at the start of the episode and so actively pushing everyone away. He’s so deep in this hole that it feels like so much more than just a few days between Matteo’s world crashing down and the relief of that Thursday clip. Part of that is because there was such a gap between Friday and the clip where he’s festering in his bedroom, but a lot is to do with how much his state of mind is sold here. The acting is, as usual, so very good.

3. Can we talk about Amira for a moment - she’s such an interesting character. Here she comes across as a bit harsh. Of course, that’s partly because we see this from Matteo’s PoV. He’s so down and we know why so we sympathise with him. But she’s so justified in her actions. They made a plan to meet up (and ok he didn’t get her reminder because his phone was shattered but he did agree to the original plan), he has clearly been smoking heavily and is completely absent from the conversation, he’s done no work and she’s only doing all this to try to help him. Of course, from her side it looks bad. Plus, she’s heard about Sara and how messed up she is, and to Amira, this looks like Matteo just not taking things seriously and even brushing them off. But she’s a genuinely kind person and so when she is part of the (horrifically awful, but I won’t go into that again) series of chats casually discussing Matteo’s sexuality and outing him, she shows that she gets where his head is at and goes from ‘he’s a shitty slacker’ to ‘oh, poor thing’ - one thing I love is that she is shown to be someone who can reevaluate her actions and reconsider. And of course, this allows the lead in to the discussion they have at the cafe and the reconciliation.

4. Of course, we also have the other small moments of connection that lead Matteo toward a better, more considered look at himself:

From Hanna’s gentle reminder that a) she doesn’t hate him (something he really needed to hear) and b) that she’s in something of the same boat (not knowing where her life is going), through his dealer’s suggestion that actually we need people and isolating ourselves is unproductive to Jonas’s really beautiful acceptance of him - we get a progression to a place where Matteo can feel happy (or happy-ish - we see that he is not quite all there through the next few episodes). I want to talk a little more about Jonas here. We saw in the ‘throwing the boys out’ clip that he’s worried about Matteo but also that there’s no point in trying to push him further. So he puts the ball into Matteo’s court and allows him to come to him when he’s ready. And when he is ready, Jonas does two things - he talks about his own experiences after Hanna and what helped him, and he quietly allows Matteo to open up to him. He is such a good friend to Matteo and I just really love what they did with this scene. It’s subtly different from the original in a way that makes sense for Matteo and which allows him to reflect and start to take some of this on board as we go into the next episode.

This really is an episode of two halves and I’m grateful that we got the resolution to the very rough start in the same episode because boy was it difficult to live through in real time.

#druck #og druck #anniversary rewatch

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dimpledpran · 9 months

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~ getting to know your BL mutuals ~

Rules: answer the questions and @ some people. Include the tag ‘g2ky BL mutuals 2022’ on your post so we can find everyone’s answer.

Thank you for the tag @morkofday ! As always, i enjoy reading your thoughts. Not al all surprised about how VV is basically your personality at this point.

Disclaimer: I am going to talk about series that I watched this year, and not just those that were released this year. I really didn’t watch all that much this year.

What have been the BLs that took you by surprise this year?

Bad Buddy: Really went into this with no expectations, and honestly I still don’t understand what made me watch this halfway through while it was airing, but best decision I made. (Well I kinda do regret not watching it from the start) It just completely consumed me. I love Patpran so much. They have taken over my brain and heart. I love how this series has such a good mix of humour, angst and is also more real/relatable with the issues they address.

Not Me and The Eclipse: Lumping this together here because I really did not expect any BLs that would address such heavy themes. I just wish they were handled a bit better.

Dew The Movie: I did not know anything about the movie going in, so watching what happened really threw me off. But it was a nice/wild ride.

Kieta Hatsukoi: Aoki and Hashimoto really stole my heart. I love how chaotic and hopeless they are. They were so dramatic but also quite relatable! 😂

What have been the BLs that you felt a bit disappointed with this year?

KinnPorsche: Maybe it’s because I had too much hope going in, or because it was so hyped up. Or maybe because I had a lot of personal stuff going on when it was airing, but I just couldn’t get involved with the series. The finale ended up confusing me instead of giving me conclusions, and I’m not really a fan of that. Thanks to friends on discord that helped me understand it a bit better. Though this series introduced me to Jeff Satur and I’ll forever be grateful for that!

The Eclipse: This series started out with so much potential! The pace was brilliant, the cast was incredible and they really were trying to address the hard topics in a metaphorical manner. But towards the end, it really started to show that they didn’t have enough time with the planning and post-production. It felt like such a rushed ending and was honestly disappointing. It could have been the top of the year if handled better.

What has been your favorite BL (watched) this year?

Bad Buddy: This is my ultimate BL at the moment. Not even for the year, but generally speaking. I Fell in love with PatPran. Pran is so damn relatable, like I’ve never identified with a character as much as I do with him. I can go rambling for days about BB, so I shall stop her and not bore people with my BB brainrot.

Vice Versa: As much as I am mad that we didn’t get a proper development/conclusion for TessTun, I still enjoyed this series. It was all the more enjoyable with all the screaming with Vish. But also as a very visual person who loves colours, this show stole my heart. I loved the colours and the visuals in this series. The locations were all so new and beautiful! As a sucker for a soulmate AU, I loved their twist on that trope! And of course Jimmy and Sea stole my heart.

The Eclipse: Yes, i know I said I was disappointed with it, but I also really enjoyed it. The ending did feel very rushed. But other than that, it was a really good series. The cast did a brilliant job! Like I knew they can all act, but honestly I was so impressed with their skills!! Khaotung and First had the most beautiful breakdowns, Khaotung also sold the bad boy attitude in the first 5 minutes when I was so used to seeing him as the sweet little brother character, and it was so refreshing to see a new side to Neo! So yes, I’d watch it all over again just for them! Also they did deliver a few surprises, so that was interesting.

Not Me: Again, I feel like the ending could have been more polished. It really showed that they were rushing with the filming and airing. GMMTV needs to stop rushing them and airing shows while they are still filming. It really destroys the quality. But it did well to address the heavy topics! Of course I love seeing OffGun in anything, but they truly had an amazing cast. I couldn’t stop looking at Mond, Sing, First and Gawin. Also I Fell in love with Film. This series also felt so real because it showed how life is very unjust, and it showed the problems of the common people. So it was very refreshing to watch.

Semantic Error: I loved how chaotic and awkward this was. Sang Woo is my precious child and I will protect him. It’s a simple plot, but they did well with it. Loved the balance of humour and drama. Also loved the editing in this show.

Badhaai Do (Technically not a BL, but it counts):

3 Will Be Free (Again not technically a BL, but it counts):

Favorite BL couples (not just of 2022)?

Patpran (Bad Buddy), Wangxian (CQL), PeteKao (Dark Blue Kiss), Gao Shi-de and Zhou Shu-yi (We Best Love), Wenzhou (Word Of Honour) [Is it obvious that I have a type? ]

What’s your non-BL favorite (watched) this year?

55:15 Never Too Late:

10 Years Ticket:

#apparently I did this last dec but just left it in my drafts?#it’s clearly not finished but I’ve been trying to clear my drafts so just posting this out as it is #tag game

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magnetothehedgehog · 1 year

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My posts and content

Sometimes I’m like oh man because I don’t get much interaction on my posts. Like I get it, I have a cap on my artistic ability at this point in my life and its hard for me to be consistent at stuff. Regardless of the mental issues surrounding that its a fact I’m not denying or faulting anyone for it. Not expecting a bunch of random people to take the time to interact or comment if they don’t want to. Same with friends. I mean yeah I know not all my posts or content is gonna be for everyone. And If my friends don’t want to comment or reblog or interact with that content whether it be me showing off ocs or anything else even if it kinda makes me sad sometimes thats their decision and I respect it. Its their choice to make.

But I’m not gonna play around it can be kinda disheartening to when your pals don’t ever interact much with your post not even a passing comment, especially when you are always trying to support them or their works or interact with them. I do get it comes down to personality types and its not to single any one person out. But its like wow I though you guys would nod at a least a couple of these things. Oh well...algorithm probably isn’t helping them find my posts. To their defence, they at least reblogged my commissions sheet when I needed it, so I can count on them when it matter in that case, which I’m grateful. I have become fully aware, and even more aware since twitter that probably most of the sonic fandom wouldn’t find my iterations/ideas for the sonic cast their cup of tea or even something they’d get on board with. Thats just how things are with the majority of things for most people I guess. But I really do feel like a far outlier a lot of times. Like their really isn’t many if any that have a similar idea feeling for the characters or the ideas for the series.

for some ideas I realize they’ve been done before. Heck IDW has done a very good job of incorporating all these random cool little details like I wanted to do, they even did the classic to present iterations using a classic sonic to modern sort of grow along like I had wanted to do. Well honestly they have essentially and continue to accomplish everything for the series I wanted to do.Even started trying to hone the sonic lore into one single timeline(which I was realllyyy trying to do). It feels great to see if but It also makes me feel a little sad, 1. because though small, I had the idea that I was novel in my silly little ideas and silly little things I incorporated from random sonic lore into the main canon for my series. 2. Because it kinda feels like if someone was in a group project and they all contributed ideas and you contributed ideas with your heart and you see the project presented with your ideas but you weren’t invited to present with the rest of the group and you don’t really get any credit or interaction or anything out of it. of course this isn’t the case because I’ve never worked with or been in contact with anyone at IDW in my life (to my knowledge) and although I’ve told tons about my story I the chances they went on to work at IDW are incredibly slim.

These are just my won gripes I’m working through. I’m grateful entirely for seeing them do such great things with the series and its been a joy to read. I just can’t help how I feel sometimes. Its like I’m watching them live a dream I wanted but don’t get to be a part of. But its true with all these mental issues, lack of resources and the situation I probably wouldn’t have had much to offer. Except lore master I think I could’ve maybe done that I’m very much into lore. But they only made it for people in cali and broke my heart :( if it was remote maybe I could have done it. Need to get me some therapy when I land a job again.

#author mumbles

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zyrenebasan · 2 years

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Open Diary Entry #1

09/29/22

Hi! It's me Zy and this is my open diary. So I started writing this diary series because I wanted to express my thoughts or more like myself, a person that no one else may not know. Growing up I wasn't really that kind of a person that can express her thoughts through talking because it made me really uncomfortable. I grew up not telling my heart breaks to anyone but myself and to God. I always thought that I can heal myself by not including other people's opinion about my feelings. My friends would always try to help me express my heart breaks to them and will assure me but it felt awkward to me. Sometimes I thought that I don't actually deserve these people because of how they show their patience towards me. But yeah here I am. I wanted to do this for a long time but I don't really have the courage to show myself yet but this morning I just thought and felt that I am ready to express myself, to show the people around me the thoughts that keep me alive, thoughts that bothers me and thoughts that hurt me. So Let's start!

I grew up in a family where discipline is the most important aspect of living. Some people may say that it was hard living in a disciplined family because we could not do anything we wanted to do and that our actions were so limited that it made us feel breathless. Let me tell you first the things I felt when I was still in elementary school. Back then I never really felt that my parents were strict to me because I was actually just minding my own feelings. What I was aware of was that everyone was scared of my mama. At that time I thought that maybe they're scared of her because she always has that scary frowning face look but like for me it wasn't really scary at all. My friends and cousin would always tell me that my mama is actually strict to me and that I'm the only one who actually does not notice it and I would always think like what are these people saying?

Going to high school I started recognizing the feeling of being disciplined or more like having a strict parent. I remember cursing to my head because we are not allowed to curse (ps. I don’t curse now), well until now we still don't like hearing curse words. I was never really the rebel type of a child because I always thought that obedience is a key to have a peaceful life but everything changed when I entered high school. I met a lot of people that inspired me and also hurt me but like they said, life goes on. Being in high school made me feel different kinds of emotions and it also gave me different kinds of experience that I may say, was normal. I learned to recognize what I am and what the people around me actually contributed in my life. Not only that but this was the time I learned to conceal and hide my feelings to others, I don't know when it started and how I started detaching myself when people would start talking about feeling but yeah this was it. As time went by my feelings became cold, I don't actually know why but I eventually became the person that I am right now.

Let’s get back to my parents being strict, when I was in high school it made me feel suffocated but after entering my senior year it made me realize that my parents were actually just helping me to avoid bad circumstances in life. That very moment that I realized that my parents were just helping me nurture myself made me grateful for having strict parents and a disciplined family. Some may say that I lost a lot of chance to have fun being with my friends because my mama would not allow me to go out but I may say that I was grateful that she did not allow me to get in trouble with my friends. I met a lots of friends that can ruin my life but my mama helped me to move forward and continue my life without them and I will always be grateful for that. Going back to when I was in 10th grade I met a few amazing people that I did not imagine helping me in everything that I've gone through. The patience that my mama and friends gave me is not measurable that until now they are still by my side waiting for me to open up to them. So I guess I will end this entry for now but I hope to continue opening up to you guys.

#zyOpenDiary #openingup #Friends #highschool #concealing

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lindsaywesker · 2 years

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Yesterday was very difficult but immensely satisfying. I didn’t sleep well on Sunday night so, throughout the day, I was lacking in energy and, at times, virtually drowsy, but I pushed through and achieved all my tasks. I didn’t really feel like doing much of anything, but I stayed focused. You know what’s it like; sometimes the inspiration just ain’t there. So, bravo me! As they say, another day, another dollar.

