#last night i was so tired that i tagged a post half asleep and the next morning

[verareids]

feel the same - s.r. x bau!reader

spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3

also posted on ao3

“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”

Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be. 

He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.

“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation. 

“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”

“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.

~

Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.

When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?

~

The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.

“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.

“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.

“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.

“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.

“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.

“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.

“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.

“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”

“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.

“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.

“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.

“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.

“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback. 

“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”

“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.

“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.

“You didn’t tell me either.”

“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.

“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm. 

You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)

[stepintothelimelight]

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄SHE CAN GO HOME, BUT SHE’S NOT GOING TO

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　° i would do

anything

you want me to…. ✧ ⁺ ┊

PART 4 of the Spitfire Saga

TRAILER: A home race that doesn’t feel like home anymore

(2018!f1grid x fem!Genz!driver!reader, max verstappen x reader (platonic), lewis hamilton x reader (platonic) sebastian vettel x reader (platonic))

For more Spitfire content go to my account and it’s my pinned post since tumblr hates me and won’t let me link anything :)

WARNINGS: FAMILY ISSUES, mentioned child abuse, swearing, gratuitous hurt/comfort, reader’s birthday happens before the gp, mention of a suicidal thought, ANGST, barely edited :)

fc: an assortment of female celebs

Aaaaannnnd ACTION!

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f1

f1: 🇺🇸🦅💥💥💥HOME RACE FOR Y/N L/N 🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅 

 American fans - be there or be 🟦

📍Circuit of the Americas

tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1

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You arrive early, per usual, to make sure you have time for every fan, and maybe to catch a glimpse of Taylor Swift, who will be singing the national anthem today.

Your phone call with Seb last night quickly turned into him and Hanna knocking on your hotel room door and enveloping you in their arms. You fell asleep between the two of them, a comfort show playing on low volume in the background.

You hate that it caught you off guard. A small, stupid part of you actually believed that your family - your mother - could love you like they - like she- was meant to. 

It was supposed to be fun. You dressed up, treated them to one of the nicest restaurants in Austin. The second they arrived, though, it all turned to shit. 

At least your fans are majorly little girls and they couldn’t care less if you’re having widely photographed, public arguments with your older brother after a family dinner turned sour. 

Miraculously, you get into the paddock unscathed by prying questions into your personal life. You just get set up in your drivers room for Qualifying and try to put it all behind you. You don’t see Taylor, and unlike any other day, you don’t have the energy to face the paddock.

As you rearrange your hangers for the hundredth time, there’s a knock on your door. You sigh. Most of the team knows that you like your private time before any event, especially your first home race. 

“Yeah?”

The door opens slowly. It’s Lewis. Since the beginning of the season, your relationship with him has definitely developed. He’s good friends with Seb and you have a sneaking suspicion that he has told Lewis to keep an eye on you where Seb can’t. He’s become a sort of mentor-slash-friend and you couldn’t be happier, especially since you’ve both signed on for another few years at Mercedes. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you say. 

Lewis sent me this. 

“Did you hear about Taylor Swift?” You exclaim. “How cool is that?”

He grants you a trademark half-smile. 

“Consider it a belated birthday gift.”

You eyes widen and your mouth drips open.

“It was you?”

He shrugs.

“It wasn’t very hard to convince her.”

You hurry over to him, hesitate for a second, then hug him gently. You’ve never hugged him in a normal setting. You break off of him and stand there, not quite knowing what to say next.

“Home race,” He says awkwardly. Lewis is hardly ever awkward. “Big deal.”

“Yeah.” You don’t mean to sound annoyed. Or tired. Or defeated. 

“Family coming? I’d like to meet them. I don’t think I have, yet. “

That’s true. Your mother has been to two Grand Prix since the start of the season and your father and brother one, respectively. They’re busy people, but after last night, some part of you wonders if your mother intentionally schedules conflicts so that they can never make it. 

That’s stupid, she says in your head. We love you. You’re the one who makes this whole thing impossible. 

When they have shown up, you’ve kept them as far away as possible from cameras, and Lewis draws every camera in every room he steps foot in. Maybe your brother is right. Maybe you hide them because of some secret shame you hold for them. The only thing you’re ashamed of is how complicated your relationship with your family is. 

“No. I-“

What?

Sent them home? 

Told them to never show their faces around the paddock again?

Cried into Seb’s chest all of last night wishing I was dead because of how horrible they make me feel?

“Couldn’t deal with them today,” you say decisively. The media might see you as a stone cold bitch, so why not Lewis, too. 

“They’re your family.”

“They hate me,” you whisper, turning back you your hangers. You’ve never said it out loud. Not to Max or Charles, not even to Hanna last night when she was helping you wash your face through swollen eyes and a runny nose.

“I’m sure they don’t-“

“You’ve never met them. My mom hates me. She loathes me and for the life of me I can’t figure out why. I have given her everything and she still don’t bring herself to even like me a little bit. The rest this I’m too independent, too liberal, not liberal enough, too opinionated, too young, too smart, whatever. My dad and his side wish I went to university and my mom’s side tries to chase the fame. It sucks. It didn’t use to be like this, but it is now.”

You spare a glance back at him. He’s wide- eyed. This is probably the most he’s heard you talk without cracking a joke or bursting out laughing.

“Have you told Seb? Or… Max, Charles?”

“Seb, yes. Max would order a hit on my entire family if I told him this type of thing and Charles would hide the evidence.”

What you told Charles at Christmas, he didn’t acknowledge then and there, but he was noticeably cold to your mother when you brought her to see him.  

Lewis studied you, then a look dawns on his face. It’s a mix of dread and fury, but he schools it quickly.

“Y/n,” He says in a very serious tone. “Don’t lie to me.”

Your brow furrows.

“Do they - does your mother or your father hit you?”

It wasn’t the question you’d expected, but it still makes your blood turn cold.

You think for a second, contemplate his expression, run the risks of him exploding if you tell him the truth. 

“No…” you trail off. “Once. I made her mad when I was fifteen and-“ you raise your own hand and slap your face. “Never after though.”

She cried into your shoulder for hours after, telling you just how sorry she was, how she would never dream of laying another violent hand on you again. 

Lewis’s mouth opens then closes. You purse your lips. 

“I don’t need my family,” you whisper. “And I don’t need you to worry about me. I’m fine.”

He gives you a look, one that says:

There’s no way in hell I believe you.

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chalmaxy/nship

chalmaxy/nship: Max and Charles (+Pierre) teaming up to cheer Y/n up 😫 they are sooooo whipped for her (even tho they pretend they hate each other 🙄)

tagged: max33verstappen, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, yourusername, f1

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The video starts with the camera fixed on a very angry - looking Y/n. Her brow is set and her mouth is distorted in a flat line, which of course, is to be expected. She was obviously off her usual top-five worthy game today and has earned herself a starting position of P20.

The interviewer asks her a series of questions that she responds to very flatly and emotionlessly, so much so that her press officer elbows her in the side more than once to get an actual, genuinely not sarcastic answer out of her. 

And then -

“Do you think your family issues are the reason you’ve performed so miserably today?”

She stops. Pauses, opens her mouth then closes it again. 

“That,” she drags out bitingly. “was an incredibly stupid and insensitive question. Every question you’ve asked me today has been either completely patronizing or borderline inappropriate.”

She shoots a look at her press officer, shakes her head slightly, then leans into the microphone.

“You’ll understand why we’re choosing to cut this interview short.”

And then she turns and leaves the media pen.

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mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1: AAAAAaaaaaannnnnddd she’s done it again! A home race win is yet another thing our Spitfire can check off of her bucket list 💪 

tagged: yourusername

liked by yourusername, f1 and 63720 others 

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user6: Admin really said yes she’s a spitfire yes she’s OUR Spitfire 

user7: did anyone else notice how down Y/n seemed up on the podium tho

⮑ user11: Yeah, definitely not the energy we’re used to up there

yourusername: 🖤🖤

⮑user12: girl I need to know the tea behind the story and the tweet 🙏🙏🙏

user7: Call me crazy but she’s the biggest talent of her generation, not Verstappen 

⮑ user8: you’re crazy

⮑user9: @/user8: did we not just watch the same race? 

user10: she’s making the sport annoying.

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yourusername

yourusername: Great home race win guys! 🇺🇸💥💥🦅💥 lovely to share the podium with maxie and lewie

tagged: mercedesamgf1

liked by max33verstappen, charles_leclerc and 738291 others 

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max33verstappen: Get ready, I’m coming to get you in an hour to celebrate 

⮑yourusername: I can’t drink here dumbass

⮑user13: MaxY/n confirmed???

taylorswift: So glad I finally got to meet you in person! 

⮑ user14: TAYLOR SWIFT WAS THERE AND Y/N DIDNT EVEN MENTION IT???? OH SOMETHING’S WRONG WRONG

⮑ yourusername: 🖤

user15: U go Spitfire!!

user16: Y/n is such a bitch. 

lewishamilton: This is starting to sound redundant, but congrats Y/n!

user17: I still can’t get over how rude she was to that reporter 

⮑user18: EVERY reporter is rude and/or patronizing towards her. She deserves to bite back once and a while

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True to his word, Max knocks on your door. You get up from the spot you’ve been staring out the window and open it.

He’s dressed up, ready to go out drinking, you suppose. You’ve changed into your pajamas and tied your hair up sloppily. 

He arches his eyebrows.

“Ready to celebrate?”

You shrug. 

“Not really in the mood. Plus I can’t drink here. You go ahead, tell the team to send me the bill and I’ll pick it up.”

You go to close the door then. He kicks his foot between the door and the doorframe. 

“Come out. It could still be fun,” He offers. “It’s your home race. I’d be happy if I won at spa.”

He raised his eyes brows at you and you look down guiltily. You should be happy. You’ve broken a record of some kind, you’re pretty sure, and every other driver dreams of winning his home race. 

