#having that thought run through my head literally made me snap out of my mental spiral bc it's such a fucking absurd idea

[unnamed-atlas]

My mother earlier today: Yeah, you know, you've always been so level headed, good at taking things in stride and processing it and then moving on, but your brother is so anxious, you know he just boxes stuff up and let's it sit in the back of his head worrying him like I do

Me, 10 minutes ago, laying in bed after silently compartmentalizing a minor situation with one of my best friends for 24 hours straight and letting it fester into the worst random absurd speculation despite the fact that I know full well we're probably fine bc he literally invited me to his birthday party tomorrow earlier today and really there wasn't any actual conflict involved in said situation in the first place: Oh my god he could be planning to murder me tomorrow and I couldn't even do anything

[writer-komaru]

˚.* ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ *.˚ Sin Soaked Silk .ೋ .ೃ˚, ੈ ׂׂ ೄ’

✧Rating: Smut

✧Characters: Simeon

✧Word Count: 4k

✧Summary: On one faithful evening while you and Simeon are hanging out in his room like normal, you notice the revealing clothes this supposed angel of has on. How ironic, you think. It would be a shame if… someone were to, well, run a hand over his exposed sides… maybe a finger down his lovely back… if he didn’t want to get touched, why does he keep everything out in the open, huh? Simeon has to just sit there and use all his strength he has to fight back against these impulses. What kind of angel would he be if he gave into sin? But… it’s just so tempting… Why must you be so alluring….?

Times like this really made you appreciate the life you were blessed with. You, a normal human, were sitting in the bedroom of an Angel. Not metaphorically, a literal, real-life angel. But you were pretty used to it at this point. Ever since you discovered the worlds of Devildom and the Celestial Realm, you’ve been met with otherworldly encounters with strange beings one after the other, beings humans don’t even have the mental capacity to understand. But, as Solomon always told you, you were special. Your attention suddenly snapped back to Simeon as he gently tapped your thigh.

“Is everything alright, MC?” He asks kindly.

“Yeah I'm fine, just kinda got distracted. Anyways, what were we doing?” You turn your body to the right to face him.

He chuckles, “We weren’t doing anything in particular, but I can find something for us to do if you'd like,” He stands up and walks over to the large darkwood bookcase over in the corner of his dimly lit room. As he examines them, your eyes unintentionally fall on the exposed state of his back, just barely covered by the see-through material of his robe. His muscles were so defined, like an intricately sculpted marble statue. For an angel, you would have thought he’d do his best to cover up and look presentable in a formal sense, not wear the most scanty outfit known to mankind. You giggled to yourself as he returned carrying two identical books.

“You seem rather happy about something. Wanna tell me about it?” He smiled at you while laying one of the books on your lap.

“On, it’s nothing,” you stifle another giggle and pick up the hardcover book. The title reads, If the Orchid Petals Fall, in fancy, shiny letters. The cover is decorated with numerous ivory petals, surrounding the hunched figure of an angel, its wings seemingly transforming into the flurry of petals. It was quite a beautiful cover.

“What’s this book about?” You flip it over and admire the back.

“It’s something Micheal gifted me a while back. He told me it reminded him of me for some reason, but even after reading it on my own, I still can't quite understand his reasoning,” Simeon hums as he glances over the first few pages, “I thought maybe if we read it together I could get a second opinion and decipher what he was trying to tell me.”

“I see. Reading isn’t really my thing, but this book does sound pretty interesting. I’ll give it a shot,” You flash him a smile.

“Thank you kindly, MC. I do have to warn you, Micheal has a very… Interesting choice in books, and that doesn’t exclude this one. I think it would be best if I just wait here while you read,” He scratches the back of his neck shyly.

You raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean by interesting?”

“You'll soon discover for yourself,” A faint blush dusts his cheeks. You cock your head at him and continue reading. It isn't long before you discover what Simeon was hinting at. This book seems to be dealing with some very sinful topics for having such an innocent looking cover. The angel next to you peeks over at the page you’re on and immediately looks away, his blush only getting deeper. It’s almost amusing. Could this be Micheal’s plan all along; give Simeon an inappropriate book and tell him it has some special meaning so he has no choice but to read it over and over again? What a trickster…

“Maybe it would be best if we do something else, something we both can do together?” He laughs nervously and stands up, reaching out a hand to take back the book. You quickly finish the page you were on and give it back to him. As he puts it back on the shelf, a rather exciting idea comes to you. If Micheal really was doing this to prank Simeon, it wouldn’t hurt taking part, would it? He reaches up to the top shelf to insert the books in their rightful place, unknowingly flexing his back muscles all for your enjoyment. With a devious smirk, you slowly stalk up to him and run a light finger down the middle of his spine. A large shiver runs down his back as he releases a small gasp.

His head whips around to face you, “W-What was that for?”

“Hehehe, my bad. It was an accident,” you shrug it off.

“That didn’t seem like an accident,” he narrows his eyes and turns around to face you, “Are you playing some sort of prank on me?”

“Of course not, who do you take me for? Mammon?” You cross your arms confidently. Your eyes wander over his body, soon locking onto the small side windows his shirt can’t seem to cover up. He follows your eyes and tilts his head curiously.

“I gotta question, Simeon…” you slowly inch closer, causing him to inch back and lean against the bookcase, “Why do angels like to wear such immodest clothes?”

“That seems rather inappropriate, don’t you think?” He chuckles softly and looks away, unable to meet your determined gaze. He felt almost helpless.

“It’s an honest question. You and Raphael both seem to wear clothes that I thought were unbefitting of an Angel. Don’t you get in trouble or is it normal for an Angel to wear very little?” You lean closer to his ear, making his body twitch slightly.

“Well uh… it’s kind of a sign of purity for us angels to wear outfits that might be seen as… um… revealing. It’s not something I usually mind, to be honest, it’s a lot more comfortable than wearing large amounts of bulky clothes,” he smiles, sweating nervously.

“I see… I guess that makes sense. But it kinda leaves you a bit vulnerable, doesn’t it? What if someone came around and… did something like this,” you finally rest your hands on his tantalizing waist, causing him to let out a small, surprised gasp. He tried to flinch away from your touch, but you stayed persistent. That’s as until he peeled your soft hands off of him and held them on his own.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you but I can’t really allow you to t-touch me there,” he looks at you apologetically.

“And why not?” You whine, looking back to his gorgeously exposed skin.

“Because I’m an Angel. I’m not really allowed to engage in such private acts like that. It’s… uh…” his voice trails off as your hands slip out of his grasp and cup his face. It feels very warm, obviously caused by the wide blush on his cheeks.

“Come on, Simeon. Do you think I don’t see the blush you’re trying to ignore? You like this, don’t you?” You tease and rub your thumbs over his cheeks.

“I-it doesn’t really matter if I like it or not, it’s not allowed. In order to represent the goodwills of the celestial realm, all angels, no matter their rank, have to abide by the same rules. It’s our law,” his voice almost makes it sound like he’s begging you.

“But it’s just a small touch to your waist. Why is that so prohibited?” Your hands somehow find their way back to his sensitive sides, making him shiver yet again, “I’ve hugged you here many times before, why is this any different?”

“B-because this obviously is way different than a hug, this is… this is… this is dangerous,” he bites his lip and grabs your wrists to pull your hands away yet again.

“Why is it so dangerous? It’s just a touch~,” you whisper teasingly in his ear.

“You know what you’re doing. I told you, you can’t do this, it’s… ah…” he freezes as a small moan leaves him. Did he… did he really just? You smirk sinisterly, “Oh?~ what was that noise for?”

“I-it was nothing, now please, let go of me,” he tries even harder to get your teasing hands off his body, but it’s clearly unsuccessful. He gets more and more frantic as your fingers inch up his body.

“Ah! P-please, you can’t do this, if the higher ups find out I gave into something frivolous like this, I’ll get in so much trouble,” he begs and squirms under your touch. It felt so wrong, so clearly wrong. A pure angel like him being touched in such a risqué way like this, he had to do something before he made an even worse mistake.

Suddenly, you feel your hands yanked off his body as he darts out from the vulnerable position against the bookcase in a symphony of fluttering feathers. You look over to your left to see a very flustered Simeon racing for the door.

“Simeon, I wouldn't do that if I were you. If anyone else sees you like that, you’ll ask questions. And besides, I know you’ve got to be at least curious,” you state quickly in hopes to catch him in time before he escapes. He freezes yet again, you were clearly right. His breathing was ragged, his cheeks were stained wine red, his pupils were dilated. The only thing he could do was try to escape but risk bumping into someone else, or stay here with you and risk falling into your advances. But… your advances… Even though he knew it’s dangerous, he seemed rather intrigued. He weighs his options and reluctantly lets go of the door handle.

“Just… don’t go around telling any of the others about this. I don’t want to lose my position,” he sighs as he walks over to the couch and sits down.

“Fine with me. This can just stay between us,” you smile sweetly and rest a hand against his thigh. It was pretty exhilarating thinking that you’ll be this Angel’s first taste of something sinful. He looks at you with fearfully innocent eyes as you shift over onto his lap. You were so close, he swears he could almost feel your heartbeat. As your hands found purchase on his waist yet again, his mind called out to him. This was clearly wrong, clearly inappropriate for an Angel like him. He was supposed to be a being above desires and vices, he was supposed to set an example for humans and angels alike. Maybe, just maybe if he held out a bit longer, he could find another opening to escape. He could quickly run out of the door and hide out in the kitchen for a while until his aroused body finally calmed down. Yes, that’s just what he will do-

His thoughts dissolved like melted butter as your sinful fingers slid under his skin tight black shirt and by the gods did it set his souls alight. His breathing picked up as a whimper escaped his lips.

“Wha.. what… are you…” he could barely stammer out a complete sentence as your fingers inched further and further up. He looked completely dazed, biting his lip, eyes unforced, chest heaving. It was absolutely gorgeous.

“Oh? Has the pure angel Simeon lost the ability to speak already? Too lost in the feelings of desire?” You teased him. So cruel, worse than cruel; he was helpless and vulnerable under you and you were enjoying it. He felt weak, like such a weak angel for allowing a human to come onto him like this and even go so far as to enjoy it. His body was sending mixed messages to him, to both run away and give in at the same time.

“Ngh,” he gasps as he realizes how dangerously close your fingertips were getting to his chest. No, no no he can’t let this happen. If you touch him there, there’s absolutely no way he’s going to be able to fight back. His trembling hands try to reach up for your wrists.

“Please… don’t.. n-not there…” he begged with an airy voice.

“Shhhh pretty angel, just relax. There’s no use fighting this, just let me show you the world of pleasure you’ve been missing out on,” you smirk down at him, causing him to gulp nervously. Pleasure? H-he can’t, he can’t give in to one of the major deadly sins like pleasure. He has to be strong, for him, for his friends, for every being in the celestial realm.

He whines and tries to squirm free, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Can't give into this, I’m an Angel, I’m an Angel, I’m an…” his eyes almost roll back as the pads of your fingers finally reach his delicate chest, gently swiping over his nipples. An elicit moan finally leaves his mouth as his brain turns to mush.

“See? Isn’t it good?” You coo and cup the expanses of his chest. Is this really what he’s been fighting against for oh how many years? This feeling… it’s euphoric… so strangely euphoric, like nothing this poor angel has ever felt. Why does it feel so good? It’s just his chest. Another louder whiny moan escapes him as you press harder.

“You really haven’t been touched anywhere like here before, have you? Have you been fighting it back or have you just never felt the urge to have these places touched?” You whisper vulgarly in his ear.

“Angels… are supposed… to suppress these feelings… never give in… or else it’s a sin…” he explains in between heavy breaths, “When I… would feel… like touching… I… would just read a book… until it goes away…”

“Aw, that sounds so annoying. Have you been close to giving in before?” You smirk as you give a small squeeze to his chest, delighted as the moan you're gifted with.

“Nghhh... hah… mhm. I’ve gotten… close… on days where uh… uh…” he stammers, looking away shyly.

“Come on, if you tell me the truth, I’ll reward you?” You coo to him. Reward…? That sounds interesting.

“Well uh… on days where I would feel… especially p-pent up, I… I would… sometimes have thoughts… of… someone… helping me with it…” he admits, clearly ashamed of himself for having such fantasies as an Angel.

“Ohhh?~ So you fantasize about someone coming along and relieving you of your impure urges?~” You hum fondly, a spark of excitement enters your mind. Could it be possible he had a…

“Would you like to tell me more about this particular idea?” You ask sweetly, rolling his hardened nipples in between your fingers.

“Aghh… hah… that feels… ah, a-anyways, it’s not really something I think I should say out loud. It’s rather… profane…” he mumbled with embarrassment. What kind of angel was he, being groped by a human and telling them his dirty fantasies? It’s so wrong but… something about the wrongness of it all causes him to twitch desperately in his tight slacks. Your eyes widen as you feel the twitch and press right against your backside.

“Hehehe, you’re a dirtier angel than I thought,” you tease as you squeeze his nipples, “Don’t tell me you like being touched like this? Does it excite you?” You tease as you give his nipples a light squeeze. His eyes shut tight as he whines.

“Mmm… I wonder. You’ve had your chances to escape and you’re definitely capable enough to overpower me, yet here you are, laying still as I taint your pure body. Why could that be…” you faint a curious expression as you tease the poor angel even further. You're pretty sure you know the reason why, but using the truth against him to exploit him a little more is far more interesting. You press your thumbs harshly against his nipples.

“Aghhhhh.. p-please…” he has no idea if he’s begging for you to be gentle or rougher.

“I think I’ll just let actions speak louder than words~” you smirk devilishly as you finally give an experimental grind of your hips down onto his aching erection. Simeon feels every nerve in his body light on fire with a burning passion, releasing an embarrassing loud moan as he grasps your waist. Your smirk widens as his lovely reaction; it was everything you could have hoped it would be. Desires of lust surge through his body, all the temptations he's resisted for millennia return to him full force to leave his poor, desperate body aching for relief.

“Mmmm someone’s pent up, look at how hard you are,” one of your hands sneaks down to pull down his white pants and expose his throbbing dick. He groans, it’s so fucking hard and leaking everywhere, it’s so embarrassing.

“You've been trying to resist it for so long, what would happen if I…” you sinisterly brush a finger over the tip as it twitches even harder.

“Aaghh… ahhh…” He moans.

“Oh? Did that feel good?” He coo.

“Ahhah… ahhh… y-yeah… d-damn… I can’t believe… this is happening…” he internally curses himself for falling victim to you. He watches weakly as your hand wraps around it and starts pumping him slowly. This feeling, oh gods, this feeling is something he’s dreamed about for so long. He knew he shouldn’t but having to ignore it for so long has put some rather perverted thoughts in his mind. And all those daydreams and fantasies were finally coming true. He couldn’t hide the goofy smile on his face as your hand squeezes harder.

“Hehehe~ I guess instead of fantasizing about an unknown face helping you with your urges, it will be my face instead,” you cooed, greeted with a deep groan in response.

“Oh? You like that? Like it when I say you’ll only be able to think of me and this moment from now on?” You chuckle as his hips jump up to catch your strokes. He nods, completely lost in the pleasure.

“Am I going to make you obsessed? Is that what it is?” You move your panties to the side as soon as his head leans back.

“Yeah… ahh… ah! Aghh?! W-wait, is that your?” He whines loudly as your dripping, gorgeous pussy rubs over his tip. He hates to say the lords name in vain but god fucking damn it… it felt so, so good. He wants to push in, he wants to feel it squeeze, he desperately wants to go in. His poor, one pure mind is only filled with thoughts and urges to sink his aching dick into your mouth-wateringly tight and wet pussy. He wants it, so, so bad, please, please give it to him. He doesn’t care what happens, he needs it too bad. And as soon as you grant his wishes and sit down on him, he keens. His nails dig into your hips as he thrusts into you like a desperate animal in rut. He doesn’t even know fully what he’s doing, he just needs to fuck, more than anything this world has to offer.

“Aghhh someone’s being eager, couldn’t even wait Ahh, a little bit longer. Aghh you’re so big… aghhh, just keep going,” you wrap your arms around his neck and ride his dick with all the strength you’ve been holding back, lifting your body up and sliding back down.

“Nghh- Hahh, Aaghhhh!!~” Simeon moans in between sobs and heavy pants, flipping you over so your face presses into the velvety couch and your ass is raised right into the air. You look so alluring, so vulnerable like that… he can’t control himself as he mounts you and pushes his twitching cock into your quivering pussy. He sobs and cries as he clings to your hips. Even if this stopped for just a second he thinks he might die. It’s just so good, so tight, so warm. He just needs more, more, more, he can’t help himself anymore.

“Aghhh please please please, I can’t stop, can’t stop!!~” he cries out as he goes impossibly faster, making your eyes roll back as he fucks right against your cervix. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he pushed in further and further, losing the last remaining traces of purity.

“I’m sorry… aghhhhh I-I’m sor… sorryyy… aghhhh!~” His voice cracks as he humps your pussy faster and faster, toes curling each time it squeezes around him. Could this be the message the book was trying to give him? What kind of message even was this? He doesn’t even know anymore, all he knows is he needs to keep thrusting into you until his desires finally relax.

Little did he know this was just the start of it all. He realized it as soon as his hot cum stained the walls of your cunt. This wouldn't be enough for him. It would never be enough. He fucked you over and over and over again, on almost every since surface he could find in his room, trying to relieve the prominent desire that itched just below his skin. He just couldn’t stop, the poor angel was completely enthralled by you, he just couldn’t control it. As your blurry eyes, aching with tears looked back up at the once sweet face that would always smile back at you, you instead saw a darkened, lustful face staring back at you with new light green and black horns standing proudly on his head and a pair of jet black feathered wings fluttering behind him. Maybe playing a prank on him wasn’t such a good idea, you thought to yourself as you felt his dick growing inside of you.

“Aghhh… so good… never… gonna stop…” He heaved as he squeezed your hips harder.

But you gotta admit, it felt good as hell. Its length stretched you out so well, reaching the deepest parts of your pussy your fingers could only dream of touching. You couldn’t stop cumming, over and over again, you were honestly beginning to lose consciousness.

In your delirious state of ecstasy, you pick up on the slight turning of the door handle out of the corner of your eye. On the other side of the door, Solomon was mere seconds away from walking in on an angel falling victim to sin.

“S-Simeo- aghhh simeon t-the d- nghh the door!!” You stammer out between strained moans but it’s already too late.

“N-ngh?” Simeon’s head snapped over to the white haired man that entered the room. His wings immediately wrapped around the two of you to block your leaking bodies from the intruder's view. His scared, sharp eyes peeled from in between his feathers as they ruffled in intimation, releasing a soft growl. Yet through all of this he kept up the same back breaking pace against you poor, abused pussy.

“Uhhhhh… is this a bad time?” Solomon snickered bashfully as a sweltering dark aura surrounded him. In retaliation, a blinding light radiated from Simeon’s eyes and glittering white feathers circled around him. You whined nervously at the impending fight that seemed ready to explode at any second, till suddenly, in a flash of dark red and pink energy, Simeon was wrapped tightly in thorny, blood tinted vines. He groaned in pain before his thrusts came to a halt and his head slumped over.

“Phew, that could have gone a whole lot worse. I have no clue what you two were doing in here and I don’t think I wanna ask. Hope it was fun though,” he started walking back out the door, “Oh, one thing. Because of the magic I used, he might be a bit… ‘excited’ when he wakes up. Just give him a good ‘release’ and he’ll knock right out. When he wakes up again he'll be right back to normal. Good luck, my pupil~” he gave a delightful wave before leaving you all alone with the problem you created. With a shiver you gently tried to cup his cheek, only to jump back at the bright pink eyes that flashed open. He easily ripped apart the vines and smirked at you with a look of pure dominance, a look in pure contrast to the sweet smiles he used to give you.

His voice came out as a low growl, “You… look… delicious. I… need you… so fucking bad right now…” a terrifying shiver shook your body in place.

As Solomon blissfully skipped down the hallway with his hands in his pockets, he chuckled to himself when he heard your screams of fear and pleasure rattling the walls.

“Hehe, those two must be having fun. Maybe I’ll get to join them next time~”

Reblog + Comment + Like if you wanna see more obey me or Simeon specific posts!~

(Phewww finally done and kinda happy with it! Next is either thirteen or another idea I’ve had recently~ you’ll find out soon enough <3 also comment if you wanna join or leave tag list)

{Tags 🏷️: @letgobro }

[sweetdreamsofgelato]

Intrusive Thoughts

(gif from google)

Pairing: Henry x Reader (You)

Summary: Henry's feeling self-critical. Hurt/Comfort; fluff with mildly spicy undertones; see author's note below

Rating: T/M just to be safe

Word Count: 1378

Warnings/Content: RPF; mild references to body image issues/body dysmorphia

A/N:

I saw this post earlier reblogged by @itsrubberbisquit and this is me giving Henry an internet hug 🥺

It's barely edited. I'm quite literally yeeting this into the hellscape and running.

Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own.

Reposting my works on any other sites or platforms is strictly prohibited (my official AO3 is linked in my master list). Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

“Henry! What’s going on? I keep hearing thumping.” 

You swung the bedroom door wide to find Henry standing in front of the wall-to-wall wardrobes, the once neatly organised contents of which were haphazardly spilt forth across every surface. A soft, woollen jumper dangling from a lone hanger fell onto a pile beneath it. You caught Henry’s eye in the full-length mirror as he let out a low, frustrated growl and ripped his shirt over his head.

“What in the world happened in here?”

“I’ve nothing to wear. Everything looks awful.” He threw the crumpled shirt in his hands across the room.

“Ah, I beg to differ…” you replied, your eyes scanning the debris and then him. “On both accounts.”

“Nothing fits!” Hurt underscored the annoyance in his tone. “I’m spilling over my trousers and everything makes me look…lumpy.” His fingers pinched at the perfectly normal amount of flesh above his waistband. 

His struggle, whilst not new, was clear and your heart ached for him. Was his body as chiselled as it appeared on screen? No, but that’s because he was sufficiently fed and hydrated as he ought to be. 

The unhealthy lengths actors went to for what passed as on-screen perfection were no secret and a constant point of contention. The industry only fed his insecurities, and you always butted heads over his insistence to adhere to the ridiculous standards for the sake of remaining competitive. The extremity of the comments and practices made you worry about the toll on his mental and physical health. It was terrible and you had a mind to find every person who was rude or unnecessarily critical of his appearance and give them a proper verbal thrashing. 

Instead, you sighed and walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso. You pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades before resting your cheek against the warm expanse of his back and murmured, “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Henry.” 

Henry let out a disbelieving grunt. “I’ve taken too much time off at the gym. I need to get back to the grind.” He squeezed your hands as he manoeuvred out of your embrace. “Also, have you seen the state of these wrinkles?” He leaned in and inspected his face in the mirror. “I need to do something about them. Perhaps some new skincare. Maybe do something with my hair too. Too many greys…” he muttered to himself as he toed through piles of clothes until he found a pair of joggers and quickly changed. He snapped the waistband and grimaced.

You took a steadying breath and quelled the rage that welled in your chest. It wasn’t directed at Henry; it was reserved for every twat who ever made him feel unworthy in any way. 

“Sit,” you said, rather more firmly than you intended.

“Sorry?” he asked, confused.

“Sit.” You pushed the clothes off the edge of the bed and patted the downy duvet. “Please.”

Henry gave you a curious look as he pulled a hoodie over his head and shuffled to the end of the bed. You promptly stood between his knees, pointed to his lap and asked, “May I sit?”

He smirked. “I’ll be sorely disappointed if you don’t.”

Rather than letting him cradle you into his arms, you planted one knee on either side of his hips and straddled his lap. His sharp inhale signalled his surprise, but the sly wing of his eyebrow indicated he was not disappointed and was—you hoped—sufficiently distracted as well.

“Well, this is unexpected,” he murmured as his hands slowly ran the length between your knees and hips. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your bottom. 

You squirmed. Henry made an approving noise in this throat and your brain fought your baser urges for domain. You wrapped your arms around his neck and settled into a comfortable position. “Calm down, Cavill.” 

Henry groaned into your ear. “You’re not making it easy.”

“Good.” You ground down on his lap for good measure. “That’s payback for the cheeky arse-grab.” He shamelessly groped you again and you laughed. “Stop. I have something to say and you’re going to listen.”

“I do appreciate when you take charge.” His lust-darkened eyes flicked to your lips and his tongue darted out to moisten his own. “Is it something sexy?”

“Henry…” you warned, mostly because if he kept looking at you like that, your mind would cease functioning altogether.

