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no-droids · 4 years

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Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!

A/N: Hey yall!!! So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read! School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕

Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!! As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!

Day 5–11:13am:

You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot. Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider. You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns. The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.

Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime. Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip. You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago. On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes. Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.

It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.

“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it. “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it. Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy. Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you. Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.

“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth. “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”

Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours. “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids. “They start at eight.”

The fireworks, you almost forgot. You know what? Today is a good day. You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one. The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back. Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.

Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates. The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago. The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask. Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes. It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by. Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony. Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color. Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.

Extravagant, magnificent are both words. Floral is another.

It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city. As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming. The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete. You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you. Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers. Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops. Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them. You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.

About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch. There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself. Good intentions, terrible idea. Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours. It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at. Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.

Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language. Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different. It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy. Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it. Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on. There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.

At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin. You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.

A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession. First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always. Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs. Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions. The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…

Through it all, you think of Din. No matter the faces, the sights you see. There’s someone juggling. There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts. There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed. Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din. Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you. You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year. You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go. For you, he’d go.

Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second. Why… Why was that scene so vivid? So wistful? You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din. But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation. Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him. Why? You want to travel the galaxy, right? You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?

For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.

More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over. You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.

“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress. So many fucking people here, you know her pain. “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”

She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.

“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you. “Before anyone knows they’re missing. Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while? You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”

Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task. Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be. Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days. The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.

“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees. It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem. “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”

You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word. You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.

Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you. The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet. The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.

“How did you find us so fast?” One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.

“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn. Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off. All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult. “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”

“Are you gonna rat us out?” The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.

“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away. “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”

You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.

The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second. Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective. Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—

He’s here… isn’t he?

Only, there’s nothing. Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will. You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.

It’s so… unexpected, this feeling. It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter. You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens. Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not. Playing with you from so far away.

This… this is a taunt.

The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary. Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was. This is scarily sophisticated. Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you. You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid. You know him with your eyes closed. You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace. Not because you can see it, not really, not directly. But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.

“You okay, Nerida?”

The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you. The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.

“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room. He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least. But you’re not stupid, you know what this means. You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way. He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down. You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.

“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools. “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left. Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows. You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering. Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.

Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place. When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily. A purple fruit. She must’ve saved it for you.

Maker, fuck yes. It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors. As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards. It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him. You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.

Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it? It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float. It’s just a thing. Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives. Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles. You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time. You don’t know what else you’d call it. Love is the only word. To love, to know. To hold in the heart.

Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group. You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.

“Where is everyone going?” You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem. It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together. They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately. Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next. A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.

“The eastern part of the city!” Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings. “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”

“Is…” You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn. Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway. “Is it part of an ocean?”

Naydee shakes her head. “A really big lake!”

Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it. You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view. And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.

Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage. You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze. So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you. Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes. They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown. You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.

And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on. All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out. They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything. You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city. It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time. You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.

And that’s when you see him.

But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen. You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for. Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away… This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes. If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.

You have a decision to make, very quickly. Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear. Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time. Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.

You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping. Baby. He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion. You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to. You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.

Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly. What do you do, what do you do?

No matter what, you know it’s over. Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result. What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you? The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.

Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear. When you do see me… try to outrun.

You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.

Unless…

Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor. You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right. This maybe has a… two percent chance of working? Maybe? Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have? Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.

You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead. He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing. Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left. Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—

A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.

Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear. Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.

You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.

“Miss Nerida?” A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him. Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.

Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner. They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units. Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you. Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.

Just a few more hours, kid. A few more hours.

Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.

“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking. Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong. “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”

They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you. You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it. She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.

“What did you do?” He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice. He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed? The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.

You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory. It worked. It worked. You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip. Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.

“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze. “Don’t get caught.”

There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds. “You look beautiful.”

You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you. The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

He had you. You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere. In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you. Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.

But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you. They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following. It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.

He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour. It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.

Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes. There was… a moment. Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet—

No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be. It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.

But he can’t get rid of it. Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered. The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear. It was silvery, he’s almost certain. Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.

Color. Everywhere. Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it. Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream. The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.

That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would. You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.

You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now. You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud. You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though. Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be. Fully, without worry or fear.

Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—

It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen. So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it. You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.

As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response. There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.

Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.

Din.

You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above. You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself. “Do you always see in black and white?”

It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does. “Only when I’m tracking someone.”

The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you. You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is. He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?” You ask after a moment. This whole time, everything has been grey for him?

“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all. “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”

For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying. Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly. He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him. “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”

He takes a second, before clarifying for you. “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”

So that was the ultimatum. He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again. Does he not understand? Does he not know what you know? Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him. It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest. And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive. Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t. Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.

“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky. It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point. “You’d find me without the helmet. And I’d find you.”

The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick. You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course. That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred. Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight. This is a celebration of life and family. Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching. A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.

“Think so?” He asks softly. He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant. You’re able to hear it in his words. You don’t know why, though. Doesn’t he believe you? Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way. Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all. Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love. This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that? How would the Mandalorians reconcile that? You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face. It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.

“I know so.” For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does. Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you. “Will you look at the sky?”

“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t. Not the way you want him to. And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you? The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest. You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them. All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time. You want him to know the significance of that.

“With color?” You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.

“I…” Din wants to argue, or at least say it again. He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off. It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.

“How do I fix it then?” You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold. How do you fix this problem? How do you convince him to look with you? You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left. “Do you want me to come look for you? It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away. Look at the sky.”

It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay. You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response. You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you. He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.

But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again. This must be the end, they saved the best for last. Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.

“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you. Maker, it is, isn’t it? Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying. Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.

It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways. It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.

Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.

“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on. “Come and find me.”

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you. Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.

Stars, that’s a lot of children. They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.

“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her. “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up. At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you. Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day. You’re going to have to say goodbye now.

“What happened to your family?” She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention. “Have you been in touch with them? If not, I’m sure you can come back with us. It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”

You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.

But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?

There’s more people here. More danger, but better places to hide. It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense. But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women. He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.

It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule. Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses? Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time? No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.

“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that. Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end. Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond. Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical. Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it. You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.

“I…” Quick, come up with something. You clear your throat. “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them. I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”

Naydee smiles and nods. “Sounds perfect.”

Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t. You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is. You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them. But with Din, you don’t have any walls. They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since. It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.

Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is. Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back. The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out. You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.

You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is. You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time. He could be anywhere now. Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view. One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so. Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.

The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach. Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy. If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it. These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous. Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.

It doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong. This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so. It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier. Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet. Why? Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right. What’s he waiting for? You can’t have won. It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.

“Sorry!” Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face. “Didn’t mean to scare you! I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there. “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”

You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus. She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din. Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you. You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far. Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards. You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls. What is he doing?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it. “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently. The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.

Fuck, you just need to breathe. As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax. You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance. Breathe. Focus. There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.

Can you eat? You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy. You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now. The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard. It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there. The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there. Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator. Five minutes. You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you. Can you feel him? Is he closing in?

You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath. Focus on that feeling from earlier. The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards. Can you feel him?

Something catches your eye.

Or no… it doesn’t, does it? Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss. The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual. Nothing else.

But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall. It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat. He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?

Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back. You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—

—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.

Run. Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t. Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass. He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can. The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away. Where’s the kid? How did he get those robes? Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?

Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.

You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them. It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward. Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster. Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.

As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you. Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.

Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you. Walk right by… Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing. He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place. The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight. Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away. The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster. It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.

You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet. Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door. Where is he? There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them? Wasn’t he right behind you?

Behind you.

There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react. Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.

Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast. The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him. With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw. When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.

But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you. Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone. You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—

Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force. He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.

Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared. The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.

But then, your downfall. Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it. He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.

Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.

The whole thing is like coming home. You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is. Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you. Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else. His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it. It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough. The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way. His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet. You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck. You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.

“Where’s the baby?” You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.

“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling. Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now. It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps. “You lost, I caught you in time.”

“Did you?” You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you. Suddenly—

—Bong—

Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells…

…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.

There’s a moment. Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring. It’s not going to.

One o’clock.

You think he puts it together. The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago. The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic. Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together. He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work. Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.

But then Din moves so suddenly. You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side. You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.

Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl. The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber. He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that. Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside. You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up. It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.

Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise. Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.

But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that? First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you. It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.

You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.

“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you. Fuck, what is happening, what is happening? It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in. You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.

Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is. You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand. And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does. He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.

Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again. Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead. He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source. He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow? You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—

Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.” Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip. His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.

“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore. What does he want to see? You losing your mind again? Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?

Fucking… apparently. It’s what happens, after all. You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too. He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied. This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat. You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.

“I missed you, sweet girl. Did you miss me?” It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements. You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.

Did you just cum? You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now. The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak. If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak? You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.

When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.

“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out. He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him. It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder. He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—

Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation. It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it? That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally. Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder. That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.

This feels different from before, though. It’s deep, purposefully so. His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can. You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp. His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all. You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.

You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier. Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you. There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.

You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.

Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place. You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still. He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm. They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.

“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth. “Shh, tell me—”

“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”

“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”

“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”

You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds. Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough. You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

He kisses you to stop himself. But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that. Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light. It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever. He loves you. He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would. You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did. You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that. Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes. He loves you. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.

When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.

Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t. He loves you. You’re looking into his eyes right now. You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you. He loves you. Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—

The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.

You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat. Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—

Maker. You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before. You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face. A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you. You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.

Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again. Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight. Completely lovestruck.

How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him? You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see. His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees. It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.

Stars. He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met. Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you. Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away. For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.

Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.

“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips. “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”

You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second. He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw. Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own. “Some guy was wearing it.”

It takes you a second.

“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat. It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed. “What did you do to him? Where is he?”

He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long. He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence. He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.

“Ma—”

“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.

You don’t know which word to emphasize. A fucking closet? They’re? Plural? Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him. “They're in a closet.”

“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him. His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead. Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.” He kisses your neck so gently. “It was an accident.”

You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is. You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before. “Did they put up a fight?”

“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more. “You did.” Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again. “Did so good. Fought hard, outsmarted me. Pretty fucking girl.”

And then your eyes pop open as you feel it. His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it. He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?

“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful. Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it. Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second. You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but… “Mando, we can’t—”

His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper. Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time. It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.

“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips. “Not smart. Bad idea to fuck again.”

Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder. His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.

“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person. “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”

Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants. Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.

“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment. He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.

***

Commotion.

After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery. Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting. Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.

Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore. Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way. No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.

When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown. Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about. A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.

Hm. Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children. A mystery that may never be solved.

It makes you take a second. The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit. Of course. Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene. In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.

“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”

The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in. Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you. Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are? You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.

“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it. It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine. “It’s just…” Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond. “My… kid.”

Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit. “That is your child?”

You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you. All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return. What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.

“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms. “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip. “You making friends?”

He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging. He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet. No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?

“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes. “He’s… uh. Not great at sharing. We’ll work on it.”

Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing. Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.

Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side. They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond. Fuck, he’s a presence. An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse. Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone. Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.

You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything. Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.

Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded. And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning. He loves you, too. How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not. You love each other. You’re family.

So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.

“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him. “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”

It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you. Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears. Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye. You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.

Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh. A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh. Where the fuck did he go so quick? You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue. He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.

You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them. The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.

***

About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over. You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.

“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side. You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways. “I gave them the night off.”

“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.

“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any. “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”

Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought. “Wait. What do you mean you gave the robe back?”

He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet. “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”

If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement. You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.

“You fucked me wearing it, though.” Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.

“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator. Did he not even consider this?

“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him. You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him. “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then. You gave it. Back.”

Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time. You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact. You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.

Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.

You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle. Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.

The crib—he forgot the crib—

“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board. Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice. He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky. It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look. He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing. It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.

You raise your voice. “Din?!”

“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.

“What about the crib?” You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.

“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily. Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them. You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.

Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.

Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you. His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.

What’s he doing? He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.

Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.

“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”

Okay, well. You could just about fucking cry.

“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him. He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day. “It ain’t fresh. Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”

The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy. He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him. He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well. Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.

You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.

“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him. It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush. Big man, makes me happy. Strong man, loves me, knows me. Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.

Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm. You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you. When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.

“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.

“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once. “It has to cool down.”

He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him. Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave. He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.

So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits. Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it. For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be. You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.

“Well, do you wanna just…” You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors. “Shop around for a bit?”

“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic. Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.

“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction. Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore. “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”

From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner. Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights. It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense. Muted, softer, more romantic.

“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything. You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here. “That stale caf was the last of it.”

Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.

“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his. “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”

So that’s what you do. Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him. At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too. There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.

You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner. The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his. You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky. He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less. You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.

You think he might shower? You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest. It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.

Home.

***

@followwhereshegoes Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #smut #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Note

I'm sorry for adding on to your pile of requests but I just wanted some family fluff with sbi where all of the siblings are having fun on a road trip or vacation

I don't know if that's specific enough for you if you want a little more detail maybe they're just being really dumb and making stupid videos with each other because that's something my sister and I do a lot

(A/N): I hope you don’t mind that I added Kristin and Tubbo (BASED ON THE CHARACTERS, NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE). Real life AU btw (no covid tho)

Okokok so this is deadass something Philza and Kristin is both dreading and looking forward to

1. They love spending time with their family especially now since yall are getting older and don’t spend as much time together anymore/getting ready to fly the coop

2. Have you met the SBI fam? Chaos incarnated.

After packing, yall set out on your trip to the hotel yall rented for a week or so (about an eight hour drive away from the house)

You and your twin Tommy 100% smuggle Tubbo underneath all of the luggage and a blanket

You’ll just ask them for forgiveness when you’re about halfway through

It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission

Wilbur and Technoblade catching you hiding the stowaway and blackmailing you both into doing their chores for a few week

Seating: Phil and Kristin in the front, Tech and Wil in the middle, You and Tommy in the back, and Tubbo in the trunk (it’s a mom van)

Before getting too far into the trip, a gas station is raided for snacks and drinks

Philza raising a brow at the amount of food you and Tommy get

Philza’s eyes were torn off from the refrigerator in front of him by his wife lightly nudging him. Looking at her in question, she raised her eyebrows and pointed at their youngest kids. It looked like they were just looking at the Monster drinks, so why- oh god the last thing he needed was two already hyper teenagers hopped up on Monster trapped in a car for eight hours. Before he could go over there to stop them, Kristin grabbed his arm.

“They’re up to something. Listen to what they’re saying.”

He strained his ears to hear what you both are whispering to each other. “...e like this flavor?”

Tommy shrugged, “I dunno. I’ll text him.”

As Tommy texted someone, Phil looked back at his wife. She wore a similar wary expression as they both stared at each other. He nodded in confirmation, “definitely. How do you reckon we confront them?”

He watched as his wife thought for a moment before she sighed and looked at him with a hint of excitement in her eyes, “let’s wait to see. It might be a pleasant surprise.”

“What? Are you mad?” He eyed his youngest gremlins once more. It seemed that they finally decided on a flavor and are now moving on to the snack portion. He looked back at his wife and felt his heart skip a beat at the small grin on her face. “...fine. Let’s just see what they’re doing after they do it.” Oh, the things he does for love.

He kept a very close eye on you two after that

You both are on your phones for longer than usual

Texting Tubbo so that he wasn’t lonely

Tubbo has fun with hiding too, never being bored at all

The only thing that he (and you and Tommy) struggled with was holding in his laughter

You jumped as you felt someone gently slap your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Tubbo’s hand peeking over the backs of the seats. You glanced at your parents in the front seats, they were deep in conversation. Good. You saw Tommy stifle a laugh and pull out his phone to record.

Tubbo made grabby hands at something but you didn’t know what he wanted, so you decided to mess with him a bit. Smirking, you put your earbuds in his hand. It snaked back underneath the blanket before he threw it back at you and did more intense grabby hands. You put your metal water bottle in his hand. He did the same thing before he threw it back at you. It collided with your forehead with a loud bong sounding throughout the car. Tommy started to laugh loudly and ended the video. You followed suit in the laughter as Tubbo’s hand froze midair and quickly slinked back into his lair.

All noise in the car came to a halt as they all looked behind them (well, Phil glanced through the rearview mirror suspiciously) to see you and Tommy laughing your asses off with you holding your forehead. Through blurred vision, you could see Kristin looking at you with worry and Techno and Wilbur looking confused and mildly annoyed.

“(Y/n) honey are you alright? What happened?” You opened your mouth to respond, but only wheezes came out making you laugh harder. You could hear Tubbo silently cackling to himself in the back, the blanket shaking slightly. Without being able to speak, you only nodded your head and gave her a thumbs up.

Tommy sent the video into the siblings' group chat and you could see over Wilbur’s shoulder as he watched it before starting to cackle and save the video to his phone. Even Techno got a good chuckle out and saved it to his phone making Phil and Kristin even more suspicious. Well, Kristin was just excited for what you two (four? Was Techno and Wilbur in on it as well?) had planned. Phil could just imagine the chaotic things you had planned. And he did not like what came to his mind.

When the rest stop came eventually (about three hours into the trip), you all left the car to stretch your legs and take care of business

Taking separate ways to walk in pairs (same person they sat next to in the car)

You and Tommy wait until Phil and Kristin leave before getting Tubbo out of the trunk

You three vibe walking along the winding sidewalks for a bit before you come back to the car and get Tubbo back into the trunk

You, however, forgot to use the bathroom so you leave Tommy and Tubbo in the car

“Fuck, I forgot to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Be quick, I’m not fuckin telling em if we forget you.”

“Pfft, they won’t forget me. Stop joking around.”

With that, you left the car and made a beeline to the bathroom. After that, you went back to the car. Well, where the car was supposed to be. There was no sight of a van anywhere in the parking lot. That asshole, he just let them drive off? He and Tubbo’s probably giggling to themselves in the backseat like school girls. You were only gone for like eight minutes.

Sighing, you walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, pulling up Techno’s contact and calling him.

He picked up after a few rings. The second you heard the dial tone stop, you spoke to him, “check the backseat.”

“What? You’re taking a nap, why’re you calling me I’m literally right in front of you.”

“Just fuckin check, Tech.”

In the background, you could hear Tommy snickering to himself. You heard some rustling before Techno started laughing, “Dad, we left (y/n) at the rest stop.”

“YEAH YA FUCKIN DID!”

You could hear loud laughter from your brothers and muffled cursing from Phil. You heard Kristin tell Techno to hand her the phone.

“We’re so sorry, we’re turning around right now. We’ll be there in about five minutes. Stay in one place and don’t talk to strangers.”

“I dunno Mom, that trucker looks really friendly. Might do some hitch hiking with him.”

You ended up befriending an old lady when she sat next to you on the bench with her husband. She even gave you some butterscotch and those strawberry hard candies that all older people somehow have but you can never find in stores. Her husband was telling you stories about his younger days when you saw the familiar van pull into the parking lot. Waving goodbye, you thanked them and hopped back into the car.

After profuse apologizing from your family and scolding Tommy for tricking them, you were on the road again. You glared at Tommy with a small smile on your face, “you fuckin prick. Did you seriously make it look like I was sleeping under a blanket?”

“Yeah, I told you that I wouldn’t tell them if we forgot you.”

“You fuckin dick,” you grabbed a few butterscotches and strawberry candies and handed some to Tubbo after ensuring your parents weren’t looking. He took them gratefully and quickly. You heard him whisper a ‘thank you’ and opened them with plastic crinkling.

“Wha- are those butterscotches? Gimme some.” He was about to snatch them out of your hands before you moved away from him. “No, you left me at the rest stop. You don’t get any. Do you guys want some? I’ve got butterscotches and strawberry candies.”

After you handed them out to your family, Phil looked at you confused in the rearview mirror, “(y/n), where’d you get these?”

“Oh, I just made some friends with an old couple while I was waiting.”

“You what? What if they kidnapped you?”

“Naw they couldn’t’ve. Ethel has hip problems and Charles was in a wheelchair. They were chill anyway.”

“...Just- just don’t do that again.” “Well don’t forget me again at a rest stop three hours away from home and you got yourself a deal.”

After a while the family was chill again and everything was back to normal

It was getting closer and closer to when Tubbo would make his reveal

You three agreed that Tubbo would just wait for the perfect time

That time came about three hours later when Phil and Kristin was asking everybody where they should stop for food

“So kids, we have three options: McDonalds, Wendy’s, and Arby’s. What do you want?”

“Wendy’s is obviously the superior choice.” Tommy proclaimed and you nodded in agreement. You leaned back and whispered to Tubbo, “now would be a great time.” You pulled out your phone to discreetly record the front seat.

“No it isn’t. Arby’s is you heathens.” Wilbur chimed in, glancing at his twin for back up. Techno shrugged, “I’m fine with anything as long as it’s edible.”

“I’m more of a fan of Wendy’s myself!” Tubbo’s muffled voice chimed in from his makeshift hut in the trunk. You snickered as Kristin whipped her head around to look at the back seat and Phil’s eyes snapping up to look at you through the rearview mirror.

