#hi again I love how often I fulfill a request of yours and you respond by sending me keysmashes /pos

[chick-kin-nuggets]

haiiiii!!!! would you be alright with taking ockin requests... - 🔧🪨

If you can provide info on the character, that’ll be no problem!

[meowzfordayz]

hashira find out that you self harm

Author’s Note: as always, pls heed CW (content warnings). These were not written purely for comfort, but also w/ ~realistic reactions in mind, so while they def lean toward comfort, there’s a certain lvl of inherent discomfort and pain in them as well. 🖤

hashira find out that you self harm

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~1,900

CW: depression, explicit language, implied self harm, traumatic references

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Can I request kny x reader, (sanemi, michikatsu, genya, giyu, & rengoku)

of an s/o who sh & feels very s*icidal

tough times yk?

Emergency Request Fulfilled: A request, idk if this is gonna seem insensitive, but could you write the hashiras reactions if they found out the reader sh? I have been struggling with these things lately and would like to see something like that, but if you feel uncomfortable with it then you don't have to do this.

Emergency Request Fulfilled: I ended up breaking my streak of not sh-ing last night and I feel awful again. I was wondering if you could do a rengoku x Reader with that kind of subject material as a sort of pick me up. Sorry for bothering you like this it’s just I feel not so good rn and you’re someone who provides me comfort with your writing

kamaboko find out that you self harm

~faqs~

When they find out that you self harm…

… Gyomei doesn’t know what to say. His immediate reaction is to feel incredibly protective, but his gut tells him overreacting could push you even further away. “Oh.” A single word exhaled quietly from his mouth, and you feel yourself unraveling. “I-” Quickly, he collects himself. “Don’t apologize to me,” he asserts gently, “Thank you for telling me.” “You aren’t mad?” you ask shakily. “I’m confused,” he answers softly, “I want to protect you, but I’m unfamiliar with protecting someone from themselves.” Your heart twinges at his admittance as his arms wrap steadily around you, his palms pressed clammy and flat against your back, his embrace soothing even as his frown deepens.

… Obanai is furious. With himself, of course. A silent, dreadful anger that sticks to his spine, no matter how much he twists, turns, and talks with himself. He throws himself into research, a whirlwind of educating himself as best and as quickly as possible, all the while maintaining a light hearted, gentle facade whenever you’re beside him. “Are you okay?” you’ll ask sometimes, his sporadic urgency noticeable, “Something bothering you?” And he knows confessing his frustration won’t solve anything; guilting you or making you regret sharing yourself with him is the last thing he wants. So he shrugs, shooting you a lazy, intimate smile, suddenly grateful for how he can make his eyes twinkle above his mask, truthful grimace covered, “Just missing you.” “But I’m right here!” you exclaim, nudging him happily. “I know,” he mutters softly I know.

… Mitsuri cries. She doesn’t mean to. She doesn’t mean to make you comfort her. She doesn’t mean to make you apologize over and over until you’re both bawling, clinging to each other as though squeezing tightly enough might make your truth dissipate. But she does. She cries in your arms as you cry in hers, disbelief and sorrow rippling through her body. “I-I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, voice strained, unable to catch your breath as you gasp between sobs. “M-me t-too,” she whimpers lowly Me too. She’ll put herself back together later, determination to love you as hard and as fiercely as ever gradually overcoming her initial shock and dismay, even as part of her heart remains forever changed — forever afraid of losing you… to yourself.

… Shinobu struggles to maintain a boundary between being your partner and being your therapist. She’s not professionally trained in psychiatry, but she’s obviously knowledgeable when it comes to physical healing, sooo why not mental healing? That’s not how it works she often has to silently remind herself, seconds away from responding to your spiraling as though you’re in a therapy session together. Deep down, she knows all she can do is be there for you as she is. Not as she wishes she could be. Not as she feels she should be. But as she is. Am I enough? she wonders as she listens to your labored breathing, feeling you twitch beside her in your sleep I sure hope so she sighs, pressing light fingers to your overheated cheek, smiling faintly as your breaths gradually slow I really hope so.

… Kyojuro is distraught, but does his best to conceal it. For your sake. His sake. He isn’t really sure, actually. All he knows is he’s watching you fall to pieces in slow motion, and somehow, he still isn’t quite fast enough to catch all of you. Some days are easier than others. Those other days? He can barely bring himself to touch you.

“Kyo,” you sigh, fixing an even stare on his unnervingly neutral gaze, sorely missing his usual eagerness, “What’s going on?”

He promptly brightens, stepping forward to press a light kiss on your forehead, “Nothing is going on.”

Then why won’t you comfort me?

Wordlessly, you slip your arms around his waist, relieved when he accepts your embrace, confused that, “Then why don’t you hold me anymore?”

He frowns at that, head tilting, “I am holding you right now.”

With a snort, you mutter quietly, “No, Kyo, I’m holding you. It’s like you suddenly need my permission to-” interrupting yourself as realization hits, “Kyo.”

He blinks, feeling thoroughly ~caught, yet unsure what act you’ve caught him in.

“Yes, my love?”

“You don’t have to be scared of me!” you exclaim, bittersweet laughter rumbling in your chest, “I know I…” trailing off awkwardly, “I know I’m not okay, and I know you worry, but keeping yourself from me doesn’t help, solve, or ease, well, anything!”

“Are you certain?” he murmurs, dreadful despair leaking into his gut again, “I… do not know how to navigate this.”

Squeezing his hips, you glare fondly at him, “I know I’m not okay, and I know it pains you to hear me say that. I also know it pains both of us when you distance yourself. You don’t have to let me go. You aren’t the problem.”

But he nearly exclaims But I can’t save you!

“I don’t need saving,” you whisper instead, reading his perceived failure in the tremor of his fingers tracing up and down your spine, “I just want you to love me.”

I do he swallows thickly I love you so much.

… Sanemi leaves midway through your quiet, shaky explanation, fingernails nearly breaking the skin of his palms, mouth a thin line, lavender eyes too narrowed to discern the pain pulsing through his glare. You listen to the front door open, expecting a resounding bam, mystified when a nearly silent push of air signals his departure. Shit. You know then that he isn’t pissed. At least, he isn’t pissed at you. Which, really, would be easier to handle than the slow dripping tears glistening on his cheeks, clinging to his eyelashes; would be easier to handle than reading the single text he sends you I love you, don’t wait up; would be easier to handle than waking to the feel of him tracing hearts across your skin, bed warmer with his body, mattress dipping you toward him. “I’m sorry I left,” he whispers, somehow knowing you’re awake before you’ve even fully processed consciousness yourself, “I won’t do it again.” You mumble something incoherent in response, catching his hand with yours, pressing a sleepy kiss to his knuckles. “Fuck,” he hisses sharply, sob lodged in his throat, “You’re everything to me,” lifting your knuckles to his lips, returning your gesture Everything.

… Muichiro doesn’t understand why, but he does notice its consequences. He notices the tiredness glinting in your eyes, even though you’ve just woken up. He notices the slowness in your movements, even as you’re expressing excitement. He notices the harshness of your voice when you’re having a particularly difficult day, though he doesn’t understand why it’s particularly difficult. He voices his disconnect, curled up beside you on the couch, hands wrapped coolly around yours, apologetic and upfront. “I can tell when you’re in pain,” he says gently, “But I don’t understand the desire to then create more pain.” Shaking his head as you open your mouth to explain, he smiles softly, “I know it hurts to try and help me understand, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” brow furrowing as he sighs quietly, “That’s just it, I guess. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I don’t understand.” You know he means well, you know he isn’t upset, but it doesn’t get easier listening to him navigate your pain. “I love you,” you offer, leaning over to peck his cheek. He sighs again, soaking in your warmth, unable to identify the tight numbness in his chest, “And I love you.”

… Giyuu nods, thoughts racing even as silence settles between your anxious stare and his unblinking expression.

“Giyuu?” you tentatively prompt him, “This… this wasn’t easy for… for me to tell you.” 

Like an unpaused movie, he blinks into action, reaching for your waist even as he watches for the slightest hint of discomfort from you, ready to divert his movement if need be. You crumble into his touch, leaning heavy and exhausted against his chest, melting into the smooth reassurance of his hands splayed across your lower back.

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, eyes closed, “Thank you for trusting me,” resisting the urge to pull away, cup your face, and press his forehead firmly to yours, involuntary tears pricking the corners of his eyes, “Thank you for…” his voice fades, knowing he’d crumble en suite if he continued, desperate to remain steady for your wavering breaths.

“For what?” you choke out, “Giyuu.”

Thank you for staying he thinks somberly Thank you for loving me.

“Thank you for choosing me,” he finally whispers, “And thank you for letting me choose you.”

You laugh roughly, sound mangled in his shirt, “I’m a mess.”

He doesn’t deny your statement, instead pulling you closer, his heartbeat loud and promising, tears falling freely now. And that’s okay he wishes he could say Two messes are better than one he wishes he could quip How do I fix this? his fear stutters on repeat What do I do? underlying his tenderness, knowing all too well that he has only questions, and no way of answering them.

… Tengen takes it unexpectedly well. He listens patiently, nods at appropriate moments, and gently interjects with the occasional question, all the while kneading your thighs as you sit on his lap, watching you with a careful, encouraging warmth.

“You’re amazing,” he declares softly, “Not to belittle your pain, of course,” sadness simmering just below his faint smile, “But I want you to know that, after everything you’ve told me, my first thought is how incredible you are.”

You shrug, unsure how to accept his compliments, stripped bare as you glance downward, eyes closing.

“Hey,” he murmurs, familiar hand cupping your chin, “I know I can’t make you believe anything I say,” bittersweet sigh grazing your skin, “But I can at least share my own beliefs. I can at least share my own perception of you. I can love you.”

Your nose scrunches, eyes opening to meet his honest stare, swallowing your breath with a shudder.

“I’m here. Whatever you want to tell me, whatever I need to know,” voice thickening, “I’m not going anywhere. If you need me to be firm, I can be firm. If you need me to be quiet, I can bite my tongue. I’m your lover, your partner, and a resource.”

So let me fulfill all of those roles for you. Let me love you. Let me walk beside you. Let me taste your burdens as you’ve stomached mine.

“You don’t have to be responsible for me,” you chuckle weakly, attempting to ease the tension, “I don’t tell you things to make you carry them for me.”

“But I would,” he speaks steadily, “I know you wouldn’t ever ask me to,” maroon gaze dark, “But I would.”

He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he doesn’t know how else to convey the fragility in his heart; its overwhelming swell of aching and anger — the stark hopelessness of knowing he can only watch. Of knowing he can only listen. Of knowing he can only handle as much as you’re willing to give him.

[zapreportsblog]

Hiiii~!!! Can I request miles 42 with super chill/patient gf reader. Say like he is late, doesn't mean to flake on her, or keeps breaking promise time to time but reader is like "its ok love, things happen" only for miles to be something like "I am grateful you're not mad but why arent you mad?"

Omg, you are my first requester for a fic 😳 thank you so much for entrusting me to write this for you and hopefully you enjoy it :)

The Ebb and Flow of Love

➥ summary: miles is always canceling dates but his girlfriend doesn’t mind, she understands that he’s busy and he’s thankful for her for being so patient with him.

➥ earth 42 miles x reader

➥ a/n: hopefully I did good!!

In the bustling streets of New York City, Miles Morales—known to some as the Prowler—grappled with the challenges of juggling his double life as a hero and a boyfriend. The weight of responsibility often forced him to cancel dates and hangouts, leaving his girlfriend, (Y/N), feeling disappointed. Yet, amidst the chaos, their love remained steadfast, as (Y/N) embraced a deep understanding of Miles' commitments.

•••

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, (Y/N) sat patiently in Miles' apartment, waiting for his arrival. She had chosen a cozy spot on the couch, her favorite book in hand, knowing that their plans might yet again be disrupted by the demands of Miles' heroic endeavors.

The door creaked open, and Miles stepped inside, a mix of exhaustion and determination etched upon his face. He offered (Y/N) a sheepish smile, his voice filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, mi amor. It happened again—I had to respond to an urgent call. I didn't mean to cancel on you."

(Y/N) set aside her book, her gaze soft and understanding. "It's alright, Miles. I know how important your duty is to you, and I fully support it. We can always have a rain check for this date. Your safety and the well-being of others are paramount."

Miles sighed, relief washing over him as he realized the depth of (Y/N)'s understanding. He sank down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Thank you, mi amor. Your understanding means the world to me. It's not easy, balancing everything, but with you by my side, it becomes a little easier."

(Y/N) leaned into his embrace, her voice filled with reassurance. "We're in this together, Miles. I'm here to support you through thick and thin. Our love can weather any storm."

As time went on, the ebb and flow of Miles' responsibilities continued to present challenges. (Y/N) remained a constant source of support, always there to provide a listening ear and a warm embrace when Miles needed it most.

They established a routine of communication and understanding, openly discussing the demands of Miles' heroic life and finding ways to navigate the obstacles it presented. They learned to treasure the moments they did have together, whether it was a stolen hour for coffee or a quiet evening at home.

On those rare occasions when their plans were interrupted, (Y/N) would offer a range check—a time to reconnect and reschedule their missed date. It became a ritual that embodied their resilience and unwavering commitment to one another.

One evening, as (Y/N) and Miles settled into a cozy café, sipping their favorite drinks, (Y/N) couldn't help but voice her admiration. "Miles, I'm continually amazed by your dedication to others. Your willingness to sacrifice your own time and desires for the greater good is truly inspiring."

Miles smiled, his gaze meeting hers. "And I'm constantly in awe of your understanding and support, (Y/N). Not everyone would be as patient as you have been. Your love has been a beacon of light during my darkest moments."

(Y/N) reached across the table, her hand finding Miles' as she spoke from the depths of her heart. "Love is about embracing each other's dreams and aspirations, Miles. I believe in you, and I'm honored to stand by your side as you fulfill your purpose."

Their hands intertwined, the connection between them palpable. In that moment, they understood that their love was a force that could withstand the challenges life threw their way. Together, they would navigate the ebbs and flows of their journey, their commitment to each other serving as an anchor through the unpredictable tides.

As time passed, Miles' understanding of the importance of balance grew. He learned to prioritize self-care and to communicate his needs to (Y/N). Through open conversations and compromises, they found a way to maintain their connection amidst the chaos of their lives.

And so, in the vibrant tapestry of New York City, Miles Morales and (Y/N) embraced a love that transcended canceled plans and rearranged dates. Their bond grew stronger with each challenge, reinforcing their shared belief in the power of understanding, patience, and unwavering support.

Together, they wove a tale of resilience, knowing that their love could conquer the obstacles they faced. They celebrated the small moments, cherishing the range checks and the stolen seconds, understanding that their connection would endure, unyielding and unbreakable.

[otomiyaa]

The Foreigner

JingRen AU ft. Sampo

A/N: Posting this here after all cuz why not. A fic I wrote for a friend a while ago. I got the request for lee Sampo and lers Jing Yuan and Blade, we brainstormed a little and this was the result. Please note I'm currently still catching up on 2.1 so be careful with talking to me about any Honkai lore/spoilers 😅

Summary: Jing Yuan and Blade confront a mysterious foreigner called Sampo Koski who tried to sneak into the Xianzhou Luofu. Things get quite interesting, for all three of them. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 2.2K

He was late. Jing Yuan glanced at the door. Usually around this time of the day, Blade would make his entrance. A moment he found himself looking forward to more than he would like to admit. Blade visiting his office like a regular visitor was something he couldn’t have dreamed of for many many years. 

Ever since Blade had come to accept and realize that Dan Feng was truly gone, his waves of mara-caused madness started to reduce significantly. With time, Jing Yuan was delighted to finally see some traces of his trusted old friend, who despite their differences appeared motivated to exchange his Stellaron Hunter missions for regular visits, reporting to Jing Yuan about occurrences in the world, the good and bad. 

As they grew closer through these frequent visits, the feelings of familiarity may have gotten Jing Yuan a little too confident in reconciling with Blade, suggesting him to leave behind the Stellaron Hunters indefinitely and aid him with his duties at the Xianzhou Luofu instead. 

Surely he did not expect Blade would agree. Well, Kafka’s support may have played a vital role. Even if Blade would have said ‘no’, she seemed to insist he should stay behind and find a new role to fulfill, fully supporting the ‘happiness of Bladie’. 

Jing Yuan smiled. He felt comfortable, spending time with Blade who he shared a past with that connected them like no one else at the Xianzhou Luofu. Jing Yuan was just closing his eyes to reminisce about the past some more, when finally the door opened and Blade arrived. 

“Welcome back, Captain. You are quite late,” Jing Yuan said fondly. He nowadays called Blade captain, even though he was never officially assigned to such a position, he often assisted him so much he might as well be one. 

“Jing Yuan. There’s an infiltrant,” was Blade’s short answer. Jing Yuan chuckled. Blade was not the small-talk kind of person. 

“An infiltrant hm? Fine. Send him in.” 

He loved to see how Blade was literally treated as a captain when he merely had to call out “Guards!” and they came in to bring in their… guest.

“We brought the infiltrant,” they reported, shoving the man forward. Blade caught the stranger by the arm.

“Infiltrant? Now now now!” the man responded in a theatrical manner, pulling himself free before spreading his arms and making a full 360 degree twirl. Blade simply caught him again, shaking his head.

“Hello General,” Yanqing said, joining Blade, the foreigner and two guards in Jing Yuan’s office. 

“This man was caught making his way into the Xianzhou ships. We do not know how he boarded, nor what his intentions are. When we demanded him to tell us his identity, he said-” 

“-that I am Sampo Koski, a businessman, chaperon, and problem-solving conversationalist, visiting all the way from Belobog to help boost your economy.” 

“....That,” Yanqing said. Jing Yuan stared at all of them, then at Sampo, and at Blade. He chuckled. 

“Interesting,” he hummed. “Yanqing, please get in touch with our friends from the Astral Express. If this foreigner claims to visit from Jarilo-VI, they might be familiar with him. In the meantime, I will question him here. Blade, if you could assist…” 

Blade nodded and dragged Sampo towards him while Yanqing and the guards left the room. As soon as the door closed, it was silent. 

“So. Sampo Koski,” Jing Yuan said slowly, walking closer to study the man’s remarkable appearance.

“For what reason, may I ask, would you visit the Xianzhou Luofu? Unannounced, uninvited. Startling my men,” Jing Yuan wondered. 

“Business! Business of course. I come in peace, General.” 

Jing Yuan exchanged glances with Sampo. “Did they search him?” he asked. Blade did not answer but while not letting go of Sampo’s arm, instantly began to feel around his pockets. 

“Hehehey! Woohaha, cahahareful!” Sampo laughed, dancing and wiggling under the sudden touch. Jing Yuan noted the funny laugh, and Blade reacted with a low grunt.

“Quit your squirming,” he huffed, continuing to search him. 

“Let me help. Hold him still,” Jing Yuan said. To think Blade had ever been his prisoner before. Back then he would not have appreciated Jing Yuan telling him commands like this. How times had changed. Right now they worked together, and he smiled when Blade held both Sampo’s arms tightly so Jing Yuan could search his pockets. It made him laugh a lot.

“Hehehello! Sohoho inahahapropriate!” he cackled. Jing Yuan glanced at him. Was he that sensitive? Honestly.

“Credits, a lot of them. Not the usual amount you expect one should carry. Where did you get them?” Jing Yuan asked, putting his findings aside.

“Theft! Hey! I earned those, fair and square. Like I said, I’m an innocent fella coming over to do business! Hehehey stohohop!” Sampo yelled when Jing Yuan patted higher to find if anything else was hidden under his clothes.

“What is his problem ?” Blade asked. He sounded so frustrated it made Jing Yuan smile. How amusing.

“Never met a ticklish person before, Blade?” he asked. To demonstrate he pinched Sampo’s lower side, eliciting a loud yelp from the man.

“That’s nohohot okay !” he protested. The pinch was effective though, since Jing Yuan felt something right at that spot. 

“Blade… Hold him tight.” 

He probably didn’t need to tell him that, and Jing Yuan calmly tugged at Sampo’s clothing, fingers digging underneath it to grasp the thing he felt just now. Not without the unnecessary noise though.

“Hehehey! Wahahatch it! Hahaharrassmehehent!” he laughed. It was a crumbled piece of paper. Jing Yuan unfolded it and turned it for Blade and Sampo to see.