“You’d be happy because your family would be there to see it,” you say bitterly. “Because then you’d be able to prove to them it wasn’t all for nothing. That you’re not selfish or - or something.”

Max closes the door when he hears your voice tremor. There’s a hard concern in his eyes. 

“Go, Max. You should celebrate.”

“I don’t want to anymore.”

You look him up and down. He’s gelled his hair and put on a non redbull shirt. Obviously he’s gearing up for a big night of celebrating. 

“Tell me,” He says. “You can talk to me. I’m not a stranger to family issues.”

You scoff and flop onto your bed. 

“It’s not a big deal.”

“You love partying. It’s a big deal.”

It’s quiet, except for his slightly heavy breathing. Here’s Mad Max Verstappen, standing at the foot of your bed begging you to confide in him with his eyes. His big, sad, droopy eyes.

You cover your face with the your arm.

“I can’t believe they actually left,” you choke out. “I told them to go and they just … left. The first time my entire family could muster up the time and effort to spend an entire weekend supporting me and they decide to just go home.”

Max moves towards you, hesitates, then settles himself on the floor next to your bedside table. 

“Why?”

You huff. 

“I don’t know. I push them away. I get on my mom’s nerves. I try too hard to impress my dad. Did you know,” you take a deep breath. “Did you know my mother hasn’t told me good night or I love you in five years?”

He sits and stares out the window. 

“Why doesn’t she love me, Max?”

It comes out more pathetic than you wanted it to. Max is probably one of the only people who might get it, just a little. 

“Schat…” he trails off. “I don’t know.”

Max is two years older than you. Sometimes those two years feel like a lifetime. You wish he was a lifetime older than you so he would know.

“Maybe…” He trails off. “Fuck. Maybe some people just aren’t made to be parents.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to try and push down the sobs building in your chest. Max, thankfully, doesn’t react when you let out a soft gasp and sniff wetly. He just sits there and stares out the window

Eventually, you curl up in your bed and Max sits a on the other side (on top of the covers, a safe two feet away) and turn on Star wars (The prequels - he’s a huge nerd, surprise, surprise).

Maybe some people aren’t made to be parents.

Maybe some people aren’t made to be daughters. 

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✧ ⁺ ⁺ Yelled down the hall

but nobody answered ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

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Aaannnnnnddd scene!

DIRECTOR’S CUT: A short and sad angsty hurt comfort type of thing… next chapter i swear will be happier !!

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

Six days in a row and you’re ready to keel over. Amid your busy schedule, you hadn’t a chance to fill your quickly dwindling cupboards and fridge. So, after a ten-hour shift on your feet, running all around the tables and between tea rooms, you expend the last of your strength on a quick trip to the shop. 

It isn’t too far out of your way. It’s just a half-block away from your stop. You could wait until tomorrow, your day off, but you’re dying for a strawberry shortcake mochi before you tuck into bed. The rest of your night isn’t too unusual; you’ll be happy to fall asleep to an episode of the same old sitcom that you know by rote. 

You yawn over the bask hooked over your elbow. You have your mochi and a few other staples to get you through; eggs, oat milk, and your favourite brand of granola. You rub your forehead as a stitch threatens to imprint itself permanently. Tomorrow you’ll do a proper shop. 

You stop just before the cashier and peruse the discount shelf. Those chocolate-covered gummy worms are deadly. You shouldn’t. 

You reach for the package, eyeing it up, blinking away another yawn. Those will only have you waking up with a sore tummy. 

“You’d be better off with the dark chocolate, or even the peanuts,” someone says. The timbre is dulcet but firm, and strangely familiar. 

You look over at the figure standing around the side of the shelves. You fear you might be hallucinating as you stare at Raymond. He has a square of protein chocolate in hand but sets it back where he got it, making certain it and every other bar is straight. 

“Oh, hi?” You stammer.  

The tea shop is busy and you’re certain you’ve probably crossed paths with at least one customer outside store hours, but never like this. If anything, you both look the other way and carry on. Instead, he’s intent on you, shifting to face you fully as he sets his shoulders, clutching his hands before him. 

“Though I do suppose you’ve already got the ice cream, it hardly matters what else you add to your lot,” he muses. 

You look in your basket then at him. Is he judging you? Mr. Black Tea, plain. You hang the bag back on the hook. As you do, he steps forward and you shuffle back on your heels. He pulls the bag in line with others, rescinding his hand with a flutter of fingers. 

“If you’re in the mind for something sweet, there’s a place near here, it has a sticky toffee pudding more worth the expense,” he suggests. 

You don’t know what to say. You haven’t seen him since he muttered about your apron strings. In the two weeks after, you assumed he might not come back. As particular as he is, you thought you’d gone egregiously over the line. And yet, you’d forgotten about him for all the other bodies passing through the door. 

“Thanks, I’ll look into that,” you say. 

“Mm,” he hums and his eyes flit up and down behind his lenses, “you sound different.” 

“Do I?” You reach to scratch your neck. 

“You look different too.” 

You tilt your head and give a confused grimace, “well, I...” you glance down, “suppose I'm not wearing my apron.” 

“Must be it,” he agrees, “you sound tired.” 

“I guess... yeah,” you take a breath and let it out slowly.  

It’s strange. He’s not a customer here, there is no need to please and yet you feel you must. You poke the tip of your tongue out then hide it behind your lips. 

“Not in a bad way,” he assures you.  

“Right, thanks,” you say in a fracture, “that’s nice, but uh, I... I’m just on my way home.” 

“I know,” he says. 

“...so then I’ll just be--” you point towards the checkout and falter, “what did you say?” 

“Yes, down Trafalgar. I know. It’s late,” he peers over towards the transparent walls along the front of the shop, “these parts aren’t too safe this time of day.” 

“Trafal--“ you begin but can’t finish, “Raymond.” 

He blinks, his expression scarily placid. 

“Details,” he says evenly, “it is best to keep note of them. It is dangerous not to mind them.” He raises a finger, “one might not notice the shadow that walks behind theirs or the window they left open in the kitchen.” 

Your lip trembles as your heart sinks, “have you... have you been following me?” 

“Following... that sounds sinister,” he gives a crooked expression, “no, no, I would consider it... I keep you safe.” 

“Safe. From what, exactly?” 

He narrows his eyes and his lips straighten thoughtfully.  

“Well, from men like me.” 

His words turn your blood to ice. Men like him. What does he mean? 

“I...” you take a step back and he moves with you. You put your hand up to stop him as you still, “Raymond, do not come any closer.” 

“You don’t understand, I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says, “that’s what makes me different. Not like those other men.” 

“I mean it,” you warn him. “If you come any closer, I will make a scene.” 

Your adrenaline courses through you. You’re awake now. The yawns have dissipated and your eyes are wide. 

“Ah, and that’s where I am like the other men,” he shrugs, “it doesn’t matter if I come closer to you right now. Hardly matters. Because I can wait. I have waited. And when I...” he steps towards you and you put the basket between you, his stomach pressing against it, “come closer, you will not even see me coming.” 

You stare at him, horrified. His blue eyes gleam and he reaches to straighten his glasses. He smirks and his brows draw up coyly. He leans in and you lean away. Then suddenly, he backs off and tugs his cuffs straight, then fixes his tie. 

“Don’t forget to close your window,” he says as he spins on his heel, “wouldn’t want some nocturnal creature creeping in.” 

You gape after him as he saunters off. You can’t quiet move as disbelief has you stuck to the spot. It’s all so sudden. So unexpected. How could you ever predict something like this? The uptight man from the tea shop, a stranger really, a face who disappeared for a whole fortnight, and he’s just shaken your entire world into disarray. 

Men like him? You don’t even know who he is. Only his name and how he likes his tea. 

[vale-writes]

when i feel icky i like to project onto whatever poor characters happen to be my hyper fixation at the time. might i recommend a hurt/comfort with our favorite vampire spawn when tav gets burnt out/depressed/dissociates?

i love this request <3 my dissociation has been horrible these past 3 weeks and i hadn't even thought of doing this. thank you!!

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, dissociation, reader is in depressive/dissociative episode, gender neutral reader, post-events of the game, bg3 and astarion spoilers

summary: ever since you defeated the netherbrain and saved baldur's gate from evil, astarion noticed you weren't yourself anymore. he started seeing pieces of himself in your behavior, which terrified him. he decides to ask what's wrong and tries to help you through it <3

Ah, sunrise. The time that Astarion should’ve despised the most, considering it’d kill him, but it was really one of the times of day that he loved the most. Because you were there waiting for him in bed.

He was just coming back from a night of haphazard drinking with Karlach and Wyll. They’d both invited you out, but you’d refused, saying you were too tired from all the work you’d been doing helping Baldur’s Gate rebuild. Astarion had been suspicious of you. You were never one to turn down some partying with friends, but he had tried not to think too much of it.

He quietly crept back in through the front door of your shared house, and a soft smile found its way onto his face when he saw that all the curtains had already been drawn to protect him. You must’ve drawn them before you went to bed, knowing he’d be back by sunrise. It was the little things like that that made his undead heart feel alive, even if just for a moment.

Astarion slowly pulled his boots off, trying not to make any noise. After centuries of slinking about, being silent wasn’t something he really had to try to do. But he always was extra conscious when it came to you. He didn’t want to wake you up or disturb your sleep. You deserved to rest.

He gently opened the door to your room and just stared at you for a bit. There was no light in the room, but his darkvision let him see you just fine, albeit in shades of grey. He changed into some more comfortable clothes for sleep and slid into bed with you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You were sleeping on your side with your back facing him, so he just buried his face in the back of your neck and deeply inhaled your scent. Gods, you were so warm. And soft. And the perfect person to sleep next to.

“I’m home, darling,” he murmured softly into your neck, though he knew you couldn’t hear him in your sleep. He always tried to savor this time. Your schedules never seemed to line up, what with him being nocturnal and you not, but sunrise was the one time you both could really rest together, even if it was only for a few hours.