This Saturday, I’m going to a pub on Tottenham High Road to get involved in some jubilee celebrations organised by a very special woman. I don’t talk about her very often but, today, I’m going to. This woman has asked me to play a six-hour set from 7.00 until 1.00. I’ve never played for six hours before but, because she asked me and because I love her, I have agreed. I’m not sure I would play six hours for just anyone. I already have a playlist of very long songs; in case I need to powder my nose! So, let me tell you about The Temptress Of Tottenham, Theresa ‘Tee’ Mills. I appreciate her greatly because she’s always been a supporter of my work. She’s bought all my books, read all my books, reviewed all my books and, for that, I am very grateful. ‘The Crap Husband’s Guide To A Successful Marriage’ actually played a role in her relationship! She says, once Devon had read it and digested it, his attitude completely changed! Theresa is all about local community and, as it’s a jubilee celebration, she’s asked me to devote time to British black music and, as that’s one of my specialist subjects, I have a special playlist for that too! Despite her being a Spurs fan, I love her very much, so I’m looking forward to helping her with her day and, if you’re anyone near The Bricklayers Arms (803 High Road, Tottenham) on Saturday, stick your head in!

The Trouble and I were watching the episode of The Big Bang Theory where Howard and Bernadette get married. Naturally, a funny, romantic and quite emotional moment. The reason that show was so successful was, yes, they were a bunch of weird nerds, but it was also a series of love stories. That episode brought a tear to The Trouble’s eye as she remembered our wedding day, memorable for so many reasons. The reason it makes her cry is because so many people at that wedding are no longer with us and, for you, maybe it’s the same? In the years since your wedding, how many friends and relatives have now passed? Scary! We try not to dwell on it; we want our wedding to be a good memory.

If you wonder why Johnson is still in a job, he’s re-written the rules. That’s right, folks, laws and rules are not handed down by God or some omnipotent being, laws and rules are created (amended and re-written) by ordinary mortals like us. Everything Adolf Hitler did was completely legal. The Nazi Party re-wrote the book. They were abiding by the laws they had created. Johnson is not wise; he just has the authority to do what he wants. Lawmakers are not great minds; they are just in control. Be careful who you give control to; they may end-up controlling you!

My new Instagram account is up and running. If you’re a fan of the ‘gram, please follow me. I can promise you a different kind of content.

Thanks for reading all the way to the bottom of my status. Many people don’t like reading. It’s too much hard work. So, I thank you for giving me five minutes of your day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #lockdown #new blog #coronavirus #books #tuesdaymotivation #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election

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oldgooddaysoldgooddays · 2 years

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Thursday I wake grateful to be in my own hotel bed and immediately light up on the world’s smallest balcony. I go to the east village to meet with my young LA cousin who I last saw crippled by shyness at a family gathering and now, suddenly extroverted, works at a gallery. I take her to lunch and we eat salad in a surprisingly familial fashion. During, she gets a series of passive aggressive texts from a coworker, shaming her for going to lunch instead of helping carry some item or other. Who the fuck is this guy, I ask her, because I’m going to murder him. I do what I would never do in London but what serves a purpose in New York which is ask her to drop my name and say I’m family. The unfortunate subtext is that I was asked to do a show with the gallery she works at a few years ago and turned them down. I tell her I want to finish this salad and go to confront him, but I don’t because I can’t embarrass her Boiling with rage, I march to K’s apartment which looks exactly how a British person who has never travelled envisions a New York apartment: exposed brick, various kitchen appliances competing desperately for space, two chairs with the rattan seats punched all the way through. K tells me a guy I’ve never met corrected her on the pronunciation of my name that week, “actually it’s ISSSSSY” with a serpentine S. And actually he’s wrong - a beloved maths teacher invented “Issy” as my nickname when I was 9 and made sure to pronounce it with Zs, so I do too K shows me the clothes Balenciaga sent her to wear to an event at the weekend - a hoodie, a terrifying coat with exactly 33 pockets, an Asics shoe on steroids. We agree that Balenciaga is Balenciaga but it’s also all tragically well-made and on these grounds you have to love it. We walk. She needs to work, we part Dinner is at my hotel with H, N and H’s childhood friend, I. It transpires I’s dad made Beverly Hills Cop - if I bought a childhood friend to dinner they would almost certainly be the child of dentists. Also I have no childhood friends because I was an early sexual harasser. I doesn’t strictly smoke cigarettes, but instead asks for the very last two drags of each of mine. I tell him I have a friend, S, with a similar kink. A pang of remorse when I mention her reminds me I need to fucking call S. We eat sashimi on something deep fried, “ancient grains”, spinach that they’ve cooked in a weird oil. We go to a new cactus store where a gathering is taking place, someone gets a tattoo there E comes to find me and swoop me back to his apartment. I realise his incredibly large cat is a ploy to cover women with so much hair they have no choice but to remove clothing. I hate sharing a bed with anybody. E’s extremely heavy neck pulse is both annoying and compelling - neither are conducive to sleep.

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hhhecates · 2 years

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Modern AU! Genshin College Boys HCs pt 2

# — pairings: kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha

# — summary: second part of our college headcanons, this time featuring kazuha (and some more quick doodles of this pretty boy at the end). Here you can read part 1 and part 3 if you’d like.^^

# — warnings: none I think, just fluff, teasing cause kazuha is a menace, playful arguing, this came out so long I’m so sorry

# — tags: hc format, whole lot of fluff, strangers to rivals to friends to lovers kinda dynamic, college au, canon divergence

# — notes: And here we are to the next part of this series! I hope you’ll enjoy this piece as much as I enjoyed writing it. Next up is probably xiao, though if you’d like to see someone else, feel free to tell me^^

- he's a theater major with a knack for play-writing. If you thought of him as a creative writing major, you'd be partially right. He actually was double majoring in both, but he dropped creative writing because he's way too picky and whimsical with his works. He hates having to mold his writing to fit assignments criteria, even more so since while he's a very dutiful student, he also only ever writes when inspiration strikes. Kazuha knows he can't force himself to, otherwise he will never be satisfied with the product, and he's known to be a perfectionist to a degree, so that simply won't do. So now he just sticks to theater; - fun fact, his major started out as an inside joke of sorts, Tomo would always point out that Kazuha was a super dramatic person, with his impromptu lines of poetry threw here and there and his smooth and calm behavior even in the most frantic circumstances; - it peaked one day, Tomo was so done with his shit, he just went "Archons Kazuha, since when you're so much of a comedian?" raising an annoyed eyebrow at him. Kazuha just looked at him, a concoction of amusement and challenge brewing in the red of his eyes "Since now." he shrugged, clicking a few more keys on the keyboard of his laptop before looking back at Tomo with a self-satisfied smile and turning off his computer; - now, Tomo has known Kazuha only for a few years, but he knows, he knows how Kazuha can be way too well. It didn't help that they were just discussing their options for college a few minutes before; - "Kazuha, what did you do?" but Kazuha didn't answer, he merely glanced back at him with sympathetic eyes, you don't need his voice to add ‘wouldn't you like to know?’ because his gaze speaks loud enough; - if you think that's how Kazuha chose to take up theater in college, you'd be very right. Did he ever regret it? Not one bit. Kazuha is not known for his impulsivity. That, he could never be. He'd rather call it,,, spontaneousness (is it even a word?). Which he quite often indulges, but Kazuha also reckons that those kind of decisions always turn out to be the best ones he's ever taken. So you could say that he is pretty confident of his choice in theater. Looking back now, he never regretted it either, and he's actually quite grateful to that little ‘argument’ he had with Tomo and how it led to his situation now; - not that he'd ever admit it either if he didn't like it, Kazuha is (unexpectedly) petty like that, and he'd probably see it through even if he didn't like it. Out of spite to Tomo who would be just waiting for a "I told you so" moment (since Kazuha is usually the one who chides him)? Yes. - Kazuha is also a literature minor. In particular Japanese and German literature; - it used to be Japanese and French literature, cause he really loves the language, Kazuha thinks it sounds so elegant and suave. But he came to really dislike how pompous and over the top its literature can be. Doesn't help that he wholeheartedly despises Parnassianism, all that ‘l'art pour l'art’ bullshit. Kazuha hates poetry and art generally speaking whose purpose is just to look pretty and show off. Don't even get him started on la Préciosité, because Kazuha could write a whole theater play mocking it just for the hell of it. He actually thought of doing it, thinks of it as his own little revamp of 'Les Préciouses Ridicules' of Molière, he loves the dude. (This is literally canon since when Beidou asked him to perform poetry for the crew he said “only if the mood takes me, of course. Poetry for poetry's sake tends to lack meaning." and since then, mind full of Kazuha getting huffy at the mere mention of Parnasse and Wilde and such); - he now switched to German literature. He didn't think he would have liked the language as much, but he actually finds it really charming. Also German poetry is right up his alley: blunt and straight to the point, but with burning, strong metaphors and oh so prettily crafted lines. He finds law and order that give him balance but also a pawing sense of freedom and desire of understanding woven in it, something he deeply enjoys and that never fails to leave him all giddy and craving for more; - Kazuha is the kind of person that dresses in this super sophisticated light academia aesthetic. Soft neutral colours, and sometimes just a dash of a dignified red hue that could make him stand out in a crowd of thousands. Brown polished shoes always shining, big over-sized blazers he probably got in some thrift store (dragging you along with him), pretty flowy blouses and fluffy scarves that cocoon him and make him look even softer. His long hair unfailingly swept in a casual but somehow still orderly ponytail; - people look at him and they know that he is the embodiment of a humanities/literature student, like come on, he looks like he's straight out of one of those novels he loves so much; - Kazuha is legitimately everyone's crush at university, and how could you blame them? No matter that he's quite the introvert, he would still offer a polite smile and a slight nod of his head in acknowledgement to everyone on campus. He's always so polite and eager to help, lending a hand to the old librarian to sort out all the books in the literature section and so graciously offering to close up for her on the days she needs to get home early to take care of her nephews. Kazuha who stops every time he sees someone struggling to carry a heavy pile of books or bags, immediately sweeps in and carries them in their stead, his effortless kindness always managing to make him late to his own appointments, but who could be mad at him and his sheepish smile? - you. That's who. You refuse to fall for his tricks. Well- let's back track a little, shall we? You don't have anything against Kazuha, no no, absolutely not. Nope. Aside from the fact that half of your friends have an annoyingly obvious crush on him and basically give him heart eyes every time he sits in three rows of vicinity to where you're sitting during lectures. You and Kazuha share your German Lit class, and again, while being quite the introvert, Kazuha never wastes an opportunity to swoop right in and make his opinions everyone's problem known whenever the professor asks if someone would like to add something. And of course, local pretty boy has always something to say; - and today is no different. You usually don't mind too much, you actually enjoy an output that's not only your professor's, helps you see things in a different perspective and more often than not you find yourself nodding along as a bunch of students discuss about a poem or give their different interpretation of a particular metaphor and jottle down some notes for yourself. But it can become really frustrating when the sheer stubbornness of one student can stall the entire lecture until they have it their way. And of course the student in question is Kazuha. You nearly pull your hair put of your scalp as Kazuha refutes yet again one of your poor fellow classmates trying to defend the purpose of ‘die neue Sprache’ of German Symbolism in this one poem you're trying, keyword, trying to analyse;

