#I’m worried I won’t be able to get my ten miles as an out and back

[darkwood-sleddog]

What is in the water this week?? work’s got me like this

[kissitbttr]

miguel can’t help it when you’re wearing his clothes

summary: miguel o’hara x f!reader

warning: 18+ stuff but not too overboard

-

miguel is trying really hard to concentrate. he really is.

being a superhero and the leader of spider society is not an easy task. sometimes he’d go days without sleeping. you can either find him at his office or the gym doing his daily workouts because that’s the only place he can take his stress out.

days of scanning over reports and the hours he put in to enhance the new spiderman suit should not go to waste. his eyes are tracking back and forth to the amount of papers scatter all over the table. not to mention a kid he has to take care of named ‘miles morales’ added to his list is almost enough to make his brain explode.

but how could he focus on his work when you’re standing five feet away from him? fixing yourself up a small snack in the kitchen with nothing but his t-shirt and his boxers.

his greedy eyes running through your body shamelessly, finding himself getting lost in his thoughts and he has to snap himself out of it a few times otherwise he won’t be able to finish off all the reports that must be done that night.

yet, he can’t help but admire the way your curves are accentuated by his shorts. how your thick thighs and plump ass filling them in instead of it being too big on you. the way your soft cheeks are slightly peeking underneath the grey cotton material,

he grunts a low ‘fuck me’ when he sees you bending over to put the cookies in the oven. are you doing this on purpose?

had enough of the distraction you’re giving, he slams a folder down and turns his attention on you. “mi vida, can you please don’t stand like that?”

“huh?” you cock an eyebrow, confused to what makes this grumpy man scolding you at this hour. “what’d i do?” you crane your neck to look over at him, with a frown look on his handsome features.

“you! ay dios mio you’re making me hard to focus here! i have so much work to do and you’re being a distraction.”

licking off a cookie dough off your finger, you put your hands on your hips. “how am i being distracting?! I’m literally just standing here making cookies!”

“you know what it does to me when you’re wearing my clothes, mami. I can’t control it. please please stand at least ten feet away.”

“oh?” your voice sounds playful. a small smirk graces upon your lips as you tip toe around the counter to get closer to him.

he knows what you’re up to.

shaking his head in disapproval, he put his large hand up and looking away. “para por favor, cariño. i know what you’re about to do and i cannot afford any distractions right now. stay right where you are.”

“hmm, no.” you giggle, walking towards where he is and you can hear him groan slightly. “whatchu doooing?”

he smiles a bit at that. no matter what you do, he can’t get mad at you. it feels like you put a spell on him or something, he can’t work it out. but he doesn’t complain at all.

he’d break jaws and tear down the fucking universe for you.

he admires the way your thighs rub against each other when you walk, jiggling slightly before you manage to sit yourself comfortably beside him. tucking your legs underneath your butt and make your legs look even thicker

miguel lean himself back a little while his fingers go up against your cheek, grazing it ever so softly. his smile grows when you peck him on the lips.

“how you doing, papi?” you ask, removing a strand of hair from his forehead. “are you feeling okay? you’ve been working far too hard lately, I’m worried.”

he sighs in pure bliss when you run your fingers softly underneath his scalp. feeling himself melt away against your touch.

“always better when you’re around me, mi amor. but you know you can’t be wearing that anymore when I’m working.”

he has to hold back the urge to pick you up and fuck you against the wall when you pout at him.

“you like seeing me in your clothes”

“que sí, baby. but your ass is distracting me far too much in that when I’m working, you know how i get when i see you wearing my boxers. I can’t contain it.” he responds, large hand coming up to rub your exposed thigh, finger toying with the loose hem of his shorts,

“theeen, maybe it’s a sign you should take a break” you suggest, tilting your head lightly. “come play with me, miggy,”

he swears he almost cum right there and then when you say it.

“i will, baby. i promise. but i gotta finish this first, yeah?” his eyes bore into yours as he promises. he wants so badly to leave his work but he knows he can’t. not right now.

with a small huff, you nod. “fine. I’ll wait.”

“good girl.” he leans forward to kiss you again on the lips. “just a few more minutes, yeah?”

“yeah yeah.” you say, “don’t forget to eat. please don’t skip it this time. dinner is on the table, I’ve prepared it for you. also there’s some leftover brownies for dessert if you want it, papi.”

“what do you mean? I’m looking at my full course meal right now, cariño.”

you roll your eyes playfully, blushing a bit as you smile at him. he’s giving you that infamous smirk of his with his eyebrow raising. showing you he’s not playing when he says that,

“aish. such a sweet talker you are. be quick baby” you shake your head, standing up from the couch before heading to the bedroom with your fingers fixing down his shorts to cover it more. your ass moves from side to side as he watches.

god, he fucking loves to see you walk away.

-

a/n: i will give him kids enough to create a football team

[queenlucythevaliant]

Heartstrings

Written for the @inklings-challenge Christmas Challenge 2023.

It is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I’ve a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly.

Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

The string was still there, knotted beneath Rose’s left ribs. She was driving 75 miles an hour down the freeway in her ten-year-old Carolla, the radio on at a buzz. Outside the window, miles and miles of monotonous New York forest passed by. 

Her sister Joan was asleep in the passenger's seat, medical gauze still visible beneath her pale pink blouse. She dozed uneasily, turning her head occasionally from side to side, or else sniffling faintly. Rose hummed along to the radio and tried not to focus on the pulling sensation in her chest. 

Everyone has a heartstring that leads them home, which for Rose meant Eastledge Church in the Massachusetts town of the same name. Heartstrings are thick and fibrous, made of many smaller cords all twisted together. Rose's string had been wrapped round her heart in many tight loops over the course of her childhood, constricting her cardiac muscle while simultaneously holding it safe and secure. She didn’t know if her heart could beat without it. 

So: she drove. Exit in 143 miles, rest stop in ten. 

Eastledge Church was rotten. It had black mold in the walls and liars in the pulpit. Rose knew she should cut the string that tied her there. She wanted to. Joan had managed to yank out her own heartstring, but it had bled and bled and she’d needed two trips to the ER before it was safe for her to travel. Even now, she was pale and weak from the bloodloss. 

Still, Rose knew she should cut the string. She kept a pair of scissors in the glove box, in case she ever got up the courage to do it. 

“Where are we?” murmured Joan. She stirred a little, carefully shifting her weight away from the left side of her body. 

“You missed the Erie Canal– or, well, the picnic area anyway. There’s a rest stop with an Arby’s in like ten miles if you want dinner.” 

They arrived at their hotel in Buffalo just after two in the morning. Rose had an ache in her hamstring from working the gas pedal, but it was nothing compared to a chest wound. Both she and Joan had forgotten to call ahead from the road, so they had to wait while the front desk concierge went to find the manager and ask if he could still check people in once they’d started the night audit. The manager appeared at the front desk a few minutes later and told Rose curtly that it would be a while yet. 

“It’s standard practice at hotels.”

“I know,” said Rose. “I’m sorry. There’s a problem with my heartstring, see? And my sister’s got ripped out. We had other worries. I’m sorry.”

“Yes,” the manager answered dubiously. “Well, make yourself comfortable in the lobby and we’ll let you know when we can check you in.”

It was three by the time Rose finally stumbled into the room and collapsed onto the hard mattress. Joan came in behind her, barely coherent through the fog of her exhaustion. The light in the bathroom was flickering, but Rose didn’t care. Her heartstring hummed with promises of rest. Turn around, it seemed to say. You know you won’t be able to sleep the night until you’re back home.

“Screw you,” Rose said aloud. 

“Hmm?” 

“Not you. The church, Pastor Mark, and this stupid string in my chest.”

“Hmm,” agreed Joan. 

Rose indulged herself for a long moment in imagining the violent demise of an elder who had taught her to play Go in the welcome room once, and who had made excuses for the rot in the walls many years later. Her heart thrummed like a violin string. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. 

The next day, they drove as far as Gary, Indiana. Rose could feel her string getting tangled whenever she got on another exit; she worried about it even changing lanes. 

“Mind if I put on something a little more upbeat?” said Joan when Rose winced on a long merge. “I think we could both use it.”

“I don't think it'll help, really.”

“Alright, but maybe it'll get us singing along?”

Rose waved her hand in a way that meant “fine.” She bobbed her head to the peppy pop song her sister selected and tried to enjoy the drive. It was pretty country, a sunny day, and they kept passing signs for different scenic lakes along the way. 

“Finger Lake, Elbow Lake… do ya think we're building an arm?” she quipped, feeling lighter. 

But when Rose tried to start the car outside the diner where they’d stopped for lunch, her key wouldn’t turn in the ignition. Joan was paying for parking, but when she slid into the passenger's seat, careful not to jar her stitches, Rose threw her head down on the steering wheel and sobbed. She turned to her sister, questions about oil cans and engines on the tip of her tongue, but right then her heartstring yanked so hard on her heart that all she could manage to say was, “It hurts.”

“I know Rosie. I know it does,” Joan said back. “Mine does too.”

Fortunately, there was an Ace Hardware half a mile away. Rose left Joan with the car and walked there, then paid for the lubricant Google said she needed and headed back. There were still so many miles to drive that day, so much string left to unspool.  

On the way to St. Cloud, they changed time zones. Rose felt it deep in her chest when they passed from Eastern to Central time: a jolt on her string, like lightning down a kitestring. 

“Did you feel that?”

“I didn’t feel anything,” said Joan. 

“No, I guess you wouldn’t.” Rose stared at the glovebox a long moment before she remembered to keep her eyes on the road. There was only an hour difference between Eastledge and here, but with all that time pulling steadily against her ribs, Rose could feel every minute of it. 

Joan suggested calling their parents when they reached their hotel that night, before both sisters remembered that they would be asleep by now. Rose wondered if Pastor Mark was sleeping too. She hoped he had nightmares. She hoped he woke up with guilt pressing hard on his chest. 

They drove past Chicago in a heavy drizzle and spent two hours sitting in traffic. Joan tried calling their parents again, since there was nothing else to do. “I don’t know how you and Dad stand it,” she murmured. “Staying in town with your strings half-frayed. Isn’t it killing you?”

“Sometimes,” said their mother. “But your father and I have spent our whole lives reorienting our hearts. We've had to do it many times, and it never gets easier, but we get better at it.”

“Do you blame Rose and me at all– for leaving?”

“Of course not. But we'll miss you at Christmas.”

That night, Rose and Joan snuggled up together on a hotel room queen bed and watched the second half of some Julia Roberts movie that was playing on cable. Joan cracked jokes about the female lead's neuroses and by the time the credits rolled she was lying half on top of Rose. Their hearts were beating in time, and suddenly Rose was grateful, so grateful not to be alone with this grief.

They'd been traveling for days now and Rose's heartstring grew more and more taught by the mile. Now, if she touched it, blinding agony would shoot through her chest. Even just the glancing brush of a fingertip over the fibers squeezed her heart until all she could think of was the place under the stairs where she’d hidden for hours once when she was eight, sleeping bags spread out across the sanctuary floor, or sneaking into the kitchen during summer VBS. 

“Do you remember those lantern light picnics they used to do for a while? Right as summer was ending, you know, and the whole congregation came out for it, and it was just kind of magic?”

“Yeah. I also remember ditching it that one time and running out to the creek with Olivia and Liam.”

“What about that tea and testimony women’s event when they asked me to be on the panel?”

“Don’t remember that one. I didn’t think you ended up doing it?”

“I didn’t. Prior commitment. But it felt nice to be asked.”

“Mmm. I felt the same way when they asked me to do the layout for the new photo directory.”

“Teaching Sunday School. Nursery. Organizing the craft closet and going crazy with the label maker.”

“Mmm. Food drives, clothing drives, and silly little theatricals.”

“Remember when I got to sing ‘Do You Hear What I Hear?’ at the Christmas pageant? And the year you were Mary? And that one play after I aged out where you spray dyed your hair gray?”

“Some of it. I was pretty young for the first one. And I’m trying to forget as much about church plays as I can. Mr. Pierce directed them all, and I don’t want to think about him at all if I can help it. Not after what he said to Mom.”

Rose sighed. 

“Yeah, that's true. It's a bad lot, top to bottom. Anyway. How’s your heart?”

“It’s doing better, I think. The wound’s not seeping anymore. Sometimes, it barely hurts at all.”

It was Christmas Eve when they arrived in Helena. A Wednesday. Rose pulled into their aunt’s driveway and parked, then they both went inside to greet the extended family. Joan called their parents to tell them she and Rose had arrived safe. 

They had dinner with the family, but then the sisters went and sat together on the guest bed for an hour trying to figure out what came next. Rose pulled at the string beneath her left ribs until she could barely stand it, trying to decide if she could bear the Christmas Eve service her aunt and uncle attended. Joan just sat scrolling mindlessly on her phone, trying to forget for a while. 

They both wanted to go to church on Christmas Eve. That was maybe the cruelest part. Rose’s heart longed for carols and Scripture readings with a tender ache altogether different from the ever-present, stripped-raw yanking of the string. Joan was healing, and didn’t want to dwell on losing Eastledge any more than she’d already done. 

“I’m going, I think,” Joan said finally. It was nine p.m. and the service began at eleven. 

“I’m not,” whispered Rose. “I just can’t. It hurts too much.”

She made an apology to her relatives while Joan went to get dressed, gesturing vaguely at the place beneath her left ribs. Once the house was empty, she resigned herself to the tinny sound of carols played over her phone speaker and a few whispered prayers. When she prayed, Rose heard Pastor Mark’s voice as often as her own. Sometimes he told the truth, but most of the time he lied.

Oh God. This time back home, they’d be singing “The First Noel.” They’d be lighting candles soon, and the upstairs sanctuary under whose stairs she used to hide would glitter when they turned off the lights. 

When the churchgoing party got home, half an hour after midnight, Joan found her sister in the guest bath. She was sobbing and covered in blood. 

“I cut it,” Rose whispered. “I cut my heartstring. I couldn’t bear not being at the service–not the one here and not the one at home– so I cut it out of me. I took the scissors and I just– I– I think I’m bleeding.” She looked up. “I am bleeding, right? This is all my blood.”

There was blood oozing out of the wound in her chest, but it was on her hands too. It was on her lips, her nose, and how had even that happened? “I’m bleeding,” Rose said again. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

Joan called an ambulance, but first she reached back and unzipped her dress. She pulled it over her head and stood there, in her bra and black tights and nylon slip in front of her bleeding sister. “Mine stopped,” she said, slowly peeling back the gauze that covered her heart. The wound was shut, though the scar was still red and angry. “It hurt a lot tonight, Rosie, but it’s not bleeding. Yours will stop too. I promise.”

They spent Christmas night in the ER. “It’s a busy night in this ward,” one of the nurses remarked. “Lots of people pick tonight to tear away their heartstrings. It’s the worst night of the year for people who can never go home.” 

The Sunday after Christmas, Rose felt light-headed as she stepped into her aunt and uncle's church. She’d missed the carols, but some of the decorations were still up. The altar cloth was still white and gold, and so it would remain for a few days yet. 

Everything was either an echo or a contrast to Eastledge. “I wish they wouldn’t sing this song,” said Rose in her sister’s ear, pressing a hand to the place beneath her ribs where her heartstring had been. 

After the service, Rose went up to the front of the church and stood in front of the altar. She reached out and ran her fingers over the scalloped edge of the cloth, wanting to salvage some Christmas joy but instead only able to imagine the corresponding cloth a thousand miles away in Eastledge, Massachusetts. 

No, no, none of that. Rose screwed her eyes shut and she forced her thoughts back into something like order. She thought about Christ Incarnate leaving his home in heaven. Which way had his heartstring pulled him, she wondered. Had it tied him back to the Father, or had his heartstring led him straight to the cross?

“Eastledge Church broke my heart,” she didn't quite whisper. “You broke my heart, God, and I don't know what comes next.”

There was no immediate answer, but the gold threads against her fingertips were rough and scratchy. They ran along the white cloth in embroidered images of starbursts, crowns, and crosses. Her fingernail caught on a loose end, which unraveled a little when she drew her hand away. 

Before Rose quite understood what was happening, that loose end of golden thread had disentangled itself from the altar cloth and was hanging in the air before her eyes. As she watched, one glittering end wove its way towards her chest, underneath the bandage and through her skin. With a strange gentleness, the thread wound its way past her left ribs and tied itself, she was certain, in a knot around her heart. The string gave a little tug, but it didn't hurt her; Rose felt only a delicious warmth that began in her heart and seemed to radiate all through her body, from the hairs on her head to the tips of her toes. 

For an instant, Rose assumed that the other end of the thread was still embedded in the altar cloth; that this was God's way of telling her that she belonged here, at this church. Yet as her eyes traced the length of golden thread, they found themselves gazing up, where a faint shimmering was just visible high up in the rafters. 

“It doesn't end there,” she realized. With that, Rose turned and sprinted down the aisle and out of the church. 

The gray December sky was dotted with snowflakes. When Rose raised her head, they fell in her lashes and she had to blink them away. Yet there, high above her, she could see her golden heartstring vanishing into the clouds. 

“It leads to the Throne Room,” said a voice beside her. Rose turned and saw Joan standing beside her, with Rose's own coat draped over her arm. “I think it must.”

“Yours too? I mean, did your heartstring–”

“Yes. Christmas night, in the hospital with you. I looked up and it seemed to be unfurling down from the ceiling like Jacob's Ladder.”

“You never said.” Rose sniffed hard, not sure if it was the cold or the overwhelming emotion that caused it. 

“I don't think it's the sort of experience you can talk about, much. Put on your coat, Rosie. I won't say let's go home, not now– but the car is warming up, and I bet I can get Auntie to make us some cocoa.”

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 38/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

When Mulder walks out of the restaurant with Cal and the kids trailing behind him, Frohike and Byers, who are standing beside the van, exchange a worried look.

“Calvin Rose, this is John Byers and Melvin Frohike,” he says, gesturing to each man in turn. “And this is Abby and Peter.”

The Gunmen regard Mulder with wide eyes.

“Calvin Rose?” Byers repeats, extending his hand for Cal to shake. “As in Dana and Calvin Rose?”

“Cal received a letter, purportedly from Scully,” Mulder explains. “It instructed him to get on the train at the Henryton tunnel at noon.”

Frohike checks his watch. Cal hands Abby the keys to their car.

“Ten, mijita. Go see if there are any more M&Ms in the car.”

The four men watch the children go, waiting until they are out of earshot to speak again.

“We need to hit the road in fifteen minutes if we’re going to make it by noon,” Frohike says urgently. “What’s the plan, Mulder?”

“Cal is coming with me to look for Scully,” he says. “You two need to stay back with the kids.” He hesitates, then adds, “Their chips haven’t been removed yet.” The Gunmen’s eyes widen, and Mulder can see the questions and concerns running through their heads. “You said it’s not real-time tracking, right?”

Byers swallows nervously.

“Based on the size of the device, they’d only be able to triangulate a rough location, maybe within about five miles, every thirty minutes or so.”

“So if you keep moving you should be safe?” They don’t respond right away, just look at him and then at each other reluctantly. “We don’t have time to second-guess, guys,” he says, irritated.

“In theory, yes,” Byers finally says.

Mulder turns to Cal.

“Do you know how to fire a gun?”

The corner of Cal’s mouth quirks a little, the closest thing to a smile Mulder has seen on the man.

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s gear up and go. The kids stay with the van, and we’ll take your car.” He turns to Byers, who looks entirely uncomfortable with the last minute change in plans. “I’ll call you when we make it back to town so we can arrange a place to meet.”

Byers touches Mulder’s upper arm, turning them slightly away from the other two.

“I hate to ask this,” he says quietly, “but…what if you don’t come back?”

Mulder gives him a significant look.

“I trust your judgment,” he finally says, and Byers briefly closes his eyes.

Each man is outfitted with two weapons, one to be worn at the hip and the other strapped around an ankle as backup. Cal moves the children’s bags from their car into the van and then beckons them both over, crouching down to bring himself to their eye level.

“Eschúame, niños,” he begins, taking one of each of their hands. “These are my friends, John and Melvin.” Abby glances at the Gunmen and leans in to whisper something in her father’s ear. “Yes, Melvin is kind of a funny name. I need to go with this man to pick Mommy up.” He gestures to Mulder, who smiles reassuringly. “It’s not safe for kids, so John and Melvin are going to take you on an adventure while Daddy and Mr. Mulder go get Mommy, okay?”

Peter lets out a long, petulant whine.

“I was gonna ride the train!” he complains.

“I know, Pete. I’m sorry. We’ll ride a train some other time, okay?”

“Promise?” Peter asks, scowling.

“Pinky promise,” Cal says, holding up his fist with the pinky out so Peter can link it with his own.

“When will you be back?” Abby asks, her bottom lip plumping up and her eyes wet.

“I’m not sure. Hopefully soon,” he says, and she nods.

Frohike slides the van door open and Frenchie pops her head out, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Abby sucks in a breath and moves closer to her father, grabbing on to his arm.

“Daddy,” she whimpers, and Cal follows her eye to the dog.

“Puchica,” Cal mutters. “I’m sorry, Abby, I have to get going or we’ll be late. The dog won’t hurt you, I promise.”

The child only tightens her grip.

“This is Frenchie,” Mulder says, patting the dog’s head. “She’s a very gentle dog, and she loves kids.”

“It’s 11:33,” Frohike points out.

“Daddy has to go,” Cal says again. “I need you both to be brave for me, okay? Can you be brave?”

A tear slides down Abby’s cheek, and she wipes it away.

“You can be brave and scared at the same time,” she says in a tiny voice, and a pained smile stretches across Cal’s face.

“That’s right, mijita. You can.”

“I’m not scared of dogs or alligators,” Peter says proudly, and Cal pulls him into a hug.

“Be good, okay? Listen to Melvin and John.”

“Okay, Daddy,” the children recite in unison.

Cal sits back on his haunches and gives them both a long look.

“I love you,” he says tightly, and Mulder feels a sudden kick of guilt. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He gives them each a last hug and kiss on the forehead, and then stands and walks purposefully toward his car.

“Let’s go,” he says over his shoulder, not looking back. “We’ve got a train to catch.”

-

It takes them twenty minutes to get to the tunnel. Cal is silent for the entirety of the drive, and Mulder can’t think of anything to say to fill the silence that wouldn’t feel painfully frivolous given the situation, so he stays silent as well. The small-town scenery gives way to an even more rural area, houses becoming further and further apart. They’re bumping down a pitted dirt road when Cal sits up and his mouth falls open.

“What?” Mulder asks, looking between him and the road. “What is it?”

Cal shakes his head as though disoriented.

“I’ve been here before,” he says. “I remember this road with the tracks up ahead. There’s going to be a little gravel lot on the left up here.”

Sure enough, a small gravel lot appears to their left just as the road runs up against a set of train tracks, and Mulder can see the train tunnel about fifty yards beyond it. He makes a U-turn and heads back down the road a short ways, pulling the car into a small clearing that will obscure it from the view of anyone on the train. The men exit the car and walk quickly back to the gravel lot, and Mulder looks at Cal expectantly. The sun sits high in a cloudless sky, and sweat is already beading on both men’s foreheads.

“What should we do now? What do you remember?” Mulder asks, shielding the sun with his hand. Cal is scanning the surrounding landscape, his jaw jutting out to the side unnaturally before his shoulder quirks. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cal says cooly. “I was brought here in a transport van. The train passed partway through the tunnel and stopped. I was walked into the tunnel and told to get into a boxcar.”

“So should we wait in the tunnel?” Mulder asks, and Cal shakes his head.

“We gotta get through it,” he says, then sets off jogging toward the tracks. Mulder follows after him, and they quickly approach the opening of the west end of the tunnel. “There will be men in the boxcar,” he says breathlessly, his arms pumping. “We’ll have to get on a different car and ride out there without anyone seeing us. Better odds of that at the back of the train.”

The interior of the tunnel is dank and covered in graffiti. As they near the halfway mark, Mulder hears the distant, muted hiss of a train whistle and his heart jumps into his throat. When they emerge from the east end of the tunnel, the headlight of an engine car is close enough that Mulder can make out the silhouette of the engineer as he reaches up to blow the whistle again, warning them off the tracks.

“Down here,” he directs Cal, and the two scramble down a small embankment, flattening themselves against the ground as the train begins to pass by above them.