“...Tubbo?”

“Hi Mrs. Tommy and (y/n)’s mum!” You flipped the camera around just in time to catch Tubbo poking his head out of the blanket and grin sheepishly at them. You panned over to Tommy’s ruby red face as he was holding in his laughter before flipping it back to the front.

“You absolute gremlins, this is what you’ve been hiding?” Phil scolded you and Tommy, his knuckles whitening from gripping the steering wheel. You could see his shoulders bouncing slightly with a slight strain in his voice from holding in chuckles.

“Honey, have you been in the trunk this entire time?”

“Yeah, but it’s quite comfy back here! Tommy and (y/n) gave me pillows and some snacks. Got some stretching done at the rest stop.”

“You’ve been back there for six hours?” Phil’s incredulous voice asked.

“Yep! Don’t worry, I had a lot of room. Anyways, my vote goes to Wendy’s.”

The car was quiet before Kristin started to laugh, “Wendy’s it is. See Phil, I told you it was gonna be a pleasant surprise!”

Tubbo sat between you and Tommy in the backseat for the rest of the trip

Techno and Wilbur saying that they knew Tubbo was back there but left out the blackmail part

There was no way they’d risk losing their little siblings doing their chores for them for a few weeks

At the hotel, the rooming was the same as the seating in the car

You, Tommy, and Tubbo having the time of your lives alone in your hotel room

Jumping on the beds, checking for hidden cameras and double sided mirrors (well, that doesn’t sound fun, but you had fun doing it), truth or dare, racing each other down the halls at night time, the works

B L A N K E T F O R T S (but always cleaning up the hotel room in the mornings bc yall are respectful to the staff)

Getting plenty of videos of you guys ding dong ditching Techno and Wilbur’s room

Them getting tired of it so they tell Dadza and Momza and they tell you to stop : (

Walking around aimlessly around the hotel hallways with Wilbur and Techno

Going up and down elevators aimlessly

Pulling an all nighter with Tommy and Tubbo on the last day

Philosophical late night talks when yall hardly know what you’re saying anymore (and becoming closer than ever before)

“Tommy, Tubbo?” You three were currently sitting on the balcony chairs looking out at the empty parking lot and the occasional cars driving by. It was about three in the morning and you guys were determined to stay up all night. “If you think about it, a hotdog is puréed meat in an intestine casing. When we eat the hotdogs, we turn it back into puréed meat. It eventually goes through your intestines which makes you the hotdog for a solid couple of hours.”

“...What the fuck, (y/n).”

“No no, they’ve got a point. Don’t you understand, Tommy? We are hotdogs.”

“...I’m starting to think you guys need sleep. Speakin nonsense.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you two reckon we’re alone in the universe?”

“What do you mean, Tubbo?” You glanced at the male next to you and raised an eyebrow. He was looking up at the stars with furrowed brows.

“Like, do you guys think there’s life out there. Looking down at us right now wondering the same thing.”

You hummed and looked up at the stars. They were twinkling down at you with the occasional shooting star blazing by. Red lights from far off satellites being the only visible sign of humans in the dark expanse of space. “I think so. I mean, nobody knows how big the universe is. You never really know.”

“Honestly I don’t know what’s scarier, being the only lifeforms and being completely alone or having things out there that we don’t know about.”

You sling an arm over your twin’s shoulders, “that doesn’t matter. As long as we have each other, we’ll never be alone. We’ll face whatever the universe has in store for us together.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know, I just hate it when people only see me as the loud annoying one. It really gets to me sometimes and I don’t know what I should do about it. Fuck, even Wil and Tech see me like that.”

“Toms, fuck them. They don’t know you like we do. You’re caring, ambitious, and brave.”

“Yeah, don’t listen to what they say. We’ll prove them wrong when we form our own nation one day.”

Tommy’s sullen expression slowly melted into a smile, “yeah, I’d like that. You’d be the president.”

Tubbo grinned back at Tommy, “and you’ll be my trusty vice president and (y/n)’ll be our Secretary of State. We’ll rule together.”

“Our nation would be a place for people to escape tyranny and injustice. Somewhere where men could live free, you two would be amazing leaders.”

“What do we call it though is the question,” Tubbo hummed in thought.

“How about ‘Manberg’?”

You looked at your twin with half lidded, exhausted eyes, “I like it, but it needs more… pizazz. How about L’manberg?”

You watched as he smiled widely at the stars, “it’s perfect.”

Watching the sunrise together on the balcony wrapped in blankets

Sleeping on the rest of the way back home

Best sleep of your life

When you wake up (about an hour or so away from home), you see that there’s blankets over you three and you had your head on Tubbo’s shoulder, Tubbo had his leaned up against the seat behind him, and Tommy’s cheek was squished against the window

You stretch out your limbs a bit trying not to disturb the two beside you

Checking your phone to see pictures of you three sleeping sent into the family group chat with Kristin replying with a bunch of heart emojis

You send the videos and pictures you took along the way of you, Tommy, and Tubbo doing stupid things in the hotel room and in the car

If you looked in the middle row, you could see Wilbur watching the scenery pass by out the window with his earbuds in

Techno is reading one of his books (you have no idea how he doesn’t get car sick)

Phil and Kristin are talking lowly to each other holding hands on the center counsel

Soft radio music is playing in the background

Life is good

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #tubbo x reader #momza x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #requests #hellion's requests #1k special #hellion's 1k special #tw: swearing

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 4)

i hope yall enjoyed the last part, we took a sudden and quite dirty turn ther,e but we are heading down romantic street and its all sweet and cute with a little hotness. let me know what you thought about the part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Harry Styles managed to leave quite the impression in you following his late night visit after the Emmys. He surely surprised you with not only the unbelievable orgasm he gave you with his talented fingers, but also with how big of a gentleman he really was, so keen on taking you out on a date first before he would kiss you. The timeline got a little messed up and he did apologize before he left at two in the morning for getting too carried away, but you assured him he didn’t do anything you didn’t want him to. To be honest, you wouldn’t have had a word against him kissing you right away, but you liked the respect he had for you, not something you’ve had plenty of lately. The men you dealt with in the past year were eager to get into your pants without the respect part, only hungry to earn fame through you, trying to blind you with sex so you wouldn’t realize their ugly motives.

This was not a threat when it came to Harry, he was just as famous as you, maybe even more. He had his own career, his own money, his own life apart from yours and he clearly wasn’t trying to use you and it was quite a refreshing change for you.

He stayed and the two of you talked so much, just sharing crazy stories from your life before and after fame, enjoying that you had someone who shared more or less the same background as you. Apart from Florence, you pretty much kept your old friends when your career took off, afraid to make new ones, always feeling a little paranoid that new people would have unholy motives when they try to befriend you.

Though you truly love your friends, they don’t really see behind the life you are living, while Harry completely does. His company is the best you’ve had in a long time, he is able to make you completely forget about everything outside the room you two are in.

You tried your best to hide your disappointment when he left that night. After offering him to stay in one of your guest bedrooms, he politely turned it down, and even though you could tell he wanted to stay, the urge to be a gentleman was greater in him, something you admire him for.

He left with the promise to see you soon on a real date and he got you as excited as a little school girl on the day of a fieldtrip.

However, given the lifestyles you two were living, finding a suitable evening for the both of you turns out to be a bigger struggle than you expected. Harry reaches out right the next day after his little visit. A good morning text waits for you by the time you open your eyes in the noon and by the evening he asks you out, however you have to realize the date has to wait a little.

You have two trip outside the city upcoming in the next two weeks and he is also planning to fly back to London for a while, the trips totally crashing in the timeline, not even having just the smallest window that would fit the both of you.

Accepting the fact that it would have to wait a little longer, you keep in close touch, eager to find the date that would finally be suitable for you and him as well. Endless texts, sweet calls and sneaky FaceTimes scatter through the days you spend apart and you find it hard to think of a time when he wasn’t hitting you up all the time.

On a Thursday evening, after a long day of fittings for upcoming events, you find yourself sitting on your couch with a sweet glass of wine, scrolling through your social media feeds when something catches your eyes.

Harry has been away in Los Angeles in the past few days and he mentioned having an interview the other day, but you didn’t think it would be out so soon, but here it was, a short video clip cut out by some random page that had a rather interesting title.

“Harry Styles talks about next album and mystery girl in his life.”

Your curiosity is way too strong not to click on it and have a look at it, so taking a sip from your wine you tap on the link and let the video load.

“It’s been some time since your last album came out, have you been working on new music lately?” the interviewer asked from behind the camera as Harry sat on a lilac sofa, wearing black high-waisted pants with a pink and white floral printed shirt tugged into it, his suspenders topping the look perfectly. His green eyes are fixed on the person asking him as he nods.

“Yeah, I think I never really stop making new music. I do have sessions when I’m trying to put a new album together, but I also write in the meantime as well, whenever I have an idea or inspiration. I don’t hold back,” he adds with a cheeky smile.

“Have you found any inspiration lately?” the question is heard and Harry nods once again.

“I have, actually,” he answers shortly, but his smirk gives it away that there’s a lot more behind his words and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Is he talking about you?

“Has it been a person?” the reporter inquires, making Harry’s smile grow wider.

“A lot of things and people inspire me.”

“Alright, and is your latest inspiration something or someone new in your life?” the guy tries again, even though it’s well known that Harry likes to give vague answers instead of straight yeses and nos.

“Kind of new,” he simply answers and the reporter realizes he won’t be sharing more about the topic so he moves on with the next question and the video cuts out right there.

Though it wasn’t mentioned that he was talking about someone in particular, his fans drew the assumption that he is definitely seeing someone who has been his inspiration behind his new music. Feeling bold and a little flirty, you open up your messages and send him a quick text.

“A kind of new inspiration, huh?”

His reply comes almost right away, as always.

“Have you been stalking fanpages about me?”

“Would it be weird?”

“From you? It’s flattering. Little scary, but in a good way.”

You can’t help but chuckle reading his words. He never fails to make you laugh, you find his humor your favorite kind, never hurtful, but a little spicy, if you could say that, a lot of irony laced into it.

“Back to the topic: what’s your inspiration? Or should I ask… who is your inspiration?”

“Not gonna beat around the bush and just admit it…”

You wait and wait… and wait, but nothing comes afterwards and you are dying to have him admit that it’s been you, but not even the three dots appear at the bottom, so you take the lead again.

“Well, do it. Admit it, Styles!”

The fucker likes your message right away, meaning he has been in the thread all along, waiting for you to write something.

“Alright, but don’t tell anyone, because she is kinda famous and I don’t want the media to find out about it.”

“You have my silence.”

You watch the three dots dance at the bottom, holding your breath while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to contain your wide grin that’s been plastered across your face this whole time.

When the text finally arrives you snort loudly, almost spilling your wine, laughing so hard you are happy you don’t like in a tiny apartment anymore with paper walls, because your neighbor would have definitely heard your laughter all the way down the hallway.

“It’s Betty White. Fuck, she is all I can think about.”

You need a minute to stop the laughter and type your reply.

“She is hot, gotta give you that.”

“Right?? I hope she is not afraid to date younger guys though.”

“I’m sure she would make an exception for you.”

“I hope so too.”

There’s a short pause, where you just read back his lines, chuckling to yourself some more. He always has a witty comment or comeback, no matter what you’re talking about and not once has he made you laugh madly on a set, at a meeting or just lying in bed before going to sleep.

“Joke aside, would it scare you away if I said I have definitely written about you?”

“Is this another theoretical question? Like the one you asked me on Ellen?”

You smile to yourself thinking back at the conversation the two of you had on the show when he was trying to figure out if you’d be up to give him your number.

“Maybe. So theoretically, would that be weird to you?”

“No,” you write, but quickly send another text. “But you know, it’s just theory. You’d have to tell me for real to find out.”

“Should have saw that coming…”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you muse to yourself, finishing up your glass and you carefully put it to your coffee table before sliding further down on the couch to get back to the conversation with Harry. You see that he hasn’t sent anything after his last one, so you decide to actually answer his question.

“Joke aside from my part, I wouldn’t find it weird. I think it’s flattering.”

“Okay, because I was ready to burn all my notes if you said it would be too much.”

“What if you’d be burning a Grammy worthy song though?”

“Would be a shame. But I would still burn it for you.”

“You are such a flirt…”

“Can’t help it! Or should I not be?”

“I like it. So don’t change.”

“Noted.”

Your little conversation has to come to an end since he is about to go into a meeting, but when you say your goodbyes and decide it’s time to head to bed, you already know a text will be waiting for you when you wake up in the morning.

Days and even weeks go by and you start to have a little too much on your plate. No matter how much you love your job and that it has always been your dream, sometimes you just need a breather. In the past week you’ve been in and out of auditions for a movie they keep top secret, you didn’t even get a script, just a few pages you had to memorize and they’ve been asking for more and more tapes from you with kind of absurd requests, but your agent told you it’s something major, that’s why they are so secretive. However, when they ask you to come in for another reading for the fifth time in seven days and you still don’t know what you are really auditioning for, you are kind of starting to have enough with all your other projects running at the same time. Your days start at six in the morning and rarely end before eleven in the night.

An entire month after the night Harry came over to your place, you kind of lose patience. The frustration that’s been building up inside you just simply bursts when your agent texts you on your way home that you’d have to go in for another casting in the morning for the same mystery movie.

“Have they not seen my face enough?” you snap, hands meeting the wheel as you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you.

“I’m sorry, Hun. I know it’s annoying, but they requested you, that means you are still an option for them.” Mona’s voice comes through the speakers of the car since your phone is connected to it.

“Do they need me to read the whole fucking Bible in front of a camera or what?” you growl.

“I have a good feeling about this last one, alright? And if they still can’t decide after that, we can always just say that we want out.”

“Then I would be labelled as the problematic little princess,” you sigh, knowing well how this industry works. Just one mistake and you can easily end up in a theoretical ditch.

“Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ll send you the details in email and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Bye, girl.”

Mona is an angel. She’s been your agent for about five years now, she is the one who gets you into castings, well, at least that’s what she was doing before you managed to reach your breakthrough. She got your name on lists you couldn’t even dare to dream of and she is the reason why you are here today. Now she mostly handles requests for you to go in for castings, creators started to reach out to you a while ago, though Mona still works her magic sometimes to get you into castings that are still out of your league.

By the time you get home, you are desperate to do something. Anything. You’ve been nonstop working these past weeks and you just need to get out of this loop that sucked you in. Before you could even think through what you’re doing, you dial Harry’s number.

He is back in the city, that you know of because he texted even before he got home. You both ditched the idea of having your date today, because you just knew it would be a long day for you, and it’s the truth, it’s past ten, so not quite ideal for a date, but you ran out of fucks to give.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” he asks, noticing that you called, which is not what you usually do, or at least not without checking in if he is free to talk.

“Yeah, sorry I called so randomly. Are you busy?” you ask, feeling a little out of breath, even though you definitely didn’t do anything physically hard. You just can’t help but feel anxious since you are about to ask him out on a spontaneous date.

“No, just… packing and all that. What’s up?”

“So you don’t have anything to do right now?” you clear up.

“No,” he chuckles.

“Alright, so then… what do you say we have that date now?”

Even with him always being so blunt and open about how interested he is in you, it still makes you perfect to ask him out. The silence that comes from his side doesn’t necessarily help either and you are already preparing yourself to get rejected.

“You know it’s ten pm, right?” he then asks, a little unsure if you really thought it through.

“I am aware, yes.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning? I know you always start your days so early, I don’t want to be the reason why yo—“

“Harry,” you stop him midsentence. “I do not give a fuck about what I’m doing in the morning,” you bluntly tell him and you can tell he is smiling on the other end of the call. “So the question is still the same. Do you want to have that date now?”

He doesn’t ask anything else, just simply say the following: “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

“Make it twenty,” you tell him and end the call before he could protest.

Ignoring the adrenaline rush you that just washed over your body you quickly make your way to the bathroom to take the quickest cold shower before putting on some clean clothes. You really don’t want to overdo it, knowing well since it’s so abrupt he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere that would require you look spotless. You choose not to put on any makeup, not just because you don’t have the time, but also because you feel a weird urge to just be bare, be yourself around him. The same goes for your outfit. You put aside all designer clothes and opt for a simple pair of jeans, a black tank top and a bright yellow knitted jumper over it, looking awfully casual, but feeling rather comfortable.

It takes Harry 22 minutes to get to your place, but you choose not to comment on those two extra minutes when you get into his car. Luckily, he isn’t dressed to impress either, wearing a simple pair of jeans with some kind of washed out, vintage printed tee shirt with his Bode Jacket he has worn in his famous SNL episode. His hair looks a little mess and even wet, making you wonder if your call caught him in the middle of a shower or he showered after you agreed to meet up.

“Long time no see,” he smiles at you, his boyish smirk making your heart flutter so easily as he eyes you while you buckle yourself up.

“You had plenty of paparazzi photos to look at in the meantime, Mr. Styles,” you smirk at him teasingly as he starts the car and leaves from in front of your complex.

“My favorite was the ones of you where you were walking out of a restaurant wearing that silk dress and the coat.”

“So you did see pap pictures?” you ask chuckling, you didn’t mean it entirely, but you find it funny that he actually saw pictures of you.

“You know, it’s been hard to avoid you online, especially because I keep liking all your posts so my phone thinks I’m interested in you. Which is true, and I’m not complaining about the content I’ve been seeing about you lately,” he admits chuckling and your eyes wander down to his ring clad fingers on the wheel. Your thoughts take you back to when they were touching you at places you haven’t been touched in a while. How they felt inside you and how desperate he could make you with just his hands.

You force yourself to look away from his hands and focus on the present time before your arousal becomes way too evident.

“Sorry I’m everywhere,” you smirk at him, enjoying the situation maybe a little too much.

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, glancing in your way for a moment, his green eyes meeting your gaze. “I don’t mind it,” he adds and those damn butterflies as quick to act up again in your stomach.

You don’t try to get him to tell where you are headed, wanting it to be a surprise yourself, so you just stare out at the night city as it runs past you, still quite a lot of people walking on the streets even though it’s now nearing eleven.

What you know is that you’re still in Manhattan and it seems like you won’t leave it either. Harry navigates his way through the city easily, he is not even using GPS, something you could never do. No matter how long you’ve been living here, you’ll always get lost in this jungle some call New York City. About fifteen minutes after leaving your complex, Harry parks the car down in a spot he found along the road, and looking out the window you’re trying to figure out where you are, but it doesn’t ring a bell. Seems just like a usual part of the Upper West Side, so now he has you curious about his plans.

“Where did you bring me, Mr. Styles?” you ask him as the two of you meet on the sidewalk and he glances at your with a sly smirk.

“Since you gave me such a short notice about our date, I thought I would show you one of my favorite places in the city and I hope you haven’t it.” “Well, I can assure you I don’t know it, because I have no idea what could be here,” you admit.

Harry nods at you to follow him and you walk side by side until the next corner.

“I think you already know that I’m English,” he starts off, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty evident,” you nod.

“So, in the past decade I haven’t spent as much time in the UK as I wanted, and a few years ago I discovered a little piece of my home in the city.”

Trying to figure out what he meant by that you don’t even realize where you just took a turn to. Harry stops and you snap out of your thoughts, looking up and seeing a charming little street ahead you, looking totally out of place in the city’s fashion. The townhouses all the way down look like they’ve been placed here straight from England, the Tudor style complex is a refreshing change in the fast paced, busy streets of Manhattan.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight in front of you, taking in every tiny detail with your eager eyes as the feeling of being in a fairytale takes over your mind. If only it weren’t for the busy noises of the streets around the micro-neighborhood, you would completely believe that you’ve been magically teleported to England.

“It’s called the Pomander Walk. Always makes me feel like I’m home away from home whenever I miss my family and my hometown.”

Harry starts walking down the narrow pavement that runs between the houses, lined with quite some greenery, something you noticed right away. There are just so many plants and flowers down the street, it’s pretty clear the residents keep them in good care.

You catch up with Harry, eyes still taking in the pleasant contrast Pomander Walk has to offer for any visitors.

“I feel like we are invaders,” you tell him. It looks so secluded, makes you feel like you weren’t even supposed to be here.

“Don’t worry, it’s totally public. The people who live here are pretty nice too. Love it when someone comes around.”

“How did you find this place?”

“A friend told me about it and just came to see it for myself one day,” he tells you as the two of you slowly make your way down the street, slow enough so you could see everything. “There are 61 units and they were built in 1921 by Thomas J. Healy. He originally wanted to build a hotel here, but didn’t have the money to just yet, so he built these instead to make some cash for the hotel. He never got to do that though, died a few years later, so Pomander Walk stayed.” You listen to him, soaking in every word that leaves his lips, finding his oddly specific knowledge about this place quite exciting and… kinda hot. You could listen to him talk about historical facts for days without getting bored.