- you're not the kind of student that brazenly takes the word to rebuke someone else, sure you have your own opinions, stand firmly behind them and would never back down if questioned, but you never felt the need to put yourself under the spotlight, expose your ideas on a silver platter for another say 100 students to turn their heads and listen to you and you only. But you also have really been looking forward to German Symbolism, one of your favourite authors was in program today, but Kazuha is still picking apart at the poem on hand, explaining in the most polite and reverent way how stupid it was for the author to write a poem about a belt buckle and compare it to words and languages (if you know this one poem, know that I love you); - so when your professor heavens a sigh and asks if there's someone else who would like to intervene (and try to shake Kazuha's unyielding opinion), you stand up from your seat, eager to wipe the expectant smirk on his face, and you start your own apologia. Two can play this game; - you end up going back and fort for the rest of the lecture, both of you refusing to back down, to give in to the other. Kazuha's known to be like that, sweet words turning sly and biting whenever he argues, though he would hardly refer to it as such, it's fun to him. And you can tell, it's fun to him to cradle words close to him and also to pry and break them open, to find a contradiction, hesitation in your thoughts. But you don't give him the satisfaction to. Kazuha is a little of the teacher's pet as well. It's not even his fault really, he's just so good that professors can't help but adore him. It's hard to come on par with someone like him. Honestly though, you just want to get your damn lecture over with, and if that's going to entail having to shut Kazuha up, then you'll gladly oblige; - after awhile, that one poem you started with, and whose name you've long forgotten, isn't even a point in your discussion at all, it's just an excuse, you know, hell, everyone knows it, because both of you are ignited in sheer competitiveness. It's a matter of pride and misery, of tattered words and unspoken stubbornness, like the entire class is your stage, for you to take, for the other students to behold, be your audience in this weird and brash dance. Heads are turning from one side to the other bemusedly, probably the students at the far back are snickering and betting on who's going to win this. Even your professor looks beyond amused. But you don't see it, don't see anything of it, you only see Kazuha, still standing from his seat across the room, in the firsts rows; - the sound of the bell, telltale of the end of the lesson, is the only thing that manages to stop you and Kazuha right in your tracks. You hold your breath, see him do the same as you throw one last glance at him before sitting back down and starting to pack up your stuff; - your little stunt isn't forgotten quite easily, next week you see some students exchanging knowing glances as they look at you taking a seat in German lit class. You're starting to regret your actions. Even more so when the professor announces a group project and purposely, because you know she did it on purpose, pairs you and Kazuha together. You groan and bang your head on the desk, so much for keeping a low profile and just following your classes; - on the bright side, the poet you are assigned is your absolute favourite. On the other hand, he's also the greatest symbolist poet in German literature, so you're going to have a field trip with Kazuha and his apparent dislike for Symbolism; - so when lecture is over, you don't waste your time trying to talk it out with Kazuha, and you bolt straight for the library, convinced on getting the project done by yourself; - it's exactly in the library that you meet him, while trying to balance three different volumes about the author of your project while reaching out for for another book of french poetry (that one just out of your own whim) on the highest shelf; - "There you are." you shriek and almost let the book fall straight on your head if it weren't for Kazuha's sharp reflexes. He swipes right in, gently takes the volume in his own hands, though when he turns it around and inspects the title, his brows furrow in obvious distaste; - he tuts disapprovingly, and you swear you're this close to let the other books fall on his feet and leave him there; - "Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse." that does get your attention, you quickly snatch the book right back, cradle it protectively against your chest, so much that Kazuha almost apologizes at the sight of you looking so fondly at a mere collection of words and paper. You could very much stomp away and never talk to him ever again, ask your professor to pair you up with someone else for this stupid project, or just notify her that you'd like to do it on your own altogether. You don't owe Kazuha anything, you could leave him there and he'd probably take the hint and don't bother you again. You could. But you don't. It's too easy, something in the back of your mind says. So you unexpectedly grab his wrist, soon receiving a questioning look from Kazuha himself, your eyes are harsh and challenging, a hint of annoyance that makes Kazuha's skin tingle, but your grip on him instead is gentle and unsure, asking for consent, he subconsciously nods his head at you, and you proceed to dragging him along to one of the tables of the library where he spots your backpack occupying one of the seats; - you don't even give him time to ask questions, and you don't question his apparent dislike for French literature either, as soon as he's sitting down, you slam open the poetry book like you know its contents by heart and present him with a poem by Pierre de Ronsard; - "Mignonne, allons voir si la rose..." he mumbles out half distracted, you can tell even in a few words, his accent is much more fluid than you anticipated, he might not like French literature, but you can tell that he at least gave it a chance, and that makes you respect him a little more; - "How quaint." he chuckles, and he doesn't say it outright, but you know what he means ‘how banal’, "Are roses your favourite flower? Is that why you like this poem so much?" his sonorous voice mocks. Ode structure, octosyllabes (typical for French poetry in that period), four verses of sixteen lines each. Metaphor of beauty through roses. Kazuha wrinkles his nose in distaste. He's seen too much of this, and pristine structures and empty pretty words just aren't his thing; - "No." you say, he looks back at you, one inquisitive brow raised "I quite dislike roses too. But when I read this poem, it makes me wonder if maybe they are my favourite flower after all." that does get his attention, he discards the book in favor for you instead, you almost shy away under his gaze, but you will yourself not to crumble. You don't answer him, again (Kazuha doesn't know if frustration or anticipation that takes over him). Instead, you present him with a new poem, one from the author you were assigned to for your project, and from the crease of his brows he probably already knows it. You try to take no offence in the way he's looking at you favourite poem of all times. 'Ich fürchte mich vor der menschen Wort', 'I am afraid of human words', admittedly, one of the poems Kazuha despites the most, to be expected really, given his affinity towards words themselves. Though he'd never admit that he never bothered reading the thing, the title was enough to keep him away. You don't ask him to read it, you just point at one of the lines in the middle of the whole poem. Kazuha wants to say there's no point in taking few words out of their pretty scheme and try to make sense of them, but he doesn't have the time to think, doesn't have the time to rebut. "Start from here. 'Ihr Garten und Gut grenzt grade an Gott.' " you recite verbatim without even looking at the page. 'You put your own 'God' to stand between 'garden' and 'good' '. Kazuha shivers, and he doesn't know if it's the desperation of your voice when you recite poetry to him, or the poetry itself, he only knows that he's suddenly afraid of the answer; - the project goes surprisingly very well from then, you'd dare say you made Kazuha change his mind from his previous stance on Symbolism, but the thought alone sounds quite preposterous. Really? Kazuha?; - after handing the final project in, you heave a breath of relief, thinking of finally going back to before Kazuha; - but you quickly find that there's no 'before Kazuha' no more. That boy simply won't leave you alone; - Kazuha who slips cheeky poetry lines in your textbooks that make your eyes widen and your cheeks heat up while he brazenly smiles at you from across the hall (how the hell did he even get access to your stuff, to this day this is still beyond you); - he gets you hooked on Japanese literature too, shows you all his favourites, recites Hokushi's haikus to you, Experimenting I hung the moon on various branches of the Pine. And he looks at you, like you are the one who hung the moon for him. Whispers to you dan 69 of the Ise Monogatari like it's you and him who share a tale of forbidden love. If you stare for too long you might just think that he's true; - Kazuha who takes you by the hand, ignoring your half-hearted protests, drags you through narrow streets, shows you the best sights, best bakeries (where he insists on buying you the pastries you have, not so secretly, been eyeing), still holding your hand as he ushers you in his favourite vintage shops, chuckling at the way your mouth gapes at the sight of so many antiques, excitedly brings you to the book section just to see your eyes sparkle at the sight of old french poetry books. He tugs on your fingers "Let's play a game, I'll buy a book that reminds me of you. You buy a book that reminds you of me, then we’ll gift it to each other." and before you can say anything, he has already disappeared behind the many shelves; - Kazuha who invites you at his dorm more often than not, whines and complains if you try to come up with excuses. He's always so much softer in the privacy of his own room, hair more often than not let down from his signature ponytail, he bleats and grumbles about how his scalp hurts from all the tugging. You card your fingers through his hair to offer him some relief, and he quickly melts into your touch, leaning heavily in your hands before completely dropping down you lap and nuzzling into you. He reminds you of the white cat his roommate Tomo is so fond of. He closes his eyes and sighs contentedly, hums when you gently scrape at his nape, his own way of silently telling you not to stop, that still doesn't help how hot your cheeks feel, but he doesn't need to know that; - it's while brushing his hair and tracing your fingers along the many piercings adorning his ears (a couple of low helix, one standard lobe piercing per ear, one of which occasionally sports a fun dangly earring that suits him way too well) that you find the tattoo sitting gracefully at the back of his neck, it's a simple maple leaf in soft hues that remind you of watercolours for the way they blend with his skin, you can't help the strangled noise that escapes your throat; - "You have a tattoo?!" you're not even guilty of the accusatory tone of your voice. Kazuha clicks his tongue, probably displeased of the fact that your fingers stopped their work on his scalp. He looks at you, one inch away from sleep. He's all slurry and cute when he's sleepy (you'd know from the ungodly amount of times he asked you to 'sleep over because it has gotten too late for you to be out') but sleepy Kazuha also happens to lose all his filters and thus be even cheekier than usual (you don't even know how that's possible to begin with); - he chuckles, deeper than his usual tone, his gaze is nothing but teasing as he looks up at you "I didn't know it was something that would find you so interested." you hand still rested in his hair, you give it a little tug for good measure as a response to his taunting, but your chiding action quickly backfires on you when Kazuha gasps breathlessly. Archons, he's going to kill you one day, one very close day if he keeps this up; - "It's just,,, something I didn't know about you." you shrug lamely, he fully laughs at that, you feel his trembling against you. "There are quite a few things that you don't know about me." he croons, hand coming to cup your chin, he had recently took up the habit to brush his thumb over your bottom lip, a gesture meant to pacify you, but really, again, he's going to kill you if he keeps this up; - "Like,,," you take a brief pause for a more dramatic effect "That you play the saxophone?" he looks at you, eyes wide in surprise, now it's your turn to laugh "You have a saxophone case in the corner of your room, and quite the stack of music sheets too. Though those seem to be written for piano." you muse, tapping your chin. The grin he offers you in response is nothing but proud at your keen observation "Good." he praises "I do in fact play both of those instruments. Though the music sheets are only for piano because I'm in a band and therefore tend to prioritize it."; - you let the information sit for awhile before speaking again. "Will you let me hear?" he hums appreciatively, turns his head to bury it in your stomach. "Do you want to?" you just nod at him, unable to conceal your excitement. He chuckles. It sounds like a promise.

Here’s some lil doodles for college kazuha^^

I got so carried away writing this-- I’m so sorry. I get like this when literature is involved. I miss taking French and German literature in high school so much ahh. Also excuse my lack of detailing when it came to Japanese literature, I’m quite rusty on that.

#kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha #kazuha fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha headcanons #kazuha imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin modern au #genshin albedo #genshin xiao #genshin aether #genshin childe #genshin venti #genshin imagines #kaedehara kazuha

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no-droids · 3 years

Text

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

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

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

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

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

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

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

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

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

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

And it was fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well. Fair.

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking abou—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–6:15am:

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

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

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

***

Day 1–7:06am:

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

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

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

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–12:00am:

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

“Wake up.”

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

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

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

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

No—

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you did. You in another tree?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t need to ask.

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

***

Day 2–5:34am:

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

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

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

Din is asleep? Seriously?

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Op. Not good. “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it. “How long?”

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

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

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

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

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

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh. What the fuck was that?

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

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

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

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

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

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

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

Day 3–12:00am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your coordinates—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t—”

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

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you. You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now. You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you. Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples. “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious. “You think—y-you think—”

“What?” You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious. Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering. He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now. “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart. He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it. You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his. He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey. “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not? What have you got to lose? Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways. What’s the worst he can do? Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days. You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you. You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table. It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

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mahoushojoe · 3 years

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hmmmmmm thinking about zia rashid

first of all...holy shit, why is her name zia? there is not a single person in egypt named zia. zia is supposedly a girl born in a rural village in upper egypt. zia is just. not a name she would have. it's not egyptian. as far as i know it's not even middle eastern. like, sometimes people really nitpick stuff when criticizing these things online but this really isn't a nitpick, like. just common sense! common sense and respect for the culture and heritage you're exploiting for your cash cow franchise. the bare minimum. you didn't even have to deeply research Common Girl Names In Upper Egypt. You could have just named her, like, Sara or something, and it would have worked just fine.

like the reason the name is such a big deal is that zia is one of like, two egyptians in a series ABOUT egypt, and yet she's just...not. she doesn't feel egyptian. through her we know nothing about egyptian culture. her name is a Not Like Other Girls name. we don't know whether she's muslim or coptic. she's the Egyptian Rep but she's just Not Egyptian, and the fact that she has the personality of a piece of cardboard doesn't help. it feels like egyptian characters are often purposely distanced from being egyptian in media like this because a) the writers don't want to put in the effort to research and b) it would force them to confront the colonial implications of the media they're writing.

her village is like, comically orientalist- rick could have looked at a map of egypt and known that absolutely nowhere in egypt do they have places named in formal arabic like that. it's called village of the red sand, right? it's given this long mysterious sounding formal arabic name as a result, and just... it's not how egyptian place names works and it's also not how any place name would work, period. a more realistic thing would be if rick had put in the work to at least get an IDEA of the egyptian dialect of arabic -better yet, the UPPER egyptian dialect. Like if the village was called Raml Ahmar it would have been like. Believable. Grounded. And like, in Zia's childhood, supposedly this entire village gets like eaten by sand or something, and... there. Nobody notices. Like if something like that happened in the US it would be a huge deal and everyone would know about it, but since egypt is this like, Desert Of Mystery, things like this just happen and nobody cares I guess.

zia herself isn't even in the books like 60% of the time. like she's either a puppet or like, in a magical coma or something, and when she IS there she's this like Quiet Strong Girl Of Few Words so she doesn't really have a personality beyond being a #girlboss. she is very open to going on dates with a boy and KISSING him at some point even though a girl from upper egypt wouldn't be caught DEAD publically doing those kinds of things, culturally speaking. on that note, zia doesn't know what a mall is. egypt has malls. zia lives in cairo iirc and cairo does, in fact, have several LARGE malls. so all this converges to show zia as this Mysterious Girl From The Third World(tm) and again, as mentioned before, to distance her from her being egyptian.

so like these all seem like nitpicky details, but they all converge to send a message: rick does not care about egyptian culture enough to research it. since the people of modern egypt are poor and brown and all the cool ancient stuff can be conveniently stolen and whitewashed, egypt has no value to him besides being an occasional setting. and it rubs salt in the already gaping colonial wound left by the british and the french and the ottomans and whoever else took a chunk out of us and left us to bleed- which is: exploit egypt for the artifacts and degrade and disrespect the rest.

i'm gonna be honest- i wasn't expecting perfect egyptian rep from a white american man and i wasn't looking for it from him either. but what grates on me is disrespect. what grates on me is laziness. tkc is probably gonna be a lot of kids' introduction to egypt and this is the message it leaves in their head; this is the mindset, that egypt is worthless and only the ancient artifacts are worth taking seriously. and then that devolves into the way tourists and expats arrive here asking to be treated like royalty and treating the locals like shit and paying them pennies. it devolves into museums refusing to give us OUR artifacts that they LOOTED during imperialism. it devolves into the microaggressions i face on the internet every day, where I cannot talk about the serious problems this country faces every day without some annoying american making a king tut reference or whatever. tkc isn't the reason behind all of this, it's far from the only media that has ever done this, it's not even the worst offender. but it feels bad to constantly see the blatant disrespect people have for you and your heritage and it feels bad to constantlyq have it relegated to a joke pop culture reference and it feels bad to be constantly spoken over.

again: im not waiting for representation from riordan or his ilk. i don't need his crumbs. but the disappointment i felt when reading about zia was real, and so was my irritation at her characterization and the way it's supposed to represent me.

tl;dr when you write a book about a colonized and exploited country and people, please afford them a little fucking respect. the bare fucking minimum. this is why i'm not at all excited for the upcoming tkc adaptation and for my own sake i won't be engaging in it, although i dread the upcoming pop culture wave that will happen as a result.