“A wanted poster? Yours?” he asked, confused. He looked at it again and frowned to see someone’s signature on it. It was very curly and gracious, but not informative.

“So, you claim to be from… Belobog. Should we rephrase that into: a wanted criminal from Belobog?” he asked, holding up the poster again. Sampo gasped.

“Me, a criminal? Nooo. That signature, you see. It’s from Gepard Landau himself!” 

Jing Yuan and Blade exchanged glances.

“Who?” 

Sampo nodded triumphantly. “Geppie. Captain of Silvermane Guards, very skilled, very handsome. He signed that for me. It’s just a token of our relationship.”

“...Why would he sign this?” Jing Yuan couldn’t help but think this man was wasting his time, but at the same time, he was wasting both his and Blade’s time, which made this situation only more amusing and entertaining. 

“It’s a long story. But you see Gepard likes me. So, I can only suggest you release me. Let’s not jeopardize the diplomatic relationship between Belobog and the Xianzhou Luofu now shall we?” 

“I have no idea what diplomatic relationship he is speaking of. Do you want me toー?” Blade already made a motion to get violent with the poor rambling man, but at that moment Yanqing came in.

“I received word from the Astral Express. Sampo Koski is indeed confirmed to be a mercenary from the Underworld of Belobog,” Yanqing reported. 

Sampo raised his eyebrows. “You see?” he asked.

“They also say he can’t be trusted.” 

Sampo’s jaw dropped. “Wait - t-that’s all they’re saying? Let them demand my release! March 7th and Stelle are my best, best friends!” he rambled. Jing Yuan almost wanted to laugh at the fact that Dan Heng wasn’t mentioned in this context.

“No one is demanding anyone’s release. Thank you, Yanqing. We will deal with him accordingly,” Jing Yuan thanked him, and Yanqing nodded and left them alone again. 

“So, business man from Belobog. Whether you are wanted by Jarilo-VI’s Silvermane Guards or not, one question remains unclear. Why are you here , and how did you slip past the guards on our ship?” 

“I know of ways to make him talk if y-” Blade was cut off by Sampo’s renewed bouts of laughter; Jing Yuan casually tapped his fingers against his lower side, impressed by how much it tickled him.

“I do too, Blade. Trust me,” he said, improvising. If his relation to Belobog was still unclear, he was not going to bring harm to him. However, if this man already proved to be this ticklish from a mere pat-down, then he was more than happy to see how much this certain sensitivity could help them further.

“What are you doing?” Blade hissed, barely hearable through Sampo’s laughter.

“Persuading our guest, Blade. If he’s a friend of this Captain Gepard Landau, it is not my intent to hurt him. However, some persuasion to give us more information will do the trick.” 

Jing Yuan clawed very lightly at Sampo’s lower sides, and the man jerked in Blade’s hold.

“Hehehehey nohohot thahahat!” he shrieked. Oh, this was way too easy. 

“Persuasion? You are playing around,” Blade responded, but Sampo’s arms were still trapped in his grip and he wasn’t letting go. 

Blade’s confusion and frustration only encouraged Jing Yuan more to keep up this silly game with their foreign guest.

“Join me, Blade,” Jing Yuan said, smiling gently at Blade who looked like he was having the worst day ever.

“You have to be kidding me,” he replied angrily. With Sampo Koski’s hysterical laughter in the background, it only sounded funnier.

“I am not,” Jing Yuan said. Blade rolled his eyes.

“You are insufferable,” he said, but still he did let go of Sampo so he could claw viciously all over his ribs, almost looking like he was going to tear the man apart, but the tickling did seem to be working since Sampo flailed his freed arms wildly and screeched.

“WHAHahat ihihis this ahahah! This plahahace is sohoho weheheird!” he laughed. Jing Yuan didn’t care that he was giving the impression that this was the normal way of doing interrogations at the Xianzhou Luofu. He was having fun with Blade here, and he was convincing the mysterious foreigner to speak the truth. Two flies, one stone.

“See? It’s easy,” Jing Yuan said when Blade effortlessly moved his fingers against Sampo’s torso, making him laugh and wheeze as he struggled in between them.

“It’s ridiculous,” Blade argued. And yet, he was cooperating. Jing Yuan smiled. He had switched his tactics to poking Sampo’s tummy relentlessly, and he went back to interrogating him.

“Mr. Koski, if you wish to make the torture stop, I encourage you to confess everything we want to know. Who are you really, why and how are you here. It’s that simple.” 

“AHahahah! I cahahan’t tahahalk like thihiihis!” 

“You are talking now, so I’m sure you’ll-” mid-tickle, Jing Yuan’s hands accidentally touched Blade’s, and for some reason that made him stop talking. Blade immediately pulled his hands back and moved them up all of a sudden, digging his fingers under Sampo’s arms and tickling his armpits viciously.

“You know what you are doing,” Jing Yuan complimented while Sampo’s voice did quite something else.

“AAAHAHahah hahahang on! Ahahaalright - I’ll speheheheak! Nonono not thehehere!” 

“Stop talking,” Blade said. Was he… flustered? Maybe a little. Jing Yuan chuckled. 

“I can’t help it. It makes me happy that perhaps you may remember we used to do this, back in the High-Cloud Quintet days.” 

“Nonsense,” Blade said, but he wasn’t reacting too harshly. 

“Do you remember?” Jing Yuan urged.

“I do not.” 

Jing Yuan smiled fondly. If he was the only one remembering that in a distant past they would get silly and tickle each other - well mostly he would tickle Yingxing and piss him off - then maybe one day he should help Blade remember. 

“I sahahaid I’ll speheheak! Nohohoo !” Jing Yuan only noticed now he had been drilling his fingers into Sampo’s torso while keeping his eyes locked with Blade’s.

Blade also blinked and dug his fingers under Sampo’s arms some more, making him howl. 

“Whhaahaht is happeniihihiing aaahahaha!” Sampo cried helplessly, unable to shake both of them off. Jing Yuan figured they had gotten a little lost in their own world, and he snapped out of it. 

“Right. That should do it.” Blade understood him well and also stopped the tickling. Sampo sank on his knees and gasped for air. 

“I can handle it from here. Will I see you at dinner, later?” Jing Yuan asked. Blade looked at him, his expression somehow different than before the strange shared tickle interrogation thing, and he nodded.

“Yes. Later.” He walked away and left the room. Only Sampo was still left, on his hands and knees, shivering as he recovered from his laughing fit.

“Mr. Koski, shall we try again? I ask you a question, and you give me your honest answer.”

“Or else… You’ll tickle me huh?” Sampo said breathlessly. Jing Yuan chuckled. 

“I might.” 

“A-alright then,” Sampo said, and as he started to talk in a less arrogant and theatrical, more serious manner, Jing Yuan listened, but at the same time drifted off as he thought of Blade. 

He wasn’t sure if it was the nostalgia, or the shared action of making a random person laugh. Laughter could be a medicine after all, even if it wasn’t their own? 

Somehow he felt like this encounter with the strange foreigner changed something between them, in a positive way, and he couldn’t wait to improve and rebuild his relationship with Blade more after this. Heh. Thank you. Sampo Koski.

[ryujnn]

► akuma ﾟ｡ ⋆ a photograph without a face.

► chapter summary ﾟ｡ ⋆ closing one chapter in your life means opening the next — starting the first few pages off with gin, tonic and your husband.

► chapter warnings ﾟ｡ ⋆ gojo being flirty. mature language. mature themes if you use a magnifying glass. mentions of death and funerals.

► note ﾟ｡ ⋆ GOJO X READER CONTENT WOO!!! i can’t wait to write their dynamic now that she’s starting a new chapter *cries* i love this series so much. dont forget to send me an ask and lmk how you enjoyed the chapter!

tag list. visual + character board. prev. next.

“Will you be home late, Mrs. Gojo? We’ll have the guard on watch prepare to let you in whenever you arrive.”

You smiled at the lady, bowing slightly to thank her. “Yes, I’ll be home a little later than usual,” Brushing your palms against your black dress, hands shivering just slightly. “If my husband arrives before me, tell him I’m sleeping.”

Not like he’d check anyway. Silly — that’s what it felt like — sneaking in and out of where you lived and making alibi’s. That happens in movies, not marriages.

The lady bows, nodding with your request. She’s not sure what the tension between you were, she’s noticed since you first moved in — newlyweds don’t act or treat each other the way you both do. Is that her business, though? It is not.

“Alrighty,” She sends a warm smile. “I know today’s a rough day. I hate funerals.”

Unaware how to respond, who would even like funerals? All you could muster up was another nod, another small and forced smile, and a wave as you left.

As you exited the entrance, watching your car pull up to escort you to your family home — you’re met with another car, Ichiji to be specific, honking his normal pattern to alert Satoru that he was outside and not waiting fifteen minutes for him again.

With wide eyes, wanting to avoid the man at all costs after the situation last night, you clutch your purse to your chest and run as fast as you could, strapped heels, to your awaiting vehicle. Even with the smallest steps, bag held to your chest to control the movement of your bust and to keep a hold on your purse; the scene was pitiful.

Walk… or Run of Shame to your own vehicle? With nothing to be shameful of? What the hell was this marriage?

Once you were settled in your car, huffing out a breath and tugging your seatbelt on, you prayed and thanked the gods before you that you hadn’t bumped into Gojo, and he hadn’t seen that embarrassing scene.

All the while, your husband had been watching from his window on his side of the house. He’s got a stupid grin on his face, finding the whole thing silly. If you were avoiding him or running late, he wasn’t sure where you were headed, but wherever it was; you must’ve been in a rush.

Cute. He’s been noticing that adjective popping up in his mind whenever he saw you. Even when you didn’t see him catching a glance — he was always watching.

Cute; when you walked into your shared kitchen and spotted your husband with a towel wrapped around his waist, the back of muscles flexing all the scars he had littered on them. He’s never seen you so red..

Cute; whenever you wake up while wiping your eyes, walking diagonally to the bathroom and almost running into the wall.. every morning.

Cute; the way you softened and eased when he arrived as your knight and shining armor around Geto; saving you from the fear of being humiliated in front of your students.

Whatever was in the water, he wanted it out; fast. He has too much going on, has a promise to fulfill and children to look after. He’s gotta try and save his best friend from doing a horrible mistake — and protect Japan of the upcoming war Suguru declared. He doesn’t have time to fall in love with the woman he married.. however that sounded to a persons ear.

But he can care, right? He can care, he can find the things you do cute. Just, not too often. And there goes that honking again — Ichiji! The man’s having a moment here!

You’ve never been to funeral.

The way your clan works, there weren’t funerals unless it was for the head of clans and unfortunately, you weren’t alive when the originator died. Whenever a female baby was born, then unfortunately put to their deaths, they would simply be buried by a guard in a random landfill spot in town.

You’re convinced your mother was only being granted a funeral because she gave birth to another five bearer — two at that. Because she was lucky enough to have kept both kids and died from her condition.

As the people who never spoke to your mother or even cared to check on her condition, only worrying about Ryou and how he’ll become the successor of the clan… they’d take the stand and speak up about her amazing life and how much of an amazing mother she was.

You’ve only seen five percent of the people attending this funeral, and there were over three hundred.

“An amazing healer she was. She healed my son’s foot after our yearly baseball game, the home run Ryou threw was quite the ball.”

“Ryou, I know it must’ve been hard to see and hear about your mothers passing while traveling.”

“Son, your father will teach you what your mother couldn’t finish. All you need is family.”

“My heart aches for you, Ryou.”

Was it mentioned that Ryou Shio sat next to you, his sister, who’s in between her father and brother — front row as if he’s watching a hockey game.. sucking up all the attention?

You quiver. Ryou never even visited your mother while she was sick, only on the yearly athletics. It made you ill knowing he was the only child receiving condolences when you were the one picking your mother off the floor and escorting her to the bathroom. You were the one braiding her hair when she couldn’t do yours or her own anymore. You were bathing and feeding her.

You.

No matter how much she used her healing sorcery and technique, it was never enough — it would never heal her.

Once your third brothers wife’s cousin, who didn’t even know your given name was Shio, cried about the loss of your mother and how extremely broken Ryou Shio must be, it was your turn — the final speech — to lay your mother to rest once and for all.

“Hello,” You clear your throat, catching everyone’s attention. They weren’t amused, they weren’t as shocked as they were when your twin brother was up here speaking. But that’s okay, because this wasn’t about you, or your bother — just your mother. “Thank you all for attending. I’m Y/N.. Gojo, maiden Shio, and Himari Shio was my mother.”

That got everyone’s attention for sure. There was only one Gojo known.. Satoru Gojo. Six eyes. The propaganda— the man everyone wanted to meet, see, touch and maybe even more.

“My mother wasn’t physically the strongest. She’s never trained or fought… she stayed home with me. Nonetheless, she’s stronger than anyone else here.”

The way the faces turned at you. Some scowls, some head turns and a few with genuine confusion on your statement.

“She might not have fought physically, but she definitely fought for me. I could’ve ended up dead, just like some of your daughters are.. but I’m not.”

“She fought for her children unlike any of you did. That makes her strong, makes you weak. Me, the child that should’ve died, I’m going to battle my brother; whether I die or not. Why? Cause my mother trained me not to quit. Trained me to keep my hair tied up because I always needed to be ready to fight.”

“Trained me by hiding my toys around the house and making me able to scope out places that no one would think of — or show me places people would think of. Trained me by purposely asking for things on the other side of our estate, making me run so my stamina could build. My mother did that after fighting for her daughters life. She’s the strongest while all of you… you’re weak.”

“Y/N!” Your father stands, making up for both Ryou’s hard expression and his very own.

“You’re pathetic,”

Next Ryou stood tall as if he could give a shit about his mother to begin with. “Y/N?!”

“And my mother deserved better than this excuse of a clan.. created by someone who couldn’t get it up in the first place.”

The gasps filled the room like music— and it was a song you’d love to hear on repeat. You’ve got some nerve, you know you do.. but you could care less. Just months until your fight and whether you win or lose, you wouldn’t want to have any regrets to begin with.

Like clockwork, your father stormed up the steps and onto the platform, aiming right for you. All you could do was tilt your head, placing both hands on your hips and await for what was next.

“You’ve lost your mind,” You’ve heard that before. Maybe a few screws did go loose. He’s got a deathly grip on your arm, immediately stopping blood circulation in your vessels. He tugs you forward, causing you to stumble on your heels. “You want to be scattered with Himari? I’ll sprinkle your ass right with her.”

Even though his words were low, eyes could read lips like a book if interested enough. “Be careful now,” You match his volume, moving closer to his ear — to the audience, it looks like a hug. “Won’t win ‘daddy of the year’ if you’re abusing your kids publicly.”

As much as Sousuke despises you and the fact your breathing, you have a point. He releases the grip on your arm and sends you another warning look before stepping away to the microphone.

“My deepest apologies for my daughters behavior. She’s handling this pretty rough considering her relationship with Himari,” Sousuke’s putting on a show. Revealing grieving eyes and a painful stare. “The service will start in a few minutes, please meet us out there.”

As the people sitting in their seats stand to make way outside, your father catches glimpse of a figure walking dangerously close and moves like the speed of light, holding an arm out to block your brother.

“You just had to make it about you, huh?” Ryou’s held back by your fathers burly arm, who’s trying to calm him down and beckon him to just leave it alone.

You shrugged, keeping a bored and unamused expression on your face. “That’s rich coming from you,” You almost chuckle. “Considering no one’s here for my mother, and only to see you in the flesh.”

“Sounds like jealousy.”

You roll your eyes. Yeah, you were definitely jealous — it was the whole reason you were going through with the battle. Did your brother have to know that? No, he didn’t.

Sousuke drops his arm from your brother, though he kept an eye on both of you. Considering the tension between you both, he was afraid the fight would start earlier than it should’ve. And from your expression alone — he’s sure he’d be watching a fight and not you just getting your ass handled.

You wouldn’t allow it to go any further. You’ve said your peace, and the only thing really binding you with your family was your mother. Now that she was gone, and this was about putting her to rest — you didn’t have to be here anymore. Didn’t have to talk to your family for anymore arrangements or asking to speak to your mother.

In a way, just a slim way, you were free. Just like her.

A small chuckle left your lips as you clasped your hands behind your back. “I’ll make everything easy, I’ll go. I just ask for one more thing.. after, you won’t have to speak to me until the fight,”

“Keep me some of her ashes. I’d want to sprinkle them at our lake.”

You’ve never had one of these before.

The last time you almost downed an alcoholic beverage, your mother ended passing out. You’ve never had the time to enjoy alcohol, either. Taking care of your mother, wedding planning, funeral planning — and hey, even planning your own death!

(Lmao.)

“Drink the whole thing. If you sip it, you’ll hate it.”

And you’ve taken that advice too literal. Now you’re several shots in, this new foreign feeling giving you pure euphoria. You’ve got a small smile on your face, resting your jaw in your palm, babbling to your bartender.

“I can.. I can shoot water from my nipples too!” A small giggle leaves your lips, using your free hand to point at your breasts. “F’you wanna see, I… I can show you.”

“Ah, no! It’s alright!” He chuckles back, making a mental note to cut you off. He can’t ignore the little grin on your face, eyes fluttered closed with your cheeks burning a faint red. You were cute. “Can I see your phone?”

Normally, you’d say no. But the fact he’s even asking for your phone makes you giggle even more than you were before and you’re sliding your device over to be bartender who’s served you an amazing selection of fruity beverages.

Normally, you’d be thinking: What the fuck? Absolutely not! Asking for my phone to put a tracker on it or something? Creeper.

Instead, you’re thinking: That’s so funny! A bartender asking for my phone.. this isn’t T-Mobile! Silly bartender, bartender so silly.

He accepts, triple clicking your phone for your emergency contacts. The first number he calls, the phone goes straight to voicemail. It then tells him the number has been turned off, and though it confuses him — he goes to the next number.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“What’s wrong?”

The sudden question catches the bartender off guard, nonetheless, he clears his throat cautiously. “Hello, Is this Mr. Gojo?” Earning a hum in return. “I have… what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Pour me ‘nother.. one of those sweet thingies. Want sugar on my cup this time, no salt puhlease.”

“Your name.”

“Mm.. Shio!”

There’s no point trying to get anything else out of you, nonetheless, he relays the message back to the man on the phone.

“I have… Shio here. She’s had a lot to drink. She walked here, and she’s offering a few things I’m sure she���s not supposed to.”

There’s a soft breath on the other line before he speaks up. “Thank you. Could you send me the location? I’ll be there a few.”

And as requested, the bartender does.

Within 10 minutes of the call, there’s a jingle at the door, revealing at six foot man in his work uniform. Ivory hair falling past his cerulean blue eyes. He scoped out the room until his eyes fell on you.

He’s made his way over, leaning against the bar until your flutter your eyes open, your mascara catching under your eyes. Whether you were crying or sweating, it makes his heart pang. He wants to comfort you, hold you and tell you it’s okay — but he doesn’t even know why you were sad today.

Doesn’t even know where you were.

He doesn’t know anything going on with you anymore. Himari’s not here to tell him, knowing you wouldn’t, so now he’s in the dark.

Either way, he wants to get you home.

“You.. mm, hi.” You sit up in your seat, trying to fix your hair subconsciously. His gaze wasn’t intimidating— it wasn’t scary, but you still wanted to make sure you looked nice for him.

All for him.

“Hi.” Satoru responds, squatting down to the ground. He looks up at your from his position, sending you his thousand dollar smile. “Havin’ fun?”

You’re peering down at him, nodding quickly to his answer. “Sleepy.”

He chuckles, shooting up from the ground. He grabs your hand gently, intertwining his fingers with yours. He could coo at the size difference, but he’s gotta keep it together. He’s got to get you home and in bed.

“Thank you, bud,” Gojo bows slightly to the bartender, who returns it. He pulls a big bill from his back pocket, and he’s sure enough it’ll cover everything you had and even slip in a tip, tossing it over to the bar.

“I’m gonna go lock the door, stay right there.”

Of course you wouldn’t. You dropped your stupid, wobbly heels and made your way to the kitchen. You knew you wouldn’t be able to jump on the kitchen island, so you opted to crawling up on it.

You were sure you looked trashy. Black dress riding up as you struggled to get up on countertop, but you could care less right now. You felt great. Warm, happy — free.