“The whole complex was renovated in 2009, they restored a bunch of architectural details that lost through the years.”

“Looks fantastic. I wonder what they look like on the inside,” you muse, your eyes wandering over the colorfully painted old school window blinds on most of the townhouses.

Walking down the pavement you realize there’s not a single soul around here, something you don’t get to experience too often in the city.

“It’s not too well-known, right? I don’t see any tourists and all that.”

Harry shakes his head, eyes ahead of him as he hides his hands in his pockets.

“No, ‘s quite hidden, not often listed in sights to be seen in the city. That’s why I like to come here so much.”

“Easy to stay unnoticed,” you add with a smile as your eyes meet his gaze and he nods, returning the smile.

You walk back and forth on the street at least five times, just talking and sharing and laughing, finally falling out of the misery of your everydays. He still amazes you with how good of a company he is, with his broad view of life and many experiences, you can truly connect with him on a level you haven’t been able to reach with anyone in a long time.

It’s way over midnight when you head back to his car, holding hands that happened at a point earlier, but you can’t tell who reached for who. It was kind of mutual, but now you didn’t want to let go of him… ever. You let your fingers play with his S ring on his pinky while he keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand whenever he has the chance. It’s a little disappointing when you have to let go of each other when you climb back into his car and head back home.

“I know this date wasn’t much, but I hope you liked it,” he smiles at you shyly before his eyes snap back at the road ahead of him.

“Shut up, this was literally the best date I’ve had,” you tell him making him chuckle. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“Now it’s your secret place too. Maybe we’ll run into each other here one day.”

“I’ll definitely come back,” you admit smirking.

The city lights pass by you faster than you want them to, and you arrive to your complex way too early. Well, not according to the time, because it’s way past half past midnight now, but you just don’t want the night to end. However, you know Harry would not come up if you asked. He is way too big of a gentleman and he wouldn’t want to make you miss your appointment in the morning, but you are definitely collecting that kiss he promised a month or so ago.

“Walk me up, will you?” you ask him softly when he parks down in front of your building. He nods and follows you inside without a second thought.

You both know it’s about to happen, the air thickens between you two in the elevator and neither of you can hold back the small smiles on your lips. Harry walks next to you until you reach your front door and you turn to face him, his green eyes already examining your every move.

“I’m happy we finally got to do this,” you tell him, feeling a blush warming your cheeks from the way he looks at you now.

“I’m glad you called. Was starting to think we would never meet again,” he chuckles making you laugh as well. It really did feel like the universe was plotting against you, but you bet it didn’t expect your sudden move tonight.

There’s a longer pause where neither of you knows what to say or do next and your patience is running low, especially when you see him run his tongue over his pink lips. You just can’t wait any longer to taste them.

“Harry,” you breathe out, the frustration and desire at an all-time high now in your system. Never in your life did it take this long for you to get to a kiss with a guy you were clearly interested in and who returned the feeling as well.

“Yeah?”

“Swear to my lost Emmy Award if you don’t kiss me right now I’ll—“

You don’t get to finish, you don’t even know what you’d have said, but it’s all forgotten when Harry kisses you hard, hands cupping your jaw on both sides, angling your head to grant him the best access to your lips. You return the kiss without a second thought, hungrily tugging and pulling on his lips, your tongues meeting in the middle and fuck! He really knows how to make your toes curl with just a kiss. You grab a fistful of his t-shirt at his stomach, pulling him close and the cold touch of his rings on your skin makes you shudder. Everything about him makes your legs turn into jelly and you are willingly offering yourself to him without a doubt.

He pushes you against your front door, one of his hands wanders down to your waist and he gives it a gentle squeeze that makes you open your mouth more for him. You are a mess and so is he. You have no idea how long you make out, but when you eventually pull back, your chest is heaving and your lips feel swollen. Harry pecks your lips two more times before forcing himself to let go of you.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs in a low voice as he starts to back towards the elevator.

“Good night, Harry,” you say a little out of breath. He smirks at you one last time before walking into the elevator and the doors close, officially ending your first date.

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years

Text

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.

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thegreenmetblue · 2 years

Text

the heart wants what it wants

When peter got that e-mail saying he was invited to an engagement party, he didn’t imagine it would be from the man he’s been having an affair for 5 months.

yayy! i finally translated a second fic i wrote like two years ago djkdkdk its a short one, around 10k but im glad im finally done translating it 😋 i hope yall will enjoyyy

Peter has been staring at Tony and Pepper for almost 15 minutes now. He’s been there for… 15 minutes and he’s already asking himself why the fuck did he come. Tony and Pepper invited him. Of fucking course Pepper was gonna invite him but Tony… Tony should have pretexted something. Anything. He could have told Pepper that the boy had a school trip this week, or any damn lie he could have found. But no, and instead, the billionaire sent him an invitation to their engagement party through mail, saying that’d make him happy to see Peter there. Happy. What in the world would make Tony happy about Peter being there ? In 15 minutes, Peter just got Tony waving at him with his glass of champagne when he got there. And nothing more. Did he even think about Peter ? Did he even told himself, even once, that the boy would feel so freaking broken ?

So Peter’s just there, staring at Tony who’s talking with his fiancee. Those words echo in his head and crush his poor heart. His fiancee. The worst thing about all of this is that Peter learned it in that damn mail. Tony didn’t even had the courage to tell him face to face. So the boy came, but he already knows he’s not gonna stay.

His eyes are tied up to the man. And even if he’s mad at him, even if he’s completely crushed, he can’t help his breath stoppping while looking at Tony. He’s just so gorgeous… And it’s not fair. Because he’s sure that Pepper doesn’t love him as much as Peter does. Tony and him… He doesn’t know what they are, but they are something. And he knew Tony would do anything to deny it, to prove Peter nothing will ever really happen anymore, but he didn’t think the man would go this far, that he would marry Pepper…

Peter’s heart skips a beat when he sees the blonde woman pointing him to Tony. Shit. They’re coming here.

Pepper looks happy, Tony looks stranded and Peter just wanna run away. ”Peter, hi!”, Pepper says as Peter tries not to wince too much.

“Hi, Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark.”, he answers, being very careful not to call Pepper Ms. Stark.

“Kid.”, Tony greats him, avoiding directly looking at him. Kid. Peter wishes Tony would choke on that nickname.

“How are you ?”, the blonde woman asks him, a faint motherly smile on her face. Peter would almost feel bad for her. He doesn’t deserve this, but neither does she. But… It’s still her the lucky one tho get Tony Stark at the end of the day.

“Im fine, thanks. What about you ? Are you two excited ?”, the boy asks. Pepper answers but Peter isn’t listening because Tony is finally looking at him. And Peter looses himself in those gorgeous eyes. Peter always loses himself in those gorgeous eyes. “Did Tony help you with the dress part ?”

Peter’s head turns to the blonde woman again. She’s pretty. He must look like nothing compared to her… His eyebrows frown when Pepper’s question finally echoes in his head. “Uh no. It was Ben’s…”

In mirror with Pepper, he turns his head towards the billionaire. “Didn’t you tell me you were taking care of that part ?”, she asks and Peter sees Tony sighing and closing his eyes. Tony has been avoiding him for almost two months now. It’s surely not him who would have helped him choosing a suit for tonight.

“Yup, I did but wearing his uncle’s was more symbolic, right Pete ?”, Tony says with a serene smile. Peter asks himself how the man can lie like that. And more importantly, how can he sleep at nights. He isn’t even looking at the boy, he’s so already sure that Peter is gonna walk in his lie. But Peter’s hurt that Tony didn’t help him. He’s hurt that Tony has been ignoring him for way too long because he wasn’t able to face him. And he’s crushed by the fact the man is marrying Pepper.

“Actually, I don’t really remember you offering your help on this one, Sir.”, he answers, a bit insolent. Tony’s eyes lock hardly on him. Pepper stares at him, then stares Peter and sighs. “Im sorry, he was supposed to. But you wear that one perfectly well, Peter. Im sure your uncle’d think so too.”, she apologizes, putting her hand on Tony’s waist. Peter’s eyes follow the blonde’s hand and chokes.

“That’s… That’s okay, Im happy to wear Ben’s suit. Especially for an event like this. I guess that’s not every day that Tony Stark and Pepper Potts get engaged, right ?”, he chuckles with a fake smile. He’s doing too much. But maybe doing too much is better than letting the two of them see how he really feels.

“Uh Pep, I forgot to tell you, but that hot redhair one were looking for you.”, Tony finally informs and Peter’s heart skips a beat. He knew that was coming.

“Oh okay. You sure you alright, you seem tense ?”

Peter wants to laugh. This whole situation is so fucked up. Tony nods and pretexts something about being tired from having worked too late in the lab yesterday night. Sure.

Pepper looks at him, not surprised but a bit annoyed. “Of course you were, where else.”, she grumbles, probably more for herself than for Tony. “Gonna search for Rose. See you two later.”, she adds before getting away. Peter pretends to look at her leaving, cause he knows Tony’s eyes are on him again.

“Can we have a word, please ?”, Tony asks. asks… as if Peter could refuse.

“Oh so now you’re talking to me again ?”, the boy bites and he wished he sounded more angry and less hurt.

“Peter…”, Tony whispers and Peter sighs in defeat. He really doesn’t have a choice anyway. “What you wanna talk about, Sir ?”

“Not here, just follow me okay ?” Peter follows Tony god-only-knows-where. He can already picture his heart being crushed in million pieces at the end of that party.

continue to ao3

#starker fic #leah writes sometimes #the heart wants what it wants #starker

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migilini · 4 years

Note

Hiiii! I liked how you did the road trip one shot and was wondering if you could do a request for Charlie Gillespie where the reader and Charlie are dating but have been living in different states due to COVID and the boys do an Instagram live and the reader wants to be on the live with them and Charlie gets so excited and it’s fluffy?

So far apart - Charlie Gillespie

A/N: ofc i can! Thank you so much, hope you like it :) I will proofe read it tomorrow.

Words: 1.5k

Masterlist

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Tiredness was your new default state. College alone was stressful and hard enough plus it didn't help that you had to do it online from your little NY appartement that you shared with three other roommates. But you had too. You were in your last semester ever! That was motivation enough to pull through.

Currently you were trying to facetime your boyfriend Charlie. You haven't seen him in about four months but if someone would ask your roommates, they would say it felt like an eternity of you moaning and pouting about not seeing him. When COVID started, the two of you seriously debated about moving in together. However, at that time, your classes were not online yet and you couldn't move away, he also couldn't move to New York with you because he still had meetings with the JATP Cast.

You stared at your ringing phone, desperate to hear his voice. You knew that he should be awake, you had the time zones imprinted on your brain.

Sorry babe, have a meeting in 5… Will call you after okay? <3 the message that just popped up on your screen made you frown a little. You weren't mad, you just had a really awful week and missed him like crazy.

Sure thing <3 yout texted back and threw the phone onto your bed. Deciding that instead of waiting for him to call back, you could use the time usefully and start studying for your next test in two days.

It was an hour later, you were completely engrossed in the textbook, so you barely heard the ringing of your phone. Maybe a bit too quick, you tossed all your books to the ground and launched yourself on the bed to find your phone.

His pretty face filled your screen “Heyyy!” “Hello beautiful!” You two grinned at each other.

“How are--” A knocking on your door interrupted your question. “Yes?” The door opened and revealed one of your roommates Alexis with a sheepish look on her face “I’m really sorry to interrupt but Tara just broke off with her boyfriend and she needs a hug.”

You looked up at your red haired friend “She broke up with Tom?!” Alexis nodded “It's an emergency” she claimed. Charlie understood this as his clue to end the call saying a quick goodbye and a don't worry about it, when you shot him an apologetic look.

This is how it went nearly every time. Something always came up, either you were studying non-stop and he didn't want to distract you or he had actor things and meetings going on. It was truly tiring. The last time you really had the opportunity to facetime was a couple weeks ago and even then you fell asleep inert 15minutes. When Charlie accidentally lulled you to sleep with a song he's been working on.

Still the two of you made it work. Charlie had started writing you weekly letters with his perfume on it. And you being your crafty self, sent him a little care package with letters, some self made food and paintings, every now and then.

You just finished all your tests and essays for this semester and you felt free again. Taking a deep breath, you opened your bedroom window and put your school books away. Sinking down on your bed, you closed your eyes temporarily, enjoying the moment. You got up again to get yourself something to eat and a coffee. Your roommates were currently away, probably getting groceries or books at the College Library.

You mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, the sandwich you made yourself still laying next to you on the nightstand. Ever since Julie and the Phantoms released, the cast's accounts blew up like crazy and Charlie always showed you off like a queen so of course people found your page as well. You didn't mind though. Most of the people were really nice and respecting, protecting your relationship from all the not so nice guys

You just answered some DM’s, chuckling at a meme that Maddie had sent you, when you got a notification that Owen was live. Naturally you clicked on it, knowing that Charlie most likely will be in the live as well, due to the fact that he was currently at Owen’s with Jeremy.

You were one of the first ones. Owen grinned when he saw your name come up in the chat.

“Guten Morgen everybody.” You chuckled when you heard your boyfriend singing in the background, writing in the chat that Owen should say hi to Charlie. “Are all of you streaming JATP?” he asked the live audience while you nodded to yourself, your laptop open beside you. It was a bit embarrassing to admit how often you saw the show, but every time you felt lonely you watched it. It had some really cute guys in it after all.

He read the chat “Do you like watching the show you participated in? Thats a good question. Charlie, Charlie! I have a question for you.” The camera turned and it showed the canadian boy you fell in love with.

“Eh…” he said as he walked into the kitchen, Owen following close. “It was very weird at first. Guess I'm more used to it now.” he answered honestly. You weren't even listening, you just stared at your phone in trance, the light making him look so incredibly pretty.

Suddenly you got an invitation to join the live from Owen. You sat up a bit straighter and blinked a few times before accepting.

“Helloooooo!” he screamed, making you laugh. “Hi Owen. Yall are up early.”

“Yeah… you know Char. That dumb early riser.” he complained. “Yeah I feel you. Though he lets me sleep so he must love me more than he loves you.” you teased making Owen pout in a childish way.

“Charlie! Who do you love more, me or y/n?” the statement made your boyfriend laugh and for a moment your breath hitched, it was music in your ears and once again you realised how much you missed it.

“I’m really sorry bud, but definitely y/n…I want to...” Charlie just wanted to explain why when he heard your chuckling from Owen’s phone. “See told ya.” It was truly a blessing that the camera was still turned to your boyfriend, making it easy for you to see his reaction. He nearly let the fork he was holding fall out of his hand, his eyes widening while his mouth grew into a big grin. “Is that y/n?” he asked cautiously. Apparently Owen nodded, because before you knew, the camera turned and you were face to face with your boyfriend.

“Baby!” he screamed, a wide, toothy smile on his lips. “How dare you go on live with Owen but not with me!” he jokes. “How was the history test? As hard as you thought it would be?” you cut off his rambling “Hi! Nice to see you too. No, it was way harder than I expected. Let's hope for the best, I get the results sometime next week”

“I bet you killed that test baby! No, Owen you don't get the phone back… I don't care that it's your live.” The chat was freaking out over Charlie's happiness by just seeing you, talking about how they want love like that.

“Little explanation for everybody. Me and Charlie haven't really been able to facetime so were just really excited right now. Sorry if it's boring.” you explained to the chat.

“Don’t ever say that ever again.” he said in a serious tone “it's not boring.” you held your hands up in surrender. “Sorry sorry. Can I talk to Owen again? I mean he is the one who invited me.” you teased, poking your tongue out. With a pout he gave the phone back to Owen.

“Are you also streaming the show today?” he asked you. Charlie was in the background, looking at you over Owens shoulder, making silly faces. “Of course! Who do you think I am? I’ve been watching it everyday since it came out.” Owens' face fell “You're kidding… that doesn't… that doesn't seem healthy.” you shrugged “Well i don't really care. I have this massive crush on someone from the show, just can't get enough of him.”

The camera shook and a couple crunts later you were once again faced with Charlie. “I sure hope it's me or you're not allowed to wear that shirt anymore.” he pointed to the shirt you were currently wearing and that was in fact one of his.

“Not gonna tell you babe. My mouth is shut.” you winked, making him blush. “I miss you.” he blurted out with puppy eyes. “I miss you too. Can’t wait to see you.” he grinned at that excited for the surprise he had planned.

“I think i'm gonna go, let you guys actually comment on the show. I love you Charlie.” You sent him a kiss and he pretended to catch it with his free hand.

“Eww that's so cheesy.” Owen muttered from somewhere in the back.

“I love you too.”

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie images #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #jatp fanfic #jatp

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years

Text

Out of My League [Part 2]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.5k (ohohohoho i went OVERBOARD with the dialogue here I am sorry for all the useless exposition)

Summary: Most things have changed in the last 10 years, but it’s safe to say that a few things stayed exactly the same. Mixed POV

Warning(s): Mentions of past bullying, mentions of cheating, mentions of kidnapping, general criminal minds stuff, cursing, VERY VERY BRIEF MENTION of a miscarriage and leukemia like it’s one sentence and that’s all

Author’s Note: The moment yall have been waiting for! They grow up so fast!! I’m going on a quick trip this week and then heading back to school a few days later, so the next part may take a little longer, but I’m super excited to write it!!

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Las Vegas, Nevada, 2004

(Spencer’s POV)

My first case out on the field was not a pleasant one. Well, it rarely is, that’s what happens when you work for the FBI to catch serial killers. For the first couple of weeks at the BAU, I helped them consult on cases, but they weren’t sure I was ready to go out on the field with them. After I got my weapon certification, Gideon told me he wanted me to come along on the next case because I was familiar with the area. There had been a series of child abductions near Vegas, my hometown. I would have been much more nervous about traveling had I not been able to see my mom while I was there. I hadn’t visited her in a while and the guilt was gnawing at me.

The first day was brutal. Hotch made some of us go back to the hotel late at night, but it was hard for us to sleep. JJ hated working cases about children, so she went to have a quick drink at the hotel bar, where she promptly forgot her purse and had to call me from her room to go get it for her. I had no hope of getting any rest that night, so I figured I’d take a walk down the hall and try to clear my head.

There was no sign of the purse at first glance, no small black clutch on the bar like JJ said. But there was a woman cleaning glasses behind the counter, maybe she knew where the purse was.

As I approached the bar, the woman’s features took a familiar shape and triggered a distant memory. Seeing her face again was like coming home after a long drive without a map, squinting through the dark and hoping the headlights would get brighter when finally, you’re pulling onto a road that you know by heart.

I didn’t need to look at her nametag, I already knew who she was, but judging by her polite smile borne solely out of the courtesy required to work in the service industry, she didn’t recognize me. In her defense, I had grown about a foot and a half since the last time she saw me. And I got a freaking haircut.

“Y-Y/N?”

She looked up from her rags and scrunched up her face in confusion.

“Okay, so you definitely know me, and I am so sorry about this, but I can’t quite place it. You look so familiar, though, I just… I meet a lot of people with this job, I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.”

I grinned, she still had that same habit of apologizing every five seconds, “I don’t really have that problem, eidetic memory and all.”

Her eyes widened, “Spencer? Spencer Reid!”

I laughed and nodded.

“You’re so tall now! What has it been, like, 10 years? Oh my goodness, come here.” She awkwardly leaned over the bar and hugged me. She still used the same shampoo.

“How ya been, kid?”

“I’m good! H-How are you?”

“Doing fine, thanks. What brings you back to good ol’ Sin City?”

“I’m here for work.”

“Oh, and what are you doing now?” She leaned on the counter and gazed up with curious eyes, “Helping the doctors at Area 51?”

Good to know she still had jokes, “No actually, I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

“Woah, you’re a fed now?”

“Yeah, we’re investigating a series of--”

“Kidnappings. Yeah. Scary shit. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

“You close to catching the guy?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Any of the kids turn up?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We found one boy this morning. He… didn’t make it.”

Her face dropped to a look of worry I hadn’t seen since she took off my blindfold that day on the football field, “Name. I need a name,” her voice grew hoarse.

“I can’t really disclose that information.”

“Spencer, please. Every day my kid comes home from school and asks me if I was watching the news.”

I couldn’t deny the way my heart sank at the news, but I could sure as hell ignore it, “Y-You have kids?”

“One. Little Jamie. His best friend, Robbie, is missing.” Robbie Carter, age five, he’s been missing for the past two weeks. He’s likely dead, but we still haven’t found him.

“Every time someone misses school he gets scared they got taken too. Baby Boy doesn’t understand flu season yet.”

“How old is he?” I had to get her mind off of this. I don’t want to worry her.

“Five. Just started kindergarten. Wanna see a picture?” Seems like I succeeded.