#tkc #the kane chronicles #zia rashid #egypt #rrcrit #rr crit #rick riordan #rick riordan critical #tkc crit #tkc critical #there better not be derailments and other foolishness in the notes i SWEAR to god

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jikookiekosmos · 3 years

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Stay With Me || jjk

➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader, husband!jungkook/reader

➥Summary: Being married to Jungkook was everything you’d wished for and more. There wasn’t a problem the two of you couldn’t tackle together, and building this life with the person you loved most was all you could ask for. But when a ghost from your past returns and threatens to pull you two apart in whatever way they can, will things still be the same?

➥Genre: established relationship, heavy angst (I’m so sorry), smut, fluff, hurt/comfort

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~14.2k (more of a one shot than a drabble I know, oops)

Before you continue there are darker themes explored in this drabble; please read at your own risk. Appropriate warnings are listed below.

➥Content Warnings: POV switches, feelings of anxiety from being in danger, jungkook is protective (and for good reason), we see a pissed off hoseok, (tw: harassment, violence, implied/attempted kidnapping, reader gets injured), yoongi & jimin to the rescue (bless them), jungkook is pissed off (again for good reason), jungkook cries, reader also cries, jungkook has feelings of insecurity and not being good enough, they have ✨very emotional sex✨ up against a wall, cursing (fuck is said a lot), slight hair pulling, fingering (very brief), jungkook has a big dick, unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex), dirty talk, rough sex, cumming inside, aftercare, jungkook is actually the sweetest, reader and jk are so in love with each other it hurts, also jk saying ‘only for you’ is a thing i started and can’t stop now oops except there’s a twist this time around

A/N: hello! This is part of my Only for You (OFY) Drabble series, but it can be read as a stand-alone! However, I would highly recommend reading OFY beforehand so as to better understand the relationships between these characters since there’s a lot of history behind everything that will make more sense. (I also mentioned this in the post for OFY but for those who haven’t read it, the Kun in the story isn’t referring to any other irl person specifically, it was just a name I chose to make the initial story easier to write.)

The POV switches between the reader and a few of the characters, but this will always be indicated by the name in the switch being bolded (i.e. you or Jungkook will be in bold, etc.).

I always do this but thank you to @dntaewithluv for keeping me sane during the writing process and giving me feedback as well as the motivation to continue when I feel discouraged, I love you so much 💜

I’ve written a few other drabbles and will list them below, along with a general timeline:

Use My Best Colors For Your Portrait - ~6 months after OFY

When I Dream Of You - ~1 year after OFY

This fic takes place a few months after the dream drabble. I welcome feedback, so if you ever want to talk to me about my writing, please do! I hope that if you read this, you enjoy it~

➥OFY Spotify Playlist (songs I listened to for inspo)

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @diorkookie @swee3tcreature @sugaslittlekookies @moonchild1 @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Visiting Jungkook at the bar during his shifts had become one of your favorite pastimes over the last few years. And not just because you got to see him, but also because it gave you a chance to get closer to some of his - and now your - friends as well.

Take tonight for example: you stopped by on your way home from work, and everything happened like it usually did. Jungkook’s smile was typically the first thing to greet you when you walked through the door before he and Jimin got into a playful bickering match about bar duties.

You parked yourself in your usual stool at the bar and watched the scene before you unfold - Jimin tossing one of the bar towels to Jungkook, who caught it with ease, all the while mumbling ‘less distraction and more action, Kook.’ Jungkook slung the towel over his shoulder before making a big show out of walking over to you.

“Hey pretty lady, what can I get for you tonight?” Jungkook’s voice was dripping with charm and it made you giggle. He leaned across the bar, resting his forearms on the wood. Even when he was just standing here in a plain black t-shirt with his dark hair curling in front of his eyes you still thought he was the most ethereal person you’d ever seen.

You hummed. “Hmm, I think I’ll have just a water, thanks.” Jungkook was already moving to fix your beverage before you even finished. “Do you always greet people like this,” you teased him as he sat the glass down in front of you.

He was wiping his hands on the towel still perched on his shoulder. “Nah, I only save it for the special ones. I am a married man, after all.”

You giggled again and he reached further across the bar to give you a quick kiss before being interrupted by Jimin again.

“You two are adorable, I love that, but I really could use some help over here, Kook!”

Jungkook playfully rolled his eyes before he excused himself to tend to his actual job. You just sat and observed while you drank, looking at him with loving eyes. He was really in his element here and it showed. All his customers were always happy patrons because he treated them all well.

Yeah, everything was playing out as it normally did on nights like these.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was for that to change.

On your way to find Yoongi so you could stop by and chat with him before heading home, you passed by a booth where a few rowdy men were seated. You tried to slip past them and pay them no mind-

-until one of them caught you by the wrist.

You froze. You wondered if maybe this was someone you knew and had possibly offended by not saying hello, but one look at the table let you know you’d never seen these 3 men before in your life.

“Hey, where you off to in a rush, baby?” The pet name made your skin crawl and you wanted nothing more than to just slink away and pretend like this never happened. But it was happening, the man’s tight grip on your wrist a reminder of that.

One of the other booth members spoke up. “Yeah, why not have a seat with us and talk for a bit? You look like you’re in need of some company.”

You shook your head and tried to muster a small smile so you could turn them down easy. You’d read and heard way too often about moments like these that could turn out badly if you acted a certain way.

“No thank you, I was just on my way out,” you hoped that would be the end of it, but the man holding your wrist wasn’t having it. He jerked you down to where you were seated right beside him in the empty space of the booth, making you whimper in pain when you hit the seat hard. His other friends laughed boisterously at your distress.

You situated yourself and looked up to see if you could spot someone, anyone around that you knew. You were unfortunately at the back corner of the bar, since Yoongi’s office was around here.

You tried to get up and make a break for it, but the man pulled you down again. “C’mon sweetheart, we don’t wanna hurt you. We just wanna talk, that’s all.”

Before you could respond, another voice cut through.

“Hands off,” the voice was low and stern, making all heads at the booth turn. When you looked up you saw Hoseok standing above you, arms crossed and looking pissed.

“Hoseok,” you breathed out, grateful that he was working the floor tonight and had stopped by before the situation escalated.

Hoseok didn’t say another word as his eyes drifted down to you quickly before glaring at the man still holding on to you.

“Lighten up, man, we’re just trying to have some fun-”

“I saw the whole thing and she’s clearly not wanting to engage in your idea of ‘fun’ so again: hands off.” Hoseok’s fingers flexed around his forearm, and apparently that was all the warning they needed.

The man let go of you and shoved you away from him, almost making you fall to the ground if Hoseok hadn’t steadied you. He wrapped an arm around you before calling out.

“Joon, Jin, need a hand here!”

Within seconds, the bodyguards of the establishment - also friends of yours - were at the table, looking as intimidating as ever. The 3 men still seated were starting to look a lot less pleased about the ordeal.

“I think these 3 have had it for the night,” Hoseok stated, starting to walk the both of you away so your friends could work their magic. You looked back at them one last time, just barely catching their interaction, which consisted of Seokjin promptly putting one of the men in his place when he tried to throw a punch.

When Hoseok had you seated in an empty booth at the other end of the bar, he knelt down beside you.

“Hey. You ok?” His voice had lost all its frightening timbre, now laced with nothing but concern. You didn’t realize you were still a little shaky until you noticed yourself trembling. You nodded, the best answer you could give right now.

Hoseok patted your knee before he stood up. “Stay here, I’m going to go get Kook-”

You reached out lightning fast to grab onto his sleeve before you pleaded “Don’t.”

Hoseok’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What, why not?”

“I don’t- I don’t want him to worry.” You were telling the truth; Jungkook had been on edge lately, and things were finally starting to get somewhat back to normal. If you didn’t have to add to that worry, you didn’t want to.

Hoseok’s frown deepened. “Y/N-”

“There you are!”

That voice that always managed to make your heart flutter only made you panic more in this instance. Jungkook was walking over to your booth quickly with a huge smile on his face, waving to the two of you. Hoseok moved out of the way so Jungkook could see you more, and you tried your best to smile back.

“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you,” Jungkook addressed you as he pushed his hair out of his face. “I thought you went to go talk to Yoongi, but he said he hadn’t seen you yet.”

“Yeah, I was just on my way, but I ran into Hoseok-”

“Y/N,” Hoseok warned. Jungkook’s smile turned into one of confusion.

“What’s going on,” Jungkook was quick to ask before you could respond. It was then that he fully noticed how you were seated, somewhat curled into yourself.

“You need to tell him,” Hoseok’s eyes were burning into yours, and Jungkook felt a small pit of unease settle in his stomach. He knelt down beside you, similar to how Hoseok had done moments prior.

“Angel, hey, talk to me. What’s this about?” Jungkook took one of your hands in his and shook it slightly before placing a kiss on the back of it.

“It’s nothing, really-”

“Some guy put his hands on her.” Hoseok clearly was over you beating around the bush.

“What,” Jungkook’s tone was slipping into one you didn’t recognize and for good reason: he sounded furious. His hand tightened around yours.

Hoseok nodded, Jungkook’s attention on him now. “Yeah, I’m glad I noticed. Saw some dude grab her wrist and pull her down into the booth with them.”

Jungkook was up on his feet, hand disappearing from yours.

“What the fuck, where did they go,” he started to walk off but Hoseok held him back.

“Joon and Jin already took care of it, don’t worry. But I still just thought you should know.” Hoseok patted Jungkook on the shoulder and you watched as his body, still visibly tense, relaxed somewhat.

“I gotta get back to work, you can take a little time though, yeah?” Hoseok started walking off after giving you one last look, almost as if he was saying sorry but you knew he did the right thing.

Jungkook took a deep breath before finally looking back at you, his face softening instantly. He slid into the seat across from you, placing his palms on the table as he looked down.

“Koo-”

“Are you ok, at least,” his voice was low, but you could still hear it just over the faint tunes of the jukebox.

“I’m fine-”

“Define fine,” he scoffed. It was clear the two of you wouldn’t get anywhere like this, so you did the only thing you could think to do: you reached out and took both his hands in yours.

Jungkook looked up then through the curtain of tresses still falling into his eyes. He sighed.

“Sorry, baby, I know I shouldn’t be acting like this. It’s just- with everything we’ve been through with him I can’t help but worry about stuff like this.”

You understood completely because you were in the same boat.

Both of you had recently been experiencing less than pleasant encounters with your ex-fiancé, Kun, who for some reason decided he had a vendetta against the two of you. A vendetta that only got worse when you both made it clear you wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

The past week had been pretty quiet, but neither of you could shake the awful feeling that Kun wasn’t gone for good. And tonight’s fiasco did nothing to help that.

“Well it’s over now and I’m ok and I didn’t get hurt so let’s try not to focus on it, yeah?” You squeezed his hands for emphasis and he sighed. The last thing you wanted was for Jungkook to be worried the rest of his shift, and he still had a few hours left.

“Yeah, I’ll try. I’m just so glad Hoseok was around...are you still wanting to talk to Yoongi?”

You nodded, happy to see Jungkook had relaxed some more from when he first sat across from you.

“I’ll take you to his office, then.” Jungkook got up, pulling you with him since his hands were still in yours. When you both were standing, he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you into a hug.

He looked down at you before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Also I hate to ask but do you mind staying until I get done with my shift? I’m not too keen on the idea of you going home alone now with everything-“

You giggled and caressed his cheek. “Of course, Koo. I’ll come sit at the bar when I get done talking to Yoongi.”

Jungkook brushed his nose against yours. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you responded before you reached up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. His hold around you tightened, and he deepened the kiss for only a moment before pulling back.

“Fuck, I forgot I’m at work, I need to be careful when you’re around.” He carded a hand through his hair before shaking his head to let it fall back into place.

You laughed at his flustered nature, feeling a bit flustered yourself at the fact that even now you still had such an effect on each other. “Well we are back here in a dark corner where not many people are around,” you teased.