Once you were settled, you caught sight of your husband. He’s got his hands covering his eyes, waiting for you to give him the ‘okay!’ to drop them. He probably caught glimpse of your ass, considering you were just on display.

And the cute smile on his lips as if he’s seen underwear for the first time.

The image makes you giggle, shaking your head at him. “M’all covered now,” Gojo drops his hands cautiously, making his way over to you at a comfortable distance. “You could’ve looked f’you wanted. You’re my husband~.”

Now it was Gojo’s turn to turn red. Sure, he’s looked at you in dresses, or those tight jeans you wear to the school.. but imaging you in your underwear? God, he feels like a pervert.

He shakes his head. “You’re only sayin’ that cause you’ve been drinking,” He nods his head over to your side of the estate. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

“M’serious,” You extended your leg, attempting to pull him forward. “I.. I wouldn’t mind. But I don’t think you’d want to. S’okay, I jus’.. Don’t care if you look or stuff like that.”

Now his curiosity is piqued. He tilts his head, ignoring your little attempts to pull him forward. “You don’t think I’d want to? What’s that mean?”

You shrug your shoulders, a natural yet drunk pout on your lips. “Y’don’t let me touch you,” You hold your hands out, palms facing him. “I’ve only touched you during the wedding. You always have the.. thing on. But you let other people touch’ya. I know we’re not as close, but, ‘dunno. Guess I was thinkin’ I could too.”

“You wanna touch me?”

Nodding yes, please. Maybe it was the liquid courage, maybe it was the recent thoughts you’ve had. You’ve wanted to touch your husband badly. A hug, a kiss, even if it was a shove, you wouldn’t have minded.

There’s just something intimate about being able to touch someone without feeling uncomfortable, or untrustworthy to the point where your frying your brain just so they wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on you.

You didn’t think you were that bad.

There’s something Gojo can’t miss in your eyes. If he travels away from the intoxication and the sadness.. there’s something else. He wants to see it without the other two— therefore, he doesn’t look too deep.

But he’s caught a glimpse of where your mind wonders.

In return, he raises his palms to yours, leveling himself until you were skin to skin. He watches your eyes widen and soften within seconds. Your hands cup around his wrists, and up his arms. With the little strength you have left, you pull him forward more, until he was between your legs.

Really close.. that’s what he was. You thought you were dreaming for a moment. He smelled sweet yet so masculine, like a woody caramel.

Your hands raise cautiously to his jaw before pulling them away, covering your hand over your mouth. “M’sorry,” You shake your head, squeezing your eyes together until it was painful. “That’s too much. Sorry—”

“I didn’t say stop, did I?”

Gojo knows he’s playing a dangerous game. There’s a slim chance you’ll remember this in the morning, and even if you did — so what? After the day he’s had today, what he’s witnessed alone.. it put a lot on him. And for some strange reason.. all he wanted to do was see you.

Hear your voice, even if it was from an argument.

See you smile, even if it wasn’t for him.

With his invitation, he watched you sit up like a child being offered candy before dinner. Your small hands cupped his cheeks, squishing them together and giggling at the way his glossy, pink lips puckered.

He’s got the prettiest lips.

You wish part of you didn’t hate him. You wanted to know why he married you — you wanted to know why he cared so much yet so little. You wanted to know the relationship he had with your mother — who Suguru Getou was and why he was so stressed out lately.

You wanted to know a lot, you wanted to know too little.

You were tired.

Gojo felt your hands drop from his face and watched the excitement fall from your eyes as he countered this moment over. Even for the few minuets you enjoyed roaming his skin and exploring something you never had, he loved every second.

You look down to your legs, “Sleepy.”

He clicks his tongue, laughing gently at your small words. “Let’s get you to bed then, hm?”

His large palms scoop under your thighs and pops you up into your chest. Your legs wrapped around him stomach cautiously, your head resting against chest once your arms laid over his shoulders.

Satoru made sure his steps were calculated and slow, just to keep you in his arms a few seconds longer — and to enjoy this moment just a little bit more. Come the morning, this would all be a dream to you.. and be his reality.

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[fibula-rasa]

Favorite New-to-Me Films

January ’24

READ on BELOW the JUMP!

(listed in order of collage above, L to R)

Eleven P.M. (1928)

[letterboxd | imdb | kanopy]

Synopsis: Sundaisy, a violinist, tries to fulfill a friend’s dying request to ensure his son is raised away from the criminal element of the city. Unfortunately, Sundaisy is duped by a phony priest, and the boy grows into a low-level crime boss. After a series of misfortunes spurred on by the boy over the course of decades, Sundaisy’s family is nearly ruined. However, Sundaisy’s will for vengeance leads to supernatural consequences. All this is couched in a frame story of a man trying to meet an 11 p.m. deadline.

This is easily my favorite first-time viewing of the month. The synopsis above admittedly does not capture the mystical/transcendental attitude that Eleven P.M. reflects. This is the only film Detroit-based Richard Maurice ever directed, but it displays sophisticated ideas about film storytelling, using an array of devices in inventive ways. It’s always a treat to be reminded of how creative and exciting independent filmmaking can be in America. If you want to check this one out, I advise you to keep an open mind and not approach it with an overly literal, nitpicky mindset. Let Richard Maurice take you on this ride and I don’t think you’ll regret it!

I watched this on the Pioneers of African-American Cinema box set, which I can’t recommend highly enough. The films are outstandingly curated and contextualized and the set showcases an often-overlooked but indispensable part of American cultural history. A lot of the films are also available on streaming through kanopy, which you may be able to access with your library card if you live in the US.

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Lea on Rollerskates / Lea sui pattini (1912)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Synopsis: Lea isn’t allowed by her parents to go rollerskating with a friend, so she decides to skate in her own bedroom. She proceeds to wreak havoc in the home before an accidental self-defenestration sets her free to wreak havoc at the roller rink instead.

A jam-packed, stunt-heavy bit of nonsense led by Lea Giunchi. I’ve watched quite a few of her films now and I’ve learned this is pretty standard for her. I love each and every pratfall.

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Two Girls are in Love with Foolshead / Le due innamorate di Cretinetti (1911)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Synopsis: Cretinetti is dating two girls at the same time. The girls decide to duel, but Cretinetti is the one who loses… repeatedly.

I’ve finally gotten around to watching more Andre Deed films and this one was a highlight for January. I don’t know who the skinny woman is, but she and Valentina Frascaroli are great together.

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X (2022)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Synopsis: A crew of filmmakers leave Houston, TX for the country in order to film a farm-themed porn. The producer of course did not disclose the nature of their stay to the elderly property owners. Said owners have ulterior motives in renting their cabin and respond violently to the group.

Appreciative of all of Ti West’s work, and X has so much going on and so much to say that I originally typed out two full pages (single spaced) on it before I knew it. I won’t be sharing those two pages because I think there are a few points on the approach to gore in recent horror movies that I need to mull over more. For now though, I’ll just say, I didn’t enjoy X at all, but I deeply appreciate what Ti West is putting out there. I probably won’t watch it again and I’m going to be sure my stomach is prepared for whenever I get around to Pearl (2022).

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The Hayseed (1919)

[letterboxd | imdb | Silent Comedy Watch Party]

Synopsis: Fatty wants to marry Molly, but so does the sheriff. Buster tries to keep the general store in working order while the sheriff plots against Fatty.

Luke the dog is one of my top 5 movie dogs of all time. I’ve never made an official list, but I know in my heart that Luke is at the top. Also, I adore how many modern professional wrestling moves you end up seeing in Fatty/Buster collaborations! In this instance, note the dance sequence with the lady who gets swung around wildly.

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The Ghost Ship (1943)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Synopsis: Tom Merriam, a young officer, reports for his first commission on a long haul trip on the Altair. The captain has a bit of a strange vibe, but the newbie likes him, at first. As crewmen perish under the captain’s leadership, and the captain’s lectures take on a more sinister tone, Tom knows he needs to act to save the remaining crew and the ship. 

Checked this out as I was on a Val Lewton kick not knowing much about it beforehand. I did not expect it to be a movie about fascism done in microcosm. So, if you were looking for a movie about ghosts or a Flying Dutchman, this ain’t it. Its off-beat structure amped up the tension, though the denouement was a little too pat. Cinematography was fantastic, as you might expect from Nicholas Musuraca. I hope Sir Lancelot got two checks for how much his singing contributes to the movie. Richard Dix is such a skilled actor in everything I’ve seen him in, but he is pitch-perfectly terrifying in this movie.

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Miss Pinkerton (1932)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Synopsis: A nurse who’s bored with hospital work gets assigned to an old woman who’s ailing after a big shock: finding the dead body of her nephew. The detective on the case asks the nurse to gather reconnaissance for him at the house and she gets all the excitement she can stomach as a result.

Miss Pinkerton is a pre-code gem I somehow have never seen before, despite my devotion to Joan Blondell. The plot and characters are interesting, the cinematography (done by Barney McGill) and staging of the film is very dynamic and Joan Blondell brings so much to Miss Pinkerton with her signature effervescent sass. It’s also just over an hour long, so it would make a great watch for one of those evenings where you’re indecisive but want to find something compelling but compact.

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Phil-for-Short (1919)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Synopsis: Damophilia “Phil” Illington is a free-spirited tomboy brought up by a Greek-professor father and his right-hand man, Pat. Her lack of lady-like decorum raises the ire of two town elders, who are also the local killjoys. When her father passes away, one of the elders abuses his position of power to force her into a conservatorship. Phil disguises herself as a boy and hightails it with Pat. While on the lam, Phil makes the acquaintance of a young woman-hating Greek professor. Through a set of misadventures, Phil and the Professor end up married, but it takes quite a bit of work after the marriage for them to find happiness with one another.

Great characters and performances and I enjoyed marriage not being treated as the resolution or an end point to the story. It’s also very endearing to see such a pervasively queer story about a man and a woman getting together.

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The Mystic (1925)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Synopsis: A con artist enlists the help of Hungarian travelling carnival performers to enact a phony medium scheme against the hoi polloi of New York City.

Tod Browning is a sure-bet filmmaker for me and The Mystic was no exception. Highlights for me were: the execution of the seance sequences, Erte’s gorgeous costumes for Aileen Pringle, and an ending that I hoped would happen but assumed wouldn’t!

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There Ain’t No Santa Claus (1926)

[letterboxd | imdb | Silent Comedy Watch Party]

Synopsis: When Christmas rolls around, Charley doesn’t have enough money to both pay the rent and buy his wife a present. He uses his $80 to buy her a watch, instead of the rent, and his nasty landlord/next-door-neighbor steals the watch. Christmas Day turns into a free for all, when both Charley and his landlord dress as Santa and plan to enter via their respective chimneys for their respective children. 

Well-paced, great comeuppance, and very well-executed gags. Additionally, Charley Chase looks absolutely outrageous in his Santa wig and he knew it!

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This one didn’t make it into the collage, but it’s still on the list:

Little Moritz Runs Away With Rosalie / Little Moritz enlève Rosalie (1911)

[letterboxd | imdb]

Synopsis: Little Moritz loves Rosalie and wishes to marry her, but her father objects. So, of course Rosalie and Mortiz run away together in his funky little flivver, but dad and the family dog give chase.

Most of this short is the chase sequence and it’s very well executed. Sarah Duhamel is so cute and so is her family dog. The location shooting is nicely done (was this shot in Nice?) This charming poster captures the vibe of the short perfectly:

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In January we were hit with a nasty winter storm and, while we were relatively lucky in my neighborhood, we were without internet for a third of the month. So, we ended up relying on our home video collection, which accounts for five of the films above and me re-watching two seasons of Soap and Fritz Lang’s Niebelungenlied (1924). 

Despite the holdup, I continued my “Lost, but Not Forgotten” series with The Dancer of the Nile (1923) and started a limited spin-off series, “How’d They Do That?” about special effects and stunts in the silent era. 

I also made themed gif & still sets for: Miss Pinkerton, Dementia (1955), and A Christmas Carol (1971).

Here’s to a less eventful February! And, as always, if you’re interested in any of these films, but have specific content warning needs, feel free to ask me.

[brighteststar707]

Okay write something for yourself for the last promt if it's not taken already! <33

Surprise! Bonus fic!

Here's the thing. There was one last request that came in exactly one minute after the twelfth slot was filled with a combination that I have been thinking about since I first read it.

So, I decided to make an exception and write a thirteenth fic as a little treat to myself, because I think I deserve it.

(Thank you, @jumin-ssi for initially sending in this combination! It has been staring at me from my ask box every time I open it - I blame you for my mini Jumin brainrot)

Jumin loves reluctantly

He would be the first to tell you that he has it all. A successful career, a good relationship with his father, a fulfilling friendship with V, a beautiful cat. He doesn't want for anything, least of all love.

It seems like a waste of energy and time, time he would rather spend sipping wine, or admiring his view of the cityscape with Elizabeth by his side. He has seen what pursuing love did to his father, what it does to his company. He has seen first-hand the kinds of people who try to intrude on his peace, all desperate for a slice of his life with zero interest in the person behind it all. It's enough having to deal with it for work. At least, when he's charming someone into signing a contract, the company benefits.

When you first meet, he is indifferent about you. You're just an acquaintance, and if he has his way, you won't be more than that.

But life likes to play games, especially with people like Jumin.

You're strangely determined to talk to him. Even though he leaves the chatrooms without telling you goodbye and responds to your excitement at your newfound situation with suspicion.

He can't imagine what you're trying to gain, what the fun is in talking to someone who only gives you unsatisfactory answers. Usually, this routine is enough to shake off most people.

But you're stubborn. You phone him up just to wish him a good day at work, and then again later on to ask about how it went. You take whatever he gives and don't push for more, which is a strange new experience for him. When you're not asking questions, you're sharing small tidbits about yourself - the view from the apartment, your personal favourite place to eat in the city, your latest exchange with a potential party guest. He remembers everything you say (sometimes having a perfect memory has its downsides) and your calls often leave him thinking about you long after you've hung up.

It's very frustrating.

He tells himself he has it all. He doesn't need his perfectly-balanced life upset by someone, least of all you, with your unpredictable ways. He has never met someone so distracting, so capable of upsetting his routine with a single message.

He especially tells himself that when he catches himself imagining a conversation with you at work. While drafting up a new business idea, he pictures explaining it to you, his thought process, the pros and cons. His frustratingly perfect memory manages to produce a convincing imitation of your voice as he imagines how you'd reply.

He must have had too much coffee before leaving home, that is all. It's doing strange things to his head. He should keep that in mind for the future.

He pushes you from his mind and returns to the report, this time without your made-up commentary. He manages to get through it quickly but hesitates before sending it off to Jaehee. It's a matter of curiosity, that's all, that prompts him to take a picture of the report to send to you.

It's irritatingly satisfying how close your reactions are to the ones he had imagined. You like the main idea, but you have some questions about the execution (he knew you would, and already has his answer ready for you). What he didn't predict, though, was your thoughts on how to expand the idea to other aspects of the business. How interesting.

He ends up confessing that he had been wanting to hear your feedback while working. Your laugh over the phone stirs something up in his chest that his imagination could never replicate, and he quickly ends the call.

Most people's voices tend to become tiresome after prolonged exposure. Some are high-pitched and often veer into shrill. Others are frustratingly monotone; they somehow manage to turn the most fascinating subjects boring. However, yours is one he never seems to tire of. He ends his calls to you feeling a bit more energetic than he was before.

The effect you're having on his life is worrying. He has swapped out his usual wine for one out his collection with similar notes to one you told him was your favourite. He is too busy telling Elizabeth about your thoughts on her newest collar to enjoy the view of the city.

Caught up in his worry over the situation, he phones up V the second he comes online again to relay these recent happenings to him.

"I'm losing focus, Jihyun, and I'm wondering if you have a remedy for me."

To his bemusement, V laughs.

"Jumin, I think you've grown fond of our new party planner."

"I have not. Don't be ridiculous, you know I'm not fond of anybody."

"You're fond of me."

"You're an exception."

"Well, maybe they are too. Give them a chance, and if you're right you'll get to rub it in my face."

He would have ignored advice from anybody else, but V's words get to him. He wishes he would have given him advice he could more easily follow. Take a holiday, Jumin. Get Elizabeth more toys. At least those were more realistic than what he had suggested.

He thought he had it all. The money, the family, the friends, the cat. But he doesn't have you, and it's a problem that's becoming harder and harder to ignore.

In the end, he takes V's advice. He downs his glass of wine, picks up his phone and calls you. There is this strange fluttering sensation in his stomach as he listens to the ringing.

Eventually, you pick up. If you're surprised by his change in tone, you don't let on.

"Hello, I hope it's not too late to be calling. I was wondering if you'd like to come visit the penthouse tomorrow? Elizabeth is anxious to meet the person I keep telling her about."

[emwritesfootball]

Feelings | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

I saw this jealousy prompt the other day and would love to request it with Dcl.

“ do you have feelings for me? “ “ what? “ “ do you have feelings for me? “

A/N: god knows how long it’s been since this was requested but I hope whoever asked me this is still around. Making this take place right after the 15 April loss to Fulham. This does not mean requests are open again - I am just doing a lil bit of writing to get back into it and trying to see what I can fulfill from my asks. Enjoy xo

Warnings: none

- - -

All of your friends had been telling you for months that Dom was into you, but you refused to believe it. “If he really does have feelings for me, he’ll tell me about it and we can go from there,” were words you’d repeated so often you were beginning to think you should have them tattooed across your forehead. 

There were glimpses here and there that made you think your friends were right, but since Dom had yet to approach you about it, you were going to vehemently deny it. The moments were especially prominent when other men flirted with you or you leaned into a guy that wasn’t Dom. 

It all came to a head, however, after Everton’s latest match. They had lost yet another match, and Dom was in a mood since he still couldn’t play due to his injury.

You were about to try to say something to Dom to console him but you were cut off by someone shouting your name. Your face lit up the moment you saw Antonee Robinson making his way over to you with a big smile on his face. “Jedi, hey!” You said, enveloping him in a hug. “Good game. I hate that we lost, but I’m glad I get to see you.” 

“You, too.” His gaze raked you over. “You look good.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, giggling a little. Antonee had always been a little flirty with you, but with Dom’s eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, you were inclined to push the limits a little more. 

“You ready to get going?” Dom appeared out of thin air, putting a possessive arm around your shoulder. 

Antonee took the hint, giving you one last hug as the two of you promised to keep in touch more before he headed back off to celebrate the win with his team.

“He’s had a crush on you for a while,” Dom commented, practically seething as the two of you headed down the tunnel. 

“I’ll believe it when he tells me,” you rolled your eyes, not wanting to hear another word from Dom about all these men in your life that your friends were convinced he was jealous of. “How am I supposed to know if someone is into me if they don’t say anything?”

You felt Dom still beside you, but you were too annoyed to pause, continuing your walk through the tunnel. Dom called out to you but you didn’t respond until he caught up to you and grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him. 

“Do you have feelings for me?” The question left your mouth before you could think about the implications. You stared up at him, your eyes wide and your breathing heavy.

“What?”

Your heart was racing and you felt like you had just made a very big mistake, but you knew there was no turning back now. “Do you have feelings for me?” You made a point to emphasize every word, your gaze searching his as you waited for his answer. “Everyone’s been telling me you do but I just need an answer.”

“Yes.” Dom nodded, his serious expression telling you he was telling the truth. “I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to tell you but-”

You cut him off with a kiss, shocking both of you. You’d been harboring your own feelings for Dom for months now, fully aware of your hypocritical stance about him telling you how he feels when you weren’t planning on doing the same. 

He was the first to break the kiss, pulling away with a smile on his face as his forehead rested against yours. “Does this mean you’ll finally go on a date with me now?”

“Absolutely,” you murmured, kissing him again.

[pravinthoblogspot]

earn money

Living in the present metropolitan universe of cells, portable PCs and other super advanced contraptions isn't simply furious however extremely unoriginal. We bring in cash and afterward put our time and exertion in getting more cash. Does it end? Not for the most part since we are rarely fulfilled. How often have we persuaded ourselves that if by some stroke of good luck we had some more cash, life could be so sweet? However at that point, in the wake of getting a significant raise, we understand that it wasn't sufficient and that we really want more?

How Would it be advisable for you to Respond?

I have perused many books on life, for example, Robin Sharma's Priest says this and the priest says that, and they all appear to say that cash isn't required. Yet, it is. Could you at any point manage without cash and a ton of it? I realize I can't.