“I love you,” he said before placing a light kiss on the back of your neck and closing his eyes, holding you tight against him. He let himself relax and fall into his trance, his breathing slowing and muscles relaxing into you.

He woke from his trance about four hours later with you still in his arms asleep. He blinked in confusion. By now, you should be out of bed and out of the house. He was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. Maybe you’d decided to take the day off to rest. He couldn’t complain about that. He simply nuzzled his face into your neck again and decided to just wait for you to wake up. You always looked so peaceful when you slept. He could stare at you for hours, just drinking in the sight of you.

He sat up and took out a new book he’d been reading. He wasn’t just going to sit around the house doing nothing when the sun was out. He ran a hand through your hair while he read; half because he knew you liked it, and half because he was a selfish bastard who kind of wanted you to wake up already so he could tell you about all the stupid shit he’d gotten into last night. You slowly stirred from your sleep at his touch, turning to look up at him. You lazily draped an arm over his blanket-covered legs.

“G’morning, ‘Starion,” you said groggily.

“Good morning, darling. You’re up late. Did you plan on taking the day off?” He continued running his hand through your hair and set his book down by his side.

“..What? What time is it?” You frowned in confusion.

“It’s already almost midday. Are you okay? You don’t usually oversleep. Well, this much, anyway.”

“..Midday..? Godsdamnit I’m so late,” you grumbled as you laid face first on your pillow. “Might as well just stay home at this point.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re not answering my question, darling.”

“What was the question?” you asked, your voice muffled by the pillow.

“Look, darling, as much as I love having your face in the pillow when we’re in bed, I need you to turn over so I can actually hear you.” He grinned at his own dirty joke and waited to hear your giggle back.

But he got nothing.

“..Are you hungover or something?” he scoffed. “You know, we invited you out last night. Did you go off partying with some other group of dashing bastards? You can tell me. I’ll pretend to not be offended.”

Again, nothing. He tried to hide the growing panic in his voice.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked quietly, as if it couldn’t be true if he didn’t say it loud enough. “Did I do something?” He took his hand out of your hair and placed it on his lap. His eyes raked over you, trying to see if there was anything physically wrong with you. You were eerily still. Still breathing, but you weren’t moving at all, even though it couldn’t have been comfortable with your face in the pillow like that.

“No. ‘Starion.” Your voice sounded.. pained. Like every word was taking the life out of you to say. He reached over and picked your limp body up to turn you over onto your back. Your eyes were glazed over and half-lidded. If he couldn’t feel you breathing in that moment, he was sure he would’ve thought you died. He moved some of your hair out of your face as some was stuck to your mouth.

Astarion leaned over you, scanning your face to see what could possibly be wrong with you.

“Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?” He hadn’t noticed any signs of someone breaking in and he didn’t smell your blood anywhere in the house. What in the Hells was wrong with you?

“‘M fuzzy..” Was all you said.

“You’re.. fuzzy..?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “What do you mean you’re-“

And then it clicked. He’d seen you like this once before. It was after you’d been imprisoned and chained up by that goblin priestess, Gut. You’d stumbled out of there in a daze, covered in blood but silent. Once you’d all gone back to camp, you just stayed in your tent for hours. Karlach had gone to check on you, but all she came back to tell the group was that you had been laying there silently. The only thing you’d said was that you were “fuzzy.” Gods, it was so long ago that he’d almost forgotten.

He stared into your eyes. Eyes that were looking, but not seeing. He saw himself laying there. In your eyes, he saw the same faraway look he made himself have every night when he was still enslaved by Cazador. It made him have a horrible nauseous feeling in his stomach. What could have possibly made you feel this awful?

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?”

You simply blinked at him. He tried to mask the anxiety on his face and hurried to pour you a cup of water. He came back into the room with your favorite cup in hand and set it on the nightstand next to you.

“Do you think you ca-“ He looked down at you and saw there were tears falling from your eyes. They fell down your temples and onto the pillow under you, but your expression hadn’t changed since he left. He gently wiped the tears from your eyes as if you were a delicate piece of glass. As if you could break.

Your mind was completely empty but unfathomably full at the same time. You wanted to tell Astarion what was wrong. That you never had time to process everything that happened in your adventure. That the faces of the people you killed or couldn’t save were always in your mind. That the wounds you’d taken always felt like they were still there, no matter how many times Shadowheart had healed you. It was too much.

But whenever you tried to tell him what happened, the thoughts drifted away from you. Your tongue felt heavy. It was better to just give in to the gnawing emptiness. To let it consume you. To let it drown you.

Astarion took your hand in his and gently rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand. The chill of his skin against yours brought you up for air for a moment.

“..cold,” you fought through the heaviness of your own tongue, trying to tell him that the cold was helping. He pulled his hand away from you immediately.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I thought it might-“ He looked down and saw that you had gripped his hand into yours before he could pull away, his cold hand now spreading its chill through your own. He frowned in confusion. “What..?”

You flicked your chin up to motion him closer. Every movement felt like dragging a thousand pounds behind you, but his touch lightened the load just a bit. He tentatively brought his face closer to yours, now about a foot away. You flicked your chin again, then pushed your head down so your forehead was closer to him.

His eyes flickered in understanding once you did this. He laid a gentle, cool kiss to your forehead before resting his forehead on yours.

“Is this helping? Me being cold?” he murmured, his nose brushing against yours as he spoke. You simply closed your eyes and took your first deep breath of the day. Gods, were you lucky your partner was undead.

“Mm,” you grunted in response. He took his free hand and wrapped it around the back of your neck to hold you closer. He picked you up to help you sit up against the headboard of the bed, then straddled you to sit in your lap. He wrapped his arms around you, trading his undead ice for your living warmth.

It shocked your brain out of its spiral, finally letting you fully see Astarion. Your hands moved to his waist and you kissed his nose, earning a surprised noise from him. He pulled away to look at you again, his red eyes drinking in every inch of your face, as if he was trying to memorize every line and shape in it.

“What happened, love? Did someone hurt you? Did you eat or drink something odd? Gods, if anyone did anything to you, they’ll have to deal wi-“

“Astarion-“ you tried to cut him off before he could begin his “I’ll murder anyone,” rant.

He scowled. “No, I’m serious. Who did this to you? Where do they live? You know I’ve got plenty of experience killing. Nobody would know-“

“Astarion.” His face softened and he looked at you again. You gently tucked a stray curl back behind his ear. “Nobody hurt me. I just- life has been a lot, recently. I’ve been so busy helping everyone rebuild and I never had time to just.. rest, and recover from what happened to me. To us.”

“You fucking hero,” he rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Can you be selfish for just one second? Fuck them all. Are you saying spending the entire day shoveling bricks out of the street and listening to people cry for hours is more important than laying here with-“

You shot him a warning look. He rolled his head back and dramatically groaned in frustration.

“Why didn’t you tell me before this happened?” He rested one of his hands on your chest, toying with a stray thread coming out of your shirt. He’d have to fix that later.

“I didn’t want to worry you, ‘Starion. I thought I could handle it,” you mumbled and looked away from him, ashamed by your weakness. You couldn’t deal with a little zoning out and feeling sad every now and then? Really?

He took his other hand and pushed your face back to face him. When you saw him again, his eyes were narrowed and darkened at you. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You squirmed under him, confused by the sudden firmness in his voice.

“Don’t say you didn’t want to worry me. That’s what led to.. this, which made me infinitely more worried than if you had just told me sooner.” He took a deep breath. He was trying to practice that whole “vulnerability” thing. “It scared me, seeing you like that,” he murmured. “At first, it was because I didn’t know what was wrong. And then it got worse when I did realize what was wrong. I don’t- I don’t want to see you like that. Like me, before.. all of this.”

Your heart felt full, but also dropped at the same time somehow. Gods, he really did care about you. In your efforts to try to shield him from what was happening, you ended up hurting him anyways. You took his hand on your face and kissed it softly before resting your face on his chest, tightly wrapping your arms around him.

“I’ll take that as an apology. You know, I’d prefer a bouquet and a new perfume—maybe a new pair of shoes as well—but I suppose this will do,” he sighed, trying to sound annoyed. You could hear the smile in his voice, though, even if he tried to hide it while you drank in his scent in his chest.

“Now, lay down again. You’re staying right next to me until I say you can leave. I never thought I’d say this, but I do miss our little camps, if only for the fire I could sleep by every night.” He pulled himself off of you and got back under the covers, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in as well. He was startlingly strong for a.. petite elf, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. He spooned you, leaving kisses along your neck while holding you tightly against himself. Your heat spread through his chest and stomach, making him release a content sigh.

"You'll be my fire, won't you? All you have to do is stay here and rest with me, darling. Let me take care of you."

Yeah, the city could go without you for a few days. You had more important things to do now.

[hannieween]

bad idea | backstage series | l.sm

It was all an act. A mantra you repeated to yourself since the moment you first kissed. You'd made a pact with Seokmin to remain friends. Yet even when his touch seemed like wildfire, you clung to the fragile threads of that promise, as you felt yourself melting at the touch of his lips.

♡︎ pairings: lee seokmin x afab!reader ♡︎ genre: angst, smut mdni you'll get blocked ♡︎ aus: theatre performer seokmin,fake dating with benefits ♡︎ word count: 10.8k

↣ part 1 – part 2 – navi post

₊🎧: i.m - more ♡︎ | kiss of fire - woodz

₊ nsfw tags under the cut

♡︎ warnings: multiple mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, smut with plot, pet names: baby, noodle (hers), soft dom seokmin, big dick seokmin, multiple unprotected sex scenes, unprotected sex in public spaces (1), doggystyle, creampie, oral sex (f, m), soft-edging, a bit of praise kink (f) drama | i wrote this at 3am so sorry if there's any mistakes weird time jumps in narration again sorry

part 3

The pain in your chest was almost unbearable.