Jungkook smirked before tickling your sides, making you laugh louder as you squirmed to get away.

“Don’t tempt me. I’d rather not get fired for public indecency if I can help it.”

“Fine, fine, I guess just take me to see Yoongi then,” you pretended to pout and were rewarded with a chuckle. He led you to the back now where Yoongi’s office was at, his hand wrapped around yours while he scanned the bar the whole way there.

When the two of you reached the familiar door, Jungkook gave your hand one last squeeze and kissed your cheek.

“I’ve gotta get back to the bar, just come chill up there when you’re done, yeah?” His eyebrows were slightly furrowed like he was still worried, but your gentle smile helped smooth them out.

“Of course. I’ll see you soon.”

You knocked on the door and after hearing Yoongi’s muffled greeting you opened it to walk through, not sparing another glance at Jungkook.

“Y/N! I was wondering when you might be stopping by.” Yoongi smiled brightly at you, always making you feel welcome no matter the circumstance. You took a seat in your usual spot across from his desk where he was currently reclining in his chair.

“Hey, Yoon. How are things?” It’d been a little while since the two of you had properly caught up since things had been so chaotic lately.

Yoongi shrugged. “Can’t complain. Business is good and we’ve been pulling in more regulars. I’d like to say it’s thanks to Jungkook but don’t tell him I told you that. Kid has a big enough head as it is.”

You couldn’t help the proud grin that stretched across your face. Jungkook had been working hard to help turn the bar into a more welcoming environment and increased his work hours to also assist with some building upgrades Yoongi had been wanting to install for years. Their business had increased exponentially as a result, so you knew Yoongi meant it when he said he had Jungkook to thank.

“I’ll be sure to keep it our little secret,” you brought your hand up to mimic a ‘shh’ expression and Yoongi chuckled.

“Perfect.” He leaned forward then, an elbow resting on his desk and his head supported by his palm. “So tell me: how’s married life?”

“It’s everything I could ever want and more. I can’t say much has changed except the whole ‘legally being bound together’ thing, since we still act the same. It’s just…nice. Really, really nice.” Your gaze drifted down to your wedding ring, and as it was with every other time you saw it, you could feel something akin to butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.

Yoongi gave you his trademark lopsided grin. “Glad to hear it. You know, I was always rooting for you two from the start.”

You feigned annoyance, playfully rolling your eyes. “I know, I know, you only tell me every chance you get.” Yoongi never took a liking to your ex-fiancé and had always favored Jungkook, this much you knew. Even before Kun turned into the person he was now, Yoongi never cared for him. And he made sure it was known.

“Have you thought about when you’re going to pop the question?” You decided to switch gears and put him on the spot, giggling at the way he seemed flustered.

“Well I uh, I’ve thought about it I just- it’s hard to figure out the right time, you know? And is she even ready for that, I can’t tell-”

“Min Yoongi, you stop that right now. She is so in love with you that I bet she’s ready for you to ask any day now, just so she can say yes like she’s been wanting to for so long now.” You had spent enough time around Yoongi and his long-term partner to know that the two were head-over-heels for each other, nearly rivaling you and Jungkook in how easy it was to tell.

Yoongi grinned. “You think so, huh?”

“No doubt in my mind. In fact-” you were cut off by the feeling of your phone vibrating in your pocket. You hastily took it out, not sure who could be calling at this hour.

It dawned on you then that you had been expecting a new client to call, and the number on your screen was one you didn’t recognize so you figured it could be them. Your boss had heavily expressed the importance of this client and their business venture they were offering, so without giving it another thought you hopped out of your chair.

“Sorry Yoon, I need to take this real quick. Do you mind if I step out the back door? It shouldn’t take too long.” You were already heading to leave his office, trying to catch the call before it stopped ringing, barely missing his soft “Go ahead.”

You bolted through the back door of the establishment, out into the dimly lit parking lot. As soon as you heard the door shut, you swiftly answered the call.

“Hello, this is Y/N speaking, may I ask who’s calling?” You gave your usual greeting for work related or other conversations when you didn’t recognize the number. The silence that you were met with on the other end made a chill run down your spine.

You froze altogether when the other voice spoke.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to answer calls from numbers you don’t know?”

You felt your lower lip tremble. “K-Kun?”

A dark chuckle from the other end of the line. “Missed me, sweetheart?”

‘Just hang up,’ your brain was screaming at you, but you were holding your phone in an iron-tight grip, knuckles taut.

“Leave me alone and never contact me again,” you were finally able to respond, moving your arm to bring your phone down to hang up.

Your phone hit the ground before you got the chance.

Someone had come up behind you and pulled both arms behind your back, a hand coming around to muffle the scream you let out.

“Shhh,” someone whispered beside your ear. “You don’t want to make this harder for yourself, hm?”

That voice, why did you recognize that voice?

The person started dragging you off into one of the darker corners of the parking lot, ignoring your futile attempts to kick and writhe out of their grasp. You continued screaming into their palm but to no avail.

When you reached where they wanted you to be, they let you go and pushed you down onto the ground, causing your back to hit the wall and briefly knock the breath out of you. Before you could pick yourself back up, 2 other shadowy figures blocked your path. There was just enough light for you to finally make out the faces of the 3 people standing over you.

They were the same ones from earlier in the bar, the ones who had harassed you and yanked you down into their booth.

“What do you want,” you sobbed out into the night air. You were too terrified to try screaming again, afraid of what they might do. Especially now that you were across the lot, away from your phone and any chance of contacting someone else. Not to mention the fact that it was loud inside the bar, so screaming wouldn’t do you many favors anyway.

And if someone walked by, nothing would look out of the ordinary since it was just dark enough where you were to obscure the vision of anyone looking from the outside.

Before any of them could answer you, there was another sound you heard faintly in the distance: footsteps.

“Hel-,” you started to cry out, but as if they knew what you were planning, one of the men dropped down and covered your mouth again, now letting you see who was approaching behind them. Your eyes widened in terror as you took in the newcomer’s sinister grin.

You watched as Kun nodded to the other 2 men and they moved aside, while the third one still keeping your mouth covered moved slightly out of the way. Kun knelt down and moved his hand, replacing it with his own before you could scream again.

“Well well, fancy seeing you here.” Kun reached out and caressed your check with the back of his other hand, making you let out a strangled whimper as you tried to move back and away from him. He shook his head at your action and grabbed onto one of your arms now instead, pulling you and himself up in a swift motion.

His grip around your arm was painful, making you wince. Kun either didn’t notice or didn’t care. One look into his eyes was enough to see that the man you’d spent many years of your life with was completely gone with no trace left whatsoever. You didn’t know this person standing in front of you now.

And you didn’t ever want to.

“Now, I’m gonna move my hand, and you’re not gonna scream. Got it? Because if you do,” he moved forward to where his face was inches away from yours now. “I promise this will be so much worse for you. And you know I always keep my promises, don’t you?”

Kun was laughing before you could react at all, knowing good and well he’d broken several promises during your time together. He must have taken your silence as compliance because you could feel his hand relaxing around your face.

“Good girl,” the words made you shudder repulsively, wanting nothing more than for this to be just a terrible figment of your imagination and for you to be back inside at the bar waiting on Jungkook.

Jungkook. The thought of him caused a lump to form in your throat. You had no idea what Kun had planned for you, and that caused your heart to constrict as the vision of Jungkook smiling lovingly at you flashed through your mind.

You squeezed your eyes shut and felt a tear roll down your cheek. You opened them again once you felt Kun’s hand disappear.

“Ah, so you can take direction well. I guess Jungkook’s trained you somewhat since you’re his bitch now-”

“What do you want,” you asked through gritted teeth. The last thing you wanted to hear come from this man’s mouth was the name of your beloved. You didn’t want him brought up at all, the less this was focused on Jungkook the better.

But, since it was Kun, that obviously didn’t happen.

Kun laughed again, a loud, ugly sound. “What do I want? The same thing I’ve always wanted. Isn’t it obvious?”

The 3 men were crowded around both of you now, and it dawned on you then that they were blocking any means of escape for you. That didn’t bode well for you and you knew it, but you held your ground. You didn’t want to give Kun any more of the upper hand than he already had.

Kun finally dropped his other hand from your arm in favor of now caging you in against the wall. You were trapped even more now, but you just stared back at him, trying your best to look unfazed. Kun dipped his head down and you held your breath.

“What I want,” you could feel him barely hovering over your lips and the feeling made your skin crawl, “is for Jungkook to pay.”

“Pay for what,” you couldn’t help your annoyed tone. Kun’s obsession with Jungkook and ‘coming out on top’ – whatever that even meant, you weren’t entirely sure – had gotten old and you were beyond sick of it. “He owes you nothing, we owe you nothing.”

Kun hummed and shook his head, his nose almost brushing against yours, but you turned your head and let it graze against your cheek.

”I don’t think you get to decide that, not in the position you’re in, anyway. You see, I’m tired of seeing Jungkook get literally everything handed to him without trying-”

“Jungkook has worked hard for everything he has, something you wouldn’t know about,” you spat back. Kun was right, you were certainly in no position to be talking back right now, but you wouldn’t stand idly by while he slandered Jungkook just because he felt like it. “You’ve always been jealous of him-”

“Shut up, shut up!” Kun snarled, all but yelling in your face before he grabbed you by the jaw. You grimaced from the pain of it, a sound something like a scream starting but dying in your throat.

“You fucking infuriate me sometimes, you know that? I can’t believe I wasted so many years with you.” His grip around your jaw tightened as he finished talking, making it almost too hard for you to respond.

“Likewise,” you managed to get out, not being able to help the sob you let out when he squeezed more.

“Doesn’t matter.” Kun’s face stretched into that evil, Cheshire-like grin and for the first time that night you felt genuinely horrified about what his true intentions might be. “I’m not concerned with you or how you feel.”

Kun finally let go of your jaw and you let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. He grabbed one of your wrists and tugged you closer, knocking you off balance and unfortunately causing you to brace yourself against his chest.

He hugged you to him and whispered in your ear: “What I do care about is seeing Jungkook’s reaction when his precious wife is suddenly nowhere to be found.”

That kicked you into fight or flight mode, eyes widening and mouth opening to scream as you flailed your hands around. Your flailing did little to help you because Kun was already dragging you alongside him away from the wall, still holding you close.

“Let me go, you psycho!” you screamed, only causing him to turn you around and put a hand over your mouth again while his other arm held you firm against his torso.

“One of you bring the car around,” Kun ordered, and you saw one of the men dashing away. As you were pulled further away from the bar, your vision was clouded with a film of tears and your muffled sobs were hidden behind Kun’s hand. You were no match for his strength, and he proved it because he was literally dragging you across the concrete despite you being so uncooperative. Gentle raindrops had just started falling from the sky, further impairing your vision.

It was then that you heard a pained grunt followed by a thud coming from a little further away, in the direction the other man had ran off to. You tried to focus your eyes to see what was happening when the next sound that graced your ears was fast footsteps as they pounded against the pavement.

“Get your fucking hands off of her!”

A familiar voice made you cry out with joy and fight harder against Kun.

“Yoongi,” you cried out, still muffled but enough to draw his attention to your face now. He was running toward Kun fast, and when he saw the position you were in, he sped up, determined to free you by any means necessary.

You briefly worried about the other men behind him, until you saw that another was already knocked down and someone else – you thought it might be Jimin – was currently fighting with the third man. While your attention was on them, you didn’t register Kun tossing you aside until it was too late.

You slipped on the now wet pavement and fell down, barely able to brace yourself for the impact in time. Your earlier vision of Jungkook smiling was the last thing to flash through your mind before your head hit the ground.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Yoongi glanced at his watch for the second time. It’d been about 10 minutes since you stepped outside to take your phone call, and he figured it had to have been important if you were still outside.

As he was wondering whether or not to call you himself to see if everything was alright, Jimin stuck his head inside the office, peeking around the door. “Hey boss, is Y/N around?”

Yoongi sat up straight. “Yeah, she stepped outside to take a call but it’s been a few minutes. Why?”

Jimin’s face blanched. “She went alone?”

“Yeah... Jimin’s what’s going on?”

Jimin took a deep breath. “It’s probably nothing, but earlier there were some guys that straight up harassed her. They were thrown out but-“

Yoongi held a hand up. “Wait. Pause. Someone harassed her? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

Jimin had stepped fully into the room now, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked at the ground. “Well it wasn’t that long ago, so maybe nobody had the chance yet.”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed. “Does Jungkook know?”

Jimin nodded. “Yeah, he’s the one who asked me to come check on her without being too obvious about it. I think the whole thing has him spooked.”

Yoongi didn’t like the feeling that was slowly creeping up on him. He dialed your number and put the receiver to his ear, hoping to hear a busy signal on the other end.

When he was met with a series of rings, his heart started beating faster. He was up and out of his chair fully by the time he heard your voicemail greeting.

“Fuck,” he mumbled out loud to no one in particular. He was jogging over to the back door, a confused Jimin following close behind.

“Yoongi, what-”

“Not now, Jimin.” He picked up his pace, feeling his chest tighten as he approached the door. He was hoping that when he opened it you would be on the other side, because maybe you just lost track of time and your phone was on silent.