Dry grass tickles his nose as the wind generated by the train sends it whipping against his face, and he feels the sheer mass of the locomotive rumbling in the ground beneath his chest. The brakes screech and he winces, resisting the urge to cover his ears. The clack and rumble of the train over the tracks becomes slower and slower for several minutes until finally they hear the sequential bang of the cars coming to a stop. They wait and listen, their faces turned toward each other. Mulder flicks his eyes up toward the train, suggesting that they go now, and Cal shakes his head.

There is the crunch of boots on gravel, and the men lock eyes, holding perfectly still.

“Anything?” a voice calls out from inside the tunnel.

“Nah, nothin’,” someone answers, so close that Mulder can hear them sniff and clear their throat. The crunch of the boots becomes further and further away, but they keep waiting.

“When the train starts moving, we go,” Mulder mouths, his voice less than a whisper, and Cal nods.

They hear a door slamming shut, then several minutes of silence. The train whistle blows and a few seconds later, loud clangs sound off along the track as each car lurches forward and the train begins to move. When they hear a clang just above them, Mulder gets up on his hands and knees and Cal does the same.

The freight train is carrying so many cars that the caboose is still miles down the track, hidden from view. Boxcars, flatbeds, and tanker trucks start to slowly move past them, and Mulder considers which would be the most practical to ride on.

“This one,” Cal says, pointing to a white hopper car.

They begin to jog beside it as it slowly picks up speed. Cal guides them to the rear of the car where the slope of the hopper leaves an empty space they can sit on and be protected from the wind. He grabs hold of a ladder and runs alongside the car until he can pull himself up and get a decent foothold, then slips through the beams supporting the structure of the car and holds his hand out to Mulder.

The train is picking up speed, and the gravel is loose under Mulder’s feet as he begins to run to keep up with the car. He reaches for Cal’s hand but only manages to brush the tips of his fingers before the train enters the tunnel. It’s dark now, and there are just a couple feet between the wall of the tunnel and the train car.

“Come on!” Cal shouts in the dark, bracing his shoulder against the support beam and extending his arm as far as possible.

Mulder pushes himself harder, kicking up gravel as he struggles to keep pace. Soon, the train will be moving too fast for him to safely get on. He has barely any clearance between his body and the tunnel wall on one side, the fast-moving train on the other. If he so much as stumbles, he could be easily thrown under the wheels of the train and crushed. He pulls in a huge breath and forces himself to run faster, his arm extended. The light at the other end of the tunnel is beginning to reach them when he sees Cal’s hand close around his wrist and his feet lose contact with the ground. He flies up, tethered to the car by Cal’s hand and brought airborne by the momentum of the train, but soon enough his feet smash down against the gravel surrounding the tracks and he cries out.

Cal slips his other arm between the rungs of the ladder, fumbling to get a better hold on Mulder as his feet strike the ground and send him flying up before he crashes down again like a rock skipping across water. Cal manages to get a fistfull of his shirt and tugs on it violently, and suddenly Mulder’s chest is pinned against the rungs of the ladder, his feet dangling just above the ground.

“You gotta get your foot up!” Cal shouts, his body crammed against the metal beams on the train car that are preventing them both from falling to their deaths.

Mulder bends one leg and scrambles to find footing, and finally he lands on something solid. Slowly, he pulls himself up until he is supporting his own weight and Cal is able to release him. Both men fall into the empty space at the back of the hopper, panting and exhausted.

“You good?” Cal asks, looking him over.

Mulder’s shirt is stretched out around the collar and his boots are scuffed to shit, but aside from some soreness he appears to be unscathed.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Thank you.”

Cal nods, and they are quiet for a time as they travel alongside the river, each catching their breath and taking in the picturesque countryside while the train gently jostles them.

“Do you remember what comes next?” Mulder shouts over the noise of the rails as he uses the bottom of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “How long were you on the train?”

Cal stares out into the distance, contemplating.

“Less than an hour,” Cal shouts back, leaning in. “I know we didn’t stop at all before we got there. There weren’t any windows in the boxcar so I couldn’t see what we passed or anything, but I remember that when we stopped it wasn’t at a train station. It was just kind of in the middle of nothing, like the tunnel.”

Mulder nods. Less than an hour until they arrive. He feels some sickening combination of excitement, fear, and nervousness, and he checks to be sure that both his weapon and backup weapon are still present and properly secured. He can’t wait to see Scully again, to feel the way he feels when he’s with her. Like someone really sees him. Really knows him.

“Do you remember what’s after the train? Where they took you?”

Cal shakes his head, looking disappointed with himself.

“Hopefully when I see it I’ll remember. It’s like I have to see or hear things to remember them. Something has to jog the memory,” he explains, and Mulder nods.

“That’s what Scully said too. Dana, I mean.”

“They didn’t get you?” Cal asks, touching the back of his neck.

“They did,” Mulder tells him. “But for whatever reason, very little has come back to me.”

“You remembered Dana, though,” he says, as though it’s a given.

Mulder doesn’t see any reason to get into specifics, at least for now.

“She’s hard to forget,” he says by way of an answer, and Cal flashes him a knowing smile that sends a stab of jealousy shooting through him.

When they hear the brakes screech a short time later, they exchange a look. The train begins to slow and they ready their weapons, just in case.

“I think it will be safest if we wait until the train starts up again before we jump off,” Mulder suggests, and Cal nods his agreement.

“If this is the spot, there will be a dirt road right off the tracks,” he says, and Mulder is grateful for his steadily unraveling memory.

The train eventually comes to a full stop, and they listen to indiscernible voices in the distance, doors opening and closing, and the mechanical roar of vehicle engines for several minutes. The engines fade away, as do the voices, and when the cascade of clangs signals that the train is starting to move, they put away their weapons and prepare to jump.

The earth beside the tracks is covered in bramble, but the dirt beneath it is soft enough to effectively break their fall. They carefully drop down, first Mulder and then Cal, and pick burrs off their jeans while the rest of the train chugs along beside them. There do not appear to be any other people around.

“This way,” Cal says, un-holstering his gun and taking the lead.

Mulder follows behind him, pistol in hand but with the safety on, as they approach a hard-packed dirt path that disappears around a bend into the woods.

“Is it far?” Mulder asks quietly.

Cal shakes his head.

“Not very. Let’s stay off the road though.”

They make their way into the edge of the woods, keeping the path in their line of sight as they follow it deeper into the lush green of summer in full bloom. Acorns crunch under their shoes and birds sing a carefree song overhead, and it all feels so tranquil and out of place for their mission.

The dirt path curves generously to the left, then dead ends in a small parking lot. The two men crouch down at the edge of the woods and watch as a woman in medical scrubs walks back and forth across the lot, intermittently holding her cell phone up to the sky before bringing it to her ear to shout, “I can’t hear you!”

The parking lot itself has only six spaces, three of which are occupied by a golf cart, a van, and a motorcycle. In front of the spaces there’s a stone retaining wall of some kind, and seemingly nothing else.

“Where is it?” Mulder asks quietly, and Cal shrugs.

“I headbutted the guy who was walking me in and tried to run, and I think they knocked me out or something. I don’t remember anything after this except waking up in a hospital bed.”

“Hello?!” the woman shouts, bending forward as though that will somehow cause cell service to materialize. She finally gives up and stuffs her phone into the pocket of her scrubs with a huff, stalking towards the retaining wall.

“Where is she going?” Mulder wonders under his breath.

When the woman reaches the wall, she walks around the edge of it and disappears into the forest. Cal looks over at Mulder and he looks back.

“You know what I just remembered?” Cal says. “That place didn’t have a single damn window. Not a one.”

“Let’s just hope these guys have more regard for fire code than they do for human life,” Mulder says, and Cal quirks his head at him. “There’s gotta be more than one way in. And out.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

[koolcece22]

Enter Venomgirl ch.3

Ch.3

Miguel’s pov 

I can’t believe they let her out. All they know she could have broken others out of their cells. Or went on a rampage. I know Shade has been a hero for only nine years but it seems that her powers aren’t fully controlled. And the earth she from I need to see her back. We reached my lab since the Go-Home-machine was still not ready for her yet, also I needed to yell at Hobie and them.

“Look, can you just let those guys go? I should of stayed in my cell like a good prisoner.” Shade said. Judging from her tone she did feel guilty that she caused them trouble. I sigh, I’m still giving Hobie and them a good talking-to. I dissolve my mask and turn around to face Shade and them. I saw Shade’s widen a bit as she was eyeing me more.

“ Oh Great Ones, you are hot!” I heard Shade’s symbiote say next to me. I couldn’t help but blush from the comment, I’m shocked and thankful the lab lighting makes it hard for everyone else to see clearly. I noted blushing hard and the Kids were giggling behind her.

“Kuro, Shut up!” She said through her teeth, also blushing 

“But, he is.”

I try to get everyone to focus by snapping my fingers. 

“All four of you are big trouble as was saying.”

“Come on tío, She wasn’t doing anything wrong. And the fact she a hero on her Earth maybe she should, you know, treated better?” Miles said. I still don’t like him calling me that. I feel unworthy of that word. 

“She is still a symbiote variant. Too much negative emotion from either from the host or the people around it can have dire consequences.” I said I know Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr hadn’t had their symbiote canon event yet. But they still should know better. 

“Wait, what a symbiote?” I heard Shade ask, everyone turned to her. I even look at her confused. Then I realized why she wouldn’t know what a symbiote is. She is one after all and she is the only one that I know of.

“Wait, you don’t know that …uh your ‘little’ friend is a symbiote?” Gwen asked. I saw Shade shake her head. 

“No, Kuro has been with me since I was born.”  

“Wait, you were born with it,” Mile asked Before Shade could respond to him I cut her off

“It does matter how she got it. All that matters is we are sending her back home once her DNA can locate her Earth. And since you guys let her out I’ll now have to keep an eye on her.” I groaned out now having to watch her.

“All of you aren’t going on missions for a week for this.”

“Aww. come on” Gwen. Miles and Pavitr whined. Hobie just rolled his eyes. I know he is the oldest of them. I just wish he acted his age. 

“Now all of you head to your earth. And better not leave to see each other, I’ll lock your watches and you won’t be able to see each other for a month.”  I can tell Miles and Gwen want to retort something till Hobie chimes in to stop them.

“Come guys. Let's not pissed off the big man ey? Fine, we play your way ex-boss.” Hobie said as he left my lab with not more further argument. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr follow him out. Something tells me they are up to something but I can’t worry about those guys' rebellions way.  Lyla came back with the cheeky smile she always has.

“Good news boss, her DNA is almost synthesized to the Go-Home-Machine so in like ten minutes or so. She can be sent home soon,” she said with a smile she always does. I nodded. Shade’s symbiote was looking at this Lyla, reminding me of a child who saw the animal for the first time. Lyla did the same as she was scanning ‘it’.

“I still can’t figure out what this symbiote variant is. Their DNA is really bounded no wonder they can’t stay apart.” 

“Hey, microwave! Go stare at your stupid big spider why don’t you?!”  

“It's kind of cute compared to the other ones.” Lyla said what I think is called ‘it’ that triggered ‘it’ more as ‘it’ started to lash out in the containment jar ‘it’ was in 

“SAY THAT TO MY FACE YOU KUSO MICROWAVE!! I'll-” 

I quickly hit the button to mute it. Something tells me it going to be yelling and cursing up a storm for a while I don’t have time to deal with that. I turn towards ‘it’s’ host also looks like about to curse me too. But at least she kept her mouth shut. 

“Don’t worry, you two will be sent home shortly,” I said but she huffed 

“Can you please give me back Kuro at least? I don’t trust you with her, I don’t care if you know the whole ten-meter thing. If we get separated for too long we’ll go into shock and-” 

“That not going to happen. I’ll make sure of that. I’m more worried you go berzerk and attack anyone. You two don’t have full control don’t you?” I pointed out to her. Shade closed her mouth with on response, even her symbiote stopped yelling in the jar and had a look of shame on its face which I’m surprised. Most symbiotes don’t care about the host's feelings. 

“I was in control. I wouldn’t attack those kids without reason.” 

I sign,  it be very hypocritical of me to judge her on that. “Just be silent for a while while finish up my work,” I said as I pulled her onto the platform. She got on with no more feather fighting. She looks more amazed about the setup, I guess she never really explored too much of the spider society.  I continue my work and unmute the symbiote since it shut up now.

“So what year this Earth is? Hobie said this like a future Earth.”  She asked, I Ignored her, wanting to finish my report and check on the stats on the other Earths . 

“Hey, big dumb Spider! She asked you a question!” 

“Kuro. stop it. He busy or something.”  

“You're in my Earth, Earth- 928 in the year 2099. Does that answer your question?” I said didn’t take my eyes off the scenes. “Your earth is 2424 and in the year 2023 correct?”  

“My Earth 2424? Is there a reason why that's a number or something?” 

“No, that's how the Earths are labeled.” 

“Ok? Well you guys didn’t seem so keen on going on my planet to invade so is my planet that bad for you guys not to come?

I rolled my eyes when she said invaded, were not aliens for shock's sake. “Your Earth is banned.”

I didn’t need to look at her that her eyes went why. I turned to her sure enough Shade’s eyes were wide.  

“What? Why?” Shade asked. I don’t want to give her any more information as I already did. Till Lyla returns to tell me the The-Go-Machine is ready for Her. Then I was about to give her a Jar that contained her symbiote before I warned her.

“I’ll unwrap you and give you back you symbiote, but you try anything…” I unsheath my claws to show her what I meant. Not a huge fan threat but it does get my point across. Shade didn’t seem fazed by my threat, even her heartbeat was still calm. 

“I understand, Just give her back to me.” 

I unlocked the containment jar and the symbiote quickly went back into her body. Her hair turns from white to black from this. I unwrap her and she follows me to the Go-Home-Machine.  As walk in I had Margo set up the Machine to set her to her Earth.

“Uh sorry, I attack you guys first. Alchemax and I have a very messy history…” Shade said as she jumped on the platform of the machine. 

“I don’t blame you, Alchemaxs aren’t the ethic of people.” I gave a sign to Margo to start the machine. The Machine started to form the space webs, Shade looked around it with a nervous look.

“This not going to hurt right?”

“As long you don’t move,” I said and she nodded after being fully covered she was sent. I breathe easier that she was sent home. Little didn’t we all know we going be in one hell of a Shocking adventure.

~

Shade’s Pov

I shout out the portal at so high speed that I have to grab something to slow me down and not fall off the building I was on.

“What the Void?! Couldn’t they send us home and not trying to kill us?!”  Kuro said. I agree, I’m in top of a tall building, and I would fall a few more inches. Once I my bares and calm down the flashlight teleporting is rough. I look around to make sure I’m back. I jump down to the alleyway to change to my normal outfit. And walk out the street. I walk to one newsstand to see that its my Earth. Talking about Valent 6 and Arachnidqueen being the hero saving the little girl I saved. I just roll my eye and head back home. Luckily, it not far.

I have few bucks on me and grab some food on the way. I have to put a note that i’ll have get some more cash soon. Might rob another high-end person but right now I just want to go home. It only took 20 min. To get to my place. An abandoned factory. It's scary but its homie. 

I head in going to the main control room where is set up.  T.V. on the floor. Piles blanket to sleep on. A poster, and a game console. And fi-wi from Zee. I unsallow my phone, glad those guys didn’t open me up. I checked what happened I was gone. Turn out I had only been gone for like couple of hours and there wasn’t anything bad that happened while i was gone. Archnidqueen boosted how she saved the kid earlier today, the one I saved and she put in danger. Great ones.

Kuro was eating the rest of the food I brought, so I didn't have to head to her little bed as  I did the same. I was exhausted, I just hope tomorrow there is nothing surpri-

*crash!*

I went high alert, Kuro got up and we changed to my Venomgirl outfit. I sniff the air and try to locate the intruder(s). I growled deeply like a bear that usually scares people away spreading more rumors about this place. The strange smell nor the sound didn’t go away.

“Leave,” I growled out I really don’t want to deal with this.

“Don’t feel like it, mate.”

My eyes widen recongnize the voice the smell seems to be above me I look up to see Hobie sticking on the ceiling. He wasn’t the only one, I saw Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr also with him.

“What the void? Why are you guys here?! How did you get here?! How did they find my place?!” I asked hundreds of questions. I try to calm myself down, but How they got here is still on my mind.

“Did you miss us?” Hobie said as he jumped down, the others did the same. The other three look around my living space. It is not homely but I didn’t think that I would have guessed over

“Nice place. You might want some more lighting” Gwen said I think she tried to not be mean about it. And I do live in the dark. It helps calm my senses.

“Oh wow, you have a PS5? How you got it?” Miles said look at my SP5. 

“We stole it,” Kuro said as she de-transformed me. Miles and Gwen gave a questionable look. I shrugged

“Look I can’t really go get a job. If you haven’t noticed.” 

“Oh, you have chai?” Pavitr looks at ‘my kitchen’ which is just a sink, mini fridge, and tea maker.

“Yea uh I have some chai tea.”

“Whoa whoa chai is tea. Your saying tea tea!!” Pavitr said grabbing one of my tea bags. Something that must be something from his earth. 

“Uh ok? You still haven't told me how you guys got here?”  I said kind of starting to get impatient, doesn’t help it like late, and want to sleep and now I have a bunch of teens in my place uninvited.

“Well see these watches. They allow to teleport any earth. Well my can, those three have the boss ‘censor watches,” Hobbies said as pointed to the watch he had on. He looks different from the other three. “I still don’t get why guys won’t wear the watches I Made.”

“No offense Hobie, your watches still need some work. We feel nauseous every time we use the portal.” Miles chimed as was sneaking trying to turn my SP5, I just glared at him and took a hint and placed the controller back down.

“Ok? That answers one question but doesn’t answer the others.” 

Hobie then pulls out a card from his pocket and a phone that looks like it is from my earth.  He threw the card at me and I caught it. My eyes widened when I saw the symbols on the card from U.N.I.T. from Zee. 

“Looks like your friend needs help and they going to need a lot of it.”

[ozma914]

That Winter Driving Thing Again

(It's possible I was a little irate when I wrote this. Also, I'm hopeful the snowy weather is over for the season, but not convinced.)

 I contend that DWS (Driving While Stupid) should be a death penalty offense.

Of course, DWS isn't illegal to begin with, but we have to start somewhere.

Look, I’ve done foolish things while driving. I once backed an ambulance into a mailbox--and yeah, it was snowing, but it wasn't the snow's fault. I slid over a stop sign with a police office standing ten feet away. Snow was an accomplice in that case. I took a 1976 Pontiac Ventura off-road four wheeling – and no, Venturas were not FWD.

My youth may have been a reason, but not an excuse. I’ve slowed down, but others haven’t. Worse, the people who cause the mayhem often walk away uninjured, whining about how traumatized they are from the experience.

“It was horrible, all the kids in the back of my pickup flying through the air, and the nun’s body knocked out my tire alignment -- *sob* -- I almost lost my grip on my beer. Luckily I had my cell phone in my other hand, so I was able to call 911.”

"What? It looks fine."

 Sometimes–not always – drivers of big vehicles are most reckless. Why? Well, drivers of small cars are scared stiff. You think I’m going to tailgate a truck that has a spring loaded bumper aimed at my nose, and a “Honk if You Love Guns” bumper sticker? I don’t think so.

Second, many drivers of large vehicles thumb their noses at Mother Nature. “What’s a little freezing rain? I’ve got four wheel drive!” It’s fun to play the game where you’re passed by an SUV, then get to point and laugh at him when he lands in the ditch two miles on.

It’s the definition of False Sense of Security. Yes, maybe you and your truck will get through your 65 mph trip in blinding snow without incident. Angels watch over the foolish. Or maybe the next time will be the one when you’ll end up parked in somebody’s living room, with a Toyota under you that can now qualify as a throw rug.

Here’s a wild idea: Slow your ass down. A five thousand pound block of metal, at a speed that would terrify an Indy 500 racer of 75 years ago, is not under your control, even in the best weather conditions. Add to that rain, deer, and other idiot drivers, and you’ve got a recipe for bloody mayhem.

“That won’t happen to me,” you say. You’re a moron. Nobody’s last words were, “I have a feeling I’m going to get into a bad accident today.”

"Did you see that idiot?"

 Let’s break it down.

There are excellent drivers capable of maintaining control at warp 5, but they don’t live around here. If they did, they’d have died with a deer in their laps a long time ago. If you’re running late during a snowstorm and get behind a silver haired lady driving 35 mph, you have nobody to blame but yourself for not leaving on time.

Seat belts. They keep you from getting your head run over when you’re thrown out of your rolling SUV because you tried to pass that silver haired lady in a snow storm. Living is cool.

Carry a set of scales, and weigh yourself before getting into the car. If you’re not on the edge of starvation, wait until you get home to eat.

A lot of people try to excuse their accidents by saying they were “blinded by –“ fill in the blank. The sun, oncoming headlights, a brilliant idea, whatever.

We don’t let blind people drive. It’s what used to be called common sense, before attorneys had it banned. So if you’re behind the wheel and something blinds you – STOP DRIVING. Are you worried somebody behind you will be mad because you hit the brakes and pulled over? Fine – let them be mad at your very alive self.

They’re probably driving a four wheel drive, anyway.

Why do I take so many pictures from my porch? Because then I don't have to be in a car.

  (Remember, whenever you buy one of our books I can get gloves, and keep my fingers warm enough to write another one.)

http://markrhunter.com/ https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

[zangyo]

@assortedsnacks​ said (inbox):

' kento-san !! ' lucky toddles up to the other with all the speed a wobbly, limping dog can muster, huffing and puffing behind his smothering wraps, a silvery, conical party hat on his head. in his arms is a basket of assorted fruits for the other: apples, cherries, peaches, citrus and pears. ' it's your birthday, right? wahooooo! i sent myself a letter with a totally ominous reminder so i wouldn't forget! past me was sooo smart. ah, but this gift's from present me! yup, yup! i slammed my head into a whole bunch of trees and gathered it all up for you! '  don't worry, he's totally fine! aside from hiding a comically fair sized bump beneath the party hat, at least. it doesn't seem to bother him, his tail wags a mile a minute as he holds his present out for the other and beams a visibly radiant smile from beneath his bandage. ' i got you something else too. but i hid it in the fruit, rrr-owch! you're just gonna have to find it! or bite into it, first! ' perhaps the gleam of it nonetheless showed: a gorgeous, golden pocketwatch had been tucked into the rest as a secondary present. ' either way, i'm sure it'll come in handy for a super cool, busy guy like you! just don't eat too much cake, okay?! if you get one, you've gotta share it with lots of friends! or else you'll get a huge tummy ache! i learned that one the hard way, rrr-owch! '

     HOW IN THE WORLD did Lucky know about his birthday? Had he mentioned it while he was here? Maybe he had let it slip? Honestly, that didn’t really matter when he really thought more into it. The other’s contagious energy was what held most of his attention as they ran up to him with a bowl full of many different fruits. Bending down as he often did to close the gap between them, he chuckled gently. ❝You wrote yourself a letter just to remember my birthday? I must have mentioned it in passing once, but I’m impressed that you were able to recall it today.❞ Especially since he was more than aware of Lucky’s absolutely atrocious memory. They could tell themselves that they would remember something, only to forget it not even ten minutes later if it wasn’t written down then and there. However, Lucky did remember things when it counted. Your favorite color, your favorite song, food – These were things he most certainly never forgot. ❝I do hope you didn’t push yourself too hard for my sake, though.❞ Nanami reached out, gently patting that rather noticeable bump. He’d have to make sure that Lucky iced that later before he left.

     Now…the present…

     ❝That aside, I wonder if I should look for this hidden present of yours now, or do it later.❞ Did Lucky literally mean he HID his present inside this assortment of fruits or that it was…in the basket somewhere? It was hard to tell, and he felt a little too awkward to ask. Nanami would find out later, he supposed, within the privacy of his apartment. ❝Regardless, I know that whatever it was that you brought me will be an excellent gift that I carry around all the time.❞ He paused, lips curling into a rare smiling. ❝After I celebrate with some of my comrades later, I’ll be sure to come back and bring a lot of cake slices with me so I can eat some with you as well. It’s only right I enjoy this day with you too. And don’t worry. I won’t eat too much before seeing you.❞

[tracksidequeen]

Toto to the Rescue

Summary: You don’t feel well at the race and Toto takes care of you.