“Ok, fine.” Henry’s hands gently rested on your hips. “I’ll be good…for now.”

You dropped a quick kiss on the tip of his nose and speared your fingers through his hair. Henry always let it grow out when on a break and toying with the soft curls was a favourite pastime. He hummed contentedly, his head dropping back as his eyes fluttered shut.

“I love your hair,” you said, “and every grey one is a uniquely special thread of wisdom marking the passage of time.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but they crinkled at the edges with humour. “How poetic.”

You scrunched your nose and gently tugged on an errant curl. “Shush. I’m trying to flatter you.”

He suppressed a smile and pulled you in closer. “Do continue.”

“And these,” your fingertips traced the delicate creases across his forehead and around the corners of his eyes and mouth, “are a record of all your happy memories, imprinted each time you laugh wholeheartedly and your smile reaches your eyes.” 

Henry awkwardly cleared his throat and sounded somewhat embarrassed to be under your scrutiny. “You’re making me blush.”

He wasn’t lying. You smiled smugly at the tinges of pink dusting his cheekbones. 

“Good.”

You kneaded his tense shoulders and followed down the hard lines of his biceps until his muscles relaxed. Your hands snaked under his hoodie and you indulged in a bit of tender groping of your own. The colour in his cheeks deepened. His throat bobbed and his lips parted, and it took every ounce of your will not to nip at them with your teeth. 

“When I look at you, I see the strength of will and your determination, but also the softness of finding simple pleasures that life would be meaningless without.” 

He flinched when you smoothed over the supple sides of his abdomen. “I’m pretty sure that’s last Sunday’s roast.”

“Which was utterly delicious,” you answered without hesitation, placing a kiss on the side of his neck. “You spent all day preparing that magnificent feast and deserved to enjoy every bite.”

“I did, but—”

“No buts, and I’m not done admiring.”

He tsked. “You’re bossy.”

“And you love it.”

“You may be right,” he grumbled.

You extracted your hands and brought them to cradle his face, tracing a thumb over his bottom lip and across his sharp jawline. Henry’s gaze finally met yours. Behind the fiery want, you knew he battled with his demons and you wanted nothing more than to help him vanquish them. 

Your forehead rested against his as your hand drifted down and stopped in the centre of his chest. “But the best bit is that none of that really matters because the most beautiful thing about you is right here. No matter what you look like, you’ve got a heart that loves fiercely and endlessly, and I’m thankful every day that it loves me.”

“Jesus…” Henry’s voice wobbled under a sudden rush of emotion. He yanked you against his chest, nestled his face into the curve of your neck and breathed deeply. 

A protracted silence settled as you held him, gently stroking the base of his neck as he processed. When he finally looked up, he was blinking back the moisture that threatened to spill over. He brought your hands to his lips and gingerly kissed your palms. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You don’t need to do or be anything to deserve love, Henry. You are, just as you are, and I can't help but love you.”

Henry dragged your lips to his and kissed you so long and hard that you risked becoming a barely sentient puddle. He released your mouth with a gasp, his voice ragged as he asked, “Do I have permission to grab your arse now?”

“Oh, yes,” you laughed, pulling his mouth back to yours. “Please do.”

[holb32]

The Hound and the Lioness

Sandor Clegane x fem!reader - Smut -

Part One!

Summary - Gianna Lannister is the youngest daughter of Tywin Lannister from his second wife Lynnette Stark. When Gia rushes in to help Sansa Stark, after her nephew humiliates her, the king suddenly has a 'brilliant' idea... or so he says.

A/N - This is only the second time I've done something like this... so bare with me please.

WARNINGS - If you are UNDER 18 then DO NOT read! Forced marriage, loss of virginity, blow job, blood, PIV, maybe breeding kink and size kink, literally has no plot just doing this coz I had an idea! If I've missed anything that should be added as a warning then please let me know!

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Gianna watched from the crowd that had gathered in the throne room, as Joffrey terrorised poor Sansa Stark, again.

"You're here to answer for your brother's latest crimes. What do you have to say?" Joffrey aimed his armed crossbow at the Stark girl as she kneeled before him.

"Your Grace, whatever my traitor brother has done, I had no part in it!" The poor girl began to sob, "You know this, Your Grace. I beg-" Joffrey had cut her off before she could finish, Ser Lancel, tell her what her brother has done!" Demanded Joffrey.

As Ser Lancel stepped forwards, so did Gianna. She always knew something wasn't right with her eldest nephew. He was evil, one of the evilest beings she's ever come across. Gia was appalled with his actions and about the fact that no one could make him stop, not even his mother.

"Using some vile sorcery your brother fell on Stafford Lannister with an army of wolves." Lancel announced. Gianna couldn't understand how people actually believe this stuff. So she rolled her eyes and mentally face palmed herself, ridiculous fools, she thought to herself.

"Thousands of good men were slaughtered, after the butchering, the Northmen feasted on the meat of the slain." This made the crowd surrounding them gasp and whisper in horror. War was a dreadful thing, Gianna knew that, but she really couldn't see that happening. At least not on Robb Stark's orders or his mothers. When she first met them, when she went with her older sister Cersei and her family to Winterfell, she'd gotten on well with the Starks.

"Killing you would, mayhaps, send your traitor brother a message." Gianna snapped out of her thoughts at that, surely he's not really contemplating that? The poor Stark girl began to weep, "But my mother insists on keeping you alive, unfortunately. Stand." Sansa stood at the king's orders, ever the obedient Lady Stark. Gianna's pity for the girl grew day by day. She didn't deserve this, no one did.

"So, we'll just have to send your brother a message some other way." Gianna took another step forward, just so she stood slightly out of the crowd, as if she might run towards young Lady Stark, she was family after all, distant but still family. "Meryn." The unspoken order was spoken and Joffrey's favoured Kingsguard stepped towards Sansa, "Leave her face, I like her pretty." And with that Sansa was punched to the stomach.

Gianna gasped and tried to step forwards, but before anyone could truly notice, her handmaid Dalia grabbed her arm, "No, my Lady. I do not think it wise to step in." Gia didn't take her eyes off Sansa. Meryn took out his sword and struck the backs of her legs, so she fell to the floor.

"Meryn, my dear lady's over-dressed. Unburden her." The Knight stood behind poor Sansa and ripped the back of her dress open, "If you want Robb Stark to hear us, we're going to have to speak louder!" Ser Meryn took out his sword again, swinging it over his head, "What is the meaning of this?"

The crowd split to allow Gianna's brother, Tyrion Lannister, to make his way through along with his man Bronn. "What kind of Knight beats a helpless girl!" Snaps Tyrion. "The kind who serves his king, Imp!" Meryn Snapped back. Gianna hated that man, he was just as vile and cruel as her nephew. "Careful now, we wouldn't want to get blood all over your pretty white cloak." Bronn, even though he irritated Gia sometimes with his crude words, managed to shut the Knight up.

"Would someone get the girl something to cover herself with." Gianna and Sandor 'The Hound' stepped forward towards Sansa. "It's alright sweet girl, Tyrion will handle Joffrey." Whispered the young Lannister Lady as the Hound grabbed his White Cloak over her shoulders.

"She's to be your queen. Do you have no regard towards her honour?" Questioned Tyrion, "I'm punishing her!" Tyrion gaped, "For what crimes? She's not fighting her brother battles you half wit!" Gianna helped Sansa stand, wrapping the girl in her arms.

"Your behaviour is despicable, Nephew! She's done nothing wrong!" Gia shouted. The Stark girl shook in the Lannister Lady's arms. "Neither of you can speak to me like that! The king can do as he likes!" Again Lady Lannister rolled her eyes, "The Mad King did as he liked! Look where that got him! Killed by his own guard, his people rebelled against him. Is that what you want to be done to you? For people a hundred years from now to remember you as the king who beat helpless Ladies?" Snapped Gianna, turning to her brother, "Perhaps they'll title him 'The Half-wit King', brother?" The people in the room sniggered and gasped. Gia swore she heard The Hound huff amusingly behind her.

"No one threatens his Grace in the presence of the kingsguard!" Meryn rushed towards Gianna, threateningly. "I'm not threatening him, Ser. I'm merely giving my nephew some... advice." Gianna didn't bother to look at Ser Meryn. "Bronn the next time Ser Meryn speaks, kill him." Tyrion said in a bored manner, turing to Ser Meryn, "Now that was a threat... see the difference?!" Gia chuckled at her older brother, they'd always been close, even since she was a little girl.

Tyrion walked towards his little sister and Sansa, leading them away. "I apologise for my nephew's behaviour. Tell me the truth, do you want this wedding to happen?" Spoke Tyrion softly, "We could try to get the engagement broken, if you'd like?" Gia rubbed the girls shoulders and they walked, "I am loyal to king Joffrey-" Stated Sansa, pulling out of Gianna's arms, "He is my one true love." With that she walked ahead of them, her ladies maids following her.

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Gianna was summoned back to the throne room, a couple hours later. As she walked in she realised that the crowd had only gotten bigger. At the throne sat her nephew, on both sides of him were his mother, Gianna's only and older sister, and the hand, who was Gianna's father. At the bottom of the stairs to the throne stood the kingsguard.

"You summoned me, Your Grace." Gianna stood before her family. She had changed into a more comfortable dress, since she was planning to go horse riding after. "Yes, I did." Signed Joffrey. "Tell me, Dear Aunt. Do you think the way you spoke to me earlier was appropriate? Especially of a Lady." Questioned the king.

Gianna looked towards her father at that moment, his face was emotionless. So she looked towards her kingsguard brother, he looked nervous for her. "I said what I thought to be true, Your Grace." She wouldn't lie. He needed to be told. Cersei scoffed, "You're king deserves more respect from you." Gianna rolled her eyes, "DO NOT ROLL YOUR EYES AT ME!" Screeched Cersei. "My apologise, sister."

"You know, I'll have to punish you." Gia's heart began to race. Surely her father wouldn't allow that. She was his daughter, and she knew he favoured her out of all his children. Looking towards him again she saw that his face was still, emotionless.

"You see, I've had a few hours to... come up with your punishment. Mother helped me." They both chuckled. "You're young, unmarried, pretty. What better punishment is there than to marry you to a... hound." The crowd gasped at their king's words. Joffrey laughed hysterically. "Mother's always calling you a bitch, so it seems quite fitting! Don't you think?!" I glanced towards 'The Hound' . He stood tall, but you could tell he was angry.

"Your Grace I don't think that's-" Tywin tried to reason with his grandson, he didn't want to drag his house through the mud again. "Silence!'' shouted Joffrey. "Hound stand by your bride to be!" Sandor reluctantly moved to stand beside Gianna. "The Hound and his bitch. He's so massive I'm sure he'll split her open when he takes her maidenhead!" Gianna looked down in shame at being spoken about in such a way.  

“Your wedding will be the day after tomorrow.” With that Joffrey excused everyone. Gianna quickly left the throne room, rushing to her chambers. Tears were dripping down her face as threw herself on her bed; her head buried in her arms. 

[talksliketherain]

Rowan Laslow - Hurt

Background- Rowan and Y/n have been best friends forever and they both have feelings for one another but are oblivious to it. Recently he's been going to Nightshade meetings more often, leaving y/n alone to fill her own time.

Not proof read!! Please do not post my work to any other sites or steal it!! If you have any requests dm me!

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Third person Pov-

Y/n and Rowan sat in his dorm, finishing up their project for botany. Rowan hated botany. He had no special interest in plants or flowers or nature of any sort. But he knew y/n did. He looked up at her, observing her squinting her eyes in focus at the drawing she had been working on.

The two had practically grown up together. Before Rowan's mother died, she was best friends with Y/n's aunt, who y/n lived with. After his mother died he began spending a lot more time at the L/n household. His father wasn't too interested in what Rowan did, and kind of detested him because of how much he resembled his mom.

Nevertheless, Y/n and her aunt took Rowan in. He even had his own room at their house.

At about age 13, he began to realize he was deeply in love with her. Since he practically lived with her he got to see all sides of her. This included seeing her sob after her first heartbreak, laugh until she couldn't breathe, and get so mad to the point where she was quite literally red in the face.

He adored every side. He adored everything about her.

He snapped back into reality, hearing her call his name in that voice that drove him nuts.

"Rowan?" she asked, trying to get his attention.

He mentally screamed at the sound of her saying his name.

"Sorry what?"

"I asked what you think about the drawing."

"Oh. Sorry."

He turned his head to observe the picture. They were assigned a tiger lily. His mouth opened a little bit. The drawing was perfect.

"Wow. That's really good. You're gonna give Xavier a run for his money."

Y/n blushed at the compliment. She had been doing her best at trying to make the drawing look as good as possible. She didn't want rowan to think she was incapable.

Just recently she had caught feelings for the Laslow boy. She never really paid him much mind before until earlier in the year. She saw him get hurt during fencing and went with him to the nurse's office. Seeing him there with his hair perfectly parted to the side, glasses sitting perfectly on his nose, and sleeves rolled up a little made her want to die. She thought back to that moment at least twice a day.

She tried forgetting about the skip in her heart when she saw him at that moment, but couldn't push it out of her head. About two weeks ago, she realized she was madly in love with him and gave in to her feelings.

"Thanks, Row. Now I just have to color it in." She looked up at him, sucking in a breath realizing how close they were.

"I could do that part. I mean you pretty much just did the whole thing." he chuckled.

"Uhh. Okay yeah, go ahead."

"Great. I'll finish it before it's due next Monday."

Rowan suddenly realized how close he was to the girl. He didn't want to be weird, so he scooted back as subtly as possible when he put the drawing in his bag.

Y/n frowned at the movement. She had thought that just maybe he was that close on purpose. Guess he was too close for comfort.

Rowan had taken off his jacket and was just in his button-up and vest. Y/n watched his back muscles contract as he leaned down to put his stuff away. Fencing sure did pay off.

He sat up and caught the girl zoned out, staring at his back.

"...You okay?"

"Wha- uh yeah. I'm great. Fantastic actually", Y/n said, hoping it wasn't too noticeable that she was staring at him.

He nodded and picked his bag up, slinging it over his shoulder. Y/n knew what was coming. The two had this unspoken thing with each other where they gave a hug whenever the other left. Recently she had been dreading this. Every touch they shared sent an electric pulse through her body.

She sighed, looking up at him with a sad face.

"Do you have to go?"

Rowan looked down to hide the crimson blush that he could feel spread across his face. They used to hang out all the time, but ever since Rowan joined the Nightshades he had been spending less and less time with the girl. In his defense, he was working on building up the courage to ask the others if she could join. Until then, he had to keep it a secret from you. He didn't know why he was so nervous. They all loved you anyway.

"Yeahhh. Xavier needed me to tutor him for algebra."

"Ah. Okay. Well..bye."

She stood up and mentally prepared herself for what was to come.

When did he get so tall?

He pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her neck. She wrapped hers around his waist, face right in his chest. They stood there for a moment just holding each other.

They both inhaled. As y/n took in the smell of Rowan's light cologne mixed with fresh cold air, he took in the smell of her green apple shampoo and conditioner. Her hair products frequently changed, so he was always excited to see what she chose this time.

Even though they both grew extremely nervous about this hug every time it came, it was addicting. Neither of them could get enough. It was like an excuse just to touch each other based on a tradition from when they were kids. They both mentally cursed and thanked their past kid selves for it. It had grown to mean so much more.

"Sure you don't wanna stay? I'm gonna sneak out and go into Jericho for some coffee and snacks.."

Rowan tried to think of an excuse. He felt bad for ditching their usual hang-out together (again..), but this was the meeting he would ask if she could join. They would finally be able to join each other again.

"I can't. His test is coming up soon. No time to waste."

"Right. Okay. Bye Rowan."

"Bye Y/n"

_________________

Rowan closed the door behind him and immediately felt sick. He knew Y/n was upset with him, but it would all be worth it after tonight.

But he just kept thinking.

Maybe if you got the courage to ask sooner you wouldn't have to feel this way, and she wouldn't be upset.

No. What's done is done. No point in feeling bad about it now. It wasn't like waiting an extra day was gonna kill her.

__________________

Y/n pulled her jacket on and grabbed her wallet in a huff. She knew Rowan wasn't tutoring Xavier for algebra tonight. Xavier was in geometry with her, and their test was yesterday.

Knowing he lied to her angered Y/n. Why would he be ditching her like this? What if there was a girl?

She shook her head trying to shake off the thought of Rowan being in love with someone else. Whatever. Maybe a latte and some chips would get her mind off of this.

She snuck out of the school doors, shivering once she felt the breeze hit her. She knew she should have grabbed Rowan's hoodie he had given her instead but was too stubborn to wear something of his right now when he had pissed her off so badly.

She began heading through the woods, observing her surroundings. She had always felt one with nature. It was peaceful to her.

As her journey continued, she didn't make it too far in before she heard a low growl.

"Enid?" she asked wearily.

Enid was always messing around with her like this. Even though she hadn't wolfed out yet, she had still always had a knack for growling and scaring the girl.

She heard it again.

"Enid come on this isn't funny. Come out!" she demanded.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as a strange creature crawled out of the darkness.

Y/n immediately started sprinting back toward the school. She had almost reached the front lawn when she felt her legs give out from under her. She was pulled back by her leg and flipped over until she felt the violent stabbing pain of the creature clawing open the skin on her chest and legs. She screamed as loud as she could, hoping someone would find her and come help. Her adrenaline got the best of her, as she was frozen in shock and fear. She suddenly snapped back to reality when the monster had finished with her.

She felt the burning of the wounds and the wetness of the blood seeping through her clothes in the cold night air. She couldn't scream anymore, and the blood rushing out of her drained her energy. She reached down and slowly pulled out her phone, pressing Rowan's contact to call him. Even though she had been mad, she needed him right now, and he was the closest thing to family around here.

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Rowan looked down at his phone repeatedly buzzing in her pocket. His face lit up with joy seeing Y/n's contact. He had already asked and received the blessing for her to join the club he was buzzing with excitement. When he asked everyone look at him like he was stupid.

"Dude, why didn't you just ask before? We love having her around. I'm surprised she isn't already one of us." Xavier said.

He got a bunch of different "yeah" and "Duh of course" from the entire group. Easy enough then. He had just sat down and started drinking a mocktail Yoko had made. He was just about to text and ask if he could come to her dorm because he had good news when he got her call.

Rowan picked up the phone and held it to his ear.

"Hey, I was just about t-"

He stopped. He heard sobbing from the girl and immediately stood up, already on edge.

"Y/n what's wrong? Is everything alright?"

"I...need help. Now. Monster...attacked..me... "

"Ooooh My god. Okay. OKAY. IM COMING. Send me your location I'm on my way."

"O...K...." Y/n sobbed.

Rowan hung up and took his robe off. It was time to go. NOW. He didn't even bother explaining to the others. He rushed out and ran towards the location you had sent him.

He made his way toward the edge of the campus lawn, finding you passed out on the grass. Not considering the circumstances, you looked peaceful. Your long eyelashes over top your cheeks and the moonlight above you shone across your face.

But Rowan didn't have time to think about that. He had to act fast.

"Fuck fuck fuck" he quickly used his telekinetic powers to lift you into the air and had you floating behind him as he broke out into a jog to the nurse.

He got to the nurse and quickly explained what happened. The nurse told him to go get her clothes as she tore off the bloodied ones and cleaned the poor girl up.

Rowan rushed down to your dorm and flipped the light on. Yoko was your roommate, and she was still at the meeting so he didn't have to worry about disturbing anyone. He went through the items in your closet, knowing you would want something to be comfortable in. He grabbed a tank top and shorts, knowing you also might not want anything touching your stitched-up wounds.

He grabbed some of your things along the way, knowing you would be spending at least a couple of days in the infirmary. On the way out he spotted his hoodie laying across a chair. He grabbed that too.

Turning the light off and shutting the door, Rowan rushed back, waiting to see what your state was.

He entered the door and handed the nurse your stack of clothes through the curtain. He didn't want to look in and invade your privacy. He tried talking to the nurse through the curtains. He was very impatient.

"How is she? Is she going to be okay? What's going on?" he asked frantically.

"Well she lost a lot of blood, and she's going to need MANY stitches. As of right now, I'm not sure when or if she'll wake up. But ill let you know..." she responded.

He sucked in a breath and held it for a second. This was all his fault. If he asked sooner or left the meeting earlier, or just stayed with you, this would have never happened. He let a single tear roll down his cheek but quickly wiped it away.

For the next couple of hours, all he did was wait. The nurse finally came out.

"She'll make it. But she'll be out for a while. As I said, Miss L/n lost a lot of blood. She's numbed up for now but she'll be in pain for the next few days. If you want you can go check on her. She's cleaned up."

He let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you so much. Do you mind if I stay with her until she wakes up?"

The nurse smiled at his request. The simple act reminded her that young love still existed. It was a breath of fresh air compared to the cuts and bruises from fights she was constantly healing.

"Go right ahead"

__________________________

Y/n woke up dizzy, but stable. She felt sharp pains and something burning all over her. She lifted the hem of her shirt, seeing bloodied stitches all across her abdomen. She pulled down the waistband of her shorts and saw the same thing on her thighs. Same thing on her arms.

At least I'm alive

She looked over to see Rowan sleeping in a chair next to her bedside. A nurse walked over and checked up on her while y/n stared. The nurse glanced up and looked over to see her looking at him so intently.

"Your boyfriend there stayed with you for the past 2 days. He barely leaves your side. Reminds me of how close my husband and I are."

Y/n didn't want to ruin the moment and tell her it wasn't her boyfriend so she just replied "Yeah we're really close."

The nurse walked away. Since she was awake now and Rowan was asleep, it was her turn to watch over him. She looked over all of him, from the freckles on his face to his cupid's bow. She loved every.single.part.

She was still laying down observing his face when he began to stir. His eyes fluttered open and he lifted off his glasses a little bit to rub his eyes before he fully opened them.

"Hey, you're awake! How do you feel?" he asked.

"Fine. Sore. Thank you for saving me."

"It's the least I could do. You're here because of me in the first place."

"Are you kidding? I understand you had things to do. I was going whether you were there or not. This isn't your fault."

"Listen there's something I need to tell you..."

Y/n raised her eyebrow and slightly nodded, telling him to keep going.

"I'm a part of a secret society here called the Nightshades. Recently we've been having more meetings which is why I've had to ditch our usual time together so much. Last night was especially important because...I asked them if you could join. They said yes. So now we can do our usual hangouts again...I mean. Only if you want."

Her eyes widened at the statement.

"Really? Wow. Yeah, I'd love to join. And to think I thought.." she said the last part a little quieter, realizing she ratted herself out.

"You thought what?"

"Well, I knew you weren't tutoring Xavier. He's in my class. I thought. Well, I thought you were ditching me for a girl."

Rowan laughed at the statement, making y/n slightly glare for laughing at her.

"ME?"

He continued laughing but then saw the serious look on her face. He knew it was time. This may ruin their friendship, but holding on to this anymore would make him explode.

"Y/n, the only girl I want in my life is you. I've been in love with you since we were kids. When I saw you laying there, lifeless on the ground, all I could think about was how I never got to tell you how much you meant to me."

Her eyes went as big as saucers. She never thought he would ever say anything to her like that. She sat forward and stared down at her hands, trying to figure out how to tell him she reciprocated feelings.

Rowan sat in silence, worrying he made her uncomfortable. He stood up from his chair.

"Listen I'm gonna go I don't want you to thin-"

Y/n quickly turned to him, gripping his wrist with one hand to pull him down, the other hand on the back of his neck to pull him in.

As their lips connected they both melted into the kiss. Y/n felt him smile a little, but quickly force it down so he could go back to kissing her. He lifted his hand to her face and rubbed his thumb back and forth across her cheek.

Y/n sat up a little bit to deepen the kiss, trying to push away the immense pain she was feeling on her stomach, but eventually gave in. She sharply inhaled and leaned back to the spot she was in before, breaking contact between the two.

Rowan sat back down in his seat with a dopey smile spread across his face.

Y/n looked at him with what was only recognizable as unconditional love in her eyes.

"Rowan. I'm in love with you too. Every part of you. I've known you for so long, and I can't imagine what my life would be like without you here."

Rowan took her hand in his, drawing little circles on it as they both stared at each other with love in their eyes. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then whispered to her...

"I swear. I will never let anything hurt you ever again, my love."

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AND THATS IT!! Thank you for reading and stay tuned for more updates!

[starsofmilos]

Sweet Escape II (Adrian Chase x reader)

Synopsis: The things you will do for Adrian Chase scared people. 