You found support with your hands on your knees, breathing hard under the scorching bright midday sunlight.

"I'm calling it," Seungkwan announced, he was pretending to look for your pulse with two fingers under your jaw. "She's dead. Or will be. Soon. I give her twenty two seconds."

"Shut up, Kwan," you laughed brushing his hand away. "I'm just out of practice, okay?"

"Well, no shit, dummy," he laughed. "You've been spending too much time with your boyfriend now, you barely have time for volley."

His white sneakers came into your view, so bright under the sunlight that almost blinded you. Seungkwan patted you in the back twice, and walked off.

"Yeah, that and the fact that we've been going for hours," you stood upright. "Can we go? I really need to eat something otherwise I'll truly die."

He scoffed and brushed sweat from his brow with a towel. "Fine. But you're buying."

"What? Why me?" you whined, still breathless. "It's your turn!"

He turned to the bleachers to grab his stuff, and you followed. "Consider it as pay up for standing me up last tuesday."

"I've told you already that I'm sorry for that!" you whine again when you grab your duffel bag and follow him away from the volleyball court.

"Buy me coffee and I'll think about it."

Seungkwan wasn't angry at you. You knew that. He just liked playing with your head because he knew you still felt guilty for standing him up.

So you bought him iced coffee and a bowl of yogurt parfait.

"Now, you're trying to get under my good graces again," he said feigning dignity, lifting his chin up and eyeing you up and down.

"Well, I truly am sorry for standing you up," you said as you dug into your bowl. "I know I should've texted. I was... busy."

Your best friend saw your cheeks flush. "Oh, keep the details to yourself, please," he said, threatening to throw his plastic spoon at you. "I don't wanna know what you two were doing."

Last tuesday you woke up to find your friend, Seokmin, lying in bed next to you.

He was lying face down, his muscly arms around his head and hugging the pillow his face was half buried in, your lavender bed sheets covered him up to his lower back, leaving his bare back to your view.

On his back were pink scratch marks that you had made on him the night before. Then you understood the fixation he had for the hickeys he gave you on your neck.

You resisted the urge to touch him. To use your fingertips to connect lines between his moles and freckles of his face. Even asleep, he looked beautiful.

Silently, you grabbed the first piece of clothing from the floor and left your bedroom in search for your phone. The scent of Seokmin's plaid shirt coated you when you put in on closing a few buttons.

As you made your way out the bedroom, you noticed your muscles blissfully sore and tired from the day before. So in your search, you took the opportunity to drink water and take something for the pain.

Your jeans were tossed on one side of your couch, and right there you found your phone just a few minutes before your first alarm went off at 7 am.

An hour later, you had prepared breakfast and coffee when Seokmin emerged from your room, wearing his jeans and putting his white tank top on. His face and hair were slightly wet, which you assumed he had washed himself before joining you in the kitchen.

"Morning," you chirped.

You saw him glance your body up and down, noticing you were wearing his grey plaid shirt.

"G'morning," he pressed his lips in a smile.

"Are you hungry?" you asked with a shaky voice because for some reason you felt nervous under his gaze.

"Famished," he muttered.

You pushed a plate full of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon onto the counter of your tiny kitchen, which had two stools that already came with the lease for your otherwise mostly empty apartment.

Seokmin eyed you, a sweet smile on his lips. "I feel spoiled," he quipped and sat on a stool. "How can I repay you?"

"It's just breakfast. Chill," you laughed and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Still," he said while munching on his toast. "The next one's on me."

"What, you'll cook for me?" you asked, incredulous.

"Of course not," he chuckled. "I'll take you somewhere you won't die from food poisoning."

When you saw his sweet smile, a sharp pain tugged in your stomach. He was so cute that it gave you the same feeling you felt whenever you saw a squishy so cute you wanted to squeeze it.

You realized that you too had a smile on your face while you ate breakfast with him.

When Seokmin helped you clean the kitchen, he sang while doing so. It was usual for him, whenever he had a new role he did that, he would just break into song loudly and perfectly. He was known for doing that and it turned into a bit when you were in uni. The menace walking in the halls before class, singing loudly at 8 in the morning.

But you liked it. You've always liked it even when he only sang the same lyrics over and over again every five minutes. Each time was better than the one before it.

Now as he had to rehearse the songs for his role, he sang them from start to finish while you finished doing the dishes. Like your personal little show.

His voice was warm, it was like sunshine warming your chest after a cold cloudy morning.

He was sitting on a stool, scrolling through his phone while still humming some tune. You had finished doing the dishes already and he noticed, lifting his head to see you.

You had been quiet for a while, and it wasn't just because you were listening to him.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked.

You approached where he was sitting and leaned on the kitchen counter next to him. You chewed the inside of your cheek, deciding where to begin.

"I uh... never thanked you for what you did when my ex was talking to me," you breathed. "I didn't know how to get out of that situation and you helped me. Thank you for that."

He blinked and put his phone down. "You don't have to thank me for that," his brow furrowed a bit. "Even if I wasn't your fake boyfriend, I would have done it."

"Well, I felt like saying thanks because it meant a lot to me," you mumbled, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt that fit you a bit too large.

"You never told me what he said to you," he reminded you.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "He says he's happy that I moved on. And that he wants to put everything behind us," you chewed on the inside of your lip. "He never once said he was sorry, though."

"Does an apology from him mean anything to you?" Seokmin mused, "I mean, given all the shit he has said and done to you."

"It doesn't," you put in simply. "It doesn't mean anything to me anymore. But I'm still angry that I didn't have the guts to tell him that."

Seokmin's eyes darkened. "It's not worth it," he muttered. "I don't think he deserves your forgiveness."

That made you smile. "That's a bit extreme."

"I mean it. He's an asshole. He broke your heart," if he didn't look serious before, he did now.

Your lips quivered a little bit when you tried to hold your laugh in.

"Don't laugh," he muttered with pouting lips.

"You're cute when you're angry," you laughed.

"I'm not angry," he countered, still pouting his lips but then he broke into a smile.

"Bullshit, Lee Seokmin," you smiled, landing a soft slap on his shoulder.

"Shut up," he muttered and grabbed your hand with his as it landed on his skin.

Then he yanked your hand towards his body, pulling you between his legs as he was still sitting on the stool, now you were face to face, the counter digging at your back.

"You're such a tease, do you know that?" he muttered with a playful smile, before capturing your lips with his.

Hands gripped your hips and after squeezing once he decided that it wasn't enough so he dipped them under his plaid shirt, finding your bare skin with a groan.

"I like how you look with my stuff on," he growled before crushing his mouth on yours again, tongues lapping and sinking his teeth on your lips.

Then he stood up from the stool, pushing it back as his hands on your hips lifted you up and took you to the bedroom. You let out a yelp when your back hit your bed, but as soon as his lips found yours again you immediately wrapped your legs around him.

His left hand made his way to the base of your head, grabbing your hair to pull your head back. A moan left your lips as he dipped his head to kiss your sensitive neck, he had made hickeys there so he was now kissing them softly.

The other hand was placed on your hip, under his shirt. He traced circles on your skin softly, sending shivers down your body.

"Seokmin," you gasped when his tongue slid on the crook of your neck.

"Mmm?" he hummed in your ear. "Want me to stop?"

The question wasn't genuine. It sounded gentle on his voice, but you knew he was taunting you. You muttered some incoherencies under your breath, you didn't even know why you called his name but sure as hell you didn't want him to stop.

"Mm? I didn't catch that," he muttered.

"Do that again, please," you whimpered.

A sigh brushed your collarbones and you could tell he was smiling when he found the sensitive spot on your neck again and planted a wet kiss on it before lapping your already tingling skin with his tongue.

That drew a moan out your mouth. And suddenly you were too conscious of all the noise you've been making.

But Seokmin's fingers pulled the shirt you were wearing up to reveal the lower half of your body. He kissed you sweetly on your sternum, all the way down to the band of your panties.

You noticed that he ignored your chest area, but didn't think too much about it. Two of his fingers came down to your clothed pussy, feeling that the fabric of your underwear was already wet in your arousal.

You jolted at the touch, even if he wasn't really touching you. "Seokmin, please. Stop teasing me."

He deposited one chaste kiss on your mouth. "We're going to have to make this quick," he said quickly. "I don't have much time."

Then he broke away and stood from the bed, your legs falling on the mattress as you watched him take off his tank top and jeans. You followed suit and begun to undo the buttons of his plaid shirt.

He patted one of your hands with his. "Stop that," he muttered. Then he removed your panties and tossed them away.

You watched as he knelt down before your bed. He was just wearing his underwear, his cock so hard that it was pressing against the dark fabric. Seeing him kneeling after you on your bedroom floor did something to you, it made you salivate, widen your eyes, it made your core throb with anticipation.

And before you knew what was coming, he yanked you down on your bedsheets grabbing you by your legs. So now your ass was by the border of the mattress, and he was between your thighs.

"Put your legs on my shoulders," he muttered softly.

When you did so, he ran a finger down your core, and now you held in a breath. "You have the prettiest pussy. Have I told you that?"

You felt your cheeks flush, not knowing what to answer really.

But he was wasting no time. Rolling up the shirt to your belly button, he placed his hands on your lower belly, pressing down gently at the same time he dipped his head down on your core.

Soon you forgot about not being loud. You rolled your eyes and arched your back, moaning loudly.

Starting by lapping on your folds, Seokmin moved his head up and down to lick you fully. The tip of his tongue traced a circle around your clit, before sucking on it. And as if testing what made you scream louder, he also pressed his tongue flatly on your clit and moved his head.

You felt your legs tense up, and grabbed onto the sheets of the bed, trying to wriggle your hips against his face desperately but the hands on your belly pressed down with more strength restrained you completely.

He repeated the same process, licking, sucking and teasing your clit. To whatever he did, you wouldn't stop moaning his name, pleading for him to not stop.