Request: anon1 - how about reader doesn’t feel well and is in a lot of pain and Toto is doing everything he can to help you, you can’t work out what’s wrong you just know you’re hurting everywhere so he just gives you loads of soft kisses and cuddles and he’s saying really sweet things to you 🥺 uhhh it’s the phrases he’ll use like “come here my sweet girl” and “it’s okay, daddy’s got you” like just being so caring and also him not giving a shit about work because he just wants to concentrate on you 🥺, Anon2 -assistant!reader x toto (it’s all i live for at this point) maybe the reader is overwhelmed by the amount of work she had to do and toto helps calm her down??

Warnings: Toto x Assistant!Reader, some slight distress for reader, but ultra-soft Toto to the rescue

Words: 1K+

*****

These double-headers can get the best of you and as Toto’s assistant you’re always the first one on and the last one off. You knew what you signed up for, and you were always willing to go the extra mile. Which is exactly the reason Toto hired you, but this morning- this morning was just rough.

You stumble into Toto’s trackside office with his itinerary for the day and his coffee in hand; shaking, pale, and a sweaty forehead. 

“Goodmorning Boss,” you say with a low and shaky voice as he snaps out of his deep thought. His cheerful eyes scan your body language as you placed everything on the desk, but the moment you got closer his eyes filled with concern as he saw you more clearly.

“Ach je! Mädchen, what happened to you?” He stands up from behind his desk with extended arms to help you with the stack of papers that nearly slips out of your shaking hands. “Let me help you.”

“No, I’m fine, Toto, don’t worry,” you say semi-composed but your whole body just feels like shutting down, and a wave of dizziness pulls down the mask you were trying to put up. Toto watches in concern as you hold on to the desk trying not to fall over but your knees nearly gave up, and just in time Toto grabbed on to your trembling arm and walked you over to the sofa.

“Sweetie, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says with concern as he rolled down his usually rolled up shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat off your pale forehead. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

You hold onto his shoulders as he is knelt between your legs with piercing worried eyes waiting for your response, but you nod your head. “No, I’m fine, it’ll pass by.” And you stand back up, but a sharp stabbing pain shoots through your abdomen making you fall back down on the sofa. “Fuck!”

“Stop saying that you’re fine,” he says agitated. “You are clearly not Schatz. Here.” He stands up and hands you a glass of water, but the weight of the glass alone seems to be too much and it nearly slips out of your hand. At the same time you hear Toto’s phone ring and ten messages pop-up on your phone, giving you a stabbing headache, but you had a job to do, and currently you were heavily failing at it.

“Shit, Toto you have a meeting now, I’m sorry I’m holding you up! Those documents have all the information you need. I alphabetically ordered them, so you’ll be able to figure it out.”

He looked at you expressionless, and then shakes his head displeased as he declined the call on his phone. 

“Toto, I’m sorry I made you miss the meeting, I know how important it is,” you ramble on apologetically as a sigh escapes his mouth. “It won’t happen again Toto, I’ll keep a better schedule, show up earlier-.”

“Honey- Schatz, just stop, okay. Stop apologising for nothing,” he says sternly but with a softness to it as he crouches down to your eye-level where you were still sat shaking with cold-sweats on the sofa. “I don’t care about the meeting. All I care about is you, and your well-being. And currently you’re clearly not doing well.” 

His hand slowly strokes a strand of hair that was sticking to your forehead behind your ear. You were trembling and sweating, and frantically you start shaking your head trying to understand the emotions that were rushing through your body and Toto tried to make sense of what was going on. It hit you all at once.

“It’s just so much. So much, Toto. And I try to keep up, I do, but everyone is pulling me from all directions, I missed my mothers birthday for this, I barely get any sleep-”

“Shhh, come here,” he whispers softly and he pulls you in for a hug. “Everything will be alright. Everything- I’ll make sure of it, I’m sorry you’re feeling this way.”

With your head leaning on his shoulder, you try to muster up some form of response, but none come out and you’re sat in Toto’s embrace as he was slowing tracing his fingertips along your spine to calm you back down. He pulled out of the hug so you could face him and places his hands around your cheeks. The concern was written all over his face and he slowly traces his thumb over your cheekbone. 

“Do you want to see a doctor- just in case?” he inquires but with slight guilt in his voice, although you don’t understand why. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Nuzzled in the crook of his neck you shake your head ‘no’ and mumble, “no I’ll be alright.”

“Ugh.. I should’ve realised- done something, I’m so sorry Schatz. You always work so hard for me and this is what you get in return. I’m so sorry, truly,” he says and plants a soft kiss on your forehead as an apology. “I should’ve never let it come to this.”

You grab his wrists and slide your hands up his arms, “Toto none of this is your fault, c’mon, you know that.”

“Aber meine Liebe, you do need to rest, let’s get you back to the hotel,” he says as he stands up and takes you hands in his. “Bitte, I’ll take you” 

“Toto, no but you’ll miss all your meetings-”

“Schatz, it wasn’t a question. I’m taking you back to the hotel and I’ll clear my schedule for the morning so I can be there by your side if you need anything.”

With your fingers tangled in his he lifts you up off the sofa and wraps his coat, that was hung over the chair, around your shoulders. You were his assistant, he was you boss, but your connection exceeded far beyond that; in that you had each other’s backs no matter what. You could always count on him. 

“Thank you Toto,” you say as he rubs you arms to comfort you and make your way to the door. He pauses his walk before opening the door and runs his hand through your hair. 

“Anything for you, my love.”

————

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[no-droids]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal​

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

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

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

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

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

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

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

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

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

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

And it was fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well.  Fair.

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking abou—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–6:15am:

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

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

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

***

Day 1–7:06am:

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

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

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

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–12:00am:

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

“Wake up.”

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

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

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

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

No—

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t need to ask.

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

***

Day 2–5:34am:

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

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

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

Din is asleep?  Seriously?

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

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

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

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

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

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh.  What the fuck was that?

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

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

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

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

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

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

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

Day 3–12:00am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your coordinates—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t—”

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

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you.  You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.  You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you.  Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples.  “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious.  “You think—y-you think—”

“What?”  You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious.  Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops.  It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?”   He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet.  “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there?  You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering.  He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now.  “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh.  That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart.  He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you.  Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word.  “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly.  Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down.  “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid.  Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days.  I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss.  You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it.  You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his.  He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.  “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not?  What have you got to lose?  Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways.  What’s the worst he can do?  Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here.  “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days.  You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you.  You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.  It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

[hitnran]

OBSESSIVE EX (gender neutral! reader)

how they deal with you having an obsessive ex

includes: ran, rindou

CW: obsessive behavior, cursing, stalking (ran), phone harassment (rindou), the haitani brothers lowkey kinda scary here (not to the reader) 💀 but i’m just trying to make it fit within their character

— RAN HAITANI

Getting into a relationship with someone like Ran, half of the charismatic brother duo that ruled Roppongi, almost means guaranteed safety wherever you go. His title itself is one that is feared when murmured. Whenever you two leave, he always has an eye and a hand on you. Ran knows well that even if he is feared, he can also be challenged and the last thing he wants is for you to get involved — you would make an easy target for his enemies.

You two were out together on a stroll around the city. Although there was nothing neither of you needed, Ran’s favorite thing is showing you off. Sometimes you start to feel similar to his younger brother, thinking that you’re just a shadow and only known as ‘Ran’s partner.’ But Ran’s intentions were opposite. He wanted everyone to know that it was him that belonged to you and it is him that people would have to deal with if you were ever tested.

As you two are walking, Ran noticed your eyes consistently checking itself to the side. He took note of that and eventually brushed it off since you stopped. But then he noticed that you were being especially keen and scanning the whole area.

“Are you okay, love?” Ran slightly hunches down, getting your attention as your face turns his way. He lightly smiles at you. “Did you see something you liked?”

You swallowed down hard. You could’ve sworn you saw a familiar face, but after trying to scan the area numerous times for the past few minutes, you thought it was just you being paranoid. The last thing you wanted was to worry Ran and cause a scene.

“I’m okay,” You shook your head, returning a light smile. You grabbed on his arm, this time a little tighter. “Let’s turn into this corner.”

Ran knows when you’re lying. He knew something made you uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to force you to tell him. Instead, he’ll make it his own problem too and deal with it himself.

This area was his territory and everyone knew it. It was almost as if Roppongi, a city known for liveliness, calmed down ever so slightly if one or both of the brothers were out. Everyone’s gaze wound be kept low and their conversations would go mute as they walk by.

At that moment, Ran could feel a pair of eyes staring your way. He won’t make it obvious though.

“Love,” Ran called out to you. You looked up his direction and he placed a hand against your lower back. “Rindou’s gonna throw a fit if I don’t bring back food for him. How about you go into the restaurant and order first while I call him and ask what he wants?”

You felt at ease hearing that you two were finally going to be in somewhere indoors, but it made you nervous that he would be separated from you for just a little while.

“Don’t wanna bring something back he won’t like and have him complain,” Ran lightly laughed, trying to ease your clear discomfort. He placed a hand over your head. Taking out his phone to add to his act. “I’ll be quick.”

After some hesitation, you gave in. It was a public space after all, so it shouldn’t have been anything to worry too much about. He watched as you entered the place before turning around, sending chills to the person who had been following you two around this whole time.

“Would be a shame if I left them alone for too long, wouldn’t it?” Ran gave off a sinister grin, slowly walking towards the person. “Wouldn’t want anyone to take them away…especially someone like you.”

Ran knew who this person was. He was an obsessive ex of yours that just would not leave you alone and accept the separation despite it being years passed. He gulped hard, nervously stepping back, not thinking that he would get caught.

“You were so bold to even follow us in the first place, why so shy now?” Ran smirked, hiking up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “This is the first time you’ve heard of me or something? I should introduce myself to you well and hard then.”

Almost ten minutes had passed since you’ve been waiting for Ran. You sat patiently and waited. Your best guess as to what’s taking him so long revolves around Rindou. Maybe he was complaining about how he wanted food from a different place or being picky about menu opinions. Just as you were about to raise yourself from your seat to check up on Ran, you saw him enter.

“Did I make you wait too long?” Ran appeared, seating himself in front of you. The worse case scenario you had in mind was that he got into a fight, but in front of you, he looked just as how you last saw him. “You know how Rindou is.”

Your chest became relaxed and you gave a small smile, shaking your head, “What did he want from here?”

“I didn’t even listen to what he said,” Ran teased, opening up his menu and leaning back against the chair. You felt his legs sandwich your calves from beneath the table. “He can order it himself. All my money is going to you today.”

And that was how Ran liked it. Although Ran wanted everyone to know that he belonged to you, he knew how important it was for others to know that you belonged to him too. The image of the face of your ex is burned so clearly into his brain — face all bloodied up, mauled almost, as he failed to even whisper for forgiveness.

“I think there’s only one way I’m gonna let you outta here alive,” Ran kicked his body down with force, hearing something shift in his jaw. He couldn’t give half a damn about it. “Do you know what that is?”

Your ex was visibly beaten and weak now, barely able to even blink or properly form a sentence. Though, with his adam’s apple slightly moving from fear, Ran took it as a response.

Grabbing him by his hair upward, Ran bent down, looking straight at him, “You’re gonna leave them alone and never show your goddamn face again. If it wasn’t fucked already before, it sure is now. I promise you I’ll know if you’re even barely visible or a mile away, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Ran thought it was so disgusting how someone like you could ever have your time wasted on someone low like this ex of yours. Even if Ran saw him and his brother above everyone else, he always put you above him.

“Maybe even after this, I’ll send one of my men to go and beat the shit out of you every day so you could suffer for as long as you’ve tried to bother Y/N.”

— RINDOU HAITANI

Rindou can’t even remember what it took for you two to even reach this state of your guys relationship. He convinced himself that it was Ran, his older brother who wouldn’t shut up about how he was going to take you if Rindou didn’t make a move.

It genuinely surprises himself even whenever he looks your way, observing every detail and soaking in the idea that you are someone he can call his.

You two were watching a movie, or rather, supposed to. Rindou was too focused on side-eyeing you every now and then. You caught him a few times, but he would brush it off with comments like “this movie is boring” or “I’m just checking to see if you fell asleep.”

He would snap himself out of a trance after hearing your phone ring beside you. You eyed it once, looking at the caller ID and ignoring it. It wasn’t enough to cause Rindou to worry - it’s not his problem if you just didn’t wanna answer a call, it was your guys’ time anyway.

But then it rang once more again. Your ringtone dragged itself out halfway through before Rindou slightly raised his hand from your hip, pointing to the phone on the side of the couch.

“You not gonna answer that?” He asked.

You shook your head, eyes focused on the TV, “It’s fine. It’s an unknown caller ID.”

Rindou shrugged, ignoring it once again, but after a few more calls and your phone receiving back to back text messages, it was starting to irk him. He was close to just grabbing your phone and answering the call himself, but you were quick to act before him, just shutting it off.

“It must be spam or something,” You sighed, sitting back down.

“Yeah, well whatever it is, good thing you shut that damn thing off. That shit was annoying,” Rindou sighed, curling his arms around you again. “Let’s change the movie too or something. This one is boring.”

One thing about dating Rindou is that he seems uninterested in absolutely everything he does. Although you avoid thinking like that when it comes to your relationship with him, you always remind yourself that Rindou is someone who deeply cares for you. He shows it very differently compared to others, but you know.

He can recall a memory from a few weeks ago where you kept getting calls in the middle of your guys’ date. It annoyed him, but not as much as it annoyed you. You’ve pressed the red decline button at least five times now, stressing over it and spilling out everything about your previous ex.

At the end of your rant, Rindou grabbed your phone, picking up the call and saying words as simple as “leave them alone.” It was so simple, but for the next few weeks, it was silent. You finally thought you were free of harassment thanks to your boyfriend, but recently, they’ve been coming back as unknown caller IDs and more frequent than before.

Halfway through the movie, Rindou felt your body become more loose and relaxed beneath him. Your breath became slower and more steady. You had fallen asleep. He thought it was ironic to have someone as angelic as you in the arms of someone like him - a gang member always involving himself in trouble, even just for fun.

He stared at your phone just a reach away and then back at you. The last thing Rindou wanted was for you to be uncomfortable, or really, anything that isn’t where you aren’t happy.

When you woke up, the TV was shut off and you felt a blanket drape over your body. You realized you had fallen asleep from earlier, but you were expecting to find your boyfriend with you as well. That was when the door swung open and you were greeted with Rindou.

“Rindou?” You slowly let out, still adjusting from waking up. “I didn’t know you left.”

He raised a bag up midway in the air, it’s a bag from a bakery you often bought from, “You kept murmuring about it in your sleep. Didn’t want you to wake up all grumpy.”

“I don’t wake up grumpy!” You protested, watching as he took his seat next to you and unpacking all of your favorites.

“Yeah, okay,” Rindou joked. He listened to you puffing out before wrapping yourself around his arm.

“Thank you though,” You murmured out of embarrassment - maybe he was half right.

“It’s nothing,” He replied, softening his face into a grin. “Must’ve been hungry though if it got you talking in your sleep and drooling on my arm.”

You didn’t even know about half of the things he does for you, but he didn’t mind it, because if you were happy, then that was all that mattered.

It made Rindou feel guilty to turn on your phone and look through it. It wasn’t something that he ever felt the need to do - he trusted you and it felt wrong if you weren’t aware that he was using it. Though, at this time, he felt like it was for the better.

While you were silently sleeping, he browsed through your texts. It’s that same person - your ex back again to bother you. Rindou scoffed, making sure it wasn’t loud enough to wake you up, but he was angry. He clicked his tongue whilst composing a message.

Rindou knew you would never be so stupid as to meet up with someone like this, especially not after already experiencing it once. It was a good thing that it was just Rindou posing as you though. How delighted your ex felt to have finally received a response to you - ‘Let’s meet up here.’

Rindou thought it was so pathetic. This guy had no idea what he looked like, let alone that you even had a boyfriend. So when Rindou’s immediate reaction upon seeing him was to throw a punch, he was shocked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Your ex cried out, trying his best to dodge his attacks but failing in between his words and attempts.

“Me?!” Rindou snapped, pushing him to the ground and twisting his arms. “Speak for yourself.”

The man beneath him screamed in pain, “I-I’ll call the cops on you and have you arrested!”

“Yeah? You think they’ll give me less time if I tell them I was just trying to teach a creep a lesson?” Rindou pulled back on his arms a little harder, tendons and muscles stretching themselves out of place.

“T-The hell are you talking about?!” He stuttered out.

“Don’t bitch around. Might end yourself up in there if you keep this act of yours up - I’ve been once before,” Rindou smirked, pulling back more and more on his arms. “It was fine for me. My big bro and I even got some respect while in there, so what’s gonna happen when they hear about your name from me? You’re fresh meat to them.”

“W-Who even are you?!”

Rindou scoffed, “The same guy who warned you once to leave Y/N alone. I should’ve honestly went to find you myself personally and beat the shit out of you, but I hate wasting my time.”

Your boyfriend let the man go. If his arms weren’t all bent out of place and dislocated, he’d be crawling away by now. It was a sight that Rindou would laugh at. Upon seeing that his phone had fallen out of his pocket, the same phone used to consistently harass you, Rindou stomped down hard, breaking it into bits and pieces.

“Don’t waste my time again. Next time you do, call the cops, I promise you I won’t care if they catch me killing you,” Rindou turned his back around.

[heliads]

Hostage Situation

When Y/N L/N is kidnapped by Peter Pan to serve as a hostage and coerce her kingdom into leaving Neverland alone, she can only laugh. The mutual hatred between her and Pan, however, may lose its fire after a while.

masterlist

Your feet tread methodically around the grounds. You loop around the castle, walking past scraggly bushes and dying trees, eyes occasionally flickering to the large mountains in the distance. Your mother and father keep an impressive castle, but their focus rarely extends to the upkeep of the grounds themselves. Kings and Queens don’t exactly bother themselves with gardening- that will fall to the servants or, when you’ve managed to bore yourself enough, you.

Technically, you should be back in the castle. You are a princess, after all, and princesses rarely roam about the grounds in dirty, faded boots that have walked more miles than the most experienced of messengers. This being said, you’re not sure anyone will spare you enough thought to care. You may be a princess, but only in blood and title. Anything else must be fought for, and you’ve given up such pastimes long ago.

You suppose you’re still musing over this, which is why you don’t see the shadow swooping down over you until it’s too late. By the time you feel the uncanny stillness, or notice that an unusual darkness has swarmed around you, the shadow’s eerily human arms have wrapped around you, and your feet are already lifting from the ground. You struggle, but it is in vain, and soon you’re watching trees and rivers pass miles below you. You lock eyes with the shadow being, but its glowing white gaze betrays nothing but an emotionless urge to complete orders. Wherever you’re going, someone is waiting for you, someone who is controlling this shadow.

This realization troubles you more than you like. You don’t much like the idea of being taken somewhere, and you’re not about to just sit around and let it happen. You wait until the shadow swoops low over a rolling set of hills, and begin to fight back with renewed vigor. Although your blows tend to sink through the only somewhat corporeal shadow, you manage to stun it enough that it drops you. You fall through the air, catching yourself in the boughs of trees and scrambling down. 

Your feet pound on the dirt as you sprint away from the shadow, but even this effort is useless. It appears out of nowhere in front of you, and as you skid to a stop it raises its hands and a wave of shadow rushes from it. The darkness pools around you like ink, rising to swallow you whole. You can only see one last thing before the darkness engulfs you completely: the white beacons of light that are the shadow’s eyes. Then there is nothing to see at all, and you can feel yourself falling to the ground.

When you wake up again, you find yourself lying down. You’ve been propped up against a tree, and when you open your eyes, you realize you’re in the middle of a forest. It’s a different forest than the one you were just in, and at a different time of day. The shadow must have continued the journey while you were still unconscious. You shiver slightly at the thought- wherever you are, it won’t be good. You move to sit up, but a wave of dizziness yawns open in your stomach and you lean back once more. You go to steady yourself, but your hands don’t move- they’ve been tied together with rough rope.

You had done your best to stay silent, but it’s not like you’re alone. Across the clearing, about a dozen or more boys dressed in robes of faded brown dance around a campfire. An almost maniacal glee spreads across each of their faces as they whirl and jump around, dancing to the haunting sound of a flute. The music stops after a second, but the boys continue dancing. You shiver slightly, then straighten up as a new boy approaches you. This one is dressed not in the russet tones of the others, but instead a dark, forest green. He must be their leader.

He crouches down in front of you, eyes gleaming with triumph. “Welcome, princess.” You raise an eyebrow at his tone. “An interesting welcome, sure. Nothing says fun like ropes and a kidnapping.” The boy just chuckles. “It wasn’t like you made it easy for us.” You shrug, eyes wandering away from the boy to skim the trees surrounding you. An idea is starting to click into place in your head. There’s a story you heard once, from a traveling merchant. There was an island deep in the ocean, full of boys who never seemed to grow old. They were led by one in particular, one boy who could make grown men shiver in their boots.

Your attention snaps back to the boy. Now you really look at him, at his knife-sharp grin and the cool confidence he wears like a glove. His smirk widens as if he can read your mind. “Do you know where you are, love?” You sigh, leaning your head back against the tree in exasperation. “Let me guess, I’m on Neverland.” The boy spread his hands as if in pride, and you resist the urge to groan.

If this is Neverland, then the boy in front of you must be Peter Pan. And you have heard enough about Peter Pan to know that any hour spent with this devil of a boy will be absolute hell.

Pan notices the realization sink into the girl’s eyes. She must have heard of him, he assumes, or she wouldn’t be looking at him like that. However, unlike the other visitors, there isn’t a shred of fear in her gaze. No, she just looks like she’s been dealt an unfortunate round of cards, rather annoyed instead of outright afraid. Pan’s not sure how he feels about that.

Y/N considers the rope tying her wrists. “Well, Peter, are you going to untie me or just let me stew here for a while?” Pan frowns. “It’s Pan. And no, you may be a princess but that doesn’t mean we’re all going to bow to you whenever you ask. There’s only one monarch in Neverland, and I’m afraid that title belongs to me. You’ll have to sit tight until they find out you’re missing.” Y/N scoffs, and then her eyes grow alight with suppressed laughter. “Wait- I think I know why I’m here. You’re trying to use me as a hostage.”

Y/N laughs even harder now, and Pan frowns. “I’m not sure why that’s funny. Your kingdom has been infringing upon my waters for a long time now. I intend to stop them.” Y/N shakes her head, doing her best to bite back a grin. “No, I get it. Great motive, but I’m afraid you chose the wrong hostage.” She fixes him with a cool look, finally keeping her laughter in check. “I’ve been kidnapped a couple of times before. Trust me, they won’t come for me. Not the guards, not my parents. I’m not useful to them.”

Pan frowns, curious despite himself. “What do you mean, you’re not useful to them?” Y/N shrugs. “The reason my parents became the King and Queen is because they were able to channel the power of my ancestors. Every monarch in my kingdom uses some magical artifact to gain increased strength, life, wisdom, you name it. The only problem is that it doesn’t work with me, so I’ve ceased to be a worry to them. I can’t use magic at all- not for them, not for you. You can hold me on this island for as long as you want, but it won’t work. They’re not coming after me.”

The words are light, spoken with the last traces of a laugh, but Pan still feels his stomach clench with some unnameable emotion. Maybe Y/N is meant to be a Lost Girl, maybe she’s more lost than any of them. This though alone fills him with loathing. If she’s a Lost Girl, then she’s supposed to stay on the island, even beyond her sentence as a hostage. Pan, however, is fairly sure that he doesn’t want to see this girl longer than a second. She had better be wrong about her parents, because Pan is certain that he’s going to end up killing her before the guards arrive on the shores of Neverland to rescue her.

You wake early, just before dawn begins to stain the tops of the trees with the light of morning. You stand up, stretching, and glance around the clearing. The Lost Boys appear to have gone to sleep, Pan included. They’ve left you alone for now, but you have no doubt that they’re still watching. Besides, it’s not like it would matter anyway- there’s nowhere for you to go. You’re on an island, after all, and there’s no way you could swim far enough to reach another nation’s shores.

Careful not to make a sound, you meander over to the campfire. Your hopes are proven correct when you spy a knife lying abandoned in the dirt. You pick it up, beginning to saw away at your ropes as you walk out of the clearing. You toss the cut ropes behind you, tucking the knife into your boot just in case. On an island like this, you never know when you might need a weapon.