Chapter two is here!! Once again I’d love to thank @charleetheefictionalfucker​ for sending me this request and collaborating with me on this one as well!! I hope you guys enjoy the series!

Sweet Escape Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of sex, cursing, mental breakdown, mentions of violence

“Honey I’m home!!” You smiled walking outside seeing Adrian setting his briefcase down. 

“Welcome home my love! How was work?” Adrian grinned walking to you giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“It was great would’ve been way better if I was here with you though.” You gave him a small look putting your hands on your hips.

“While that is sweet I love that you work to provide!” He chuckled.

“You could probably do my job way better.”

“Oh I know I can.” Adrian rolled his eyes as the audience laughed. 

“So best to eat now before I have to go on patrol!”

“I know I made you food! Your favorite meatloaf.” Adrian smiled kissing you deeply. 

“Right honey before I forget do we have a anniversary or something coming up?” Adrian shook his head as he served himself.

“Well not that I know of?” 

“Well you put a small note for today on the calendar?” Adrian looked humming.

“Seems like I did..Huh must’ve not been important. Honey I love this, but I gotta get ready.” You nodded as he stood up ripping his clothing off to reveal his Vigilante armor.

The audience laughed as you gave him a small pointed look. 

“Didn’t we talk about this?” Adrian sheepishly smiled shaking his head. 

“I’m sure I would’ve remembered-” You cleared your throat crossing your arms.

“You said I shouldn’t wear my suit under my clothing because one of these days I’m gonna run out of clothes and you’re tired of always stitching my clothes together because I always rip them off.”

“The next time you do it. I’m not fixing it.”

“But honey you’re literal magic! You can do it!” You gave Adrian another look as he slowly backed out of the kitchen.

“Okay be home soon..”

“No goodbye kiss?” Adrian ran back in smacking his lips against yours hard. 

“I’ll be home soon lovely..”

“I’ll be waiting..” 

You used your magic humming as you cleaned up the kitchen stopping when you heard the door bell ringing. 

“Who could that be?..” Opening the door, your eyes widened as you saw your two neighbors standing before you.

“Hello! My name is Dean and this is my friend Jo. It’s a pleasure to meet the new residence to our neighborhood!” He shook your hand enthusiastically as you smiled nervous.

“Wonderful to meet you. I’m a bit confused though? May I ask why you’re here?”

“Oh your husband invited us for dinner.” 

“He did?..” You laughed nervously as Dean nodded. 

“He did. Oh did he not let you know?” It came to you suddenly the calendar.

“Why of course he did! Apologies I seem to have forgotten myself!” You let them in smiling. 

“Perfect! We’ve been dying to just come over and share drinks with new people!” You laughed nervously as they sat down. 

“OH!” You gasped seeing Adrian trying to enter the kitchen window. 

“What?” Dean and Jo’s head snapped to you. Panicking a bit you waved them off using their magic to shut the kitchen doors and blinds.

“Nothing I thought I saw a spider! Yes a spider! I am deathly afraid of them. Let me go get those drinks for you all!!”

Adrian grunted as he heaved himself in before smiling as you barged into the kitchen helping him in.

“Hey honey not much crime tonight-”

“SHH!!” You covered his mouth. “We have guests!” 

Adrian tilted his head confused, “Guest?” You nodded a bit angrily.

“Yes guests that you invited over!” 

“Oh crap! That’s what was on the calendar! I’m so sorry!” You frustratedly waved your arms accidentally knocking a pot over with your magic.

“Is everything alright in there?” Dean’s voice rang through as he walked towards the kitchen.

“Yes!! I accidentally dropped a glass!” 

“Oh let me help!” 

“No!! No I got it!” You anxiously yelled out as Adrian panicked trying to climb back out of the window only to get his foot stuck. Without hesitation, you used your magic pushing him out as Dean walked in.

“Where’s the glass? Don’t want a pretty lady like you cutting yourself.” He winked as you laughed a bit seeing Adrian stand up from the bushes glaring at Dean from behind. 

You coughed using your magic to make his gun disappear as he pulled it out to point it at Dean. Adrian made a small shocked face as you glared at him making a gesture for him to go.

The audience laughed again as John watched from the outside on the screen. Back in the real world outside of Evergreen the team had managed to find a way to see what’s going on inside.

Well John did.

John couldn’t help laughing as Adrian tripped in the bushes once more. 

“This is insane.” Chris murmured watching your ‘show’ through the old tv John had set up. 

“I know..It’s kinda sweet I guess in it’s own way. Making a stupid sitcom for her and Adrian.” Chris nodded as Emilia sighed.

“It’d be more sweet if there wasn’t a town missing.” Adebayo looked still in shock by what she was watching.

“So...is someone making her do this or is someone doing this to her?” She finally spoke watching as you used your magic to make something in the living room fall so Adrian can sneak by.

“It’s weird seeing Vig.” Chris clenched his fist a bit saddened. 

Adebayo sighed seeing her phone buzz. “Shit..”

“What is it?” Emilia asked her confused. 

“Waller is on her way.” 

“Fuck.” The team turned back to the tv just in time to see you serving Dean and Jo wine.

“Might I say this wine of yours is fantastic.” You grinned hearing Dean. 

“Oh thank you! I’ve had it for a while.”

“So where is the husband?” Jo asked as she sat at the dinner table as you grabbed plates to set.

“Oh he’s...” Your eyes widened seeing Adrian rush behind them holding wet clothes.

You had put them to wash earlier. He had nothing to wear. 

“Closer than you think. On his way home. Poor thing was doing overtime! Jo would you and Dean mind grabbing the food from the kitchen I do hope you don’t mind, but it’s meatloaf!” 

They smiled walking to the kitchen as you grabbed Adrian’s arm dragging him to the laundry room. 

“I’m so sorry. I put your clothes to wash!” Adrian groaned a bit hiding his face in your neck.

“What do we do?!” 

“Do you still have your clothing from earlier?” He shook his head sadly. 

“You ripped them off to show your suit.” He nodded as you sighed.

“I told you-”

“I know you wanna say I told you so but now is not the time!”

“Y/N everything alright?” Dean’s voice rang out again.

“Uh yes! Checking on some laundry how rude of me! I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You’re alright sweetheart!”

“Sweetheart? This mother-” You covered Adrian’s mouth as he glared at the door.

You snapped your fingers making his clothing dry. “Can you get changed?” He nodded happily kissing you as you walked out. 

You sighed in relief taking a seat grinning as Adrian walked in adjusting his tie. “Hello! So sorry I’m late you know how work goes!” 

Dean nodded, “Of course and you’re alright your lovely wife was keeping us company. You are one lucky man.”

Adrian smiled bitterly, “Oh I know I am it’s why she’s my wife.” 

You cleared your throat, “Sit dear! Don’t want the food growing cold!” 

He kissed your cheek sending a small smirk to Dean as you stared at him lovingly. Dean smiled a bit bitterly as Jo dug in.

“You have to give me this recipe! This is just delicious!” You grinned waving her off as Adrian nodded excitdely.

“Oh yes! This is my favorite dish of hers! She made it for me on our first date granted she burnt it, but I still ate every single bit appreciating her effort in making me something from scratch.”

You nodded chuckling a bit sadly, “Oddly enough I don’t really know how to cook.I just learned cause Adrian said he was craving homemade food.”

“That’s so sweet.” Dean gave you both a fond look. 

“Ah thanks now let’s continue eating!” Joe nodded. 

“So tell me about yourselves? Where did you guys come from?”

“Adrian is from Evergreen and I am from Gotham.” Jo nodded. 

“You know it’s weird when I heard you guys moved here I was a bit confused when I saw you both.” You tilted your head confused.

“How so?”

“Well Adrian here seemed familiar.” You noticed the way Dean tensed up shaking his head.

“Yeah I told her it was ridiculous. How would she know you both if you just moved in to the neighborhood.” 

Jo shook her head sipping her wine, “No! I swore I saw him before I think it was in the obituary in the newspaper! But then I thought that’s not possible he’s not dead-”

She cut herself off gripping her throat choking on a piece of her food. You looked in concern as Dean smiled shaking his head.

“Stop it.” You turned to him seeing his eyes fester panic and what looked like...

Fear.

“She didn’t mean it! It was a silly joke. Stop it. Please.” His eyes grew watery as Jo looked at him pleading.

Jo fell to the floor coughing trying to get the food out. Tears fell from your eyes as she looked at you scared.

“It won’t happen again. So stop it. Please.” Dean couldn’t stop smiling and chuckling.

You glanced at Adrian who looked scared. You didn’t want him to be scared.

“Adrian.” He turned to you worriedly. “Help her.”

He moved quickly tapping her back helping her stop choking. She gasped for air drinking the water he passed her carefully.

“Well. I think it’s best we head home.” Dean helped her up smiling at you. Jo cleared her throat gratefully nodding.

“Oh..” You smiled walking them out with Adrian. “I’d love to do this again!” 

“Of course you must give me the recipe for your meatloaf.” Jo smiled at you both before being led out by Dean.

“That was weird..” You nodded at Adrian. 

“It was. Welp I think we should call it a night.” You nodded kissing him. 

“I am exhausted between trying to hide you and be a good host I want a relaxing night in.” You sat on the couch letting your skirt puff out.

Adrian sat next to you pulling you on top of him. “I love the way you look, but I think I want this off.” 

You gave him a small look before snapping your fingers leaving you in your undergarments.

“Better?”

“Much.”

The show had ended just before that but the team had watched how Jo began to choke once mentioning Adrian’s death.

Amanda Waller watched in shock as the credits began to roll.

“What did I just watch?...”

“I don’t know to be honest..” Adebayo told her. All of them were in shock.

Chris stood up walking outside. Emilia sighed following him. “Chris-”

“No! Look this is crazy! This is too crazy even for me! Vig is dead! He died and now we have to watch him in some stupid sitcom! Where if you mention his death you have the potential chance of dying.”

Emilia sighed, “I know. Believe me I do. I was the one who got him fucking killed! I am here though because he would want her safe. Adrian loved her and I will keep up my end by saving one of the best things in his life.”

Chris groaned cursing. “Damn it..Watching the show isn’t gonna do anything though..I think we have to enter.”

“Enter?” Chris nodded approaching the wall. 

“Wait! No! Christopher Smith!” Chris ignored her calls touching the wall being sucked in.

“DAMN IT!!” Emilia cursed loudly.

[pokechbi]

Chapter 5 <3

"Right here on your right, David." I say gently, not trying to sound too bossy. 

"I know. I've been here before." He says with a smirk.

I scoff sarcastically, but in a friendly manner. I didn't think he'd actually remember. Was I that important to him or did he just have a good memory? I cringed at the thought of actually asking him, only to be shot down or rejected. I gave David a slight chuckle and helped him carry some of the bags inside.

Walking into my warm house, I wanted to relax, take my shoes off and lounge lazily until Mark came home. But I needed to play my part in this case. I wanted so badly to help those girls get found. 

Mark sat next to me in the dining room the night prior while eating dinner, and was questioning his decision on moving here. He told me that if two little girls were kidnapped on our first week in town, he didn't want to stick around to find out what else could happen in a year's time. My heart sank thinking about leaving Conyers, starting new somewhere else with no friends and nothing to look forward to. Here, I had a job lined up. I had Detective Loki, as small of a part he may play in my life. I still looked forward to seeing him whenever I did, even considering the circumstances. I enjoyed the rainy-ness, the crispy clean winter air, and sense of neighborhood that Conyers had to offer. His statements made me angry, considering how he just ripped me away from my life in Miami, and called it 'saving' me. And how wanted to rip me away from Conyers too. I was tired of his ripping. All he did was rip and take. And rip and take some more. And I was at my breaking point. 

"Cassidy. Are you alright?" David's voice shattered the cloud of thoughts that had come over my head. Approaching me with a concerned look, he gently places my grocery bags on the counter, never taking an eye off of me. "You seem...occupied. Mentally." He notions to his head, then placed his hands back on his hips. 

"I'm alright, David. Just a bit tired, that's all. Moving somewhere new can be tiring. And this case has my mind running all over the place. I really hope those girls are found...in one piece, you know." I say with a sad smile and nod. As much as I tried to hide my pain, I knew Detective Loki could see right through me. His blue eyes scanning all over me slowly, my sock-covered feet, my jeaned legs, my thighs, my curves, until eventually his gaze landed on my lips. I gulped audibly, clearing my throat and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Fuck. FUCK. Why is he so goddamn forward?! I'd give my entire life for this man to take me on the kitchen floor right now. To pleasure me so good that I feel nothing. I feel heat rise up to my face. He had a way to him where he was forward, without being forward. It confused me, but it made me more curious about him none the less. 

I had hung a picture of Mark and I up on the fridge with a magnet. It was a small photo booth picture strip that we had taken on one of our first dates. Looking at it as I close the fridge, I'm met with a hot breath on the back of my neck. I freeze in place, taking a quick glance at the towering man behind me. Once I confirm that he's standing literally right behind me, I snap my gaze back to the fridge, distracting myself. 

"You need to tell me something, Cassidy." I liked it when David said my full name. I felt as if i were being bossed around, and I liked it coming from him. And he was right. I did need to tell him something. I needed to tell him everything. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't bring myself to turn my already-so-complicated life upside down even more. I knew he would ask me about Mark, so I braced myself.

I do something so ballsy that I even start to question my own consciousness. 

I turn around, and face directly towards Detective Loki, leaving our faces only inches apart. His smell was stronger than ever, and it made me want to grab his clothes right off of his body and kiss his bare, cologne sprayed skin. 

"Yes, David?" I say, in a suggestive tone. David seemed to get the memo, since he had a shy grin plastered on his face. He stepped even closer, whispering something in my ear. Feeling his hot breath on my neck, the hairs all over my body stand up to attention. 

"Does he put his hands on you?" He says. I can practically feel my legs shaking, my hands sweaty and my breath hitching in my throat. The change of conversation made me want to crawl into a hole and hide from the world. 

I didn't know how to answer him. My mouth opened and closed as if I were a fish gasping and sucking for air. What would he do if I said yes? What if I say no? Is it too late to say no? I didn't even know if I loved Mark anymore. Why did I need to defend him? I could throw him under the bus and tell the cops everything. Or I could collect evidence and get a restraining order. But as much as I hate to admit it, I am not that brave. I had no idea what to say, or do in that moment. And David knew. He knew all too well. There was a sense of familiarity in his voice, like he knew the signs.

My eyes burning, and my throat knotting with the threat of a suppressed scream that I'd been holding in for a long time. 3 years to be exact. My longest relationship to-date. Is this how I got out? Dramatically? Getting the police involved? I wanted to be low-key. I wanted to do this all on my own. But the mere presence of David made me question it all. Maybe I did need someone to spill all of my secrets to. And that someone might have been him. 

He steps forward, closing the space between us and raises a hand to my cheek, brushing against where Mark had hit me a few days before. The bruise still lingered, but very faintly. 

"I'm not going to pressure you. I saw how he hit you that day, when I first saw you two." He caressed my cheek with his thumb, looking down at me with the softest eyes I had ever seen on a man. I closed my eyes and grimaced. 

His touch made me crave more. I wanted more of this. I needed someone to show me they cared, even if they pretended. David was giving me everything I needed in that moment, and I didn't want it to end. I could stay in this moment forever, with his warm touch and his voice, which was smooth and sweet like hot honey. And then I opened my eyes to a sore sight. In that moment, my reality hit me like a truck. I realized that this safety was not for long, and Detective Loki would leave and I would be alone with Mark once more. I knew this encounter would leave me craving for more, and I wouldn't be able to let this go. I wouldn't be able to go back to living my day to day life, planning my careful escape to New York City and leaving David behind. I realized that I needed him in that moment, and he knew it. 

His warm touch was the key to open the floodgates. The knot forming in my throat became stronger, until I couldn't breathe and I let out all of my bottled pain in one long cry. My vocalized stress must have been something he had seen before, because he was perfect in this moment. I didn't want to startle him, but I needed him to know how I felt. I couldn't just verbalize it, but he knew. He tightened his grip on my face, sliding his hand behind my head and holding my head up for support. His other arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into a full-bodied hug. 

I felt the outline of his muscular chest through his coat, and his toned muscles squeezing me so hard that I felt that I might crumble like a loaf cake if he squeezed any harder. He hugged me like he couldn't bare to let go, my cries muffled into his chest. We stood like this for a minute, the both of us not wanting to leave this embrace. I hadn't been hugged like this in a while, and the physical contact was driving me insane. 

I gently lifted my head from David's chest, looking up into his eyes. He lifts his hands up to my face, gracefully wiping my tears. His hands were calloused and rough, but it was the softest touch I had ever felt. I wanted to cry some more, have him hold me some more, but I suddenly remembered that there were things he needed to do and places he needed to be. 

I glance at the digital display of the time on the oven. 6:17 PM, it read. Fuck. The search party started at 6. I scolded myself for keeping him for so long. "David..I-" 

"Please, Cass. There are plenty officers who can fulfill my duty for a few extra minutes." He says gently. "The search party is a volunteer event, not everyone has to participate." He gives my shoulder a squeeze.

It made me feel a bit better, but a pang of guilt still spread through my chest. 

"We can still head out there if you want, you know. To take your mind off things." He suggested. "And focus on something else." I pondered for a minute, feeling horrible for even having to think about it. Mark usually came home around 8, and it would definitely seem suspicious if a random car dropped me off  and I didn't tell him where I was. I thought to myself. I didn't need his bantering tonight, or even worse, his hands on me again. I had enough emotions to deal with today, and I needed to sort it out before I quite literally go insane. I pulled out my phone and texted Mark. 

Hey. Going out tonight to volunteer with the police to search for those missing girls. I'll be home late. 

I switched my phone off, sliding it into my back pocket.

"You're right. I should go. To get my mind off of things and to offer my support." I give a weak smile, and David smiles back at me. 

"Good girl. " I feel a pang of curiosity hit me between my legs at his choice of words, paired with his tone. "We can talk more in the car. Maybe we can grab some dinner later, since it'll probably be too late for you to cook, anyway." 

"I'll still need to cook for...-" 

"We'll get him something." He says smugly, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the front door. 

"Yes Sir" I say with a sly smirk.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Hello ! I love your work and I was wondering if you could write something about Peter 1 and 3 finding out about the fact that Peter 2 was low-key possessed at some point ? I'm referring to spider-man 3 with venom, if we ignore the memes and take into consideration the fact that this situation must have been traumatizing for him. I wonder how the other peters would react and how p-2 could talk about what happened to him

He wears all black just like his soul, yet his heart is made of gold.

__________

“So yeah, that’s how Mr. Stark saved the universe. Killed the big purple guy and his whole creepy alien dog army in a snap of his fingers. Done and—well, yeah, literally done and dusted,” Peter One concluded his long tale with a decisive nod and a shrug. He wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened immediately after that, not in too much detail, and his brothers seemed to sense the tenderness of his grief on the subject. They wouldn’t press him for anything more.

“That’s…wow.” Peter Three shook his head. “He must have been one hell of a guy.”

“Heh. Yeah, h-he was, he was amazing.” After a lingering moment of silence, Peter One fidgeted, shrugging again in an attempt to move the conversation forward. “But hey, now that you know about Thanos and that whole deal, I want to hear more about Peter Two’s alien! What was that like?”

“Oh, yeah!” Nudging their older brother in the side, Peter Three concurred, prompting, “How’s about that space goo, huh? Was it a big alien invasion force like the purple guy’s?”

“Uh…no, it was just the one.” Peter Two allowed himself a small, uncomfortable chuckle. “Not quite as impressive as saving the whole universe. I don’t know if you’d really be that interested in hearing the whole thing.”

“Hey, no, I bet your showdown was really epic too!” Two made an inconclusive noise, stalling for a few more seconds by taking a sip of his beer, only to swallow hard and stifle a cough when Three promptly elbowed him again, wheedling, “Come on, I don’t even have any cool alien stories! I’ve gotta live vicariously through you two. Spill the tea!”

Peter Two’s lips thinned in a rueful, lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “It came down to Earth in a meteorite that hit Central Park. MJ and I were out there on a date and it must have followed me home somehow. Maybe it hitched a ride on my bike or something, I don’t know. Anyway, I went to bed in the suit because I was waiting to lure a specific criminal out of hiding—it was Flint Marko, actually. You remember him.”

“Obviously.”

“Yeah, kinda hard to forget the big, angry sand giant when I’m still finding grains of him stuck in my boots!”

Peter Two chuckled again, this one even more halfhearted than the last. “I feel you there—and, um, speaking of things getting stuck to the suits, that’s exactly what happened. One second I was in bed like normal, then I thought I felt something crawling on me, like…like worms or snakes. It was all just really cold and slimy.”

Peter Three sputtered, flailing his hands against the mental image the same time Peter One cringed with an “Eww!”

“Yeah. Not the best sensory experience.” Instinctively sliding his arms over his chest, he suppressed a faint shudder at the memory. “For a second I thought I had become self-aware in the middle of a nightmare or maybe sleep paralysis. I couldn’t move, I-I couldn’t do anything to stop it. It was all over my face and neck, everything went black and then…well, I still have no memory of how I got there or why but when I woke up, I was on the side of a building somewhere with this alien goo fused to my body.”

“Wha—” The disgusted furrow of Peter Three’s brows deepened for a moment before he fully processed the words and they shot up toward his hairline. “Wait, what?”

Running his hands gingerly up and down his arms to quell a phantom prickling sensation, Peter Two kept his gaze averted to the floor but in his peripheral he could still see Peter One scrambling upright in his seat, concern paling his face.

“Dude, that’s—holy—”

“I-I was okay,” he hastily interjected, only to self-correct with a grimace. “At least I felt okay afterward. Actually it almost felt good.” The words tasted bitter; his stomach turned against them. “I don’t know. If it was supposed to hurt, maybe it’s a good thing I blacked out.”

“Wait, wait, hang on, that’s not the point!” Peter Three interrupted. “I mean, I’m glad it didn’t hurt you but it still…all you’ve ever said was that you fought a black goo alien, you never said it possessed you!”

“It assimilated my suit, it didn’t really possess…” He paused, heaving a short, steadying breath. “Alright, it…imprinted on me, bound itself to me. We had a sort of symbiotic link.”

“That doesn’t make it sound any better!” Peter One stammered, aghast. “It stole time from you, stole your memories? You still don’t remember what happened in that gap before you were on the building?”

“No but…honestly, when all is said and done, that little bit of missing time has been the easiest part to cope with. If I could forget everything that happened next…” He was sure the others could hear it when his heart skipped a beat. The old, familiar guilt and self-loathing were creeping up his back, tightening his throat. Peter Three’s hand on his knee, much gentler than his prior nudging, didn’t help.

“Peter Two, are you—are you actually okay from all that?”

Jerking a nod, he repressed the initial urge to maneuver away from his touch. “Yeah. I’ve dealt with it f-for the most part. It was years ago.”

“Okay, but you know that whole ‘time heals all wounds’ thing is bull.”

“True, but I’ve done a lot of work on myself since then. Most days I don’t even think about it. It’s just…obviously not something I like to think back on.” His downcast eyes darted over their worried faces only briefly before tearing away again. “I know you guys look up to me in a lot of ways. I-I’m honored by that but I have a feeling if you knew what I did back then, you wouldn’t be so quick to call me a hero.”

“Hey. That’s not fair to yourself, not when you can stand to be around me.” Peter Three’s fingers tightened on his knee for a moment. “I’ve done a lot of terrible things in my time and you haven’t hesitated even once to tell me that I’m loved.”

“Mr. Stark wasn’t all great his whole life either,” Peter One added in a small voice. “He made plenty of big mistakes. H-He used to be an arms dealer but then he spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it. He turned it around and became a real hero.”

“Like you. What matters to us is who you choose to be now. You’re our brother and we love you—and whatever it was that happened, I think the black goo could stand to take some of the credit for any poor decision making.”

“It was a lot more than ‘poor decision making,’” Peter Two spat, voice hitching. “The symbiote—it brought out the worst in me, everything dark and arrogant and spiteful and cruel. I was the hero of the city and all I wanted to do was hurt people. I ruined my life and the lives of everyone around me.” Finally twisting away from Three’s grasp, he rounded on Peter One. “C-Can you imagine ever throwing a bomb in your friend Ned’s face?”

“I’m sorry, what?!”