Wishful thinking helps in times of peril, right?

Yoongi pushed the door open quickly, letting it bang against the side of the bar. You were nowhere in sight, his eyes frantically searching through the lot for a trace of you.

What he was met with, though, was instead the sight of 3 - maybe 4? - dark figures across the lot, huddled in a suspicious way. His heart dropped to his stomach.

He started running, not knowing what would meet him when he did, but not caring either. As he approached, one of the figures tried to block him. He took them down easily with a single punch, making them groan in pain as their body connected with the ground. Yoongi never stopped running for even a moment.

His heart wrenched when his vision finally adjusted enough to the darkness outside and he could see you and exactly who was holding you.

“Get your fucking hands off of her!” He shouted as he continued running, getting ready to barrel into Kun at any moment.

Hearing your faint cry of his name only made him go faster when his eyes landed on your horrified face.

It was raining now but Yoongi wouldn’t let that stop him from saving you. What he didn’t anticipate was for Kun to throw you in the opposite direction, making him conflicted about who to go after now. He settled for pursuing Kun still, finally reaching him and grabbing him by the shirt.

“What the actual fuck is your problem,” Yoongi yelled in Kun’s face. Kun brought his hands up to try and tear Yoongi’s away, but they wouldn’t budge.

Kun stopped trying to fight back and smiled at Yoongi, making a fresh wave of disgust cascade over him. When Kun spoke, his voice had a calm edge to it. “I’ll just keep coming back, no matter how many times you and those idiots in there,” he jerked his head in the direction of the bar, “try to keep me away.”

Yoongi quickly spun Kun around and forced him to the ground, keeping his hands behind his back and not giving him a way to escape. “Jimin, call the cops,” he called over his shoulder before leaning closer to Kun’s face. “We may not be able to keep you away, but they certainly can with all the dirt we have on you.”

Kun chuckled slightly before grimacing when Yoongi twisted his arm further. “You know,” he huffed out, “Y/N was pretty off balance when I threw her earlier.”

Yoongi stilled. He realized that Kun was trying to distract him by making him worry about you, and unfortunately for Yoongi it was working. Especially when his eyes fell on your unmoving figure several feet away, lying on your side.

“Shit,” he jumped up and ran over to you, completely abandoning Kun, beyond caring at that point. He knelt down and turned you over. He swallowed when he saw the way your arm landed limply on the ground beside him. He embraced your upper body within his arms, shaking you a little.

“Y/N, hey, wake up,” he begged. He could feel that you were still breathing, but it was very evident your fall had knocked you out. And Yoongi knew there was no telling what happened before he even got to you, so he had no clue how injured you might actually be.

He heard footsteps approaching from behind him, splashing against the puddles that were starting to form in the parking lot. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Jimin, since the other man was calling out his name before he got there.

“Yoongi, I called them, they said – wait where did he go?” Jimin was standing over Yoongi now, looking from one area of the parking lot to the other, but Kun was nowhere in sight. “Did you let him leave?”

Yoongi’s silence prompted Jimin to finally look down and his mouth dropped open as he himself dropped to kneel next to Yoongi.

“Holy shit, what happened,” Jimin reached out to gingerly touch your arm, frown deepening when he got no response from you.

“She probably hit her head when that bastard threw her earlier. She’s just knocked out, I think,” Yoongi’s voice was lined with unbridled anger. “Go see if you can find Jin since he’s the closest thing we have to a medic right now. And get Kook.”

Jimin nodded and without another word took off toward the bar. Yoongi couldn’t fathom how Jungkook would react but he knew it wouldn’t be good. As he waited, he held you closer, trying to shield you from the rain.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Jungkook’s fingers were drumming against the bar absentmindedly as he listened to one of his regular patrons drone on about their week as they usually did on nights like tonight. He was genuinely trying to focus on what they were saying, truly he was, but his mind had been so muddled ever since the incident earlier that he found it hard to think about anything else.

Which is exactly why he had asked Jimin to casually check in on you and Yoongi.

It’d been a few minutes and Jimin still wasn’t back; Jungkook hoped that they were all 3 chatting and Jimin was just taking his time. He did want him to be inconspicuous about it, after all.

His patron finally excused themselves to go to the restroom, and Jungkook offered them a soft smile. For a second, he allowed himself to take a deep breath and try to push any lingering negative thoughts out of his mind so he could make it through the rest of his shift.

Jungkook should’ve known better than to hope for a moment’s peace.

He heard Jimin before he saw him, colliding with the other end of the bar. Jungkook cautiously started walking over to him, trying to ignore the heavy feeling that settled over his body like a suffocating blanket.

“Kook,” Jimin panted, “we need you. Now.”

The expression on Jimin’s face and the urgency of his voice made Jungkook’s blood run cold. He wasted no time in leaving the bar as he followed Jimin, nearly running him over when Jimin stopped once they were outside. As his sight adjusted to the drizzling rain, he saw something that made him run as fast as he could before eventually falling to his knees, panic seizing his heart.

“No. No no no no no,” Jungkook was chanting over and over as he stared at you, huddled against Yoongi as he held you close. Your eyes were closed and you weren’t moving.

Jungkook’s hands were shaking, and he could feel his lips quivering. Yoongi stared at Jungkook somberly before gentle passing you over to him.

He immediately drew you to him, burying your face in his chest while he cradled the back of your head with his palm.

The rain started pouring down harder now and he knew it was pelting against his back, cold and wet enough to chill him to the bone. But Jungkook felt nothing. There was nothing but numbness as he continued to rock you gently in his arms and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey angel, I’m here,” his voice was unsteady. “It’s me, baby, I’ve got you. You’re gonna be ok,” his arm that was wrapped around your back tightened its hold on you and he placed his head in the crook of your neck. You still didn’t rouse, no matter what he tried, and his shoulders started to shake.

“Kook-” Yoongi had to talk loud to be heard over the sudden downpour. “We need to get her inside.” He tried reaching out to touch Jungkook’s arm but Jungkook flinched away, embracing you even tighter now as if he was trying to protect you from anything and everything.

He just wanted to protect you. And the fact that he had failed was currently eating him alive with regret.

Yoongi sighed but tried again. “Jungkook,” he said it softer this time but still loud enough, “let’s take her inside. You don’t want her to get sick.”

At the mention of your well-being potentially suffering further damage, Jungkook started to somewhat come back to his senses. He held you tight and stood up with a little help from Yoongi, making sure to keep you as close to his chest as possible so you wouldn’t get soaked and because right now, he needed you near.

When the 3 of you were inside, Yoongi ushered you all into his office since there was a small couch in there were you could lie down. Jungkook placed you as gently as possible on the couch, feeling his heart break piece by piece every second you remained unmoving. The only thing that could offer him solace was the faint rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

He dropped to sit on the floor beside the couch, holding one of your hands in his while he used his other one to brush some of your wet hair out of your face. He leaned his forehead against the arm of the couch and inhaled shakily.

Yoongi was leaning against his desk with his arms crossed, looking at the two of you. Jungkook appreciated Yoongi for giving him time to try and calm down before talking again.

“What happened,” Jungkook managed to croak after a minute or so had passed.

Yoongi took a deep breath. “Kun was here.”

Jungkook whipped his head around fast, his hair splaying water droplets on the couch. His eyes were glazed over with unshed tears, and Yoongi had never seen him look so angry.

He’d never seen Jungkook look so hurt.

“Kun did this to her,” Jungkook asked, tone low and dark, but it came out more as a statement because he already knew. He could tell by the angered inflection in Yoongi’s voice when he mentioned Kun.

Yoongi nodded. “Unfortunately. When I first made it outside, he was holding onto her, dragging her away-”

“Dragging her where,” his hand that was holding yours involuntarily squeezed harder.

Yoongi shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know, it looked like he was trying to take her to a car…”

Jungkook didn’t miss the way he trailed off. He waited for Yoongi to collect his thoughts.

“Jungkook, I- I think he may have been trying to abduct her.”

Jungkook felt like the room had suddenly tilted. The idea of that – God, the idea of anything remotely close to that – made him feel violently ill.

He looked at your face then, noticing how it wasn’t scrunched up in pain; you actually looked quite peaceful despite the circumstances, almost like you were simply in a deep slumber. He tried hard to swallow around the ever-growing lump that was still forming in his throat when he brushed his fingertips along the length of your arm.

You were here, physically here. He could see you and he could touch you. Yoongi had saved you in time before you had been whisked away to who knows where. The fact that Kun had even dared to try to take you away… the possibility of you being gone and Jungkook not knowing where you had been taken to or if he’d ever see you again-

It made Jungkook see red.

This isn’t the life he wanted for you. He never wanted you to have to look over your shoulder in fear at the idea of someone following you, like you’d been doing the last several weeks. He never ever wanted you to get hurt, especially in such a way as this.

He could feel anger flowing through his veins, seeping into his bones and consuming him, with the only thing able to ground him right now being the feeling of your soft hand enveloped by his own.

Yoongi was saying more but Jungkook couldn’t make it out over his own voice screaming at him inside his head. His mind was waging a war with itself, questioning so many things-

Was he really the best person for you?

Was there someone out there who could protect you, who could keep you safe in ways he couldn’t?

…

Would loving you be enough if he could never fully promise you peace?

What if-

“Jungkook,” Yoongi’s stern voice cut through the thick fog of his mind and Jungkook shook his head to try clear it completely. He focused his attention on his friend that was now staring at him, sporting a frown on his face full of concern.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

Jungkook gulped. “Honestly? No.”

Yoongi’s frown intensified. “Kook-”

“Don’t, just- please repeat it. Please.”

Yoongi sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before he continued. “I was saying that Kun threw her to the ground and that’s how she hit her head.”

Jungkook’s unoccupied hand balled into a fist and he clenched his jaw. Yoongi could see him tense up but continued speaking.

“I asked Jimin to fetch Jin seeing as he’s had more medical training than any of us and I figured it’d be better than waiting on an ambulance.”

He had barely gotten the last word out before there was hurried knocking on the door. Yoongi walked over to the door quickly to open it, and Jin rushed in without a moment’s hesitation.

“Sorry it took so long, I needed to get supplies.” He made his way to the couch, crouching down in front of it next to Jungkook. He placed the bag he was carrying down onto the ground beside him as he started sifting through it to find other things he needed. Jungkook watched Jin without really seeing him, flinching a little when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Kook,” Yoongi said softly as Jungkook looked up at him. “We need to let Jin look at her. C’mon,” he patted his shoulder before walking away, and Jungkook knew Yoongi expected him to follow him.

Jungkook also knew Yoongi was right, and he needed to let Jin get to work. He hated the thought of leaving you, but he knew he wasn’t going far. In fact, he wasn’t even going to leave the room, and if he was encouraged to, well-

There wasn’t anything anyone could do to make him leave that room short of physically removing him themselves. And with how wound up Jungkook was about this entire situation, that wouldn’t be an easy feat by any means.

Thankfully, Yoongi didn’t ask him to leave, opting instead to offer him his office chair. Jungkook graciously accepted the offer and sat down, briefly observing how Jin carefully examined you from across the room before he placed his head in his hands.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Some time passed before Jungkook felt like he could properly breathe again. And he was only feeling like that now because you had finally started to stir.

As soon as the faintest noise was heard from you, Jungkook was out of his seat and in front of the couch again.

You groaned as you rubbed your eyes, trying to adjust to the light by blinking a few times. After doing this, you tilted your head to the side and your eyes landed on Jungkook. He inhaled sharply, feeling like he might break apart when you gave him the sweetest smile.

“Koo,” you breathed out softly as your hand reached up to caress his cheek. He vaguely heard Jin telling Yoongi something about you still having decent control over your motor skills being a good sign, but right now all his focus was on you specifically.

Well, he was also focusing on not having a breakdown, but you were most important.

His hand came up to cover yours that was still on his face and for the first time in what felt like ages, his lips curved upward into a smile.

“Hey, angel,” he responded. “How are you feeling?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Well, my head hurts but otherwise I’m fine? A little sore, though-”

“That’s probably from your fall earlier,” Jin interrupted, pulling your attention back to him. You looked at him, bewildered.

“I fell? When did I fall?”

Yoongi and Jungkook shared a look then, and Jungkook would be lying if he said you not remembering what happened didn’t worry him.

It worried him a lot, actually.

Jin hummed. “We can talk about it later. I need to examine you now though, ok? Make sure you don’t have any signs of a concussion or something else.”

The scared look on your face made Jungkook’s chest tighten.

“O-ok, yeah, sure. Do whatever you need to,” you said as you tried to sit up straight, Jungkook and Jin both helping to steady you as you did.

It didn’t take long for Jin to conduct his examination. While he was checking you over, Yoongi relayed the events from earlier to you and Jungkook observed as the look in your eyes switched from one of confusion to one of horror the more Yoongi went on.

“I-I remember now. Right before you came out there, Kun told me-” you trailed off, speaking to Yoongi but looking over at Jungkook now. His heart started beating painfully when you paused.

“What did he tell you, baby?”

You inhaled unevenly, the sight tearing Jungkook up even more on the inside. “He told me that he wanted to see your reaction when I was nowhere to be found.”

This time, he swore his heart stopped.

So Kun had not only planned to take you away, but he wanted to make sure you couldn’t be found?