You end up walking for about ten minutes before you get the feeling that you’re being watched. You roll your eyes. “I know you’re there, you can come out now.” One second you’re alone, and the next you’re being shoved up against a tree, an arm against your throat to stop you from moving. “You know, I’m fairly sure escaping prisoners aren’t supposed to call out to their jailers.” You scoff, pushing Pan’s arm away from you. “I appreciate the concern, Peter, but I’m not trying to escape. I’m just having a good time exploring the forest.”

You can see Pan’s eyes darken when you use his first name, but he ignores the jibe. “Who said I care about your wellbeing? I’m just making sure that you aren’t getting any ideas about an escape.” You give him a look, continuing on along the trails of the forest. “Anyone stuck on an island with you would think about escape.” He just chuckles, walking alongside you. “Tell that to my Lost Boys. They’ve chosen to leave the world behind to live on Neverland.” You smirk at him. “And what a sorry, sorry choice they’ve made.” He glares at you, but you just grin.

If you’re going to have to stay on this accursed island, you at least intend to enjoy yourself. 

Y/N wakes up every morning to walk the island. Pan’s not sure why she bothers- there’s nowhere for her to go. Yet every dawn she wakes like clockwork, opening her eyes and beginning her wanderings. Pan has wondered if she’s awoken by nightmares, and that’s why she gets up so early, but if she’s plagued by night terrors Y/N is very good at hiding it. She doesn’t seem concerned at all, just keen to see the forest. Pan’s long since given up on the binding ropes- she just finds some way to remove them. 

Pan’s watching his Lost Boys practice fighting when he senses another pair of eyes watching the sparring boys. He glances up to see Y/N, half hidden among the trees. Her gaze is glued to the boys, and he can almost picture her dissecting every move. There was an opening, when John stumbled, there was an opportunity, when Devin swung too low. Pan’s never heard of a princess that could fight, but if there ever was one, he’s sure that it would be her. Y/N lacks many of the key characteristics of a princess- charm being one of them. He wouldn’t be surprised if she could hold her own in a fight.

After the match ends with a triumphant Devin raising his fists to the sky, Pan steps forward. Instantly, the eyes of the Lost Boys all flash to him, including Y/N’s. He doesn’t speak that often, usually allowing Felix to lead classes. When he does have something to say, the Lost Boys tend to listen. Pan gestures for Y/N to step out of the grove of trees. “Well, princess, care to join the ring? Or are you all talk as we thought?”

She laughs, but Pan can see the glint of a challenge rising in her eyes. Y/N steps forward, and Pan points out a Lost Boy to act as her opponent. “Nick, I’d usually tell you to not rough her up too bad, but to be honest, I think we all want to see her get punched.” Y/N smirks. “If that’s true, why don’t you come down here and fight me yourself?” It’s a challenge, certainly, but Pan speaks before it can gain traction with the Lost Boys. “I’d never dirty my hands fighting someone like you.” Y/N, wisely, says no more, and shifts into a fighting stance opposite Nick.

To be honest, Pan does have to feel bad for the guy. No matter what he tries, Y/N throws him away like he’s nothing. She blocks his attacks, she punches and kicks and basically tears the guy to shreds. It would be humiliating were it not for the fact that Y/N is so obviously better than anyone on this island except for Pan and maybe Felix. Y/N flashes Pan a grin, extending a hand lightly coated in blood that does not belong to her. “Want to send another Lost Boy into the ring, or have you accepted the fact that I’m not going down easily?” Pan returns her smile. “I think I’m good.” And maybe, he just might be okay with all of this.

You’re relaxing by the campfire in the morning when you first hear the sounds of running footsteps. After that fight with Nick (although fight isn’t exactly the right word for it, maybe instead you could call it a bloodbath), the other Lost Boys accepted you immediately. Even Peter seems to approve of you now, and you catch him smiling softly at you across a clearing when he thinks you can’t see. You’re not sure why you notice, or why you keep thinking about it, but you’re fairly sure he shouldn’t linger behind your eyes as long as he does.

You look up at the swiftly approaching pair of Lost Boys, expecting to see them collapse in laughter, but the boys instead look worried, faces drawn with anxiety. You stand up, suddenly tense. What could make these boys look so nervous? They run over to Peter, practically tripping over themselves in an attempt to make it to their leader. Even from here, you can hear their words. “Guards- a ship full- the king and queen- they’re attacking us.”

You can see Peter’s face freeze. He speaks to them quickly. “They were flying the flags of Y/N’s kingdom? You’re sure of it?” They nod. “They’re pouring down the beaches now. They’ll be here any second.” Peter curses under his breath, calling to the rest of the boys to grab weapons and defend the camp. You race over to him. “I can fight. Give me a weapon.” Peter stares at you. “You’d fight against your parents?” You nod. “They’re not here for me, they’re here for the magic on the island. Trust me, they wouldn’t come all this way if they didn’t think they could get something out of it.”

Peter’s brow furrows as he realizes what you’re saying. “You think that’s why they’re here?” You nod. “There’s no other reason. I’ve been kidnapped before, they never came. They’re not here for me.” You repeat, and Peter’s jaw clenches. “Get a sword, you can fight with the others.” He starts to move away, then steps back to you. “And Y/N? Stay safe.” You nod, returning the assurance of safety. Then the two of you run your separate ways, each desperate to save the island that’s somehow become your home in a matter of weeks.

You pull on a hooded cloak so the guards can’t recognize you. You can’t take the chance that they’d try to bring you back to the ship, not when you’re supposed to be fighting for Neverland. Your sword moves in a never-stopping arc, cutting through armor and slicing the soldiers like the warriors of old. At last, you pause for a second, noting that the situation on the beach has cleared. Yet you don’t see your parents, even though the Lost Boys said they were here. A chill rises in your throat as you realize what must be happening, and you turn and race back to the camp. Back to Peter.

Sure enough, your parents have found him. They’re using all of their magic against him, doing their best to take him down. Peter is strong, far stronger than either of them. Yet the two of them and additional guards against one Lost Boy isn’t a fair fight, even if it’s against Peter. Your heart is pounding in your throat. You’re going to have to make a decision, one you promised yourself you’d never have to make. 

You fling your arms up, and a wall of magic slams into your parents. They crumple to the ground along with the guards and lie there, unmoving. You can tell that they’re still breathing, albeit slowly. Peter’s gaze flashes from the suddenly unconscious guards to you, who stands there still, breathing heavily. Your arms are still raised from the burst of magic, and you lower them slowly. His gaze seems to burn right through you, and you begin to speak quickly, desperate to say something, anything, to stop the cutting look in his eyes.

“They never saw me, their backs were turned. We can get them onto the ships and away. They’ll think it was you, that you were too powerful for them. They won’t return. They won’t know about me.” Peter steps forward, but your feet feel leaden in your boots. You’re not sure you could move if you tried. His voice is quiet. “You do have magic.” You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t want them to know. I knew if they found out they would use me as a weapon, and I didn’t want to live as their blade.”

Understanding begins to dawn in Peter’s eyes. “You didn’t need the artifacts because you already had power of your own. You were smart to hide it from them.” His brow furrows again, confusion sweeping over him. “Why would you show me? Why would you trust me?” You look away. “You let me into your island, into the Lost Boys, without knowing about my powers for a second. I served no use to you, not even as a hostage. You didn’t want me here because of how I could help you, you wanted me here because of who I was. That’s why.”

Peter’s quiet for a second, and you begin to think that you’ve said too much. “They’ll probably find out after a while. I can board another ship, make my way back to the Enchanted Forest. They won’t bother you if I leave.” Peter says nothing, and you almost fear that he won’t say anything at all. That he’ll let you leave without another word, too wounded over this lie. Then his hand is on your cheek, guiding your eyes back to him, and he kisses you.

He kisses you for a second, then breaks away. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot on your cheeks. “I’m not letting them take you. Not now, not ever. I don’t want you to leave, Y/N. You’ve been a Lost Girl since the day you arrived and I can’t let you go because you want to protect us.” A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips. “What happened to there only being one monarch on the island?” Peter laughs quietly. “I’ll make an exception for you.”

[oftenderweapons]

YOOOOO ITS MY BIRTHDAYYYYY🥳🥳🥳🥳 that is all sending a big hug

YOOOOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY MATEEEEE!!!!! Congrats, you have won Loyal Reader extra points, I have this commission you asked a century ago so yeah, happy bday sweets

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 1.8k

Genre: smut, basically pwp, mild angst

Rating: 18+ I DON’T WANT TO SEE ANY MINOR CLICKING ON THAT “READ MORE”, ARE WE CLEAR?

Trigger warnings: swearing, hard domme!Vixen, brat!Vixen, hard sub!Joon, strip-tease!Vixen, bondage, vibrating cockring, dildo, overstimulation (male receiving), daddy kink, mention of gagging (with panties), mention of porn, voyeurism and exhibitionism, cumplay, suspension of powerplay. And Switch!Joon, i guess, too. Very unprotected activities USE CONDOMS!!! Don’t eat cum unless the other person/people can prove they’re clean.

“My hands, please. I’m sorry,” Namjoon whined, breathing through his mouth, his chest gluttonously naked, your lipstick marking it here and there. “Vixen, baby.”

“No.” You spoke it with a smile, gathering some saliva in your mouth, your head ten miles ahead of you, already planning what to do after you got up from your legs-spread-bent-over-ass-right-in-front-of-his-eyes position.

He had been whimpering since the moment you found out he wanted you to go cougar on him.

And he’d enjoyed being the prey for once — however, technically, even though you always let him take control, he knew he wasn’t preying on an innocent lamb. You were his vicious fox even when you submitted to him.

“Vixen.” It was cruel. Feet? Bound. Hands? Bound. Dick? Very fucking trapped in a very fucking vibrating cockring.

“Do you need my panties in your mouth to stay quiet?” You rolled your eyes at the fact that you had to swallow and change your plans because he couldn’t for the love of him keep his mouth shut.

“But I’m gonna cum.”

You kneeled on the floor and smiled. “Not my problem.”

He sobbed and threw his head back. “Come on. How fucking long has it been, three hours?”

“Based on my playlist, only six minutes.” You loosened his necktie — currently around your neck — and undid the first couple buttons on his shirt — which of course you were wearing rather sluttily. And that little plaid skirt? The one he always teased you about when he gave you assignments and tests?

He was regretting it now. A lot. It slipped down your legs so torturously as you stood, planting a foot between his parted legs.

He stared at it — at the Louboutins he had bought you after you spent one entire weekend oversexing him — and regretted them too.

You cocked an eyebrow and forced him to look at you. “Still thinking about that stripper?”

“Which one?”

You smirked. The answer was, after all, correct. “I don’t know if I should be happy you forgot or be worried about you seeing way too many of them.”

“It was just porn. Come on. You know I belong to you. Head to toe—” He shivered his glutes flexing a couple times before he growled and arched all the way, his orgasm spilling over his stomach and abdomen. “Fuck— Fuck, fuck, fuck, Vixen!”

“Language,” you chirped, slipping three fingers into his open mouth and pressing his tongue down, drool dripping out causing you to smirk and giggle. “Such a sorry mess.”

He hummed, his hips still swirling as he still tried to find some relief.

You took a step back, wiping your hand against your mouth, Namjoon whimpering as the vibrations didn’t stop. “Switch it off!”

“What? The music?” You tugged the necktie off you, eyes on him as you faked realisation. “Oh! You mean the lights!”

“Don’t you dare act all that smug. Don’t you—”

“Can’t hear you,” you spoke back, undoing the buttons slowly, shrugging off the shirt and turning around, dropping to the floor, grabbing your ass and squeezing it as you rotated your hips slowly, kneeling forward on your elbows, crawling forward until your arms adhered entirely to the floor, your back fully arched as your cheek met the floor.

“Touch yourself,” he growled darkly and needily.

“Do I need to remind you who’s in charge?” You sneered as you turned around to look at him. He had recovered from his post-orgasmic blues and sensitivity and was well on his way to a second high.

So you stood up and turned to face him. The remote to the toy was safely strapped between your breasts, hooked on your bra. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“Vixen.” He loved how flawless your evil plan was. You had designed it to make him livid. And it was unwillingly playing out to the T. Knowing you, he realised you had probably calculated him being obnoxiously talkative.

He tried his theory. “Come over here.”

You were entirely lost in the music, eyes closed, jamming to it almost naked in front of your tied up boyfriend. Well, fiance. “Or what?”

“You damn brat—”

“Are you gonna spank me, daddy?” you taunted him coquettishly. The laugh that followed had Namjoon considering whether he made the greatest mistake of his life by getting addicted to you.

“I swear, if I get my hands on you—” he said, his voice raspy.

“I’m wondering how that is going to happen…” you mused, still moving to the beat of the music, the swaying of your hips reminding him why he always let you ride him that much.

He shrugged and shook his head, a drip of precum reminding him he was definitely overestimating his liberties. “I won’t be tied up forever.”

“I can lock myself in the guestroom,” you reminded him.

“But you can’t stay locked in there forever,” he replied with a sadistic smirk.

One more shrug before you lowered the vibrations — he was enjoying the toy way too much. “Too bad you’re a workaholic and I’m alone most of the time I’m in here.”

He kept a straight face at the stimulation fading, but he was not as serene about the reminder. “I’ll work from home.”

“Don’t bother yourself for me.”

Your remark poisoned him. “Come over here, babylove. Please.”

You obeyed. Not without grabbing the dildo that had been mocking Namjoon from the very first second of your striptease. He knew you would fuck yourself with it and keep him salivating, watching.

You placed it between his legs and kneeled, untying his ankles. “Keep it still.”

“Please, Vixen.” He wouldn’t be able to stand that.

You shook your head. “Maybe you don’t get it yet, but you must do what I tell you.”

He followed your instructions and stayed quiet. He watched you drool all over the toy before you collected his sticky cum with your fingers. You observed your fingertips for a second, then drew the tip of the silicone cock.

“Miss.”

You looked at him. His eyes were darker, his face more relaxed, no scrunching or pouting or begging. “Yes, Joonie bear.”

“Are you going to lick that, miss?” He had given up. He had pushed you too far.

“What would you like me to lick, Joonie? The dildo? Your cum on my fingers?” Your voice was more gentle and calm this time, no mocking in sight.

“The cum.”

You didn’t think twice. You licked your fingers clean, then straddled Namjoon comfortably, holding the toy as you tried to insert it.

“Doesn’t it hurt, Miss?”

You smiled. This was the submissive you wanted from the start. “It feels just fine, Joonie bear.” He was drenched in sweat, and you had to push his hair off his face to look him in the eye properly. You kissed his jaw, eyes rolling shut as the toy — significantly smaller than Namjoon — slipped in effortlessly. “I'm sorry I was mean to you, love.”

“It's okay.” Seeing him from this up close, so tired and weak, softened you a little.

“I said bad things about your job. I didn't mean it.” You pressed your lips to his, and he whimpered into your mouth, moving the dildo as he shifted for relief. “Do you need me to slow down? Are you still into this, baby?”

“Yes, I'm feeling good, Miss. Please, use me.” He looked so broken. “Use me.” This time he was truly begging.

“Can I use the toy just once? I'll use you afterwards, I promise, darling.” You stretched to kiss his brow. “I promise.”

He nodded, speechless, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he smelled the way his cologne changed as it mixed with your perspiration. It was more opulent and decadent, it became more exotic and dark, almost sweet.

“I wanna put the vibrations on max so I can press your ring to my clit and cum like that.”

He stretched to your mouth. “Please, do it.” He licked your jaw, his arms twitching. He would have grabbed your ass if he were free. He would have helped you grind on him, on the toy, on whatever.

You changed the setting quickly, feeling Namjoon exhale against you, slowly, his breath so cool on your burning skin. “I'm gonna cum again. I'm not sure I can fuck you after that, if that's what you were thinking.”

“You can,” you reassured him. “I'll give you a pause and fuck your face in the meantime.”

He cackled. “That's what I meant by 'use me'”. He groaned once you grabbed his cock, fixing its angle so that the knob of the ring rested on your clit perfectly. “Are we still power playing?”

You shook your head. “We're back to us if you want to.”

He nodded. “I want to.” You both hummed as you started undulating a little on him. Your tummy stroked his sex, the ring took care of your clit, your front adhered to his as you abandoned your body on top of his. “It was fun. But extenuating. I miss my daddy.” You kissed his neck, nipping at it very lightly.

“Daddy's always here, Vixen. Always yours.” He recognised your approaching high. Maybe you would be faster than him and—

There. You were done. Your thighs tightened all of a sudden, your body tensed for maybe five seconds before it all came loose. “Joonie,” you whined out, relief washing over you as you found the utmost pleasure. “Daddy,” you called, Namjoon fighting against the manacles restricting his wrists.

“I'm here, baby. I just need my wrists free, baby fox.”

You stayed loose and lazy for half a second before switching off the toy. Namjoon sighed in relief, your body once more abandoned against his. “Baby fox, free my wrists, please.”

You did as you were told, your hands skillfully operating without you even looking.

“Good girl,” he rewarded you as you undid the first cuff. He stayed still until they both plopped onto the comfy pillow of the armchair. “Get off that toy, babylove. Now.”

You lifted high enough for him to remove the dildo from inside you.

“I told you I would destroy you once you'd free me. Am I correct?”

You looked up at him. And there it was, that little cocky grin. “You said you would spank me.”

“I did not. I let you believe it.”

You faked outrage as you unglued yourself from him and stared. “Unfair!”

He pulled you closer and slid inside you, almost impaling you. “Fuck!” you squeaked before he grabbed your face.

“What?”

“Fuck,” you spat out. “Me,” you added, a look of challenge in your face.

He grabbed the back of your thighs and next thing you knew, your back was pressed to the wall, his hot chest against yours. “Hold on tight.”

[lovely-ateez]

Broken Strings~

ꕥPosted: 7/20/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, College!au, Rockstar!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Yunho

ꕥWord Count: 10k+

ꕥWarnings (please read all!!): Yunho’s ex is an absolute asshat, death threats towards both Yunho and reader, mention of knives used as weapons, San is a bisexual king (happy late pride month), unprotected pool sex/public sex (no one is around but I guess it still counts), masturbation (f), foul language, mentions of alcohol intake, reader is mentioned to have dark brown eyes several times which you can just ignore if you have different colored eyes ofc, mentions of a restraining order against an ex, please let me know if I missed something!!

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay @nevieatiny 

ꕥA/N: The song lyrics are ones that I wrote myself specifically for this au and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous about posting it. I know there isn’t any tune or anything, but hopefully it sounds like a real song someone might sing. Also I’m not writing angst for a while after this holy shit I’ve been crying too much over this I’m emotional okay

“Date night! Date night! Date night!” I grabbed my boyfriend’s arm, bouncing on my toes.

Yunho raised a hand to cover his ear, scrunching his face, “Babe, I love you, but I think you’ve deafened me.”

I pouted at his tone and crossed my arms, “You’re such a grump.”

“Oh whatever.” He smiled, “You ready?”

I smiled at him and nodded.

Ever since his band, Sidekick Heart, began to pick up traction, he had less free time and our full-day dates once a week soon became date nights every few weeks. Most of his time was spent writing songs, producing them, and practicing endlessly. The fact that he had a tour coming up soon just meant he had even less spare time. I was happy for him, of course, but I couldn’t hide my disappointment that he was leaving.

In middle school, he and three of his friends formed a band for fun, which they kept with all throughout high school. They got good, really good and almost right after they graduated they were signed by a label. Now, three years later, they’d already released two albums and one EP and earned enough money to make a living, which was why Yunho dropped out of college a month ago. Since he had steady career path, he saw no reason to continue and decided to focus on music. He still visited me at college whenever he got the chance, but his visits were becoming more and more sporadic.

We started dating freshman year of college. We had our difficulties as most couples do, but everyday I thanked the stars for pairing us together. I met him on the first day of French class, a day I know I could never forget, no matter how how our future played out.

I sat my backpack on the table in front of me, looking around the empty classroom. I was ten minutes early, so I wasn’t surprised about the lack of students. It was a bit unlikely for me to be so early, but I wasn’t able to sleep the night before and so I had extra time to get ready. With nothing else to do, I took out my phone, reading some missed text messages.

I heard the door open and my head tilted upwards, meeting eyes with a fluffy-haired brunet. He shyly smiled at me and I returned the gesture. The man took a seat in the front row across from me, only a few chairs in between us. I found it cute that he liked to sit in the front of the classroom, too. Very few people did. He turned away from me to place his backpack on the floor and take out a few books. I took the opportunity to look at him. He was attractive, for sure. His short sleeved solid black shirt followed his movements, tattoos peaking through his top. The shirt itself tucked was into ripped jeans, his black shoes matching the outfit, along with various accoutrements. His look was uncommon for college students, most just wore sweatpants with with a casual shirt. I thanked myself for dressing nice that day.

I tilted my head to get a better look at his side profile. He was so handsome that I seemed to forget I was staring. I couldn’t help but get caught up in him, not realizing that I was no longer being subtle.

He spoke without moving to face me, “You’re pretty cute, too.”

“I-I what?” My eyes widened, realizing I’d been caught.

He turned, a charming smile on his face, “You aren’t exactly discreet.”

I took a breath, trying to form a coherent sentence, “Well...can you blame me?”

He pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile, “I appreciate the compliment. What’s your name?”

I hesitated before answering him, which brought a full smile to his face. He moved closer to me before holding out his hand for me to shake. I grabbed his hand and shook it, trying to keep my hands steady. His hand was soft, clearly he took care of himself.

“I’m Yunho.”

I smiled, observing the way he lit up as he turned my hand, placing a delicate kiss on my skin. I felt my face heat up and averted my eyes. Yunho chuckled as he released my hand. Both of us looked up at the sound of the door opening, a group of students entered, followed by a lady who I presumed to be the teacher.

Yunho looked at me, “Meet me after class?”

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt excitement build in my stomach, wanting nothing more than for class to end as soon as possible.

The instant the teacher ended her lecture she left with the rest of the students, who were talking among themselves. My eyes flickered to Yunho to find him looking back at me, his backpack now thrown over his shoulders.

“You have any classes after this?” He asked in a nonchalant manner. Later he confessed to me that he was far more nervous than he appeared, claiming that he fell in love with me at first sight.

I finished placing my notebook in my bag, zipping it up and putting the straps over my arms, “Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve got World Politics in ten minutes.” 

“Aww damn. I was hoping we could grab some food.” He reached into his pants’ pocket, pulling out his phone, “Maybe I could get your number instead and we could meet up later?” He wasn’t pushy or demanding, simply asking.

I nodded quickly, “I’d like that, Yunho.”

He suddenly became more shy, the tips of his ears dusting a beautiful shade of pink, “I like the way you say my name.”

I giggled, trying to hide my own shyness. I took his phone and entered my number, really hoping that he would text me. As if he read my mind, he confirmed what I was thinking.

“I’ll text you,” He looked at me with sparkling eyes before shaking his head, like he was pulled back to reality, “Oh uh...you should probably get to class.“ He raised a hand, somewhat awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah I probably should. I’ll see you around?”

He smiled, “I’ll see ya.”

-

It wasn’t long before he texted me, and it made my heart flutter that he kept his word. A day later we met up, grabbing ice cream and getting to know each other. He was a dance major and had to practically beg his parents to let him pursue dance. In return they said he had to repay them with getting straight A’s. He had one younger brother who was possibly the biggest baseball fan to ever exist, he roomed with three men he’d been friends with since kindergarten, and he absolutely adored my brown eyes.

“They’re just beautiful.” Yunho gushed, “Both times I’ve seen you they just sparkle and shine like they’ve got their own little galaxies in them. I’ve never seen anyone with such genuine, kind eyes.”

I let out a girly laugh at the compliment and covered my mouth with a hand, “You’re really trying to flatter me, aren’t you?”

“Depends. Is it working?” He laughed as he propped his head on one of his hands, leaning closer to me in the booth we were sitting in. We’d finished our ice cream long ago, now shamelessly flirting and getting lost in each other.

“It might be.”

“Well I do mean it. I’m not only trying to flatter you.”

The ringing of his phone caught our attention. He smiled apologetically and reached for the device. He sighed, reading the contact name and looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry I’ve gotta take this. It’s one of my roommates and it’s entirely possible they’ve set the house on fire.”

I laughed, “It’s okay, go ahead.”

Yunho excused himself as he answered the call, walking outside. I took a look around the shop we were in, smiling at all the decorations when I noticed a woman sitting alone, eating ice cream and staring at me. Her eyes were such an ice blue that they made her intimidating, to say the least. I wasn’t too surprised, I’d dressed nice and all throughout the day I’d been getting looks. Taking it as a compliment I smiled at her and waited for Yunho to return.