Until you realized that he was edging you. Whenever you felt closer to your release, he'd notice it and change to either just licking your folds, or sucking your clit, or tracing circles around it.

"Seokmin," you breathed. "Let me cum, please."

He just hummed in response, as if he were pondering on it while he continued teasing your cunt. His tongue came up to your clit, and as he did, his eyes landed on your face.

A groan came out through your gritted teeth and you arched your back, closing your eyes tightly. The tension in your core was almost unbearable.

"Seokmin," your fingers tangled in his soft copper hair. "Please. Just let me-ugghh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck."

He continued sucking on your clit, without changing in pace or movement, he sucked while moving his head up and down ever so slightly over and over, sending you over the edge.

Your orgasm hit you, hard. You felt your body tremble as it took you in erratic waves. It left you breathless and you had closed your eyes so tightly that when you opened them again, you had to blink a few times to regain focus.

Small kisses landed on your mound, and then made their way back to your belly. You felt exhausted, but still pulled him into a sloppy wet kiss when he climbed back on the bed. He motioned you to move back to the centre of the bed and as you did, he planted wet kisses on your face.

A chuckle was muffled by your mouth when your fingers tugged clumsily at the band of his underwear. He took them off and climbed back, his body hovering closely on top of you.

"Should I take the shirt off?" you asked, feeling that it was weird that he hadn't taken off of you yet.

"Leave it on," he muttered at the same time he leaned down and placed one elbow next to your head.

"Why?" your brow furrowed.

Your head was within his hand's reach, so he dug his fingers in your hair and placed a kiss on your chin.

"I want to fuck you in it."

You didn't think about it further. You knew it might be a possessive thing. But just as you liked the scratch marks on his back and the hickeys you had on your neck, you liked the idea of him fucking you wearing his shirt.

"Is that okay?" he asked in a soft tone.

"Yeah," your brow furrowed. "I'm okay with everything you give me."

A satisfied smile appeared on his face. It shocked you a little that you even find it arousing to see him smile while having sex.

"You'll let me do anything to you?" he muttered, capturing your lips with his briefly.

"Anything," you nodded eagerly. You grabbed his cock with one hand and guided it to your core. Earning another soft chuckle from him. You thought he'd chastise you again about being impatient but he didn't say anything about it.

He didn't warn you this time, his cock was already aligned with your core so he just started sinking in. You pushed your knees back, lifting your feet from the mattress and thus angling your hips for him. He groaned and dropped his head on the crook of your neck.

Your hands held onto his naked shoulders as his hips dipped in a few shallow thrusts and you stopped biting your lip when he was fully inside you.

"God," you whimpered. "So fucking big."

He had a light smile on his lips when he found your lips to give you a few tentative kisses. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed and pointed a finger at him. "Just don't edge me this time."

He started thrusting on you without any warning again. "Don't be a tease, then," he placed a chaste kiss on your lower lip. "Can you do that?"

His thrusts landed so deep inside you that you let out a cry. "Yes," you replied without much thinking.

"Yes, what?" he muttered while grazing his teeth across your chin.

"I won't be a tease," you said as you let out a strangled moan when his thrusts became more unrestrained, slamming on you.

"Good girl," he whispered before his lips slid in yours.

The room flooded with the sounds of skin slapping together along with your loud moans that slowly would turn into gasps.

Seokmin watched you intently. There was something in his eyes, you couldn't quite tell what it was. But you thought that he was tense and you concluded that he was probably trying to get this done quickly.

You moved your hands to cup his face. The sleeves of his shirt were so long that covered your arms up to your knuckles. You pulled him into a hot kiss of teeth clashing and groans from both you and him.

"God," you sighed when you pulled your head back to the bed, feeling your body sink into a wave of pleasure.

Seokmin dropped his head next to yours, his face burying in your hair lying in the crook of your neck. You could hear his strangled low moans in your ear.

"You feel so good, baby," he muttered with a tense voice.

You nibbled at the soft skin of his shoulder, caressing his back over the scratch marks you'd left the previous night. Seokmin was breathing harder on your neck, and you were tempted to tell him to just let go. But then he pulled out, his hips retracting from your fully.

A shiver ran down your spine at the loss of warmth and him inside you. But you didn't move, didn't touch him. With a groan, he visibly shuddered and waited for a few seconds.

Before you could say something, he lifted his head from the crook of your neck, and deposited open mouthed kisses on your lips. "Turn around, baby," he muttered in a strangled voice.

Seokmin sat back on his heels and when you did as he asked, he grabbed your hips with his hands, propping you up on your elbows and knees on the bed. You squealed at the roughness with which he grabbed you, but you didn't complain. You liked it.

Feeling his hands move from your hips to your lower back made you angle yourself in anticipation. Moving the fabric of his shirt up, he pressed a hand gently on your back before he eased himself in. You moaned loudly at the feeling of having him deeper in you and you heard him hiss.

His hands moved from your back and he placed them on the bed, soon you felt his back on yours as he pounded his hips against your backside hard enough you knew it would leave bruises. You heard his breath hitched next to your ear and then he groaned.

"Seokmin," you whined and shut your eyes tightly, trying to savour the feeling of him being inside you as much as you could.

Seokmin was panting behind you between the small kisses he left on the back of your neck. "Cum for me, baby," he whispered.

You slid a hand between your thighs, your fingers rubbing your clit to reach your release faster. Suddenly you let your face bury on the pillow, thus angling your hips towards him even more, which earned a groan from him. It only took a couple of thrusts from him to achieve what he asked.

The pillow muffled the loud sounds that were coming out of your mouth, and your hand grabbed at the corners of it while the other rubbed your clit sloppily.

The orgasm shook your body so hard, it had you squirming and grabbing at the sheets until you were reduced to strangled sounds and panting.

"Fuck," he groaned behind you and hearing his voice so taut in pleasure made your body respond with a shiver.

Then his hands were on your hips again, his thrusts became shallow and fast as he rolled the shirt up your back uncovering it completely and before you knew it, he pulled out. A soft groan resounded behind you when warm cum landed on your ass and lower back.

You felt your skin prickle at the sensation of his cum on your back. But you waited, trying not to move but your limbs were shaking, breathing loudly against your pillow.

"Don't move. I'm going to get something to clean you up," Seokmin said climbing off the bed.

Soon he was returning to clean your back. "Done," he muttered and patted you in the ass lightly, making you yelp in surprise.

Slowly, you let your body drop on the bed sheets, limbs shaking badly, panting loud enough to make you feel embarrassed. You rolled over and thought for a moment that Seokmin would lie next to you to catch his breath with you.

But he just leaned towards you to kiss your forehead, your cheek and then your lips. "You're always so good to me, baby," he muttered.

A warm feeling overwhelmed you. Your skin was bumpy from a mix of the frenzy and from Seokmin's warm compliment.

"I thought you were going to be quick," your voice was hoarse when you spoke again as he made his way out of your bedroom.

"Are you complaining?" he called back, and you could imagine he was smiling.

"No," you mumbled, but he was out of earshot.

You heard the shower running and you groaned.

"Come on. Let's get cleaned up," you heard him say and before you could move, he was taking you in his arms.

"Oh my god," you whined. "I can get there on my own."

You opened your eyes to see him smiling. "Let me take care of you," he mumbled as he set you down on the bathroom floor. "Arms up."

His shirt came off your body easily. And then you were standing under the stream of water.

"Was that okay? Was I too hard?" he asked as soon as he joined you in the shower.

"I'm fine. I like it," you hummed.

"Like what?" he cocked his head to the side.

"When you're a bit rough with me," you muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He pressed his lips in a smile, showing his small dimple under the side of his mouth. "I know. I heard. Pretty sure your neighbours heard, too."

A hand landed on his chest, hitting him softly. "Shut up, Seokmin," you laughed.

"I like that you're loud," he shrugged.

"I know," you quipped. "I also noticed."

Grinning, he rolled his eyes and continued washing his body. He was lifting his arms up to wash his hair, and you saw him as the water ran down on his face with his eyes closed, his mouth parted a bit when he tilted his head back towards the stream of water.

The sunlight that came from the small window up in the bathroom clashed with the stream of water, thus painting a rainbow between Seokmin and you.

Your stomach twisted a bit.

When you returned to your bedroom, Seokmin was already half dressed. A travel toothbrush which he kept on his backpack he took for rehearsals, was hanging on his mouth.

He raised a hand at you and you threw his plaid shirt at him, which he caught gracefully and quickly put on. Then he went back to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

"You should bring some of your clothes," you suggested when he came back to your bedroom.

Seokmin lifted his head to see you, then averted his gaze with a furrowed brow. "Uh..."

"If you want, I mean," you shrugged. "I don't mind. Plus, it could save you the effort for next time, y'know?"

"Sure, I'll keep it in mind," he replied, but there was something in his tone that wasn't really convincing. You decided not to push it.

He took his things from the nightstand and walked up to you.

"Sorry, I have to go. I'm already late."

You were about to reply to him that you were okay with his abrupt leave, but then he planted a kiss goodbye on your mouth. It was so quick that it made you stutter, and you almost assumed that Seokmin didn't initially mean to do that when you saw his alarmed eyes and quickly left your room.

It was fast, but it showed a lot of intimacy to you. Seokmin didn't normally kiss you outside sex. He only did it whenever you acted like a fake couple.

"Bye," you mumbled, but the door of your apartment was already slamming shut.

You sat on the edge of your bed, absentmindedly touching your lips with your fingers when your phone buzzed. In the back of your mind, you thought that you might have earned a noise complaint from your neighbours.

But looking at the screen, you groaned.

It was a text message from Seungkwan, you had stood him up.

A noise complaint would've been better.

"Are you there?" Seungkwan asked, pulling you out of your train of thought.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?" you mumbled. Seungkwan had already finished eating his food. You were barely halfway through.