Thus, I went to the local Rabbi and requested guidance that will assist me with tracking down my actual way throughout everyday life.

The rabbi gestured and took me to the window. "What do you see?" he asked me.

Speedily, I replied, "I can see individuals strolling forward and backward and a visually impaired man is asking for charity at the left corner."

The Rabbi gestured and directed me to a major mirror. "Presently look and let me know what you see?"

"I can see myself," I man replied.

The Rabbi grinned. "Presently you can't see any other individual. The mirror and the window are both made from a similar unrefined substance: glass, but since on one of them they have applied a slender layer of silver, when you take a gander at it all you can see is your own appearance."

The Rabbi put his arm on my shoulders. "Contrast yourself with those two bits of glass. Without the silver layer, you saw the others and felt empathy for them. At the point when you are covered with silver, you see just yourself."

I took a gander at the Rabbi and gazed. "I don't have the foggiest idea."

The Rabbi proceeded. "You will become somebody provided that dare to eliminate the silver covering over your eyes to again see and love others." He tapped me on my back and sent me out the door.

I have considered what he said and reach the determination that he had a point. Indeed. We want cash and we shouldn't expect to lead a bankrupt presence; its trivial and will just objective us and our families numerous heartbreaks later on.

All things being equal, I recommend that we ought to heed the guidance the Rabbi gave me. At the point when we approach life through a silver covering, all we can see is ourselves. However, dispose of that covering, and you will actually want to see and feel every other person.

Throughout everyday life, we are permitted to and ought to have the option to take a gander at the two sorts of mirrors, however we ought to recall that a mirror reflects just us; a window is the way to sympathy, wellbeing and genuine riches. At the end of the day, look for abundance definitely, however don't allow it to discourage you from life, individuals, kids and poor people and penniless.

[lovingelegance]

I love how you wrote for Scaramouche! I know you said he was a brat, but what if he wants to find out what a reward from you is like? So could you please do a "good boy" Scaramouche x reader

Thank you so much!! I appreciate your compliment, this is also an interesting concept and I’m willing to write it!

|| “Good Boy” Scaramouche X Reader ||

Includes : Anal, Orgasm denial, Reward, (Fulfilling his request and cuddles along with kisses) Praise, (calling him “Good Boy”) and Nipple play. | please notify me if I’m missing anything!

You blankly stare at a wall, thinking. Particularly thinking about Scaramouche. “Ahem..” a familiar voice spoke out. The person you were thinking about right now. Turning your attention to him, you focused gazing at him. “Yes..?” You say softening your expression. “Uhm- How do you earn a reward?” Scaramouche nervously asked. “It’s simple, just be a good boy for me.” a grin was on your face while you were speaking. “Oh.. how do I exactly be a good boy for you?” He asked more nervously. He felt a bit more embarrassed asking this question, you wonder why he was asking these questions. Wait, does he actually want to find out?

“Just do as your told.” You say now making eye contact. Scaramouche makes his way onto your lap, “I want a reward from you..” he whispered in your ear. His awkwardness suddenly turned into confidence and that’s what you loved about him. Placing one of your hands on his thighs, “Is that so..” you murmur while tucking his hair behind his ear. He nodded and slightly bit his lip. Slowly pulling down his pants, then his shirt. There was no complaints. So he is serious about this huh? Seeing the lingerie he put on for you made you feel warm inside, the lace looked amazing on him. “Got all dolled up for me?” You say seductively. “Of course.” He responded, that’s what you like to hear.

He was impatient, you both knew he was. Although, to be a good boy he had to do what you wanted. First you played with his nipples, he craved for more.. “Oh fuckkkk~..” his head tilted back, he covered his mouth with one of his hands. Even with his efforts, you could still hear the sounds coming out of his mouth. The harder he tried to contain them, the more he would fail at it. Personally, You just adored it. Shortly you lick his nipples, just but not quite sucking on them. Scaramouche was letting out strangled moans, he would usually look at you with those teasing feline eyes of his. Now it’s different this time around, he looked at you with the puppy eyes. The look you don’t often see on his face. You were quite fond of the look on his face, you wanted to keep it throughout this whole round. You could feel his breath on your skin, “Shit!- I-I think I’m gonna-” you stopped. He had a surprised look on his face, it wasn’t new to him but he wasn’t expecting that. Scaramouche thought it was easy to get his way with you but he thought wrong. Again, you started to touch his nipples again.

Scaramouche felt like you were edging him for hours, he wanted his reward and had to be good for you but he didn’t know how much longer he could last being edged like this. “Shh.. I know how you feel, you can take a few more for me right?” You say in a low tone. “Yes- I can..” he says with a bit of hesitation, though the hesitation stopped when you praised him. “Good boy.” Hearing those words come out your mouth awakened something in him. It made him more eager, more needy, and more aroused.

“Nnghh- oh fuck..!” It was the last time. He could feel it, he knew it. You were going to say something, Scaramouche prayed for it to be praise or for your words to allow him to finally cum at last. “Cum for me, my good boy.” Well, lucky him. “Gonna cum- please-!” He whimpered. His stomach finally felt relief. “Do you want you’re reward now?” You asked him. He almost forgot about it until now, “Yes..” he said. “How would you like me to fuck you?” You say sternly. His eyes widened, blinking confusingly. “What do you mean..? By that..” you roll your eyes as he said that. “You know what I mean.” You say somewhat teasingly. “Slow but rough.” Scaramouche says while leaning his head on your chest. “You sure?” You made sure by confirming he actually wanted that. “Yes.” One word is all it took and you slammed your cock/strap in him. “UNGH!~” He moaned out loudly. You made sure to keep your pace slow and fucking him roughly as well. Every time you thrusted back into his hole he would cry out. You could tell he was going to cum by his body movements and the sounds he was making, “Want me to go faster?~” saying in a flirty manner. “Please— I beg of y-you!” He whined out once again. You complied with what he wanted and so he came again. “Now the next reward is a million kisses and cuddles!!~” you say excitedly. He shook his head but still accepted each and ever kiss/cuddles you gave him.

Want the opposite (?) of this?

Here you go, I wrote it a while back :)

A/N: I hope you liked this! And of course, if not you can always request something else <3

[minho-hoho]

: ̗̀➛ Yandere!ENHYPEN's reaction to: accidentally killing their S/O Pt. 1

❁ Genre ⇛ Angst, Yandere

❁ Warning ⇛ Death, suicide, cursing

❁ Requested ⇛ Yes

❁ A/N ⇛ Request are closed! I'll be taking more time to complete the tons of request that I currently have due to me retaking my exams and planning a little something for y'all 👀 I also have my tag list open! This is a bit more lengthy than I planned, but oh well. Anyways, hope you have a fantastic day/evening/night~

MASTERLIST

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊Lee Heeseung ¦ 이 희승 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Apparently you had been disrespecting him a bit too much for his liking recently, all of this adding to the fact that you were not reciprocating any of his affection whatsoever or even being nice to him. And today he had enough, he already had a bad day at work and he would have loved to have a loving S/O comforting him, instead he got you, being all irritable. Something in him snapped, within minutes you were now in that horrible attic of his, being punished and beaten up in every way you could think of.

He was in such rage, he didn't even notice your pleas and cries for help and for him to stop, he didn't notice that at one point you started to not respond anymore, that you didn't react or breathe anymore it wasn't until 20 minutes that he noticed your strange behaviour. He tried talking to you but after 5 minutes he gave up. He got down to your level and he finally picked up on how you weren't breathing anymore. Je immediately panicked and did his best to make you come back to life, but to no avail.

“Please, please Y/N come back to me. I-I promise I'll never ever hurt you again, ok? Justー please..” He pleaded in void, violently shaking and sobbing, knowing fully well that you'd probably never come back and that it was all his fault.

The guilt and the heartbreak would be eating him, he wouldn't even be able to function properly without you. He'd beat himself up for doing such an horrible act. He couldn't even fulfil his duty, the duty that came with him being your boyfriend, he couldn't protect you properly, he instead ended your life in one of the worst way possible. And the guilt that came with it would be the reason of his downfall.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊Park Jay ¦ 박 제이 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Recently you were under a lot of stress because of Jay, his work was making him come home more irritable and angrier than before which meant that he'd be harsher on you than usual. It was already hard enough for you to keep up with him, but these days it was like his bad mood had been multiplied by 100. And by trying to keep up with his mood you ended up doing more bad than good, you weren't dealing with the stress correctly and it showed in your actions by making small mistakes a little too often for Jay's liking, which meant that you'd get punished more often for things that in the past you probably wouldn't get punished for and since it was so often, your health has deteriorating. It wouldn't take you long before you'd pass out or fall into a deep coma, but unfortunately, Jay didn't notice how your health was declining and he didn't stop disciplining you when he saw fit.

Today was the day where your body should have been resting and taking a break from all the constant abuse, yet you broke a pile of plates and you knew how it was going to end up. Once Jay found out about your misstep you were done for.

After minutes that felt like hours of yelling and scolding, Jay had enough of the fact that you barely reacted, he failed to understand that it was because of the exhaustion and all of the pain that you were going through that caused it, but to finally gain a worthy reaction from you, he decided to have a little fun.

It honestly didn't take you much time before you were no more. It only took you minutes.

Jay noticed quickly took notice of how your whimpers weren't to be heard anymore and how you weren't moving too. He got to your level, praying that you only passed out, only to see that you weren't breathing anymore. He freaked out, but he sadly had to accept after a few minutes that you weren't coming back for him. He felt guilty, but he managed to find a way to blame everyone but him and you for your death.

As a result he ended up killing more people from his job for making him pissed off and leading to your death, he was very cruel when killing them. And after all the people he blamed were now dead, he wasn't satisfied, at all. He was just as and if not more miserable than before.

He spent the rest of his life reminiscing his life and “happy” memories with you until he also breathed his last.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊Sim Jake ¦ 심 제이크 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He didn't mean it, he truly didn't. He just couldn't control his anger towards his work that was building up in him, he never meant to lay a single finger on you, ever. It was only a misstep. He truly wished he could go back to where he was, in a world where you were still alive and well and still loving him as much as he did.

His boss kept adding more and more hours on his schedule, some of his co-workers were annoying him constantly. And today maybe you said the wrong words at the wrong time or did the wrong actions at the wrong time, you didn't even get the chance to know. Before you knew it Jake was ranting angrily about everything and nothing to you, his aggressiveness was seriously scaring you.

“Jakeー Pleaseー Calm down a little yeah?” You tried to tell him, which only angered him even more.

“What do you mean calm down?! CALM DOWN?! When I've been going through all this shit? You can't understand since you have such a perfect life huh? Can't believe I'm giving you this perfect life and you're thanking me by being so insensitive and selfish. You're just soー” He let out a growl before the nearest object he could put his hands on. Which was, a knife. And he just throwed it without even thinking about what could happen. The knife directly landed in your forehead. You screamed in shock and in pain before falling to the ground to the sight of all of the blood dripping. Jake immediately came to your side tears already falling. He tried everything and he even called the ambulance only to be told that there no chance of you surviving.

The culpability he was feeling was immense and he couldn't even go out of his house. Eventually, within months, the pain and heartbreak drove him to the edge and he committed the tragic act of ending his own life.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊Park Sunghoon ¦ 박 성훈 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He did threaten to kill you multiple times, but it was only bluff and he never actually thought of ever killing you. You also wanted to believe that he was too crazy for you to kill you but seeing how horribly he treated you at times it wasn't so hard to believe after all.

You never meant to do any mistakes or never meant to anger or annoy him in any way, shape or form and you always made sure that he knew that, yet it wasn't enough. In fact it was almost never enough seeing how frequently you'd get punished.

Today was a week where you knew you should at least try to be at your best, even if that meant that you needed to pretend that you felt any sort of empathy or sympathy towards him and his frustrations. But once again, it wasn't enough. And as a result you ended up leaving the world too early.

Today he wouldn't stop being unnecessarily mean and irritable, you did your best dealing with all of it, but you ended up being pissed too. And soon, you too ended up being more pissed than you should for little things that usually didn't matter. After some of his outbursts, you sometimes found yourself slightly messing up some things which caused you to curse under your breath. Sunghoon took it the wrong way and thought you were cursing him.

And that's how you ended up arguing, you probably shouldn't have argued back, maybe that would have let you live a little longer, but you had enough and you couldn't help but fight back. As he had enough of you, you never argued back, he tried to drag you downstairs, but his aggressiveness and lack of precision made him throw you down the stairs violently, your head hitting the pointy part of a table in the process.

You barely had time to open your eyes completely before succumbing to darkness forever. Sunghoon, he, was frozen in his place. He couldn't believe what he just did, and maybe if he was more reactive then you would have survived, but he just stayed there for a few minutes until your last breath.

Later, the guilt of letting you die would be eating him from inside. And from that moment on nobody ever heard from him ever again.

: ̗̀➛Tag List! @stacey-stonem

[havin-a-wee]

Doctor's Orders

pairing: gynecologist!harry x reader/doctor!harry x reader

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: smut, fingering

this is so long overdue i apologize but this is a request! i kinda love this piece so i hope you guys do too!

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

You sucked in a harsh breath as you heard your name being called from the front desk, the smiley old lady gesturing for you to follow her. You timidly walked behind her, your feet shuffling on the obnoxiously patterned carpet that lined the hallways.

You aren’t one to fear doctor’s appointments, in fact, you have never been apprehensive about going to one until right now. This appointment was something you’ve been avoiding for a while since you had moved to London, but there came a point where you couldn’t put it off for any longer. Back in the states, you were comfortable with your gynecologist, and you had no issue talking to her about problems you were having regarding your genitalia. But now that you were in a new city, you didn’t have the comfort that came with visiting a long-term doctor and faced new ones for the first time since you were a child. The rest of the doctor’s visits were pretty standard, but your private parts were something you struggled with understanding, Sure, you have seen porn and had sex, but it was never a fulfilling experience. In fact, you have never reached an orgasm. About a year ago you gave up on looking for men to help you and made it a mission to bring yourself to a climax. But alas, none of your efforts seemed to work. At this point, you were convinced that something was wrong with you, hence the gynecologist visit. Male gynecologist, that is.

Over the past month, you have spent a lot of time researching gynecologists in your area. The first one that came up was the one you are at now, but considering his gender you continued your hunt. But it kept leading you back to this one doctor, Dr. Styles, and that was why you are currently sitting in an exam room in his office.

You reassured yourself by looking up his name on your smartphone, scrolling through the 5-star reviews. The number of people who seemed to absolutely love this guy helped settle your nerves, so you read through them as you waited for a knock on the door.

That knock finally arrived a few minutes later, and you picked your head up and looked at the wooden door. “Come in!”

A head popped inside from behind the door as it was pushed open, and the doctor’s eyes found yours while he made his way into the small room. He’s tall, with a mop of chocolate brown curls on his head and bright green eyes accompanied by a friendly smile. He sat down, eyes never leaving yours until he placed his computer down and the screen lit up.

“‘Ello Darlin, m’Dr. Styles, but y’can call me Harry if you’d like.” He stuck out a hand, and your palm swiftly met his, the two of you looking at one another as you shook hands. His hands were enormous, and the rings placed on his fingers were cold to the touch. “Considering you’re a new patient, I took a peek at y’records and such, and I saw that y’ve always had a female gyno.”

You nodded your head slowly, opening your mouth to respond but getting cut off by Dr. Styles. “So I just wanted t’let y’know tha’ theres nothing t’be ashamed off, and I know what I’m doin’ so I promise you’re in expert hands.”

“Yeah, I was nervous, but I couldn’t ignore the amazing reviews people have given you, so I made an appointment.” You appreciated his reassurance a lot, and it really helped in the easing of your jitters. He turned back to his computer after nodding in response to you, clicking on a few keys before diverting his attention back to you.

“So what seems t’be the problem today Y/N?” An initial wave of shock hit you when he said your name, but it quickly dissolved when you remembered that he literally has access to all your medical information, so of course, he knows your name.

“This is a bit of an odd thing to come in for on my first appointment with you, but I think my vagina doesn’t work.” You let out a breathy chuckle at your own words. Dr. Styles seemed unphased by your forwardness, and you assumed he had heard a lot more abrasive things than that. “I’m a 22-year-old woman, but I’ve never had an orgasm. For the past year I’ve been focusing on doing it without a partner, but no matter how much time I spent or how many fancy toys I buy, I just end up feeling unsatisfied and disappointed.” He nodded along as you explained your issue, placing his chin in his hand while his elbow was placed on the desk.

“Have y’had any STD tests recently?”

“Yes, I had one last week, I’m clean and I’ve never had one in the past.”

“Is there any possibility tha’ you’re pregnant?”

“No, I haven’t slept with anyone in over a year.” You knew what questions he would ask, so to avoid wasting time you were giving him all the information he would need.

“When y’are sleeping with someone, do y’feel any sort of pleasure?”

“Yeah, but it’s just never enough, I guess.” His lips curled into an expression of concentration, and he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. The room was silent for all of around 30 seconds, but soon enough Dr. Styles spoke up.

“Based on yeh’ history and what y’telling me, it seems that y’just haven’t found the right bloke.” Your eyebrows lifted in surprise at his simple answer. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? “M’guessing y’can’t get y’self off cause’ y’tense and not fully relaxed. And the guys y’ve been with ave’all been doin’ a rubbish job.” He chuckled along with you, and you couldn’t help but agree with him. There was no one you could think of that had actually made you feel good the entire time and had actually focused on your pleasure and theirs. Most of the hookups you took part in were with frat boys who would stick their dick into anything with a hole. “But just in case, lemme’ check y’out just to make sure.”

He stood up from his chair and you swung your legs up on the cot, laying down on it. While you had waited for the doctor, you changed into the gown you were provided with, so there was only a thin piece of fabric between you and the curly-headed man that had taken a seat at the end of the seat.

It was now that you were faced with a dilemma that your anxious brain hadn’t even thought of prior to the appointment.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive.

Dr. Styles was attractive. Like, really, really attractive. And probably because of the nature of your discussion (and the fact that your body is severely desperate for sexual release), your core had been heating up since he first stepped into the room. So now, he would lift the skirt of the gown and see a pool of velvety wetness coating the inside of your thighs.

The back of the seat was propped up, allowing you to see him. This was a good thing for him because he could talk to you while he does his job, but it means you will have to look at him after he sees the mess you’ve made.

“May I?” His fingers gripped onto the edges of the gown, and you swallowed hoarsely before nodding your approval. While you know that he probably has witnessed much more embarrassing situations than the one you were in right now, it didn’t make the predicament any better. As you suspected, he kept a straight face when he lifted the flimsy material from your legs. Without taking a second glance, he turned to a bottle on his desk and pumped a dollop of lube onto his glove-clad fingertips. He used his other gloved hand to spread the lubricant, only turning back to you when his two fingers were both well coated in the substance. “Y’alright?” Once again, you nodded at his question. “Tell me with words darlin’, wanna make sure y’comfortable.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What kind of exam are you doing exactly?” That question popped into your mind right before it rolled off your tongue because you noticed he had never specified exactly what he was looking for.

“M’just gonna use m’finger,” he held his lube-covered fingers, “and feel around, just t’make sure everythins’ fine.”

“Ok, sounds good.”

“M’gonna start now, s’gonna be cold at first.”

You hissed when his fingers met your sopping hole, and you had to resist the urge to kick your legs while he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you. The feeling was strange, but definitely not unwelcome. The contrast from his icy fingers to your warm center was sending a tingling sensation down your spine. You could feel his fingers push around inside of you, caressing your walls. And you know you shouldn’t. But his fingers were hitting all the right nerves, and you couldn’t help but find the experience immensely pleasurable.

Despite your best efforts, a small moan of satisfaction escaped your lips. Immediately, you went stiff, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You just moaned while your doctor had his fingers inside you. For a moment you thought he would ignore the sexual noise that you had just made. But he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes previously locked on his fingers.

“Well, if y’moanin’ just from that, y’more sexually deprived than I thought.” He chuckled, and you cracked a small smile, but that was before his words actually hit you.

Was he, hitting on you?

Maybe not flirting, but that definitely wasn’t something that doctors say to their patients very often. His smirk was also giving you the idea that he had certain intentions.

“Everything seem good down’ere, so I think tha’ problem is with the guys y’gettin with, not you. What type of people do y’usually sleep with.”