“Sure.”

She whipped out her phone and pulled up a picture of Jamie on his first day of school, backpack far too big for his body. Y/N was posed next to him, the picture too small to show that she was crying ever so slightly.

“Adorable, right?”

I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face, “Cute kid. Looks just like you.”

She looked back at the photo and smiled softly, “Except the eyes. He’s got his dad’s eyes.”

I glanced down at her hand holding the phone and was greeted with a pleasant surprise, “I’m guessing Jamie’s dad isn’t in the picture?”

Offense flickered across her features for a second, her eyebrows twitching and lips pursing, “How’d you know?”

“No ring.”

“You do work for the FBI.”

“Would you mind telling me what happened?”

“You know, you’re supposed to be the one spilling your sorrows to the bartender, not the other way around.”

“You don’t have to tell me, just thought we could catch up, I haven’t seen you in ten years.”

She sighed, returning her phone to the front pocket in her apron, “Remember Kyle Brothers?”

“Oh, do I? Yeah, of course, I remember your high school boyfriend, Y/N. What tipped you off, the eidetic memory, or the fact he used to beat me up after gym class?” It was more like the intense rage and jealousy I had when they got back together after football season ended.

“God, see, I always knew he was an asshole, but it never seemed to faze me, I’m so sorry about that.”

“You did what you could. And you apologize too much.”

“Sor--”

She froze mid-word and made a face as she realized once again that she was about to apologize yet again. I stifled a chuckle, but she laughed and grabbed a rag from the counter to finish cleaning the glasses.

“So Kyle?”

“Yes, Kyle. We broke up again before college, I was going out of state and didn’t wanna do long distance, you know all that. I was in a really bad place during my senior year of college, so after graduation, I decided to move back home for a bit, spend some time with my mom--”

“How is she?”

“She’s great! Moved to D.C. with my dad a while back.”

“I should visit her, Quantico isn’t far.”

She returned a genuine smile, “She would love that.”

“Sorry I interrupted you, keep going.”

“You’re fine. Long story short, moving back home for a few months turned into having a one night stand with my ex. Which turned into us getting engaged nine months later while I’m exhausted and holding my son.”

“Well, that’s a fun birth story for Jamie.”

“Yeah, ‘Happy Birthday, sweetie, your father proposed to me while you were, like, an hour old and then cheated on me six months later.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.” She popped the p, “Came home and heard two things: Jamie fussing in his sleep from the playpen and bedsprings squeaking in our room.”

“I’m guessing that you guys were done for good after that?”

“Nice detective work.”

“Technically, I’m a profiler, not a detective, as they typically work in local police departments and I work for the federal government, not a precinct--”

“Jesus, kid, you’re gonna put the poor lil lady to sleep,” I turned around and saw Morgan crossing the lobby to the bar, still in his work clothes.

“If I'm yawning it’s from my double shift, not his rambling. It’s been a while since I heard a good Spencer Reid knowledge dump.”

“You two know each other?” He leaned on the bar and I could sense him turning on the classic Derek Morgan charm.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Uh, Y/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan, we work together, Morgan, this is Y/N L/N, we went to high school together.” The “I had a huge crush on her” was silent.

“Nice to meet you, doll,” he reached out a hand to shake yours. His eyes lingered on you for a bit too long, and I recognized the look in her eyes from the way she talked to Kyle in the halls before our study sessions, and I didn’t like any of that one bit.

Derek turned back to me, “JJ sent you down here a while ago, she’s looking for you.”

I glanced at Y/N and tried to hide the cocktail of emotions in my mind, “I guess I just lost track of time.”

He probably caught onto something because his regular teasing smirk flashed on across his face, “You guess, sure, loverboy, I’ll be in our room. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He left and she waved, watching him as he left.

“JJ?” She asked, turning back to me.

“Coworker of mine, she left her purse down here and sent me to get it for her.”

“Oh, Blondie from earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“She seemed nice. So pretty!” She reached below the bar and pulled out the small black purse that was left behind about an hour before, holding it up to me and cocking an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

“How long have you two been working together? Long enough to be more than coworkers?”

I laughed uncomfortably, “Uh, n-no, actually this is actually my first case on the field, before this I only really helped the team consult on cases, but this one was urgent and I wanted to visit my mom so they brought me along.”

“Well, send Diana my love.”

“Of course. And if you hear anything from Jamie about another missing kid, give us a call.” I reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, sliding it to her and leaving with a sympathetic smile, wishing I could say more.

(Reader POV)

About a week after you ran into Spencer, you were closely following the story as it unfolded on the news. Another kid had gone missing, the second in two weeks. His name was Drew Olson, he was a year older than Jamie. They didn’t find a body yet, so there was still hope. Robbie hadn’t turned up either, which was the best news you had about him. No other bodies have shown up yet, and the cause of death for the boy they found was starvation, so the guy probably didn’t want to hurt these kids.

Regardless of whether or not the situation was actually dangerous, the school still increased security, since two of the victims were students. The pickup line was heavily monitored by teachers and faculty to make sure all students went home with their parents. You had gotten there a bit later than usual, forcing you to the back of the crowd where you couldn’t see the kids as they came out of the building.

When you finally got up towards the front, there were only a handful of kids left.

And Jamie wasn’t one of them.

Panic started to twist your stomach into knots, but the rational part of your brain clawed at the inside of your skull saying he was just inside, he was waiting in a classroom, he was safe.

You pushed through to the teacher that was keeping track of names on her clipboard. She was younger, just about your age, and wore wire-framed glasses that complimented her dark braids. She gave a warm smile and asked for your child’s name.

“Brothers, Jamie Brothers.”

“Alrighty, let’s see--” she paused as her finger stopped over a name highlighted by a bright green, indicating that the child had been picked up: Jamie Brothers.

“He’s not here.”

“What? What do you mean he’s not here?” The part of your brain that said he was safe fucked right off and left you a shaking mess on the pavement. The teacher reached an arm out and held you by the elbow as your knees buckled beneath you. Other parents’ attention was suddenly directed towards you.

“Ma’am, the sheet says he was picked up already.”

“But by who? Not me! So who the hell took my son?” All eyes were on you as you didn’t even bother to control the volume of your voice.

“Mrs. Brothers, please remain calm, I’m sure there’s been a mistake, I can send someone in to find him inside the school.”

“Please…” You whimpered, unable to find your breath.

...Give us a call…

Spencer’s words echoed in your mind and you knew what you had to do, so you scrambled through your bag for the card you were given the week before. You frantically cursed under your breath as you searched for your wallet. You finally found it, taking it out with your phone so you could call the number on the card. It rang once, twice, three times before an unfamiliar voice crackled through on the other side.

“Agent Hotchner.”

“Are you with the FBI?”

“...Yes, who is this?”

“My name is Y/N L/N, Spencer Reid gave me this number if I knew anything.”

“Do you have information regarding the recent abductions?”

“My son’s been taken.” You could feel the lump in your throat nearly restricting any words from coming out.

“Hold on, ma’am, where are you?”

“I’m at the school, he’s not here. I came to get him and he’s not here, I don’t know what to do!”

“Miss L/N, stay put, we’re on our way.” The call ended with a click and suddenly the world went quiet. There was nothing but the rush of blood pounding in your ears. All you could do was stare blankly at nothing in particular as the phone fell from your hand, hitting the pavement, your knees following quickly behind. You felt the bruises on impact, but you couldn’t care less about how much pain you were in, not when you felt this numb. Your pain didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was that Jamie was missing and you were powerless to help. The remaining parents surrounded you, all clutching the shoulders of their children, their safe children, the ones they didn’t have to call the fucking FBI to pick up from school today.

When your brain was able to process information again, you noticed the school parking lot had filled with police cars, including two large black SUVs. You squinted through the inappropriately bright sunlight and the bitter tears in your eyes to see a tall man in a dark suit approach you. Behind him, a scrawny young man in a plaid buttondown was following closely.

You recognized him right away this time.

“Spencer,” your voice was barely a whisper as you attempted to stand on your shaking legs. You looked straight past the man in the suit and scrambled over to him. Before you could even reach him, his arms were stretched out to you, enveloping you in a tight hug as soon as you were close enough.

Your heart had to be beating out of your chest, and you were sure he felt it against him. The tears running down your cheeks stained his shirt, soaking him to the skin as he cradled your head against his chest, trying to do whatever he could to make you feel safe again, no matter how scared he was.

The man in the suit was now joined by an older man in a brown jacket and the man you met at the bar the other night, Derek, you think his name was. The suit turned to you and Spencer and introduced himself as Agent Hotchner, the man you spoke to on the phone. He asked you to describe what happened when you arrived, if you saw anyone who looked out of place, if you saw evidence of a struggle. Spencer’s arms never left your frame the whole time you spoke.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/N, I promise we’ll find your son, we have time on our side. Reid, stay with her in the meantime, Morgan, go question the parents, Gideon and I will talk to the monitors and see if they knew who picked Jamie was picked up by.”

“Yes, sir.”

All the men left to complete their tasks except for Spencer, who was supposed to stay put with you. The second you were alone with him once again, your face returned to the spot on his dampened shirt where it had previously been. One of his hands was planted firmly on your upper back, the other stroking your hair between his fingers.

It’s strange, really. Last time you saw him he was just a kid. A brilliant, sweet, small kid. The kid who’s hair you’d fuck with. The kid you held after his bullies hurt him. Then you don’t see him for over a decade and suddenly the roles are reversed. He was tall enough to rest his chin on your head now, which you had mixed feelings about, but you couldn’t deny it calmed you down. Almost as much as his quick yet steady heartbeat drumming right in your ear. The kid was still skinny, but his hugs were still warm.

“You’re alright, we’re gonna find him,” he whispered into your hair, but you had a feeling those words weren’t only for you. After a few minutes, the three other agents returned to where you and Spencer stood, alerting the two of you that the team would be heading back to the police station where you were welcome to wait with them. Derek figured you were too shaken to drive yourself, so he offered to let you ride along with him and Spencer in the SUV, which you did not hesitate to accept.

Once at the station, you were greeted by the blonde from the bar. What was her name again?

“Jennifer Jareau, I’m the press liaison for the team. You can call me JJ.”

She sat with you while Spencer worked with the others on the case. You wanted to be updated whenever progress was made, but she told you that wasn’t totally possible. Regardless of how against the rules it was, she still gave you the profile. The unsub likely worked with children and knew them and faculty well enough to enter the building and take the kids without being noticed. They may be a parent going through a loss, as no evidence of sexual assault or any physical violence was found on the only body save for light ligature marks on the wrists. Due to the relatively nonviolent nature of the crime, the unsub could be a woman. They likely live alone since they are keeping several young boys in their home. Although this likely wasn’t the work of a pedophile, a trafficking ring could not be ruled out yet.

You suddenly understood why the victims’ families aren’t supposed to know the profile. You thought it would make you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. JJ opened up another box of tissues for you, got you water, and offered you snacks, but there was no way you could get anything down. Every sound, every person that passed the window, every buzz of JJ’s phone sent your stomach plummeting down a death drop. You had just calmed yourself down from yet another panic attack when you saw agents strapping on kevlar vests and putting their guns into their holsters.

They knew where the kids were.

(Spencer’s POV)

I wasn’t allowed to see her before we left. I couldn’t tell her where I was going, I couldn’t tell her that Jamie would be okay, I couldn’t tell her anything. I barely spoke to her since we got back to the station, and that was hours ago. Now I-- we just have to leave her there again.

This was my first time going out on the field in this capacity. I’d never had to step out of that SUV with my gun out, ready to shoot anyone who threatened the lives of my team or any hostages they may have. I’d never had to strap on a kevlar vest and worry about the potential bruises that may be left behind by being hit with bullets. I’d never had to worry about not coming back before.

“Don’t be worried. If your hands shake you won’t get a clear shot,” Gideon reminded me in the car, as if I’d be able to get a clear shot with a steady hand anyway.

The unsub was a woman named Harriet Yanonovich. According to hospital records pulled by Garcia, our new tech analyst, her son had recently passed after a short and sudden battle against leukemia. This came shortly after Harriet had a miscarriage that triggered a chemical imbalance, degrading her mental health, which resulted in the trigger, losing her job at the elementary school that the boys had each been taken from. I would have felt bad for her if she hadn’t taken my friend’s son away from her.

But she did, and now I just have to hope she didn’t hurt him.

We arrived at Harriet’s house fairly quickly. Hotch sent Morgan and me around the back, he and Gideon would take the front. As we rounded the back of the house, we discovered that she had a storm cellar under her deck. The doors were closed with a heavy padlock. Morgan aimed his gun to shoot it off the chain.

“Don’t do that. The bullet would ricochet and hit you in the knee.”

He lowered his weapon, “You got a better idea, pretty boy?”

“Yes, actually.” I quietly crept onto the deck, lifting the welcome mat from in front of the sliding glass door into the absolute wreck of a kitchen. Under the mat was a simple looking key.

“She’s a school teacher going through a depressive episode, not a criminal mastermind.”

“Alright then, genius,” he rolled his eyes, “Let’s see if it even works.”

I inserted the key into the lock, hearing a click and turning it with little difficulty. The shackle popped open. I gently removed it from the chains, trying my hardest not to make any noise that would alarm anyone in the cellar. Unwrapping the chains from the handles, I turned back to face Morgan.

“I accept your apology.” I attempted to muster my smuggest smile, but it was hard to mask the dread and worry on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, open up.”

He grabbed one handle and I grabbed the other, sliding the metal doors open and revealing a staircase into a shadowy basement.

“You first.” Morgan nudged my shoulder.

“What? No way! Morgan, this is serious!”

“So go! It’s your girl’s kid!”

He was right. Not about Y/N being my girl, because she wasn’t (though the thought did briefly replace the anxiety in my heart with pure light that I hadn’t felt since I was twelve), but I was still doing this for her. This case wasn’t just a job for me. This was for Y/N. For Jamie. Y/N deserves to see her son again, I owe her that much.

Derek would learn about my fear of the dark much later, but from how fast I jumped down those stairs into that cellar, he’d never been able to tell.

Against the farthest wall, there were four young boys all curled up in a corner. From the limited light, I could see they were all covered in varying levels of filth, the cleanest boy baring the face I had seen on Y/N’s phone screen. The boys all looked terrified, the two dirtiest looking thin and weak against the ties that bound them to a water pipe. I called up to Morgan to come down and lowered my gun.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI, I’m here to help you guys, okay?” The boys all nodded. Morgan helped me untie their wrists.

“Do you know where Mrs. Yanonovich went?”

“She said she was going upstairs, and that we have to be good or else we wouldn’t get any supper,” Jamie piped up.

“How long you been down here, kid?” Morgan asked.

Jamie shrugged, “Couple hours.”

“Did she hurt any of you?” The kids all shook their heads no.

Hotch’s voice crackled over the radio, “We have her in custody, any sign of the kids?”

“Yep, we found them in the cellar. All are alive, but we may need a medic on standby at the station for some of them.”

“Are they hurt?”

“No, just malnourished. Definitely dehydrated.”

Morgan and I led the kids out to the surface, the setting sun creating a glare off of the tin cellar doors. We were greeted by Gideon and police rounding the corner to the backyard. The kids ran out the gate towards the police cars, eager to be home soon.

(Reader POV)

“Okay, I’ll let them know.” JJ hung up and turned back to you, a relieved smile gracing her face. You stood up, desperate to hear the news she had.

“They found the kids, Jamie’s safe.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the woman you barely knew, wrapping her in a bear hug as delighted laughs left your lungs. You felt tears of pure relief drip down your cheeks as she squeezed you back, also letting out a deep sigh.

You waited impatiently in the bullpen, anxious to see Jamie unharmed and to give the team your gratitude. When they finally arrived, you saw your son walking hand-in-hand with Spencer and the older agent you believed was named Gideon. Spencer pointed over to you with his free hand and smiled, causing Jamie to drop their hands and sprint into your arms crying “Mommy! Mommy!” You immediately lifted him up and covered his face with kisses. The two of you held onto one another so tight, you were surprised either of you could breathe. Spencer came over to you, smiling with eyes you couldn’t quite recognize.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

“No need, Y/N. I’m glad I could help. I just wish I could have met Jamie here on better terms!”

You adjusted your hold on Jaime to free one hand, stretching it out for Spencer to take it in his own. You squeezed it gently, smiling into those hazel eyes that had somehow never looked warmer before, despite the deep shadows under them.

“Thank you.”

His pursed lips twitched slightly and you noticed the tears brimming his sunken eyes. The poor boy needed sleep and a lot of it soon. He squeezed your hand back, sending shockwaves up your arms straight to your heart, which hadn’t felt this light since you were seventeen years old.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @rottenearly @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper

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starlight-writes-stuff · 3 years

Note

hey! i sent in the ask for the party fic with ethan (which was so good holy shit) and i was hoping you could do the SFW alphabet for him? can I be ⚙️ anon, as well? (get it?)

⚙️anon (thats so clever ily for it) , welcome !! im sorry this took me forever , but here’s your sfw alphabet - this came so easy to me i spend too much time consuming ethan content - anyway ! i really hope you enjoy this ((: reblogs are always appreciated <3

AYO LOOK AT THESE : soft , fluffy ethan content , no tws ! also , yall rockin with the new blog theme ⁉️

a = affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

ethan is incredibly affectionate in all senses of the word- big gestures, small moments, and everything in between. he brings you flowers or food quite often, just something small to show you that you were on his mind while he was out and about. you two would have a designated date night once a week where he’d clear his schedule to spend quality time with you; either taking you out to dinner or cooking and watching movies at home with spencer. also, ethan would definitely go out of his way to do little things around the house to help you out - washing the dishes, vacuuming, folding the laundry. however, ethan wouldn’t shy away from larger gestures of affection, either: he’d take you on surprise vacations or road trips for holidays or anniversaries.

b = best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

being ethan’s best friend would be so much fun. he’s definitely the kind of guy that would send you a text when he was 10 minutes away from your house because he was bored and wanted to go do something together. you’d never be bored around ethan- he can talk for hours, and would 100% know how to make you laugh, even if the two of you were just chilling on the couch. a friendship with ethan would be filled with adventures; concerts, midnight snack runs, campouts in the backyard and lots of fun with spencer.

c = cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

yes, 100%. thinking back to unus annus, ethan was a vvv touchy guy with mark, and i think that would only be amplified with his significant other- touch is one of his love languages, for sure. he’d be the type to always have some soft of physical connection; a hand on your thigh while he drives, mindlessly drawing patterns over your skin while your working, aways holding your hand in public type beat. if ethan wasn’t getting your attention when he wanted it he, would not hesitate to pick you up over his shoulder and carry you to the closest soft surface before plopping you down and wrapping you in his arms. i think he’s probably a fan of having you laying on your side, facing him so that he can hold you, but still see your face/ talk to you. he’d also love laying on your chest because he’s such a boob guy but that’s a conversation for another time ,,,,,

d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

i think that if you and ethan were committed and had been dating for a while than he would absolutely want to settle down- but i feel like dating ethan would also include being around each other all the time (constant sleepovers while you aren't living together) so it wouldn’t be that drastic of a change. while he was living on his own, though, ethan obviously had to take care of himself, so he taught himself to cook and clean and do general, domestic tasks. i think he’d be a really good partner when it came to things around the house like that; ethan would always do his fair share and would pick up anything that you needed him to.

e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

ethan just comes off as a very feeling, sensitive person (his brand is literally soft boy what do u expect), so i think breakups would be really hard for him. he wouldnt break up with his s/o until he was 10000000% positive that it as the right choice, and had thought through it multiple times. even then, it would rip his heart out to end things- he wouldn’t be afraid to show his emotions. ethan would definitely break up with whoever he was dating in person- he knows that he owes them that.

f = fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

okay, this one is up in the air for me. i definitely feel like ethan would settle down with his person and be completely loyal to them- thats a no brainer. i just don’t know how he feels about marriage? i feel like ethan wants a life partner, i just dont know if he would marry them. (this could 1792049384% be my personal bias peeking through because i think marriage is fkn weird, but for some reason i think he would too ????? maybe thats just me)

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

ethan is just ,,,,, soft hearted, dude. he’s just gentle in general. i think emotionally he’s a total teddybear, and he feels all his emotions incredibly deep- he rules with his heart, for sure. he wants to make sure that everyone around him is happy, and if they arent, it would affect him more than he’d like to admit. physically, ethan can vary- like i said, he’s always touching you in some way, but i think he’d be down for getting a little rougher in bed when you guys want to.

h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

ethan is an envelope-the-whole-ass-person kinda hugger, hug-with-your-whole-body type deal. if you look at pictures from unus annus, even old old pictures from the tour he did w/ mark, ethan is always completely wrapped around someone, hugging them with everything in him. i think if his s/o was shorter, he’d love to stack his head on top of theirs, and if y’all were around the same height, he’d bury his face in your neck. he’s very huggy- when you’re out and about, he’s always hugging you from behind, pulling your body closer to his. i also think ethan would love koala hugs, where he was sitting and his s/o wraps their arms and legs around him- he’d sit like that forever, rubbing up and down your back.

i = i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

hhhhhhhhhh don't clock me for this one, yall- if ethan was feeling some type of way, he would tell you. i don't think the length of the relationship would matter as much to him as the intensity and depth of his feelings; if ethan really truly loved you and wanted to say it, he would. he’d definitely preface it with the fact that you didn’t have to say it back, that he just wanted to get it on the table and out of his head.

j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

ethan would be very secure in his relationships, and i think it would take a lot to get him jealous. however, when he was,,,,,,,, it wouldnt be pretty. like, at all. if it was a situation where someone was hitting on his s/o, he wouldn’t step in until you’d already tried to get them to leave you alone- not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew that if he did, it would get ugly. when he did step in, he’d start by saying something (not kindly worded, but to the point), and if that didn’t work i don’t think ethan would be above getting physical- he’s extremely protective of you.