“So good news,” He started as he sat back down in the booth, running a hand through his hair, which was way more attractive than it should’ve been, “They haven’t burnt down the apartment, but San—he’s one of my roommates—his car ran out of gas a few miles away from here so I’ve gotta go help him. Can I drive you back to your own apartment first?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to worry you.” I waved a hand, “I can have a friend pick me up.”

He nodded, “If you’re more comfortable with that, sure, but I’d rather drive you home, if that’s okay.”

I nodded, walking with him as he guided me out to his car. We had our first kiss when he dropped me off, leaving me with the promise of another date, and he delivered. Time and time again he proved he truly cared about me, which inevitably led to a relationship.

We heard a loud crashing in the basement of the house and Yunho let out a frustrated groan, “Oh god it’s happening again.”

He walked over to the basement door, opening it and sighing at the loud yells emitting from below.

“What is it this time?” Yunho shouted.

Wooyoung’s voice rung out, “San won’t let me use the controller!”

The man in front of me placed a hand over his eyes, over the situation entirely, “You’re still fighting over that game?”

“Crash Bandicoot waits for no man!”

“San let him have the controller or I’ll come down there and I’ll beat both of your asses!” Yunho shut the door, giving me a tired smile and walking back to me, “You’d think we would’ve outgrown this stage by now. I’d fire them both and hire a new bassist and drummer if I could.”

“Okay that’s an absolute lie, and you say that like you’re any better. I saw you arguing with Seonghwa over the last bag of chips yesterday.”

He pointed a finger at me, not trying to hide the smile on his face, “Okay that was absolutely valid. I bought those and they were mine.”

I smirked. “My point still stands.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, changing the subject, “How about after our date I sing you a couple of our new songs?” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing my ear, “I wrote a few about you.”

I pulled back from him, feeling warmth spread in my chest. “Really? You did?”

Yunho wrapped an arm around my waist, “How could I not? You’re always my inspiration.”

I let out a string of incoherent gibberish which prompted the most adorable eye smiles from my boyfriend. I felt too honored to put my emotions into words.

“Go on.” Yunho motioned to the front door, “Grab your purse and head out to my car. I’ll let the guys know we’re going and I’ll meet you outside.”

I gave him a salute, “You got it cap’n!”

His eyes warmed, “God, I love you.”

“I know!” I teased before I grabbed my purse and skipped out of the house. The sun would be setting soon and I admired the several hues that were painted within the sky. I sat on the hood of his car, swinging my feet as I saw him walk out of the house.

“So where exactly are we going?” I tilted my head, looking forward to his response.

“Well I’ve got a couple ideas.” He held up his long fingers and counted off on them, “We could go bowling, or we could have a late night picnic, or maybe...” He moved closer, placing his hands on either side of me with a mischievous grin, “We could go swimming.”

My face lit up, “I haven’t been swimming in forever!”

“I know, that’s why I recommended it.” He laughed, “Let’s break into the swimming pool downtown. It’s definitely closed by now so we can be alone.”

I raised my brows at his words, a smile widening on my face, “Don’t we need to bring swimsuits, though?”

Yunho grinned at me and moved a hand to ruffle my hair, “Nope. We’re going without ‘em.” He lifted me off his car, “Hop in, babe.”

-

We approached the fence with our hands interlocked, a new message greeting us. A red and black sign with the words ‘No Trespassing’ was attached haphazardly to one of the metal wires looped through the fence surrounding the pool.

Yunho tsked, “Aw that’s cute. Like that’s gonna keep us out. This is basically our pool anyways.” 

I laughed, both of us knowing full well there was no method of security beyond the sign and fence. The pool had never installed security cameras and after word spread that the owner had a fear of advancing technology, we had no worry of being caught.

He cupped his hands, holding them out for me to step on. I placed my foot on his hands as he lifted me up, helping me scale the fence. I stepped back, feeling a thrill as Yunho jumped over. It was probably the fourth or fifth time we’d done this, but each time was just as exciting. We walked over to the edge of the pool, its light blue water and the dark blue of the sunset opposing one another but making a beautiful visual.

“Alright, off we go.” Yunho’s fingers danced to the hem of my shirt, then pulling it off and ridding me of the layer of clothing. He pressed several kisses to the exposed skin, making me shiver.

Yunho then pulled back from me, slowly removing his shirt and giving me a teasing look when he caught me staring at his abs, “I look good, don’t I?”

“Shut up,” I laughed, lightly slapping his strong, tattooed arm before removing my skirt, enjoying the way my boyfriend’s eyes devoured me. I returned the action when I saw him remove his jeans, something he was clearly enjoying as well.

I turned back to the pool only to be thrown over Yunho’s shoulders. He let out a string of laughs as I struggled to get down, fearing that he would throw me into the water.

“If you throw me into the pool I’ll kill you!” I laughed, squirming on his shoulders.

“No...I would never do something like that.” I wasn’t even facing him, but I could hear the smile in his voice, which was my only indication that he was about to throw me into pool.

Before I could try to make any sort of escape, he tossed me into the water. It was cold, but less cold than I expected it to be. I coughed up a bit of water as I resurfaced and when I opened my eyes I squinted at Yunho, annoyed at how attractive he looked with the evil smirk on his face.

“You’re a jerk.” I said with no venom behind my words.

“Yeah, yeah. Brace yourself I’m coming in.”

I barely had time to move before he jumped in, his legs tucked to his chest. “Cannonball!”

I moved my hands in front of my face to block the wave of water coming my way, not feeling any surprise about my boyfriend’s childish behavior. When he resurfaced he faced me with a smile, wading towards me, embracing me in his arms, and wrapping my legs around his waist. He was so tall that he could reach the bottom of the pool without having to swim, unlike me, where I was no near reaching the bottom and needed to swim in place. With a satisfied hum he pressed several wet kisses to my neck.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by my skin.

“I love you too, babe.” I hesitated before I said my next words, still overwhelmed at how strong my feelings were for him, “You’re the love of my life.”

He pulled back with a bright smile on his face, his eyes shining almost as if he was tearing up, “I knew you were the love of my life the moment I saw you. And you’re all mine.” Yunho said before he placed a delicate kiss to my lips.

“All yours, babe.”

His long fingers danced along my sides, grabbing at my hips as he began to attack my chest with kisses. I giggled as the feeling of his stubble tickled my skin.

“You know, you really ‘oughta shave before you get a full beard.”

“Why? Are you saying I wouldn’t look good with one?”

I cupped his face, “You’d look amazing with one, but I thought you didn’t like beards, babe?”

“Hate ‘em.” Yunho’s laugh echoed around us, “Really weird that men can grow them in the first place. But anyways...”

His hands made quick work of my bra, letting it sink to the bottom of the pool. I opened my mouth to scold him but before I could his mouth latched to my right nipple, sucking and nipping on it in a way that made my hands seek out his hair and tug harshly at his locks. Letting out a growl, Yunho placed one hand on the the pool wall for balance and the other on my back, drawing abstract shapes there.

Yunho moved to my other nipple, giving it the same treatment and smiling when he heard my moans. In a flash he removed his hand from my back and pressed me against the pool wall, his hand now traveling to my panties.

As he removed the final item of clothing he ran a finger over my clit, giggling to himself. I gave him a look and he clarified, “Babe, you’re wet enough to fill an entire swimming pool.”

I groaned, pressing my head into his chest, “You make that same god awful joke every time we come here.”

“And as such I couldn’t let tradition die.”

“Shut up and fuck me.” I laughed, promptly helping him out of his boxers.

He continued to tease me after, switching between playing with my clit and stretching me out with his long fingers. By the time he finally gave in, I was a whimpering, pathetic mess, begging for more.

As he aligned with my walls he looked at me with delicate eyes, “Ready, little flower?”

I nodded quickly, chanting ‘yes’ over and over. Yunho once again placed a hand on the wall and hooked one of my legs over his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper inside me. He held my hand with his free one, a simple action that always melted my heart. Despite how long we’d been together, I would always get overwhelmed by him so easily. Everything about him exuded such a strong aura that sometimes just the smallest kiss would leave me breathless. The first time we were intimate he took his hand in mine and assured me he would be gentle, and every time since he’s held my hand. It wouldn’t feel right without our hands together.

“Shit—it’s been way too long since we’ve done this.” I said as he snapped his hips into mine, quickly repeating the action.

“God I know.” He let out a pained groan at the thought of it, “Four months is gonna be fucking awful without you.”

“Guess we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got now.”

“Guess we will.”

The sounds of water splashing and the echos of our moans, a symphony I had become so familiar with, was gradually reaching its crescendo. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open but I forced them to be, needed to memorize everything about this moment. The sweat dripping down Yunho’s forehead, the tattooed muscles he was flexing, the sounds and praise he was emitting, and pleasure we were both feeling--I wouldn’t see nor feel this for the next four months.

A particular snap of his hips had me seeing stars and I called out to him, letting him know I was close. Within minutes, both of us were panting and reeling from our highs. Yunho pressed his nose against mine and both of us closed our eyes, enjoying each other’s presence.

“How come every time we come here it ends in sex?” I giggled.

He blinked and moved a strand of wet hair out of my face, “Because you’re hot and barely wearing any clothes and no one’s around.”

I blushed at his compliment, “I mean like I’m not complaining or anything.”

A cocky smile formed on Yunho’s face, “Well it certainly didn’t sound like you were a moment ago.”

“Yunho!”

The man laughed, lifting me up and spinning me around in the pool before cradling me in his arms.

“I hate to say it, but we do need to head back. The world awaits for us, I’m afraid.”

I sighed, pressing into his chest, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He stilled as he pulled me closer, “I’m gonna miss you, too. You don’t have to miss me yet, though.”

“I know.” I swallowed, wishing I had something more to say.

“Come on, then.” Yunho gave me a quick kiss, “Let’s head back.”

-

Yunho held the front door open for me, giving me a gentle slap on my ass when I walked through. I turned around and gave him a playfully annoyed look, which he only laughed at.

As we walked towards the living room, the sound of a random sitcom filled our ears. Six heads turned our way after hearing our footsteps. Seonghwa was resting his head against his long-time girlfriend. She was a sweet girl and complimented him more than any woman I’d seen him with. They really were soulmates, if they ever existed.

San was sitting holding hands with a man he’d been interested in for awhile. I’d often see him flirting with various men and women, but he never went any further than that, too afraid of commitment. This man; however, seemed to breaking through San’s walls. I really hoped they would work out, San deserved someone as kind as him.

Wooyoung sat across from the them, who acknowledged us first.

“Hey guys. Have fun?” Wooyoung asked, smiling at my soaked hair. He had his arm around a woman I’d never seen before and I was certain that none of us would ever see her again. He had the reputation of a playboy, and every poor woman thought they’d be the one exception, the one to make him stay. I’m sure the allure of being a drummer in a band was part of his appeal, too. Maybe one day, like San, he’d settle down.

The woman became visibly upset when Wooyoung looked me with a teasing glance. Feeling sympathy for her, I decided to do my best to calm her nerves.

I spoke for us, linking hands with my boyfriend. “Yeah, we did. I think we’re gonna go clean up though.” I looked at the woman, “I’m y/n, by the way. I’m Yunho’s girlfriend.”

She didn’t even try to hide the relief on her face. “Oh! I’m Solar. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung started, “Best girlfriend he’s ever had. Much better for him than Lucy.”

Yunho glared at the man, “Thought we agreed not to bring her up?”

Lucy, the woman Yunho dated before me, was arguably the scariest person I’d ever heard about. They dated for roughly three months before she became obsessive, to the point where Yunho had to get a restraining order against her. She threatened to hurt all of Yunho’s friends and family, all because she wanted Yunho all to herself. That was about all Yunho ever told me about her. Not that I complained. I didn’t exactly want to discuss his exes, even more so when they were that crazy.

I never told him, but I knew I saw her the first date we went on. I could see the way her piercing, ice eyes saw through me. I had no doubt it was her. I just hope I’d never see her again. Maybe now that she saw he was taken she’d leave us alone. There was an uncomfortable silence following, none of us knowing what to say until San spoke.

“You look like a wet dog, Yunho.” San joked, prompting laughter from a few of us, which seemed like more of a noise of relief rather than one of actual humor.

“Yeah, yeah.” My boyfriend relaxed his shoulders, “I think we’re gonna head in for the night so don’t make too much noise.” Waving them goodbye he caught up with me, placing a hand around my waist.

“Shower with me, doll.”

I placed a hand on his chest, “I would love to.”

-

I came out of the shower wearing my favorite large shirt of Yunho’s, drying my wet hair with a towel. The smell of chlorine had gone away for the most part; whatever chemicals the owner put in that pool always made the smell harder to get rid of. Only a small price to pay, I figured.

My boyfriend, who was much quicker than I was, looked up from his phone as he was splayed out across his bed. His tired eyes smiled at me while motioning me over. Yunho’s own hair was still drying and with his bare face and crooked smile, he was as handsome as he could ever be.

“Hey there.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He reached an arm out to me, pulling me against him when I took his hand, “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.” I hummed, sleepily smiling against his neck.

“Too tired to listen to the song I wrote for you?”

“No! Not at all.”

Yunho chuckled, slowly brushing my hair aside and turning his head to look at me. As he had countless times, he took a breath before he turned to me, beginning to sing.

“You give me fireworks

I’ll give you the kindest words, my dear

Your love caught me

The moment I met your eyes

And how could I not fall?

Your heart bared, no disguise”

I fought to stay awake although his melodic voice seemed to be lulling me to sleep. I felt myself losing consciousness, but managed to catch the last few lyrics he sang to me.

“Now I sunbathe in the daybreak

Half asleep, half awake

Writing this song

As I hope I’ll dream of you”

Yunho brushed his fingertips brush against my face before he spoke, “Goodnight, flower.”

I muttered some form of a “goodnight” before I felt sleep take over me, nuzzling happily against my boyfriend.

-

I woke up in a panic, unsure why my heart was beating so fast until I looked at the clock. Eleven in the morning. I was an hour later than I should’ve been at my job. It seemed that even unconscious my body knew I was late.

“Oh shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I spoke with wide eyes.

Jumping from Yunho’s bed I stripped myself of his shirt and quickly threw my clothes on. The body that laid beside me stirred, moving the covers aside.

“Are you leaving?” He asked sleepily, his face puffy from sleep and an adorable pout on his lips.

I frowned, “Yeah. I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together, babe.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. Both of us slept in.”

I tied my hair back, sighing. I was so caught up in my thoughts I almost missed Yunho’s question.

“Sorry what was that?”

He smiled, “You’re coming to our going away party tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I moved back to the bed and hugged him, feeling my heart sink. I was proud of him, I really was, yet couldn’t help but feel sad that I wouldn’t see him for so long.

This was the longest tour they’d ever gone on and we’d never been apart from each other that long before. I trusted him and I was confident in our relationship, but realistically, all members of Sidekick Heart were attractive young men and a good portion of their fans were female. I was far more concerned about the female audience doing something than I was about Yunho making a move on another woman.

With one last squeeze of his shoulders I pulled back, goodbyes beginning to fall from my lips before Yunho pulled me back.

“I need a goodbye kiss.”

I pressed my lips together with a smile, gladly indulging him. Giving him one last kiss against the lips, I bid him farewell until the following day.

-

“So how was work?” My roommate asked as I walked in the house, propping her feet up on our couch and tossing a kernel of corn into her mouth, the lighting of the TV illuminating her blanket-covered body.

I sighed, sitting down on the floor next to her, “Other than being an hour and a half late and missing an important meeting I think it went okay. I’m just glad the day’s over.” Rubbing a hand over my face I turned to her, “What about you? How was your day?”

“Pretty damn good actually.” She smiled, removing the blanket and showing me the new ink on her upper arm. It was an assortment of flowers and matched her bubbly personality perfectly. They were now the fifth adornment on her beautiful dark skin, each one of them tempting me more and more to get a few of my own.

“Another one already, Tiff?”

“Listen, you’ll know how addicting they get as soon as you get your first.”

“You sound so confident that I will.”

“Oh I know you will. You’re dating a rockstar, after all. Not to mention he’s the goddamn lead singer and has tattoos of his own.”

“Shut up.” I giggled, “Speaking of, are you coming to the farewell party tomorrow?”

“I plan on it, but I’ll probably be there a couple hours late. My dad’s flying into town for the weekend so I plan on visiting first. I’m definitely coming though.”

I hummed, “Yeah, don’t worry too much about it. We all know it’ll go till sunrise anyway.”

She let out a loud laugh, likely remembering the last party of theirs we went to where she ended up more drunk than I’d ever seen her. She claims she remembers flashes of the night; playing strip beer pong and being dared to steal one of the neighbor’s bushes—which, after much convincing from those who were sober, she decided against it—but didn’t recall half of the hilarious memories of her the rest of us did. Personally, my favorite was watching her hold a tomato soup can and cry over the fact that it could never have children.

Tiff let out a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head, turning in my direction. Her words were muffled by her yawn as she spoke, “Imma go to bed now. You good before I go?”

I smiled at her, “Yeah I’m good. I won’t stay up too much longer, just need to go through my nightly routine of looking at the stars, ya know, the usual.”

She nodded, wrapping the blanket around her and heading to her bedroom, “Sleep well, babe. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Back at ya.”

It was a habit of mine, gazing at the night sky before sleeping. It gave me comfort knowing that out there, somewhere, there was something else out there with me. Almost like I wasn’t going through everything alone.

I set my purse down when I reached our kitchen, reaching for a tea pot and tea bags, brainlessly brewing my favorite tea as I thought of what Yunho might be doing right now. It was probably most likely that he was practicing for their tours, but I could only hope he was getting a little bit of rest.

I stepped out onto our porch to look at the stars with a cup of tea in my hands, the night sky twinkling with all the stars it could offer. A slight breeze rustled my hair and I closed my eyes, thankful for the pleasant weather. I heard a sudden snap of a branch and my eyes quickly opened as I searched out property for any sign of an aggressive animal. My eyes finally landed on a human-like figure. Feeling adrenaline run though me, I decided to confront whoever or whatever it was.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I spoke, my voice loud but not quite a yell.

The figure took off it’s hood to show their face, and I saw a familiar pair of ice blue eyes, though I hadn’t seen them in years, “I’m here to see you, of course.”

My brain quickly connected her to the woman I hoped I’d never see again.

Lucy.

“Well I don’t want to see you. Leave.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense, “But I came all this way! Just to...say hello.”

I took a step towards her, hoping that if I appeared confrontational she would leave me alone. “I don’t know who you are, now please leave. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Oh, you poor girl. You really think you have the upper hand?” She pulled out a knife, and walked towards me at impressive speed, pointing the weapon at my throat. “I know you’ve been seeing Yunho. I. Don’t. Like. That.” She emphasized every word of the last sentence, anger woven within her voice.

I wanted to fight back. Everything in me was screaming to fight back, but I knew I had no chance. I had no idea what she was capable of, and I didn’t dare to find out.

“I dated him first and he’s still mine. You’re going to break up with him, you hear me?” She screamed in my ear, the sound shaking me to my core, “I never want to see you near him again.” She grabbed my jaw harshly, forcing my eyes to lock with hers. “I bet he doesn’t even love you.”

My eyes watered. I knew she was wrong, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the harshness of her words I began to doubt myself.

Her grip tightened and I let out a yelp, “He loves me and I love him. He’s always loved me, not you. Why would he ever love a thing like you?”

She then threw me to the ground, towering over me, “Break up with him. Make him hate you. If you don’t,” She squatted down next to me, once more pointing the knife at my throat, “I’ll kill him myself and make you watch. Then,” She cocked her head, a crazed smile plastered on her face, “I’ll kill you. If I can’t have him, no one can.” She stood, smirking at me, “And you know I will.”

She kicked me in the stomach, watching as I crawled into myself, groaning from the pain. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t hurt me any more than she already had.

“I’ll be watching you at the party tomorrow. Do it then. Break his heart. I’ll kill him then and there if you don’t.” She looked down at me and scoffed, “And I’ll be bringing friends to make sure the job gets done.”

I carefully opened my eyes to see her stepping over me, walking back into the darkness from which she came. I scrambled back into my house, hyperventilating from the interaction I just had.

I spent the night crying, not able to sleep even for a minute. I tried to think rationally, but there were just too many variables. How many ‘friends’ was she bringing? Would she really kill Yunho in front of everyone? Where would she be watching me from? Is she watching me now?

I could text or call Yunho to let him know, but where would we go from there? He’d want to meet me and she’d kill him instantly. Right?

“Maybe I could pull him aside at the party and warn him?” I murmured to myself, “No, she could probably see that. Maybe there’s people actually at the party who are looking out for us, too.” I covered my face with my hands and fell back into my pillows, weeping as I knew I had to break up with the love of my life.

-

Choosing to wear a yellow dress honestly couldn’t have been more ironic. Yellow was supposed to be a happy color. A color of hope and yearning, innocence and warm days full of laughter. It was the complete antithesis of how I felt and what I knew I had to do. Even worse, the weather was perfect. It was sunny, but not so much to make it unbearable outside. Everything about today made my insides twist.

I took a breath at the door of Yunho’s house, bracing myself for what I had to do. Knocking a few times I heard a commotion inside before the man I came to see opened the door. His smile had never been bigger.

“Baby!” He cheered, pulling me into a bear hug and ruffling my styled hair, “I’m so excited you’re here!”

He looks so ecstatic. And I have to break him.

The thought crushed me and brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t let him die. I knew she was serious, I didn’t doubt that for a moment. I grabbed Yunho’s arm, pulling him outside and away from everyone in the house.

I looked at the ground as I felt my lips begin to quiver, “I’m sorry. I just need to get this over with.”

Yunho bent down to meet my eyes, “Hey, hey. What’s going on sweetheart?” His voice was gentle, one of his hands coming to rub the tears from my face, “I’m here for you, whatever it is.”

I looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. I hated myself more than I’d ever hated anyone. “I don’t love you, Yunho.” My hands began to shake beyond my control, my own body knowing I was making a mistake.

“W-what?” Yunho’s voice cracked. A moment of silence passed before he let out a hollow laugh, “Baby, you don’t mean that-”

I looked up at him and immediately wished I hadn’t. Tears were welling in his eyes, his own hands beginning to shake.

“I said I don’t love you Yunho!” I said louder than I intended, “Not anymore. I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry.”

He took a step back and I noticed his hands clenching, something he always did to keep himself from crying.

“If that’s what you want,” Tears fell from his eyes before he finished his sentence, “Then I’ll support your decision.” He looked to the side, not knowing what else to say.

I wanted nothing more than to throw myself in his arms and explain everything, tell him that I’ve never stopped loving him, not even for a second, but I couldn’t. Instead, I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and looked at him one last time. He was so fucking handsome, so goddamn kind, and here I was doing this to him. Maybe he did deserve someone better.

“Good luck with your tour, Yunho. I know you’ll be fantastic.”

I turned and walked away from him quickly, leaving the house and ignoring the stare I could feel on me. I ran across the yard to my car, starting the engine and leaning my head against the steering wheel. I felt myself lose all oxygen in my body, the only option left to take large gasps of air. My vision was so clouded by tears I couldn’t even see anymore. I’d just lost myself along with my other half. I’d never felt as empty as I did in that moment.

Just then I heard a knocking on my window. I half-hardheartedly lifted my head and felt my heart lurch. Yunho was standing outside my car, eyes red and puffy, looking at me like I was the last person he’d ever see. I opened my car without thinking, my breathing still as uneven as before.

Yunho spoke, his voice coarse and distant, “I’m not asking you to change your mind, but I need you to know that I have always loved you and I always will. That will never change.”

I wiped the snot from my nose but didn’t bother to try and fix the mascara I knew was streaming down my face. I knew I had to look horrible, but he still held so much love for me that it was easy to see in his eyes. I fought myself to not reply, knowing that if I’d open my mouth all I’d say was ‘I love you’ over and over again.

“Is it too out of line to ask for a last hug?” He smiled sadly as more tears poured from his eyes.

I shook my head, running into his arms and embracing him. I felt like I made a mistake the moment I did because I could smell him. He was wearing the cologne I bought him for his birthday. His warm, sturdy chest...everything about him felt like home.

“Goodbye, Yunho.”