“When I was sexually active, it was usually frat boys, so I guess I should’ve known I wasn’t the problem.” You let out a small laugh, Dr. Styles seems to have found it much more amusing, as his chuckle came from deep within his chest. A small movement came with the laugh, which also reminded you that his fingers were still very much inside of you.

“It seems y’need someone who knows his way around,” he cleared his throat, and you smiled as you realized what he was hinting at. “and y’my last paitent of the day, so m’more than happy t’help y’out.” He looked down at his feet shyly, and you found it adorable how he was nervous about what he was proposing. But you were on the verge of tears from how hard it was to hold back your physical response to his touches. Your body relaxed when the words came out of his mouth, and you let out the whine that had been building up in your throat.

“Yes-Harry, god yes.” It was the first time you were using his first name, but the smirk on his face showed his approval.

He quickly removed his fingers from your heat, and you whined again, this time in frustration. Losing contact left you feeling cold, but that feeling only lasted a fleeting moment, as soon as he was pushing his fingers into you again, this time bare.

“Y’already so wet love, what got y’this worked up hmm?”

“Y-you, Harry, I want you.” You tripped over your words, but they came out clear enough for him to understand because he began moving his fingers at the encouragement. His fingers began to pump in and out of you, and you knew he must have been right about not being with the right guys before, because the simple movements left you as putty in his hands. You barely got any pleasure from fingering in your other sexual encounters, but you were already a moaning mess underneath the man. He lifted his other hand, which had also had the glove on it removed, and placed the pad of his finger on your puffy clit. You mewled loudly and his smirk widened.

“Any o’those boys ever make y’feel this good darlin’?” You shook your head furiously, and he smiled, rubbing circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You were already seeing stars, and you could feel an unfamiliar knot forming in your stomach. “Y’so pretty, did y’know tha’?”

You couldn’t muster up enough strength to respond to his second question, but the loud moan that you let out was enough of an answer for him. His movements sped up, fingers pumping in and out of you and his other thumb pressing circles on your button.

“Harry-”

“Think y’close darlin’? Ready t’come fo’ the first time?”

“Yes, yes..” Your voice trailed off when a guttural moan rumbled through your throat. Although you haven’t had one before, you were sure that he was about to bring you to an orgasm. There was a tight feeling in your stomach and you knew it was just about to burst.

“Fuck-”

The knot burst and your orgasm rolled through your body, reaching every nerve inside of you. The feeling was euphoric, and your senses were heightened as your body experienced this new feeling.

“Thas’ it, good girl,” he cooed, slowing his movements and removing his fingers from your now overly sensitive clit. He worked you through your orgasm until fully removing his fingers from you, and you let out a sigh as he did so. “Definitely not somethin’ wrong with ya’, I can tell y’that.”

He smiled up at you and you returned the gesture, your smile only faltering when he turned away to write something down. You took the opportunity to get up and change, quickly dressing while his back was turned.

He turned in his chair to face you once again, handing you a small piece of paper. You took it from between his fingers to see a phone number scribbled on it in black ink.

“Is Doctor Styles giving me his number?” You said it in a cheeky way, smirking back at him.

“Yes, and he’s telling you to text him when you get home. Doctor’s orders.”

[qyllenhaal]

❛ Bunny ❜

Series: The Devil I Know

Senator!Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k~

Summary: Reader Surprises Chris on their week long vacation together with something that he's been begging for for a long time

warnings: 18+ only!!! Unprotected sex, daddy kink, dom/sub elements, roleplay, creampie, breeding kink, cumplay, age gap (reader is in her late 20s)

A/N: I'm hoping to start taking requests soon! I've been so busy with life that my ideas for this series are drying up.

Enjoy!

Y/n would be a damn liar if she said she wasn't turned on by the roleplay idea that Chris brought to her and the way he kept calling her his "bunny." She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes at first, it just sounded so ridiculous to her, but the more she thought about it. the easier it became to envision it happening.

Her in a Playboy bunny costume sounded so basic to her, but the excitement in Chris's eyes showed that it meant something to him.

She felt guilty as he explained how boring his sex life was before meeting her. He was trying to make her feel better about the idea, and feel a sense of pride, instead she felt loathsome. She wasn't able to determine if she felt more sorry for him or his wife. Their marriage was dying anyway and was going to die whether or not Y/n was in the picture, but she still felt awful about being the final death blow to their multi-decade marriage. He wanted to take her up to his father's cabin up north while his wife stayed home? It sounded good in theory but something about it made it hard for her to say yes.

"C'mon, you deserve a break. You've been working your ass off to get Withers primaried and you actually have a chance of unseating him. Don't you think you should relax? You work so hard all the time honey."

It was all too enticing to say no; to be whisked away from an entire week and ravished by her lover.

"There she is," he teased when he saw that smile forming on her face, "I knew you'd come around to it. I'm going to make sure you don't lift a finger, and you get to taste my famous ceviche."

He kissed her cheek and let her get back to work before she could come up with a reason that causes her to change her mind.

Y/n kept her excitement to herself but she was over the moon. Once she let the guilt simmer, she began to fantasize about the possibilities of an entire week of having Chris all to herself without interruption. They'll be able to act like a normal couple if only for a week.

She got herself through two weeks of more tough work, but it was fulfilling to know that she was succeeding in her work, and that she had a trip with Chris on the horizon.

He hadn't brought up his little idea since she'd agreed to go on the trip. It seems as if he forgot all about it as his shock that she said yes had consumed his thoughts. Y/n couldn't let it go though. She couldn't stop thinking about it now that they were going to be gone for an entire week. She could wear that little get up for days and give him a sight that's going to be etched into his brain until the day he dies. Y/n loves that she has that effect over him; the ability to make his heart race and his cock hard with just a simple look.

It was not a cheap costume to buy because she didn't just want to buy any regular costume that could be bought at party city. No, she wanted something that was better quality and could endure Chris attempting to tear it off her body. She paid extra for the shipping so she had it in time.

When it was finally in her possession, she stared at it in awe. She was tempted to put it on, to see how she looked in it, but she wanted it to be a surprise for both herself and Chris. The material it was made of felt nice; the entire costume looked like it could've been owned by a real playmate. It wasn't often that Y/n felt overwhelmingly sexy, but she did just simply staring at the costume in its precious box. Chris was up in age, she hoped he didn't have a heart attack.

-

"It's so beautiful up here."

When Chris said a cabin up north, she didn't think all the way up north in Maine. But it was perfect. Only two weeks into fall but the trees were filled with vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves.

The cabin was near a river that held the reflection of the trees. It seemed as if it had gone untouched for years, but it was filled with pictures. Y/n could pick out the face of a younger Chris in some of the photos, but everyone else was unrecognizable.

"That's my grandfather," he interrupted her thoughts when he caught her lingering on a particular picture.

She glanced at him before bringing her eyes back down to the image again. "You look so much like him," her fingers skirted across the glass. She felt a weird pang of longing hit her in the stomach. It's as if Chris wasn't just a few feet away from her. Maybe what she felt inside was shame disguised as something else.

"C'mon," he grabbed the framed picture from her hand and placed it back where she found it, "I wanna show you something."

Y/n trailed behind him, her hand in his, as he guided her through the house and up the stairs.

Chris led her upstairs and to another set of stairs. He took her to a dusty attic which somewhat confused her. Then grabbed a box that looked older than her.

"Remember that time you tried to show me that constellation...what was it...Be- Belt- B-"

"Betelgeuse."

"Yea that was the one," he took the top off of the box and she peered into it, "now you can show me other star thingys in the sky."

She laughed but wrapped her arms around his neck. It was an unsuspecting gesture from him, but she welcomed it nonetheless. He could get really sentimental at times and it would just make it harder on her that she couldn't publicly love on him.

"It's great Chris. Let's just hope the skies are clear one of these nights."

He smiled and kissed her cheek for the nth time today.

"Alright. I'm gonna go get started on my famous ceviche. You enjoy yourself however you want. Walk around, explore the place," he stroked her cheek before leaving her alone to go get started on dinner for the two of them.

It had been a long day of driving and all Y/n wanted to do was go to sleep, but something was buzzing inside of her. She hated that Chris's dinner and "famous ceviche" was probably going to go to waste because if her plan works successfully then he isn't going to give a damn about dinner.

Y/n made sure she packed the box holding the costume at the very bottom of her suitcase. She held her breath as she held it up in the air and stared at it. She's sure that she could wear a garbage bag and Chris would still want to fuck her but she couldn't stop herself from being so nervous about putting it on.

She did it anyway and was relieved when what she saw in the mirror looking back at her wasn't so bad. In fact, she looked sexy. The look was complete with the bunny ears and bowtie. She wore a simple lipstick, one that was going to be smeared later on, paired with coats of mascara. At the end of night Y/n wanted to see the proof of his handiwork.

Even though she knew he wanted this, she was nervous about how he'd feel about her "act". She's been deliberating for a week whether or not she should go all the way with the fantasy but why not? Chris deserved it after convincing her to come on this trip. Besides, he works hard too.

"Hun, the food is ready!"

A few seconds of silence didn't make him flinch, but after a few more minutes passed and he didn't hear footsteps coming down the stairs, he was confused. Another call of her name resulted in nothing but silence; she didn't even respond to "Button."

She could be asleep, he thought, but he was still curious. If she was then he could at least catch a glimpse of her sleeping peacefully, put the food away, and then come join her.

"Y/n?" His voice got softer as he approached their bedroom. It was cracked enough for him to see that the light was on. He pushed it open and there his girl was. On the bed and dressed like she stepped out of his dreams.

"What is this?" His laughter was mixed with interest and disbelief. Just some time ago she was vehemently saying "no!" regarding his idea and now she was dressed like a Playboy bunny.

"Do you like it, daddy? I got it just for you."

Chris felt himself hardening in his jeans. Sheer tights stretched over her thighs and he just wanted to rip it off her body. She looked good enough to ruin.

"Of course I like it Button," he cooed as he approached her waiting body on the bed. He touched the material of her outfit still in a state of disbelief. This was his ultimate fantasy.

"I'm glad you like it. I did it just for you daddy," her voice was soft, girlish, and coquettish as she palmed his cock through his jeans. He swears he could cum just from this if she kept it up. He grabbed her hand to stop her.

"You're a naughty little bunny, aren't you?"

"Nooo daddy I've been good," she inched herself backwards on the bed before slowly turning onto her stomach all the while keeping eye contact with him, "I've been a good girl."

"I suppose you have," he didn't even try to argue against her claims. That pout on her lips made him incredibly harder.

Chris ran his hands over her ass and she mewled softly at his warm, strong hands on her. Y/n closed her eyes, a cocky smile on her lips knowing that she probably turned his brain into mush. She pushed her ass into his touch for more.

"The things I want to do to you..."

"Tell me daddy. What do you want to do to me?"

"Uh uh, you don't go demanding things around here. You've been a good girl, but I can easily change my mind. I can make you take my fingers and edge you while you wish it was my big cock splitting you open, but I don't think my bunny wants that."

She pouted and pressed her face into the bed. Chris chuckled at how easily her demeanor changed. He put his knees on either side of her legs and grabbed her hips to drag her ass to his pelvis. She gasped at the swift movement whimpered when he started to mime fucking her.

"Oh baby you look so good like this. I don't know if I want to keep you all pretty and in this costume while I fuck you, or take it off of you and ruin that cute little face of yours."

He had plans to do both, but he liked to hear her whimper when he told her about the utter filthy things he was going to do to her. If she thought he was going to rip it off of her without savoring how good she looks then she's wrong.

He's so grateful that he packed that polaroid Y/n gave to him as a birthday gift. It was how he got around her "no pictures" rule. She never let him take pictures of her, not even on the second phone he bought just to contact her. How could he not document how she looks after cumming hard for him? Or when he leaves a trail of white all across her bare chest? He often had to rely on his memory, but he planned on this trip being different.

"Stay just like that Bun."

Y/n broke her character for a little bit, rolling her eyes and relaxing her arched back when he left the room. Sometimes he did little things that annoyed her, but the way she jumped back into her character when she heard him come back showed her that the annoyance was just a façade.

"So perfect," the camera's shutter fired and the camera spit out the first ever photo he has taken of her.

Y/n wanted to protest against him, but she stayed silent. It wouldn't hurt to have a few polaroid's as keepsakes; she even looked back at him and made eyes at the camera.

Chris could spend all day photographing her, but the strain in his pants was becoming too painful. He placed the camera down and stood at the edge of the bed.

"Come put that pretty little mouth of yours to use."

Y/n hopped up from her position and found herself on the floor in between his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. She clumsily fumbled with his belt and fastener on his pants. "Eager little bunny, slow down a bit," he taunted.

She tried to listen, but she's desperate to get him in her mouth. His hard cock springs out from its restraint and almost hits her cheek. She gasps lovingly at the pre-cum seeping from his blunt head. She wanted to taste it, but she didn't do it without Daddy's permission. Instead she wrapped her hand around his length and squeezed him.

Chris watched her stare at his cock in awe, like she wasn't already familiar with it. She gave him a few languid pumps and he sighed at her soft touch. He thought about how beautiful it would be to paint his cum across her breast. She looked like an absolute sex-pot; it was hard for him to control himself.

"That feels so good, bunny. You're such a good girl — keep pumping me...a little faster bun... good girl," his praising voice was as smooth as a cat's purr. Y/n felt the presence of her arousal when her sex pressed against the material of her costume.

The pre-cum oozing from his tip made her mouth water. He didn't instruct her to do anything further, but she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her lips around his length. He didn't seem to have a problem with it either because he sighed and pushed her mouth further down on his cock.

"You're so beautiful like this bunny...my precious girl," he cooed between breaths.

Her mouth felt like heaven, her warm tongue laving him with saliva and washing pleasure over him. He felt the muscles in his lower abdomen spasming as she sucked on him faster and feverishly. The concentration on her face was so cute to him, but greatly juxtaposed by the light makeup that was beginning to smudge on her face.

His cock hit the back of her throat and she gagged on him. Y/n tried to pull herself off, but he kept her still, forcing her to relax her throat while he filled her mouth.

"That's it girl — fuck — you're going to make me cum. Is that what you want? Me to cum down that pretty throat of yours?"

Y/n tried to shake her head no and say out loud, but she was muffled by his cock. She loves to watch him jerk over her tongue or other parts of body until he cums, but she wanted him to cum while he was fucking her; he could always paint her tits later.

"You don't want me to cum down your throat bunny? Where do you want me to cum?"

Chris knew she was unable to answer, but that was apart of the thrill. His ego was through the roof and the sense of power he felt because of this was astounding. She made him feel so many things at once, but all he was concerned with now is seeing her body shiver with pleasure.

He let go of his physical grip on her and she took the opportunity to come up from her. Her lips were pink and there was a line of saliva collecting her mouth to his cock.

"Look at you, so pretty," he petted her as he stared into her eyes that held a glossy look of desire for him and him only, "get on the bed bunny."

He wanted to worship her. He wanted to make her cum over and over again until his name was the only thing left on the tip of her tongue. As she laid out on the bed for him, in a costume just for him, he wondered how he got so lucky with her. They were so different, but they were somehow meant for each other.

"You're so gorgeous," his hands glided down her stocking-covered thighs. He squeezed her flesh and he groaned as if he could feel what he was doing to her. She made him dizzy just from how beautiful she was.

Y/n's body anticipated every stroke of his hands on her body. He didn't leave an inch of her exposed skin untouched. He touched and looked at her like she might disappear at any moment. It was his mission to memorize how her body feels under his touch.

"Daddy," she whined, not being able to stand to ache between her legs anymore. She isn't sure what she wanted him to do, she just wanted him to do something.

"Be patient, sweet thing. Let me take in how beautiful my little bunny looks."

"You like when I dress up for you, daddy?" She further parted her legs as a suggestion for him to place himself between her legs. Chris picked up on what she was doing, but he didn't follow through.

"My perfect little bunny," his voice trailed off as he palmed her breast through the costume.

Y/n moaned and arched into his touch. It wasn't long before he was pawing at the top of the costume to free her breast. The costume was tight against her body, but he managed to get what he wanted. He cupped her tits before he leaned down to wrap his lip around her nipple. His thumb teased the other one, stroking it to life. Her delightful sighs sounded heavenly.

"Feels so good," Y/n whined. She tried to grind against him in desperation but he wasn't having any of it. More of his weight was pressed against her to keep her still. He switched over to sucking on her other nipple. His eyes met hers before lightly closing from the feeling of ecstasy.

The mess that was forming between her legs was becoming unbearable. Y/n knew for a fact that she soaked through her costume and with just one swipe of his hand, Chris would be able to feel it. She didn't say anything but she was just so impatient and wanted him to give the same attention to her sex. But he wanted to savor her in this costume before he takes it off of her and just fucks her in the bunny ears.

"This body is so perfect."

As his hands slowly slid across her stomach, the cogs began to turn in her head; she wanted this night to fulfill all of his fantasies.

After taking his sweet time with her body, Chris was finally getting her out of the costume. It won't be the last time she wears it this week, but it was bittersweet to see her out of. However her body alone was driving him wild. She still had the bunny ears on which made her look incredibly cute.

"My lil' Bunny has been so patient for me," he kissed her cheek before moving to kiss the front of her throat, "I'm gonna reward that pretty pussy of yours."

Y/n felt the lust boiling over as Chris moved down her body and his was finally home between her legs. "You got so wet for me bun," he taunted her. His fingers prodded at her slit but didn't push in all the way like she needed. It was torturous to tease her when she had been such an obedient girl for him.

He didn't keep her waiting for long. His tongue was diving through her silky folds to get a good taste of her.

"Undress daddy, baby."

The gruff of his voice made her feel even wetter. She often teased him for being so much older than her but oh did she love all the psychical manifestations of his age. The grey in his hair drove her wild, and she loved how grey his beard was whenever he grew it out.

She grabbed at his soft cotton t-shirt and pulled it over his head. The light dusting of grey hair on his chest tickled her fingertips. She couldn't stop herself when she leaned in to nip at his collar bone. Her lips were so sweet on his body making his head spin. She started tugging at his pants while her lips were still on his skin. He did most of the work, but he didn't care, he just needed to be freed of his restricting clothes.

Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock and gently pumped him.

Chris sighed into her ear, "wanna cum on my tongue or my cock bunny?"

"Your cock daddy! Bunny needs your cream inside of her," she whined.

He thought about fucking her the entire drive; his mind thinking of all the things they could do alone, but he never thought he be blessed with this.

"My little bunny wants my cock? You want to get on all fours and show me how dripping you are?"

Y/n nodded her head, eyes wide with lust and her bottom lip slightly poking out.

"Good girl. Show daddy just how pretty you are."

She moved from his arms and laid her head against the bed as her ass stuck in the air. Chris got off the bed and stood against the very edge. His strong hands laid gently against her ass and he pulled her puffy lips apart with his fingers.

"Fuck girl," he groaned, unable to contain the desire he felt," you're dripping. You're dripping for daddy, aren't you? I thought you were a good little bunny, but only slutty bunnies get this wet."

Her body tensed when his left thumb dragged against her clit. It was swollen and so sensitive to his touch.

Chris's cock was hard and ready to be inside of her warm silk. He had brought the condoms that felt like nothing along with him; two boxes since they were going to be together for six more days.

She heard him tearing something up, but she looked back at him and reached up at him.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" He furrowed his brow but still held the half ripped condom wrapper in his hand.

"No condom daddy. I want to feel all of you."

He groaned and he felt his cock become impossibly harder. They had gone back to condoms because Y/n said stopped taking her birth control when she stopped speaking to him, believing that they were possibly going to stop this relationship. She also said she was going to start again, but he just could not remember if she said her doctors appointment was happening this month or next month.

"Are you on the pill?" His tone had a hint of excitement to it, but ultimately he was concerned; she was always strict about protection.

"I don't know," she said feigning innocence, batting her lashes at him and wiggling her hips in anticipation for his cock. This little character she decided to adapt was driving him crazy.

"Don't lie to me girl," he gripped her arm and she whimpered. His rough handling of her had made her even wetter.

"I'm not! I really don't know daddy!"

She knew, and he knows that she does, but he was too weak by the sight of her bent over in her little bunny ears with her wet cunt exposed to him. Her ass began to sway from side to side, calling him to come closer. But what she wanted him to made him think to himself: 'is she fucking crazy?'