“Can you? I can, because I did. My best friend Harry, I threw a bomb at him. I tried to kill him! Marko too. You were better than I could be, Peter One. I didn’t want to save him, I didn’t want to cure him. I ground his face into dust and sent him down a drain without a second thought, like he was nothing. Good riddance. And MJ…” He bit the inside of his cheek against the memory of his hand stinging from the impact. Clenching his fingers now, he dug the heels of his palms viciously into his burning eyes. “I became everything I hated. I was a bully and a monster and—and—”

“And it wasn’t the real you, Peter! You had an alien parasite attached to you, affecting your mind,” Peter Three stressed. “You were under duress!”

“But I still did it. I used and abused people, manipulated them, tore them down at every turn and I thought it was fun.”

“But we know you, we know you aren’t really like that. A monster wouldn’t be looking back on it now and still regretting it,” Peter One protested. “If that’s who you actually were, d-do you really think Mary Jane still would have married you? I think MJs have a knack for seeing through Peters no matter which universe they’re in. She has to know who you really are, even better than we do.”

“Who are you?” she had demanded from the ground, staring up at him with grief, horror and accusation in her face.

“You’re a good man, no matter what the symbiote told you. I know our whole thing is great responsibility but there is such a thing as taking too much responsibility. That creature corrupted you. And maybe you felt okay in a twisted way when it was happening but looking at you now, your friend Harry and MJ and all of them obviously aren’t the only ones who got hurt.”

Curling his knees up underneath him on the couch, Peter Two stayed shamefacedly silent. Several seconds crawled tremulously by, during which Peter Three scooted to reclose the distance between them and slip an arm around his shoulders. Thankfully Two didn’t try to pull away a second time. When he spoke again, it was in one soft, shaky breath, barely audible.

“I really am okay most days. I swear I’m okay. I just still get nightmares sometimes.”

[daughterofgaston]

The Other Side- A Descendants Fanfiction: Chapter 2

Warnings: Minor descriptions of violence, swearing

Words: 1618

Note: I’m excited to see where this is gonna go- I’m literally just winging it for right now but I have a basic plan of how the fic will go. Let me know what you guys think of it!

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I was led into what looked to be some sort of living area for the Beast family. “Have a seat- Mrs. Potts, would you please go get the first aid kit?” Belle asked an old lady, who nodded kindly in response. 

“Of course, you get comfortable, dearie. I’ll be right back.” She said to me, and I just nodded and sat down on one of the chairs, taking off my combat boot and looking at my ankle, rubbing it in silence as Gil sat down on the floor next to me. 

“How does it feel?” He asked.

“It hurts.” I said simply, rubbing on the joint which I knew was going to swell. I hadn’t been paying much attention to all the people that had come in, so I jumped when suddenly a hand was by my face, holding what looked like a wadded up towel. 

“It’s just ice, it should help with the swelling.” Ben said, holding his hand up when he thought he had scared me, then offering me the towel again. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” I snapped, taking the ice from him and placing it on my ankle, glancing around at everyone around me, taking note that the Beast and Belle kind of kept their distance in the corner of the room. The silence in the room was deafening, and very awkward. 

“So…how’s your dad?” Evie asked, standing by Mal and the other VK’s and swaying back and forth on her feet as she looked at me and Gil. 

“He’s my dad, I guess. Same as always.” I answered, really not knowing how to answer that question, especially with Belle and the Beast there, and after that the old lady, Mrs. Potts, came back into the room with a small white case. 

I could tell that the Beast was wanting to say something, but he was holding his tongue with all the people around. I waited patiently for Mrs. Potts to finish bandaging my ankle, and as soon as she was finished I grabbed my boot to put it on. “I need to get back, I’m already running late… Gil, come on. Unless you’re not gonna be home for dinner.” I said, looking at my brother as I stood up, still hurting but able to push it back. 

“Gabelle, Gil-” The Beast said, and we looked over at him, and he was fighting to figure out what he wanted to say. I mentally prepared for anything, ready for him to start calling us evil villains or something just because of who our dad is. After about a minute, he spoke again. “You both are welcome back anytime. You aren’t your father.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. It was forced, but still… I looked at him, a little shocked, but then I nodded. “Yeah, okay… whatever. We gotta go.” I said, motioning to Gil to follow me, and I just gave a halfhearted wave to the other VK’s as we walked out. 

The walk back to the Isle was quiet, neither Gil or I spoke. I limped the entire way there, but I’ve definitely had worse, and as I promised my dad we stopped at the market on the Isle and I picked up stuff for dinner. Just a bunch of random ingredients, I’d figure out how to fix it into something edible later. 

Although once we made it back to the house, immediately I could sense that something was not right. The overhead lights were off, but a fire blazed in the fireplace which created an eerie glow of the entire living room, making the taxidermied heads and antlers that covered the walls even more creepy. Dad sat in his recliner, hands gripping the armrests of the recliner so tight that his knuckles were white and glaring towards me and Gil while both our older brothers stood behind him, with Lefou and his son, Lefou Deux, standing next to him on either side. 

Not good. Not good at all. I felt like an animal that was being ambushed. 

“What took you so long?” Dad questioned through clenched teeth, the veins in his forehead and neck extremely visible. The fire cackled behind him, one of the logs popping. He was pissed, and considering that the firelight was one of the only light sources on right now in the house, he looked absolutely terrifying.

I knew I had two options, but both held the same outcome most likely, and that outcome would not be pleasant for me. So I decided to at least make the outcome worth it.

“The market was busy, Papa, I’m sorry. It took me a while to find everything…there weren’t enough eggs for breakfast so I didn’t get any.” I lied, motioning to Gil who was carrying everything. 

“Yeah! It’s not like we were in Auradon or anything!” Gil chimed in, wanting to help calm down dad in his own way.

Shut up, Gil. 

“Is that so?” Dad asked, his expression remaining the same. “What happened to your ankle? You’re limping.” He said, motioning to my ankle, his face still hard as stone and not showing a single ounce of care.

“I tripped, I think it’s sprained.” I said, “nothing serious, I’ll be okay.” I told him, trying to remain casual and taking some things from Gil and going to head for the kitchen, but Junior moved to stand in my way, keeping me in the living room. “That’s all, I promise.” 

Dad sighed, shaking his head as he stood up. “Gabelle, I thought I raised you better than that… I have been so good to you and you lie to me? I let you go out, have your friends, I even let you have your own room! I’ve even entertained you having little ‘boyfriends’. And you lie to me in return?” He said, stepping towards me and his voice getting louder with each word. “I SAW you on the television! Talking to- talking to him!” 

“Papa…” I said softly, knowing I likely wasn’t going to be able to talk him down. When it came to the Beast he could be… well, a beast. “I’m sorry.” 

“You didn’t even try to kill him, either! If it were me I would have! You embarrassed dad!” G-Three said in an aggressive tone, glaring at me. That was probably the worst thing one of us kids could do- embarrass dad. 

“I promise it wasn’t what it looked like, Papa!” I said, looking at dad and trying to think of some excuse to tell him to maybe make him a little less mad. “I was just-” 

“He doesn’t want to hear your fucking excuses!” Junior snapped, making his way towards me and grabbing my shoulders roughly, shoving me to the ground. “You’re no better than those good-for-nothing traitors!” 

“Junior! Stop it!” Gil snapped, going to shove him away from me and then kneeling down next to me. “You okay?” He whispered. 

“Why are you defending her?! Gil, you’re such a fucking idiot! She’s a goddamned traitor! She’s-” 

“A genius.” Dad said, which got us all to shut up by the quick 180 in his thinking, a wicked grin on his face as he looked at me. “My evil little girl- you had me going for a second!” He laughed loudly, wagging his finger and coming over to me, yanking me up by my arm and patting me on the back. 

“Uh- Gaston?” Lefou asked, shifting uncomfortably. “What are you talking about?” 

“Isn’t it obvious? You had a good idea, Gabby, but you poor thing, women just don’t have the ability to pull through like a man does!” He said, which made me want to punch him but I just stared at him. “She was going to avenge me, but she just couldn’t get the Beast alone! I should have known sooner!” He laughed. “Even with Gil there, there were just too many people!” 

Not even close, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “Uh… yeah, Papa, silly me. I guess I got too excited to take him out.” I lied, glancing at Gil and then back to my dad, who grinned. 

“My evil little girl! I know you were just doing your best! You sure did have me fooled!” He laughed, then he let me go and began to pace as he thought. “You got too ambitious…but I’ve been thinking since I figured it out…” 

“Don’t strain yourself.” I muttered, and for once dad ignored my comment. 

“You need to get close to the boy. That wanna-be king, Ben. Get close to him, get close to the Beast.” Dad said, stopping his pacing to look at me and smiling wickedly. “Then you can do what I couldn’t do. You can kill the Beast. I would do it myself, but I know the Beast would never let me within a thousand feet of him.” 

I felt my blood run cold, but I couldn’t tell my dad no… no one said no to Gaston. “But we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, sweetie, you don’t need to worry about it. First we need to get you close to the boy… I don’t care how you do it, but I want you to do it.” Dad trailed off as he finished his thought and started pacing again, apparently unable to do two things at once.

“I can do that, Papa… you know you can trust me.” I said, forcing a smile as I looked at him, and dad returned the smile. “Now, I should get dinner started.” I looked over at Gil, and our eyes met and I could tell we both were having the same thought. 

What did I get myself into?

[aestheticvoyage2023]

Day 128: Monday May 8, 2023 - “After Action”

I spent the day feeling very accomplished and proud of myself as I debriefed with Audrie, regaling her with stories from our three day excursion through Phoenix and St Louis and back.   It was my first solo trip flying with William, who at 22 months is still breast feeding and working on potty training.  This was a big bite.  A very big bite for this Dad who is working hard to figure it all out and be a rock.  This was huge - not something that I had to do, but something I wanted to do; something I needed to do, to level up. It felt exactly the same as the first time I threw my heavy back pack on for my first ever overnight in the Wild and how proud and confident and bad ass that felt. Exactly the same feelings.  And with the literal non-stop task-loading I did from Friday at 3:30pm until Sunday at 7:00pm, I was pretty mentally drained when I hit my pillow; but today on the day-after, I could sit back in awe with some real pride of how it all came together.

Looking back over the 3 day run, I noted the things Id do different (like maybe make sure to pack shoes!), and shared the things that I thought really went well (I definitely aced bringing the big mama-water).  I laughed at my “Jesus Take The Wheel” presentation to TSA and how now I think I could go back and ace that like an old pro after my two trips through. Ben sent me a picture he’d snapped at Lambert Airport before hugging goodbye - with me carrying my intentional planning (literally) - the bones of the whole operation on display.  Car Seat, Suitcase to check with both of our clothes and bathroom bags, messenger bag of books, snacks, and toys, stroller, diaper bag, and the old “throw it in there” bag which will absolutely be a staple of every trip I take with him from now on.  The intentional planning of every piece - checked the car seat and the suitcase, kept my shoulder bag and everything else went under the stroller, which was gate checked, with the ease of a bullride. I played it all through in my head several times the week before to make sure I had it all visualized and knew how it would go before it went, taking my weekend Dad-show on the road.  And it went, just as I had visualized.  My operation is aced.

I couldn’t have done any of this on intentional planning alone.  As is usually the case with the standby game, getting there with confidence was easy, with load updates right up until boarding.   Its the getting home that is always the crap-shoot. I thanked my lucky stars for the run of good standby luck, made possible by my skillful planning to give myself the best options by starting the trip Friday out of Phoenix AND the blind luck of an intoxicated guy getting booted to ensure my one spot home. But I felt confident that either way that would’ve gone yesterday, travelling back, I was ready for it.  5 hour energy, snacks to the gills, books including the long Choo Choo book - I was ready to play the long game if I had to; I worked hard to manage my expectations.  My mind was steady through it all - “slow is fast. slow is fast” | “take it as it comes”   I literally coached my way through the weekend with my “Dadconscious.” And just like weekends at home, I checked the waypoints until the only thing left to do was get home on this 3.5 hour middleseat flight. We were the last two rushed on in a standby stroke of luck, helped by a Flight Attendant that carried William for me, and sat us down where I was too cramped to even get my headphones or snacks. I buckled in and knew it was on me to bring this whole trip home strong by relaxing William to sleep, keeping him comfortable and steady and off the people on either side. Id skillfully worked Sunday to try to line up this flight with a long hard earned nap and it worked as planned.  But now, with no entertainment and nothing to do but to just sit there still as I can be letting him sleep, I passed the slow time, mentally preparing for the witching hour coming my way once he woke up, and how I’d manage the close quarters here on the descent with a rested excited stir crazy toddler and no back up aside from my own resilient mindful will; the one thing that no amount of intentional planning could help with. I would now be leaning full on to my mindfulness as I rode this last wave. With about an hour to go, he started to wiggle himself awake, until finally his eyes opened, and mindfully I worked with him to land the plane with no tears and no real struggle.  With our wheels back down in Arizona, the only left now was to get our luggage, and get to the car, and drive home.   Mission accomplished.

And it was nice today, to be able to sit in my success and be proud of it, and share what I had learned as if I had just climbed some mountain or aced some trail - some real adventure.   And I suppose thats what its always about, out here living a great story.  That no matter what it is that you’re trying to do, that you go for it and stretch your boundaries, and level up.  I definitely did that this past weekend, and today I felt like a whole new Dad.

Song: Brian Wright - You Got It All

Quote: “Let us step into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.” ― J.K. Rowling

[wahbegan]

Nope just reminds me of a time i was younger and a lot dumber, i was kind of an asshole to this dog NOT ON PURPOSE i mean...okay, so. My girlfriend at the time and i were pet-sitting for her aunt, and her dog’s name was Boomer. Big, fat Aussie Cattle Dog.

Now Boomer.......was an asshole.

He was kind of aggressive to anyone who wasn’t his parents, barked a shitload at people, you know the EAT SHIT AND DIE kind of barks, not the OH MY GOD A PERSON A PERSON A PERSON kind of barks, snapped at people, fully bit my ex on the ass one time, so y’know.

So when i got there, she warned me like y’know don’t provoke him, don’t run up and immediately try to pet him, don’t stare at him.

So me, being the little shit who takes joy out of annoying sentient creatures that i am, but also too sheltered or cocky or something to believe Boomer was any kind of real threat and too ignorant to know about the seriousness of the eye contact thing, came in, saw him barking and barking at me, and decided the best course of action.......was to give him my best, most intense and prolonged creepy stare while doing a Michael Myers head-tilt at him.

Now this story doesn’t end the way you’re probably imagining. Not the way i imagined. I.....don’t know what i thought would happen, probably nothing, maybe that it would just piss him off a little, i think Liv thought he was gonna rip my throat out with his teeth, but what ended up happening was...oh god, and i feel really bad in hindsight

This dog was instantly fucking cowed. I mean this dog in the span of about 10 seconds became scared SHITLESS of me. He literally ran away upstairs and i felt so bad, i tried to come upstairs slowly talking all nice like “hey, buddy, i’m sorry...” and he just ran straight for me and i did what i always do when an animal runs straight at me which is freeze up completely still in my designated threat display stance (not something i do on purpose, btw it’s just kinda how my FFFF instinct kicks in) and i was preparing mentally like “oh, fuck, here it comes, this is the day my hubris gets me attacked by a dog....” and he ran right past me.

He ran right past me and when he accidentally brushed me on the way down, he freaked out and almost fell. 

I just left him alone after that and he refused to be in the same room as me, but he would bark at me like through the floor from upstairs because that’s as close as he would get to me, i felt SO fucking bad i scared the everliving SHIT out of this poor dog.

It does have a happy ending though eventually, slowly, through being respectful and toys and food, i made amends with him and we ended up being i mean not GREAT pals, but we ended up on pretty good terms

But anyway, yeah, the eye contact thing is real animals don’t fuck around with that

[smolcuriouskitten]

{Okay I lied, this is the epilogue to the crazed fan story. tw; ptsd, rape, vomit, depression, literally all the triggers. They are mentions, nothing will go into explicit detail!}

After finally calming down from anger and cleaning the mess he made of her home up, she sat on her couch. "Roxie?" She calls out and snaps her fingers, making Roxie appear in front of her. For the first time, Roxie had a look of horror on her face as she looked at Rockelle.

"Look...Whatever he fucking had you on, was next level. I never would have thought I would say this but Im glad that he stopped doing that. I was affected up there and that shit wasnt okay." She shudders and Rockelle glares at her. "You didnt have anything done to you though. Speaking of which, you were up there. What did he do to me?" She asks fearfully, almost not wanting to hear it.

Roxie then goes into deep detail about everything he did. From him using her body as a fleshlight to the things he made her post online and how he made her tell all of her friends that they cannot be friends anymore. Rockelle feels sick to her stomach and runs upstairs to vomit, Roxie following behind her.

"On the bright side you can say you tried a new kink!" Roxie said, snorting and laughing and Rockelle coughs and wipes her mouth, washing her hands. "Fuck you. I feel so god damn dirty right now. I feel so fucking terrible right now. Just....stay out for now. I dont need any additional help right now with my misery." She softly said, turning on the shower. Roxie stood by the door and shakes her head. "For once we can agree on something I guess. I dont even want it at this point other wise I MIGHT vomit."

.......

After using a whole bottle of shower gel, 2 kinds of soap, and almost all the scrubs in her cabinet, nothing was helping. She felt so dirty and unsafe in her own home, which is exactly what he would have wanted. Then memories of that night she first lost her virginity flood her mind, the way her fiirst husband treated her was almost a mirror of how he treated her this time around.

So here she was, sitting on her bed, wanting to throw it out but she was too mentally exhausted to do anything. She laid still on her bed, just letting her mind race about the shit that she went through. Roxie had to take her phone, making calls on her behalf to people as she knew another episode was coming on for her. This time around, Roxie wasnt the one that caused it and she sure as hell wasnt gonna make it any worse.

[suna-reversed]

Hello :)

Sukuna. fluff. Pretty please.

Could you write something about sukuna falling for itadori's best friend. You can throw some angst in there too because I am a masochist❤️

Sukuna x F! Reader 

oh god, this turned purely self indulgent halfway through. low key thinking of turning this into a series to give you the angst you deserve.

A/N: (reader is Itadori’s senior and is 18) (loosely inspired by the song “me and my husband” by mitski)

“And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space

But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved”

——-

- You had been one of the few poor senior students who had been victim to what had been Itadori’s “elevator pitch” for more people to join the occult club early back in high school. [the said “elevator pitch” being him jumping out at random people with a white bedsheet over his head saying “boo” as he handed you the club form]

- You didn't end up joining the club. But you somehow did end up getting joined at the hip with the chaotic mess under the white sheet.

- Whether it was you two rushing to the theatre to watch Jennifer Lawrence’s new movie,  or going to a revolving sushi place [only to get pocky from a nearby vending machine instead because revolving sushi is apparently expensive], Itadori Yuuji had become a comforting and very important presence in your life.

- So of course when he suddenly dropped out of your life, being the worried friend you were, you decided to poke around a little only to find out that he was...dead?

- Maybe a few months down the line, you would’ve started to slightly recover from the tragic news you had just gotten. Instead, what you got was your supposedly dead best friend popping up days later to tell you that he ate a finger and now he was the vessel for some centuries old curse,,,

- Um yeah...safe to say that Yuji did not expect you to go into the fit of emotions that you did [boy had the audacity to call you dramatic for fainting and then crying while hugging him once you gained consciousness] 

- some time passed and Yuji and you didn’t see each other much with him practically training to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Still, simply happy to have him back alive, your brain managed to convinced itself that everything was still the same. 

- And it was when he’d sneak out a day or two from his heavy schedule and you’d be back to your normal routine of watching movies, stuffing your face with snacks, getting your face licked by the mouth on Yuji’s hand…

- ,,,wait what

- The first time the curse had made contact with you was simply out of annoyance of why the stupid brat even took the time to see someone as mundane as you so often.

- His plan was to simply scare you into leaving, knowing it would cause the brat pain.

- So he grabbed the opportunity when Yuji moved forward to brush off some popcorn dust on the side of your mouth, not only licking the side of your face but also being successful in slightly grazing his teeth against your tender skin. 

- Yuji had mentioned that being a vessel had caused some weird physical “abnormalities” for him. you didn’t understand it back then but at least knowing that had sort of prepared you for such an instance.

- So imagine the curse’s surprise [and an even further growing annoyance] when your eyes barely widened for a second before you burst into laugher, 

“Didn’t you train your dog to not bite?”

- by now, Yuji had jumped 5 feet away from you and was still halfway through his string of apologies, but upon hearing your reaction, he mused on your fake calm while letting out a chuckle himself, 

- “Guess I’ve got to get a leash for him” 

- By this point, the ever so indifferent curse had taken two teenagers talking about him like a mere annoyance as a personal challenge.

- And that’s how it started.

- He’d come out every now and then, licking your fingers as Yuji passed you something or making lewd remarks on anything and everything that you ever started a conversation about. 

- But you and Yuji barely paid him attention and it was an understatement to say that it infuriated the living hell out of him.

- Particularly you, who wouldn’t even be annoyed or sarcastic about his tactics anymore. Instead, treating him like a friend who was simply joining you and the brat to hang out. 

- He hated it. Hated how bright your laugh was. Hated how you made them stop every time you saw a stray animal just so you could pet it. Hated how your skin was as soft as a cloud and how you sometimes smelled like cherry blossoms. He’d kill you in an instant if he could ugh.

- it was a weekend and Yuji and you had been watching a movie, even though Yuji was barely paying attention. You knew he was tired as his large frame slumped over your shoulder. Pulling the blanket up to his face, you once again felt the wet feeling of the assaults you had grown familiar with on the side of your hand.

- “You could’ve just asked for a pocky if you wanted one, no need to lick it off my fingers you grumpy little thing”, you laughed as you stood up to go to the bathroom

- that snapped the final string. 

- Coming back into your living room, you wondered if Yuji had somehow gotten up in his sleep and managed to draw weird black lines over himself all in the span of 5 minutes. 

- ‘Yuji, what the fuck?’

- ‘Well well, now who’s acting like a grumpy little thing’ 

- The deep voice sent rumbles down your spine and you knew in an instant what had happened. 

- Even though your breath hitched in your throat and your body begged for you to run as fast away as you can, you held your ground as you simply tilted your head at the curse 

- “Well, I’d like my best friend back if you don’t mind.”

- You saw the smirk on Sukuna’s face falter for just a second before he crossed the space between the couch and you.

- Now as strong of a front as you managed to hold up until now, watching something like that stride straight towards you would have had even the strongest of sorcerers shitting bricks.

- Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards, but he simply continued to close the distance between the two of you until you were backed up against the wall.

- You flinched as he slammed a hand right next to your head and he seemed to gain immense satisfaction from that as he looked down at your startled face with a smirk plastered on his tattooed face. 

- Sukuna was sure that you’d be begging for his mercy any second now. His smirk widened and he was ready to mock your pleas as he saw you open your mouth to say something, 

- “ ...so much for a damn pocky.”

- All those other times you had caught the curse off guard were nothing compared to the “partially-confused partially-baffled” expression that he held on his face now. It almost made him look human. Almost.

- You didn’t realise just how long you were holding his gaze until Yuji took back control and apologized like a million times over, reassuring you that he would’ve never let you get hurt. 

- The curse didn’t show up for almost a week after that. And while you were grateful for not having to wash off your hands or face 14 times a day, you somehow felt anxious about its sudden disappearance. 

- All those worries were thrown out the window as he once again showed up while Yuji was passed out on the couch after a particularly tough session with Gojo sensei.

- Looking at the curse, you felt anger more than anything, how could he just drop out on you with no warning and then show up in the middle of your living room- ...wait a second, why the hell are you mad at a literal curse for not telling you he was taking a mental health break or whatever it was that he was doing? 

- While you sorted out through these conflicting thoughts in your mind, the curse seemed to be going through a similar crisis. 

- Having woken up in the brat’s fragile human body with no warning whatsoever, Sukuna wasn’t in the mood to see your face so soon again. He didn’t know why your physical presence unsettled him so much. All he knew was that he hated it. Even more now that he knew what you looked like all scared and small compared to his vessel’s towering build, and how you smelled even sweeter than what he had tasted, and how despite all that you still had the courage to stand up to someone as dangerous as him. Ugh, disgusting. 

- “The stupid brat passed out.”

- Such a simple statement caused you to snap your head up at him. But he didn’t wait for your reaction as he somehow managed to plop down on the couch while still looking graceful. Picking up the half eaten box of pocky, he warily pulled one out, eyeing it as if it was  a poisoned dagger before breaking off a piece and placing it on his tongue.

- “This is what you would risk your life for, brat?” 

- He turned his head slightly to look at you still frozen in place, staring at him with that doe eyed look that made his chest burn a little. Isn’t this what he wanted all along?