-

I arrived at home alone, tears still stinging my eyes. Tiff was nowhere to be found and I couldn’t decide if I was thankful or sad for the fact that she wasn’t there. I barely made it out to our porch before collapsing once again, finding it harder and harder to breathe. I didn’t know how long I was sitting there, it could’ve been one hour or three, but given the setting sun it looked like it was the latter. Once more I heard a noise outside our home, and once more the female figure appeared before me.

“You did good,” Lucy said, twirling her knife in her hands, “Dare I say I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t ever want to see you here again.” I cried, “I did what you want now get the fuck away from me.”

“My, my. You have quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” She tsked, “But you did as I asked, so I might as well comply. Don’t; however, think that you can go crawling back to Yunho and tell him about this. I’ll keep watching you and if you decide to do just that...I’ll follow through with my promise.”

I kept my eyes on the ground, convinced that if I looked up at her I’d attempt to rip the hair out of her head. No anger I had ever felt before could surmount to the rage I was feeling.

“Nonetheless, it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss.”

As soon as she came, she was gone. When I finally let myself look up, I could no longer see her, only darkness. Once again, I was alone.

-

Six months had passed since I broke up with Yunho and today officially made the third new date I’d went on. All of them were absolutely horrible. It wasn’t even that the guys were mean or rude or weren’t attractive, they just weren’t him.

Why am I even trying to move on?

I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked heavy, the bags under my eyes ever prominent. I couldn’t fool myself. I’d never be able to be with another man again. I forced myself to hold back tears and reached back to untie my hair, preparing to take a bath in hopes that it would take my mind off of things.

I began to run the warm water as I reached for several candles, lighting them and placing them around the room, trying to forget the entire day altogether. As I waited for the tub to fill I grabbed my phone, opening Instagram for no other reason than to have something to do. Although Yunho and I broke up, I still followed their band account, as well as their individual accounts. Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung were still my friends, after all. Yunho was the only exception. Both of us unfollowed each other early on just because it was too painful. I didn’t hold it against him and hoped he didn’t hold it against me either.

Regardless, my eyes found the most recent post on Sidekick Heart’s account. All four members were shirtless, their hair dripping wet with goofy smiles plastered on their faces. They were standing by a pool, the same one Yunho and I would often break into. I noticed Yunho first, how could I not? His smile wasn’t as wide as the other’s, his eyes a bit colder, but he looked happy all the same. He looked good. Really, really good. He was always fit while we were dating, but he gained more muscle since I last saw him and it didn’t go unnoticed by their fans, either. I clicked the comment section against my better judgement, knowing what I was going to see before I even did so.

“Yunho looks like a fucking goddd”

“So Yunho’s still single right??”

“Yunhooo hmu I beg you”

“Jesus Christ Yunho break me please”

A surge of jealousy rushed through me. I hated when girls said those things when we were together, but now that we were apart it made it even worse. I had no right to be jealous, and that was the worst part.

The water reached my leg that was resting on the side of the tub and I scrambled to turn off the faucet. Doing my best to push the images from my mind I placed my phone aside and stripped from my clothes, settling in the water. I sighed as some water fell out of the side of the tub. It wasn’t a terrible thing to happen, but it seemed to just be another thing to go wrong.

My eyes wandered back to my phone, Instagram still open and the picture I was looking at earlier still on display. He was so fucking hot and seeing that he was standing next to that pool—our pool—made my brain short circuit. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from taking me back to the last night we broke in, the way we teased each other and how it inevitably led to sex. It seemed I had no control over my body as my dominant hand slipped between my legs.

But as much as I wanted it to be, it wasn’t the same. My fingers weren’t as long or slender as his and just nothing about our touches were the same, but the image of him just made my hormones rage. Every ounce of me craved him.

My fingers swirled around my clit, a bundle of pleasure shooting through me at the action. I closed my eyes, letting my body take over and repeat the motions and much as I fought not to, my brain kept replaying scenes of two of us again, and again, and again.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yunho spoke as I sunk down on his dick, barely finding the energy to lift myself up again even though the noises he made were like shots of espresso.

“Aww, is my baby getting tired?” He cooed, jerking his hips into mine.

“It’s not fair!” I whined, “I’m not good at this and you know it.”

“But we wouldn’t be a good couple if we didn’t encourage each other to work hard, right? Up you go, flower.”

I whimpered and pouted, but still obeyed him. Taking pity on me, Yunho grabbed my waist and lifted me, relaxing his grip as I moved downward. I made a noise that wasn’t understood by Yunho, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?”

“Please. More. I need you so bad.” I begged.

Yunho laughed, “I really do have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”

I nodded before remembering that he’d probably prefer a verbal answer, “Yes. I’m w-wrapped around your finger.”

He let out a noise of satisfaction before flipping us over into a position so that he would have full control. I grabbed the bedsheets roughly, so much in my own world that I didn’t hear Yunho’s words.

“What was that?” I let out with a series of mewls.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, too, you know? I don’t go an hour without thinking about you anymore. I can’t even have a single conversation without bringing you up. Anytime someone says your name my heart beats out of my damn chest. You’re the only woman for me.”

My legs shook as my high approached, barely able to breathe at it’s intensity. It took me a minute before I could even remember where I was. As I came to my senses, I felt tears biting at my eyes and this time I didn’t bother to hold them back. I watched as they streamed down my face and joined the now-cold water surrounding me. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, glad Tiff wasn’t home to hear my wailing. She’d been good about staying with me since the breakup, but tonight she just wasn’t here. The hole in my heart felt even deeper now. I wondered if he found someone, if he was happy now. Hell, maybe it was his ex. The thought tore my heart out and ripped it in two. I wanted to be happy for him if it was true, but I just couldn’t be. I was still too selfish. I still wanted him to love only me.

-

 New friends, new beginnings or whatever.

That’s apparently what I thought when I began attending more clubs at college after the breakup, meeting new people and eventually finding a really solid friend group. All who happened to really like punk-rock music.

“You should really go with us,” Shang directed his words at me, “There’s a new band popping up that’s playing this weekend. It’s three hours away but they have great music.” 

I sighed, not fully convinced although it did sound fun. The last concert I’d been to was one of Yunho’s and though I hadn’t even seen him in what felt like forever, I still couldn’t help myself from thinking of him anytime someone talked about concerts. Sensing my apprehension, the woman beside me spoke up.

“Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!” Tyra chanted in my ear, her black curls bouncing with her as she clapped her hands between the words. “Come on, it would be so much fun and you know it.”

I bit my lip, deep in thought. I knew I would have fun but I just didn’t know if that would outweigh the pain I would feel.

“What’s the band name?” I asked, looking at Shang.

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his head, “I was a little drunk when I told one of my friends I’d be there so I don’t even remember what they’re called.”

“How do you know they have great music, then?” I laughed, Tyra agreeing with me, apparently not knowing who was playing when she agreed either.

“I mean, my brother listens to their music and he’s got good music taste so they’ve gotta be good.”

I closed my eyes as I felt an oncoming headache, knowing they wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Fuck it.” I stated, “I’ll go.”

The two cheered, Shang promising that I’d enjoy myself. I doubted it, truthfully, but really it was decided that I’d go the moment the pair brought the idea up to me.

-

Our trio waded through the giant crowd as the doors opened to let us into the venue. It was big, one of the larger concerts I’ve been to. Whoever we were seeing was successful, for sure. The volume at which everyone was speaking was essentially a yell, so I had to do just that to get my messages through.

“I still can’t believe we have no fucking idea who’s playing!” I yelled at Shang.

He laughed, “I got seats towards the front row, though! I didn’t even have to pay for them!”

“That’s not gonna matter if we don’t know any of the lyrics, you dipshit!” Tyra barked.

“Okay okay I should’ve asked, I get that now.”

As we found our way towards the seats, there was a big projector with the words ‘Sidekick Heart’ displayed across it. My heart dropped and I suddenly felt it become hard to breathe.

“You got us tickets to a Sidekick Heart concert?” Tyra beamed, “I love their music and I’m practically in love with San! His vocals are insane! Holy shit, Shang!”

“Ohhhh yeah I remember now.” He chuckled.

I seemed to fade into the background as the two of them discussed their love for the band and the members. All I could think about was seeing Yunho again.

Would he see me? How would he react if he does?...Does he hate me?

I only came back to reality when the audience began to cheer and I saw all the members step onto stage. Seonghwa cradled his electric guitar, in one arm, waving at the audience with the other. Wooyoung plopped down behind the drum set, smiling at the audience while twirling a drumstick. With his bass guitar, San, ever the king of expressions, gave his best smoulder to the audience and it seemed like the audience collectively screamed over him. Then came Yunho out to center stage, his electric guitar in his hands and a smirk on his face as if he knew everyone in the damn building wanted to fuck him. And he’d be right. The spotlights on each of them made them look like actual gods. If I didn’t know them personally I would have thought they were.

Yunho leaned into the mic, his gruff voice taking me by surprise, “Hello everyone! Great to see you all! If you haven’t been to one of our concerts before this is how it’s gonna work: You’re gonna dance, we’re gonna sing, we’re all gonna have a fucking great time tonight!”

The crowd erupted as the first song began to play. It was one of their more popular songs and for good reason. All over it was a really well put together song and I couldn’t help as I began to mouth along to the words. Song after song played, some I knew some I didn’t, and the entire time I couldn’t look away from the man singing. He radiated confidence and looked relaxed as if he’d been performing for decades. I knew he wasn’t as cool as he seemed, I’d given him so many pep talks before performances I couldn’t count them, but as an outsider you’d never know.

I wonder who talked him up this time?

“Alright everyone. This is the last song of the night and-”

The audience booed, everyone upset at the night coming to a close.

Yunho laughed. The sound was rich and beautiful. He was truly enjoying himself. This is what he was meant to do, with or without me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

Yunho’s voice filled my ears. “I know, I know. I’d love to stay a bit longer, too. Here’s the thing though...” He paused and I opened my eyes only to see him looking back at me. His eyes automatically softened as they always did when he saw me, but as if he remembered how we ended his gaze hardened slightly, like he was trying to distance himself. It felt like we’d been looking at each other for hours before he opened his mouth to speak again, but I knew very well that my perception of time had been off for a while.

“Even if we only have this little time left, I’ve truly enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. The fact that it’s coming to an end soon is what makes it so special, I think.” Yunho broke eye contact with me, smiling slightly and glancing back out at the sea of people. “Seeing your smiling faces, your energetic cheers—all of it—is a reminder to me that we’re so lucky to be doing this as a job. Really...I love you all.”

The audience let out a chorus of ‘awws’ which was followed by several rather aggressive ‘I love you too’s.

The lead singer once more smiled, “Now, without further adieu, this is one of our newest songs and it’s called Brown Eyes, here it is.”

The music began to play, all instruments coming together to make a somber tune. Somehow they were always able to write music that perfectly encapsulated emotions or ideas. This one? Loss.

“Since you left you’re still so infused

In how I think and what I do

Can’t seem to get you to leave me alone

Your ghost stayed here and she watches my tears

That run down our picture frames”

Then he found me again in the crowd, no doubt able to see the tears staining my makeup, no doubt able to see how broken I was. And still, he sang.

“I’ve tried hard to fight it

Yet I keep givin’ in

There’s been no one but you

I’m trapped, confined

And your platinum smile still knocks me out

Every single time”

He kept eye contact with me, not once breaking his gaze. It was almost as if he wanted me to break first, as if he wanted me to look away before him. As if he was daring me to leave him again.

San stepped closer to his mic and took his eyes away from his bass guitar, Yunho’s voice being replaced by the purple-haired man. As his voice rang out I only could’ve hoped the next lyrics were about one of San ex’s, not me. Even if they weren’t, Yunho still looked at me.

“It’s not aimed at me 

Maybe it never was

But oh darling, you could’ve fooled me”

My eyes flickered down, unable to look at Yunho any longer. His gaze only broke my heart further and in turn I felt my eyes water. After a moment or two, I worked up the courage to look back at him. He was still looking at me like he never moved his eyes. I couldn’t seem to register the lyrics until Yunho began to sing again, his voice drawing me in as it always did.

“You've disappeared without a trace

Left an unsuspecting guise

Love, I need you to know

I’ve been losing far more than sleep

Over those deep chocolate eyes.”

As the song and the show ended and everyone in the crowd cheered, I felt a rush of emotions run through me. Thrilled that they’d become so successful, proud of them for putting on such an amazing show, and hurt because I could still see a sliver of sadness in Yunho’s eyes.

I hurt him.

Yunho then reluctantly said his goodbyes to the audience along with the rest of the members. His jaw tightened as he walked over to Wooyoung, whispering something in his ear before walking off stage. Feeling like I was set in a trance, I grabbed my Tyra’s arm and mumbled something about going to the bathroom before following him. I completely ignored her questions and concerns about where I was going, dead set on talking to him again even though I didn’t have a damn idea what I was going to say.

Somehow, through the giant maze of people, I was able to spot Yunho leaving through the backstage. Instinctively I ran towards him, still having no plan in mind. I only stopped when a purple-headed man appeared before me.

“Y/n!” He smiled, bringing me into a hug, “I missed you so much!” He pulled back from me, “We all did.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung came from behind me, both wearing sad, kind smiles. They looked healthy and happy, which was all I could’ve asked for them.

“How’ve you been, girl?” Seonghwa cocked his head, genuinely curious.

I hesitated, not sure if I should tell them the truth. But at the end of the day, they were still my friends. “Not...great. If I’m being honest. I was kinda hoping I could talk to Yunho...if I could.”

They all shared a look I couldn’t understand.

Wooyoung spoke up, “We’re having a party at a friend’s house after this, you should come.”

I was surprised, still not fully understanding the situation.

San frowned, “I think it would be good for you two to talk. He didn’t tell us too much about what happened, but I’m sure you had a good reason. You were always so good to all of us.”

“I can text you the address if you’d like,” Wooyoung added, “You still have the same number?”

I nodded.

“Okay, good. We need to get back but we’ll see you there. Take care, okay?”

“I will. Thanks guys.”

San pulled me in for another hug, “Of course.”

They waved as we parted ways and for the first time that night, I felt hopeful. I spotted Shang and Tyra and ran up to them, no doubt a smile on my face as I asked, “Soo...you guys up for a party?”

-

I ditched my friends the moment we arrived, barely even sparing a word with Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung once they nudged me in the direction of Yunho. I didn’t try to think too much about it, knowing I’d explain it all to them later.

He was standing in an empty bedroom, looking at the floor and sipping out of a red cup which likely contained liquor. When his eyes met mine a rush of memories flooded back to me. The first time we kissed, the first time he confessed he loved me, the first time he saw me cry.

The first time I broke his heart.

His eyes raised to mine, his face stoic, “Enjoy the show?”

My mouth opened and closed, not having any clue what to say to him, “Yunho I-”

“I know why you did it.” He said suddenly, “A week after you left me Lucy showed up to one of our shows and tried to convince me it was all a coincidence. Said that I could finally be with her. When I didn’t buy it she finally gave in and told me she convinced you we were better apart. So naturally I called the cops and they arrested her for breaking the restraining order, thank god.” He shook his head, looking disgusted, “You know I never wanted us to be apart. My question to you,” he took a step further towards me, “is why did you do it? Why did you end us?”

When I couldn’t seem to respond he talked once more, “You could’ve told me what she was trying to do. We could’ve worked it out together.” He looked more disappointed and heartbroken rather than angry.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yunho.” I bit my tongue as I fought back tears, “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I-I’m just-” I sobbed, “Lucy told me she would kill you if I kept dating you.”

Yunho’s mouth shut and eyes widened, clearly missing that bit of information. I took it as my cue to continue “I don’t know why she did it, but it’s probably because we were happy.”

More tears fell down my face and it became harder for me to talk, but I owed him the truth. I had to tell him the truth. I looked up at him but because of my tears my vision was blurred. Yunho’s hands were tightening into fists as he looked away from me.

“I couldn’t tell you because I had to protect you so I had to make you hate me and I’m just so sorry.” I fell to the ground, my body feeling as heavy as my heart.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I brought my eyes to meet his own, “I’m sorry.” A tear streamed down his cheek, heavy remorse in his eyes, “God she’s fucking awful.”

A laugh got caught in my throat, “Yeah she is.”

He set his cup down somewhere along the way a his hands cupped my face, finally whispering the words I’d only heard in dreams, “I still love you so fucking much. I never stopped loving you. I never even tried to stop because I know I couldn’t.”

I jumped into his arms and kissed him hard, unintentionally knocking him to the floor. He met my lips with just as much fire, groaning when I unconsciously bucked my hips into his, all my sexual frustration still pent up.

“I missed you so fucking much.” Yunho growled, obviously feeling needy too but deciding against it as he wrapped his arms around my waist, speaking in between kisses, “I missed your cute laugh. I missed your lips. I missed your fucking awful jokes. I missed the way you’d look at me whenever you told me you loved me. I missed your gorgeous body and your smile. I missed your moans and the way you arched your back when we’d have sex. I missed how alive you made me feel.” He pulled back to look at me, “My life had no purpose without you.”

I took a breath, tears once more falling, “Mine didn’t either.” It wasn’t anything profound or emotional, but it was the truth. It didn’t.

Gently picking me up, he placed me on the bed. His eyes were raw, as emotional as they could ever be. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me as if I would disappear at any minute.

“Stay with me. Come with us on the rest of the tour. If you can’t take a vacation we’ll hire you as an assistant. If you can’t do that we’ll make some other kind of accommodation. Just stay, please. Please be mine again.”

I looked at the man in front of me. The tough-looking, six-foot tall, tattooed, strong man that could probably scare the shit out of anyone. Yet here he was, bearing his heart to me and being as vulnerable as a person could be.

I smiled, feeling my heart swell. “I’ve only ever been yours.”

-

The morning was bright, lighting directly hitting my eyes. I cursed myself for not closing the blinds the night before and blinked off my sleep when I heard a familiar pleasant sound.

Jumping down from the bed I put on the new fluffy bathrobe my lover bought me. I followed Yunho’s voice out to my porch, realizing I was listening to a new song of his. The man was strumming a guitar, a beautiful melody falling from his lips. When he noticed me, he smiled and continued to sing.

“I’m in a vivid yellow mood

You’re my muse, my home and room

And now that I have you again

What could I ever fear?

Oh do me a favor, dear

And inscribe your name on my sleeve

Let me keep it there forever

Because you’re better than any daydream.”

[sankyeom]

i spy with my little eye | l.jy

pairings: lee juyeon x reader (she/her/hers pronouns) genre: spy au, rivals to lovers warnings: some descriptions of fighting, injuries, explosives, and guns summary: in which the company you work for is the main rival of juyeon’s company, and you’re known for always being one step ahead of him; even when it comes to realising his feelings for you (based on this timestamp that i wrote before the stealer came out) word count: 8.3k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

“I hope you understand how important it is that we get our hands on that file,” your boss, Mrs Kwon, explained to you after briefing you on your next mission. Your agency was the leading organisation in espionage, amassing over 30 countries. “The encryption on it is extremely advanced, so we’ll need it back undamaged so our cyber division can recover the files,” she finished, closing her tablet and glancing at you. “My understanding is that CKR have their best agents on the job as we speak.”

You nodded, “I’m familiar with them,” you told your boss, having come across the agents from CKR on several occasions, especially Juyeon. “They won’t be a problem.”

Your boss gave you a curt nod in agreement, handing her tablet off to her assistant. “You must know how important this is, Y/n. I cannot stress it enough. I chose you for this mission because you have proven yourself to be loyal and competent after the three years you’ve been here. I trust you to complete your mission well; this cannot fall into the wrong hands.”

“I understand,” you assured your boss. “I won’t give anybody the chance.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Mrs Kwon nodded. “Now, the gala is starting in six hours. I suggest you stop by costume and weaponry before you go. We wouldn’t you to stand out or be unprepared.”

You paused for a moment, thinking it over. “Maybe that’s exactly what we want…” you trailed off as you exited your boss’s office and made your way to the costume department.

You had purposefully made contact with the head of governmental cyber security multiple weeks prior to the gala. Knowing that he had the key to hacking into governmental firewalls and protections meant that you couldn’t let it slip through your fingers that night.

Mr Kim had recognised you immediately, since your stunning red outfit couldn’t be missed. You had clearly made the right decision to wear it, because Mr Kim couldn’t keep his eyes off of you the whole evening.  

“Do you have eyes on the target?” Sangyeon’s voice rang through Juyeon’s earpiece. Juyeon had been undercover for the duration of the gala that evening, staying low-key in a formal but simple suit in order to blend in with the crowd. Sangyeon was surveilling from a getaway car parked nearby for a quick exit. Not only was Sangyeon the team leader, he was also their best and most efficient driver.

As subtly as possible, Juyeon placed a hand on his earpiece to reply to his team leader. “Affirmative. Exiting main ballroom through the North door,” Juyeon informed as he followed the short man who was speedily walking through the crowd; the man looked flustered and slightly tipsy, despite being the head of cyber security for the South Korean government.

“I trust you’ll secure the package and not let it slip like last time,” Juyeon could hear Kevin tease through his earpiece. He spotted Kevin sipping on champagne in the corner of the ballroom, raising his glass to him to further poke fun at Juyeon’s previous failures.

Juyeon rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he retorted, placing his glass down on the nearest table and following the target out of the ballroom.

Before he could exit the room, somebody stood before him – dressed in a stunning red outfit that could capture attention from ten miles away – and blocked the doorway. You stood in before Juyeon, an eyebrow raised as ran your eyes down his body. Most of the time when you met him, you were both dressed in your all-black protective gear; it was a nice change to see your handsome rival in a black suit, hair styled to perfection.

“You clean up pretty good for someone who works for the second best agency in the world,” you taunted as you dragged your eyes up to meet Juyeon’s eyes.

Juyeon gulped.

He had always been attracted to you, and this had been his downfall.

The two of you worked for competing agencies and were always put on the same missions, being the best and most experienced agents at your agencies. However, nearly every time Juyeon came close to completing his mission, you already had it in the bag. You were clever, stunning, and always a step ahead of him. You also knew that Juyeon was fond of you, and you used it to your advantage whenever possible.

Juyeon couldn’t find it in him to hate you for it.

“I don’t have time for this,” Juyeon said, trying to sound as passive and bored as possible. By the smirk on your lips, he could tell you weren’t convinced, causing Juyeon to falter slightly. “I’m-“

You pulled a USB stick out of your pocket and dangled it in front of his face. Juyeon’s eyes narrowed, and he could hear Kevin and Sangyeon cursing in his earpiece. Dread filled him, overpowered only by the adrenaline he felt whenever he was in your presence.

You had beat him to it, again.

“-looking for this?” you finished his sentence, titling your head to the side to feign innocence. Then, you grinned, tucking it back into one of your pockets safely. “You should get to know your targets better,” you criticised with a smirk. “Maybe it’ll get you somewhere instead of trying to sneak up on them for the first time the night of a celebration.”

Juyeon narrowed his eyes at you, unsure of what to say. “That outfit draws too much attention, how did you manage to get it before I did?” he wondered instead.

You shrugged. “Sometimes you need the target’s attention,” you reminded him, leisurely stepping closer to Juyeon and leaning in so you lips were next to his ear. “Poor Mister Kim kept his eyes on me and made it easy to snatch this,” you patted your pocket. “Right from under his nose.”

“Abort,” Sangyeon told Juyeon through his earpiece. “Get out of there. We need to regroup for Plan B before we’re out of time.”

Seeing how worked up Juyeon was at your victory only made it more enjoyable for you. Before Juyeon could exit through the door, you bushed your lips against his cheek in an almost-kiss. “See you for round 2,” you told him with a wink, leaving Juyeon behind with his heart pounding erratically as you disappeared through the door.

“What the hell happened?” Sangyeon asked once Juyeon and Kevin were back in the car. “You told me you had eyes on him.”

“I did,” Juyeon snapped, trying his best to calm his temper. Realising how rude he sounded, he softened. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “Y/n got to him before I even realised. She probably knew his routine by then, maybe even personally came into contact with-“

“I don’t want to hear about Y/n again,” Sangyeon interrupted, sighing. “What are you doing, Juyeon? You’re the best operative at the agency, yet the same person keeps intervening on all of your missions. It’s making you look incompetent, and our team look weak.”

“He’s doing his best,” Kevin piped up to defend Juyeon, who slumped in his seat. “I was in the room, and you had surveillance on Mr Kim the whole time. Y/n got past all of us, not just Juyeon. She’s just too good at her job.”