"I said," he was looking at something at his phone screen. "Are you going to be at Minghao's dinner party this saturday?"

"Yes, I think I can make it," you replied. "Maybe I can ask Jae to cover me."

He shook his head. "He's already covering me."

"Umm, I'll ask around, but I'll be there."

"Good. Now, can we go?" he set his phone down and looked at you. "We're going to be late for our shift. And you take forever to finish your food."

"Okay, okay, let's go. But we're even, right?"

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but break into a smile.

The hickeys on your neck had all healed. You had been concealing them, either with makeup or by wearing turtlenecks and scarves. Given the demands of your profession, where you had to protect your vocal cords by keeping your chest covered, nobody really asked about the extra coverage.

But as you looked in the mirror, you didn't find any trace Seokmin's lips on your skin anymore. You decided to wear a black dress to Minghao's dinner party. According to the invitation details, he wanted everyone to wear something fancy.

So that's what you did. You thought the dress was on par with the intent of the night, and you imagined that it was something Minghao would approve.

It was semi long, it didn't show too much but it flattered your body in the best way possible. You paired it jewellery and red details on your makeup.

The style of the dress left her neckline and collar bones exposed, so you felt a little relieved that you didn't have to cover hickeys for tonight. It saved you some time.

It has been over a week since you last saw Seokmin. You two were busy anyway so you didn't think much of it. But you missed him. You found yourself anticipating the next time you saw each other.

In addition to the excitement, you were surprisingly in a good mood. You even noticed some positive changes in your daily routine; you started exercising more regularly and reconnecting with friends you had drifted away from during the toughest days after your breakup.

You even purchased a few pieces of furniture for your apartment to give it a cosier, more lived-in feel that truly reflected that you enjoyed living there alone. Because, truthfully, you did.

A buzz came from your bedroom, and you went to investigate that your phone had a few new messages from Seokmin.

[06:12 PM] seokminnie: noddle [06:12 PM] seokminnie: i'm picking you up at 7 [06:12 PM] seokminnie: for hao's party [06:12 PM] seokminnie: be ready :)

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname he used for you. Noodle. He was the only one who still called you that since university. Over time, you had developed a love-hate relationship with the nickname, but hearing it from him, you couldn't bring yourself to complain anymore.

[06:13 PM] you: okidoki :) [06:13 PM] seokminnie: okidoki? [06:13 PM] seokminnie: god you're such a dork [06:13 PM] you: shut up you like me either way :P

That was the end of your conversation so far.

You were already bubbling with anticipation to meet him once more. You were eager to show him the new additions you'd made to your apartment and to share the news that you were in the final auditions for another play.

While there wasn't any official confirmation about the role yet, you felt optimistic. You were putting your best effort into it, and for the first time, you felt that even if you didn't secure it, you would be okay. After all, you had your sights set on other projects too.

There was a knock on your door and since you were sitting in the kitchen, you ran to get it in two seconds.

Seokmin was standing there. Your eyes absorbed everything about him. His copper hair was parted slightly, his bangs brushing his eyebrows a little. He looked between laid back and still fitting for the night; black jeans, white shirt and a denim jacket.

"Hiii," you chanted.

He blinked, a grin appearing on his lips. "Hi there," he muttered.

Your stomach twisted a bit and before anything else was said you moved aside to let him in.

"Just let me get my bag and we can go," you grabbed your phone and your bag from the kitchen counter.

"Aren't you forgetting your shoes, noodle?" you hear him call.

"Oh, yes!" you laughed.

You had your shoes ready by the entrance of your apartment, and while putting them on, Seokmin held out a hand for you for you to remain on your feet.

"Thanks," you smiled at him.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," you breathed, somehow feeling agitated.

"Let's go," he smiled sweetly again and for a moment you fought the impulse of pulling him to your lips.

"Okidoki," you said promptly and followed him out your apartment and locked the door.

"Dork," he laughed.

You chuckled and when you both stepped into the elevator, you felt your mouth go dry. Suddenly you felt nervous to be in such an enclosed space with him.

But he was looking at his phone distractively.

The ride there was... odd. Not what you had expected entirely. He didn't say much and was too busy looking at his phone so you decided you didn't want to pry.

When you got there you saw some familiar faces outside the fancy restaurant. The guests were gathering outside the door, queueing to get their names and id's checked before entry.

Everyone looked elegant. When you saw some girls dressed in the same manner and style you were wearing you felt relieved, since you were doubting on being too much or not quite so.

You turned to Seokmin, who was just putting his phone on the pocket of his jeans and when he lifted his head to see you, he smiled softly. He caught up with you and as he did so, your hands touched for a moment.

You thought it was natural to just grab his hand, locking your fingers in his.

"Sorry. I was fixing an appointment for the costume fitting," he muttered, looking at the ground.

"For a moment there I thought you might be fake cheating on me," you smiled, but as soon as you blurted out the words, your heart dropped. Too far.

"You think I'd do something so horrible?" he asked dramatically, putting his free hand on his chest.

You smiled in relief. "Well, we haven't really talked about it. I don't know, you might want to start seeing someone for real," you shrugged.

His brow furrowed. "What if I don't?" he mused. "What if I enjoy being your fake boyfriend?"

"Then you're in luck because I enjoy you as my fake boyfriend too. It's fun," you smiled up at him.

You expected to see him smile, but instead he looked deep in thought.

As you joined the queue, the grip on your hand tightened gently. And you knew why. Your ex was in the queue, with a new girl wrapped in his arm. This girl you had never seen before, it wasn't the same girl he cheated on you with.

Your ex's eyes went through the crowd and your eyes met.

Seokmin was behind you, so he let go of your hand but his arms were encircling you from behind. A soft kiss landed on your temple and you shivered at the feeling of him so close to you.

"Are you okay?" he asked on your ear.

You turned your head to see him and your hands rested on top of his. "I'm okay," you reassured him with a smile.

The proximity had startled you for a second, but you enjoyed this. His warmth, the scent of his clothes and skin.

His sweet brown eyes searched your face. "You look beautiful," he mumbled.

Not knowing what to reply, you lifted a hand to cup his cheek and reached for his lips. The kiss was tender, so slow that you felt him sigh on your lips, a shiver went down your spine.

It was all an act. A mantra you repeated to yourself since the moment you first kissed. You'd made a pact with Seokmin to remain friends. Yet even when his touch seemed like wildfire, you clung to the fragile threads of that promise, as you felt yourself melting at the touch of his lips.

"Ugh, come on! Get a move on, you lovebirds," an annoyed voice protested behind you.

It was Soonyoung. When you turned around you saw him beaming at you, he lifted a hand in the air and waved frantically at you. You smiled and waved back in the same manner.

"Come on, we're next," Seokmin stopped hugging you and pulled your hand in his again.

The table you were taken to was located in a secluded room within the fancy restaurant. You knew that Minghao had sold a few paintings to this restaurant the moment you were shown inside.

The place was dimly lit in soft orange hues and the tables were adorned with a trailed of roses and candles. In the room there was a wall fountain in the room, the water running continuously made a soft background noise paired with the live jazz show.

You strolled to the side of the room where Minghao was greeting his guests with a shy smile on his face. When he saw you he pulled you into a hug.

"Birthday boy," you chanted into the hug.

"I'm glad you're here," he said at the same time he patted you in your head.

"I brought you something," you said and unfasten your tiny purse.

You heard him giggle shyly. "You shouldn't have," he muttered but at the same time he was bouncing on his heels in anticipation.

His giggles became more bubbly when you pulled a black box the size of the palm of your hand and handed it to him. His eyes beamed at you and back to the box.

"What's this?" his lithe careful fingers took it from your hand and he looked up to find your eyes. "Can I open it now?"

"Course," you shrugged with an excited smile. "It's your birthday."

"Hehe," he chuckled in a tiny voice and opened the box to find a super tiny tea set.

You watched Minghao's mouth part a little and slowly turn into a child-like smile. His fingertips brushed over the tiny blue and white cups and teapot.

"I love it," he giggled again, "thank you."

Then he tucked you into a hug again and you returned the hug.

"I loved it so much that it makes me want to forgive you for fucking in my dressing room," he mentioned with a laugh.

Your cheeks flushed and he was patting your head and shuffling your hair teasingly.

"Y-you know? How?" your voice was high now.

He look straight in your eyes with a devilish smile. "Nothing gets passed me."

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry," you groaned covering your face with your hands. But your friend was laughing cheekily.

Minghao had carefully assigned seats for everyone to get to know each other. You were assigned a seat next to Soonyoung; which didn't make sense to you until Jeonghan took the seat to your left. You didn't know each other well, besides from casual meetings for work.

Jeonghan was a sweet guy. He was mostly quiet but soft spoken at first, but he was eager to get to know you and he told you just that.

"Ah, it's so good to finally get to know you," he said when he had drank more and started to loosen up a bit. "You know how hard it is to get to talk to you?"

"What do you mean?" you laughed, feeling that Jeonghan was doing a bit.

"You're the stellar this season and I don't even know you," he chuckled as he spoke. "That bothers me. I want to meet everyone in the company."

"Why is that?" you frowned. It was weird that a director wanted to get to know everyone. Everyone you had worked with before Jeonghan could do with a first name basis with the cast and crew. Some not even that.

"I like to think of the company like a big family," he shrugged as he sat back. "I know that it might not be practical but who knows really. So far it's working for me."

"Do you act too or you're just in the management?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, no. Not at all," he chuckled again. "I'm just interested in management and production. The acting part, props, staff, lighting and such is totally yours. I just revise projects, budget, plan and put the money."

"That sounds... like a lot of work," you looked up at him.

His short black hair covered half of his forehead. He looked a little bit tipsy, his heavy lidded eyes were turning lazier as you spoke, but he raised a soft smile.

"I enjoy it," he nodded with a grin. "And I get to make great friends, so best job ever."