- “Are you simply going to stand there and gawk? I don’t bite-...well, not unless you ask me to.”

- He knew that would set you right back to your usual self,

 - “...maybe we do need to get a leash after all.”

- Sukuna internally grinned as he saw you move to the other side of the couch, ready to hear whatever more of the snarky comeback that you’d have (not that he was anticipating it, it was just the better alternative to being gaped at. Or so he told himself)

- “You ate the non chocolate covered part of the pocky by the way-”

- “As if a layer of this disgusting brown substance can make the rotten stick taste bette-”

- “Well aren’t sticks all you had to eat in yOuR TiME anyways?”- 

—-

- You somehow managed to fall asleep after the bickering, proceeding to sit in silence after you told him to not bother you while you tried to read. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a little disappointed when he actually didn’t. Instead, he sat on the couch with a slight smirk still plastered on his face, continuing to simply gaze at you. your heart did lunges every time you slyly looked up from your book to take a peak at him. you wondered how many ways he had come up with to kill you so far. 

- On the other hand, the curse sat idly, watching you while his thoughts rumbled in his mind. Maybe killing you can be pushed off the agenda for now. There are much better ways to hurt the brat anyways aren't there? Perhaps he could use one of these brownish covered sticks to-...what is he thinking?

- He ultimately deems it stupid brat’s humane emotions and sheer stupidity that must be interfering with his thoughts.

- A loud sneeze snaps him out of his daze as he sees you slumped against a pillow, your book falling off your lap. And then he does something that he immediately decides that he would pretend to have not done for the rest of his existence. Luckily, the brat takes back control right after he does it anyways.

- But that thought slips his mind as he finds himself replaying the serene look on your face as he gently pulled the book out of your hands, and how his hands shook a little as you nuzzled your nose into the fabric of the blanket that he pulled over you. How could you have felt so calm around him?

[no-droids]

Kar’taylir

gif credit @sersi​

Part Thirteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.8K

Warnings: language, angst and fluff, descriptions of a dead body, no real smut in this one but there is some nudity and touching, uhhh i think thats it tbh

A/N: Omg hi hi hello this was written in a week and a half so please be gentle, also I’m back on my linguistics bullshit and I can absolutely guarantee a vast majority of it is inaccurate

***

Everybody is asleep and you’re just a complete mess.

Truly.  And it fucking sucks, because this should be enjoyable.  This is home.  You’re in hyperspace, the hull is pitch black, the baby is asleep, and Din’s breathing is slow and quiet through the darkness.  Your cheek presses to his chest as it rises and falls hypnotically, you’re comfortable and safe and this would normally be a dream.  But your eyes are wide open right now and you are just going through it.  Spiraling in the midst of the most stable surroundings you could possibly conceive.

You suppose that this is partially your fault.  You don’t know why literally any part of you expected Din would explain himself without prompting from you, but you still couldn’t work up nearly the nerve necessary to ask.  Every potential question you came up with contradicted your intent, every way you tried to mentally phrase it gave off the wrong impression.  How do you ask somebody if they were being serious about something without revealing anything about your own intentions?  You can’t—that’s a downside of staying silent.

Din hasn’t said a single word since he urged you to leave the shooting range earlier, and he didn’t really seem like the quiet didn’t suit him, if that makes sense.  Yours was awkward, it fit you wrong.  You struggled for words while he easily ignored their existence altogether, able to navigate the Crest into hyperspace and exist comfortably around you without ever addressing the giant bantha in the room.  Maybe that’s part of the reason you floundered so hard—he didn’t avoid you, he held the kid while you took a shower in the small fresher, and even though he was quieter around you than he’d been in awhile, he gave no indication that anything was wrong at all.

You spent that time getting clean but also formulating some sort of plan.  As you bathed in actual water for the first time in a week and scrubbed your body clean, you tried to figure out at least why you were having so much trouble coming up with something to say, but even then, words evaded you.  You spent the entire time staring blankly at the metal wall, at a complete fucking loss.

When you came out of the fresher with wet hair and comfortable clothing to sleep in, Din was armorless and resting in your makeshift bed on the floor, the baby tucked soundly in his crib next to him.  You turned off the lights and carefully found your way under the blankets next to him in the pitch blackness, feeling him lazily reach around you and pull you to rest against his chest.  His fingers gently drew circles along your arm for maybe the first few minutes while you worked up the nerve to speak.  You needed to say something, this was your chance—

But then his hand soon fell to rest in one place on your shoulder and he passed out.  Helmet on, not even a few minutes of your quiet breathing next to him.

So now, you’re here, just… a little ball of stress in the middle of paradise.  Hours have passed, you need sleep after such a physically exhausting week but it’s like you haven’t even processed the fucking proposition he presented to you yet.  You’re having trouble even thinking the words, that’s how much he’s got you fucked up.

He said… hit the target and I’ll ma…. hit the target and I’ll marrrrr…

Fuck.  You stay on that loop for ages until your eyes begin to grow heavy, until you just settle on thinking about it with them closed.  Slow breaths from Din under one ear, the silence of hyperspace all around you—how are you supposed to contemplate when his body is so warm?  No, you can ask tomorrow, you’ll ask him tomorrow.

Eventually, you’re able to drift off into a troubled slumber, dreaming of bells made of beskar that deafen anyone who rings them.

***

You wake up what feels like two minutes later.

It’s not, but you don’t know that.  You’re so warm and the second your eyes open, they start stinging and burning and tearing up like your body just wants to cry for even being awake right now.  You finally got to sleep—you moan pitifully and start to turn your head further into the warm blankets, but then a gloved hand smooths your hair back and a voice whispers quiet through the darkness.

“I have to go.”

And oh, his touch is just the gentlest thing, but what he says makes your already fragile mental state want to shatter.  The first words he gives you in hours and they’re the ones you loathe to hear the most.

“W-Wha?  No,” you whimper and automatically reach for him, your throat starting to close up.  Maker, you’re so tired, you’re so tired, you feel so fucking emotional and vulnerable right now and you’re not even awake enough to realize it.  “Why?”

Din just catches your hands and brings both of them together in front of him, slowly pressing your knuckles to the cold beskar on the face of his helmet.

“I meet with Karga in three days,” he murmurs back, voice pillow-soft and barely loud enough to come through the steel under your fingers.  It’s gentle and lulling and it makes you want to sleep again, but you can’t and you feel like you could burst into tears for that reason alone.  “He gave me four pucks, I need four bodies.”

You can’t argue with it, the logic is perfectly sound.  But you still want to, and everything inside you revolts at the thought of allowing him leave like this without fighting for more.  Which means you have absolutely nothing reasonable or compelling to say to appeal to him; all you’re left with the glaring truth.

“But I don’t want you to leave,” you whisper, tightening your fingers.

And, perhaps if you were even half-conscious, you’d wince.  You’d cringe at the shake in your voice, you’d remind yourself that he has to make a living, he’s said it over and over again.  If you were completely awake, you’d scold yourself for being such a needy mess, but right now, all you can think about is how much you want him to stay, just this once.

After a moment, you feel the gloves carefully collect both of your hands into just one of his, and then he slowly reaches out with his free hand to cradle your jaw.

“I won’t be gone long,” Din murmurs.  “I can’t be.”

Your head turns slowly in his palm, and you’re just so, so sleepy.  Your voice is small and your words slur.  “Stay with me.”

Quiet, and though you can’t see him, the leather continues to press so warm to your cheek.  Your eyes slowly drift shut, needing him to stay exactly like this, stay right here just like this.  Karga can wait, the quarry can wait, the galaxy can wait—everything else can wait when things are like this, when he’s looking down at you breathing slow into his palm.

You’re almost asleep again when you hear him say something.

But… you have no idea what he says.  You hear it.  You hear his voice come through the pitch black, quiet enough to sit just on top of the silence and let the mysterious words simply become a part of it, but it’s strange.  Like his cadence lilts in a different way, the vowels are longer than what you’re used to, and your comprehension abruptly falters like it would if he was speaking another language altogether.

Maybe it’s just because it’s the first thing to pull you back from the edges of sleep, that has to be right.  It doesn’t sound like Basic because your mind is stupid and slow right now.  You need to ask him to repeat himself, but all that you can muster is the soft sound of confusion, not even able to open your eyes anymore.

His hands pull away from you and once again, you suddenly can’t decide between sleep and crying, quickly lifting and trying to reach out for him in the darkness.  You can’t feel anything, it’s like he’s completely disappeared from where you assumed he’d be, except then something tiny is placed into your hands instead and it makes an unhappy little sound at being disturbed.  You automatically hold the baby close to your chest and strong hands touch your shoulders, urging you to lay back down again.

“Leave the engine running, you’ll freeze if you don’t,” he mutters, quickly tucking the blankets up under your body while you close your eyes and feel the tears wet your lashes.  Fuck, you’re so exhausted, you just need to sleep.  “If I’m not back in sixteen hours, I’ll use my e-comm and you’ll have to fly out to me.”

He steps away from you, walks quickly and with purpose to the side of the hull, and a blast of frigid air fills the room before the door is slammed shut behind him.

***

Your head hurts.

Sparks and wires give your fingers mean, zapping reminders to pay attention every time your focus slips, but you still feel like you’re in a daze.

“Come on,” you drone, trying to use your voice to snap yourself back into the present, but the sound of it isn’t even interesting enough to pull you away.  “Come on.”

Maker, you’re going fucking crazy.  Is this just all an elaborate scheme to make you experience the same kind of insanity he told you he struggles with in your absence?  Because you don’t like this—you hate feeling like this, you can’t concentrate on anything and even if he hadn’t instructed you to do so, you’d likely still be counting the hours of his absence.

Fourteen have passed so far, not the sixteen you’re waiting for but getting close.  It’s one thing you’ve been able to accomplish.  Counting.  You can still count right now, so at least there’s that.

Oh, and another hoop you’ve jumped through.  Understanding words.  You can listen and repeat, even if you still can’t fully comprehend, but you’re getting there.

Din said… hit the target and I’ll marry you.

He said that.  Yep.  You’ve accepted it, you’ve accepted the words that were said.  Indeed.

Okay, but now… like…

What did he mean by that?  Why did he say that?

No matter how much you tell yourself he was just messing around—no matter how many times you offer up that perfectly logical answer to the burning question you’ve been sitting on, you still aren’t satisfied with it.  Something keeps tugging your mind back to it, a tether constantly pulling you away from the work that’s designed to be your distraction.

You frown down at the box of machinery.  Whelp, if he was serious, he’d probably immediately take the offer back after witnessing your behavior this morning.  You embarrassed yourself terribly, you acted like a clingy baby in the looming shadow of unconsciousness and what’s worse, you can’t even remember what he said after you begged him to stay.  It could’ve been a quiet, “Stars, pull yourself together,” for all you know.

And honestly, just… fuck these electronics.  You’re at the point where you’d probably cheer on whatever brutal impact damaged them so atrociously if you weren’t also well aware that this box was very likely attached to Din’s chest when it was crushed.  The magnetics are a complete mess, and you’re mostly just attempting to see how the individual components of each piece are supposed to communicate.  Turning the switch on doesn’t do much at all besides make the capacitors put out heat.  Not enough to shut it down or be a hazard to the housing when you close it, but enough to know that it’s going to present a problem for you at some point.

What’s more, you’re so lost in your own thoughts and busywork that you don’t see two green ears poking out over the top of the pile of armor on your temporary workstation (literally just the floor) until one of the thigh braces comes clattering down and the whole thing collapses with a ruckus.

You suddenly shove the metal box away from you in frustration and you reach for the little troublemaker with a sigh, scooping him up and getting to your feet.

“This isn’t going to work,” you grunt to him, hearing your words better for some reason when you direct them at the baby instead of talking to yourself, and his eh? allows the thoughts to come clearer and easier.  No, you can’t be distracted when your distraction is just another part of your status quo, you can’t use fixing mechanics to occupy yourself because it’s what you’ve done to occupy yourself your entire life, it’s worn off at this point.  You need something newer.  Something that takes your entire focus to do.

Eventually, your eyes drift over to the one metal panel on the wall that you’ve rarely ever opened.  One that takes up a comparatively enormous amount of space in the hull considering what you know it holds.  You eye the kid in your arm, who suddenly has sneaky painted all over his expression.  “You thinking what I’m thinking, demon?”

He squeaks his affirmative and you move over to the armory, pressing a few buttons before the doors slide open by themselves.  Because of course Mando invested in hydraulics for the gun closet but not for the hidden cot he used to sleep on, of course.

“Maker above,” you groan as the metal slides open, needing to lift your chin to eye the enormous collection.  How many fucking…?  All this for just one person?  What does that big one in the middle do that the others stacked strategically around it don’t?  They all kill whatever you point and shoot at, you’re assuming?  Are you missing something?

The baby makes a tiny sound of awe as you carefully look over your choices, not expecting nearly this many to be offered, before settling on one that looks the simplest.  A sleek silver one that’s still too big for your hand but smaller than anything else on the rack.

Grabby fingers reach out for the shiny metal as soon as you remove it from the shelf and you very purposefully set it down out of his pitiful wingspan.  “Nope.  Now come on, gotta bundle up.”

You make your way back over to the bed and pull one of the thickest blankets up, settling it over the open shield and then situating your partner in crime in his usual spot inside.  You strategically stuff and stack the fabric around him to make sure he’ll be warm enough in what you know has to be far below freezing temperatures, lifting it up over his ears and wrapping it around his neck in a loose hood.  He blinks up at you with gigantic eyes and an open mouth, clearly thrilled about your willingness to go on an adventure with him this time instead of being the tall nuisance that consistently holds him back from one, and you scoff down at him as you partially close the lid on his levitating nest of blankets for extra protection.  He should be warm enough, you’re not going to be outside long.

And then you pull out nearly half the amount of clothes you own and suit up in what feels like ten layers before grabbing the blaster.  The swirling wind nearly shoves the heavy hull door into you as soon as you open it and—Maker.

You look back at the kid behind you for a second, wondering if it’s too late to change your mind.  His expression narrows and he makes a triumphant ha! while pointing three fingers at the grey blizzard through the small open space in his crib.  Try as you might, you can’t ignore a call to arms when delivered with such ferocity.

Both of you step outside and take in the view after you wrestle with the door to haul it shut.  You don’t know the name of this planet but from what you can see, it’s one giant ice ball, mountainous and cold as fuck.  Though, to be honest, your only indication that it’s truly cold as fuck is the continuously accumulating snow blanketing the landscape and the flurries dancing in the whipping wind.  You’re too warm-blooded for climates like these—anything below room temperature and you’re freezing, you have absolutely no tolerance for cold whatsoever.

Keeping that in mind, you don’t travel far at all.  Just a few steps beyond the entrance to your shelter before eyeing what appears to be a large white boulder in the distance.  There’s a solid target, you figure—you’ll be able to see chunks splintering off when you hit it and the ice isn’t strong enough to bounce plasma back, you won’t have any ricochets.

Okay.  Okay—safety, where’s the safety on this one?  Ah, yes, okay—safety, off.  Stance, find your stance.  There it is.  Alright, now lift.  Lift, get that stupid frozen ball right in your sights, line it up.  Hold.  Hold.  Hold.

Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale—

Fire.

You watch with bated breath as the bright red bolt launches from the end of the barrel and travels across the distance before melting a hole in the snow just to the right of your target.

“Mother fucker!”  You yell into the frigid landscape without warning, suddenly infuriated.  What’s the point of even having a sight if every gun is just gonna say fuck you no matter what?  Could there be some sort of mathematical reason why you seem to be fucking atrocious at this, you wonder?  Are you fucking up the angle somehow while trying to read the scope?  Should you just ignore it and try to aim without thinking too hard?

Admittedly, you spend the next five minutes shooting at that stupid fucking thing, not making a single shot.  It’s not been long at all, but your entire body is already trembling uncontrollably and it is just too fucking cold out here.  Freezing your fucking ass off isn’t going to help your aim of course, but it’s almost just tragic at this point.  Either you’ve got to accept that you’re just absolutely hopeless at this, or you’ve got to… blame the little womprat behind you for messing up your shots, yeah.  It wouldn't surprise you.

As a last ditch effort, you consider trying something a bit ridiculous to see if he really is fucking with you.

“I’m firing one last shot,” you call out loudly over the sound of the bristling wind and flurries, making sure he can hear your narration from his little blanket cave behind you.  “If I hit the target… I will present our demon overlord with a chunk of raw meat later for dinner.”

You give the offer a moment to sink in before raising the blaster, and then you jerk it up at the very last second while pulling the trigger.  The arc of plasma quickly disappears into the gloomy skies over the top of the ice boulder, completely straight.

You switch the safety on and turn around to say something smart to him, but… well.  Uh.  That’s an empty crib.

Sudden panic rips through you at the sight of the wide open shield, the blanket left abandoned inside.  Your head whips around in horror, wondering where the fuck he could’ve gone—but then you’re able to spot tiny footprints in the snow.  Your eyes quickly follow them up and see the baby wading his way up a large hill, slow against the terrain and trying in vain to get to something at the very top.

You drop the blaster and bolt through the blizzard to get to him while calling out through the freezing air and wishing, not for the first time, that you had a name to roar and strike fear into his tiny little heart.  In this case, you prefer a middle name as well.

Finally reaching him and yanking him up from the snow, you tuck him under the warmest part of your arm and open your mouth to start venting the terror from your body, but he makes a distressed noise and starts climbing.  You fumble with him on your way back down, not expecting that response, but he’s so distraught and preoccupied that he’s unable to stay still, trying to find different ways of escaping your grasp and making more and more sounds to indicate something is wrong.

“What the fuck are you—” you stuff him into the shield and at least get the blankets wrapped around him before looking back and trying to spot whatever he’s still wiggling and attempting to get to.  Frustrated cries start filling the icy air and… okay.  “Okay,” you tell him, your breath puffing like smoke in front of you, “okay okay, we can go look, but you need to stay warm.”

You clutch the edge of his metal shield and urge it to follow you back up the snowy hill, feeling the crunch of your feet disappear further and further into it as you climb.  Your outer two layers are probably soaked by now—stars, it’s so fucking cold.  You know you’re not exactly the best judge, but you’ve been outside less than five minutes and you’re already worried about getting sick or frostbite, already jumpy and wanting to go back to the warmth of the hull.

But as you reach the top and look out in the distance, you can just barely make out a familiar metallic glint on the horizon.  

Your heart picks up, but the baby makes another distressed sound.  Not… happy, not thrilled that his dad is coming back.  Some strange sort of dread begins to fill you, carefully holding the kid in his shield with one hand and looking at the bright reflection of light a little ways away just to make sure it’s…

No, it’s not moving.  Not disappearing and reappearing, not catching the sunlight differently.  Completely stationary in this absolutely horrendous weather.

You immediately make your way in that direction, your body deciding to outright abandon its trembling in the wake of this newfound worry.  You’re suddenly sweating, way too warm.  That’s Din, you recognize the glint of his armor anywhere, but why isn’t he moving?

The closer you get, the faster you move and the more you’re able to see.  He’s laying facedown in the snow.  There’s quite a bit of it covering the back of his cape, maybe a few inches, and… there’s also someone laying equally as lifeless behind him.  Your heart is slamming now, you’re doing your best to run in the unforgiving terrain, and you finally see that it’s… a corpse, a frozen corpse is behind him with a rope tied around its ankles, clutched tight in Din’s unmoving fist as it lays against the pure white backdrop.

“Mando?”  You call out, dropping to your knees as soon as you reach him.  “Hey—hey, can you hear me?”

The beskar strapped to him is frozen over and feels colder than ice when you try to shake him.  He doesn’t respond.  He’s dead weight; you do your best to turn him over on his back, but you still get nothing from him.  You shove your trembling fingers up under the helmet, and the only reassurance you have that he’s even alive comes from the petrifyingly slow pulse beating underneath.  His skin is ice cold.

Shit, he’s still breathing but he’s hypothermic, you have to get him back to the Crest right fucking now.

You fumble to get in position above his head while hooking both your arms under his, before leaning everything you have into it—but fuck, he’s so heavy.  You can barely lift him even just a few inches off the ground—the snow is deep, his armor makes him weigh a ton and the fabric wrapped around him is sopping wet.  You try again, making a tight sound in your throat while you haul, but it’s no use.

“Fuck,” you curse, starting to panic even fucking harder.  You’re gasping and breathless and getting dizzy and scared, continuing to try and find different angles to heave—

—until suddenly the burden is lifted.

You nearly fall backwards on your ass at the abrupt removal of tension, playing tug-of-war with a team that decided to give up with no warning.  But it’s like it almost doesn’t even phase you; you don’t even look behind you to see the baby’s eyes closed tight in concentration, you just recover and pull with both arms, feeling Din’s body gliding easily along the snow now and leading him all the way back down the hill.

Once you get inside the Crest and shut the door to the raging blizzard behind the three of you, there’s an extended moment where you just… you don’t know what to do.  You know all about how to deal with heatstroke, but this is the opposite—he either spent too long in the cold, or he exhausted himself trying to get back too quickly and then spent too long in the cold.  He said he’d use his e-comm if he wasn’t back in sixteen hours—was that the cutoff?  The point where the temperature outside would shut his body down and he’d need you to come get him?

Regardless, you need to warm him up.  Yes, that’s your priority, and you figure the quickest and safest way to accomplish it has to be the shower in slow increments.  The kid helps you move Din into the tiny fresher in the hull and then you sit on the floor with him, holding his limp body to your chest while reaching up to turn the faucet on.

Cold water sprays down and then suddenly—oof, he’s heavier than fuck again.  Air leaves your lungs and your neck cranes back under the unexpected increase in pressure on top of you to see the kid climbing down from his shield, no longer focused on mentally bearing most of his father’s weight or directing his own hovering form of transportation along behind you.  The baby disappears out of sight and you huff, completely trapped under Din as freezing water rains down on you.

Fuck, it’s so cold.  It’s way too fucking cold for you, but your core body temperature is also mostly normal right now.  Din’s isn’t, you’ll probably shock his system if you try to warm him up too quickly.  So you reach up and twist the knob, keeping it at a temperature he’d probably find just the slightest bit warm while inspiring violent shudders from you.

“H-Hey, I’m gonna t-t-take this off, o-okay—” you stutter down at him, knowing damn well he isn’t conscious to hear you but giving him that reassurance on the small chance he is, and then reach with trembling fingers to work at his armor.  You worry that the beskar is keeping the cold trapped the same way his clothes are, like having solid pieces of ice strapped to his body and nothing to protect him besides a few layers of soaking wet fabric.

The chestpiece comes off and you throw it blindly over your shoulder into the hull with a clang—admittedly, without thinking about where the baby is at all anymore.  The pauldrons come off next, but not before you reach up and turn the heat up just the slightest bit.  Your jerky limbs just want to blast it and remove the rest of his clothes in steamy hot water, but you can’t.  Even though your mind is hurtling at a thousand lightyears an hour, whatever reason you have left reminds you that you have to be patient or risk losing him entirely.

Eventually you’re able to get all the armor off but you hate the way he’s breathing right now.  Slow and shallow, like he just doesn’t really need the air at all but his body is still fighting for it on instinct.  His chest barely moves with it even when it’s got nothing weighing it down.

“You’ll b-be okay,” you say aloud, talking to the both of you even though only one is capable of responding.  “Y-Y-You’ll be o-okay—”

You reach up to inch the temperature a little higher, shivering terribly now.  His body feels slightly warmer under the shower than it did with the beskar, but you know you need to keep going and take the fabric off now.  Maker, it’s nearly impossible—the black clothing clings to his skin and its such a small space to maneuver, but it gives your mind and hands a clear goal to focus on while the water incrementally heats up.

Strangely, your adrenaline has been rocketing for so long that you almost lose track of time.  You just keep deadly focused on your task of undressing him and slowly heating the shower, trying not to think, trying not to get in your head and bring about disaster in such a crucial set of moments.

At some point, the water is warm.  Comfortably warm, and Din’s body isn’t ice cold anymore.  It’s warm, too, laying back into your chest and naked besides the helmet, but he’s still not moving.  No response, no matter how much mindless drabble you supply, no matter how steamy and hot the shower has become, no matter how much your own body has heated up.  Your fingers have found their home under his jaw, pressed right to his pulse point and feeling it continue to beat slow and faint, but you’re starting to feel the terror set in.  Real terror, the kind that makes you stupid and emotional, the kind that turns you back into a child again.