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

I THINK ABOUT THIS A LOT AND I HAVE SO MANY THINGS I'D LIKE TO SAY SO THIS ONE’S GOIN IN BULLET POINTS , GANG

okay- ethan loves to kiss you. he just loves kisses- they feel so personal and intimate to him, and he kisses you all the time, everywhere

he’ll dip you and kiss you in the middle of the grocery store aisles, he dgaf

but i think his favorite spots for kissing you would be your forehead, your lips (duh), collarbones/shoulders, down your spine and on your inner thighs hngggggg

but it goes vice versa too

ethan wants ALL your kisses . all of them , everywhere

He’s such a sucker for you kissing his neck and you cant talk me out of that (:

l = little ones (how are they around children?)

cute. literally so cute. i think that ethan would love other people’s kids, but definitely doesn’t want any of his own- at least, not right now. however, with other people’s babies he is S O F T; he loves to hold them, and would absolutely offer to try and calm a crying baby down, rocking them and singing soft lullabies to calm their woes. i also think that he would LOVE toddler aged kiddos- like 3-6. he’d be cool uncle ethan, playing catch with them, taking them to the park, finding games to play and always letting them win. he’d totally try to teach them how to ride their bike, or how to do a cartwheel, or how to jump off the swings for maximum height. ethan would totally bring them a fun lunch at school or sneak the kid’s favorite candy over to them and eat it together in a secret spot.

m = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

mornings with ethan would be slow and lazy and filled with golden light filtering in through the blinds. if he woke up first, ethan would be as soft as humanly possible in order not to wake you up & would sneak downstairs to make coffee and start breakfast for the two of you, sometimes bringing it up to surprise you with breakfast in bed. the two of you would spend an hour (at minimum) in bed together, waking up and peppering each other with soft pecks all over. i think ethan would be extra soft™ in the mornings- he’d be super cuddly and affectionate.

n = night (how are nights spent with them?)

nights spent with ethan would always hold a sort of unexplainable magic- there’s something about the thought of falling asleep next to him thats just so… comforting? he’d be so warm and easy to fall asleep with, all soft and hazy and gentle; he’d fall asleep holding you as big spoon, but when y’all woke up he’d be wrapped in your arms, laying on your chest. also, if you were having a hard time falling asleep, ethan would stay up with you, talking through whatever was on your mind even if he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

i think that ethan would open up more and more as the relationship progresses, going along with the natural advancement of things unless something happened that made it crucial for him to open up; if that did happen, though, you wouldn’t have to pry anything out of him. ethan is a pretty honest, open person and wants to be transparent with you always- trust is something that he values above all else and he wants to remain very truthful with you.

p = patience (how easily angered are they?)

ethan is incredibly patient and understanding- it would take a lot to truly upset him. sure, the two of you would get into little tiffs here and there about stupid things, but the small arguments would be resolved within the hour with lots of hugs and kisses and soft “im sorry”s. however, if yall managed to get into a big argument, i think it would take ethan a bit to calm down and he would want to put some space between you two while he did- not to anger you any further, but to make sure that he didn’t say anything he didn't mean. ethan has a bit of a temper while he’s angry, and he wouldn’t want to say anything just to hurt you out of anger. after he cooled off he would come back and be willing to re-examine whatever had caused the issue with fresh eyes.

q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

if you’ve watched ethan ever, you know that the sweet bby doesn’t remember shit (cue the instagram live thats purpose was to help him remember a word)- but listen. i think that ethan would go out of his way to hold on to little pieces of information about his s/o, and would put so much effort into trying to remember little details. he’d store them in his brain (things like your favorite flower, the brand of chocolate you like best, etc) and reference them when he needed.

r = remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

a couple moments would stick out to ethan - when y’all first met being his favorite. he’d remember every detail of the moment he was first introduced to you; what you were wearing, where you were, what y’all had been doing that night. it was something that he though about a lot, actually- he loved to reflect on the way you’d blushed as he’d introduced himself, how you’d hugged him at the end of the night.

s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

ethan isn't possessive, but he is incredibly protective of you. he secretly hates whenever someone flirts with you, even if it’s strictly platonic- you're his s/o, and he doesn't want anyone thinking any different. like i said earlier (reference letter j), ethan wouldn’t be afraid to step in and put someone in their place of they were getting a little too friendly. he likes when you’re protective of him as well, even if its something very subtle to show that he’s spoken for, such as calling him a nickname or dropping a kiss on his cheek.

t = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

romantic ethan my belOVED- he would try so hard. ethan would plan surprises for you for weeks before they would unfold, even roping your family and friends into his schemes. He’d be so creative with date ideas too; picnics, art classes, different seasonal excursions around california. For bigger occasions like anniversaries, holidays, birthdays and all that, ethan wouldn’t hesitate to go bigger- i definitely think he would take you traveling. he wants to see the world with his love :,)

u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

ethan bites his nails, which is why he’d had you paint them- he’s trying to break the habit

he’s a very sweary human, but so are you; the only issue is he has no filter and accidentally swears in front of kids all the time lmao

v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

eh. ethan is more particular about certain aspects of his appearance over others, but he’s generally well put together. he likes for his hair to look good, though- that’s the one thing that he’s picky about.

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

ethan is his own person and is able to function on his own, but the two of you have developed a sense of codependency with each other, like any couple does. he can’t see his life without you at all anymore, and would much rather have you around than not. the two of you have fallen into a flow together- you and him against the world. life is much easier when you have another person on your team, and he’s honored that he gets to play that role for you.

x = xtra (a random headcanon for them.)

(this may or may not be a lil hint to a fic i'm working on shshhshshhhhhhhh)

on the night unus annus ended, ethan was a wreck - rightfully so

he had a bit of an existential crisis , and started to spiral a bit

you were worried about him , and knew that he would just continue to get into his own head

so you got him out of bed

and took him on a v special date

thats all for now ;)

y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

ethan wouldn't like smoking (nicotine), and if that was a habit that you were willing to budge on, he would really try to help you break it.

overall, ethan is a very considerate and kind person, so someone that was rude or had a sense of entitlement just wouldn’t fit well with him.

z = zzz (what is a sleep habits of theirs?)

ethan can’t fall asleep without background noise. his brain gets too loud when he’s just in bed in complete silence, for better or for worse; sometimes this leads to great video ideas or new concepts for the channel, but other times it just lead to him overthinking his life. when it was that kind of night, ethan would fall asleep to soft music or one of those white noise apps- then he became dependent on it to be able to fall asleep. something about filler noise managed to calm him right down and lull him to sleep, and he pays $5 a month for the premium version of his favorite white noise app.

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meltwonu · 4 years

Text

| good in bed | [chapter 1]

pairing; non-idol!chan x reader

this chapter’s notes; HELLO HELLO!! Gettin this ball rollin with the first chapter of good in bed!!!😚💕 Thank u for the interest in this fwb au with chan~ he needs more love yall hehe kind of an introductory chapter but fingering, (barely a) handjob and minor exhibitionism eheheh love u!!!💕💕💕💕

chapters; 1 - x - x - x

“So, how was your date with Jun-hyung?”

Chan toes his shoes off at the door, arms full of groceries and snacks for your weekly movie night at your apartment. You set your own bags down on the countertop before sighing and wiping the sweat from your brow. “It was okay. He kept asking me if I wanted to see videos of his hot dog roller and I couldn’t tell if that was sexual or if he really had a hot dog roller?” Chan laughs to tears, barely setting his bags down on the dining table before collapsing to the floor.

“Fuck, please tell me you’re kidding?” You shake your head ‘no’ at him, placing the various groceries in their places in the kitchen before grabbing the box of popcorn to make.

“I wish I was. He asked me if I wanted to go on a second date so he could show it to me in person.”

“Did you say yes?”

You shoot Chan an incredulous look, placing the bag of popcorn in the microwave and pressing start. “Uh, no?” He gets up from the floor, wiping the stray tears from his eyes before grabbing some of the other snacks and taking them to the living room to set up the space for your movie night.

“You should’ve. Maybe he would’ve shown you his massive dick and you missed out.”

You’re 3 movies in, 2 bags of popcorn cooked and Chan is already nodding off at 9PM.

“Chan, you ok over there?” He hums, sitting up on the sofa as he yawns. “Yeah, sorry, Soonyoung-hyung is really grilling us for the dance competition and we’re in the practice room a lot longer than usual. I’m beat. He could rip my legs off and I wouldn’t even feel it.” You look over to him rubbing his eyes, trying to wipe the sleepiness out of them as he reaches for the bucket of popcorn in between the two of you. “You should’ve just stayed home and rested, you didn’t need to come over for movie night if you’re this tired...” Frowning, you reach over, smoothing his mussed hair as he whines.

“I’m not a baby! And anyway, we’ve never missed movie night! Remember the time we got food poisoning from Jihoon-hyung’s cooking? We still had movie night, just with barf buckets.”

Laughing at the memory, you get up from your spot on the sofa, grabbing more drinks from the kitchen before settling back into your spot on the couch.

“True, I don’t know what we’d do without our movie nights.” Chan’s eyes flit to your form next to him, fingers in the bowl of popcorn. “I dunno, probably getting laid?” You choke on a sip of soda, the carbonated beverage getting onto your shirt. “What!?”

“What? Am I wrong? I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about any of your dates getting any further than the first date lately. And you’ve gone on a lot of them recently.”

The blush that coats your features is burning hot as you set your drink down onto the coffee table. You and Chan had talked about your dates and love lives before, but something about how blunt he’d just been surprised you. “Yeah, well, I dunno. I’m just not getting the right vibes, y’know? I know you’re friends with some of the people I’ve dated but just… I dunno. Maybe my chakras aren’t aligned or whatever.” He rolls his eyes at you jokingly, tired eyes back to the forgotten movie on screen.

“What if we just… I dunno, fucked?”

You can feel your pupils shaking as you stare holes into the side of Chan’s head. “Excuse me, what?”

He clears his throat, reaching for his glass of water on the side table before taking a sip and setting it back down. “I mean, you haven’t been getting any and I haven’t been getting any… We should maybe try it out?”

“You make it sound like we’re just trying kombucha for the first time! How are you so calm about this?!”

Chan laughs as he glances at you, noticing the blush covering your cheeks. “Because… Well, I don’t know. I guess cause we’re best friends? I trust you out of all people, you know? I know you won’t bite my dick off?” You bite the inside of your cheek; in all honesty, you had a huge crush on Chan for a while and the only reason you’d been going on so many dates lately was because you were trying to forget about your crush on Chan.

“Chan… I don’t know, this seems complicated?”

“You said you weren’t getting laid so…”

“Yeah, Chan, I said that but I dunno about this…” He cracks a smile, hand in the bucket of popcorn next to you. “You also said you didn’t want random hook-ups either, not after Seungkwan tried to finger you in that Ferris wheel two weeks ago.” You grimace at the memory; you were 3 seconds away from getting the good ‘ol police escort out of the theme park.

“I did say that…”

“Well? I’m not random, I’m your best friend! And anyway, Soonyoung’s been so far up my ass with practice for the dance competition at the end of the year so I haven’t been getting any either. It’d work out for both of us?” Chan crams a fist full of popcorn into his mouth, eyes never leaving the tv screen. You contemplate his words for a minute; Chan was insanely handsome and if you were being completely honest, you’d had a crush on him for a while now which is why you weren’t sure this was the right route.

“Chan, I don’t know…”

“Okay, well, just think about it? I’m always here for you. Even if you want to tie me up to the bedpost.”

You nod, a quiet ‘okay’ leaving your lips before you turn to the tv yourself.

“Let’s finish this movie because Sonic the Hedgehog is next on our list and I wanna see it already.”

When Chan leaves your apartment at midnight, he hugs you goodbye, reminding you to think about his proposition. You nod, a tight lipped smile on your face when you shut the door.

You tidy up your place slowly, the thoughts of Chan swimming in your head the entire time it takes for you to clean up and get ready for bed. There was really nothing wrong with his suggestion; you just weren’t sure if it’d make or break your friendship with him. It was fine that you kept your crush on him to yourself, but you knew that adding any sort of physical relationship would make it hard for you to not fall for him even harder. On the flipside, you’d finally be able to fuck your crush without him noticing anything, probably.

Groaning, you reach for your phone, scrolling through various apps before sighing again. Was it worth all the risk?

Screw it, you think, if it destroys our friendship at least we went out with a bang.

You realize when you ring the doorbell to Jeonghan’s apartment that only an actual psycho throws a party on a Tuesday night. I guess that’d be Jeonghan. He opens the door and lets you in, a drunken flush already evident on his skin as he thrusts a cup into your hand.

“There’s more drinks in the kitchen, Minghao’s the bartender tonight!!” You grimace as you smell the contents of the cup, taking a sip before you walk further into the apartment. Noticing a few of your one time dates, you awkwardly wave at them before making a beeline for the kitchen in order to avoid conversation.

“Hey! There you are, come have a drink!��

To your slight surprise, Chan’s already there, arm outstretched with a shot in hand. You had barely talked to him all weekend, giving him and yourself some time to think about the decision you’d both made. Although he had texted you once at 3am asking you a list of your top ten things you wanted to try out in the bedroom; to which you had taken at least 3 hours to come up with before sending the text and throwing your phone at your bed as the sun began to rise into the sky.

Taking the shot out of his hand, you down it, setting the cup back onto the countertop. “When did you get here, Chan?” He downs his own before wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you closer towards him.

“Not too long ago, but Jeonghan’s been really shoving the alcohol down our throats tonight so it feels like it’s been hours.” He finishes with a laugh, fingertips digging into your clothed waist. “Been thinkin’ about you though, y’kno?”

“O-oh, really?”

“Mmhmm. Y’kno that fourth thing on your list that you sent me… I was waiting for you to show up cause I think we can try it out if you’re interested. I’m not gonna lie, I was getting a ‘lil ahead of myself and thinkin’ about all the things I wanted to do to you if you’d let me. Wanna get started?” You blush, almost crushing the cup in your hand when you remember what the fourth item on your list was.

Exhibitionism.

“I, um, o--okay, yeah let’s---let’s do it.”

When Chan pushes you into the storage closet of Jeonghan’s apartment, you can’t help but be a little confused, almost tripping over a misplaced wrench before plastering yourself against the wall.

“No offense Chan, but a storage closet?” He turns the flashlight on from his phone, searching for a light inside of the tiny room only to not find one before turning the flashlight off. “Aww, baby wants to fuck on a bed?” His voice is teasing, a stupidly handsome smirk visible on his face once your eyes adjust to the dark.

“Normally yes?”

“Well, too bad. The only bed in this place is Jeonghan’s and I know he’d make my life hell if I fucked you on it. Anyway, I… I wanna take it a ‘lil slow with you so we’ll start off with some basic shit, okay?” You roll your eyes, although you can’t deny the heat pooling in your lower abdomen. “I don’t know how basic this’ll be but … okay.”

Chan places his hands on your waist, pulling you towards him so that you can feel his hardness already straining in his jeans. “I’m not gonna lie, I was a little shocked when you sent that list of yours… But if I’m being honest, a lot of it is stuff I wanted to try too, so I guess it works out for us, huh?” He grinds into you, a small moan on his lips when he slots a leg in between yours. “Did you think about me at all?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Good. Can I kiss you?”

“Yes… please.” You’re nervous and about to change your entire relationship with Chan but the excitement overpowers all of your other emotions when he leans in, his lips on yours for the first time ever. He tastes like vodka and citrus when he dips his tongue into your mouth; your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer.

His hips work against yours as the two of you grind against each other in the tiny space. Chan’s lips part from yours, trailing down your neck in soft movements. “Can I leave marks?” You nod your head furiously, moaning loudly at his lips sucking love bites onto your skin. “I’m surprised you asked. Don’t you want them to know what we’re doing in here?” Chan smirks against your skin, hands moving from your waist to the button on your jeans.

“Mmm, don’t we both?” Chan pops the button of your jeans, working the zipper down before he plays with the hem of your panties between his fingertips. “I want to make sure you want this before I start. I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you, Chan.”

You don’t know how long has passed since Chan’s fingers spread your pussy open, the sound of your wetness bouncing off of the tiny room’s walls. “Ugh, Chan, p-please, another finger? I need more!” The music playing outside in the living room is loud and you hope somewhat that your voice is muffled when you cry out. Chan obliges, adding a third finger as you grind down onto his digits.

“Aww, baby, I’ve been doing all the work. Won’t you give me a ‘lil something too?”

You tug him in for another kiss, trailing a hand down his torso before you’re undoing his jeans, pushing his underwear down to wrap a hand around his cock. Precum leaks from the tip as Chan moans against your lips, thrusting his hips up into your closed hand as you squeeze your hand around him.

“Bet you wish it was my pussy instead, huh?”

You bite his lower lip before pulling away, “Too bad you didn’t just fuck me on Jeonghan’s bed but oh well~” Chan growls, thrusting his fingers into you particularly hard before his thumb starts to circle your clit.

“Don’t get cocky with me now, babe. Being a brat was only 8th on your list and I don’t think you want me to get mean with you just yet.”You grip on his cock loosens as you feel your orgasm building, moans freely spilling from your lips.

“Hey do you hear that?”

A muffled voice on the other side of the closet door has you pausing for a second, pussy clenching around Chan’s fingers. He smirks in the darkness, rubbing quicker circles on your clit. “C’mon, baby, cum for me, let them hear how pretty you sound when I’m making you cum.”

“Fuck, what the hell are you two doing in my closet!?”

Chan laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Cum, now.”

All you can hear is the sound of your heart thrumming in your chest and Chan’s breathy moans as Jeonghan’s voice gets drowned out in the background when you cum. You’re sure nothing coherent is leaving your lips when Chan’s fingers continue to work you through it.

“Get the fuck out of my closet you nasty asses!”

“Ok but they sound good, ya’ll got an onlyfans or what?”

“Oof, is this why there was no second date?”

When Chan pulls his fingers out of your pussy is when you start to remember when you are, fingers still loosely wrapped around his cock when he licks his fingers clean. You run your hand up and down his shaft; hand coated in a sticky substance.

“Damn baby, even with the zero energy handjob I still came, guess you’re that powerful huh? Wonder what that pussy will do to me when we finally get to it.”

“Bitch, I will fucking kill you before you get to it, now get out of my closet!”

#dino smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #dino scenarios #dino imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #lee chan #dino #lee chan smut #gib!chan

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barnesbabee · 4 years

Text

Impatient - Choi San x Reader

Summary: Sum dancing with teasing and a very dominant boyfriend, and you’ll get... punishment.

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Words: some

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

⚠ voyerism, spanking, teasing, punishment, hair pulling, scratching, voyerism ⚠

A/N: Yall love requesting San. Enjoy xx💖

REQUESTS SUPER OPEN

San watched as every student exited the building. He had arrived early, and decided to wait in the car. He waited, and waited, and it seemed as if every student, teacher, and staff member from the school had left the building, except for his girlfriend. He waited a bit more, but eventually became worried about your whereabouts.

San exited the car and entered the building. As soon as he stepped in, he could hear "Candy Shop" blasting in a room nearby. He followed the sound and was surprised to find you dancing to it like you hadn't spent a whole day in that school. The way you moved intensely to the song amused him, so he just leaned against the doorframe and watched you carefully.

He tried to not interrupt you or distract you, but it was insanely hard for him not to step in, push you against the mirror, and take you right there and then. Your hips swayed in the most sensual way along to the song and the sight of your ass jiggling combined with your harsh body movements created the perfect sight for his eyes, and it took everything in San's body to not grab you by the waist and make you dance like that for him, and him only.