Jungkook made a promise to himself then and there that if he ever saw Kun again, he’d-

“Koo?”

Your pleading tone made Jungkook’s eyes snap back up to your face. You were trying to give him a small smile, but he could still see the fear lying behind your eyes.

“It’s going to be ok,” you attempted to reassure him. “Don’t worry.”

Jungkook had no idea how you could sit here an expect him not to worry but he didn’t want to fight you on it. You’d both had enough excitement for one night so all he did was nod and hope that would suffice for now.

His mind was starting to race again with the same kind of thoughts he had earlier, plaguing him with questions he didn’t know the answers to.

Frankly, he didn’t even know if he wanted the answers either.

Jin stood up from where he was seated on the floor, straightening himself up and stretching his long limbs. “She’s going to be fine. Just keep an eye on her for the next few days, but I don’t see anything to be alarmed about. If anything changes, you can call me but also if you’re more comfortable going to a hospital, that’s fine too. I won’t be offended.”

Jungkook smiled at his eldest friend. “Thank you, Jin. Seriously, thank you.”

Jin nodded, offering a warm smile to you before exiting the room.

Yoongi walked over to the couch and ruffled your hair. Jungkook watched the exchange with fondness, seeing two of the people he cared about most in the world also caring for each other.

“I’m so glad you’re ok,” Yoongi said, sounding utterly tired. You thanked him again for what he had done, and Jungkook left the two of you alone momentarily so he could check on Jimin and Hoseok at the bar. They entertained him for all of maybe 5 seconds before shooing him away, assuring him that they could handle things and that he should just take you home and be with you right now.

Jungkook thought nothing sounded better.

When he made it back to Yoongi’s office, he saw that you were now sitting on the armrest of the couch. Yoongi must have helped you get up from the couch, seeing as he was standing beside you, and Jungkook strode over to take his place now with an arm around your waist. Yoongi didn’t say anything about him leaving other than to wish you both a goodnight and that he would talk to Jungkook later.

Jungkook helped you walk to the car, not letting you go for even a fraction of a second, despite your teasing him about being able to walk on your own. Be that as it may, he still wouldn’t let go, because the truth of the matter was he was just too scared to.

It wasn’t until you were both in the car riding home that Jungkook let those negative thoughts devour him once more.

And this time, they were almost impossible to shake away.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

When both of you finally arrived home, Jungkook opened the door and surveyed the room before letting you go inside. You knew his paranoia was at an all-time high right now and frankly you couldn’t blame him; you were still really unsettled, too.

But you were more of the mindset that it’s in the past now and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. You never liked to dwell too long on things and Jungkook was becoming better about that as well.

You weren’t sure if it’d be that easy this time, though.

He’d barely said a word to you the whole ride home, and even now as you were both standing by the front door while he locked it, he was still eerily quiet. Once it was sufficiently locked enough by Jungkook’s standards, he gave you one last look before he started walking down the hallway. You frowned and followed him.

“Koo?”

No response.

“Baby? Talk to me.” It looked like he was trying to go to the kitchen, but it was still dark in the house since he’d barely turned on any of the lights, so you weren’t sure. Still no answer.

“Jungkook.” You called out sternly this time and just barely spotted him as he disappeared into the kitchen. When he heard you walk in, he finally spoke.

“You should eat something, what do you want?”

His voice broke your heart.

“I’m not hungry-”

“You can go lay down, Jin said you didn’t have a concussion so it should be fine. I can bring some food up for you.” He was leaning against the counter in front of the sink, his back turned to you and his head hanging somewhat.

He sounded not at all like himself, and it scared you. Not in the way that you were scared of him, but you were scared because you didn’t know what to do.

Talking was obviously getting you nowhere, so you instead walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him from behind, placing your cheek against his back. He flinched.

“Baby, please,” his voice sounded like it was breaking so you just held him tighter, hoping he could feel your love from the way you embraced him as if you never wanted to let him go.

“Koo, I need you to talk to me. I need to know what’s wrong-”

“What’s wrong is me,” he gritted out, tone louder than before and it made you jump. He then released himself from your arms and tried to walk away.

“Jungkook, wait,” you scrambled to go after him, catching him before he could disappear into another room, this time turning him around to face you. He was leaning against the wall and didn’t try to move past you anymore, but he avoided your gaze.

“Koo, look at me,” you stressed, ducking down to peek up at him. He finally raised his head so you could look into his eyes at a normal level. You noticed the tears in the corner of his eyes, and it nearly made you start crying yourself.

Jungkook never hid his vulnerability from you, he never hid anything from you. But even so, it was still a rare sight to see him cry.

“Why do you want to be around me right now,” he questioned, voice wavering and you recognized the sound. He was trying to hold himself back from crying.

“Koo, what do you mean, why wouldn’t I want to be around you? I love you-”

“I couldn’t protect you,” his voice rose in pitch, not to talk over you but because he was just so upset. “I couldn’t save you, I wasn’t around to help you- God, baby, you got fucking attacked and I wasn’t there.”

He was trembling and you tried to steady him by placing your hands on his shoulders. Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks now, and they were bound to start pooling in your own eyes any second.

“None of that is your fault,” you emphasized your words by squeezing his shoulders. “Ok? No one could have predicted what that psycho was gonna do, not you, not me, not Yoongi, nobody.”

“For fuck’s sake, he almost kidnapped you-”

“But he didn’t and I’m here.” You brushed his cheek to wipe some of the tears away and he choked back a sob. “I’m here, with you, and that’s what matters.”

“I could have lost you,” he said it just above a whisper as you moved to brush the tears away from his other cheek.

You blinked back your own tears. “You didn’t lose me.”

“But I could have. We have no idea what the fuck he’s capable of and just- every time I think about what might have happened if no one got to you in time, I start to lose my mind.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and reached up on your tip-toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips, heart lurching when he actually kissed you back and his hands found purchase on your waist as they usually did.

“You didn’t lose me. You have me. All of me. I’m right here,” you kissed him once more. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Jungkook let out a sob as he pulled you closer, nearly crushing you with his embrace. You ran your hand through his hair to try and soothe him when he leaned his forehead on your shoulder.

“I was so fucking scared,” he said against your skin. “So terrified. I love you so much,” a tender kiss was placed on the side of your neck now, and you could feel his lips still trembling.

“I love you,” your response prompted another small sob from him, “I love you more than anyone or anything else in this world and I’ll show you that everyday for the rest of my life, as long as you let me.”

“Baby-” Jungkook’s voice cracked with so much raw emotion and you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You were determined to show him your conviction behind your statement, so with your hand still buried in his hair, you pulled him down to your level once more as you crashed your lips together.

You’d never felt anything quite like the emotions that coursed through you every single time you kissed Jungkook. It didn’t matter if it was the cute good morning kisses upon waking up, the silly, laughter-filled ones that happened in the midst of playing around, or the intense ones bursting with passion that always led to something more. Each one was different and better than the last, and it was like a language between you both filled with unspoken words that demonstrated exactly what you felt.

This was one of the many ways the two of your expressed your devotion to one another, through an action as simple as kissing yet the feelings it always evoked inside of you were anything but. And even during times like tonight when you’d both endured something extremely emotional, you could still find comfort in each other through these gestures.

When you finally broke apart, you were both panting breathlessly, and Jungkook rested his forehead against yours.

“Sorry, baby,” Jungkook breathed, voice somewhat raspy. His fingers had started gripping your waist harder during the exchange, but you felt them start to loosen.

That was most definitely something you didn’t want, so you placed your hands on the sides of his face and looked him in the eyes.

“Koo,” you spoke softly, cautiously, as if you were testing the waters. “Can I give you all of me?”

His eyes sparkled with the realization of what you were implying, and for a moment you wondered if he would reject you. And if he did, that would be completely fine with you because his comfort mattered most of all to you right now, as it always did. Tonight had been a lot to deal with and you weren’t sure what mindset he would be in about this sort of thing-

That thought remained unfinished in your mind as Jungkook captured your lips again and all other rational thought went out the window. All you could focus on now was how Jungkook’s body felt melded up against yours, how his mouth was exploring yours like he’d done so many times before, how his fingers dug into your skin like he was afraid to let you go.

You jumped up and Jungkook wrapped your legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss while he turned you around so that your back was against the wall. You heard a low groan come from him as you intensified the kiss before he pulled away.

“Angel, are you sure about this?” He was holding you up with help from the wall, hands placed on your thighs just underneath your ass. Your hand was playing with the hair at the nape of his neck since you knew how much he loved that. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you-”

“Koo, I’m fine. I feel fine and I’m not in pain. I promise. I want this. I want you,” you gave him another searing kiss that you felt yourself melting into. “But only if you want it too.”

Jungkook’s next kiss knocked the breath out of you and he swallowed the surprised whimper you let out. “Of course, baby. I always want you.”

His words never failed to make you feel warm all over, with love and adoration as well as arousal. Right now, you were feeling all of these things as he situated your legs around his waist in a more comfortable position.

“Do you want to do this here,” he panted as his eyes met yours again. You could tell he was getting worked up just having you like this here against the wall, so you wasted no time answering him.

“Yes Koo, please,” you urged him to continue. “Wanna feel you close. Don’t wanna wait.”

“Fuck, I mean, I could take us upstairs-” his words ended with a grunt as you drew him closer by wrapping your legs tighter around him, making him grind against you. His head dipped down to rest against your shoulder as he let out shallow breaths, his fingers threatening to make indentations in your skin.

In a somewhat frenzied manner, Jungkook put you back down on your feet so the both of you could remove your clothes, too impatient to take everything off and only getting rid of what was necessary. When both of your lower halves were bare, he secured you around his waist once more, his length rapidly hardening against your now naked thigh.

You reached in between the two of you to wrap your hand around him, and the feeling was enough to have him inhaling sharply before he kissed you with a newfound urgency. You could tell by the way he was moaning against your mouth that your teasing caresses were working and within no time he was ready. You let out a stuttered moan when Jungkook’s long fingers disappeared inside of you so he could make sure you were stretched enough.

When he deemed you prepped enough – and when you started rocking against his fingers with impatient whimpers – he withdrew so he could line himself up with you. Your already soaked folds were threatening to pull him in, and it was almost too much for him to handle in his heightened emotional state.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, as he always did. The stretch made you lean your head back against the wall, his soft curses only spurring you on even more. On other nights you might would try to coax him to be a little rougher because you knew you could take it, but tonight you weren’t in a rush for anything, and neither was he. Tonight was about you two being together as one, relishing the way you shared this connection with each other and conveying it through this intimate act.

Both of you sighed in pleasure when Jungkook bottomed out, finally experiencing that complete closeness the two of you craved more than anything else right now. His hands gripped your ass firmly to start moving you up and down his length in slow, steady strokes. He didn’t want to take things fast or go hard tonight – he just wanted to enjoy this feeling, having you so close and yet still wanting to pull you impossibly closer.

The feeling of your warmth around him mixed with the tousling of your hands in his hair was driving him crazy. Every touch from you, no matter how small, always ignited something within him that he couldn’t explain. He was so unapologetically, wholeheartedly in love with you.

And he’d just come so close to losing you.

Pain twisted his heart as he stared at you, watching your face scrunch up in the most beautiful way. Your head was tilted back with your eyes crinkled shut while his name was falling from your lips in hushed whispers. Each thrust was pushing you further up the wall before he would bring you back down again, and your arms wound themselves around his neck to help anchor yourself further.

You looked ethereal, and Jungkook was trying so hard to focus on you and not the negative thoughts that were once again settling uncomfortably in his mind. His body was fighting itself on whether he should succumb to the pleasure he was feeling or if he should submit to the dark cloud blanketing his mind.

His change in demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Jungkook continued to move inside of you, keeping a consistent pace, but something wasn’t right. He was looking at you, but he wasn’t looking at you. He had a pained expression on his face, and that’s what kicked your own worry into gear.

“Koo, baby, hey what’s wrong?” You held his face in both of your hands and watched as he crumbled underneath your touch. He had slid his hands up to rest against your back now in an attempt to embrace you further, hands trapped in between you and the wall.

You almost started panicking when you saw the tears start to brim in his eyes again.

“I just-” he choked on a cry and your heart wrenched at the sound, “I can’t stop thinking about it.” He was still moving but his pace had slowed down to a near stop.

“Thinking about what?” You weren’t sure you wanted to know but you needed him to talk to you.

“Thinking about losing you, I can’t-”

His hands reached up higher to grasp onto your shirt you were still wearing, clenching the fabric in his fists as he dragged it down. You could feel the collar of the front of your shirt tightening around you while he hid his head in the crook of your neck and started to shake. You wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could and ran a hand through his hair, trying to soothe him.

“Please stay,” he whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear. “Please stay with me.”

“Koo-”

“I love you so much, I don’t want to lose you,” more sobs wracked through his body. He had otherwise stilled inside of you but made no effort to move away. “I can’t lose you, I-”

“Baby, look at me.”

Jungkook slowly brought his head up to face you, the sight making you want to break down yourself. He looked so defeated, so broken, and his eyes were shining with tears he didn’t bother hiding anymore.

You cradled his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs across his cheekbones before they travelled to trace along the curves of his jawline.