“I don’t know if it’s working,” you suddenly choke out, close to tears.  He’s warm, what else can you do for him?  Why is he not waking up?  “I-I don’t know what to do, Din, I…”

No—no, you cannot lose your shit, not yet.  You will exhaust every fucking option before you let that fear set in.  He’s not waking up because he needs to recover, his body needs time to work things out in a warm, comfortable environment.  He’s breathing, his heart is beating, he’s warm, and he’s still with you, so… you need to still be with him.

You turn the water off and clumsily get up, grabbing him under the arms and hauling him back into the hull.  He’s still heavy but it’s so much easier than before to move him; there’s no armor weighing him down anymore besides the helmet, no cape or snow or friction to catch him, no cold to lock your muscles up.  It’s slow going but you’re finally able to settle him in the warmth of your shared bed and then cover his body in the collection of blankets you’ve amassed.  You stand up and peel off all your wet layers of clothing, letting them plop to the metal floor while glancing around for the kid—

—who is currently swinging from the ladder to the cockpit with one hand.

It startles you for just a moment, just long enough for you to wonder what the fuck he thinks he’s doing up there, but then you figure that if he found some way to get up there then he can surely find his way back down again.

As you quickly drop to the bed and scoot up next to Din’s limp body under the blankets, the Crest’s engine suddenly gives a low rumble below the floor and heat starts blowing through the hull vents.  Again, you’re too preoccupied to even notice the gift much.  You’re tugging and tucking blankets around him and up under the metallic edge of his helmet when...

Maker, you need to take this off.  If the inside is wet, it’s probably keeping his head cold while the rest of him is warm from the shower.  You know it’s not a light thing—you know… you know at least a fraction of what this means.  You won’t look, you won’t look unless something absolutely drastic happens and it’s completely unavoidable, but you need to take his helmet off.

You catch the shoulder furthest from you and tug at his heavy body until he’s on his side, facing you on the bed.

“Din, I have to take your helmet off,” you warn him, saying it slowly and clearly.  Again, just in case.  “I’m not gonna look.  Nobody is gonna look—” your gaze flicks behind him to eye the baby, who is now somehow on the metal ground and waddling up to you both.  He blinks enormous black eyes at you, looking between you and his father huddled together under the blankets.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him very seriously, no room for negotiating.  “I know you understand me.”

It takes just a few seconds before he lifts his hands up and does exactly what you say, placing his fingers over his closed eyelids and then even so much as toddling around to face the wall.  You gasp in relief, clenching your eyes firmly shut and then pulling the helmet up, making sure you catch his head before it falls with one hand while tossing the beskar somewhere in the hull with the other.

Cold.  His hair is soaking wet and so cold, and his head rolls slightly as you guide it to rest in the warmest part of your neck.  Your hand stays attached to the back of it, wanting to transfer every single bit of warmth from your palm to him, and your eyes open to the kid’s back as your other arm wraps around Din’s bare spine.

And then all at once, you just feel… helpless.  He’s in your arms but Maker, you don’t know what else you can do.  The heat is blasting, you’re warm and pressed against him under multiple blankets, the engine is slowly heating the metal floor, but his breathing.  Slow.  Shallow.  Barely able to be felt against your neck.  He’s here but he’s not.  And you have no way of knowing if he’s getting closer or further away from you.

Tears start coming before you even realize.  But you have nothing to say.  After spending the entire time talking out loud, providing reassurances, narrating, distracting yourself—you don’t have anything anymore.  The silence twists you tighter, the nothing becomes inescapable, and the sudden sob that leaves you echoes hauntingly throughout the hull.  You pull his limp body as close to you as possible for comfort.  Wake up.  Wake up.

Your vision is watery—you don’t see it.  You don’t see the kid slowly turn around and take a few steps forward.  You only notice he’s there when green catches in the abstract blur, but you sniff and blink quickly to clear it.  It only takes a second to see the baby’s hand, extending and pressing against the blanket covering Din’s back, and you watch with wide eyes as he closes his.

And then there’s a second.  A second where you dare to hope.  Where you wonder if it’s even something that can be done.

The kid lowers his hand just a moment later and stumbles back a few steps, before plopping down on the ground and slowly falling backwards.  You have just enough time to see his little body inhale and exhale a few times as he sleeps, and then—

—and then Din suddenly jolts in your arms, bursting with too much life after spending too many heart wrenching moments without it.

“Shhh,” you breathe, instantly tightening your grip on the back of his head so he doesn’t pull away from you in a panic and keeping it tucked into the warmest part of your neck, right where your pulse thrums fast and present.  Your eyes clench tightly shut just in case and your heart bursts with pure, blinding, heavenly relief.  “Shhh sh sh, stay right here, just stay right here…”

As soon as he seems to recognize your voice and figure out that he’s not dead, his body immediately starts wreaking with shivers.  You squeeze him tight to you, feeling his large, quaking frame curl inwards into you for warmth, burying his own face into your neck even further and breathing shallow but quickly now, like his body actually wants the air again.  You do your best to will your blood to pump faster and provide him that relief, stretching and opening your body as much as possible to give him warmth.

And then you spend the next few hours like that.  Holding him, murmuring gently to him, providing him with your body heat and stars, he fucking clings to you.  He presses tight to you and trembles, and you don’t even know if he’s listening, but you keep talking.  Finding words for hours, and while some of them are just different ways of saying the same thing, you say them anyway.

He’s okay.  The kid is okay.  Everyone is okay.

Eventually, the shivering dies down until it stops altogether.  Din stays in one place and goes completely limp again, but this time he continues to breathe you in, slow and deep into the crook of your neck.  Fast asleep in your arms, and you thank the good fucking Maker above for the little angel passed out on the floor behind him.

***

He has to meet with Karga in two days.

After a few more hours of holding him and making absolutely sure he’s going to be alright, that’s all you can stupidly think about.

A deadline.  A very quickly approaching one.

You don’t know why.  But it might have something to do with the fact that you want nothing more than to climb up into the cockpit and navigate the ship off this horrid planet, and you can’t.  You’re confident that the hull and blankets are warm enough by themselves to keep Din comfortable as he recovers, and you’ve also had quite a while to regroup and get your mind thinking logically again, so you’re not worried about getting up and leaving him right now, no.  That’s not the problem.

The problem is that there’s a corpse outside.  You know this.  You know it’s there, and you know he needs it.  Nobody’s gonna take his word for just saying they’re dead, much less pay him for his services; no body, no bounty.  You also know it’s probably being covered with fresh snow right now, or maybe some sort of wild animal has already gotten their teeth into it, if anything can even survive out there.  And you’re the only one awake.  The only one capable of going to get it.

You’ve been arguing with yourself.  For about an hour, you’ve been struggling with the thought.  Din is soft and warm and every breath makes you focus less on the terrifying moments that occurred and more on the need to step up once again.

In the end, it’s the kid who gives you the final push.  You’re not going to leave him laying on the floor like that for any longer.  Not after what he did.

You take a second, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up all the way over Din’s head as it rests warm and comfortable in your neck.  You’re incredibly careful to cover his face, and even while climbing out of the warm cocoon of the bed, you keep your eyes firmly shut and continue to pull the fabric even higher, making absolutely sure you’re not going to see his face on accident.  You shouldn’t, you don’t think, as long as he doesn’t jerk awake and pull it down himself, but you want to take extra precaution regardless.

After quickly yanking on some clothes, you immediately make your way over to the kid and pick him up, seeing his little mouth open as he snores—and oh, you just have to.  You pull him to your chest and give him the most heartfelt, thankful embrace you can while not squishing him, before setting him down in his much more comfortable hovering blanket palace and closing the lid on it.

You know you have a very clear task now, but for just a few moments longer, you do your best to stall despite the ticking clock.  You start to pick up the mess in the hull—you close the fresher door, pick up Din’s discarded armor and set it in a neat pile close to the bed, place the helmet under the vent to encourage the padding inside to dry faster, and then you collect his old armor and stuff it back into one of the storage cubbies with your toolbox.

Only, an idea suddenly occurs to you as you’re putting away the chestpiece.  When you open the door to the hull, you know that a blast of cold air is going to flood the ship.  The engine is still heating everything inside and making sure you don’t get trapped in the snow by continuously melting it on the outside, but you don’t want Din to start shivering again.

So you grab the dented piece of electronics you were working on and flip the power switch, feeling the capacitors slowly start to heat up inside the housing.  You go back over and lift the blanket near his feet just enough to tuck the metal under it, close enough to Din that he’ll feel the same amount of warmth your body was providing him but not enough to overheat.

And then you make your way over to your bag and pull on the rest of your clothes, now exhausting almost every single clean thing you own just to make another trek through the snow.  You’re in the middle of pulling on your fifth pair of pants when the thought truly sinks in.

A corpse.  A dead body.  That you’re actually considering going out into the worst fucking weather in the galaxy to search for, haul back to the ship, and put into carbonite.  Because of a fucking deadline for an occupation very much not your own, very much not chosen by you.

You quickly walk over and leave through the door on the side of the hull before you can change your mind, slamming it shut behind you.

***

Well, it’s…  It’s not too terrible, you guess.

It’s been frozen out here for hours, that’s why.  It’s not bloody, not gory, not demented or malformed in any way.  Tranquil almost, like the creature died in its sleep in this nightmarish landscape, perfectly at peace.

You still don’t want to get anywhere close to it, but you have to.  You pull a face and slowly reach out, absolutely not thinking about the literal impossibility of it playing dead and just waiting for the moment to strike, but even still…  Even if there was nothing more sinister hiding underneath the surface of this scene, it’s still… existentially fucked up.  The last time you were confronted with a dead body, Din had to be the one to dispose of it—you couldn’t even think about it without threatening another wave of shock to your system.

And now you’re voluntarily grabbing the rope around one’s ankles and dragging it back down the pure white slope to the Razor Crest.

It doesn’t weigh that much and its icy exterior seems to work in your favor; it slides easily along the snow as soon as you get it moving.  As the ship comes back into view, you hurry to the door and you’re just about to open it when you suddenly get the feeling that you’re forgetting something…

Oh—

It takes a few moments of searching around in the freshly fallen snow, but eventually your fingers brush metal underneath and you stand, reaching behind you to tuck the blaster into your waistband.  When you’re positive you’re not going to accidentally shoot a chunk of your ass off on accident, you shove open the door and pull the body inside, before locking it tight behind you and keeping the frigid winter from touching this warm, quiet safe-haven.

There.  Halfway done.  You almost don’t want to look in case he wakes up unexpectedly, but then you find yourself peeking over your shoulder at the silhouette of Din’s body still passed out under the blankets and you’re thankful the squeaks and slams didn’t disturb him.

And then you take just a second to wonder if this is what it must be like for him.  Minus your obvious discomfort and ickiness at beginning to haul the corpse over to the carbonite chamber, it seems like it’d be reminiscent of any other time he’s brought back a dead quarry while you and the baby slept soundly.  Trying to be quiet, wanting it done and over with just to get back in bed that much faster, doing everything you can to prevent anything out there from so much as breathing on anything in here.

You do your best to hold on to the loveliness of the thought, because this part is the part you’re most anxious about.

The body needs to go into this slanted upright space so you can freeze it in carbonite.  And in order to do that, you have to grab it and put it there.  With your hands, you have to grab it.  With your hands.

You look down at its face, calm and at peace, frozen and forever etched into that expression, and something twists in your heart.  If it weren’t for the kid, that could’ve been Din.  If it weren’t for the kid walking barefoot through snow, fighting an uphill battle to make sure you get to him, helping you drag him back here and then overexerting himself to make sure he’d be okay, that could’ve been Din.  He drives you crazy on a consistent basis, but he came through today.

Know what?  If that little squirt can save a grown man’s life twice in a few hours, then the least you can do is finish this job for all three of you and fly your asses out of here.

Weirdly enough, being frozen solid allows for way better handling than the alternative.  It means you don’t actually have to touch it too much; you don’t have to deal with the limpness of death, it doesn’t seem as much like a person as it does a rigid board you’re simply moving from one place to another.  You can just grab the shoulders and yank and the entire fucking thing goes with it, solid and upright, naturally wanting to lean back into the chamber so you don’t even have to hold it in place.  The perfect quarry for you basically, day one stuff, as easy as it could get.

Almost done, almost done—you study the key panel on the upper-right frame before eventually pressing a few buttons, and then you step back as gas freezes and solidifies the corpse in its carbonite prison.

Yes.  You’re done.  You already want to take another shower just from touching it for a few seconds, but that can wait.  Quickly making your way up the ladder and into the cockpit, you fire up the thrusters and then navigate the ship through and beyond the swirling white atmosphere of this dreadful fucking planet, before punching in familiar coordinates to Nevarro.

***

“Din,” you murmur, making sure you have your eyes completely covered with one hand before gently easing the blanket down from his face with the other.  “Din, I want you to drink some wat—”

He jerks awake so suddenly that you hear the metal canteen fall over on the floor next to you, thank the Maker its lid is on tight.  You automatically reach out to steady him, pressing your free hand to his bare chest and continuing to speak calmly and gently to reassure him, but he still scrambles to take in his surroundings after sleeping longer than he probably has in weeks.  

You know what he’s seeing, even though you’re blind right now.  You took time to make sure everything was settled before waking him.  The hull is clean with only a single light to illuminate it, the baby is still snoozing in his closed crib, his armor is stacked in a neat pile, the blaster is put away, and you retired your makeshift blanket heater box so the only thing left is you.  Freshly showered, hair dripping, offering him water, and dressed in just a thin shirt with nothing else (you ran out of things to wear).

“Wh-Where’s my h-h-helmet—” is the first thing he asks, voice broken and raspy.  Stars, he needs water.

“The padding inside is wet,” you quickly supply, keeping your hand tight over the bridge of your eyes to make sure his freshly conscious mind immediately understands that you have no bad intentions.  “I swear I didn’t look, and I made sure the kid didn’t either.  He’s sleeping now, it’s just me—I swear nobody looked, I swear.”

You might just be saying the exact same thing over and over again and admittedly, that might be putting some weird kind of suspicion on you, but you just want to make sure he knows.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt.  It’s important that he knows he’s safe and that everything is okay now, even if he collapsed and spent an unknown amount of time in a purgatory where nothing was.

His body trembles under your palm, waves of shudders attacking him even after hours of keeping him as warm as possible.  “Are—Are we st-still on H-Ho—H-Hoth—”

“No,” you answer.  “We’re in hyperspace.  Everything’s okay now, I took care of it.  We’ll get to Nevarro on time.”

It’s like he takes just a few extra moments, as if he’s trying extra hard to remember before responding.  “But—I d-didn’t—”

“You have four bodies for Karga,” you tell him, not letting him get too lost trying to recall something that no longer poses an issue.  “I took care of it.  You need rest, I only woke you up to make sure you drink some water, so please—” you blindly reach your hand out for the canteen you know has to be around here somewhere, but all you feel is…

His.  Catching yours.

“Y-You took c-c-care of…”  His hands are trembling harder than his voice.  “Sh-shit, I’m freezing, I—”

“Drink some water,” you tell him, squeezing his fingers.  “I’ll go turn off the light so you can sleep more, but you need water.”

His hand feels like it doesn’t quite want to let go of yours yet, but eventually it does and you hear the sloshing of water as the metal flask is picked up with an unsteady grip.  Purposefully turning your back to him and making sure he’s not in your line of sight whatsoever, you finally let your hand drop and blink your eyes open at the wall across the hull.  You hear Din shakily unscrew the lid while you stand up and find the light switch, before turning around in the pitch blackness and using his loud gulps as your guide back.

Your hands and knees are barely on the blanket when you hear him toss the empty canteen to the side and grab you, pulling you down to him.  

Fuck, you’re not expecting it.  You fumble in the dark but he doesn’t really give your clumsiness much of a choice—Din pulls you under the blankets like he needs you, his body craving that warmth even though his skin doesn’t feel cold at all.  He hooks a strong forearm around your tummy, keeping your back pressed tight to his chest while the rest of him curls to fit every part of you, and you have to adjust the blankets yourself.

It’s not even a few seconds after you settle into position when his trembling hands jerk down to grab your shirt and yank it up.  You quickly scramble to help him get you as naked as he is, feeling his palms drag greedily across the heat of your tummy and breasts before you’ve even finished wiggling the fabric over your head.  The shirt lands somewhere in the darkness and you’re squeezed back against him, your hands landing on his forearms as they wrap around your waist and he clings shamelessly to you.

“You…”  Din’s body still shivers every once in a while but the heat and closeness allows his voice to even out just a bit.  He clears his throat and swallows, tucking his head and burying his face in your hair before trying again.  “You brought back the qu-quarry?”

“Yes,” you confirm, confident in your reassurance but gentle at the same time.  “It’s in carbonite.”

All you can feel or hear in response is his breathing.  His heart beating steady and strong against your back.

And then Din’s arms suddenly squeeze you tight—tight.  He lets out a low shaky exhale against the back of your shoulder and presses his lips to your skin.  “Sweet girl.”

And he says just… so much with those two words.  Slow and purposeful, the steadiest thing you’ve heard from him in hours.  But the two biggest competing emotions you hear tugging at his vocal cords are gratitude and apprehension.  Like he already knows that it couldn’t have been easy for you.  Like he’s not taking it lightly.

You don’t want to talk about it.  You don’t want to talk about anything that happened in the past few hours, not right now.  “It’s okay.  Please.”

This time his silence seems to be on the brink, as if he wants to say more but the extra plea you put on the end makes him hold onto his words, at least for now.  

“How d-did you find me?”  He asks instead, scooting his legs up enough that yours actually go with him.  Cradled in his naked body, radiating heat so he can recover, pressed so close to him that you feel like gravity itself would be pushing you into his lap if the world weren’t sideways.

“The kid,” you tell him.  “We were goofing around outside and he dragged me ov—”

It’s like he’s still so cold that even just the surprise of hearing you say that makes his whole body lock down and convulse a few times against your back.  “You were wh-what?”

“I was practicing,” you openly admit to him, feeling like the earlier events already occurred a lifetime ago and you have no reason for being shy about it anymore.  In fact, you’re glad you were there, being terrible at shooting.  The alternative is unthinkable.  Though, something tells you also improbable, having a little supernatural sidekick who cares so deeply for him.  “I raided your armory.  We weren’t outside for more than five minutes before I wanted to go back in, but then he found you.”

And you think he’s going to get after you, for some reason.  Seems about on par, you figure—going outside for even just a few minutes on a planet whose name you now remember is colloquial slang for hell, even if it’s the only reason he’s not an icicle right now.

But he’s just quiet.  Breathing.  So you just relax into him, thinking that’s the end of it.  You take a few deep breaths in through your nose and just… rest.  In the near perfect silence of hyperspace you used to find haunting, but now only find comfort in.  It reminds you of him.

“Did you hit the target?”  He asks you quietly, and at first you scoff, about to ask if he’s kidding.  No, of course you didn’t hit the…

Only, after a remarkable delay, hearing him phrase it that way suddenly makes your stomach decide to drop and do a fucking somersault on the ground out of absolutely nowhere.

Everything comes flooding back.  The conflict you used to think was the most pressing thing, the one that kept you awake and your thoughts scrambled for hours.  It feels like it was ages ago.  An entire lifetime has passed since that happened, you might’ve forgotten it altogether if he didn’t decide to ask that very simple question in a very specific way.

“I…” you mumble in response, your heart suddenly pounding.  “Not… not yet.”

Okay, that’s a good answer.  It’s the truth and you’re giving nothing away by saying that.  So now what is he going to say?  What is he going to say?  You spoke your piece, it’s his turn now, that’s how conversations work.  Well typically, that’s how conversations work—but with Din… you probably should’ve known.

He falls back into silence almost immediately, appearing to accept your answer just the way it is without anything else to add.  You feel his heart continue to beat strong against your back, but there’s something too tense about his stillness that doesn’t imply he’s relaxing anymore.  His body goes slightly taut, but not from the lingering chill in his bones.

He’s going to make you ask him, you realize.  He’s waiting until you confront him about his choice in words at the shooting range.  Which means he wasn’t just joking around.  He wasn’t just messing with you.

“Din…” you whisper uncertainly, and his face suddenly finds its way into the crook of your neck as soon as the word leaves your mouth, arms tightening up around you.  You spent forever trying to find the words to even bring this up, and here he is, already knowing exactly what you’re asking just by the tone of your voice.  Still, you ask anyway, sounding small and so unsure of yourself in the darkness.  “Why did you say that?  On Tatooine, why did you…”

Din’s chest expands against your back with a long, slow breath, and then he lets it out against your neck, hot enough to raise goosebumps all over your body.

“I… don’t know,” he admits, voice muffled and quiet, but it’s not… casual.  Not like he’s brushing you off or indicating he doesn’t want to talk about it, but like it’s actually a complete fucking mystery to him, just as much as it is to you.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know…” you repeat slowly.

“You had said something,” he mutters, shifting just a bit behind you.  His palm slides up your bare tummy, stopping in the warm spot just under the swell of your breast.  “Earlier that day.  I thought about it, and then I just… s-said it.”

You?  Said something that made him ask that?

“What?”  You blurt out, genuinely startled and having no fucking clue.  “What did I say?”

“Something about…”  He gives the smallest shudder from behind you, and you don’t actually know if this one is from the cold.  “Not wanting anyone else to know me the way you do.”

Your heart rapidly kicks up and you flush, hating how unbelievably possessive your own words sound coming out of his mouth.  “Oh shit, I… I didn’t mean for that to be… that sounds so bad, Din, I swear I didn’t mean for it to—”

He cuts you off by clutching you tighter, burying his face deeper into your neck and breathing out shakily.  “Tell me you meant every word.”

You blink a couple of times in the pitch black before sighing, letting go of any charade or front you think about putting up for him to save some dignity.  “I meant it.”

Because it’s the truth.  You said it when you were caught off guard, throwing it out to him along with other mindless drabble that came from a place that was very real.  You don’t like the way you phrased it, but you meant it.  You do mean it.  Every word.

If there weren't so many things still left unsaid right now, you might actually worry he fell asleep on you.  Din loosens up considerably after you admit it, letting go of more tightness you didn’t even know was inside him.  His head slowly drops from the crook of your neck to the back of it and he breathes hot air on your nape, quiet for a long time.

And, you suppose you’d actually be okay with it if that was the end of the conversation.  There are, of course, millions of things left to ask.  But he doesn’t know the answers, just as much as you’re left clueless about the questions.  You’re not expecting him to elaborate anymore, and if he’s waiting for you to ask, he’ll be waiting a long time.  Soon your eyes close and you almost feel yourself beginning to drift.  It’s been such a rough day today and to just be here in his arms, it’s more than enough for you.  

But then his low baritone comes through the darkness.

“In Mando’a,” Din’s voice suddenly whispers against your skin, “the verb, kar’taylir… it means to know.  Su kar’tayli, you know, kaysh kar’tayli, they know.  Ni ke kar’tayl nu… I don’t know.”

Your eyes pop open and you immediately forget all about sleep, wide awake and suddenly hanging onto every word as it rolls so gently off his tongue.  You’ve never heard the language spoken aloud, you’ve never heard anything about the Mandalorians directly from one before.  All of the stories seem sensationalized, passed down by word of mouth and chipping away at the kernel of truth until it disappears completely.

“The language is dying,” Din continues, murmuring soft and gentle along your nape.  “By the time I learned it, too many words had been lost.  The ones left were the ones that were needed.”

“What do you mean?”  You whisper, almost afraid of breaking the quiet.  Not wanting him to feel distracted or pressed, but needing to express your curiosity lest you somehow overflow with it.

“There are only three pronouns,” he answers slowly, and you’re already fucking fascinated.  “Ni, for I or we.  Su is you or you all, and kaysh is third person.  Subjective, objective, possessive, singular, plural—doesn’t matter.  Three words, for every individual or collective in the entire galaxy.”

You blink in the darkness, your logic telling you that it sounds so simple it’d become confusing and then your logic also telling you that doesn’t actually make any fucking sense at all.  If that’s true, it’s unbelievable.  How do they differentiate?  Just context?

“How do you distinguish?”  You ask him.  Admittedly, you don’t know much about linguistics—not anywhere near the extent he does, but it seems so counterintuitive.  I can’t be the same word for we, the amount of misunderstandings would be a nightmare.

“We… don’t need to,” he explains to you, slowly, like nobody has ever asked him these things before and so he’s unsure how to phrase it.  “Individuality isn’t valued, it’s not a concept.”

And… you almost can’t wrap your head around it.  “What do you mean?”  You ask again, knowing you’re sounding like a broken record without specifying more, but trying with your whole heart to understand.