"I need you so bad daddy. Please ruin your little bunny," her voice was sweet as candy.

Chris always wanted her but something about this unlocked a deep hunger inside of him. The risk of this made his heart race and sweat form on his skin, but he wanted this just as bad as she did.

"Baby," he placed a hand around his cock to help guide it inside of her, "I'm gonna ruin this pretty fucking body of yours."

He fully sheathed himself inside of her and Y/n sighed with tenderness. The small touch of his hand on her lower back felt so incredibly intimate and she was grateful that he convinced her to come on this trip.

"You feel so fucking good girl," he pulled out just a few inches only to push back in, "I'm going to fill you up. Is that what you want, pretty baby?"

Y/n is unsure what is more taunting: the tone of his voice or his increasing pace. Both of his hands now grabbed her hips and she swooned over how large they felt holding her. He dragged her back onto his cock until he was nearly pounding her. Each thrust was ruining her softly.

His thrust became more wild as he felt her walls grip his entire length. She felt so warm and wet around him. He missed being bare inside of her, feeling her entirety from the inside.

Soon her little bunny ears were falling off of her head as he fucked her hard. There was something so intoxicating about ruining everything that's so perfect about her. He loved that she gave him permission to do so too.

"Look at me," he said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her arm and forced it against her back. Y/n twisted her upper half to look up at him. She placed her hand on top of his for a glimmer of intimacy in this moment of nasty brutal fucking.

"I'm gonna pump you full of me, bunny. Good girls get all my cum."

Every time he slid home inside of her, stretching her completely, she cried out louder. Her thighs trembled and shook with each thrust into her. He was fucking so hard it was almost mindblowing. She always teased him for being an "old man" but he was proving that his age didn't hinder him from pounding into her.

He was getting closer and closer to slipping over the edge. She just feels so warm and tight around him, her contracting walls inviting him to cum inside of her. He loved being able to see her face as she hit every spot inside of her that made her toes curl.

"I feel that pussy tightening up," he spoke breathlessly. He tried to concentrate on his words but her wet cunt rendered him speechless. "Cum for me bunny."

Y/n began to meet his thrust. Lust bloomed in her stomach when she imagined feeling him empty inside of her. They were so incredibly close and if they kept this up they could cum together.

"Give it to me daddy" she whispered, staring back at his face, "please cum inside of me...I've been such a good girl...I need it so bad."

Chris's thrust got sloppy as the muscles in his lower abdomen began to spasm. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Y/n started cumming around his cock and her pussy tightening up hugged his cock and milked him. "Fuck!" He grunted loudly as he fucked the both of them through their orgasms.

Despite her body being too hypersensitive to take anymore, she whimpered when he pulled out of her.

"Keep that ass up in the air."

Chris grabbed her ass cheeks to spread her open. "Push it out for me bunny." His cum came seeping out of her hole and slid through her folds. He spread it around her sex with two fingers before pushing it back into her hole. She gasped when she felt him slide back into her. Her walls clenched around his fingers, still hungry for more. He wanted to fuck her again, but he was too tired to go again.

"You're going to wear me out girl," he joked, laying next to her on the bed. She looked just as tired as him but that look in her eye indicated that she was completely satisfied.

"It's been a long time since you've fucked me like that. I think I should wear that costume more often."

He placed his palm against her face and she leaned into like she always did. She closed her eyes and felt lulled by the sound of his now steady breathing. This moment together felt like it could last a lifetime. Y/n wishes that they could just stay here forever instead of a week. If she never had to think about an empty promise ever again, she'd be content for the rest of her days.

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.

[syndxlla]

Part Fourteen of the More to Love Series

Summary: The wedding is in a week, and you’re suddenly very aware of how little time you have left to figure out what to do. You decide to take matters into your own hands, and formulate a plan. Din invites you to a night of experience, and you admit a simple truth to him.

Word Count: 11.8k words, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: SMUT (PiV, a little degradation, praise, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk), use of alcohol, drunkness, mentions of scars, sexual harassment

Author’s note: HELLOOOO! this is a fun chapter, and i just wanna let y’all know that we are in the endgame now 😭. don’t worry, i still have so many plans for both the princess and din and just the whole world that MTL is set in. thank you for all the support on this story! it never ends and i will forever be thankful for your love!

Part thirteen

You were a fool for thinking the castle would start to settle down after the ball passed. Alternatively, the planning did not lessen, but instead shifted from masquerade prep to wedding prep. The decorations were taken out, and new samples were brought in. It was made very clear to you that this was really Korkie’s wedding and not your own, because every decision and plan that was made was done without your input.

It had been a few days since Din told you everything, and he truly told you everything. You had plenty of time to reflect on it, and process everything. You worked so hard to gain perspective on it, to try and give your future family the benefit of the doubt, and to understand the full situation. However, you ultimately sided with Din, your heart aching for the situation he was placed in. It had been apparent that he would not have told you any of that if he did not hold immense trust in his heart for you, and the word Ka’rta over grew into your thoughts for all these days. The both of you had agreed to tone things down, deciding it would be a fair middle ground. Less nightly endeavors would keep you two apart, and therefore less suspicious, but it especially made the reunions of passion more sweet.

Your mother was long gone, she left three days ago, and finally you felt that you had the palace to yourself again without Hugo and various other guests breathing down your neck. Your time as Corellian Princess was in it’s endgame now as your imminent marriage to Korkie was just on the horizon, and you still had no idea how to escape from it. Most of your days, you spent making up excuses for missing afternoon tea, and trying extra bites of potential wedding cake flavors in the kitchen. Regardless of what you did, however, Din was always there with you, three paces behind. You were also given the opportunity to dismiss him more often now. The eager infatuation with him has slowly become a steady understanding of feelings, and the two of you were able to fall into a groove without the anxiety of wondering how the other felt, and how long it would be until you reunited. Tradition and duty had lightened up as well, and there were less eyes on how Din was treating you, which gave you the liberty to give him back an ounce of his life.

This was one of the best things to ever happen to Din. You would retire to your room early every night, hoping no one would wonder if you were ill, and because you were away from the eye of Kryze, you could allow Din to leave the castle early. At seven, sometimes even six, he would go home to his son. It made everyone happy, and that is why it was important to happen. This was much preferred over a midnight dismissal. You also noticed a change in Din’s presence after this change was made. He was springier, chuckling more, even sitting down when the two of you were alone. He had finally relaxed around you, and you accredit to the pure fact that he was finally getting more rest.

Those were your favorite parts of the day: when you and Din would find a quiet corner in the library, or maybe an empty sitting room, and he would just tell you about the world. He had been everywhere, you were convinced. He went into detail of cities in Coruscant, explaining how they have extravagant silk markets and countless taverns with exotic drinks. He described the heat of the desert, and how he once had to search for a merchant’s missing camel in return for clean water, a story that led to one of the scars on his back and a very rational fear of the desert at night. His favorite place to tell you about, however, was his home. The Nevarro Frontier clearly had a special place in his heart, and he spoke fondly of it’s tall mountains and tight-knit communities.

“Nothing like the Mandalore you know.” He would sigh. A kingdom that may have been fantastic on the outside, but was riddled with war and political division and heartache on the inside. “Maybe I can take you there someday.”

It was those words that sparked your imagination, and the plan began to formulate.

The real dilemma you had been in all this time was trying to figure out how to live happily with a man you truly loved, but also protect your kingdom, home and family. It was a delicate situation, one with many sighs and frustrated nights. However, after Din explained his battle with Bo to you, it’s resolution was slowly becoming more clear. There had to be a way you could win in this story. You would not give hope on that truth.

When Din mentioned taking you to his home, you realized that there was very little keeping you from up and leaving Mandalore in the night. It would be a scandal, it would probably cause an all-out war, but it was worth a try, or at least a dream.

Now, when you had afternoon conversations with Din in the library, you were studying maps of the world. You familiarize yourself with the terrain of Mandalore, how long it might take to get to the Sundari Front, and drawing out escape routes on the backs. Din assumed you had thrown yourself into cartography so you could grasp his stories and adventures fully, which wasn’t altogether false, but it went deeper than that. You tried to keep it under control, but you were slowly becoming more and more consumed by your studies: a recurring issue in your life.

Din hadn’t realized you were becoming obsessed with the geography of the world until about a week after the ball, when you fell asleep by candlelight at a table in the library, your face smushed into the parchment of a map depicting some old blueprints that he had paid no attention to, and your hair falling over your eyes. It was almost dawn, and he had come back from his time with his son already, distressed to see no one had the courtesy to wake you up and take you to your room. He didn’t really expect much else from Mandalore, however.

Din blows out the candle, and gently picks you up, being extra careful not to wake you, and carries you bridal-style out of the library and to your suite. It was these moments that Din looked forward to the most. When he did not have to put on a face, when he did not have a million rules to follow. When your sleepy head rests into his chest, and he can look upon your face with his own eyes, no helmet to obstruct it.

As Din looked upon your resting face, there was much he realized. He first noticed that scar on your body that he hadn’t seen before, and swiped his thumb over it. He also studied the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, how you were perfectly still, and yet completely full of life and beauty and pure goodness as you slept. Din deeply admired how much you cared, how much you cared about everything. The wellbeing of the staff, the customs of Mandalore, him. You threw yourself into your passions, and you had a deep love for the hobbies and aspects of your life that no one else he knew possessed. You were a dedicated person, and he found both attraction and respect ino that.

Din also realized a fundamental truth at the very moment the sky began to lighten up, your cracked balcony doors letting the curtains blow into the suite dreamily. Din felt at peace. It had been so long since he felt peaceful. Too long. He felt the same type of peace here with you that he would normally feel sleeping under the stars with his son nestled to his side. Or the same feeling of peace that he felt when he held his son for the first time. It was a rare feeling, and it was pure. It was so rare that it was only saved for the people most important to him in his life.

You woke up a few hours later, changed out of the pale yellow gown you fell asleep in. Din had not only put you in your nightgown, but had taken the time to pull your hair so it was out of your face. He was more thoughtful than you could have ever imagined. The Knight sits with his back against your door, helmet tilted up at the ceiling, and you wonder if he slept, and why he was not in bed with you. You had invited him several times, and wished he would fulfill the request.

As soon as you sit up in bed, his head lifts, and he stands at attention.

You yawn before speaking, “Were you resting?” You ask, stretching your arms over your head. He shakes his head in response. “What were you doing?” You ask, your arms coming down to rest on your mattress.

“Listening?”

“For?”

He shrugs, “The birds at first, but then it was footsteps. I didn’t want to get caught waiting for you to wake up.” He sighs.

“Well… I wish you would have listened in bed with me.” You glance over at the empty spot next to you. He doesn’t respond, and you are reminded that in many ways, he is still the silent knight you first met from three weeks ago. Din walks over to you, and you smile as he does.

“Did I wake you last night?” He asks, and you were honestly confused about what he was asking. He sensed the confusion, he was always so good at reading you, “When I carried you from the library here?”

“What?” And then you remembered, your eyes blowing wide. “Shit!” You jump out of bed. “What time is it?”

“Uh…”

“Is the rest of the staff awake?” You let your hair down, and slide on the pink satin slippers on the floor of your bed.

“What?”

“Did you bring the map I was studying?” You look up at his emotionless helmet.

“…No?” To be truthful, he didn’t even take the time to glance at the map you studied, he was far too distracted by you.

“Fuck.” You muttered. Din liked it when you swore.

You thought of nothing, and hurried to the door of your suite, swinging it open and marching down the corridor. Din follows you in confusion, trying to catch up to you and bring you back to your room. You’re weary, and just woke up, so you pay no attention to Soniee who passes you in the hallway with your tea, looking at you in confusion, or the maids who were trying to sweep the floor that you scurried over. Din tried to halt you, but was never one to speak unless spoken to, especially not in public and in the presence of others, and felt unable to stop you and ask what was going on. Everyone turned heads to see the future consort in a panic, and were left with questions. Most of them shrugged and ignored it, a few began the rumors.

You practically ran down the stairs, feeling a little out of breath when you finally made it to the doors of the library. The fact that they were closed was still a good sign, and you swing the heavy door open, entering the library with haste. Your heart drops when you see the last person you wanted to this morning: Prince Korkie.

He turns to see the commotion, his eyes are shocked to not only see you out and about this early in the day, but also in your nightgown. He sputters on a ‘Good Morning’, and you don’t even hear it because you’re too panicked to see that he has the map you were reading last night in his hands. You swear in your mind, and your heart falls out of your feet. Din comes hurrying behind you.

“Princess? What is the meaning of this?” He asks, an eyebrow raised, trying to sound chipper as he greeted his fiance. You swallow thickly. Din bows for the prince, and then bends down to whisper in your ear so Korkie can’t hear it.

“Highness, please come back to your room.”

“What? Why?” You say a little too loudly, and before he can reply, the door is opening again with General Vizsla and a group of knights entering.

“Y-your gown.” Din whispers, and you look down to see that it is very sheer, far too sheer to be in the presence of your fiance… and half of the Mandalorian government. You want to shrink from the embarrassment, and notice that Korkie’s eyes are fixed on your chest. What a creep. You fold your arms over your breasts.

“What map do you have there, Prince Korkie?” You ask, trying not to make it seem too obvious that you were clearly in distress, but shaken up by your exposure and the perverted ness of the prince before you. Din wondered what in the world could be so important about that specific map. He stands behind you to cover your back side.

“What is this commotion?” Vizsla asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Nothing, General.” Korkie clears his throat. He turns to you, “Vizsla and I were just about to discuss the plans we have for… the southern border of Corellia.” Korkie awkwardly smiles. You raise an eyebrow.

“Plans?” You ask.

“Yes, you will hear in time.” Vizsla’s obnoxiously nasally voice busts in again. He was always one to unwelcomely invite himself.

You try not to roll your eyes, “And the map, Your Highness?” You repeat yourself, trying not to sound too demanding. You were still a princess, after all.

Korkie nervously chuckles, eyeing the multiple men in the room and shocked by your ambition. He takes a step forward, rolling the map up in his hands as he advances in you and Din’s direction. Din placed a discreet hand on the small of your back, hoping to reassure you. His touch was barely noticeable, but it was enough.

“Princess,” He says, sort of hushed. “You can call me Korkie in front of other people.” It was clear that he had an expectation to fill, and it would be bad on him if his fiance was still addressing him with a title a week before the wedding.

You scoff, “No, I don’t think I will.”

You hold your hand out for the map in defiance, but the prince doesn't hand it to you. He has a dark look in his eyes, one you have never seen before. Din tries to pull back on your bicep, trying to alleviate the situation, but you stay steadfast. “I will take that map now, Your highness.” You bite through the title, wanting it to cut. Korkie lifts his chin with an authoritative look, putting the rolled up map behind his back.

“Get this woman out of my meeting!” He calls out, and turns away. Your face drops, thinking you had the upper-hand, but realize that is taken away from you as two muscular guards pick you up, pulling you away from Din, and walking you out of the library. Korkie always does this, he’s madly in love with you until he’s not. It makes you remember that all of this is probably a ruse for power. Your heart and spirit drop, and you feel nothing but pure disrespect and rage. Din quickly follows. You try to writhe out of the guard’s grasp, not wanting to give up without a fight, but failing miserably. They were both very strong, probably because they had to compensate for how scrawny the Prince is.

“I can take it from here, gentlemen.” Din says, loudly, louder than you usually hear him speak. “I said I can take her!” Din yells when they don’t respond. Then, you hear the indefinite sound of a punch. These guards were still fully armored, but there was no withstanding the strength and brute force of your Knight when you were endangered. The guard Din had punched lets you go as a reaction, and you use it as an opportunity to take your now free hand and twist the wrist of the other guard off of you. All of the self-defense Din had previously taught you paid off in that moment as he yelled out in pain, not expecting your strength or skill. You were taught by the best, after all.

Now that you were free from the clutches of Korkie’s personal guards, you felt Din grab your hand and pull you. The two of you ran through the corridors, down another flight of stairs, and passed the throne room, making sure not to look back in the direction of the library. You ran parallel to the ballroom, and then finally down a final flight of stairs to the foyer of the castle. Din tugs you into a narrow hall, and down a spiral staircase. It was the way to the staff quarters, you remember from the day you went to the ocean. You were shocked and confused about what happened, and truthfully kind of exhausted. You were relieved when Din finally slowed down, and pulled you into Koska’s sister’s room. It was empty, thank the Stars.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them!” Din says and it startles you, but you do it. He pulls his helmet off with haste, tossing it to the floor with a clang. Din places both of his strong hands on either side of your face, pulling you towards him and then kisses you with so much force and hunger that you stumble back in surprise, your eyes cracking open for just a split second. You didn’t see much, because his face was so squished into yours. All you caught a glimpse of was his eyelashes for a millisecond, but that was enough. Din is pushing you against the wall, pinning you to it, and kissing you so hard that you have to pull away to get some air. “I don’t think I have ever been as attracted to you as I was when you stood up to that prick.” He chuckles, and you hum back. Din takes a deep breath before speaking up again, “What was on that map?” He asks, out of breath, too.

You sigh, sort of embarrassed, eyes still shut tightly, “It was the tunnel plans of the castle.”

“What, you mean the blueprints?”

“Yes.” Your eyes stay closed.

“The blueprints that are at least three-hundred years old?”

“Mhm.”

“How did you get your royal hands on those?” Din asks, baffled.

“It doesn’t matter! What does matter is that I made notes on the back of the map!” You blurt, feeling shame, “I wrote the estimated times it would take and which halls to take from my room!” You groan, so badly wanting to open your eyes. You remembered what you said to yourself all those weeks ago, however, reminding yourself that it should be his choice to show you his face and no one else’s. You sigh, “The Prince isn’t stupid! I’m sure he thinks I’m plotting something now!” You hope you don’t sound too panicked, but if you were being honest, you were. Din sighs, clearly frustrated, although you weren’t sure if he was sexually or emotionally… or a little bit of both. “I’m sorry.” You sigh, your hands coming up and searching for his shoulders. “I should not have been so careless.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You weren’t expecting him to agree with you, he usually doesn’t. He takes a calming breath, “…Are you plotting something?” He asks, his eyes moving between your closed eyelids in search of a non-verbal answer that he’ll never receive.

You don’t want to answer, but know you don’t have a choice. “Yes.” You feel guilty after saying it, although you aren’t sure why. Din exhales deeply this time. “But listen! We could run! I don’t have to stay here! We can fix this! We can get into Coruscant and they’ll never come looking for us, and then we can go to Nevarro, go to your home! We’ll take your son-“

“Rue.”

“What?”

“My son, his name is Rue.”

Rue. It was simple, to the point, just like Din’s. You liked it. “We’ll take Rue! Please, Din, we need to! It will be the only way we will ever be happy!” Your thumbs rub into the thick skin of his neck. You didn’t mean to vomit so much information on him at once, but he didn’t really give you an option.

He exhales deeply, and you know he’s processing everything you just told him. “We can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because!” He yells and it scares you. You drop your hands, your heart rate rising. A lump grows in your throat and you silently curse your emotions for betraying you. You swallow back a tear. He walks away from you and you hear the helmet pick up from off the floor. He puts it back on his head, and you know from practice and instinct when to open your eyes. When you do, he’s sitting on the chest at the end of the bed, his head dropped and hands pressed to the edge of the wood by his sides. You frown, and walk over to him. Din pushes his head into your abdomen, and you hold him there, just existing in not-so-comfortable silence. It’s tense, and not the type of tension that you usually like to experience with I’m.

He’s surprisingly the one to speak up, however. “We can’t… because Bo will hunt me and kill me and Rue and you… she’ll kill everything I love.” His voice cracks at the same time your heart does. Did he actually…

“Not to mention the war between our kingdoms it will start. Corellia can’t support itself in a war. We both know that.” Din sighs, maybe he was telling himself this just as much as he was telling you.

You sigh. He was right and you knew it, but it didn’t keep you from wanting to run away with him any less. “Din…” He looks up at you. “We have to get that map from Korkie.” You say, more stern but still comforting this time. His head tilts in question. You sigh, feeling guilty. “I wrote something else on it.” You look away from him, your eyes trailing. His hand reaches up to grab your chin, pulling your head to look right at him. Your eyebrows furrow. “Directions to your home.” The atmosphere in the room changes. You can feel it. “I know I shouldn’t have, I know it puts Rue in danger, but it gives us all the more reason to get that map back from Korkie as soon as possible.” His hand drops from your chin. You felt terrible.