Jeonghan excused himself and left the seat momentarily, thus leaving you without your new partner for the dinner.

You looked at the people sitting at the table. There were at least eighteen people sitting there. Most you knew and a few you didn't at all. Seokmin was sitting just across you, next to two actresses you knew.

He was talking to the girl to his right, while the other was laughing with Seungkwan. While Seokmin listened to the girl, he would casually nod and reply to her politely. Then you remembered that he tended to be shy on social reunions like these and that made you smile.

"Hey, why haven't you replied to my messages?" Soonyoung elbowed you.

You turned to look at him pout. "Sorry, Hoshi. Been busy," you patted his blond head.

"I hate it when you leave me on read," he continued to pout.

"I don't remember what you texted," you said, pursing your lips while you tried to remember.

"I asked you if you were in the final auditions yet," he groaned.

"Ah, yes that's right," you nodded. "And yes. You?"

He scratched his blond head. "Uhh, me too. But I'm not too confident," he shrugged.

Your brow furrowed. "Why?"

He eyed across the table before leaning towards you. "What if we both get the role? I'd have to kiss you," he hissed with a strained look on his face.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. "That's why you don't want the role? I feel offended," you laughed.

He nodded his head shortly. "I don't wanna kiss my best friend's girl. Nuh-uh. That's fucked up."

Your smile faded a bit. "Right. That might be awkward."

Soonyoung tilted his head to the side, still speaking in a hush tone. "Can you imagine that? What will I say at your wedding feast?"

That made you almost choke on your drink.

"Whoa, hold on tiger," you tried to laugh. "There's no wedding."

"Not yet," his eyes widened a bit and he pushed his lower lip out.

As if planned, you both glanced across the table. Seokmin was resting his head on his hand, elbow on the table listening to the girl next to him with a polite smile.

"I think you've had too much to drink, my friend," you chuckled and patted his reddened cheek softly.

"I'm not drunk," he shook his head and then rolled his eyes. "Well, just a bit tipsy but I'm for real when I tell you that I've always rooted for you guys."

"What do you mean?" you asked carefully.

"You're my best friends," he shrugged again. "And I've always been aware of how Dk looks at you and I'm not dumb. I know how love looks like."

"Love." you stuttered.

When Soonyoung sent a weird look, then you knew you had to compose yourself and remain on your act.

"Well, you both were always in your own little world to notice," he explained and leaned back on his chair. "But I'm happy that you're together now."

Trying to keep your cool as best as you possibly could, you smiled at him. And it was enough for Soonyoung because he was already speaking to the other person next to him.

Bewildered, your eyes fell on Seokmin. As if he knew you were about to look his way, his eyes met yours. His smile was gentle and blinked slowly your way and you managed a small smile.

When the dinner was over, someone had already organized an after party. Minghao wasn't at all prepared for an after party but didn't complained.

As you walked out of the restaurant, the air of the cold night had grown cruller. You hissed at it and your hands covered your face.

"Here," Seokmin mumbled and slipped his warm denim jacket on your shoulders.

"Thanks," you beamed at him, sinking your arms inside the warm sleeves. His scent coming from his jacket flooded your senses.

"No problem," his hand took your chin briefly, a warm smile on his face.

You resumed walking at his side, following your friends towards the after party. Then a hand slipped between yours almost as if it were second nature. You intertwined your fingers with his, enjoying the warm sensation that flooded inside you.

"D'you want to go to the after party?" Seokmin asked. "Apparently everyone is going."

"Uh... sure. Why not," you shrugged. "Do you?"

"Is there something wrong?" he asked suddenly, reading your face.

"No," you blurted a bit too quickly. "Everything's fine. Why?"

He pointed a finger to your face. "Your mouth is doing that thing it does when something is bothering you."

You huffed. "And what is that?"

Seokmin pursed his lips and did an impression of you chewing the inside of your mouth. "You do it every time something's wrong."

"Really?"

"I've noticed," he put in simply. "We've known each other for years, it's hard to not pick up on some stuff."

"Huh."

"Are you guys coming?" Soonyoung asked while passing you and Seokmin on the sidewalk.

"We'll meet you there," Seokmin nodded with a nod of his head.

"Don't bail on me, you two. I need my drinking partner!" he scolded in a slurred tone, his drunken face so flushed it made him look cute.

You were the drinking partner in question. It was a thing you had while in uni. Whenever they dragged you to a party and you played any drinking game, somehow you ended up worse than them. So you earned the said designated title.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Seokmin suggested, still thinking that you were upset by something.

"I want to go," you reassured him. "I just don't think I can drink too much tonight."

"Then don't. I'll help you win, or not drink. Whatever comes to it," he pressed his lips in a smile.

Then he gently clasped your hand with his and started walking together to catch up to Soonyoung.

"Okiedokie," you mumbled, knowing it would make him smile.

"Such a dork," he sighed.

The after party was in a gallery art that was owned by one of Minghao's friends. It was down a street in between two restaurants that had already closed.

The gallery was spacious, pale grey concrete floors and walls that made it feel like a liminal space. The walls were covered by large murals and paintings and in the back there was a large space where someone was drawing some foldable chairs from a small closet.

Soon, more and more people started to show up, you even saw some faces that weren't at the dinner. Someone had brought sound equipment, and the art gallery turned into an artful improvised nightclub.

Seungkwan crossed the space, walking among the crowd towards you and pointed a finger to you. "There you are! I want to introduce you to a friend, come."

He promptly took the hand and the last thing you saw before breaking away from your fake boyfriend was his warm smile and him disappearing into the crowd with Jeonghan and Soonyoung.

You let your best friend drag you through the mass of unknown faces. He introduced you to a friend called Jun. The reason Seungkwan wanted you to meet his friend was because Jun was a tv actor and you kind of always been interested in acting for tv projects, so a conversation with the shy actor ensued.

Jun was one of the most beautiful individual's you've ever met. His red wine coloured hair made a shocking contrast with his sweet kind smile. He was sitting on top of a big wooden crate that quite possibly had paintings inside. But he seemed to not pay too much attention to it, he even invited you to sit beside him.

However, no matter how interested you were in the conversation, your eyes darted back were you last saw Seokmin, searching for him in the sea of faces.

You exchanged contacts with Jun, promising to keep in contact with him if you ever want to meet up and even meet his agent. It was an interesting opportunity, too promising to pass up.

The bellowing, drunken voice of Soonyoung made you look into the crowd, and beside your drunk friend you found Seokmin, his hands on his knees, laughing silly at something drunk Soonyoung was saying.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Seokmin laughing so hard he had to crouch down, hands on his knees, trying to compose himself.

"That's your boyfriend, isn't it?" Jun asked, since everyone was looking at his direction.

"Yeah," you muttered simply. It made an effect on your body whenever you called him your boyfriend. Even if it wasn't exactly that.

"Go to him," he pointed with his nose towards Seokmin. "I know you don't want to be here."

Your brows furrowed. "I'm sorry," you saw him smile as you left Seungkwan's friends. "I'll stay in touch, though."

Jun raised a hand, waving you goodbye as you made your way to where Seokmin was with Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They were playing some silly game in which they had to fake scream in pain, but Soonyoung was so drunk that couldn't make sense of his own words.

"Alright, big boy," Jeonghan said, pulling a chair in front of Soonyoung. "Enough alcohol for you."

Soonyoung was already red in the face, but if you could give him anything, he was an obedient drunk.

"Hey, that's my drinking partner," Soonyoung mumbled, pointing a weak finger at you as his head landed on the table.

"What did you do to him?" you asked.

"He lost the game three times in a row," Seokmin explained with a shrug.

"I'm taking him home," Jeonghan patted the drunken head resting on the table once and went outside to get his car.

"Thanks," you crouched to level your eyes with your friend. He smiled, making the cheek that was pressed to the table bulge.

"'m fine," he mumbled. And closed his eyes, within seconds he had already fallen asleep.

Seokmin was behind you when you stood up, a hand sneaking on your lower back. "Well if it's any consolation, you won't have to drink tonight."

"Yeah, lucky me," you smiled, turning to him so that your body was facing his.

"Who did Seungkwan want you to meet?" he asked.

"A tv actor. Told me to meet up with his agent to talk auditions," you told him.

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like an interesting opportunity. Who is he?"

You subtly gestured toward Jun, who remained perched like a model on a large wooden crate, even the lights on him appeared to be lighting him up like a piece of art in the gallery.

"We exchanged numbers to meet someday," you mentioned casually.

"You did?" he shifted his gaze from the charming actor to study your face.

Your eyes narrowed. "Yeah. What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just curious."

A smile played on your lips. "Are you…"

His brow furrowed slightly. "What?"

"Jealous?"

He let out a chuckle, attempting to mask his surprise. "Jealous? Why would I be?"

You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you've been showing a possessive streak lately?"

His expression softened, and the hand on your lower back pressed on you a little. "What if I did feel a little jealous?"

A warmth rushed through your body, you felt it pulse in your chest.

You leaned into his touch, savouring the warmth of his hand on your back. "Well, then I might have to make it up to you somehow," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

He smiled, a mixture of playfulness and curiosity. "Oh, yeah? And how will that be?"

"Why don't you find out?" you replied coyly, and you stood on your tiptoes, letting the hand on your back go a little lower on the small of your back.

Curious fingers gingerly and discreetly explored the small of your back and ass. Seokmin understood immediately, his alarmed eyes stopping on yours. "You're not wearing underwear." he muttered.

A nervous laugh bubbled up in your chest as you nodded with your head.

His free hand took you by your jaw, pulling you into a rushed kiss. "You'll be the death of me," he groaned.

He dragged you through the dense crowd and led you out the dimly lit art gallery. You walked through a small door and found yourself in a deserted, dark alley. A tall ceramic pot with a dried plant was the only feature in the secluded area.

Seokmin was already pinning you against a wall, leaning his head down to find your lips. You had already decided to ignore all your rational thinking and melted into his lips.