It became a little too much when you played with the hem of your shirt and pulled it up teasingly, exposing your stomach. San groaned and approached you. You squealed and jumped back when you saw a man walking towards you, but soon calmed down when you recognized his face.

San's hands grabbed your hips and pulled you close, while he inspected your body suggestively.

"You idiot, I almost had a heart attack..." You told him and slapped his chest.

"Hm, so did I... Watching my girl dance like this. You'll be the death of me, you know?"

San bit his lip and one oh his hands traveled to your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

"San..." You breathed out when his lips wandered on your neck, leaving little love bites.

The hand on your ass squeezed it once more, harsher this time.

"I could just fuck you against this mirror, you know?" He growled against your neck.

You moaned and your hands traveled up his arms to give his biceps a light squeeze. A wave of thrill and excitement took over your body at the feeling of being touched by your boyfriend in such an intimate way while in a public place.

"The teachers are still here San!" You whisper-yelled.

San bit his lip and looked at the door and then back at you. He gave your ass one last squeeze and grabbed your wrist.

The man dragged you out of the door and you were a little surprised at his hurriedness, but after catching a glimpse of the tent in his jeans (that was already surprisingly big) it was clear to you.

The ride home was chaotic, to say the least. His hands were all over you, gripping your thighs, rubbing your already wet pussy through your shorts, spanking you...

"You're impatient today, baby." You told San, as your hand caressed his that was placed on your thigh, earning a small chuckle as a response.

The car came to a halt and you looked at the road, confused.

Traffic.

San was visibly upset that he'd have to wait a couple more minutes to have you beg for him, and so you decided to make the waiting worth the while. You pressed your palm against the hard-on on his jeans and kissed the spot under his jaw.

"Y/N..." He moaned, tilting his head so you could have all of the access you wanted.

Your hand fondled with the buttons of his jeans, purposely having a hard time taking his clothes off to tease your boyfriend. Your tongue grazed over a spot on his neck and sucked on it, earning a deep moan from San.

The man grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at his dark eyes.

"For fuck's sake Y/N, if you don't stop teasing me and get my cock in your mouth right fucking now I'm going to pound you so hard when we get home we won't be able to walk."

You bit your lip, pulled away, and looked at the road, deliberately ignoring his threats.

"Look," You said and pointed at the car-clear pathway in front of you "no more traffic."

You loved to see the famine and desperation in San's eyes when he dominated you, and every chance you got you would disobey him so he'd have a reason to fuck you the way you knew he liked.

San looked at the road and floored the car. The trip that would usually be around fifteen minutes, was seven, as he just couldn't wait to push you to the edge.

As soon as the engine stopped and stepped out of the car you stopped being Y/N, and started being San's property.

He swung you over his shoulder and carried you inside that way, only setting you down when you arrived in his bedroom.

San threw you on top of the bed and stripped himself completely before attacking your lips with a rough kiss. His tongue left no corner of your mouth unexplored, and he didn't give you a chance to fight for dominance, establishing from the first moment that he was in charge.

His hand found the inside of your underwear quickly and he pressed two fingers against your clit. He drew random shapes in your sensitive spot as he took your bottom lip in between his teeth, giving it small bites.

You moaned right into his ear, and he rewarded your pretty noise by inserting two digits in you, pumping them along to a steady rhythm.

Suddenly, San pulled away from you completely. He slapped the side of your thigh harshly and examined your body, all spread out for him.

"Undress for me princess."

You got off from the bed and peeled off your very little pieces of clothing as slowly and sensually as possible, putting on a show for your boyfriend to see.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock and started jerking himself off to your body's movements. The way you bent down, exposing your ass and naked core and spread your legs slightly for him to get a better view almost made him cum on the spot.

San stood up and grabbed your waist, rubbing his hard-on against your ass. His hands added some pressure on your skin and his teeth nibbled on the skin of your neck.

"Are you trying to tease me again, princess?"

You hummed in reply, as San's fingers teased your clit once more.

"That's two times already today, baby, maybe I shouldn't let you cum."

Your knees almost gave in at those filthy words, and you moaned.

"No... Please San let me cum!" You begged.

San smiled mischievously, that was his fuel. Hearing you beg, needy and horny was what he loved to hear the most at night.

San sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap, each of your legs beside his hips. Your lips attached to his in a loving kiss for a second, as your wet cunt ground on San's cock.

Your boyfriend groaned onto the kiss and grabbed your hips, so you'd stay steady. He lifted your body and aligned his dick with your entrance, allowing you to lower yourself down.

That's just about as far as your freedom would go, however. From then on, San grabbed your waist and moved them to his own pace. He would often jerk his hips up, meeting the rhythm and hitting deeper spots in you.

San grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, gaining access to your neck. He nibbled and sucked on several spots, so people would know who owned you. You hissed at the feeling of his teeth being rough on your skin, you loved it.

"Such a brat. Do you think you should come, my princess?" He asked, condescendingly.

"Yes, yes please..." You begged pathetically, nodding your head furiously.

San spanked your ass violently three times.

"Beg me the proper way." He demanded.

"Please San, I want to cum while you fuck me..."

Deciding that the pleas were enough, San sped up the pace. Unable to handle such force, you threw your arms around San's waist and buried your face in the crook of his neck, enabling him to fuck you whatever way he wanted.

Your fingernails dipped into San's skin and roamed around his back as the feeling of your orgasm came closer, certainly leaving scratch marks for the next day.

You moaned and bit down on his neck as you came hard, after one last span from San sent you over the edge.

Your boyfriend's pace increased for a second, before becoming more sloppy until he eventually slammed your body down on him, encircled your body tightly with his arms and groaned onto your chest. You felt his warm liquid fill you up, and so you kissed his temple.

San laid you on the bed next to him and brushed some messy strands of hair out of your face.

"You're not going to dance that for more people... Are you?"

#choi #choi san #san #ateez #kpop #ateez san #ateez choi san #ateez san smut #san smut #ateez smut #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #ateez scenarios #san scenario #san smut scenario #choi san smut

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castieltrash1 · 5 years

Text

imagine → reuniting with lindir

requested by/for: @amelialistree! i changed a few VERY minor details but i hope this is what you were looking for!! tysm for sending in my baby boo!! xx

Considering none other than Thorin Oakenshield was leading the company you currently belonged to – you knew better than to bring up your past regarding the Race of Elves in his presence. Besides a few comments on Erebor or Hobbiton, the others had provided little information about their past and focused most of their attention on the reclamation of the Lonely Mountain – so revealing your previous accomplices seemed needless.

Of course, that was until Gandalf led the company to Rivendell, and you realized quickly that your secrecy would be unveiled. In fact, your worries pressured you enough to join Thorin’s complaining in regards to the enemy, as he referred to them. The word was harsh, yes, but if agreeing with Thorin was going to keep you in the company, then enemies the Elves would be. The company’s travel thus far had been exhilarating. You’d slain Orcs, turned Trolls to stone, and even met another one of the six Wizards. Never in your life had you imagined adventure as grand, and you knew there was much more to come – including defeating Smaug himself. You couldn’t lose an opportunity like this, which meant you couldn’t risk Thorin knowing of your past alliances.

However, you had no escape as Gandalf led the company down to Rivendell. Dwarves and Hobbit alike stared at Imladris in awe, taking in the beautiful valley, but you were too plagued with concerns to pay attention to the place you once found solace in. The only thing – or person – on your mind was one Elf you hoped, prayed the company would not encounter. He would surely reveal your identity, and you would too, as you knew you would be unable to avoid showing your care for him. The other elves you could brush off, and you doubted too many remembered you well, but if he saw you, it was all over.

All you could do was hope he was away in his books or the garden, per usual.

But, when he descended the stairs to greet the company, you were stuck in place. He’d not aged a day, of course, but he’d certainly grown into himself since you’d last seen him – when he was barely reaching his ‘adulthood’ years, despite him being much older than yourself. Purples and browns contrasted against his pale skin, the circlet atop his head perfectly framing his slender face. He noticed Gandalf first – being the slightly taller outlier amongst the dwarves in front – and smiled.

“Mithrandir.” Oh, his voice has certainly changed too and the mature, deeper tone sent chills down your back. Gandalf turned and returned the greeting, placing his hand against his heart before leading his arm outward. Beside you, the dwarves mumbled amongst themselves in Khuzdul, and your hand clenched at your side.

You knew you didn’t stand a chance. What you felt for Lindir was going to be obvious very quickly, and you’d lose the company in a heartbeat. But, it seemed a cheap price to pay when you considered that badmouthing Lindir was the only alternative.

“We heard you had crossed into the Valley,” Lindir commented, and let his eyes drag across the rest of the company. When his gaze landed on you, he froze, jaw tensing. Only when Gandalf mentioned Elrond, did he snap out of his daze.

“My Lord Elrond is not here,” he answered, effortlessly switching into English from his previous Sindarin. It was almost like your presence had zero effect on him, and Gandalf didn’t seem to notice much as he continued on the conversation.

Within seconds, the Elves in question arrived, and one of the dwarves pulled you into their close formation, as horses surrounded you all. But, even amidst the sudden chaos, you managed a glance at Lindir whose dark eyes burned holes into the arm around your waist.

You had no idea what he was thinking and it took a while to get a moment alone with him, as you were always surrounded by a dwarf or guard elf at one point or another. It wasn’t until food was being served, and the company took their places at the table, were you able to sneak away. Lindir had been standing by Elrond with a questionable look on his face, but when you excused yourself from the table during Bofur’s loud singing, you didn’t see him. The guards stared at you oddly as you walked a bit, but paid you no attention otherwise.

“I cannot help but feel you’re looking for me.” You jumped at the sudden voice and turned quickly, pressing your palm against your pounding chest.

“Lindir!” Without thinking, you pulled him into a hug, letting out a deep sigh. He tensed and his arms stayed by his sides for a moment’s pause, before he lifted one hand to pat your back. It seemed forced at first, but soon he was rubbing your lower back, and pulling you closer with his other arm.

When you pulled away – too aware of the curious dwarf gazes at the back of your head – you stayed in his personal space regardless, a grin on your face.

“I’ve missed you, mellon.”

He sent you a sad smile. “I’ve missed you as well, Y/N.”

He had known better than to get attached to you when you showed up in Rivendell. You had quite a reputation for adventuring and his timid self had initially been intimidated. However, he soon realized that you were more like him than expected and that your wanderlust desires were only a small part of your character. Lindir used that to his advantage while you stayed in the Valley, showing you all the hidden parts, gardens, rooms, and secrets of Rivendell. He watched the way your eyes sparkled, and knew you would never truly be content in one place for too long – but his heart was already dedicated to you. Little did he know, you felt the same way.

Yes, you had left Rivendell, but you never expected to be gone forever. A part of you would always remain there. But your connection with Lindir had made returning so difficult. Without the company’s mission, you were unsure you would have ever worked up enough courage to go back, let alone to throw yourself into Lindir’s arms so easily.

But the sweet moment was cut off as the dwarves grew rowdier, food being thrown between them and cackles resounding through the otherwise quiet eating area. You flinched within Lindir’s hold as you remembered exactly who you were being accompanied by, and the Elf seemed to think the same as he fought to hide a scowl.

“I see you’ve been busy,” he commented and pulled away from you. “With dwarves, no less.” Lindir couldn’t hide the bitterness in his tone if he tried.

You cleared your throat. “They’re not the worst company. But, as long as adventure is involved, I rarely complain, right? We used to be like that, you know.” You laughed awkwardly, but Lindir’s forlorn expression remained.

“I believe that was quite different.” His eyebrows furrowed together. “In fact, I cannot say I approve of this adventure, nor do I believe Lord Elrond would.”

“I’m not asking you to,” you retorted, then softened your voice. “I know you’ve never been fond of these types of things, but I’m going on this trip. I’m sorry.”

Lindir just nodded, and swallowed the concoction of emotions bubbling in his throat. He seemed slightly hurt, but you knew he’d been expecting that type of answer. He always had.

You took a deep breath. You didn’t want to leave him again so suddenly, but you knew you wouldn’t be staying in Rivendell either. So, you needed to leave him something. Some hope. Some reassurance.

Without a second thought, you brought your hand to his face, cupping his jaw. “Lindir, look at me.” His dark eyes obeyed immediately, and had he not always been so composed, you would have bet he was tearing up.

Your thumb brushed over his high cheekbone, and he nuzzled into your touch. The action was so small you almost missed it. But, it gave you the courage you needed.

You pressed yourself up and allowed your lips to meet his. It was the moment you’d both waited years for, and immediately both of your forms relaxed into each other’s hold. Lindir let out a soft sigh before he was kissing you again, his own hand making its way to your cheek.

“Lindir, do you trust me?” you murmured against his mouth.

Lindir swallowed heavily, but stayed rooted in place, warm breath hitting your lips. “With my life.”

You smiled softly against him. “Then trust me when I say, I will be back soon. I promise.”

a/n: yall this fic was some STR8 elf propaganda. im an elf-fucker tho what can i sAY. im sorry. not really. i’d like to (redacted). anyway. enjoy !! xx

#lindir imagine #lindir x reader #lindir fluff #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fluff #the hobbit #lindir #lindir drabble #lindir x reader fluff #lindir x reader imagine #tolkien #tolkien imagine #tolkien drabble #tolkien fluff #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings fluff #lord of the rings drabble #t: writing

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iamtheempress · 4 years

Text

A Vegeta x OC Fanfiction (part 4) ¤ ¤ ¤

Calamatta managed to roll out of bed and redress herself. Pulling on the suit and grabbing a spare to bring with her on her trip to To-Rot. Leaving her room she met with Nappa. "There she is!" He chugged a caffeinated hot beverage down like it was nothing, Raditz stood beside him counting his wad of cash and stuffing it in his armor.

"Pay looks nice." She yawns and stretches making her cute tail curl and back arch abit. "37,000. Not bad but could be better. Vegeta got the most of it." Nappa nods and pushes the yawning female saiyan a mug of the hot beverage. "Thanks...gonna need it." "Damn right you are! Vegeta is still sleeping. Weird he said he was gonna get up before us.. eh whatever. Lets get your pod and stuff ready then well worry bout him." Nappa said as Calamatta shined off the mug and pushed it away.

Upon going to the pod, her coordinates were set and everything was packed into there Raditz, who was standing besides her piped up, leaning against the pod with his massive arms crossed. "Dont take this the wrong way Calamatta but… why are you so…" he moves his hands in an hour glass shape and tilts his head. Calamatta went wide eyed and fixed her suit where her ass is.

"If thats how you flirt with women that was a strike out, good lord! And I have know idea why! Its just my body shape idiot…" she comments hearing Nappa wheeze as he fixes some wires within the pod, followed by him clanging his head leaving. "Im not! I d-dont flirt its just that… well… shes got… n-nice legs and … a great fa-" Calamatta thwipped her tail like a nervous cat. The bay door slid open and Raditz's poor excuse for flirtation was stopped DEAD in its tracks. "Stop harassing Calamatta on her body type Raditz, Saiyan women were given bodys to kill, shes built like a fine tuned weapon whether you see it or not." Vegeta points up at Raditz who scowled with a full face of blush. "Oh so you look at her too Vegeta?" Calamatta slaps her forehead and raises her voice flicking Raditz in the forehead for his really stupid comment. "Can yall stop talking about me like im not fuckin here??" She snapped annoyed and heard Nappa close up the oxygen port.

"Ready boss?" She asked Vegeta, who nodded and got into his respective pod and punched in the coordinates manually. "Later guys!" She got in and Raditz and Nappa left the pod evac room.

Vegeta's voice sparked to life on her scouter. "Theres a hidden base by the most recent Frieza Force there.. we should make it there in an hour so that will be our base of operation. No breaches from outside forces." She nods and for the 2nd time in her life the pod flew straight out of the mothership into the cold vacuum of space.

She crossed her arms and watched Vegetas whiz right past her hurtling with effort and ease to the planet that only seemed to become larger.. if that wasnt already more possible.

She marveled at it… it was amazing. It was a shame she was there for a job to do.

It was under 50 minutes where there pods broke entry to the planets atmosphere, careening and becoming hot to the touch, cold metal heating up faster, and faster becoming scorching red hot. Then the mountain range came into view, with the ship in sight the two pods crashed right into a large cave system.

Welding their pods into the hard rock walls to jut through with 0 damage just enough room for the pods to open on the opposite side of the mountain. Calamatta and Vegeta pushed the button to open the pod bay doors, they took one solid whif of the atmosphere and Cala sighed. "To-Rot huh.. so wheres the base ship?" Cala steps her boots onto the alien planets surface. "5 miles that way. Stay within the tree line, follow my lead." The prince cracks his neck and blasts away leaving a trail of dust and debris behind him.

"Say no more.." she stated following close behind Vegeta. Vegetas eyes were trained ahead. Toa ship that was covered in dirt and over growth. He tapped his scouter to be sure. "Perfect.. no signs of power levels. Excellent!" He smirked, the prince and Calamatta landed outside of the ship. Vegeta punched in a code and they were both let in. "Good.. now.. lets have a look around. The recent failed mission logs should have data from their logs. Have a look around for food and whatever else when i find the log ill call for you" Vegeta announced as the hangar door shut behind them locking followed by a robotic voice.

'Systems Armed'

Calamatta turned on her heels and scampered to the back of the ship. Vegeta watched the eager Saiyan trot away, with a sigh and a roll of his eye he headed towards the command deck of the ship.

Collected with dust and opened up first aid kits, Vegeta scanned the surrounding area cautiously. 3 lone scouters covered in blood sat on the front of the deck. An ominous reminder of the past couple of grunts who died here.

He snagged the three up and turned to call for Calamatta "Found them! Get up here!"

Calamatta dropped this box of rations she found and walked quickly to the front to see him plugging in the scouters logs. An unfamiliar voice chimed to life.

"F-Force log number 1, we have arrived at To-Rot, this area is to be our base of operation since the inhabitants cannot scale plateaus or fly. We will commence terraformation and return in a week." Vegeta clicked the 2nd video, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"F-Force Log number 2… uhm.. Que, Roa, and Gil went missing yesterday. We have been here for 3 days now and i have seen hide nor tail of them... ill send a distress warning to the mother ship but i will go and find my crew."

He pressed the last one and the room suddenly became much heavier. "F-Force number 3… i found my crew.. w-whats left of them…" he held up baren bones and armor. "This planets fucked up… if you know whats good for you send the Saiyans.. theyll do a better job.. i couldnt save my crew! This is Nutte signing off… i'm going to look for Roa.”

"Thats… not good.." Vegeta groaned and plugged in the next scouter, A new crew came up on the screen, a crew of ten. The crew was looking around, brows raised and sweat on their brow. “So we are the 4th crew to come to this planet alone, from what were aware these uh… the main population of this race is highly hostile and we need to utilize lethal force...Well update as we go along.” After that log there was no update, no commanders log. He stepped away and swiped a hand through his hair. “Last log…” He clicked on it which was 7 full days ago.

A Log List of all the times this one computer has been logged into popped up. It was far more then 4.

10 Crew lists came through. Crews of upwards of 5 being the smallest to 30 being the most. All vanished within days of arrival. All of them mentioning, to send someone stronger, someone more capable. The Saiyans, they begged for the Saiyans help and they were all sent on suicide missions back to back to back to back.

Vegeta slammed his hands down on the console making it glitch the screen. “Of course theyd call for us…dammit!” He barked and kept his back turned away from her. “So they sent them on suicide missions because… they didn’t want to send us?” She questioned, furrowing her brows trying to wrap her head around the situation. “Frieza didnt want to send me and the other two… He sent US on a suicide mission.” Vegeta turned quickly and stared daggers into Calamatta, the overwhelming feeling of concern rain heavy within her head, and sat uncomfortably in her stomach like something she shouldnt have eaten.

Vegeta crossed the room and pointed his finger right into her chest a deep growl emanating from behind his bared teeth. “He went and sent ME with YOU so we can both perish!” “Hey hey what the hell! Calm down abit, well make it out of here ill follow orders.” Vegeta’s vein popped out on his forehead, eyes narrowed furious.

“Thats not my point. Your optimism is the closest thing we have to any cocky behavior! It doesnt surprise me why Frieza sent me to a month long mission..” She put up her hands and once again her heart sunk; she went wide eyed staring into the princes heartlessly infuriated black eyes.

Friezas words rattled in her skull ‘your life is as forfeit to me as it is Vegeta…’

“I dont get why he would send both of us to die.” He turned back around and walked to a table with a map on it. “You stood at Frieza’s side for as long as you have been able to speak, you wanted freedom from him, now you might as well see the harsh reality, he never had any good intentions for you Calamatta. He wants you dead, so much so hell send the both of us to a lethal planet to terraform on our own…” He said flatly, Calamatta remained silent her tail loosely hanging from her waist. Her dignity and pride feeling like it was oozing out of her very pores. “Now get over here and lets get an idea of the land… this moon has two moons and we have to plan accordingly.” The map is very detailed of the entirety of the planet from the red deserts to the lush green forests and then to the grayed out city scapes. All of them giant hot beds of activity, teaming with life as they knew it.