“You’re right,” Sangyeon allowed. “I’m sorry, Juyeon. I shouldn’t have blamed you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Juyeon mumbled. “I get it. You’re just looking out for the team.”

When they returned back to CKR headquarters, Sangyeon called for the whole team to gather so they could put Plan B into motion.

“We know where the USB is,” Sangyeon explained. “Y/n is too far from her headquarters to get there by tonight, she’ll have settled somewhere nearby and will be waiting to get transportation back tomorrow. We have to intercept them before that happens.” He decided.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Sunwoo, the intelligence analyst, wondered. He was one of the youngest members on the team, but was no less competent than the older members. “If Y/n has custody of the USB, we’re hardly going to be able to pry it out of her fingers.”

“No,” Sangyeon agrees. “She’s only going to hand it over to people that she trusts,” he added. “So, we need to become people that she trusts.”

“Pose as her team,” Jacob, one of the main intelligence operatives on the team, realised. “If she thinks that we are her transportation, she’ll have no problem handing over the USB.”

“Exactly,” Sangyeon agrees. “We need to have Chanhee run cryptography as soon possible. From what we understand, the information on the USB is timed. We only have 72 to decrypt and access it before it self-destructs and erases everything. And we need that information to be kept out of the wrong hands.”

“She’s not just going to get into any car and hand over the USB to somebody she doesn’t know,” Hyunjae pointed out from where he sat, spinning himself in circles on one of the wheeled office chairs. “I’m sure they have a system where she gets the licence plates so she knows she’s in the right car.”

“It’s a small window, but we can make it,” Sangyeon was sure. “After we know the message has been transmitted, we take down the driver and send in Juyeon to pose as her driver. She’ll recognise him as soon as she gets into the car, so we have to act fast.”

Juyeon was unsure. “I don’t know…” he trailed off, thinking. “It seems too simple,” he admitted. Juyeon had dealt with you enough to know that nothing got by you so easily.

“Simple is best sometimes,” Sangyeon retorted, crossing his arms. “If we think about this too much, or create an extravagant plan, I think Y/n’ll see it coming from a mile away.”

Juyeon nodded. “Alright, leader. I’ll trust you on this,” he decided, knowing that Sangyeon had been operating for far longer than Juyeon had.

The next night, after the sky had darkened, you packed up in your lavish suite at the hotel a few blocks down from where the event was held last night. You were staying down low so that you could get to headquarters as soon as possible. You knew that Mrs Kwon was right when she said that the information on that USB stick was incredibly important; it also had a timer on it and wouldn’t stay relevant for long. There were only around 48 hours left on the information.

After receiving a text from your usual driver saying he was a block away, you secured all of your belongings and tucked the USB into a hidden compartment of your black cargo pants. Tying your hair back, you made your way out of the room and left your key at the reception. They already knew who you were and took it wordlessly, allowing you to slip out the revolving door to wait for your car in the back alleyway.

As the familiar black SUV came rolling around the corner, you smiled and headed over to sit down in the back. “Good evening Phil,” you greeted, getting in and moving to buckle your seatbelt.

The familiar click of a gun made you freeze in place, hands on your seatbelt as you glanced up to see Juyeon sitting in the driver’s seat. “Oh, hi,” you greeted casually, as if your biggest competitor wasn’t just sitting in a car he had abducted. “Nice to see you in more casual clothes. Do you think you could step on it? I’m kind of on a time crunch, here,” you said.

Juyeon narrowed his eyes. “Stay right there,” he told you, trying not to fumble with his gun. He didn’t want to have to harm you in any way, so he hoped for his own sake that you’d be compliant.

You rolled your eyes. “How is it that I’m always one step ahead of you?” you wondered. Quick as a flash, you lifted your leg and kicked the gun out of Juyeon’s hand, taking his surprise as a chance to grab the gun for yourself and point it at him.

Juyeon cursed, freezing in place. He should have known that the threat of a gun wasn’t going to scare you; you were better trained in hand-to-hand combat anyway. “Get out of the car,” you told him in a slow voice, looking at him through narrowed eyes. Juyeon could see the hurt that lingered in them, and guilt filled his gut at the realisation that you somehow felt betrayed by him.

“Y/n,” Juyeon began, trying to convince you otherwise.

“Do as I say, Juyeon,” you replied, opening your car door and slowly following him out. You realised that the narrow alleyway behind the hotel you were staying in provided the perfect place for someone to hijack your car. “Now, what exactly do you think that you’re doing?” you wondered, motioning for Juyeon to step away from the car.

“Y/n, just listen,” Juyeon pleaded. “I know this looks bad, but I just-”

Before he could finish, a giant force threw the two of you into the air. The force of an explosive going off in your car.

Juyeon hit the ground hard, winded from the explosion and coughing as smoke and fire enveloped the black SUV. You had also been thrown to the ground, but your closer proximity to the car meant that you had suffered worse injuries than Juyeon. Both your side and wrist had hit the ground at bad angles during your fall, your head spinning as a result from the impact.

“What the hell?” you exclaimed, coughing on the ground. You had a ringing in your right ear, which had been facing the car when the blast went off, and were struggling to properly get up due to the injury your ribs had apprehended during the explosion.

Civilians had started running away from the surrounding area, terrified. “You just tried to kill me, you asshole!” you exclaimed, horrified at Juyeon’s approach of getting the USB stick from you. Explosives? Really? “What did I do ever do to you?”

“That wasn’t my explosive,” Juyeon snapped in response.

“You pointed a gun at me,” you retorted, coughing. “Why should I believe that you didn’t try to kill me?”

“We need you alive and you know it. Besides, why would I blow up a car that I was planning on driving?” he added, slowly getting to his knees and attempting to stand up.

You let out a shallow breath, realising what this meant for you.

Your boss, Mrs Kwon, had sent a car with a timed explosive in it.

To kill you.

Had Juyeon not hijacked the car, you and your usual driver Phil would have been dead on the way back to headquarters. Police sirens neared you, and you did your best to drag your feet up.

“We need to go,” you murmured, Juyeon trying to help you up as best as he could. “Now,” you added firmly, wincing as you used your non-injured hand to take Juyeon’s arm. Head spinning, you did your best to adjust to your surroundings.

“I know a place,” Juyeon suggested.

Unsure, you glanced up at him. “And why should I trust you?” you asked.

Juyeon paused, eyes softening at the sight of your injured and scratched body. He sighed, “You know why,” his eyes implying even more than his words did.

And you did know.

Ever since you and Juyeon started meeting during your assignments and missions, the attraction between the two of you was clear. Competing against one another had only added to the heightened emotions and energy between the two of you, and when Juyeon realised he had fallen for you, you were once again ahead of him.

You knew the second he was emotionally invested in his relationship with you. But someone as honest and expressive as Juyeon, almost to the point where he seemed innocent, couldn’t hide how he felt.You had never used his feelings for you against him, and you had never indicated that you felt the same either.

“Besides, what other choice do you have?” Juyeon added. “Mrs Kwon just tried to kill you,” he had also caught on. “I’m the best shot you’ve got at hiding out until it’s safe for you again.”

You weighed out your options. “Okay,” you gave in, mostly because you could barely walk on your own. And partially because your gut was telling you to trust Juyeon. “Where are we going?”

After a short argument about whether or not you would let Juyeon fireman carry you, you had won the fight and did your best to hide how badly your ribs were really injured, holding your tongue and diligently following Juyeon. You had sustained many injuries from missions in the past, and you were quite sure that your ribs were just badly bruised and not fractured.

Juyeon turned on the lights to his apartment, helping you over to his sofa. “This is my place,” he explained. It wasn’t too far from where the blast went off, and it was the only safe place Juyeon could think of letting the two of you hide out. He went into the kitchen and rifled through his drawers for his first-aid kit.

“I thought you were just going to take me to your headquarters,” you admitted. “Why didn’t you?”

Juyeon paused his search, spotting the first aid kit and pulling it out quietly. “I don’t know,” he replied, sighing. “You’re hurt and I can’t take you to the hospital because we’re spies and I’m not trying to let you bleed out or anything,” he added, kneeling in front of you and tending to your wounds. He had clearly looked after his own injuries before in the past, as you often had to do after missions, so you let him help you as the two of you sat in silence.

You had always known that Juyeon was handsome. The first time you met him, it was the first thing you noticed about him; his sharp features, small eyes and narrow nose. Something about the combination of his characteristics made him more stunning than you could comprehend.

“Stop staring at me,” Juyeon mumbled, sounding more shy than teasing under your stare. “It’s making me nervous.”

You rose an eyebrow. “I didn’t think spies got nervous,” you replied.

Juyeon paused his handiwork to meet your eyes, an eyebrow raised. “We don’t. I can disarm a bomb anytime. Get information out of the least willing witnesses. But you. You make me nervous,” he retorted. His words caused your breath to catch in your chest, eyes widening slightly at his candour.

You allowed Juyeon to finish tending to your wounds in silence, thinking better than to provoke him again. You weren’t sure what you would say if he responded to your questions like that again, so you decided to not say anything at all. When he finished, you thanked him quietly and let him wrap your torso to support the injury on your ribs. Silently, you watched him tend to his own, much milder, wounds.

“You’re very soft,” you observed as Juyeon quietly put his first-aid kit away and brought you some water. He was far more graceful than you had expected him to be. “The way you move and handle yourself. I know you’re stealthy because of your job, but your movements are very controlled and elegant.”

Juyeon took a seat next to you, handing you a glass of water. Despite everything the two of you had gone through, it felt very comfortable and natural to sit with him like that. “I used to be a dancer,” Juyeon said. You perked up at his confession. “When I was younger. It was all I wanted to do.”

“I can see you as a dancer,” you said, tilting your head slightly, as if imagining Juyeon standing on a large stage and performing. “You have that air of control about you; like you do a lot with your body,” Juyeon hummed. Feeling the need to level with him, you opened up more. “I used to want to be a magician.”

Juyeon burst out in laughter. “You’re kidding,” he accused in disbelief.

“I’m dead serious,” you swore. “I wanted to be a magician. Not a real wizard or someone with real powers, I just wanted to convince people that I could do magic,” you explained.

Juyeon perked up at your words. “A magician,” he murmured, as if trying to picture you with a top hat and a fake wand as a child. “I see that. You always have something up your sleeve whenever we’re on the same mission.” Juyeon recalled.

You smiled. “Sorry about that.”

Juyeon’s eyes shimmered with amusement. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” you agreed reluctantly. “It’s one of the few talents I have. Other than elite espionage.”

Juyeon laughed. “God, you’re good at your job,” he sighed. “How is it that you beat me every single time we have the same mission?” he wondered, giving up on trying to pretend like he didn’t know you were the better spy. “Level with me on this. Every single time.”

“I’m good at reading people,” you shrug. “After a while, I got to know how you thought and how you problem solved. Then, it just became a matter of being a step ahead of you.”

“Which you always are,” Juyeon shook his head in disbelief. “Right when I’m about to act, you’ve already finished the job.”

“Like I said, magic tricks and espionage are my only talents,” you reminded him. “It just comes easily to me. Some people are great painters. I’m great at… physical combat? Logistics? Fooling people?”

“I think you’re an overachiever,” Juyeon mentioned it so casually that you actually laughed.

“Maybe so,” you mused, a grin playing on your lips. “Or I just really like winning.”

“Now that I can agree with,” Juyeon said, nodding to himself. “Everything between you and I is a competition, and you always win.”

“Not everything between us is a competition,” you whispered.

Juyeon smiled slightly, closed-lipped and slightly forced. “I wish that were true,” he replied.

You supposed he was right. In terms of your careers as spies, most of the times you met it was due to having the same mission. This meant that a large part of what made up your relationship was the competitive drive you felt whenever the two of you were together.

Perhaps that was why you tried so hard to deny the fact that you returned his feelings for you.

You sighed. “I wish that I never knew you were a spy,” you mumbled, hugging your legs and resting your head atop of your knees, your glass of water set on the coffee table. “I wish that you and I met at,” you thought about it. “A coffee shop. Or university. Or somewhere else, I don’t know.”

Juyeon nodded in agreement, following suit and mirroring the position you were in, resting his chin on his knees. “Me too,” he agreed. “I wish that I didn’t have to hide you here. Hide you from your horrible boss Mrs Kwon, and my team…” Juyeon groaned. “My team. Oh god, I have no idea what I’m going to tell them.”

“Right,” you recalled. “This was your mission. To get information from me,” you said, the thought making you pout subconsciously. “I’m a mission.”

“You’re not a mission,” Juyeon denied. “You were a part of my mission.”

“Two hours ago, you were pointing a gun at my head,” you reminded Juyeon, raising an eyebrow. “I’m a mission, Juyeon.”

“You’re not,” Juyeon insisted. “You’re… special to me. You’re not an object or an assignment. You’re a person.”

“This is so messed up,” you buried your face in your knees, willing everything to disappear around you. “Up until this morning, you were just the guy that I flirted with during missions.”

“That’s all I was to you?”

“No,” you admitted. “But that’s all our relationship was. Now, I’m on the run from my boss, who’s trying to kill me, and you’re hiding from your team, who assigned you to basically kidnap me for intel.”

“Why do you work for her?” Juyeon wondered. “She’s dangerous, and you’re doing missions for her.”

You shook your head. “You don’t get it,” you told him. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then simplify it.”

“Drop it, Juyeon.”

“Why?” he exclaimed. “You’re putting yourself in danger for somebody who wants you dead, and you don’t want to tell me why?”

“You’re right, I don’t want to tell you why.”

“Fine,” Juyeon huffed, purposely moving his body so he wasn’t facing you head on anymore. “I just saved your life and you still don’t trust me.”

“Do you trust me?” you retaliated.

Juyeon’s silence was enough to answer that one.

“Then we’re back to square one,” you rolled your eyes, moving your legs to stand up. “How-“ you cut yourself off with a cry of pain, having forgotten how badly you injured your ribs in the car blast.

You fell back against the sofa, Juyeon leaping to his feet to help you sit back down. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice rushed as his eyes flitted across your body, searching for any visible sign of pain.

Your eyes clenched closed as your severely bruised ribs throbbed, the sharp pain slowly fading now that you weren’t moving your upper body. When you opened your eyes again, you met Juyeon’s deep brown gaze. His expression had softened when he realised you were no longer in immense pain, and his close proximity made you glance down to his thin, pink lips.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” Juyeon whispered, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he spoke. “Is that okay?” you nodded, not finding the words to reply to him; drawing him in with your eyes.

He leant forward, bracing his hands on the sofa on either side of your body, lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. His lips were warm and soft, and his touch felt familiar despite it being your first kiss with him. You exhaled a sigh through your nose, relishing in how close Juyeon was when he normally felt so out of reach from you. Pulling him closer, you threaded your fingers gently through his hair, parting your lips to deepen the kiss.

This closeness, the fact that Juyeon was within your grasp, caused warmth to blossom in your chest and stomach. For as long as you could remember, your attraction to and feelings for Juyeon had always been pushed to the back of your mind; a fantasy you would never reach. And here you were, wrapped in his embrace.

Waking up in Juyeon’s bed was heaven.

Of course, your whole body felt sore from the impact of hitting the ground after the explosion, and you still couldn’t stand up properly without it hurting due to your ribs. But still, you felt satisfied.

“Hey,” Juyeon greeted, running his fingers through your hair, eyes bleary from sleep. “You okay?” You nodded, wordlessly tracing shapes onto his t-shirt covered chest, not wanting the moment to end. “Your wounds look like they’re closing,” he mused, searching your body. “I think a shower might be due.”

After setting you up with a towel and clothes to change into, you stripped your t-shirt off – having gotten rid of your cargo pants for comfort the night before – and made your way into the bathroom to shower.

Your reflection looked awful.

You had several cuts, bruises, and lacerations on your body from the impact, and you ribs were terribly swollen after you unwrapped it, blue bruises forming across it. Wincing, you hopped into the shower and scrubbed all of the dirt and dried blood from your skin. After using Juyeon’s shampoo and body wash, your chest felt warm and cozy as his scent filled your nose.

After lying in bed for a few extra minutes, Juyeon decided to clean up a little. He made his bed and picked up your clothes from where you had carelessly dropped them in his living room the night before. He paused, feeling the cold touch of a small metallic object in one of the inner pockets.

The USB.

Juyeon hesitated, not sure what to do with it.

A part of him wanted desperately to pocket the small device, a deep desire within him begging him to finish his mission and do the right thing. He knew that the USB falling into the wrong hands would be detrimental to the safety and wellbeing of many government officials and innocent citizens.

Another part of him wanted to tuck it back into the pocket he found it in. The information on the USB could only be encrypted for a short period of time. If Juyeon did nothing, then the information would disappear in 30 hours. He would preserve the progress he made with you the night before and  could make other plans to protect you from Mrs Kwon.

Juyeon didn’t realise how long he held the USB in his palm. Your footsteps snapped him out of his daydream.

“You found it,” you said, too shocked to continue towel-drying your hair. You had gotten changed into one of Juyeon’s long sleeved t-shirts, sweatpants, and socks after your shower. Had it not been for the situation at hand, Juyeon might have told you how stunning you looked in his clothes. “What are you gonna do with it?” you asked him, biting your bottom lip.

Juyeon glanced up, stepping towards you. “Nothing,” he replied, pressing the USB into your hands. He closed your fingers over it, covering your closed fist with his own hand. “I don’t need to do anything about it.”

The moment was ruined as the front door to Juyeon’s apartment was kicked down, several agents and elite spies from Mrs Kwon’s organisation making their way into the living room, guns pointed at the two of you. “Minho,” you said calmly, recognising your team leader.

Minho’s eyes had hardened as he observed the position you and Juyeon were in. “What were you thinking?” Minho asked, his voice unnervingly calm. “Why would you come here with him instead of going back to headquarters? You had a mission, Y/n.”

“She was hurt,” Juyeon defended your actions. “Her car exploded just metres away from her. I wasn’t just going to bring her back to your headquarters after your boss tried to blow her up.”

Minho watched the way you quickly pulled your hand out from under Juyeon’s, raising both of your hands in the air. Juyeon followed your actions, curious about why you were surrendering so easily.

“This is interesting,” Minho mused. “Is this why you keep failing your missions?” he asked Juyeon, tilting his head and mocking him with his words.

“What are you talking about?” Juyeon asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re purposefully failing so that Y/n can succeed?” Minho said it in a teasing tone, as if he was revealing Juyeon’s crush during recess in the playground.

“No,” Juyeon denied. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“She can’t be that good of a spy,” Minho retorted. “She’s beat you out on seventy eight missions over four years.” You remained silent, unsure of what to say with so many guns pointed in your direction. “How long have you been together for?”

“Stop it,” you interrupted. “Are you going to fight me, Minho?” you asked.

Minho had been your team leader for almost three years. You had each other’s backs, and the fact that he and the rest of the spies from your organisation were pointing guns at you didn’t sit so well with you.

“I might,” Minho admitted. “If you don’t hand over the USB.”

“I can’t do that,” you said. “Mrs Kwon tried to kill me for this, I’m afraid I won’t just let go of it so easily,” you admitted.

“Please,” Minho rolled his eyes. “That car blew up after your little boyfriend stole it from Phil. He clearly planted it. Why would Mrs Kwon put an explosive in your car? You’re her best agent, and she wants those files,” he recalled. “Forgive me if I just don’t buy it, Y/n.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “I forgive you.”

You turned, nodding at Juyeon and balanced your weight across your feet before you leapt at Minho, swinging your arm in a punch. Juyeon followed suit, turning to kick the guns out of your colleague’s hands and ducking under their jabs. You took on Minho alone, since he was the team leader and the most experienced spy on the team other than yourself.

Usually when you fought with Minho, it was sparring during training; honing in your skills and building each other up. Now, you were fighting to get away from somebody you used to consider close to a friend. “You sold out,” you accused Minho, kicking his gun away from where he had dropped it during your fight.

“So what if I did?” Minho replied, raising an eyebrow. “You think you’re always a step ahead of everyone, but this time, I was,” he added, striking you in your torso. You yelped, falling to the ground as the pain in your already injured ribs intensified. “Any more tricks up your sleeve? Or just a fractured rib?”

“Asshole,” you exclaimed, biting your tongue to suppress more shouts of pain. You struggled to fend off Minho’s advances. He was larger, stronger, and in better condition than you were. Even when the two of you sparred during training, you could only ever win against Minho if you outsmarted him somehow.

Getting to your feet, you tucked your hair behind your ears and squared your shoulders. Minho approached you, diving with his hands stretched towards your torso; by that point, he had realised that you were injured and had a weak spot. You blocked it easily, using the momentum of Minho’s slight stumble to aim your fist at his jaw. Minho exclaimed in pain, falling to the ground and holding his jaw.

You risked a moment to look at Juyeon, who was easily taking on two men at once. The swift and calculated manner Juyeon moved in reminded you of how he said he wanted to be a dancer when he was younger. This, you could easily believe after seeing him in action.

You struck Minho further while he was disoriented from your hit to his jaw, not letting the gruelling pain in your ribs stop you from doing your best to defend yourself. Minho pushed you against the wall, both of your actions getting sloppier from the injuries you were both sustaining.

“Enough,” you exclaimed, taking the USB from where you stashed it in your pocket and holding it out of the open window. Juyeon and Minho audibly cursed, everyone stilling at your bold choice. “One more step, and I drop it,” you warned, the sound of the traffic outside reminding everyone that a car would immediately drive over the USB if you dropped it.

“Y/n,” Juyeon said slowly. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Listen to your boyfriend,” Minho agreed. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Regret?” you echoed. “I almost got blown up because I had this. You think I’ll miss this thing when it’s gone? The only person who loses out would be you,” you told Minho. “This is your recovery mission.”

“Juyeon!” a shout came from the hallway leading up to his apartment. You turned, seeing Sangyeon, Kevin, Jacob, and Haknyeon rush into Juyeon’s apartment. They seemed to have realised where Juyeon was soon after Mrs Kwon’s team had, and were shocked at the scene in front of them. “Are you hurt?” Sangyeon asked, causing Juyeon to shake his head.

“The rest of your boyfriend’s team is here,” Minho drawled. “So, what’s it going to be, Y/n? Are you going to hand it over to me, or him?”

“Why do I need to hand it over to anyone?” you retorted. You had kicked Minho’s weapons out of his reach, and now that Sangyeon and his team were there, Minho was outnumbered. He wasn’t likely to try anything stupid. “What are you going to do? You can’t win this one, Minho.”

Juyeon watched with bated breath as you opened your palm, dropping the USB from the twenty-fourth floor of his apartment building. Sangyeon and Minho gave angry shouts at your action and you stepped away from the window, opening both of your hands to show your empty palms.

Minho moved forward, his fist colliding with the side of your face. You fell to the floor, Juyeon yelling as he ran towards Minho. Sangyeon held him back, stopping him from doing anything he might regret. “I’ll deal with you later,” Sangyeon told him. Juyeon startled; Sangyeon had never looked at Juyeon with so much disappointment before.

Your chest heaved with deep inhales as you tried to catch your breath, propping yourself up using the wall behind you. “And what about you?” you asked Minho, raising an eyebrow; challenging him. “Are you really going to go to Mrs Kwon empty-handed? The USB is gone. About ten cars have crushed it into the road by now. She’s not going to want me, dead or alive. She’s going to want the team leader that let her precious files slip through his fingers.”

Knowing you were right, and seeing how Sangyeon and his team had outnumbered him, Minho glared at you before fleeing from the scene, most likely going to hide from Mrs Kwon and her resources. Sangyeon didn’t stop him; Minho was of no interest to him now that he didn’t have the USB, and he was from a different organisation. Elite spies aren’t a part of law enforcement; he wasn’t going to chase after Minho like a police officer would.

“You don’t know what you’ve just done,” Sangyeon accused you, seething with anger. “You’re protecting Mrs Kwon under the facade that you don’t care what happens to the information on that USB.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Juyeon added quietly. “You were almost killed for that, twice. Don’t you think we could have used what’s on there?”

You nodded. “I suppose you’re right. It’s a good thing I always have,” you pulled the USB out from under the sleeve of Juyeon’s long-sleeved t-shirt that you were wearing, an ode to the many magic tricks you learned as a kid when you dreamed of being a magician. “A trick up my sleeve.”

“We can trust Y/n,” Juyeon insisted, rushing after Sangyeon and Kevin as they led you out of his apartment complex to their SUV. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. Mrs Kwon tried to kill her!”