“Okay, okay. We can check the library again and… if it’s not there we’ll go confront him. We’ll get it tonight.” He nods.

“Are you sure? What if he reads it?” You were surprised how lax he was, but something told you that he was controlling himself from his true emotions.

“As far as I’m concerned, the Prince has no reason to cause me or my family any harm.” He nods.

“Not yet.”

—

You swallow, your face inches away from the door of the Prince’s bedroom. Din was around the corner of the corridor, both of you knew this was something you would have to do on your own, without his support. You had never been here before, and after ample search in the library for the map all afternoon, there was no other option. It was late, but not inappropriately late. You wore that same dress you wore weeks ago, the soft blue one that was off the shoulder one that adorned your figure elegantly. It was one of the most sophisticated gowns in your closet. More mature than most of the flowy princess ballgowns. It was a diplomatic but still ethereal fashion choice, which you desperately needed after a humiliating encounter this morning. The scar on your shoulder from the endeavor in Keldabe had mostly healed, and only had a pale pink to it. You looked back at Din, who was peering around the corner, for some reassurance. He nodded, and you took a deep breath. Two knocks would be enough. The door swings open, and you are suddenly very aware that you would have to brave this encounter without the support of your trusted Knight. Korkie is who answers the door, and he looks mildly unamused to see you.

“Princess?” He tilts his head.

“Evening, I hope it is not too late?” You suggest, keeping your voice as monotone and unwelcoming as possible. You wanted him to know that you were here for a serious matter.. You noticed he was covering the door with his body, perhaps he was hiding something from you too.

“For my fiance? Never.” You hated being called that, but if it was what it took for him to invite you into the room,you could deal with it. Korkie’s room was large, it was far more spacious than yours. It had a billowing fireplace and sitting area, the ceilings twice the height of your suite’s, and a private library pushed into the northeast corner. You familiarize yourself with your surroundings, and the heir closes the door behind you. You silently scanned the room for the map, you would have to snatch it up without it being suspicious, and you could not explicitly ask for it again. “What do I owe this honor?” He says from behind, charming as usual, although his words did seem a bit slurred. You see that an opened book sat on the seat of a chair in the sitting area. He must have been reading before you interrupted him. You turn around, and lift your chin, trying to look and sound as put together and unsuspecting as possible.

You clear your throat, “I wanted to apologize for this morning.” You nod. It wasn’t true, but you had rehearsed with Din several times the best way to stall time as you looked for the map, and this was the best way of going about. “It was inappropriate behavior, especially in front of the General.” You disagreed with your own words, and felt bad lying, but it came so naturally when done to the Prince.

Korkie sighs, and crosses over the room, looking up at a portrait above the fireplace. Your eyes still searched for your map, but had no clue where it might be. This was your first time here, after all. “Worry not, Highness.” Korkie downs a bit of brandy that was sitting for him. You didn’t like him when he was drunk.

“You’re sure?” You figured that would have made conversation more natural, but he clearly was not in the mood for propriety. He pours another drink, and even pours one for you, offering it. You shake your head and mutter a ‘no thank you’, not really wanting to get drunk tonight. Din wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk. You admired that he respected you that much, but it also deprived you of the one thing worth all the pomp and circumstance. Korkie shrugs and drinks both, and you’re frankly appalled by this conduct.

“Indeed.” He hiccups. “Everyone loves a little show.” He chuckles, and you frown. Was that all your humiliation was to him? A show? “Now, Princess,” He takes a step towards you, and you feel so unprotected. Din would have stepped in by now, you knew that. You didn’t have the same sense of security you usually had when he wasn’t at your side. “Why did you really come here?” He asks, running his hand through his hair.

“Excuse me?” You nervously laugh. How did he figure any of this out? You take steps back that mirror his, trying to keep the same amount of distance between him and you but struggling to when you hit the post of his bed, your back flush against it. Your hands wrap around the wood working, and you look up at him nervously. You felt the same as you didn’t when you were cornered and harassed in the slum of Keldabe. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat, trying to solve something, anything. Where could that cursed map be?

“Don’t-“ He says through gritted teeth, he catches himself from lashing out, and collects his composure before speaking again. “Don’t assume I am blind.”

“I would never-“

“Liar!” He spits out and you flinch back. He laughs a few times, it’s that evil, frustrated laugh. It was the type of laugh that people do when they’re trying to calm themselves down, but in turn they simply seem more angry. You were genuinely scared, unsure of what to do in this situation. “What were the directions you wrote on the back of the map?” He asks, and you furrow your brows.

“I don’t know what you mean?” This was partially true. How did he not understand the very neat and clear directions on the back of the blueprints to the secret passages? And in all curiosity, why did he care?

Korkie grunts again. “You are foolish.” He was dangerously close to you, and you wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible. You wanted Din to come protect you, you needed him to. “Are you forgetting who you belong to?” His hand sets on your hip, and you flinch again.

“I belong to no one.” You defy.

“You belong to me.” He grits his jaw again. You closed your eyes out of instinct due to the sheer anger and tension in his tone. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you wished you had the authority to slap him. He laughs his chuckle of malice again, and then before you can blink, he leans in for a kiss. How could he? How could he take advantage of your vulnerable state like this? Your blood boiled, and just in time, you dodge his lips. You swoop under his arm, away from the bedpost and back to the security of a full room you can avoid him in. He looks at you, clearly appalled. You were dizzy, probably from adrenaline. You wished this was surprising, but it was the exact thing you expected The Prince to do. This is when you noticed the map was rolled up and on the floor beside the fireplace. The new perspective of the room is what made you see it. Had he intended to burn it?

“You know,” You say as you take a step towards the map, “You should have another drink.” You offer. “You’re clearly tense,” You stepped between each phrase, “And it would be better for everyone.” Somewhere deep down you wanted to believe that Korkie was only acting this way because he was drunk. But you knew it wasn’t true. You realized that everything inside of you was looking for a redeemable quality in him, a reason to stay perhaps. You wanted to believe he was worth staying for, but you knew that he wasn’t, not when everything you’ve ever wanted was just outside the door.

Before Korkie can take another step towards you, you’re bolting towards the map, snatching it up in your hands and then running towards the door. The adrenaline shoots through your veins, and it only grows when you hear him growl again and his heavy footsteps run after you. You have to physically hold yourself back from squealing in stress, your hand slapping over your mouth. You rip the door open, and try slamming it behind you, but Korkie’s arm is caught in the door, and you smash it. He cries out, and the commotion makes Din run down the hall towards you to check what was going on. Korkie was able to get a hand on the collar of your dress, and he tries to pull you back in, but your strength is enough to get away. You ran to Din, who looked concerned, you could tell by his stance alone. He was tense and his hands balled in fists at his side.

Korkie pulls open the door, holding his arm to his chest, and you look back, your heart racing. You are so relieved when you make it to Din, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers into his and pulling him down the hall in the same fashion he did early that day. Several guards who heard the heir’s yell were running in all directions, but none of them paid any attention to you, thank the stars.

You think you are crying, but you aren’t sure. You felt raw fear being alone with the Prince. You never wanted to be alone with him again, never.

You keep running nonsense in the castle, not really sure where you’re going but wanting to be anywhere other than there. Din is the one to stop you after the mindless escape, pulling you into a branching hallway and against an unsightly window. He grabs both of your arms, and pulls you flush against his chest. He holds you there for a long time, and you both get a chance to catch your breath. You cry into the beskar chestplate, and feel rather foolish for reacting as such. Din was silent, and just held you, his strong arms wrapped around you as tightly as they could be.

“What did he do to you?” He asks, and you sigh out pathetically. Din repeats his question, still calm and gentle, but more urgent.

“I-I was so scared.” You stutter. Din somehow squeezes you tighter after you say this. After you collect yourself a little more, you can speak again, “he was drink-“

“Did he… touch you?”

You weren’t sure why you felt like you were in trouble, but aggressively reminded yourself that Din would never be upset with you, at least not for something like this. “Yes… But not very much, he just touched my hip and leaned in to kiss me.”

“Did he?”

“No!” You say almost defensively, “I got away just in time.” You pull away and look up at him with teary eyes. His hand comes up, and he pulls the glove off. His bar hand caresses your flushed face, swiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry-“

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” You breathe out shakily. “For crying I guess? For letting the map get away? For letting him touch me-“ You try to look away but his fingers catch your chin again, pulling your gaze back onto his helmet.

“Stop that. It’s not your fault. He is disgusting for doing that.” Din nods, and you swallow a sob. “Do you understand?” He asks, and you slowly nod once. “And promise me, that you’ll never ever blame yourself for anything like that ever again, okay?” You nod again. “Promise me!” He wasn’t angry or forceful, just steadfast with his words. He meant what he was saying.

“I promise.” You mutter. After you reply you hear his exhale in his armor. He pulls you against his chest again, and you can feel it move with each breath. You wished you could hear his heartbeat again like you could when you wake up next to him. You’re able to finally relax, and his embrace was the most calming thing you had ever experienced.

“I was worried sick about you.” He says, far more soft spoken than his remarks before. You didn’t verbally reply, but he was able to read how you felt. “I don’t like you being alone with him.”

“Me neither.” You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the final few tears fall out of your lashes. “All the more reason to leave.” He tenses after you say it, and his arms loosen a bit around your shoulders.

“You really want to?” He asks, you nod against his chest. “You know the possible consequences? This could mean the destruction of Corellia.”

“I know. That’s why it’s so hard. I don’t know what to do. I know what I want, and that is to leave here with you, but I don’t want my own selfishness to risk the lives of thousands who I vowed to protect.” You pull your head away from his chest.

“You… really want to live a life with me?” He asks, almost oblivious to your prior remark. You nod nod, or even say yes, but you just look up at him in all seriousness, hoping it would be enough.

It was.

“You don’t even know what I look like.” His arms drop. Did he think you a fool for that?

“We…” You debate your words, “We can change that.” You close your eyes, hoping that it would mean something to him, and maybe it did, but just as always, he didn’t show it. He just takes his cursed, gloveless hand and tilts your chin up to see him.

“In time we will, but only when it is right.” He nods.

It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but it was enough. It was more than anything he had ever given you before.

“Come on,” Din says gently, “There’s something I want to show you.” He beckons with his head down the hall, and you follow, interlocking your fingers with his again, the map in your other hand. You weren’t really sure how he was able to be so calm and reassuring, especially without showing an ounce of emotion through all of it, but it was a Godsend. You weren’t sure if Din loved you, at least not in the same way you loved him, but you were sure that he cared about you, and he wanted you to be safe and happy. And that was all you needed, for now.

“Had he read the map?” Din asks as you walk down a flight of stairs, descending the various levels of the palace and undoubtedly heading for the staff quarters again.

“I believe so.” You sigh, “Although he seemed confused about it. I think he was a little too drunk to fully comprehend, or he was giving me the benefit of the doubt.” You shrug.

“Well, at least we have it now, right?” Din asks, his head slightly turning back to look at you as he says it, and you give a nervous but relieved smile in response. The two of you loop through halls, and you’re very aware of how much the castle is winding down. Staff have retired for the night, doors were closed, even the usual laughter coming from parlors or the ballroom was silenced. Was it really that late? You didn’t really have much of a perception of time anymore after everything that had just happened.

The one part of the castle that was full of life, however, was the staff quarters. As you got closer, you could hear the usual laughter, and warm, welcoming light poured from the low corridor. Music played, it was loud, and your eyes searched for the spectacle that was just awaiting you.

“You said you wanted to get to know the staff better…”

“I did?” You ask.

“A few nights ago, you were really tired, you might not remember.” He shrugged. You didn’t really care whether or not you really said those things, what stuck out to you, however was that Din remembered that. He was observant enough to remember specific phrases you said, and not any phrases, the ones that were sleepy and probably full of nonsense. You would lie if you said you didn’t gush over that a little.

Din takes you into the staff common room, and it’s all clear. The warm smells, the enticing light, the infectious laughter, it all came from the whole castle staff crammed into this one room. There was food, and everyone laughed and danced to the music that a handful of staff members played. Their instruments were humble, probably retired from the royal orchestra years ago, but you could tell there were fond memories and stories linked with every single one. It was hot, and there were a lot of people crammed into the room. The doors were wide open, and the tables were pushed back against the walls so that the floor could be opened to a large and intricate group dance. It was nothing like the pompous dances that the nobility did at the ball, however. This dance was filled with joy, and mistakes were not only welcomed, but celebrated. Expression was the center of the party, and all types of people were involved. Children who were up far past their bedtime joined in the festivities, dancing and laughing and chasing one another, elderly staff sat at the tables, clapping along to the folk music, and the servants who usually give you sour tea and hot bread had their shoes off, jumping on the stone floor of the common area. Some of the knights and guards had their helmets on like Din usually did, and others did not. You realized it really probably boiled down to personal preference, or duty.

You smiled at the spectacle, and it gave you a deep and undeniable sense of community and love. You quickly learned that the livelihood of the castle did not rest in the parties and rules that an uptight Queen set in place, but the very people who made the castle work smoothly.

The laughter and joy was contagious, and you couldn’t stop yourself from joining the fun. You jump into the dance, not sure of the steps, but picking up your ridiculous skirt and starting anyways. You hoped it wasn’t obvious that you had been crying a half hour before, but no one paid any attention if it was. The women in the circle linked their arms with yours, and you spun in a circle. The one to your right couldn’t have been older than fifteen, and she yelled over the noise how to do the footsteps. You couldn’t really hear her, but looked down at her feet and tried to mimic it. You had the cheesiest smile on your face, and the room spun as you danced. Din crosses over to a wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms, watching you.

After that dance finished, another song started, and the moves were rather different. However, a girl pulled you out of the circle, and tugged on your dress. “It’s too big!” She shouts over the music, “You’ll never make it through the next song!” You nod and then walk over to a table. You stand on top of the table after a few jumbled ‘excuse me’s’. You were sure everyone recognized you, but they didn’t treat you differently for one moment. It was… refreshing. You kicked your shoes off, and several people turned to look at you, some cheered, others laughed. You then bite your bottom lip and pull the strings of the corset you wore, loosening it enough to slip out of your crinoline and ruffled-slip, leaving you in nothing but your undergarment petticoat and the top layer of the gown you were wearing. There was laughter, and you didn’t hear or see Din chuckle. You swayed your hips, and after a playful “huzzah!” from the crowd, a few knights helped you off the table. You immediately return to the dance circle, and you’re able to move much easier. You’re thrown back into the stimulating dance. The woman was right, this was much more physical, jumping and kicking was done and it was far more exciting than any of the proper waltzes you had spent your life dedicating time to.

You step out after two more songs, trying to catch your breath and wiping the sweat off your brow. There was alcohol, just hooch, but a bearded man gave you a big mug and you happily chugged it down. Din was impressed with your ability to consume so much so quickly. The men all cheered and hollered as you downed the drink, also impressed with the skill. You didn’t know you could do it, either.

A game of cards is being played, and you’re roped into that, too. You bet some money (money you didn’t have) and helped a tired, old man who usually worked in the stables play, after a few tough rounds, and struggling to learn the rules as you played, you won the pot for the old man. Three other much younger boys who usually worked at the front gate looked in shock as you pulled the money towards you and the man. He laughed and thanked you for your help.

Some little girls examined your crinoline and corset, a few older women all pinched your cheeks, and a fat man gave you a huge helping of mashed potatoes and greens. You got to overeat shamelessly, and it felt so rewarding after weeks of eating like a bird in fear of being judged by your in-laws. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world to be treated normally. You caught a glimpse of Soniee, who braided a boy’s hair. You even noticed that Koska was there, the center of one of the dance circles, swaying her skirt to the beat with another girl, the two dancing together in a vibrant duet of culture and community. Your feet only began to hurt when you were pulled to dance again, and your cheeks ached from smiling so wide. It was the most alive and accepted you had ever felt in Mandalore.

At one point, you found yourself just a few feet away from Din in the dance. You hold your hands out for him, beckoning him to join. “Dance with me!” You shout out. Before you get an answer, however, you're pulled back into the center of the group. It isn’t for a few more cycles and bars of the song that you’re back out by him. “Please?” You try to be as enticing as possible. He shakes his head, his hand coming up to decline. You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t dance!” He yells back. You roll your eyes and step out of the group momentarily. You grab both of his hands, your face with the cheesiest smile ever, and pull him onto the floor. He tries to fight back, but ultimately loses.

“Yes you do!” You reply, yelling as loud as possible so he might be able to hear you. “You proved it to me last week!” You say and in perfect time, your arms go up together with the beat of the song. He hadn’t done this dance before, but has watched it enough times to know what’s going on, although he looked rather awkward and foolish doing so. You grab his hand, your hips turning left to right in time, and you look down at your bodies, trying to show him as best as you can.

“I have no idea what’s going on!” Din yells at one point, the two of you now in the heart of the party.

“Me neither!” You laugh, “That’s what’s so wonderful about it!” Then came the part of the dance to clap your hands, the two of you clapping up by your face, and mirroring one another. “Now you’re getting the hang of it!” You nod. He rolls his eyes, and is thankful you can’t see it. It would be horrible for his reputation if anyone knew that he was having even a little fun, especially because it was with you. Din doesn’t usually come to these parties. They happen most Saturday nights, but he runs home to his son. Tonight, however, it was important to him that you got to experience it, especially after everything that happened earlier today.

You both start getting the hang of it, and Din mentally thanks his helmet for hiding the smile on his face. Your feet grapevine, and then you both jump. Everyone hoots and hollers, it’s part of the dance. Suddenly, the both of you are in the middle of the dance circle in the same way that Koska was with her partner a few songs ago, and you’re leading the spiral. You can’t wipe the darkish smile off your face and genuinely can’t believe you got him out here.

“Atta boy, Djarin!” Koska yells from a table, standing up and toasting a Ming of hooch. The music picked up in preparation for the big finish. Din and you spun around one another, your bodies coming flush until your palms press flat, your faces only inches apart. You always thought playing off of one another in a dance was important for the emotion during a waltz, but a fancy three-step had nothing on the emotion and passion put into a dance such as this. Somehow, you could still play off of him, and the performance was one of shared respect and assurance. Despite never having seen his face, you got the Knight, you understood him in a way no one ever did. The song ends, the two of you real close to one another, and out of breath. The entire room roared in joy as they cheered for the both of you, and you looked up at the visor of his helmet.

“I want to kiss you!” He yells, and although his request is very clear, no one can hear it over the volume of the room.

“Then kiss me!” You reply. You didn’t give a damn if every servant of the Mandalorian royal family saw it. He laughs, you feel it, and then he’s pulling his helmet up.

He just reveals his lips, but you look upon them with no shame, admiring the way his Cupid’s bow dipped, and the scruff on his jawline. You smiled wide, and he smiled back. You feel honored to share this moment with him. Everyone around you was so loud, and they were cheering for both you and Din. You couldn’t believe how many of them knew his name as they called it out in encouragement.

Din’s free hand wraps around your waist, and pulls it in tight to him forcefully, you blush at the gesture, and the crowd “ooh’s” flirtily at it. Din Djarin then kisses you. He pulls your body into his soft lips and you sigh into it and it;s too quiet for him to hear but as soon as your lips meet, the crowd of staff disappears. Their cheers blur together, and fade out. Your lips move together passionately, and you do so with no shame. He groans against you, and you can feel it more than you can hear it, and it’s all you ever wanted.

For weeks now you just wanted to share your love with him publicly, and now that you have, you’re aware of how personal your love with him really is.

The crowd fades back in, everyone laughing in support and amusement. Your lips softly party and you grin from ear to ear. Din does too, shameless for once. His teeth are nice and straight. Oh God, you loved his smile.

Oh Stars, you loved him.

“Din!” You yell out. “I love you!” It was time to say it, because it was true. You meant it and as you say it, giggle.

“What?”

“I love you!” It’s so loud that you’re even sure if he can’t hear it, you can barely hear it yourself. But, in classic Din Djarin fashion, he doesn’t answer. He was never good with words, and was much better at showing you what was on his mind. He kisses you again, just as passionately, but this time it’s a series of short, quick pecks on your lips that get progressively more sloppy. He smiles into each kiss and you feel those magic butterflies again.