His orders were direct and bland. Calamatta dragged her feet, depressed. Feeling less and less like a Saiyan by the moment, it wasnt so much Vegeta.. it was how quickly she was starting to realize Frieza was right, and goddamn did it grate her nerves to know that... The idea of freedom is going to be lightyears more heavier then she could imagine, shes not even close and this is what she has to deal with. Calamatta tightened her tail back up around her waist and listened to her Princes expertise plan of attack.

¤ ¤ ¤

Tags: @memevember @dragonblobz @gonuclear @msgreenverse @fallen--lilith @jimbobslurpnchug @dragonballcollector @nikabriefs @lilhemmo @supremeleadershitlord @thotful-writing @chickiedinner @anti-jaina @lizardhipsdontlie @dragonball-hcs-or-sum-shit @solidsock

#A Planet To Conquer Fic #Vegeta x oc #Calamatta~#Raditz #Nappa #DBZ Fanfiction #Slow Burn #here we go again

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vintage-squid · 5 years

Text

The Fruits of Love

Summary: "When we first met, you thought I was a pompous airhead and I thought you were nothing short of insufferable. If anyone had told me then I would one day spend my mornings waking up in your arms and kissing your illegally handsome face, I’d have told them to take a long walk off a short pier." Logan can't believe the wedding is finally happening, but even his nerves can't stop him from marrying the prince of his dreams.

Pairings: Logan/Roman, brotherly Virgil/Logan, background Virgil/Deceit/Patton

Rating: G Warnings: a whole heckin lotta fluff On AO3

I realized I never posted this to tumblr lol, so here yall go

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Logan exhaled deep and slow as he took one final look at himself in the full-length mirror. He smoothed his hands over the skirt of his dress, trying to focus on the sensation of smooth silk and textured ruffle rather than the clammy chill that had settled into his palms. The layers over his hips accented his low curves, holding him in an embrace as comforting as his fiance did each night. There was not a crinkle to be found in the fabric, nor a hair out of place from his wavy curls, and yet he felt as disheveled as the dressing room around him, which had been cleared of his half of their wedding party only moments before as they scrambled to get the finishing touches of their outfits in order before the ceremony.

Now, the groom-to-be was alone with his thoughts and a raising heart rate. He could do this, there was no reason for the flush of nervousness that sent a cool tingly sensation to the tips of his manicured fingers and toes (styled like miniature galaxies, of course, his brother was an exceptional artist, even with nail polish). There were less people out there than in any of his lectures, and all of the audience would be close friends and family, and yet...and yet…

He startled when someone softly knocked on the door, looking over his shoulder to see his brother, and best man, peeking in.

“You almost ready?” Virgil asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. With what was likely a pitiful expression, Logan turned and reached for his older brother. Virgil didn’t hesitate to step closer, gathering him close. He cupped Logan’s face, smoothing his thumbs over his brother’s cheeks and drawing him close to touch their foreheads together. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, LB. The love of your life is waiting for you out there, annoying as ever, but looking damn good too. Just don’t tell him I said that, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Logan huffed a small laugh, both at Virgil’s never-ending rivalry with his fiance, and the childhood nickname he would never shake - not that he wanted to. LB. Logan Baras. Little Brother. Logan Berries. Lotsa Binch. Really, it was getting ridiculous at this point, but it was an in-joke that had been evolving since they were in grade school. It was also part of the reason why Logan had asked to keep his last name, or hyphenate the two, after the wedding; he couldn’t bear to part with such an ingrained part of himself. Thankfully, Baras-Sanders rolled off the tongue quite nicely, in his opinion.

He raised his hands, mirroring his elder brother’s position to cradle Virgil’s face in turn. “I swear that will remain between you and I, else I will never hear the end of his gloating over your compliment either.” The pair chuckled before Logan trailed off with a sigh. “I .. I am…” A second shaky exhale. “I’m anxious, VB.” Virgil Baras. Very (Big) Brother. Vigilant Bro-tector. Vain Bastard. An eye for an eye, as they say. “I know our friends and family support our relationship, but many of them are unaware that I will be wearing a dress and make-up! Not to mention how unorthodox our choice of venue is - I can’t believe I let him talk me into hosting our wedding at his theater, and -”

“Hey!” Virgil’s low voice cut him off with a small shake of his head. “Hey... it’s my job to be the worry-wart here, remember? Deep breaths, okay? And stop chewing on your lip! Do you know how long it took me to get that ombre just right?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but obliged; he really didn’t want to sit through another session of his brother’s perfectionist fussing.

“Now, you look fucking amazing. Like damn gurl, slay it.” Virgil’s deadpanned drawl in a mockery of their mutual friend, Remy, had Logan snorting a giggle. “But seriously, LB, I can promise you that everyone out there is going to be stunned at how gorgeous this dress is, and how radiant you are… and no one more than that idiot you fell in love with. You’re gonna walk out there, and Za is gonna be with you to walk you down the aisle, and mom will be crying, and I’m gonna waiting on stage too, but you’re only gonna have eyes for the man you are marrying today.”

With a shaky smile and watery eyes, Logan lunged forward to wrap is older brother in a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of the other’s shoulder. “The proper pronunciation is ‘going to’, and I love you so goddamn much, VB.” Pulling back, he cycled a deep breath, and squeezed Virgil’s upper arms gently. “Thank you. Now, I believe we have a wedding to attend.”

Walking out of the dressing room arm-in-arm, the brothers snuck around the side doors so they could enter the theatre from the foyer with the rest of the wedding party. The assorted group of groomsmen, groomsladies, and friends of honour turned as they approached, the other best man breaking away to sweep Logan into a hug.

“Oh Lolo! You look stunning!” Patton pulled back, stars in his eyes as he looked over the whorls of colour covering the ballgown-style dress. “Wow…. This dress is absolutely perfect on you! And it matches your pretty make-up! Oh!! This is so wonderful!!” He fanned his face, trying to hold back the tears that were already threatening to fall. “I can’t believe you two are finally getting married!”

A blush graced Logan’s cheeks with a soft smile. “I cannot either; it feels like a dream come true.”

“Speaking of the wedding - we really need to get that started here, people!” A voice cut in, drawing the group’s attention to the ring-and-flower bearer of the ceremony. Denali approached the trio, slipping their hands into both Virgil and Patton’s. Their outfit was a delightful mix of both their genders: the tighter bodice giving way to a flared coattail-skirt with striped pants matched well with their colourful make-up - done on only one half of their face. The ensemble was completed with a wide-brimmed hat topped with an extravagantly flowing feather. “I love that you’re all being cutesy over here, I really do, but I don’t want to have to listen to Roman whine later that we left him standing at the altar. So-” They raised their voice, addressing the wedding party as a whole. “I need everyone to buddy up and line up! We have some gay nerds who need to get married!”

With a wave to cue the sound operator, the music began. A chuckle rippled through the crowd as they recognized the entrance music as a slowed version of the Lord of the Rings’ iconic theme. Virgil and Patton grinned at one another and planted a kiss on both of Denali’s cheeks simultaneously before linking arms and striding into the theater. Two by two, the rest of the wedding party followed, walking down the center aisle through the audience, and parting at the stage to walk up the stairs on each side. Their lines met once more to either side of Roman and the officiant, an array of suits and dresses in colours accenting the grooms’. Denali completed the proceeding on his own, tossing flower petals with a flourish so grand one would almost believe this was their wedding.

Then, the room faded into silence, and, as the opening notes of the original 1963 Doctor Who opening theme (stylized for a wedding procession, of course) played out, Logan rounded the corner. Arm linked with his Za, and a bouquet accented with peacock feathers held in his other hand, the groom looked ethereal in the spotlight. The blues and greys of his dress and make-up sparkled as he made his way past the most important people in his and Roman’s life, and if he had been able to look away from Roman’s eyes for a moment, he would have seen only love and awe radiating back from them.

Logan hugged his Za tightly as they stopped in front of the stage, smiling with tears in his eyes as his beloved parent tipped his head down to kiss his forehead. When Roman stepped down the stairs at center stage, his burgundy suit and silver filigree circlet lending him the regal air of royalty he had always hoped to achieve, his soon-to-be Za-in-law pulled him into a hug too. Ze guided the grooms’ hands together, squeezing them gently with a smile, and stepped back to sit with zir wife to watch as they officially welcomed another son into their lives.

Ever the gentleman, Roman helped his beloved up the steps, ensuring the skirt of his dress didn’t get caught under the practical blue flats Logan had chosen to wear. Thankfully, there was no train to wrangle, as it was an excess of fabric that Logan had no desire to waste or trip over. As they took their places, Virgil stepped forward to take the bouquet, letting the grooms hold both hands with matching smiles.

Clearing his throat, the officiant - and theater owner, and close friend of Roman’s - Thomas, began the ceremony.

“Mawage.” A smirk was tugging at his lips as both grooms’ jaws dropped. “Mawage is wot bwings us togeder today. Mawage, that bwessed awangement, that dweam wifin a dweam…” Slowly, Logan began to grin, Roman already biting his lip to muffle his giggles. “And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva..” Of course Thomas had chosen to quote the movie they had watched together on their first date. “So tweasure your wuv.”

The entire wedding party was giggling now, as well as a fair number in the audience. Thomas, looking far too pleased with himself, continued in his normal, exuberant tone. “I truly believe the pair standing before us today not only each embody the beautiful magic that blossoms in the heart when one has found true love, but they choose each and every day to work together to care for those precious gardens. They shared carefully tended clippings made from their vulnerabilities and strengths, their fears and their trust, and lovingly incorporated these parts of their partner into their hearts. At times, yes, there were weeds which needed to be pulled. Some just needed to be identified to deal with, while others required both of them pulling with all their might to remove. Those deep roots could have left holes in their gardens, but instead, our handsome grooms chose to fill in the spaces so new seedlings could begin to grow. The literal fruits of their labour have culminated here today, as they promise themselves to one another for the rest of their lives.”

Smiling widely, Thomas retrieved a ring box from the pocket of his suit and held it out. “Roman, I can tell you are absolutely bursting with the need to profess your love right now. We’ll let you say your vows first then.” A laugh rippled through the crowd, Logan snickering too as his betrothed shrugged with a sheepish smile but did not deny the claim.

With his fingers cupped under Logan’s, cradling and supporting them, Roman held up their joined hands and kissed his knuckles. “Hey nerd,” he began, drawing another laugh from their friends and family, and a smiling eye-roll from his beloved. “I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be the one standing up here with you today. When we first met, you thought I was a pompous airhead and I thought you were nothing short of insufferable. If anyone had told me then I would one day spend my mornings waking up in your arms and kissing your illegally handsome face, I’d have told them to take a long walk off a short pier. But, by Julie Andrews, here we are, and I couldn’t imagine my life without you by my side. You are my greatest joy, my strongest support, and my deepest love. I swear, with every fibre of my being, I will spend everyday striving to be the same for you. I swear to care for you through the good and the bad, to celebrate your victories like they were my own, and to provide for you safety from the noise of the world when all you need is someone on your side. I love you, Logan, this I swear to you.”

Delicately plucking a ring from its satin cushion in the box, Roman cradled Logan’s hand and slipped the band over his left finger. The silver band was inset with three small red stones set on a diagonal, mimicking Orion’s belt - the only constellation Roman could confidently identify for years, frequently and loudly, much to their joined amusement. Woven through the gemstones was a simple silver filigree, and all of which perfectly complemented the engagement ring already at home on Logan’s finger.

If at all possible, Thomas was smiling wider, eyes damp. “Logan? It’s your turn.”

With a sniffle, Logan looked from the wedding band up into the eyes of his love, determined to make it through the ceremony without ruining his make-up. Tenderly, he shifted Roman’s hands so both cradled Logan’s left, around his rings, around their promise. Right hand freed, Logan reached up to cradle Roman’s cheek and smooth his thumb over those sharp cheekbones, accented today with a glittering highlight.

“Roman,” he began, voice a little strained with emotion. “Gods above, Ro, only you and that ridiculously handsome smile of yours could make me forget every carefully planned out word I wanted to say.” The couple shared a chuckle, Roman’s hands tightening briefly around his. “You are every bit the royalty you claim to be. Even now, I cannot recall which one of us began to pursue the other, but I will surely never forget how patient you have been with me through every step of our relationship. Not once have you ever asked more from me than I was willing to share, and nor did you get angry or leave when I requested we slow down because I was scared of how quickly I found myself falling for you. I used to relish in my solitude, in the silence of my own company, but somehow you managed to worm your stubborn way over my walls. You have become a vital part of my life, and I find it unnervingly quiet when you are not around. I cannot even enjoy star-gazing alone anymore! Roman, I need you to know, I would never have it any other way. I swear to care for you through the good and the bad, to celebrate your victories like they were my own, and to provide for you safety from the noise of the world when all you need is someone on your side. I love you, Roman, you truly are the prince of my dreams.”

There was not a dry eye in the theater as Logan retrieved the matching ring to his own from the box and slid it delicately onto Roman’s finger. The equally silver band sat alongside Roman’s engagement ring like it were expressly created to be there. The filigree crept around another trio of gemstones in the same position as Logan’s, though these were coloured a deep blue.

Clutching a hand to his heart, Thomas wiped the tears from his eye. “Roman James Sanders, do you take Logan to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Unable to look away from his love, Roman nodded with a wide smile. “I do.”

“Logan Wilson Baras, do you take Roman to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Logan nodded and squeezed their rejoined hands. “I do.”

“Then by the powers vested in me by the province of British Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and husband! You may kiss the groom!”

Logan had only a moment’s notice at Roman’s shit-eating grin, before he was swung around into a dip, his husband’s - husband!! - knee supporting his back and arms around his shoulder and neck. “You are positively ridiculous,” he muttered, before tugging Roman by the tie to share their first kiss as a wedded couple. Cheers and applause erupted around them, including a wolf-whistle that could have just as easily been from any member of their wedding party.

Straightening, the couple leaned together, Roman’s arm around Logan’s back, hand resting comfortingly on his opposite hip. They grinned, their friends and family standing as Thomas’ voice rang out once more. “Guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, for the first time ever, I present to you Mr. and Mr. Baras-Sanders!”

As a second cheer arose, Virgil stepped over to hand Logan his bouquet again, pulling his brother into a tight hug. “Congrats LB,” he whispered, before standing back and applauding the newly weds.

‘Love you’, Logan mouthed in return, smiling at his brother before turning back to Roman to join their hands and take their first steps into the next adventure of their lives together.

#logince #platonic analogical #moxieceit #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides #fanfiction #squid scribbles

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taelme · 5 years

Text

Spiderman!Eric

genre: spiderman!au, friends-to-lovers!au (fluff)

pairing/s: Eric / Fem reader (ft Stray Kids Felix)

word count: 5k+

tw: mild violence like fighting yall know the drill hes spiderman

Felix 12:33am - call me - 12:33am - srsly call me now i gotta show u smth -

You picked up the (incessantly) ringing device, wondering who it was yet already knowing who it was going to be.

Seeing Felix's caller id show up on your phone screen, you sighed, swiping the call to answer it anyway, putting it at a rather ugly angle on your pillow since it was Felix, after all.

"Why are you video calling, did you press the wrong button again?" you murmured, lazily leaning on your pillow as you talked. Felix looked as if he was in some sort of living room, and that framed geodude puzzle hanging on the wall behind him was beginning to look just too familiar.

Almost as if hearing your thought process, the blonde haired boy turned his head, shouting a loud, "Eric! Come here, dude!" Making you shoot up quickly, a hand flying to your head from the throb you got after getting up too fast.

Angling your phone so you looked a little more presentable, your breath hitched when you saw Eric come into your view, with a small towel draped over his head.

Eric raised his eyebrows at Felix in confusion before spotting you on the phone, his mouth dropping open before closing quickly, smiling shyly at you with a wave.

"Hi," his voice came out soft, "sorry to disturb you so late in the night, you seem like you were about to sleep."

Even though the three of you knew it was the truth, you replied dismissively anyway, "Oh, no it's fine, really. I wasn't asleep yet anyway." You didn't miss the knowing look Felix gave you, making you shrug your shoulders while Eric got comfortable in his seat next to Felix. His sharp eyes rounding when he looked back at the screen, holding the edges of the towel draped over his head with a certain hint of excitement in his expression.

"Are you ready for this? probably not but we're gonna show you anyway, okay, Eric, one, two....three!" Felix practically tore the towel off of Eric's head, revealing a bright blue head of hair, making your eyes widen, Felix giving the phone to Eric when the blue haired boy held his hand out expectantly after seeing your reaction.

"That's.....bright."

"Do you...." Eric's gaze travelled elsewhere (anywhere but at you, really) as his fingers smoothed down the parts of his hair that got ruffled in the process of Felix's dramatic reveal. "Do you uh...you know, like it?" he asked, flicking and pulling at his hair in an attempt to make it more presentable, thought you felt it was fine.

"I do! yeah! i mean, it looks great!" you were quick to reassure him, enjoying the smile that appeared on his face, relieved almost.

"What made you wanna do that suddenly?" Eric was about to reply when Felix cut in quickly, his face appearing on the screen and covering anything else visible.

"For the fun of it, you know?" Felix shrugged, "Me and my friends used to do stuff like this all the time in Australia," you rolled your eyes.

"So you just convinced Eric to bleach and dye his hair for fun?"

Eric's voice sounded behind Felix, "I thought maybe it was time to try something different for a change, or something," Felix nodded vigorously, smiling widely.

"That's cool," you heard a commotion on the other side of the phone, though you kept talking anyway, figuring it was a normal occurrence for them, "it really looks great, by the way-"

"Okay that's enough, Y/N. Time to go to sleep, bye!" Felix hung up the call before you could say goodbye. Sighing, you set your phone back down on the table, staring at the ceiling for a while trying to figure out why you were so affected by Eric just having different hair when your phone rang with a notification alarm.

Picking it up, you saw Eric had sent you a photo, opening it to see a picture that he'd taken of himself with a snorlax plushie, caption being 'we kind of look the same now, right?'

You laughed, replying him quickly to say he looked absolutely the same, though not surprised at the 'goodnight' text you'd received shortly after.

Eric was nice to you, and everyone else, you supposed.

===

"Hey dude, that's not very nice," Eric called in a voice that sounded genuinely upset at what was unfolding in the alley beneath him. Despite his lack of combat training (unless you counted fake ‘mma’ matches with Felix as training), as well as the fact that the man was probably twice Eric's size, Eric knew that that couldn't matter right now because whoever that could try to mug an old lady, was a dick. (and should be stopped, of course)

Shooting a web to the opposite apartment building, Eric swung down, landing smoothly in front of the mugger and using his webs to trap him against the wall, leaving him about half a minute to get this old lady whatever she needed.

If Eric was expecting any thanks, he should have thought again because this old lady was practically hysterical that some red and blue spider looking thing had just rescued her from being mugged.

"Ma'am please calm down, it’s okay,” Eric pleaded in his 'Spiderman' voice, only successfully doing so when he pushed up his mask enough to reveal his mouth.

"See? i'm a human! i'm a human boy! Nothing to worry about Ma'am,” Eric waved his hands as reassuringly as he could, calling the police to inform them of the mugger before shooting a few more webs on him as a precaution before bringing the old lady out into the town area. “Please be safe....and try not to walk through alleys next time!”

Swinging himself back onto the roof where he'd tossed his backpack previously, Eric checked the time on his phone, 7:20am, almost time for school. If he left now, he could probably still make it back by 7:30. Thank God he didn't listen to Felix when he tried to convince him not to bring his school uniform to his trips.

Eric was practically sprinting into the school, panting and clothes wrinkled from being wadded up in his backpack for so long, trying his best to slip into the class unnoticed to his desk was next to yours.

Twirling your pen as you tried to remain inconspicuous so the teacher wouldn't notice that Eric had jut arrived, he'd made that a little harder when he'd kneed the table in his hurry to sit down, thankfully going unnoticed by the teacher.

"You're early," you smirked, hearing him grunt in reply, chest still heaving from his trip here. (Eric would have figured that being Spiderman meant he wouldn't get winded from stairs so easily).

Tugging the sleeves of his shirt down, hooking a finger at his collar to pull it away from his neck and fanning himself with his other hand, the blue haired boy shrugged with a breathy laugh, "Sure am.” He told you, sticking his tongue out at you before turning his attention back to the teacher.

You scribbled down notes lazily, trying not to get distracted by the way Eric looked so different with this new hair, even if half of it was hidden under a baseball cap. Getting bored after a while, you shifted your attention to the screen, feeling yourself slowly start to let your vision blur, almost giving into sleep when you felt someone nudge your elbow, turning to see Eric was trying to pass you a small yellow post-it note.