“I mean… we swear oaths to never reveal our faces,” Din tells you, something you shouldn’t need to be reminded of.  “We abandon our names.  We become… whispers, of the same voice.  There’s not many words in Mando’a with a unique meaning, almost all of them are homonyms.  Interchangeable.  Transient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, suddenly blown away by the implication.  Almost all of them are homonyms?  How in Maker’s name are you even supposed to communicate at that point?  That’s… unthinkable.

“Most words have two meanings?”  You clarify, wanting to be absolutely sure you’re getting it right.

“Most have five or six,” he returns, and you’re downright shocked now.  “Everything just depends.”

“Stars…”  You breathe, moving a palm up the length of his forearm and holding the back of his hand with it.  Fuck, you hope this is the direction he’s intending instead of veering him off course, but you’re incredibly invested.  “What else does, uh… kay—er, kar… kar’taylir mean?”

Din lets out a slow breath from behind you, and you can… you can feel his own heart beating faster when it presses up against your spine at the apex of his inhale.  “It’s… a rare word, it only has two meanings.”

You bite your lip and start to feel butterflies in your stomach for some reason.  Slowly, his hand begins to travel up your breast and then to your sternum before heading just the slightest bit left, and your own hand moves with him.

“To know,” Din says quietly, “but also… to care very deeply for.”  He doesn’t stop until his palm presses right above the rapidly pounding organ in your chest.  “To hold in the heart.”

“To know,” you swallow thickly, curling your fingers around his hand and praying he’s saying what you think he is, “or… to love?”

“When Mandalorian’s take vows, there’s no ceremony,” he whispers into the back of your neck.  “No witnesses, no celebrations.  We just take our helmets off in front of the other and look.  It doesn’t sound like much, but… our secrecy is our survival.  Letting someone see our face and swearing lifelong devotion to them, it’s the same thing.  To know is to love.”

Your eyes close tight and your lungs empty themselves, too full of emotion to even fit oxygen inside you anymore.  Din’s lips press feather soft behind your neck, and now you’re the one shivering uncontrollably.  The move up and trail along your neck in the darkness.

“Ni kar'tayl su,” he murmurs, shifting back just slightly and pulling at your shoulder.  “I know you.”

You go with him, facing the ceiling as he fits his head under your throat and places slow, open mouth kisses down the curve of it.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he goes on quietly, his voice starting to sound raspy again, dragging his hand down your torso while his lips brush your collarbone.  “For an eternity, I’ll know you.”

Water wets the corners of your lashes and you inhale three or four times before exhaling, shallow hiccups and desperate for air.

“Ni ke vaabi nu kaysh ke kar’taylir su te ni kar’tayl su.”  Din says, slowly moving his mouth back up when your fingers tangle in his hair and beg him to come that way.  The words dance along your skin as he whispers them, forever searing themselves into your memory.  You can’t see them, you’ll never have a visual to reminisce upon, but you’ll know how they felt.  Right under your ear, brimming with quiet devotion.  “I don’t want anyone else to know you… the way I know you.”

Your face goes blazing hot at the sound of him translating your own rushed and half-assed sentence into something gorgeous and flowing, something that sounds so much more beautiful than when you blurted it out earlier.  You told him you loved him in that hangar, right to his face.  Unashamed and stupid about it, but meaning it with every part of your body.

“I knew you’d say no,” he finally admits, staying in this one spot.  Unmoving.  Telling you the truth, allowing you to know it.  “I just wanted to… say it.”

That… that makes sense to you.  The last part does, at least, it makes so much sense to you.  The first time you said you loved him, you said it just to say it.  You wanted to feel the words, sound them out even if neither one of you could hear them.  It felt freeing, like coming to accept a universal truth.

The first part, though.  You’re still behind.  “You knew I’d say no?”  You ask him, feeling him ease back just slightly.  Staring down at you through the pitch black, even if he can’t see either.  Keeping his palm over your heart as the ship hurdles through nowhere and everywhere at once.

“You wouldn’t take my first name without convincing,” he reasons quietly, and then moves back to lay in the blankets once more, leaving the rest unspoken.

But he’s… oh stars, he’s so right.  If he’s going to take his helmet off and let you see his face—if he’s going to commit to you that way, it is not going to be because you shoot a blaster correctly.  Not after today, not after what he’s told you.

So you move up to your elbow and turn to face him, trying to let him know why even if he’s already guessed the what correctly.

“I want it to mean something,” you say after a moment.  “I want it to… have the meaning it’s supposed to have.”

Your palm finds its way to his chest in the silence following.  Right over the beating of his heart, feeling it thrum hard and rhythmic while he considers his response.

“This is The Way,” Din finally murmurs, settling his hand over yours, and you repeat the words back to him.  Respecting them.  Feeling like, for the very first time, they now apply to you in some way instead of belonging to some mysterious creed you’ll never know anything about.

But when a shudder subtly rockets up and down his body, you realize the blankets have been pulled down with the changing positions and his whole torso is bare and exposed to the hull.  So you pull them up until you’re both covered again, before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Din shudders again when your mouth opens and the hot glide of your tongue catches his skin, but you know it’s not from the cold this time.  His breathing deepens while you slowly move over him.  You ease him further on his back and let him keep feeling the warmth of your mouth on his body, alleviate the lingering chill by sucking gentle hickeys into his skin and feeling the goosebumps raise under your tongue.  He moves with you; he stretches his neck when you want to nibble his collarbone, arches when you mouth down his chest, shifts his elbow to let you drag your tongue along his ribcage.

And… and it’s as if all the stars and systems hold even more still for you than the relative physics of faster-than-light travel can explain away by themselves.  You’ve always felt timeless in here, living from one fleeting eternity to the next, suspended in perpetuity while the rest of the galaxy ages without you.  But when you’re with him and it’s pitch black and there’s no light to streak across your vision, no evidence that time and space have all but disconnected from each other just to let your insignificant little bodies through… it’s like you’re meant to be here.  In some strange, unexplainable way, you feel like you could’ve died out there with him in the frozen wasteland today and this is exactly where you’d still end up, no matter what.

To know is to love.

“Do you have brown eyes?”  You hear yourself whisper under his jaw, and you feel Din’s fingers thread in your hair and ease you up enough to brush his lips against your chin.

“Yes,” he whispers back, and then his mouth is on yours.

[vanderlustwords]

What if Steve leaves and she finds out she’s pregnant? I really love your alternate ending where he leaves for Peggy and wondering if you could write more about it. Doesn’t have to be him leaving a child behind that was just a question that popped into my head

Pairing: (past) Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs/Comments are much welcomed ♥

Continuation of: This Dress is Karma || Alternate Ending

Warnings: unbeta'd. Angst ending for Steeb.

Note: I don't know how you roped me into writing a 2.3k continuation but here I am LOL

Count: ~2.3k

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You shut the door with a soft click, waiting until you hear the quiet footsteps fade away. The lump in your throat gets harder to swallow as you turn around, leaning back against the door and let out a shaky sigh.

You can't help but think those were some brave words you said to Steve. You desperately wanted them to be true. You did want to be so happy that it would physically pain Steve if he were to ever witness it.

You wanted it to be true that you were never going to see him again because he had hurt you so much, and he needed to stay away from you.

But when you lift your trembling hand to your stomach, you wonder if everything you said had been nothing more than a brave front.

"You alright?"

You immediately look up and see Bucky stepping out of the guest room, fully dressed with towel-dried hair.

You swallow and force a smile as you drop your hand.

"Yeah, you ready to head out?" You ask him as you stand up straight.

Bucky nods with a grumble before he grabs a strand of his hair. "I need a haircut first, though. Do you think we could find a barber first?"

"Sure," you say, turning around and opening the door with Bucky following you behind.

"You sure everything is okay?" Bucky asks you again.

The way your throat feels raw, the hysterical words that want to escape your mouth make you feel dizzy. You want to put your hand against your stomach again as if to see if you could suddenly feel a bump.

But you refrain because Bucky would get suspicious. Well, he'd probably think you had a stomachache first, but if you didn't stop acting strange, he would pry.

"Everything's fine," you mumble.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

As the weeks pass, more and more things begin to slip from you.

There is a layer of never-ending panic that sits right beneath your skin, crawling and setting your nerves on fire.

When you began to get morning sickness and threw up into the toilet, you began to shake.

The reality of your situation began to hit you.

You were pregnant.

With Steve's child.

Steve, who had abandoned you and was grey and old and probably would pass away soon.

The notion of it all had you throwing up in the toilet again.

You were alone, and you were scared.

What were you going to do? You couldn't rely on Steve anymore.

You looked down at your relatively flat stomach still, placing your hand against it.

There was a life growing inside you. What were you going to do?

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It was harder to hide when Bucky came over almost every other day, even though he didn't live with you. He had stayed for a week after the confrontation with Steve but quickly found his own place.

Initially, that had made you feel more alone, like everyone couldn't wait to escape from you. But it had worked out when you needed alone time.

Bucky was currently in your kitchen, cooking up steaks for lunch for the two of you.

The smell of it made you deathly pale.

"What's going on with you?" Bucky asked with a frown as he set the steaks aside to rest.

You had to swallow hard before you could answer. "Nothing," you said weakly. "I'm—I'm sorry. I know you came all the way here to cook but I'm not really hungry."

"You've been saying that for days now, doll," Bucky pursed his lip. "I feel like I haven't seen you eat a proper meal lately. What's going on? I know things have been...hard. Especially since you last saw Steve, but this isn't okay. I need you to eat something in front of me that isn't pretzels, bananas, or bread."

The idea of sliding a piece of steak basted in butter had your stomach knot itself painfully.

You shook your head, but when Bucky insisted, slicing the steak and you watched the juices run, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You took off to the bathroom in haste.

"Hey—" Bucky called out and took off after you, but you were quick to shut the door before you fell to your knees over the toilet and hurled.

"What's wrong?" Bucky yelled through the door, trying to jiggle it open but found you had locked it. "Open the door, doll. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," you said shakily as you grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your mouth, eyes hot with tears. "I just—I just haven't been feeling well."

The silence on the other side of the door only lingered for a moment before Bucky used his metal arm to turn the doorknob so hard, it broke open.

He found you sitting on the floor, over the toilets, eyes rimmed red and your face pale.

Bucky carefully walks in and kneels slowly before you.

He thinks back the couple of weeks and how you've been going to the bathroom a lot more, and how you don't like going to restaurants to eat. You've been eating at home and the strangest things and wearing more flowy shirts.

He looks at your face, and the way you're trying to hold back your tears makes Bucky feel dread.

"Doll..." he calls you softly. "Are you—Are you pregnant?"

You let out a choked sob in response, face dropping as you close your eyes.

Bucky's quick to hold you in his arms as he strokes your back, his heart dropping.

There was only one person who could've gotten you pregnant.

There had been some dumb shit Steve's done the entire time Bucky's known him. Always getting into scraps he couldn't finish, always prideful when Bucky wanted to help him.

But it had been the first time Bucky's ever been so fucking pissed at Steve. It was the first time Bucky couldn't defend or make an excuse for his friend.

"Bucky, what am I going to do?" You trembled in his arms. "I can't—Steve isn't—I want to keep it but I'm alone."

Bucky swallowed so hard it was painful.

There was no fucking way he was ready to be a dad or step up in any kind of way—that is, if you even let him.

Fuck, you two didn't even have feelings for each other or anything. There was something, maybe, Bucky thought for the future. But now?

"You're not alone," Bucky reassured, keeping his voice still for your sake. "I'm here. I'm here all the way and I'm not gonna leave you, doll. Ever."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You manage to keep the fact that you're pregnant under the wraps easily. It helps that since saving the world, no one really meets up anymore. A part of you worries because you can't find Wanda anywhere, but you know she can find you if she wanted to.

Sam might be the only other person who knows, and Bucky was begrudging when accepting his help.

Months pass, and you're surprised how dedicated Bucky is. You're pretty sure you're on the verge of a mental breakdown constantly. A part of you worries Steve will show up, but Bucky reassures you that there's nothing Steve could do even if he did show up.

"Fuck..." you swore as Bucky was in the middle of figuring out how to build the crib the two of you got from Ikea. He looks up at you alarmingly. "I think my water just broke."

"Oh, shit, okay, okay!" Bucky jumps up right away and starts running around to grab the prepared bag as he helps you out into the car. "Don't panic!"

"Bucky, I'm literally about to push a baby out of my body. I'm going to fucking panic if I want to," you snap, and Bucky bites his lip to refrain from speaking as he zips through traffic.

"Oh, god," you say under your breath. You were having a baby. You were actually going to have a baby.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"Bucky, you can't just carry her everywhere," you grumbled as you pushed the stroller through the park. "You're spoiling her."

"Yes, I can. She wants me to carry her and whatever my princess wants, she gets." Bucky declared indignantly at you while sticking his tongue out.

You sighed with a smile.

You couldn't believe a year has passed. Despite the time passing, you never really felt fully prepared as a mother. You were scared you were fucking it up all the time if you're honest.

Bucky holds your hand, and you give him a shy smile. That was new too. Slow and steady, as Bucky has always been, and you think you were falling for him because of that.

When you look up, your heart stops.

"Oh," Steve blinked.

Another year has passed, but you find Steve doesn't look too different. A little more tired perhaps, but still...Steve.

You feel panic creep up in your chest that threatens to become a panic attack before Bucky squeezes your hand.

"Breathe, doll," he whispers encouragingly to you, but it's loud enough for Steve to catch.

You do as he says, taking a few calming breaths. You want to keep walking, but it seems Steve can't stop staring at the child in Bucky's arms.

"Why don't you take Hazel to the pond? She really likes looking at the ducks," you tell Bucky, and he nods, warily looking at you and Steve. He sends Steve a curt nod before he takes the stroller with him and walks off.

Steve's eyes trail after Bucky.

You know then that he knows. It's not hard after all. Hazel looks like a spitting image of Steve, something that had been hard for you to deal with at first. Her blonde hair and blue eyes—the blue eyes were easier since Bucky's eyes were blue too, even if a darker shade.

But Hazel was so lovely; you loved her so easily.

"When did you know?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "The day before we all saved the world."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Steve's voice was pained and betrayed, and you cocked your brow at him.

"Why? So you would stay?"

"Yes, I would have!" Steve insisted.

The sheer stupidity of the situation had you give a humourless laugh.

"The last thing I want is for you to stay because of a baby, Steve. You wanted to leave, despite everything, you chose to leave. We would only hate each other in the long run."

"That's not true," Steve denied. "When I made that choice, it wasn't because I didn't love you anymore."

"No, you just didn't love me enough."

The words rang clear, almost throwing Steve off-kilter.

The silence fell, and the two of you could hear Hazel laughing with Bucky in the distance as she shrieked.

"Don't you think I deserved to know about her?" Steve asked with his lips pursed.

"No," you answered honestly. "What do you, a 90 something-year-old man, have to offer her? You certainly can't step up and be her father. Your time keeps running out and the last thing I need is for Hazel to have instability. Did you want to be her grandfather? She's already met mine, so do you want to pretend to be Bucky's?"

"So, you're just gonna lie to her and let her think Bucky is her dad?"

Your eyes flash angrily.

"Bucky is her dad. He's the only dad that counts in every way. Do you know how hard it was for me? I was scared shitless, Steve. You can delude yourself into thinking otherwise, but you're unreliable. I couldn't come to you for help," you snap at him. "Do you know who was there every time I was puking my guts out, crying or screaming, or wanted pickles with peanut butter at 2AM? Who do you think was there for every appointment. Who bought fifty parenting and baby books to study religiously? It was Bucky. Even though I knew he was scared too, he was there. So, don't fucking try to make me and Bucky look like the bad guy. You have NOTHING to offer to Hazel."

Steve stood there wide-eyed, guilt crowding over his eyes. Steve doesn't want to say he regrets going back because that would mean a lifetime of regrets he can't get back.

"You're right," Steve said slowly, trying to appease your anger. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's not my place to say anything."

Even though Steve says it, he looks over to the little girl squealing in Bucky's arms. He looks at her blonde hair that she clearly got from him and your nose.

He and Peggy had children—children he loved more than anything.

But...the idea of his child with you...that was another reality he missed.

It seems to be that way always for him, Steve thought somberly. He was always missing something. Maybe you had been right about him.

Steve listens as you take a deep breath in and exhale.

"Do you want to meet her?" You offer, and Steve can tell it's difficult for you to say those words.

"If you're okay with it," Steve said slowly.

You nod stiffly. "It's fine as long as you respect my wishes and refrain from telling her you're her bio dad. I want to save that conversation for when she's older and able to understand it more."

You don't say it, but Steve is already thinking how he'll most likely be gone by then.

The two of you begin to walk towards Bucky and Hazel.

"What will you tell her?" Steve asked.

"The truth," you shrug. "That you were the world's greatest hero and you loved her and would've loved to get to know her if you stayed, but you didn't and it wasn't her fault."

"Right, it was mine," Steve felt a sting in the back of his throat.

"I don't think it was anyone's fault," you tell him. "It's just karma, Steve. I wasn't enough for you and now you're not enough for Hazel."

Right, Steve thought somberly as he looked at you in your summer dress. It was different from the sexy red one that used to drive him insane.

It was a calm peace, a show of your motherhood and graceful maturity.

This dress is karma, too.

[jungshookz]

smitten: y/n's note is in jungkook's bag and she needs to get it back like, right now

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook & smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boo hoo angsty wattpad-energy fic of your dreams!! unrequited love!! it hurts so bad but that's what makes it so good!!

➺ wordcount; 7.1k

➺ summary; y/n realizes her meticulously written i love you note is burning a hole at the bottom of jungkook's bag and the mere thought of him finding it is enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.

➺ what to expect; "well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that."

➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

[previously, on smitten...]

what?

where the hell is it?

you reach into the side pockets and you're disappointed when you end up pulling out old tissues and empty gum wrappers

it's not in the front pocket either — just your keys, a pack of bubblegum, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer

your brows knit together in deep thought as you settle back against your seat, your eyes flickering to the side as you-

you immediately pale

oh my god.

you're positive that your heart stops beating for three whole seconds the moment you realize where exactly the note is — because no, you idiot, you didn't shove it into your own bag earlier-

the note is in jungkook's bag.

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

the next thirty or so minutes of class seem to drag on at a snail's pace and you find yourself checking the time on your phone every five seconds to see when you can finally dart out those doors

your first instinct was to immediately get up and leave because of course you wanted to immediately get up and leave, but with only twenty-ish people in the class and the fact that you're seated near the front... well, it would be a little awkward to just pack up your things and trek up towards the doors without a legitimate excuse (you were tempted to tell your professor that your stomach wasn't feeling very good but the thought of your peers associating you with explosive diarrhea quickly changed your mind)

so, you decided to be a good student and wait it out — but, being perfectly honest, you haven't really been paying much attention to the professor since the thought of you shoving your hi bestie, i'm head-over-heels in love with you note into jungkook's bag instead of yours contaminated your mind five minutes ago

...

you let out a little huff before shaking your head to yourself

how could you be so careless?!

you don't even know how it happened

your bag was sitting on your right thigh, jungkook's bag was sitting on your left thigh... so how the hell did you manage to shove it into his bag??

on the bright side, at least you know where it is, right?

it's in the right side pocket of the bag, so all you have to do is unzip it and stick your hand in and out really quickly without jungkook noticing you rummaging around in his belongings

...but what if he's already read the note?

your foot taps impatiently against the carpeted ground and you reach up and start tugging at your earlobe anxiously, your eyes flickering up towards the dusty analog clock hanging on the wall

c'mon... c'mon...

your grip tightens around your pencil as you continue to trace circles aimlessly on the page, the paper crinkling slightly from the amount of pressure you're putting on it

the stress that's currently eating away at you is probably going to take ten years off your life

"-so, that's pretty much it from me for the day!"

you don't think you've ever been so happy for a class to end as soon as the screen goes black at the front and you waste absolutely no time in packing up

you probably look insane trying to shove your laptop and your notebook into your bag at the same time but you couldn't care less at this point because you need to get the hell out of here

"-please remember to contribute to the discussion threads online... at least four responses, please, and none of those bullshit 'yes, i agree!' responses. i'm definitely not going to count those as participation marks-"

you close your bag with a sharp ziiiip! and you hurry to fold the squeaky desk back into place, a couple of people turning to glance at you for the sudden abundance of clattering and knocking coming from your direction

"excuse me, pardon me-" you pull your backpack on as you step over multiple sets of legs, trying your best not to trample on any feet or knock anyone's tooth out with your bag, "sorry! excuse me-"

you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you jog up the steps two at a time, your brain immediately mapping out the route to the library jungkook said he'd be at

best case scenario: he hasn't found the note and your friendship with him is still very much in tact

worst case scenario: he found the note and is currently reading it at this point in time and your friendship with him is starting to crumble but you still have a chance to swoop in and pick up the pieces

the absolutely worst case ever in the entire world scenario: he's found the note, he's read the note, he's processed the note, and your friendship with him has been completely annihilated and now he's planning to change his name and leave the country so that he doesn't have to confront you about it

you use your shoulder to shove the doors open before bursting out into the open air, ignoring the concerned glances you're starting to receive from your obviously frazzled state

"oh god, oh god, oh god-!" your backpack flops wildly against your back as you rush down the narrow brick steps leading towards the main boulevard

realistically, jungkook's probably found and read the note, so all you have to do is come up with a short monologue about how all of it was fake and that the note was just a sick, twisted prank of some kind

i know that the note makes it seem like i'm telling you that i'm in love with you, but that's not the truth at all!

"woah, watch it-!"

you accidentally knock into someone's shoulder while sprinting down the lane and you turn around for a second just to hold a hand out while flashing the stranger a sheepish smile

"sorry! so sorry-" you turn back around, reaching up to keep your glasses secured on the top of your head as you continue to sprint, your sneakers slapping down against the pavement

as you read in the note, i made a point about how since we're friends, we should be honest with each other... and honestly, there are nothing but lies in the note! and there's a lesson in that, you know? words can be full of lies but we, as human beings, should be full of truths-

"nope, hate that-" you shake your head and immediately scrunch up that mental piece of paper before tossing it into your brain's garbage bin

you'd sound like an obnoxious philosophy student if you hit him with that explanation

it was a prank! i want to start a prank war with you and this is how i'm kicking things off!

that... that could work, right?

that's not bad!

just tell him that you wanted to start a prank war with him so you decided to go big or go home with an i love you, best friend note to see how he would react!

"so stupid-" you mutter to yourself, slowing down to a jog as you approach the doors to the library, "so, so stupid-"

the Super Epic Prank War ROFL XD™ explanation isn't the greatest excuse but it's the best you can do on such short notice

thankfully, it doesn't take you very long to track down jungkook considering the fact he always sits in the same area every time the two of you come here

your feet come to a screeching halt the moment you spot him and you quickly step to the side to hide behind the wall

you slowly lean over a little to peek at him

he has his headphones on and he's busy typing away at his laptop and you can tell he's concentrating really hard because he has that cute frown on his face and occasionally he'll mutter something to himself

jungkook in intense focus mode is something you find to be very endearing :-)

...

you quickly shake your head to snap yourself out of your daze before focusing on jungkook's face again

he certainly doesn't look like he just read an explosive love letter...

hm

you could still be safe!

...for now, that is.