The rest of the night is a dreamy blur, Din dances the whole time with you, the music eventually slows, you notice that there are less and less kids in the common room. It winds down, and your feet ache in the best way. An ache that would be associated with happy memories. It was long past midnight when you decided to stop dancing, and a lone fiddler is all who was left in the band, playing a ballad to end the night. There was still soft laughter, and a few stragglers who slowly danced to the music. Din was one of the few who were still playing cards, one of his fellow knights challenging him to a game. Din was always up for a challenge, and both he and the man he played against looked deep in thought. You realized you were finally able to read him through all that beskar, and he was far more reactive than you ever would have known if you weren’t looking for it. Your cheek sits in your palm, and your eyes are heavy, but you watch him fondly from across the room. Koska sits next to you, handing you a cup of water.

“You had fun.” She hums, taking a sip out of her own cup.

You nervously laugh in response, she wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t realize how connected you all were.” You say with a sigh before taking a sip of the water and being so relieved to finally get some hydration after all of the energy you exerted.

“Yeah…” Koska was in her typical undisturbed mood, relaxed and observant. “These are the people of Mandalore.” She sighs, “They are what we really represent. We aren’t all about war and decoration, there’s so much more to us that the world doesn’t see.” You were touched by that remark, because you had seen it too. “The truth that’s hard for all of us to believe is that the rest of the world only respects us to stay on our good side.” Her voice drops a little. She looks at you, her eyes heavy as always. You aren’t sure how to respond, because it was true. Koska takes another sip before changing the subject, “I’ve never seen him dance before.” She nods towards Din. “At least not like that.” She laughs into her cup.

You smile, “I didn’t think he had it in him.” You tease.

“He wouldn’t have if you weren’t there.” Koska shrugs. “He’s like a whole different person around you. It’s refreshing.”

“He told me about everything that happened.” You reply. “With him and Bo.”

“He did? I don’t think he’s really talked to anyone about it.”

“He just told me last week, after the ball.” You nod. “I had no idea… but it all makes sense in the end.” You finish off the last of your water as his card game finishes, the few people watching cheering as Din lays down his cards and wins. The other knight, whose face was also covered by a heavy, beskar helmet slammed his fist down on the table in defeat. Din took the money that was on the bet.

“He’s better because of you.” Koska says, smiling as he wins. “I’ve had to look out for him in a way for a long time, he’s one of my oldest friends.” She speaks of him fondly. “But I feel like he doesn’t need me as much anymore, now that you can keep an eye out for him.” Koska turns to look a t you, but you don’t notice it. “You love him?”

“I do.” You nod. “Well… I think I do.” You sigh, “I don’t really know what love is I suppose, but I believe how I feel about him is the closest thing to it.” You shrug. “And I’m totally fucked because of it.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Koska explains, “I’ve never been in love either.”

“Really?” You ask, mildly shocked in all honesty. Koska nods. “There’s no one special in your life?”

“Well, there’s one girl.” Koska begins, “But my feelings towards her are more of an… obligation, I suppose.”

“I used to worry that’s how Din felt about me.” You admit.

“Oh trust me,” She chuckles once, “It isn’t like that for him at all.” She hums and you sigh in response, you sit in comfortable silence for a moment after that before Koska speaks up again, “What are you gonna do?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” You admit, turning to look at her, “But now that the majority of the castle staff has seen us kiss, I need to think of something.”

“That was pretty stupid, by the way.” Koska rolls her eyes.

You chuckle, “I suppose it was…” Din starts walking back to you, “But I can’t seem to care. I’m sick of hiding from everyone.” Din makes it to the two of you, and you smile as you look up at him.

“It’s not much,” He holds out the money before pocketing it, “But Rue will be happy.” He laughs and holds a hand out for you to take. “How drunk is she?” He asks Koska.

“She’s fine-“

“I only had one drink!” You roll your eyes, knowing that your night with Din will end very quickly if you were drunk. You take his hand and he hoists you up with him.

“Hm… that’s what you said the other night.”

“She’s okay, maybe a little tipsy but nothing keeping her from holding a perfectly normal conversation.” Koska says to Din, knowing full well why he even asked, a smirk plasters on her face.

“Come on.” Din hums, and pulls you down one of the various halls that branch from the common room, but not the one that both of you were familiar with because of your aid from Koska.

Din leads you through the candle-lit halls, and into a small bedroom. It was cramped, and there was barely enough room for the both of you, but it was cozy. He lit an oil lamp, and it illuminated the room just enough. Din slowly pulls off his helmet, and it’s so dim that you can’t really see anything like normal, but you can make out faint features and the light in his eyes. It was enough. He started to take off his armor too, and you patiently waited with your back against the outerwall that the window was in. He sets the chestplate and pauldrons in a neat pile on the foot of the bed, and kicks his boots off. His arm comes up to rub his neck, and he stretches a few times. He pulls the chainmail up over his head, leaving him in the same peasant blouse and trousers that he wore at the beach all those days ago. You would never get used to how trim his waist was, and how broad his shoulders were. He turns around, and has a smile on his face. You wished you could see him in the light. Din runs his hands through his thick curls and then steps towards you. You close the gap and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for an innocent kiss.

“Thank you.” You mutter.

“What for?”

“For bringing me here tonight… for being with me.” You sigh, and look up at him lovingly. He sighs, and kisses you again. Din starts to deepen the kiss, and you moan into his lips. He was a good kisser, that was for sure.

[SMUT BEGINS HERE]

Din wastes no time, he picks you up by the thighs, lifting you on his waist so you’re kissing down into him, and before you know it, he’s kissing your jaw. Din had learned your body, he knew the sweet spot on your jaw, and always knew just how long he could suck on it before it became a hickey. He never crossed that line, he knew when to stop, but how badly you wanted him to mark you up so Korkie could see, you wanted everyone to see who you loved and why. His strong hands bunch up your skirt, and lift it up so your ass could be uncovered. His arms hold you, and he stumbles back until he falls on the bed in the room. You straddle the knight and get comfortable on his lap. You can feel his hard-on growing, and you’ll never get over the confidence boost that gives you. You start to tentatively rub your hips so that you grinned down into him. You get a sting of pleasure through your spine, and you’re already getting wet. Because you were down in the lower level of the palace, and was totally isolated from most people with thick, stone walls, you take advantage of the opportunity to make noise. You moan into Din’s mouth, and he holds his lips apart for you. His breath against your face was enough alone to drive you crazy, and your fingers twist around the strands of curly, brown hair that sit at the nape of his neck.

Din’s thick, calloused fingers find their way between your legs from the back, and he starts to gently run his fingertips through your slick folds. You gasp at the feeling, he was so gentle with every move. He starts to moan as well as your hips grind further into him in search for more friction and pleasure, and the sound of his voice unobstructed by the beskar is your favorite sound in the whole world. Din settles into his seat, and he pulls you forward onto him. This allows your hips to lift up just enough that he can insert a finger through your cunt. He starts pumping his wrist immediately, fingering you. You pulled your lips away from him, and sat up straight. You throw your head back with a moan, and then bring your hands to the tucked in portion of your shirt. You pull it up over your head, and wriggle out of the slip that kept you clothed. You were finally naked, and you took your free hands and squeezed each nipple. Between the feeling of Din’s fingers deep inside of you, his growing-bulge rutting against your clit, and the added pinch of your nipples, you were already in a euphoric bliss that didn’t take long to reach.

“Din-“ you moan his name, which he loved. He’s eager, and isn’t afraid to show it. Din pulls his cock out from his trousers, and he lets you grind against the tip. You keep it from going in, trying to tease him in the same way that he did the morning after the ball. It was really just driving you over the edge, really, and so before you let his swollen tip prod at your slickness anymore, you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, and take a deep breath before sinking down onto him. Both of you moan out when you do, and he throws his head back, exposing a thick cord of muscle in his neck. You bend down to nip at his adam’s apple before suckling into his tan skin, making sure to leave a massive, purple bruise on the middle of his neck. You bottom out as you do this, and the sensation shoots up your body. You liked being on top for the sheer fact that it gave you a different angle. Din’s length was pressing up into you now, and he filled you up delightfully. Your favorite feeling in the world was being stuffed by him like this.

You could feel every inch of him as you lifted your hips up, you were so wet and it was already such a loud, obscene noise. You kept sucking hickeys into him, and your hands moved from his neck down to the hem of his blouse. You grab the sheer fabric, and pull it up over his head so that Din is finally as shirtless as you. His huge hands stay on your ass, squeezing the fat there and using his own strength to lift you up and down on his cock. It’s slow at first, but it allows the both of you to really savor the feeling of one another. You scratch your fingernails down his pecs, scratching at his abdomen, and then finally trailing in between your legs to circle at your clit as the pace picked up. You lean forward to rest your glistening forehead on his bare shoulder, and your bare chests press into one another.

Din begins to thrust his hips up, and before you know it, you’re bounding on his cock. It’s fast and hard and your weight is slamming you down on to him over and over again with no end in sight. It’s painful in a good way, the same type of ache that would have good memories and passion attached to it. You knew your core would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it as Din’s huge cock runs against your g-spot over and over again inside of you. Your fingers speed up on your clit, and you bite down on Din’s shoulder muscle to keep from being too loud. He’s grunting and growling and is absolutely feral and the noises eliciting off of his kiss-swollen lips are needy yet dominate at the same time. You could get drunk on his breathy-sighs, his voice as dark and husky as always.

“That’s it,” He groans into your ear, you moan in response to his words. You loved when he was vocal because it was so rare that he actually was. “Are you gonna cum on my fucking cock, Princess?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You pathetically moan.

“Fuck-“ he groans, and then shifts his position. Suddenly, the two of you are standing up, and the way his length moves and twitches inside of you as he stands up pulls an involuntary moan from your lips. Din lifts you up with his arms, arching his torso back so that you can lean on him. He then gets right back at the task at hand: chasing your orgasm. It was close, you could feel it, and somehow Din seemed to have more energy and strength in this position. He lifted you up and down on his cock, and your arms found their place wrapped back around his neck, desperately trying to hold yourself up as he absolutely tears into you. He was so big, you keep forgetting how thick he is until his swollen and hard cock is filling you up like you were only made for this exact thing.

He must have gotten tired, you could tell not only by the sheen layer of sweat on his chest, but he pulled you off of himself, and threw you onto the bed. You giggle at the forceful contact, and like being tossed around in bed. It made you feel small, and it really showed his strength. Din pumps his leaking cock a few times, kneeling in front of you and pulling your legs apart. You bite your lip out of lust before he slaps the head of his length on your cunt a few times. The sound is so dirty, and it makes you even wetter.

“Stars, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He bites his lip, slapping his cock harder against you. “Can you hear that? Can you hear how fucking wet that pussy is?” He asks you. Stars, he was good at this.

“Yes… so wet for you.” You sigh, your hand coming down to play with your clit again. Din mutters a ‘that’s right’ before he slides himself through your folds a few times again before pushing into you one more, and he doesn’t hold back. His hands find their way to your hips, and he presses them down into the bed as hard as he can, pinning you in place. He starts to pound into you, and it knocks the wind out of you because of how abrupt and forceful it is. You can’t even really make noise to show how good it was, and instead a few strangled and helpless cries pull from your throat.

“Do you fantasize about my cock when you’re with your fiance? Hm? Does it turn you on knowing that you’re cheating on him?” He asks, and you can finally moan out. He was right, he knew you would say yes.

“Yes!” You say, “I can’t stop thinking about your cock!” You reply, your voice high-pitched and so needy.

“Do you think about me fucking this pussy like a bitch on my cock when you’re in important meetings?” He asks again. There was something about the disrespect that you loved, it only made things better.

“Yes sir!” You cry. Din chuckles and then smacks your ass cheek. His slamming into you so hard that you can’t believe he hasn’t gotten tired yet. You can see how his muscles flex against the moonlight and your core is aching from the knight but it’s all worth it. “I’m gonna cum!” You warm, arching your back in pleasure. Din then spits on your cut, adding to the hot wetness and dirty sounds, and he pulls your fingers away from your clit and replaces them with his.

“Cum with me,” He groans, and almost immediately, you’re cumming on his leaking cock at the same time that he does. He cums so much, and you’re always surprised by it. His load drips down your folds, and he fucks you through it. It’s filthy and you want to keep doing it for the rest of your life. Your arms come up to grasp his biceps, trying to steady yourself on anything. Din moans loud when he cums, and it isn’t until he starts softening inside of you that he quits thrusting. He doesn’t pull out, however, and he stays stuffed inside of you as he catches your breath. You’re fucked-out, your eyes heavy and breasts heaving with each deep breath that tries to calm your heart rate. “I love cumming in you.” He sighs. You already knew that, but you loved how he told you. He goes to pull out, but your thighs squeeze together, holding him in place.

“Stay inside.” You whine. Din tilts his head.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He bends down to kiss your forehead, and then very carefully and slowly turns the two of you so that he is spooning you, his cock still buried inside your dripping and swollen cunt. “You did good, you did so good.” He kisses your neck as he says these, breathing in deep your scent. “S’good… so good.” He catches his breath, and is just as exhausted as you are, if not more. His chest heaves against your back, and his arms pull you against him. You fight against sleep, but ultimately fail, submitting to rest almost immediately after Din pulls the blanket over the both of you. Just before you fall asleep, you hear him mumble something against your neck, although you aren’t sure what it is.

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—

part fifteen

[junosartsthetic]

Feel like I'm requesting too much 3 with Tenya Iida :)

“Have you ever felt like this before?”

Well, well, well, if it isn't my old friend getting carried away with writing. We meet again. But seriously. I love writing and you can never request too much. I love fulfilling requests. And this was super cute to write!

__

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he’d never been to a theme park before. Being that he was from a rich family, you were surprised. Though, being that Tenya was all work and no play, you shouldn’t have been too in shock.

You, being the daredevil you were, dragged him straight to the most intense coaster in the entire park. Lucky for you, Tenya had managed to buy some fastpasses, thus you ran straight to the start of the ride, bouncing excitedly.

“Are you positive these rides are safe,” he mumbled to you. You shot him a look.

“Umm, yeah?” You noticed he shook slightly. “Are you scared or something? We could have planned something else to do for fun, ya know.”

You nudged his arm. “We’re friends. You can tell me if you don’t wanna be here. I won’t be mad or anything.”

He shook his head, giving you his usual friendly smile. “No, it’s okay. I want to try something new. And I want to spend time with you.”

One of the operators gestured to the two of you, pointing to the front of the coaster. “Alright, the two of you get row 1.”

You squealed happily. “Oh yeah, this one is especially great in the front row because you can see the giant drop before you start going!”

Iida’s smile lessened. “Sounds… great.”

You sat down, Iida taking the seat next to you. You pulled down your restraints, locking yourself into place. “Just pull it down over your head,” you said. “They’ll come and double check you’re strapped in.”

He did as told, and after a quick check, you heard the main operator give the all clear.

“Have fun, folks,” she called. “And enjoy the 300 foot drop!”

“The WHAT?” Iida cried, nervously looking around. You put a hand on his leg.

“It’ll be fun,” you reassured. “Don’t worry.”

The car began to climb up the hill slowly, chains rattling as you were pulled higher and higher into the air. You could see the entire park, and you made sure to note the locations of the other popular coasters.

Meanwhile, Tenya looked around helplessly.

You heard the pull chain stop, and looked down at the massive drop dead ahead. “Alright, now be sure to pose for the camera. It’ll be at the middle of the drop!” you yelled.

Tenya didn’t have time to respond, the car roaring down the hill. You felt your butt leave the seat, and whooped excitedly. You managed to throw up a peace sign as you passed the camera.

You turned towards Iida as the car squealed up the first loop. His eyes were wide, and he gripped the sides of his glasses to keep them from flying off his face. Despite this, he had a large smile on his face.

“See! It’s fun!” You yelled. “It’s like using your quirk but you get to go upside down and stuff!”

His shoulders relaxed when the coaster slowed at a plateau, preparing for another massive drop. “You were right, these are exhilarating!” he yelled back to you.

His voice quaked with nervousness, but he was buzzing with excitement.

When the coaster finally pulled back into the station, he was smiling widely, clapping. You’d never seen him so relaxed before. “I see what all the commotion is about!”

“I told you!”

You wasted no time in leading him to all the best rides in the park, and by the end of the day your brains felt like scrambled eggs, but your adrenaline and excitement were unmatched. “We need to get souvenirs!” you said, gesturing to a shop beside the coaster you just rode. He nodded.

“Of course! I’ll pay for them!”

Normally, you would argue, but you decided to let it go. Afterall, he was rich.

You walked in, perusing the different shirts and hoodies they had. You spotted one you liked and grabbed two of them. “Here,” you said. “We can match!”

You set them on the counter and smiled at the employee. She smiled back. “D’aww. Matching shirts. Cute.”

Iida swiped his credit card.

She bagged the two shirts, handing them to you. She leaned in close. “Girl, he’s a keeper. These are overpriced as hell.”

You blushed. “Oh, umm, we…” you decided to simply smile and nod.

You and him exited the store, and you immediately threw on the shirt, telling him to do the same. “C’mon,” you said. “We gotta take a picture and post it. Let our friends know that I actually got you to ride a roller coaster.”

You pulled out your phone, smiling widely as you threw up a peace sign. Iida did the same. “Say cheese,” you said, snapping the picture.

You posted it to Instagram with the caption, ‘A fun day with the prez. P.s. @Denkichu I told you he’d enjoy it!’

You slid your phone back into your pocket, looking towards Tenya. “The park is almost closed so we should probably head towards the entrance.”

You noticed he was looking around in awe. “Wow,” he muttered. He clutched his shirt. “Have you ever felt like this before? I feel so happy. This has been the most I’ve smiled in a long time.”

You gave him a nudge. “I know. You’ve been smiling all day. You can always come here again, as often as you want, if you enjoy it. Maybe you can take some of our other friends along. I’m sure they’d be in shock at how much you like it here.”

He shook his head, turning towards you. “I don’t think it’s just this park. Being here with you is what really makes me smile.”

You clutched your chest. “Aww, you make me smile, too. That’s what friends are for!”

He suddenly looked away. “Yes. Right. Of course.”

You grabbed his arm. “Hey. You okay?”

He moved to grab your hand, pulling you towards the first roller coaster you rode. “Let’s ride this again. I need to tell you something before we leave here.”

You shrugged. “Alright.”

It didn’t take long for you to be off, creeping up the giant hill. This time, you could see the night sky, lights of the park shining below you. You were tempted to pull out your phone to take a picture but decided against it.

You looked towards Tenya. “Alright, so what did you want to tell me? Quickly, before we drop 300 feet and I start screaming.”

He gulped. “Well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I appreciate you dearly. You’re a wonderful friend, and…”

The drop drew ever closer.

“I’m flattered,” you said. “But maybe get to the point a little faster…”

He clutched his eyes shut as the car stopped, starting to tip over the edge. “I think I’m in love with you!”

Your eyes widened, and the car careened downwards.

“Tenya!” you screamed over the sounds of the track. “Did you just say ‘I’m in love with you’!?” You couldn’t be sure.

“Yes!” he yelled, gripping onto his restraints as he dangled upside down. You noticed his glasses slipping off and clutched the sides of his face to keep them steady. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything but this trip made me realize it! I believe that telling you is the best thing to do! I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings!”

The second drop was quickly approaching, and as the car slowed, you smiled at him. You brought his face closer to you. “Don’t be stupid, Tenya!” you said. “Of course I reciprocate your feelings, you nerd!”

He placed his hands atop yours. The car dropped, speeding down the second drop. “Do I have your permission to kiss you!” he yelled.

“Yes! Hurry up before we pull back into the station and get kicked out for PDA!”

With that, he closed the gap.

You pulled away from him just as you slid to a stop. Your cheeks were burning, and your adrenaline was pumping wildly through your veins. That was the most heart-racing thing you’d ever done.

You cleared your throat as you pulled back into the station. Quickly releasing your restraints and hopping out of the car, you dragged him out of the coaster and back onto the main walkway.

“For such a formal person,” you quipped, leaning against his shoulder. “That was quite the confession.”

“Well,” he responded, fixing his glasses awkwardly. “You’re quite the person to confess to.”

You smiled softly, pecking him on the cheek. “Let’s get outta here. We still have time to get ice cream tonight.”

He nodded, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Of course. Anywhere you want to go, I’ll go with you.”