Taking the note and pasting it onto your notebook, it read: -which one are you gonna sign up for?-

Turning your head to face Eric, you nudged him, seeing him jump slightly in his seat before a small huff of laughter left his lips. “Hmm?” his eyebrows raised, pen halting its movements against his paper.

“Sign up for what?”

There was a moment of silence where Eric looked as though you’d just told him his dog died before he leaned his head forward abruptly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and mouth gaping slightly, “Sign up for what?” he asked you.

Rolling your eyes yet not being able to help the smile from your face, you shoved the - now crumpled - note into his hand. “This! Weren’t you the one that asked me?” you whisper-shouted, a hand moving to grip at your hair in mock frustration.

Eric’s expression softened, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape in realization, “Oh, right. Yeah, which internship position are you gonna sign up for?” he pointed to the board at the front of the class, where the teacher had written down various internship positions at different companies.

“What’s this for?” you glanced at Eric’s notebook to see if he’d written anything useful about it, seeing his small neat handwriting of

‘different day, different company take different day -’

Eric was quick to shield his notebook from you, choosing to distract you by pointing his pen to the direction of the board while he tried to make himself look less flustered at the fact that you could have just seen how he’d written that he wanted to take a different attachment day from you so it would be easier to have lunch with you.

“You see, we’re supposed to choose one,” he explained, closing his notebook and shoving it into his bag while you were looking at the board. “I think i’m gonna choose Monday’s,” he started slowly, “You know, since i like that, and you don’t...”

Your gaze went to the Monday slot on the board, seeing that it was something to do with sports and you made a face of disgust, shaking your head.

“You’re right, i don’t like that. I was thinking of maybe Wednesday?” you pointed at the area on the board to direct his attention there, seeing him nod, a soft smile threatening to appear.

“Great then, we’ll still have lunch breaks to spend together!”

“You think Felix will join us?” you bypassed his implication, making him press his lips together in a tight line.

“Eh, up to him, he’s welcome to whenever he wants,” Eric shrugged, not averse to the idea but not completely for it either. Felix was his best friend but...sometimes he was a little too obvious with the whole spider thing.

"Nice," you smiled to yourself, scribbling down quickly onto your notebook about the details of your internship, the thought of work reminding you of Eric's part-time job.

"Right, are you working today?"

Eric had almost forgotten that he had told you about his 'part-time job', if you counted roaming around the streets of your neighbourhood looking for crime to stop dressed in a body suit as a part-time job.

"I work everyday, the city never sleeps Y/N," he sighed dramatically, shaking his head at his textbook wistfully.

"What are you even talking about you work at a pet shop, i'm pretty sure that part of the city does sleep." Eric waved you off dismissively, not being able to help the tiny giggle that slipped from his mouth, his hands coming up to his hair in embarrassment but only coming in contact with the material of his cap, forgetting he was even wearing it.

"Also, are you forgetting something?"

Eric furrowed his eyebrows, tapping his pen on his notebook, trying to figure out what exactly it was he was forgetting. Was it your birthday? no, it can't be, Eric remembered there was still months to go before that. Maybe it's movie night again? Eric frowned, no, we had that yesterday.

"I give up," the blue-haired boy finally slumped his shoulders, dropping his pen onto the table and holding his hands out to you in a begging gesture. "What was it that i forgot this time?" he pouted, trying his best to ease his way out of trouble if you were angry at him.

Pushing the flyaway strands of your hair away from your face haphazardly as you turned to him, you mustered a look of disgust, "You were supposed to help me write my article about Spiderman for the newspaper club!" you frowned, hands finding their way to your hips. A look of realization flashed over Eric's features, making you sigh.

"I knew you'd forget, you're always busy with baseball or your job or playing games with Felix, it's a wonder you even agreed to help me with that paper in the first place." you sighed.

"Look, i'm really sorry it just slipped my mind...let me make it up to you?" he pleaded, earning a dirty look from you.

"Lunch is on you," you decided.

Eric's expression relaxed visibly, glad that that was what you'd decided on as a compensation, nodding his head at you with a smile, "Deal."

===

"And you're sure you don't need me to walk you back?" Felix asked, though you knew both him and his friend Changbin were hoping you would say no so they could head over to the computer cafe to play games.

You shot them a look, eyes narrowing at them as you gripped your laptop tighter in your arm, shooting Felix a tight-lipped smile.

"It's fine, if anything i'll just call Eric," Felix opened and closed his mouth quickly as if stopping himself from saying something, deciding on nodding firmly at you, waving goodbye to let you leave. Eric hadn't told you where the pet-shop was but you figured it didn't matter anyway since you never visited him there, but little did you know tonight you wouldn't have to.

"Hey! Stop!" You heard the clanging of bins and the heavy thudding of running footsteps, looking around to find the source of the sound when you saw someone running past you, knocking into you slightly but the impact causing them to lose their balance and stumble onto the floor. You figured he wasn't that innocent with the cds that had spilled out from his jacket when he fell. So you did what you figured anyone would've done in this situation, you stepped on his chest.

You heard a gust of wind before a light thud in front of where you and the man were, your breath getting caught in your throat when you realized that Spiderman was in front of you.

"I told you not to run, you can get all these cds at a sale!" the masked boy had waved his hands exasperatedly, squatting down and looking up at you when he'd seen that the man - or boy, he looked like he couldn't be much older than you -was still being held down by your leg. In your shock you had pressed your leg harder onto the boy, making him let out a pained groan which fell on your deaf ears.

"Uh..." Spiderman cleared his throat, and your eyes widened expectantly, not realizing your foot was still on the boy's chest until Spiderman gestured a covered finger towards it.

"Oh! sorry, i just you know, thought it would help keep him down.." you blurted, removing your leg quickly and taking a step back from the boy. Spiderman cleared his throat, mustering a deeper, more authoritative voice, or his 'Spiderman voice' as Felix liked to call it.

"Thanks for helping me stop this guy, i really owe you one." Spiderman told you, making you flush, shaking your head at him out of courtesy.

"No problem....Spiderman?" Said boy let out a small giggle, sounding oddly familiar to you but you were too busy observing him clear away the cds and let the boy go to say anything.

"Don't do it again or i'm telling your mom!" you frowned in confusion as you watched the boy scramble off the floor and run off.

"His mom?"

"His mom's the owner of the bakery across the street from the cd shop, she'd kill him if she knew he was doing this." Spiderman stood up, dusting the knees of his suit before turning to you, and you were practically itching to remove his mask.

"So.....kind citizen, how may i repay you?" he said, sounding an awful lot like he was in a period drama, making you laugh, though you couldn't say you had no idea what you wanted him to do either.

He spent a solid minute shifting his weight from leg to leg while waiting for your answer. "What's your name?"

"E-" Spiderman stopped himself, lengthening the vowel so he sounded like he meant to scold you instead. "Foul play, pretty citizen," Eric mentally slapped himself for being so gullible, resisting the urge to scream when you tilted your head at him, not sure why the sudden confidence was taking over you in front of the masked superhero.

"Pretty?" Spiderman was thankful for the mask hiding his face because he was sure he'd never felt so hot underneath the mask.

"Not a valid question, next," he blurted quickly, making you laugh.

"It's okay, Spiderman. You probably don’t have time to answer my questions anyway,” this struck a cord with Eric, feeling as though you were talking to him instead of just talking to Spiderman, rushing to your side and waving his hands in dismissal, “No, noo! I do have time! I’m on duty right now, i’m making sure you get home safely!” he assured you, a skeptical expression making its way onto your face.

“On duty, huh?” you repeated, “Say, Spiderman, you couldn’t possibly explain to me why you became Spiderman in the first place, could you?” you asked, seeing his hand go up to his head, unconsciously starting to walk together with you in the direction back to your place.

“You know, i didn’t know exactly, either. I just thought...it’d be nice to try to make a difference in this town, even if it was just a small difference.”

“I think you’re pretty cool,” you spoke, your gaze still directed forward, looking at the glow of the buildings cast from streetlamps, “What you do, i mean,” you corrected.

“You do?” He replied a little too quickly, clearing his throat before shrugging, “I mean, yeah, it’s just...what it is.”

“You don’t mind, right?” you asked, “Me asking you all these questions. I mean, i heard from my friend Eric that you’re a pretty low-key guy so i was kind of shocked you were actually going along with my questions,” you adjusted your grip on the things you were carrying, shoulders starting to feel sore from carrying them for so long.

“Here, lemme get that for you.” Spiderman reached his hand over to try to take your things, but you were quick to refuse, “There’s really no need for that, i’m fine-“

“I’m only helping a kind citizen after a long day,” he shrugged, and when he put it that way, oh, how tempting it was. So you did let him carry your things, besides, no one would know. Especially not Eric, oh Eric would tease you for days if he found out Spiderman carried your laptop and books home for you.

“Are you embarrassed?” Spiderman asked you, and because of how familiar he felt, his Spiderman voice was gone, and strangely, you didn’t even notice. You shook your head vigorously, letting your hair cover your face before finally squeaking out a, “Okay, maybe a little bit.”

You heard Spiderman let out a small huff of laughter, “That’s cute.”

Your head snapped around quickly so you could glare at him, turning onto the street of your house, “Is it part of your job description to flirt with kind citizens?”

He shrugged, and Eric wasn’t sure where he’d gained this new-found confidence around you but he was strangely thankful for it, “Maybe only the ‘you’ kind of kind citizens?” he laughed, realizing you had reached your house already.

“My friend Eric’s gonna be stoked if i tell him i met you.” you smiled, taking your things back from Spiderman, seeing him step back and nod at you. “Sure is,” he told you.

You couldn’t help but find what he said similar to what Eric usually says to you, not being able to help yourself with your next statement.

“You know...you kind of remind me of him,” you adjusted your bag strap on your shoulders, scrutinizing his mask before shaking your head, “Nevermind, pretend i never said anything. Goodnight, Spiderman,” you smiled, waving at him.

Whipping your phone out, you went to yours and Eric’s chat

10:43pm -you would not BELIEVE who i just saw-

===

Eric wasn't sure what kind of stupid had posessed him to say he'd enjoy hearing about your encounter with Spiderman, but he'd decided after the 3rd time of hearing the same story repeated to different people that he really hated it. I mean, it wasn't as if Eric wasn't Spiderman, it was just hearing you say over and over again that Spiderman was so 'cute!' and 'kind!' and 'had a great butt!' was just starting to get on Eric's nerves, knowing you would never describe him that way.

You'd found Eric's reaction to your Spiderman story rather unusual, since you was usually so used to Eric being excited to tell you about Spiderman and what he 'researched' about him. But you figured maybe he was just tired of hearing the same story. Not that you cared but still.

You were currently seated at the bistro that you, Felix and Eric frequented, spread out across the cushions of your usual booth, your legs spread out in front of you while Felix chose to squeeze with Eric.

Felix's phone had buzzed, and the boy's eyes lit up upon reading the message. "You guys going for the halloween party? One of my friends just sent me the details."

"Halloween party? Like the one we went to last year?" you leaned forward in an attempt to read from Felix's phone.

"The one i went dressed as a princess for?" Eric's eyes widened and you laughed at the memory.

"Yep," Felix nodded, "Its being thrown by the same person, so you guys are invited too."

"Oh my god, we should coordinate our outfits this year too!" Felix cheered, earning a mock look of disgust from you, but nodding nonetheless.

"Wait, maybe not. Cause i was thinking about going as Spiderman," Felix continued.

You let out a satisfied sound at Felix's mention of Spiderman. "I'm telling you, Felix, there's something about Spiderman that's just so.....so-it gets me, you know what i mean?" you spoke, gaze directed at the tv screen in the bistro.

Felix exchanged a knowing look with Eric, whose eyes widened and slurped his drink hurriedly. You were waiting for Felix reply when Eric had handed you his powerbank, asking if you could help him put it in his bag, only realizing a little too late that he'd forgotten to specify which pocket of his bag. And it wasn't as if he could risk having you see his crumpled up Spiderman suit in there.

Bending down and unzipping the back pocket of his bag, you shuffled around for his pouch before catching a flash of red and blue latex at the bottom of the bag, your hand withdrawing from the material when you realized the implications of it, just as you heard Eric add in a, "Front pocket, please."

As if the timing couldn't be any better, you heard Felix chime in with what he thought about Spiderman.

"I mean, when you think about it, i'd say he's pretty similar with Er- ouch!" Felix glared at Eric, mouthing for him to trust him before you sat up, furrowing your eyebrows at Felix, "Nothing, just hit the table adjusting my legs," he told you casually.

"Anyway as i was saying, i think he's pretty similar to Eric," you frowned, the new knowledge of what was in Eric's bag making you think of the incident happening with Eric in Spiderman's place, the idea threatening to make your face heat up.

"Oh my God, no no, don't make it weird, shut up, Felix," you dismissed the thought quickly, not wanting Eric to feel uncomfortable as well, since after all, you did say Spiderman had a cute butt.

Eric looked at you with a confused expression, before grinning quickly and laughing along with you. "Yeah....shut up, Felix," Eric looked down into his smoothie, hoping the shadow would hide his blush.

"You guys suck, i'm speaking some truth here, you know?" Felix huffed, sinking further into his seat, Eric simply choosing to shrug as a reply.

"Whatever, Felix. Just text me the details of the party, i'm gonna head back to my office now. Lunch break's almost over," you told them, Eric nodding in reply, while Felix gave you a wave, shooing you away.

Felix turned to his friend once you'd left, nudging the boy on the shoulder. Eric slumped onto the cushion of the booth, groaning loudly, attracting attention from some of the diners.

"I'm screwed. She's gonna fall for Spiderman and then they're gonna get married and then she's gonna see me as her stupid friend for the rest of her life," Eric whined, making Felix frown in confusion, an amused lilt to his tone when he replied.

"Bro, i think you're forgetting a really important detail..." Eric's head whipped around so he could glare at Felix for interrupting his crisis.

"What now, Felix?"

"You are Spiderman, dude!" Eric's mouth formed an 'o' shape in realization, eyebrows raising as he straightened up in his seat, taking a long sip from his smoothie.

"Right, forgot." Eric stared pensively at Felix, "But how am i supposed to reveal that to her? What kind of elaborate plan can i possibly make?" Eric pouted, earning a grin from Felix.

Shrugging, the blonde haired boy spoke, twirling the un-used straw between his fingers, "Who knows, maybe it'll be easier than you think."

Which was worse, to have shown up at the halloween party with Felix dressed as Spiderman, or the fact that Eric was nowhere to be seen, you couldn't decide. You'd been calling Eric multiple times that night, but a sudden bank robbery had taken Eric from you that night.

"Will you at least help me bring my costume?" he had blurted hurriedly to Felix, who was already dressed in his Spiderman costume. Nodding to appease Eric, Felix waved his hands in dismissal.

"Dude, really, don't worry about it, i got you covered. Just go do what you have to do," Eric had nodded, already rushing to leave.

"And remember to turn off your phone!"

"Already did!" Eric called back.

He didn't.

Now Eric was fighting a robber with Ariana Grande's voice singing ‘One Last Time’ blasting out of his pocket.

Holding the robber off with a kick, the burly man stumbling back slightly, Eric saw the caller id as your name.

Picking up the phone quickly, trying to divert the robber's attention by jumping from place to place to tire him out. "Eric, where are you? You said you'd be here an hour ago!" you sounded more than disappointed, making Eric let out a small groan.

"I'm sorry! Really, just-something came up, and i needed to," he let out a small grunt when he'd landed on the floor a little ungracefully, "settle it. I swear, i'll be there soon."

"The party's getting boring without you, if you're not there in 30 minutes i'm leaving!" you announced, hanging up quickly. Eric whined loudly, dodging a punch from the robber as he put his phone back.

"Look man, I really don't have time for this right now," Eric threw a few webs around the man to stop him from moving, removing the mask from the man's face. "Remember to smile for your mug shot!" he laughed, dialing the police before leaving quickly, shooting webs and swinging himself from apartment building to apartment building, desperately trying to get to the party before you left.

Calling Felix was no use, the boy was already lost in the party, probably even forgetting he had a phone with how much fun he was having. It was only when Eric saw Felix over at the ping pong table did he manage to get his attention.

The blonde boy turned around, "Oh what, same costume? Not cool, man," Felix groaned, earning an eyeroll from Eric that he couldn't see anyway. "Felix, its me," Eric told him.

Felix stared blankly at the suit-clad boy before realization struck him, "Oh!" he shouted, immediately taking Eric aside into the nearest room he could find, ripping off Eric's mask and letting out a loud gasp when he saw the bruise on Eric's jaw.

"That looks rough, what happened?"

"No time for that right now, Felix, where's Y/N?" Eric made as if to go find you but was stopped by Felix's arms on his shoulders. "Woah, man, no way i'm letting you go around with this bruise on your face."

"It's fine, I'll just wear my mask."

Felix gave him an uncertain look, looking fairly hesitant but shaking his head disapprovingly, "Last i checked she was in the kitchen? But i'd suggest you avoid the crowd now, they're gonna lose their shit when they realize Spiderman is here."

Eric groaned, knowing Felix was right, which was why Felix didn't have a mask on. "Okay, i'll just go wait on the rooftop. Just give me a text when you find her."

Eric swung himself onto the roof with ease after leaving the building briefly. Putting on his mask, he lay down on the floor of the roof, starting to feel tired from fighting.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he saw that you'd sent him more texts asking where he was.

In his fatigued haze, he didn't bother thinking when he'd replied you,

9:50pm -im at the rooftop-

Putting his phone aside, Eric looked at the sky through the muffled view he got through his mask, too tired to process the sound of the rooftop doors opening until he heard your voice.

"Felix? What the hell are you doing here? Eric told me i could find him here and when i get here he's not here again," you stomped your foot weakly, sitting down next to what you assumed was Felix's lying form.

"Stupid Eric," you huffed, "You even told me he was definitely gonna be here! All i wanted was a nice night with stupid cute Eric and have a good time but it's just not going how i wanted it to go."

"How did you want it to go then?" Eric finally spoke, making your breath get caught in your throat when you realized the person next to you really wasn't Felix.

"Er-" you stopped yourself, not sure if you wanted to let him know you knew just yet. Though at this point, Eric was too tired to bother about that.

"Spiderman?" Eric huffed at the name.

"That's me, good ol' friendly neighbourhood Spiderman," he shrugged, sitting up and reaching a hand to fiddle with the material covering his calf.

"I'm sure whoever this Eric person is, he probably didn't mean to leave you here without a reason, you know?"

You stared at him in disbelief, narrowing your eyes at him. "Uh-huh," you crossed your arms over your chest, "Just kinda sucks when you have the boy you like right in front of you still lying to your face," you shrugged.

"What?" Eric tilted his head in confusion, caught off guard when you reached a hand over to yank his mask off of his head.

"That's better," you smiled, enjoying the shocked look on Eric's face, his now slightly faded blue hair sticking up in various places because of the mask.

"How are you not shocked?" Eric spoke, hands waving around frantically, expecting a much more extreme reaction from you than what he had gotten.

"To be honest with you, I knew since that day at the bistro when i was putting your stuff back into your bag. Saw your suit," you explained, seeing him lie back down, his hands covering his face.

"God, i'm really stupid, aren't i?" Eric removed his hands, revealing his giddy smile to you. "To save your last bit of pride, i'm not answering that," you smiled back.

"Correct me if i'm wrong," Eric began, his gaze on the mask you fiddled with in your hands. "You know, sometimes it's hard to hear under the mask, but....did i hear you refer to me as the boy you like?"

"Nope," you said, face completely serious as you watched Eric's expression fall, "Oh,"

"Eric, i'm kidding. I totally did." Eric's hand moved to cover the lower half of his face, blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Good, cause you're the girl i like too," he told you casually. Making your mouth gape open in shock.

"Is it just me or does your confidence just become crazy whenever you put on this suit?" you told him with a laugh.

"Maybe," he shrugged, "you know, Spiderman's a real lady killer." You laughed, shaking your head at him. "Oh, i'm sure."

You were sat in-between the open space of his legs, with himself still lying on the ground, "He's got all sorts of tricks, it'd be hard to resist him at all, not my words, his," you scoffed. Eric was having fun with this, finally feeling fully comfortable and at ease after the unnecessary worrying about what you would think.

"Care to demonstrate said tricks?" Eric placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider your challenge, his ‘Spiderman' confidence taking over him as he shot a web to the wall facing him, "gladly," he told you. Using the wall as leverage, he lifted himself to sitting position and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

Pulling away and standing up quickly as if nothing had happened, he shot you a smile as he held his hand out to help you up.

"Real lady killer, isn't he?"

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