You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, listening as he tried to control his erratic breathing. “I won’t leave you.”

A soft kiss on his lips. “I’ll never leave you.”

You brushed his hair back from his face, and his eyes captivated you as they swirled with so much intense emotion.

“I promised you forever, and I intend to keep it. Nothing, and no one, is going to keep me from you. I love you too much to let that happen,” you granted him a sweet smile and brushed your thumb across his lower lip that had started to quiver. He sniffled as you continued.

“Do you remember our wedding vows?”

Jungkook swallowed as he nodded, seeming a little calmer now.

Your smile widened, and your own set of fresh tears had gathered in the corners of your eyes, ready to spill. “Remember how I told I would give you all of me? That I would give you the best of me?”

He nodded again, and your heart soared at the tiny smile he presented you with.

“I promised you those things. So, no matter what happens, I’ll never leave you. And with everything life throws as us from here on out, we’ll make it through together.”

His smile was widening into the familiar, bunny-like grin you knew and loved dearly. Your Jungkook was coming back to you, and it was almost like you could see the dark fog that had surrounded him evaporating before your very eyes.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook.” You leaned up to tenderly press your lips to his once more, smiling into the kiss as he let out a content sigh. “You’re my person. My forever. Please always remember that.”

You had swept a long lock of hair back from his face as you finished your words, and while you were distracted with that, Jungkook stared at you like you hung the moon and all the stars.

Your declarations of love stirred something inside of him and it dawned on him then that he was still inside of you. This was made more evident when you shifted in his embrace, probably to make yourself more comfortable since you were still against the wall, but it caused your walls to clench around him.

He closed his eyes and groaned, the sound causing arousal to radiate throughout your body. The two of you clearly must have forgotten the position you were in but that was no longer the case when you felt him twitch inside of you.

“Fuck,” he moaned at the sight of you when he opened his eyes again, his hands letting go of your shirt in favor of settling on your waist. Your cheeks were still flushed, with drying tear stains running down them. You were panting softly and Jungkook’s heart felt like it might burst with all the love he had for you.

“I love you,” he declared while he brushed his nose with yours. “And I honestly cannot believe I forgot I was fucking you, like how does that even happen.”

You giggled, kissing the tip of his nose before you drew back to rest contentedly against the wall. “I’m not sure, but do you perhaps want to finish what we started?”

You moved your hips as best you could at your current angle, and it pushed his cock further inside you, making you both moan at the action. He captured one of your hands in his and brought it up to place a kiss on your knuckles.

“Will you still let me give you all of me,” you reiterated your phrase from earlier in the night before all of this started. Jungkook’s eyes had darkened now with lust and he gave you a sly smile.

“Always, baby,” was his response. “Question now though,” he leaned down to let his lips ghost along your neck, making you shiver, “is can you take all of me?”

You tugged on his hair for him to look up at you, making him hiss in the process. You gave him your best challenging stare, and hoped it was convincing.

“Always,” you copied him, “I can easily take anything you give me.”

Jungkook arched an eyebrow and you felt his length twitch at your words. “Is that so?

You barely had time to nod before he was pinning your hand that he was holding on the wall beside your head, his other one gripping your waist hard enough now you knew it would leave a mark.

He pulled out almost all the way before he thrusted back into you hard, making you whine embarrassingly loud. He chuckled dark and low then, squeezing your hand as he intertwined your fingers.

“Too much for you, angel?” Jungkook knew he couldn’t keep this up forever and that he’d eventually crack himself, but he never missed an opportunity to tease you like this. “Thought you said you could take everything I give you.”

You nodded vigorously, not an easy feat with your head leaning against the wall. “I can, I can take it,” you breathed out, clenching around him to try and persuade him to move again. He stuttered out a low moan, determined to not lose his composure just yet.

“Yeah? You sure? Does that mean you want more?” He was shallowly moving inside of you at a torturously slow pace, the drag of his cock against your walls pulling a loud noise of desperation from your throat.

“Please,” you begged, not even caring how desperate you sounded. You just wanted to feel him, all of him, and your core throbbed at the thought of him finally relenting and fucking you how you wanted. “Please give it to me. Please give me more.”

“Fuck, baby, I love hearing you beg for me,” Jungkook moaned, readjusting his grip on your hip. “Gonna give you exactly what you want.”

He hungrily kissed you for a few moments, sinking further into you before he pulled back, panting as he placed his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Angel?” His voice was low and just the tone alone made you clench.

“Y-yes?”

He opened his eyes and smiled. “You might wanna hold on tight.”

You just had enough time to wrap your unoccupied arm around his back before he started pounding into you like his life depended on it. He slammed into you repeatedly, making you scream out his name over and over again whenever he’d hit that bundle of nerves inside of you. You gripped his shirt to have something to ground yourself with, and your eyes rolled back as he increased his pace.

Jungkook was grunting into your skin, teeth grazing against your neck. “You feel so fucking good, always so tight and perfect for me, my perfect angel.” He squeezed your hand hard enough that his knuckles were taut, but it didn’t hurt you. If anything, it turned you on more because he was finally letting go, caring more about just being in the moment with you than potentially hurting you.

And you knew he still did care about that, he always would; he was Jungkook, after all. But time and time again you had pleaded with him to stop handling you like you would break under the slightest amount of pressure. This was the first time he did without hesitation or working himself up to it.

And you fucking loved it.

In fact, it was overwhelming enough to the point where you knew you weren’t going to last long at all with the way he was drilling into you. All the emotions the two of you had endured tonight mixed with the passionate entanglement you found yourself wrapped up in now, it was no surprise that you were hurtling toward your undoing at a very fast pace.

“Koo, baby, oh my God-” you finally found your voice again, running your nails down his back, hard enough that if he hadn’t been still wearing his shirt, you’re sure it would have left scratch marks.

“Fuck, angel, can feel you around me, always so good for me,” his tongue darted out past his lips before he captured your bottom one between his teeth and tugged on it gently. “Always my good girl.”

His words made you spasm around him, and he moaned loudly at the feeling, eyes fluttering shut. His damp hair was falling into his face so you brushed it back, gasping at the sight of him.

You’d seen Jungkook like this many times before, but this time? This time was different.

A few curls were still framing his face but he had his head tilted back and his lips parted as the most amazing sounds escaped from them. His brows were furrowed and he looked almost pained, but in a completely different way than he had earlier that night.

Your heart ached at the memory, but you didn’t have long to think about it before he pulled you more flush against his chest, now opting to grab your ass with both hands so he could move you up and down his cock with his strength alone.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, “I love you so much, angel, just wanna stay with you like this forever.” He was speeding up again and with the new angle, your body felt like it was on fire. You couldn’t even make a noise as the stimulation kept hitting you in wave after wave.

“You said earlier,” Jungkook continued, a little breathless now but never letting up on his powerful thrusts, “that I was – fuck – that I was your person.”

You nodded, still not really able to say anything or make any sound because your orgasm was approaching fast and you didn’t want it to happen so soon. Not until you knew he was there with you.

“Did you mean it,” he asked, hooded eyes trying to search yours. You kissed him with all the strength you could muster, swallowing down his moans as your walls clenched around him.

“Of course I did. I meant everything I said earlier.” A high-pitched moan tore itself from your throat when his hips snapped into you harder at your words.

“Fuck, it always does something to me when you say things like that,” he was losing his composure now, you could tell it by the way he sounded.

His admission made you chuckle fondly. “You know, you said something similar the first time we were together.”

Jungkook opened his eyes to stare at you and grinned at the memory. “Yeah, I did. Meant it then and I mean it now too.”

“I’m glad I still have that kind of effect on you,” you responded, breaking off to moan loudly at a harsher thrust. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened, and he increased his pace, finally pulling you over the edge.

“You do, holy shit, you really do. I hope I can say the same- fuck,” Jungkook knew you were close with the way your walls kept spasming around him every few seconds. “Gonna cum for me, baby?”

You nodded and whined, holding onto his shirt for dear life while he rocked you through the first stages of your euphoric bliss. He was panting right by your ear now, the sounds making your eyes roll back.

“Go on, cum for me then. Fucking love when you cum all over my cock,” Jungkook’s filthy words had you moaning out his name. “My beautiful angel,” he continued, pulling down the collar of your shirt slightly so he could place a kiss on your collarbone. “Always so pretty for me.”

“Fuck, I’m close, Koo, want you there with me,” you opened your eyes in time to see him pulling his lip between his teeth.

“I’m right there, baby, let go for me,” he reached in between the two of you and barely brushed your clit before your sudden orgasm made you clench so hard around him that he had to throw his head back and let out a guttural moan.

“Angel, fuuuuck, I’m right there, I’m-” you crashed your lips against his and swallowed down every loud noise he made, feeling his lips tremble against yours as his hips stuttered when he filled you up with his release.

He broke apart from you with a gasp, leaning his head back and letting out a strained “holy fuck” before he looked at you again. He slowed down now, thrusting a few more times before he stilled completely, breathing hard.

He moved you away from the wall, and you thought he might put you down but instead he tightened your legs more securely around him and walked the two of you over to the nearest bathroom to shower, his lips never leaving yours the whole way there.

Thank fuck Jungkook had such great muscle memory and knew where he was going because you definitely couldn’t have pulled that off.

He stayed inside you until he was able to put you in the shower, helping you discard the rest of your clothes before he did the same and joined you. It was your usual ritual and preferred form of aftercare since the water from the shower soothed any sore muscles and it helped you get clean in the process. Not to mention it was another way for you to be close to Jungkook, him only reiterating that truth now and he pulled your back against his chest so he could massage shampoo into your hair.

“Love you,” he whispered softly, placing a kiss on your temple since you leaned your head back at the feeling of his touch. He treated you so delicately now, the complete opposite of how he was just fucking you up against the wall. You loved moments like this just as much, always receptive to everything Jungkook did, every touch that flittered across your skin.

“I love you,” was your response as you turned around to wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him into a chaste kiss. He smiled into it, his fingertips brushing against the skin right above your waist.

After your shower, Jungkook carried you upstairs, ignoring your attempts at getting him to put you down because as you told him repeatedly your legs worked just fine and you could walk by yourself. His response?

“Don’t care, still wanna carry you.”

All you could do then was huff, pulling a laugh from the man you loved so much, the sound always beautiful and able to make your heart skip a beat.

When you were both snuggled into bed, you found it hard to sleep. There were still things you two needed to discuss, but you didn’t have the energy – and not really the want – right now to bring them up.

However, Jungkook did.

“Hey,” he was running his hand through your hair as you were laying your head on his shoulder. You hummed in response.

“I’m sorry,” he started, and before you could interrupt he quickly went on. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, but I’m also sorry about how I acted earlier.”

“Koo, it’s fine-”

“Please don’t,” his eyes were pleading and you let him continue.

“It’s not fine, it’s- I get in my head sometimes and it can be hard to come back from that. You’re always able to bring me back, but tonight…fuck, it was bad.” There was a frown on his face now and you tried to make it disappear by placing a kiss on his cheek.

“I kept thinking about how maybe I’m not the best for you-”

You couldn’t help interrupting this time. “Jungkook, you are the best for me.”

“We don’t know that though-”

“I don’t have to, because I know in my heart that you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we have the best life together, the same as I’ll do for you.” You brushed a curl out of his face before you continued, “Only for you.”

He cracked a smile. “That’s my line.”

You shrugged, giggling when Jungkook began trying to poke your sides. “Regardless though, I don’t want you feeling that way. You’re enough, Jungkook, you’re more than enough.”

His smile widened. “Really?”

“Really.” You thought about it for a second. “What can I do to convince you?”

He raised an eyebrow, eyes full of mischief. “Well, I can think of a way…” he said in a suggestive tone, making you roll your eyes before you turned away from him. His laughter fell on your ears and you couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face.

“Hey, c’mon, you know I’m just kidding,” he turned you to face him again, running his hand up and down your side now.

“No you’re not,” you snorted.

He pretended to think about it for a moment. “Ok, you’re right- but I know you’re too tired so I’m half kidding? Sorta?”

It was your turn to laugh then, huddling closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his throat.

His hands found their way into your hair again, and he continued to run them through the strands long enough that you almost fell asleep until he spoke up again.

“We need to do something about him, though.”

The way he said ‘him’ let you know exactly who he was talking about.

You nodded, sliding your head up to lay in the crook of his neck. “We will. But that’s a problem for another day. Right now,” you yawned, “we need sleep.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll stay up a little bit to make sure you’re ok. Jin said it was a good idea for tonight, anyway.”

You were already nuzzling deeper into his embrace, barely registering his words. “Mm-hmm,” came your sluggish response. “Goodnight, Koo.”

“Night, baby,” was his last response you heard before slumber took over, the feeling of his strong arms around you more comforting than anything else you’d ever known.

Jungkook stayed awake for a few hours, listening to your soft snoring and observing you as you slept peacefully. There was a gentle ache tugging at his heart as he remembered everything that you’d been through that night, but when you unconsciously snuggled closer, he felt the ache dissipate.

He made a promise to himself that whatever happened in the future, he would be there for you. He would keep you as safe as he could, and love you with everything he had.

After all, you were his person, just as he was yours, and he hoped that’s how it would stay.

#bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #ofy drabble

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