"okay, y/n-" you stand up straight and let out a breath, giving yourself a mental pat on the head in an effort to calm your nerves, "better sooner than later, right? just- you just have to rip it off like a bandaid-"

your anxiety seems to build with every step that brings you closer to jungkook and you can almost hear the jaws theme song playing all around you

da-dum

jungkook, i swear i have a perfectly logical explanation for this...

da-dum

i know the note does a very convincing job of making it seem like i'm in love with you, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

da-dum, da-dum

consider this your initiation into our very serious prank war, my friend!

dadumdadumdumdumbdumbdumbthisissuchadumbdumbidea-

"hi!" you greet a little too enthusiastically, trying your best not to make it seem like you just sprinted across campus to get to him even though you very clearly did

"sorry, seat's reserv- y/n?" jungkook looks up from his laptop before frowning, quickly glancing back down at his screen to check the time as he pulls his headphones off to hang around his neck, "aren't you- didn't your class end, like, literally a minute ago? why are you so- did you run here??" he asks incredulously, getting up from his seat as his brows knit together in concern

"no, no! of course i didn't run here, silly- oh, god, give me a sec-" you wheeze, bending down and gripping onto the back of the wooden chair in front of you as you try to catch your breath, your chest still falling and rising at a concerning pace from the physical stress of sprinting and the mental stress of the current situation, "it was more of a- of a brisk walk, if you think about it- jesus, i think i'm gonna throw up-"

"okay, you need to drink some water- come and sit next to me-" jungkook reaches out to help lead you around the table towards him, "god, i don't know why you thought you had to run over, it's not like i was planning on going anywhere-"

"i'm fine, kook, it's fine-"

"you're, like, literally radiating heat," jungkook turns you around and pulls your bag off your back before pulling out a chair and helping you into it, "and your face is all red!" he frowns, setting your bag down on the table and unzipping it to pull out your water bottle

"my face is always this red!" you force out a casual laugh, waving your hand to dismiss him as you lean back against the seat, "i'm fine, it's fine-"

"shut up and take a sip-" jungkook untwists the cap of your water bottle before shoving it into your hands and gently lifting it up towards your mouth, his head tilting up a little so he can check and see if you're actually drinking anything, "c'mon, hydrate yourself-"

you swallow a couple gulps of water before pulling the bottle away and reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "god, i love water-"

"yeah, i bet." jungkook chuckles, visibly more relieved now that he knows you won't be passing out from exhaustion anytime soon

as you put your water bottle away, your eyes lower towards jungkook's backpack slouching against the leg of his chair and almost immediately the anxiety that you thought you'd just swallowed down bubbles right back up

"so, are you going to tell me why you're acting like the cops are after you?" jungkook jokes, taking his seat before pulling his headphones off and setting them down next to his laptop

"i just, um-" you press your lips together as you slowly start to lean down, stretching your arm out towards the pocket, "i just wanted to see you, buddy!"

"i don't believe that for a second." jungkook snorts, turning to look at you

you shoot straight back up and pull your arm up and behind your head as if you're in the middle of a good stretch, "hey, what's with that tone? it's not a crime for me to want to see you-"

"you saw me at lunch! and that was only like an hour and a half ago-" jungkook turns his head to look back at his screen and you quickly revert back to your mission impossible secret agent mode

the forced smile drops from your face and you lean back down, your fingers blindly feeling for the cool metal of the zipper

"you know, you actually came at just the right time-" jungkook speaks up again and you pause just in case you need to pull away from his bag, but he makes no move to turn and look at you, "ji-eun was about to leave for her class but now you can meet her before she goes off!"

"uh-huh..." your tongue pokes out in concentration as you unzip the pocket in one swift movement, immediately sticking your hand in and feeling around for the balled-up piece of paper, "sounds gre-"

hold on, what did he just say?

you shoot back up

"did you just-" you choke and reach up to pat your chest gently, "i'm sorry, did you just say that ji-eun was here?"

"uh-huh!" jungkook nods, "i didn't know she had a spare at the same time as i did so i was surprised when she came over to say hi- it turns out our schedules are, like, sort of similar which oddly makes me kind of happy-"

it's at that moment that you notice the cherry-patterned tote bag slumped in the chair sitting across from you and you let out a nervous chuckle as you shift in your seat, "great! great, that's so- great, it's great that i'm meeting ji-eun today, out of all days..." you trail off, glancing around warily as you try to come up with some kind of an exit strategy

you're just really not in the mood to meet the love of jungkook's life today

you've already been hit with so many blows and it's only two in the afternoon-

"sorry that took so long! i couldn't find a bin but i bumped into my friends and they said they'd throw it out for me-"

oh, you have got to be kidding me.

your eyes widen in mild panic upon immediately recognizing ji-eun to be the girl who had overheard your entire monologue in the bathroom earlier today — and from the way her eyes flicker, it seems as though she remembers exactly who you are as well

"oh, no worries!" jungkook beams at ji-eun before pointing to you with his thumb, "this is my friend, by the way. the one i was talking about earlier! y/n, this is ji-eun."

you stay quiet as you continue staring up at ji-eun, your mind racing a mile a minute as you consider your current options

you can pretend like you've never met her before or you can make things awkward by telling jungkook that you met her today after she'd emptied her bladder

"...y/n?" jungkook lowers his voice, nudging you with his elbow before letting out a nervous chuckle, "please say something."

"i- yes, hello!" you blurt out, the feet of your chair scraping against the rough carpet as you get up from your seat to stick your hand out towards ji-eun, "it's- ah- it's- it's so nice to meet you! i'm y/n."

ji-eun stays quiet for a second before her lips turn up in a polite smile and she reaches towards you, gently taking your outstretched hand in hers (for the record, her hands are shockingly soft and supple), "it's lovely to meet you... as well, y/n. i love your glasses!"

you can't help but notice the immediate warmth that seems to surround ji-eun and suddenly it makes a lot more sense as to why jungkook's attracted to her

you're about as comforting as stepping into a puddle of water while wearing socks

you feel a slight sense of relief seeing that ji-eun is playing along but your new concern is whether or not she's connected the dots that your monologue in the bathroom was dedicated to jungkook

you didn't actually say his name when you were talking out loud, so you might be able to get away with this...

"oh, these old things?" you reach up to feel the glasses sitting on top of your head before flicking your hand at her, "i bought them on amazon. they're blue-light glasses- i can totally send you the link if you want."

"that would actually be great!" she gasps, nodding enthusiastically, "i desperately need a pair of blue-light glasses- seriously, i stared at my laptop screen for, like, ten hours straight today and i really feel like they're about to roll out of my head-"

"oh my god, don't even get me started. at this point it'd probably feel better to rip them right out of their sockets-"

"ji-eun, you ready?"

"let's gooo, i wanna get an iced coffee before we head off to class."

you and ji-eun don't get a chance to continue bonding over the pain of sore eyes when you're suddenly interrupted by two new voices

you look up to see two guys approaching the table and you subtly push your seat back a bit as you prepare yourself to say hello again

"oh! yeah, i'm ready, sorry-" ji-eun gestures towards you with a smile, "this is- this is jungkook's friend, by the way. y/n, these are my friends."

"hi, hello-" you get up from your seat again to stick your hand out, offering the two (very handsome, might you add) strangers a friendly smile, "i'm y/n, jungkook's friend- but you- you already knew that because that's what ji-eun just said-"

"i'm taehyung! you can call me tae-" the corners of taehyung's mouth immediately raise in a bright grin and he gives your hand a firm shake before nodding next to him, "and this is jimin!"

"hi..." you trail off, turning to give jimin a handshake as well, "so nice to meet you!"

"oh, i just- i actually just washed my hands, so-" jimin chuckles, looking down at your hand before taking a small step back, "but it's nice to meet you... jungkook's friend."

ooh

is it just you or did it suddenly get a little icy in here?

"oh, no problem! um, yeah, you too." you pull your hand back before swallowing nervously and forcing the polite smile back on your face, "i like your jacket, by the way! it looks really cool."

maybe it's because he's wearing giant sunglasses indoors but you can't help but feel slightly intimidated by jimin

you can't see his eyes but you can certainly feel them on you and you're definitely getting the vibe that jimin is already not the biggest fan of you for some weird reason

"thank you." he responds curtly, smoothing a hand over the leather before looking down at ji-eun, "so can we go now?"

"mhm!" ji-eun gets up from her chair before pushing it back into place, pulling her tote back up onto her shoulder before flashing a sweet smile at jungkook, "see you later, alligator."

"in a while, crocodile!" jungkook responds enthusiastically, watching with twinkly eyes as she turns and heads off towards the exit with jimin and taehyung glued at either side of her

god

she even walks prettily

and you were literally clomping down the boulevard like a feral caveman a second ago

you wait until they've disappeared to turn and face jungkook with a raised eyebrow, "...jimin was kind of a bitch."

"hey, play nice!" jungkook frowns, reaching over to give your arm a gentle whack, "he's a fashion major! ji-eun says being snooty is part of the degree requirements-" he grins, shaking his head slightly before leaning back against his chair, "she's, like, super funny."

"mm." you hum, still feeling a little uneasy about your interaction with jimin

you just hate it when first meetings don't go well and that first meeting definitely wasn't super great

but it wasn't like you did anything wrong, right?

you were great!

snooty jimin was the one who was being rude

whatever

hopefully you won't have to hang out with him too often if jungkook and ji-eun become an item

maybe you can just stick with taehyung!

he seems to be a lot friendlier

"oh, by the way, i-" you're suddenly reminded of your main mission and you turn to point down at jungkook's bag, "it's not a big deal, but i- i accidentally shoved something in your bag earlier and- could i just get it back from you?"

"you did?" jungkook frowns, leaning down to pick his bag up before unzipping it all the way and pulling both flaps open, "what was it?"

"it was- uh- just some notes on a scrap piece of paper!" you immediately feel the weight lift from your shoulders at jungkook's cluelessness to the situation, "i put it in the right side pocket-"

"wait, are you talking about, like, a balled up thing of paper?" jungkook pauses before looking up at you with wide eyes, "oh, shit- was it important??"

"um, i wouldn't call it important-" you snort, shaking your head, "is it not there? i swore it was in the right side pocket-"

"no, no, it was there! it was there, i just- ji-eun needed to spit her gum out and i thought it was one of my scrap pieces of paper-" jungkook winces, grabbing his phone and unlocking it with fumbling fingers, "i'm so sorry, y/n- let me text ji-eun and ask her which garbage can she threw it into and i can go dig it out-"

"no, no, it's okay!" you nearly let out a screech of delight knowing that your note now has a slobbery wad of gum in it and is living at the bottom of a trash can, "it's fine, i just- they were just boring notes for something. i just wanted to see if i had really shoved it into your bag or not."

"oh, okay-" jungkook's shoulders immediately slump and he sets his phone down on the table, "you're sure it wasn't important?"

"100%." you hold both hands out with a chuckle, "i needed to throw it out anyway so i guess ji-eun actually did me a favour-"

"okay, phew." jungkook sighs, zipping his bag back up and plopping it back down on the ground next to his feet, "anyways- i'm actually glad you're here because now you can help me plan out my date! i was working on it but then ji-eun came and obviously i couldn't have that google doc open in front of her-" he turns his laptop to show you all of his hard work with a grin, "check it out! i have a list of things i need to buy, i have outfit ideas, i even went on pinterest for inspiration-"

"wow, kook-" your eyes bulge out for a second at the sight of the extensive and shockingly organized google doc before you reach over to pull his laptop closer towards you, "i... i really don't think i've ever seen you... even make a google doc before-"

he even has the sunset time written down for the date

why would he need to know what time the sun is setting??

"i have everything planned for next week." jungkook pulls his laptop back to him as you settle back against your seat, "i already emailed my landlord to ask if i would even be allowed to hang out on the rooftop and he said it would be fine! he also reminded me to keep a brick wedged between the door so that i don't lock us up on the rooftop-"

"so you're definitely going with the rooftop picnic, then?"

"oh, i'm actually changing it to a rooftop dinner instead of a picnic." jungkook shakes his head before giving you a half-hearted shrug, "i think a picnic is cute but i really wanna try to impress her, y'know? i ordered this thing on amazon just now- basically, it's a medium-sized inflatable bubble tent! the description says it's perfect for two people and- i'm gonna, like-" he pauses and looks away from his screen towards you with a smile, "well, you know, i'm gonna do what you said and i'm gonna stuff it full of blankets and pillows and... hopefully i can string up fairy lights and stuff on the inside... so that after the date we can go in there and just talk and not have to worry about getting attacked by mosquitos!"

"wow, that's-" you cross your arms over your chest before leaning back and looking up towards the ceiling, "huh. that's actually a cute idea, kook. i wouldn't have been able to come up with something like that. i didn't even know transparent tents existed."

"i know." jungkook gives you a smug little smile before bursting into a grin, "but yeah, that's it! all we have to do is go and pick up all the supplies and stuff."

"we?" you frown, looking back down at jungkook, "i... wasn't aware i was part of this plan..."

"what? of course you are!" jungkook snorts, looking at you as if a third eye just sprouted from your forehead, "obviously you have to help me-"

"well, i just don't know if that's-" you chuckle uneasily as you rub the back of your neck, "i really- i don't wanna get in your way, you know? maybe you should- maybe you should just take care of all of this yourself! i mean, you basically planned everything already-"

"what? but- but you're my-" jungkook deflates and you instantly feel bad upon seeing his eyes suddenly turn sad, "okay..."

you press your lips together and wait for him to say something else but the next few seconds are filled with nothing but awkward silence and the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights hanging above you

you'd jump off a cliff if jungkook asked you to but helping him prepare and set up his date is something that you,.., definitely would not enjoy.,.,

but then again, this isn't about you, is it?

this is about jungkook, your friend, and he needs your help to set up this very important date that-

oh, damnit.

"i'm-" you clear your throat as you sit up in your seat, reaching over to give jungkook's hand a pat, "no, of course i'll help, kook. i just thought that- well, this date seems so important to you that i thought you wanted to take care of all the details yourself!"

the bright smile immediately returns to jungkook's face and you resist the urge to call him out on so blatantly guilt-tripping you like that-

"yes! you're the best!"

"i know."

»»————- 🖤 ————-««

although you and jungkook are practically inseparable on campus (and some would say it might be healthy for the two of you to give each other a little bit of space) — you don't think you'll ever say no to hanging out with him downtown

of course, hanging out with jungkook downtown would be a lot more fun if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have basically spent the entire day shopping for all the things he needs for his date

and if it weren't for the fact that he paid for lunch and treated you to a cake pop and a venti-sized iced coffee, you would probably be livid about having to carry everything for him because you really feel like your arms are about to pop right off in about two seconds

fancy cutlery, porcelain plates, fluffy throw pillows, a giant blanket, fairy lights... at this point he might as well buy an entire house for ji-eun

and look, you know you probably sound bitter and that-should-be-me about this whole situation, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!

it's just that listening to someone you like gushing about the person that they like for an entire day while you're carrying bags full of things for their date can get a little mentally and physically exhausting so if you're grouchy right now it's really not your fault

"i think we might have to call an uber back to your place, jungkook-" you mutter, adjusting the hefty tote bag over your shoulder with a grunt as you trail behind him on the sidewalk, "bringing all of this on the bus is going to piss people off-"

you stumble over your feet a little when the bag in your right hand knocks into a garbage can and you curse to yourself while resisting the urge to kick the damn thing over

"okay, grumpy, we'll call an uber home-" jungkook spins around with a smile before raising the notepad in his hand and tapping against it with his pen, "i just have one more thing i have to take care of and then we can go!"

"okay, well-" you set the bags down onto the ground with a fwump! before rubbing your sore palms together, "what else do you have to get?"

jungkook offered to help carry a couple of things but you insisted that you'd take it all and that he should just focus on ticking off all of the items on his list

you wince at the sight of the pinkish-red imprints now embedded into your palms from the straps of the bags

obviously you've now come to regret your generous offer

"flowers!" jungkook chirps, using his pen to point to the flower shop a couple of shops down, "i have to greet ji-eun with a bouquet of flowers as pretty as she is-"

"yeah, i understand-" you adjust the two bags on both shoulders before bending down to pick up the other two on the ground, "also, i'm not a genius or anything but i'm pretty sure the flowers aren't going to survive until the date if you buy them now-"

"duh, obviously not- i'm going to place an order now and then pick them up on the day of the date!" jungkook tsks, waiting for you to join his side before he begins walking towards the flower shop, "thanks for doing all of this for me, by the way. you really are the best." he hums, hurrying over to open the door for you

"i... yeah, of course, kook." you feel yourself soften slightly as soon as you see the sweet little smile on his face and you quickly scold yourself in your head for being so curt with him all day, "that's what friends are for, right?"

"mhm!" jungkook slaps his hands down on your shoulders from behind before giving them a squeeze, "and i am so letting you choose whatever you want for dinner tonight-"

"hello!"

"oh, jesus-" you and jungkook are immediately greeted by an overenthusiastic employee as soon as you step into the shop and you honestly probably would've knocked him out with one of your shopping bags if they weren't so heavy-

"are you two looking for anything in particular?" he smiles kindly before gesturing towards the large selection of flowers all around you, "we have flowers of all kinds! roses, tulips, lilies- i can even show you flowers from our new tropical selection-"

"actually-" jungkook nudges you aside before glancing down at the employee's nametag, "seokjin, i'd like to place an order for a custom bouquet, if that's okay."

"ah, a custom bouquet!" seokjin claps his hands and rubs them together enticingly, "what are you celebrating? i need to know so that i can help pick out the perfect flowers for your bouquet."

"well, i don't know if it's a celebration-" jungkook chuckles, his cheeks pinking slightly as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, "it's for a first date."

"a first date!!" seokjin gasps excitedly before turning his head to look at you, "you must be so-"

"-oh, not for me!" you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, "it's- it's definitely not for me. i'm just here to provide moral support and-" you lift one of the bags to show him, "muscular support."

"ah, i see... okay, well- why don't i take you around and introduce you to the different candidates you could consider for your bouquet?" seokjin turns back to look at jungkook, "each flower you choose will be very important in showing your future lover how much you care about them-" he pauses when he notices you hovering behind jungkook and he leans over a little with a bright smile, "why don't you go and wait by the front counter, darling? you can put everything down there and take a little break. there's some cucumber water and fresh puff pastry apple roses up at the front if you're interested!"

"well, i can't say no to free food." you snort, nodding before turning to head towards the front counter, "i'll just wait for you over there, then..."

you nearly let out a moan of relief as soon as you set all the bags down and you twist your upper body to the right and to the left until you feel the a satisfying pop! of your spine cracking back in place

your body was not made to carry heavy things

in fact, you'd like to argue that your body was made to lie down and do nothing

you take a seat on the wooden stool before turning to look at the apple roses sitting prettily in the display case and you almost feel like you shouldn't touch them even though seokjin offered them to you

even the pitcher of cucumber water looks too nice to touch

this place is awfully fancy

you didn't even know flower shops could be this fancy

you prop both elbows up on the counter before leaning back comfortably, your eyes lazily scanning around the store

"$15 for a single rose?" you gawk at the little wooden sign poking out from a large bouquet of neatly wrapped long-stem roses before making a face, "god."

you can't even imagine how much a custom bouquet is going to cost if a single rose is fifteen bucks

"-also write a note for you and attach it to the bouquet, if you're interested in that. it'll be an additional five dollars, but we handwrite it on the highest quality card stock with the most beautiful calligraphy and we even spray it with perfume-"

you perk up when you hear seokjin's voice and you look to see him and jungkook coming over to you

you have to admit that seokjin is great at his job because he's doing a good job at milking every dollar out of jungkook-

"yeah, that would be great!" jungkook nods enthusiastically, pulling his backpack off before unzipping it to grab his wallet, "i think a small note might be cute-"

"oh, that reminds me!" seokjin stops in his tracks right as he's about to lift the wooden slab to get behind the counter, "would you be interested in purchasing a teddy bear as well? if you add a teddy bear to your order, i'll give you a slight discount on the flowers."

"ooh, a discount!" jungkook gasps and you turn your head slightly so seokjin won't see you rolling your eyes at how much he's forcing jungkook to buy

you respect the hustle but this is too much

"where are the teddy bears?"

"right by the flowers!" seokjin smiles, wrapping an arm around jungkook's shoulders and spinning him around, "we can round back and take a look-"

"okay, i think i have to cut in here-" you chuckle, reaching out and grabbing the back of jungkook's elbow, "you don't- you don't think a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear is a little too much for a first date?" you clear your throat quietly before offering a shrug, "i feel like that's just... a lot, kook. i mean, i would be overwhelmed if-"

"well, i guess it's a good thing i'm not taking you out on a date then, right?" jungkook teases, wiggling his arm out of your grip before turning back to look at seokjin, "onward to the bears, my good man!"

ouch

"yeah." you can't help but frown as jungkook and seokjin head back towards the flowers, "thanks for the reminder."

"that's gotta hurt."

"god-" you jump at the sudden appearance of an employee standing behind the counter and you place a hand over your chest before letting out a breath, "you scared me!"

"sorry." he shrugs, "we polished the floors this morning so my shoes are making, like, no noise."

"oh."

a moment of silence passes while you turn to face away from him again, but all of a sudden-

"so he really can't tell that you like him, huh?"

"you-" you immediately straighten up and your head spins around so fast that you're surprised you didn't complete decapitate yourself, "excuse me??"

"what? it's obvious." the employee snorts, spraying cleaner onto the counter before reaching up to yank the tattered rag off his shoulder, "it's painfully obvious, actually-"

you can feel your entire face starting to go red as this complete stranger continues to rip you a new one and you hold a hand out to shut him up, "no offense, but i-i don't think this is any of your business, sir-"

"it's yoongi." yoongi looks down at his apron for a second before frowning, "huh. i forgot to put my dumb name tag on again-"

"well, yoongi-" you place emphasis on his name in an effort to intimidate him and make him go away, "you don't know what you're talking about and i suggest you mind your own business-"

"you should tell him before it's too late." yoongi doesn't seem to be all that affected by your biting tone and you roll your eyes at the way he rounds back to the topic

"what are you even talking about?"

"well, i assume you're going to be his best man at his wedding. from the way it's looking, you're certainly not going to be the bride," yoongi purses his lips as he folds up the rag into a neat little square, "you don't wanna wait until you're fixing his tie at the wedding to tell him that you love him."

"what makes you think i lo-" you cut yourself off quickly before that word slips out of your mouth, "like him?"

"if you didn't, you wouldn't be here right now." yoongi points out with a tilt of his head, "and from how smudgy your eyeliner is, it looks like you've been working hard all day."

your jaw drops slightly and you can't help but scoff

the nerve of this guy!

"who do you think you are?!"

"i'm yoongi." yoongi raises a brow, "i told you that like a second ago- wow, you are not a good listener-"

"do you usually do this with all of the customers who come here?" you interrupt, crossing your arms defensively before leaning in slightly, "you're awfully nosy-"

"i only do this with the ones that seem to have something juicy going on." yoongi hums, leaning down to put the spray bottle of cleaner under the counter, "this is a flower shop. the most exciting part of my day is watching a bumblebee choose which flower to land on."

"well, nothing juicy is going on here so-" you twist back around before sticking your nose up in the air slightly, "sorry to disappoint."

"alright, fair enough." yoongi nods to himself, letting out a sigh as he slowly backs away from the counter, "i guess i'll just leave you to... wallow in self-pity... and continue staring at your friend with cartoon hearts floating around your head-"

"'you should tell him before it's too late-'" you swivel around and slap both your palms down on the counter, "why would you- why would even say something like that?! i can't tell him. are you insane?!"

a smirk twitches at the corner of yoongi's mouth at your sudden confession and he lets out a sigh before stepping back up towards you, "and why can't you tell him?"

"because- i just can't! he's-" you clear your throat before leaning in and lowering your voice, "he's literally taking someone else out on a date- we're here to buy flowers for his date-"

"so what?" yoongi interrupts, "it's just a date. it's not like you're stopping his wedding."

"so what? because he doesn't like me back, so what's the point?" you hiss, resisting the urge to reach over and smack some common sense into this very nosy and very stubborn stranger, "this isn't a romantic comedy- and even if it was, i'm very obviously not the main character-"

"you don't know that he doesn't like you back."

...

well now he's just toying with you

"i... i can't tell if you're kidding or not-"

"do i look like i'm kidding?" yoongi asks, pointing to his poker face before shaking his head, "you don't know that he doesn't like you back. you've obviously never asked him."

"oh, please." you scoff, turning around to lean back against the counter again, "trust me, i know it."

"well, did he ever explicitly say that he didn't like you?" yoongi leans over to peek at jungkook over your shoulder, "do you have a definitive answer to this particular question?"

"no, but he doesn't have to... we're just friends." you frown, your eyes wandering over to the back of jungkook's head, "he doesn't like me. i know he doesn't. we're just friends."

we're just friends.

(saying it out loud is a lot more depressing than you thought it'd be.)

"well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that," yoongi suggests, your head tilting to the side slightly as you force yourself to consider his surprisingly wise words, "it's obvious that you have a solid friendship so it would suck if a relationship ruined that- so maybe he does like you and is only asking someone else out to try to force himself not to like you..."

you feel your heart skip a beat when jungkook turns to glance at you over his shoulder with a soft smile while seokjin continues rattling off about the vast choice of teddy bears available for purchase

you bite back a giggle when he mouths a desperate 'help' at you before raising his hand and twirling his finger next to his head to tell you that seokjin is fully crazy

"...so i guess what i'm trying to say is that you're never really going to know how he feels about you if you don't ask him," you tune back in to the end of yoongi's little speech and you turn your head slightly to glance back at him, "but what do i know, right? i just polish counters at high-end flower shops."

🎙️tell jungkook he's being an idiot or tell y/n to get a backbone (send in an ask!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like smitten!)

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