“Except she has done things wrong,” Sangyeon retorted. “Y/n’s boss is corrupt, Juyeon,” he informed. “Mrs Kwon has been giving government and civilian security details to the highest bidder. That’s the reason her company is the best in the world. They sell private information for profit, and hundreds of people have died for it.”

Juyeon felt his heart drop to his stomach at Sangyeon’s confession. “That’s her boss, not her,” he tried to defend you as best as he could. “It’s a job, Sangyeon.”

“Elite espionage doesn’t exist for the rich to play games with innocent people for money,” Sangyeon snapped. “Our organisations exist so that we can protect people and put away bad guys.”

“I agree,” you voiced, causing Sangyeon’s eyes to meet yours as you neared the car. Despite his harsh gaze, you weren’t intimidated by him. You had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. “Believe me, that’s why I took this job.”

Sangyeon studied your expression, trying to find a hint that you were lying or deceiving him. Then, he held his hand out to you. “I’ll take that USB,” he said. You gave it to him, seeing no point in trying to keep it from him at that point. Minho and the other spies from Mrs Kwon’s agency were long gone, and Sangyeon and his team wouldn’t be able to crack the code without you anyway. “Get in,” Sangyeon told Juyeon. “We’re going to headquarters.”

If Sangyeon wanted to take you to CKR, you had no reason to fight him.

“What’s the status?” Sangyeon asked Chanhee, who had been working on decrypting the files on the USB for over an hour.

You and Juyeon had been driven to CKR headquarters in seperate cars. Kevin did his best to be kind to you, but you remained silent and allowed him to lead you to a simple room with a one-way mirror in it.

Juyeon had debriefed the team on exactly what had happened when he tried to bring you to headquarters the night before. Sangyeon remained unimpressed that Juyeon hadn’t immediately brought you to them, and scolded him for taking away an extra 15 hours of time they could have used to decrypt the files and question your organisation’s best spy.

“There’s over 200 digits in the password,” Chanhee explained, still typing out potential passwords onto the laptop in a blank document. “There’s only three chances before the files self-destruct. I already used one of our chances, and I don’t want to try again until I get a better idea of what it could be,” he said, lush lips stuck in a concentrated pout. “It would help if I knew anything about Mr Kim, but he seems to be a pretty elusive man. Does’t have much of an online presence, which makes sense since he’s in charge of cybersecurity.”

Sangyeon sighed, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache was coming on. “If Mrs Kwon was willing to kill Y/n to keep this information out of her hands, we need to get to it,” he said.

“What’s on it?” Eric wondered from his place on the sofa, playing a game on his phone.

“I don’t know,” Sangyeon shook his head at the youngest. “Boss won’t say.”

“Maybe we should ask Y/n,” Kevin suggested. “If Mrs Kwon wanted to keep it out of her hands specifically, maybe she thought that Y/n could crack the code?”

Sangyeon had already thought of this option, but he didn’t want to have to bring you in. “She works for that awful lady,” he reminded his team. “I don’t trust her.”

Juyeon frowned. “What’s she ever done to make you distrust her?” he wondered. “Other than the fact that she works for an organisation that we think is corrupt? Most of the missions she was on were ones that you sent me on, too. That means that she’s been doing a lot of good during her career in espionage,” he pointed out.

“Bring her in,” Sangyeon decided, sending both Jacob and Kevin in to collect you. You soon appeared, wincing as you limped your way over to the team leader. Your bruised ribs had probably become fractured from your fight with Minho, and any other contusions you had sustained from the fight were starting to bruise a deep purple. Juyeon wanted nothing more than to rush over to you, but he figured this would be the wrong move.

“Can you solve this?” Sangyeon asked you, pointing at the screen.

You shrugged. “I can’t be sure,” you admitted. “But I have a pretty good hunch.”

“Which is?”

“I got to know Mr Kim personally before the event two nights ago,” you explained. “Before he started his career in cybersecurity, he was a chemistry major at Yonsei University for his undergraduate degree. He used to go on and on about how he had to memorise all these different formulas and numbers to pass his exams,” you recalled. “But there was one thing he was particularly proud of, something that none of his classmates could do.”

“Don’t tell me it’s the first 300 digits of Pi,” Chanhee said, frowning. “Because that would be so boring. I could do that when I was eleven.”

You shook your head. “He can recite the atomic numbers of every element on the periodic table,” you told the cryptologist. “In order.”

“Pull up a picture of the periodic table,” Sangyeon ordered to Sunwoo, who quickly complied and pulled it up to the large screen in the centre of the room. “Chanhee?”

“On it,” he mumbled, already typing in the numbers in order. When he was done, he stared at the screen in surprise. “The number of digits perfectly fits,” Chanhee told his team leader. “Do you want me to enter it?”

Sangyeon glanced over at you. “I don’t suppose you made up an elaborate lie that just so happened to work in your favour?”

You shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had that kind of a trick up my sleeve,” you admitted. “But no. I’m not lying.”

Sangyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Alright,” he agreed. “If Juyeon trusts you, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this once. And we always have one more try, then I’ll know for sure if you were lying.”

Sangyeon gave Chanhee the okay to give in the password. Chanhee tapped on the enter key, a grin forming on his lips as he started typing frantically. “I’m in,” he said, causing cheers to burst out around the room.

The boss of the CKR spy agency entered the room, pleased to see the success that Sangyeon’s team had during their mission. “That sounds like good news,” he said, causing all the members of the team to bow in greeting of their boss.

“Yes, sir,” Sangyeon confirmed. “We just got into through the encryption with 28 hours to spare.”

“That’s wonderful work,” their boss complimented, smiling at them all.

“Y/n provided important details about Mr Kim’s life that helped us,” Sangyeon added, surprising you. “Without her help, we wouldn’t have been able to figure it out.”

“Excellent work, Y/n,” the CKR boss complimented, reaching over to shake your hand.

You beamed. “Happy to help, sir,” you told him cheerily. “After all, it is my job,” you reminded him with a wink.

The room went silent as Sangyeon’s team stared at you in shock. “I knew I made the right choice trusting you,” the CKR boss told you, looking proud. “There aren’t many people that can outsmart Juyeon on his missions, as well as work undercover long enough to deeply infiltrate Mrs Kwon’s organisation.”

“Did you just say work undercover?” Juyeon wondered, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Yes,” his boss admitted. “I hired Y/n five years ago to infiltrate Mrs Kwon’s organisation and expose her corruption. That’s why these files are so important,” he explained.

“Oh my god,” Chanhee muttered, flicking through the files on the USB. “This traces Mrs Kwon’s online presence, dating back over three years. It’s incriminating information against Mrs Kwon’s organisation; she can be sent to jail for the evidence on here.”

“That’s why she tried to kill you,” Juyeon realised, addressing his words to you. “Because Mr Kim uncovered her online footprints.”

“I told you it wasn’t so simple,” you reminded him, giving him your best smile. Juyeon beamed. He often wondered if he was naïve for trusting you, but you had proved to him that you were worth the risk. A double agent. Somehow, Juyeon felt incredibly proud of you.

“Thank you for your hard work, Y/n,” CKR’s boss thanked you. “And now that we have what we need on Mrs Kwon, I’d love for you to continue working here for my most elite team,” he invited you.

“That’s us!” Eric exclaimed happily, now solving a Rubik’s cube upside down.

“As long as they’ll have me, I’d love to,” you told your boss.

Everyone glanced over at Sangyeon, who had the final say on any new members as the team leader. After seeing your skillset that day, everyone on the team was excited to work with you. You had something to offer in almost any area they specialised in. Plus, you were a fairly famous spy amongst the different agency; known as the best of the best. Sangyeon seemed to be struggling to comprehend the situation, having gone through a pretty confusing day.

“So you’re been working for CKR all this time?” he asked. You nodded. “And you’ve been gathering information on Mrs Kwon to use against her with Mr Kim from cybersecurity?” Another nod. “And you really did outsmart Juyeon on all of his missions?”

“I’m afraid so,” you confirmed.

Sangyeon seemed stunned. “Then I think you’d make a good addition to the team,” he agreed. Kevin and Eric cheered, excited that someone as well-known in the spy community as you would be a part of their team. You were infamous around CKR for always outsmarting their best team, and it turns out that you were CKR’s best asset all along. Your boss said his farewells, allowing you to get to know your new team better.

“I can’t believe all of this,” Juyeon breathed out in surprise, helping you onto one of the sofas in the back of the room, careful of your injured ribs. “You’re…”

“A double agent?” you filled in for him.

“…Even more amazing than I thought,” Juyeon finished his train of thought. You grinned, letting Juyeon press a kiss to your cheek and hug you. “And always a step ahead of me, it seems,” he kissed you gently.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Younghoon mumbled, wincing at the sight of you and Juyeon kissing.

“My little magician,” Juyeon sighed happily against your lips, pulling away to beam at you. His eyes, tired and worn out from the last two days, glimmered with excitement. “This is so much better than competing against you.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and hugging him tightly, wincing slightly at the impact on your ribs. “Who says we’re going to stop competing?”

note: here is the long anticipated full version of my spy!juyeon timestamp!! i hope you guys enjoyed it! it wasn’t super romantic like the other ones but i hope i capture the spy juyeon concept i was going for well :)

[theworldofotps]

Haunted Road

13 Nights To Halloween (Night Eleven)

Pairing: Malakai Black x Reader Word Count: 1,185 Request: Malakai and Y/N are driving at night, it's a rainy thunderstorm and Malakai decides to scare Y/N by pretending their car breaks down in front of a graveyard. He chuckles darkly as he tells her a story about the road they are "broken down" on being haunted. He completely scares her before hugging kissing her and starting the car back up so they can finish the drive home

I really like this fic, thank you so much @xladyxfatex for participating in this series. I really hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing it.

Thanks so much to my editor @goosecos​ _______ Tag list:

@hungmanhorsecarriage @writtingrose @omg-im-such-a-masochist @sjwrites22 @sassymox @new-zealand-chic @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @xbreezymeadowsx @rebellious-desires  @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @melblacc @letsgivethisonemoreshot @alination @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _______

“Babe are you sure we’re going to make it safely? This thunderstorm is getting pretty bad and I’m worried you won’t be able to see anything with how hard it’s coming down.”

Y/n says, looking out the windshield, not only was the rain coming down in sheets but it was nighttime. So the only light that was cutting through the darkness was his headlights.

“Yes, mijn liefje. I know what I’m talking about and I told you when you asked me ten minutes ago if we’d be okay. I wouldn’t risk your life so trust me.” (my love)

Malakai replies, glancing over at his girlfriend then back at the road once more he needed to keep his focus on the road so he wouldn’t get in an accident. He knew she was just worried about making it back safe. Turning the radio on, Malakai turns it to her favorite station. He wasn’t the biggest fan of some of the music she liked. But if this helped to calm her down, he was more than willing to listen to it.

Y/n leans back in her seat and watches out the window, resting her hand on his leg for comfort. Malakai glances at her then looks at the gps. There was a cemetery coming up within a half mile, which meant a town nearby. Continuing to drive, he searched for signs to show how far they were from a rest stop. The rain was still coming down but he was starting to see a little moonlight shining through the clouds.

When the car suddenly stops in front of the cemetery, Y/n looks over at Malakai .

“Babe? Why’d you stop?”

“The car stopped working for some reason, I don’t know why.”

He says, frowning as he turns the key and huffs.

“What the fuck?”

Smacking the steering wheel he looked around, the rain was letting up a bit and they could see the cemetery out the window. A fog was rolling through adding an even creepier vibe to it. Y/n sits up watching him and frowns.

“Why would it just stop when it’s been working fine?”

“I’m not sure it doesn’t make any sense.”

Rubbing his face they sit in silence while he continues trying to start the car.

“Fuckin hell stupid piece of shit.”

“Easy baby, we’ll figure it out. There has to be some good reason on why it suddenly stopped.” “I mean I have an idea but it’s silly and kinda dumb.”

“Can you tell me please? Maybe we can figure out if it’s the correct reason.”

“Okay so this deadeye road, not sure if you’ve heard of it before. But a lot of weird shit happens around here. Car trouble, phones not working, things like that.”

“Do they know why?”

“Well many people have died on or next to this road. And having the cemetery right along it makes everything even worse.”

“Really?”

Y/n asks, feeling her stomach drop listening to him. Malakai chuckles darkly nodding, normally she loves his laugh. This one however sent a chill down her spine.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t true liefje. People sometimes drive so fast on this road especially when it rains that they crash. Not to mention the cemetery is filled with a couple of criminals, like bad ones. Some people from the old asylum that’s like a half mile away from here.”

He says leaning back in his seat, Y/n swallows the sudden lump in her throat as she looks out the window towards the cemetery. It was still pretty dark out and the fog made it just that more creepier. She knew it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but she could have sworn she saw a faint red glow towards the back.

“Do you think that’s what happened to the car?”

“Possibly. I mean plenty of people have said it’s happened. Well the ones who’ve managed to leave this road in one piece that is. There’s an old story I heard. If you’re driving along this road close to midnight. That you could see a man in a black cloak walking along the side of the road. It kinda looks like he’s limping. When you pull up beside him to ask if he needs help he’s just silent for a moment.”

By now Malakai  had started to drop his voice to a low mumble so y/n had to lean close to hear him. The air around them was starting to chill a little bit as she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Why would they stop?”

“To be polite. Anyway the man will start mumbling quietly, and obviously people will lean closer asking him to repeat himself. He just nods and turns to the car walking right up to the lower passenger window. He’ll rest his hand on it, letting the person see the barb wire wrapped around his wrists.

He lifts his head causing his hood to fall down and the driver is staring into this pale face, with dry blood streaks under his eyes, and empty sockets. A half stitched mouth and a scar across most of his face..

He grabs the door handle, yanks it open if it’s not locked. Then drags the person from the car and into the cemetery. There he kills them and eats their souls, some of their organs and cuts their eyes out. Trying to find the perfect replacements for his own.

Those who manage to escape, which are very few. End up seeing him in their dreams for weeks and even months afterwards.”

Y/n scoots a little closer to Malakai and huddles in the hoodie of his she borrowed.

“Do you think we’ll see him?”

“I suppose it’s possible, if you believe in the stories. We’ll just have to be- OH MY GOD THERE HE IS!”

Y/n screams looking at the window and ducking down, as Malakai  pokes her sides laughing loudly.

“You, you should have seen your face.”

He laughs loudly as she holds a hand to her chest looking around and slaps his arm.

“You absolute dickhead, that wasn’t funny!”

“Are you kidding? It was perfect. I couldn’t help myself, you were just so into it. I love you baby.”

Reaching over, he pulls Y/n into his arms holding her close and kissing her temple.

“I can’t believe you did that, and that you made up such a story.”

“No I have heard that story but I don’t know if it’s true or if it’s just something passed around.”

He says wiping his eyes and sighs still occasionally chuckling.

“Okay beautiful, sit in your seat and buckle up, let's get home now that the rain has let up.”

Starting the car again Malakai winks as Y/n glares shoving his shoulder.

“You’re an ass.”

“I know but it was good so I’ll take that title for today.”

Pulling back onto the road he drives them home glancing over at his girlfriend. He knew that she’d be getting him back. It was just a matter of where and when.

[pigeonp0st]

Hi! Since your taking some request I was wondering if you could do one about Wonder woman x reader where the reader is insecure about her body because she is literally dating a goddess and Diana notice her being distant and always avoiding to look in a mirror. Can it be like super fluffy and all. Thx I am currently binge reading each of your imagines 🥰love you and thx again

Diana Prince x Reader #1

Words: 1918

Warnings:

Self-loathing, Self-harm (not intentionally), body dysphoria , blood. Please don’t read if any of these things will make you upset or triggered!

Notes:

You said super fluffy and my mind didn’t register it holy fuck. Uh...oops? This is really dark and i’m sorry if it’s too far from what you were hoping for. I enjoyed writing it though, so thank you for requesting. (Sorry for spelling mistakes.)

————

You aren’t jealous of her. You aren’t.

It’s just...well...Diana’s a goddess. Literally. Even people who don’t know she’s Wonder Woman would call her that without question, just based on her looks.

And you’re...you're you. You’re you so you get asked often, by dense people not intending to be rude, how you managed to get with her.

You’re you so whenever you’re in a room with her you’re practically ignored. You're you so people’s eyes always widen when you say Diana’s your girlfriend, because HOW.

How, you can tell they’re wondering. Someone like Diana deserves to be with some rich model, not you.

God...you hate this. You hate feeling this way, and you hate that it involves Diana so largely. It’s not her fault the world is the way it is, it’s not her fault you’re the way you are, but it’s hard. It’s hard looking at her and not seeing all of your imperfections mirrored on her loving face.

It’s hard to look at her, and not compare what she looks like with what you look like. It's hard looking at her and not remembering all of the ways you’re undeserving...all of the ways you're not enough.

It’s not as hard as looking in the mirror though. You can stand the sadness when you look at her because she smiles so brightly sometimes, and she’s just so loving that it’s hard to think about negative things when she starts laughing.

It’s hard believing she can’t possibly love you when she’s standing in front of you doing exactly that.

The seconds she’s gone though...the second she’s gone it comes back in full force, and lately you’ve been so overwhelmed thinking about dealing with the ‘after Diana leaves’ that you’ve been avoiding being with Diana as much as you can.

You hate it, and each time you reject her with another excuse you hate yourself just that little bit more too.

—-

You can’t avoid her ALL of the time though, and it’s not like you want to.

Diana comes to your house one day, more unsure of herself than she usually is, and looks around the room like she’s unfamiliar with it.

It hasn’t been that long since she’s been here, you don’t know why she looks so curious about—

“All of your mirrors are gone,” Diana notes, freezing you in your tracks. Then, she glances down to your wrapped hands, eyes wide. “You’re hurt,” she whispers, completely concerned now. She reaches for you but you pull away before she can touch you.

“I’m fine.” You say it through gritted teeth and with adverting eyes, and it’s so clear that you’re not.

It’s so clear that you’re not, but Diana nods her head like she believes you and wraps her arms around herself like the room just got ten times colder.

Everything feels ten times heavier suddenly, too heavy when you’ve been so tired for what feels like ages. Fuck. You just want your girlfriend, you just want your goddess. Why do you have to worry about what the rest of the world thinks?

“Diana.”

She looks up immediately, confusion lined in every inch of her. She’s clearly trying to put the puzzle piece together but she’s missing too many pieces to understand.

You wonder if she’d even be able to understand if she had all of the pieces—if she could see what was happening to you. Could Diana understand something she’s probably never heard about in her island of beautiful women? Something she’s probably never had to deal with?

You don’t say any of that though. You don’t say the words that feel like they’re ripping your insides apart. Instead, you say, sheepish; “wanna watch a movie?” Like nothing is wrong in the world, because maybe if you act like it enough it will become true.

Maybe if you act like it enough you’ll forget last night, the night where you went around shattering every mirror you owned. Some of them with the impact of the floor, and others with your fist.

Maybe if you act like picking which movie to watch is your biggest concern in life, you’ll forget about the medical bills sitting on the counter because some of the glass dug in so deep all you could see was red on your hands, and all you could feel was helpless.

Maybe—

“Sure,” Diana agrees, offering you a comforting smile.

Maybe Diana deserves more than a person that deludes themself to stay tethered

——

You’re an idiot.

Your wallpaper switched from a picture of you and Diana to a picture of just Diana a month ago, but you stupidly forgot that Diana hasn’t changed hers also.

So naturally, since the world hates you lately, Diana’s phone lights up with a call—she completely ignores it while being completely entranced in the movie—and you glance at it to see if it’s someone important, someone Diana would want to answer to.

You pay zero attention to the person who called Diana after you see the picture.

“Diana.”

You don’t register it’s your voice speaking until Diana turns to you. She couldn’t register the sound of her phone ringing but she registers the sound of your voice and you love her, you love her, you—

“Change your background.”

Diana blinks, once, twice, then; “why? I like it.”

“Diana,” you repeat, heart beating a million miles a minute, and voice several pitches higher. “Change your background.”

“Why?” Diana asks again, but it’s softer this time, softer and on the verge of seeing the puzzle even without all of the pieces.

“Because people will—” you pause, your voice hitching, “please...just change your background, please Diana, please, for fucks sakes, please just—”

“Okay,” Diana whispers hurriedly, alarmed by your desperation and quickening breaths, and pulling you into her arms. “Okay.”

But you’re not done. “Not of me, Diana,” you continue, frantically. “Don’t change it to another one of me, okay? Change it to—to something else.”

Finally—finally, Diana tenses under you, hit with a realization that’s larger than her, and larger than her beauty, and something that isn’t really actually about her, something that’s always been about you, that she happens to involuntarily bring out more because of her affect on other people.

She’s hit with the realization on a Monday night, with you still frantic and broken in her arms from just one image. She’s hit with the realization in a home with no mirrors. She’s hit with the realization with a small, quiet mumble of your hardly comprehensible words; “Diana, they’ll think you’re crazy. I don’t want you to believe your crazy for—”

“Why did you get rid of your mirrors?”

It’s your turn to tense and become silent. You even try pulling away but Diana keeps her arms around you to keep you with her (to keep you tethered, because Diana works better than any delusion). “Y/N, why did you get rid of your mirrors?” She asks again, “why are your hands wrapped? Why can we never go out together anymore? Why is your wallpaper just a picture of me and not you, why—”

“I think you should leave.”

“Why aren’t you talking to me!”

Silence. Diana let’s out a stuttering breath and then she’s pulling you closer to her, closer, closer, and whispering over, and over again, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, I'm not angry at you, you’re okay.”

And you're shaking in her arms, clutching her coat, wishing for happiness without delusions.

Then...you’re being honest, telling Diana everything between shaky breaths, and sobs.

You’re giving her the puzzle pieces, not expecting her to understand what she’s looking at, but wanting her to care about it anyways, to find it important, and something worth looking at.

Diana lets you speak even though she’s clearly against half of the things you’re saying about yourself because she wants to understand the puzzle you built while she wasn’t looking.

——

When you’re done, and all that is left is dried tears on more than one pair of cheeks, Diana finally speaks. First though, she asks that you don’t interrupt her. You agree.

“Okay,” Diana sighs, “you won’t believe me—you can’t—but I find you to be the most beautiful person in this world, and any other, in these times, and any other.”

Here, Diana is wrong. You don’t believe this to be anywhere near true about yourself, but when you meet Diana’s eyes you do believe that this is something she believes without doubt.

This is something she believes as simply as the sky being blue.

“And that’s because of what you look like on the outside, but it’s also because of who you are regardless,” she smiles at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes full of nothing but love and concern, and then pain.

“Believe it or not,” Diana starts, voice soft, “I look at you, and everything you are, and sometimes i’m the one who feels undeserving. You feel...brighter than me sometimes. More...more everything, and I—sometimes I feel like you offer more than I give,”

Diana saying that is humorous because all she has ever done is offer, she offers even now after you’ve shown her cracks she wasn’t supposed to see...you’ve come to realize though that if someone feels something to be true... then it’s true to them, and it will hurt them just the same.

“I can not change the way you see yourself, just as you cannot change the way I see you, but I…” Diana pauses, staring searchingly into your eyes until you have to look away, “I want to help you. I will do whatever I can to make you believe me, i’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it and…” another pause, this one longer and sadder…

“I want you to look at me love you, and then when I'm gone I don’t want to be a reminder of your unworthiness, but a reminder of the worth you possess, to me—and so many others.”

“Diana…”

“It’s okay,” she assures, “for now, if you can’t believe you're physically beautiful, I'll show you all of the larger, more meaningful things about yourself until all you can see when you look in the mirror is someone who brings light into people's lives, someone who is loved. Someone who is great.”

And you're crying again now, but this time Diana is the one talking. She is reassuring you, and she’s showing you puzzle pieces, except this puzzle is another one, this puzzle isn’t about the way you see yourself, it’s about the way she sees you, it’s about the way people who matter to you see you, and even the ones that don’t.

This puzzle is larger than the one you showed her, and from the pieces you allow yourself to see, the pieces you’re able to accept right now, it’s a more beautiful one.

For the first time in a long time, you can imagine believing all of the things she tells you. You can imagine it, and when you do you’re sobbing even harder, because yes. Yes, that is what you want.

Diana will be there by your side on the journey to love, like she was there to the last ‘love journey’...but this one isn’t about loving her, it’s about loving you exactly as you are.

Who better to get you to love yourself than the person who loves you most?