"We're gonna have to be quick," he muttered, his lips brushing yours before sinking down on them again.

"I don't trust your definition of quick," you whispered, your hands slipping behind his neck to drag him into another wet kiss.

"For real this time," he smirked.

"I've never been fucked against a wall," you blurted out when your hand reached for the belt in his pants.

"Just hold onto me. I'll do the work," he mumbled and his breath hitched when he felt your fingers on his skin when you buried your hand beneath his underwear, grabbing his already hardened cock. "Your hands are cold."

"Sorry," you whispered, your hand feeling the soft skin of his length, the tip of his cock was already wet in precum when you rubbed your thumb across it, smearing the wetness around his cockhead.

"Lean against the wall. I'm going to lift you up," he muttered and you did what he said.

Seokmin reached down at your legs under the skirt of your dress and he swiftly lifted your body up, grabbing your ass in his hands. You pulled your skirt to your hips, giving him space to properly slot himself between your thighs.

Your hand snuck between his body and yours, finding his cock again with your fingers and led it to your core. Watching his face intently, you played a little with his cockhead, dragging it across your wet folds. A groan reverberated through his gritted teeth.

"You're soaking wet, baby," he said, dropping his forehead on yours when he felt you. "Does making me jealous turn you on?"

"You turn me on," you mumbled. "I missed you, Seokmin. It's been days since we last fucked."

The squelching sound coming from you playing with his cock against your entrance only made you more aroused. You bit your lip down before aligning his cockhead to your entrance, and looked at Seokmin's eyes.

"Are you sure you can take me like this?" he whispered.

You nodded, feeling so eager that you couldn't breathe. "I'm sure."

But soon you understand what the really meant. He started to ease himself inside you with shallow thrusts, stretching your tight core open so slowly, but so deliciously your eyes screw shut, making you see stars.

Normally when you had sex with him, he would play with your core with his fingers before fucking you. But now he went in without stretching you beforehand, and it had been days since you last had him inside you.

Your breath hitched at the sharp pain, grabbing him by the shoulders of his shirt and your fingers twisted to resist the pain as he was still sinking his length inside you. It was a bit painful, but you found out that your body liked it. The mere thought of him stretching your core, having him raw aroused you even more.

"You told me you could take me," he muttered in a hushed tone. "D'you want to stop?"

"No," you mumbled quickly and reached for his lips. "Keep going, please."

Your hands were clinging at his shoulders, fingers twitching at the exquisite feeling of having him inside you. His hips came to a stop, and you could feel that he had sheathed himself completely inside you.

This could drive you crazy. Him being so closely connected to your body that you could feel the warmth of him, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you as he moved in a slow pace, still adjusting to your body.

"Are you okay, baby?" he mumbled.

You muffled a whimper biting down your lip at the sound of his voice calling you that.

"I'm okay," you replied, feeling out of breath but in plain ecstasy.

His hips started moving, not caring about being slow or patient and you silently thanked him for it. He was thrusting in you so fast that there was barely any chance to capture his lips in yours so you resorted to see his face as he fucked you into the wall.

Your hands moved daintily from the shoulders of his shirt to his neck. It was already covered in a light layer of sweat, but his hips didn't faltered, thrusting inside you so deep that you felt like you were impaling yourself in his cock.

You stiffened a moan when he found a rhythm that hit your core so deliciously you felt like you had to cum soon.

"Quiet, baby," he whispered when he heard you. He leaned down and pressed a quick tender kiss on your lips, still rutting his hips against yours.

Seokmin's eyes were focused on your face, you could tell he was attentive to the faces you made whenever he'd hit the golden spot inside you. Then, one of your hands slid between your bodies, your eyebrows furrowed with tension as you managed to rub your clit, feeling so close to the release your body was building up, he smiled.

"Aw baby, are you going to cum?" he whispered.

The hand that was still clinging to him clenched at the hem of his shirt and felt your body tense up and you could savour your release. You nodded, "'m so close, babe," you whimpered.

Seokmin groaned as your walls clamped erratically around his cock, a warm wet sensation slipped where your bodies connected. You knew you were creaming on his cock and the thought of it sent you over the edge.

You came, hard enough to shake on his arms and whimper quietly his name. It took everything you had to not scream, tears brimming up in the corners of your eyes as your body went limp under the waves of bliss consuming you.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered on your lips, and you knew he was close too.

As his hips were faltering, you wrapped your legs around his hips. "No, don't pull out," you muttered wildly. A groan was muffled by your mouth as he came inside you, pumping warm ropes of cum deep inside you.

His hips came to a stop, his cock still buried deep inside your core. Now that he had stilled, you reached to kiss his lips fervently, still feeling under the craze of your orgasm.

Seokmin pulled his head back, breaking the kiss with a gasp from you.

"Babe?" he repeated, his brow deeply furrowed.

Your heart stilled.

"You don't like it?" you asked innocently. "I won't use it again."

He didn't really give an answer. He just blinked slowly, his gaze drawing away from your face and into the night sky. "You didn't let me pull out."

"I missed you," you replied with a small voice.

He lowered his eyes to find yours. "You missed me that much?" he muttered, his lips rose in a downturned smile. "Did you miss my cock so much that you needed me to fuck you in a dark alley?"

"I did," you breathed, feeling your blood rush to your cheeks. "It's all I could think of; you inside me, cumming in me."

He was breathing softly against your lips, his forehead sweaty as he gently rested it against yours. "Don't," he whispered. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

He shook his head slightly, his forehead still on yours. "Saying you missed me. Making me feel jealous. Calling me babe. Fucks with my head."

"Sorry," you heard yourself say. "I..."

You wanted to tell him that you did miss him. Not just the sex. But you couldn't quite bring yourself to say it.

You waited for a long second, his breathing was not slowing down and his forearms were starting to shake a little. He put you back on the floor, not quite letting you go until you could stand on your own.

You leaned against the wall as you watched him fix his pants quietly, his belt hanging lose as he looked at you.

"Do you have your panties?" he asked.

You nodded. "Yeah," your fingers dug at your tiny purse and you pulled a clean black thong.

He took it from your hand and knelt down before you, patting on your ankle for you to lift it up the ground and then the next. Then he slid your underwear up your legs, fixing the edges so they wouldn't bump on your dress.

"Thanks," you whispered.

"I'm going to take you home now, okay?" he muttered, he was serious now. Something you rarely saw on him.

"Kay," you whispered.

Taking your hand in his, he led you through the alley and to the street. Soon you realized that you were ten minutes away from your apartment building and Seokmin was leading you back.

He was too quiet, dangerously quiet you'd say. And you didn't know how to make him talk about what kept him this quiet. So you stayed silent too because you didn't know what to say.

"Are you... are you staying tonight?" you asked when you got to your apartment door and opened it for him.

He leaned his head against your doorframe, looking at you as if he didn't know what to do with you.

"I just wanted to get you home," he mumbled. "I'll be going now."

Your brow furrowed, feeling a morose pain sweep in your chest. A pain you knew too well.

"What's wrong?" you asked, in a small voice.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" he said softly, a sad, tired look on his face.

You felt your knees wobble a bit. "We can talk now," you suggested, already feeling what would come next.

Seokmin sighed and stepped inside your apartment, closing the door behind him.

You slowly removed his jacket and handed it to him. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not," he replied with a reassuring tone. He took his jacket and put it on and you noticed the expression on his face was conflicted.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your heart beating so hard against your chest you thought it might tell on you. Seokmin approached in your living room, and now you could see him under the light of the lamps.

"I don't think I can keep up with this," he admitted.

Your heart felt heavy, as if it were being squeezed in a tight fist.

"Why? What changed?" you murmured.

"I broke our promise," he sighed heavily.

A burning sense of fear crippled you. Everything was happening too fast for you to cope or understand. But you knew that you had to face it.

"The more we fuck around the more I realise that it's not just the sex what I want anymore," Seokmin continued. "I know I promised this wouldn't happen, but it did. And I'm not sure how much longer I can take this fake dating, because I want more... I want to be with you."

A heavy silence hung in the air, and you struggled to find the right words to respond. After a moment, you managed to say, "I didn't think this would happen so soon."

He nodded, his eyes darkened with a mix of regret and longing. "I understand if you need space. I just had to be honest with you."

You inhaled deeply, attempting to calm your aching heart. "I'm not ready. Not yet."

You could see the internal struggle in his eyes, the turmoil of emotions he'd been dealing with. And he could probably see the same in your eyes.

"I know," he finally said, his voice tense with defeat.

Of course he knew. He was your best friend. He was there when you were broken after finding out your ex had cheated on you. He understood everything you had gone through to move on. He would know if you're ready to love again.

"But we can work it out," you murmured, your eyes suddenly filling with tears. "I want us to."

His gaze softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I don't want to rush you. I'll be patient."

Your voice trembled as you replied, "I just need time."

He pulled you into a tight hug, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll give you all the time you need," he promised, his voice reassuring. "I'm not going anywhere."

As you both stood there, wrapped in the weight of the moment, the air felt heavy with unspoken words and a understanding. You hugged him close to your body, shaking with sobs, allowing yourself to bury your face in the warmth of his chest.

"I need to go now," he muttered with a heavy tone.

Your arms tensed around him. You heard him release a sigh, and knew he was smiling.

"Have a bath and go to bed," he instructed. "You'll feel better."

You didn't want him to leave. But when you finally forced yourself to let him go, he kissed your forehead sweetly before patting your head as he always did.

"I'll stay close, noodle. Don't worry," he muttered with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Then he turned away and left quietly.

♡︎ a/n: i love dk sm! u-u i got a bit carried away with the angst i just love it hehe. if you liked reading this feel free to show it some love leaving a like, reblogging, commenting. k, bye! ( · ❛ ֊ ❛)

click here for part 4!!

[frost-queen]

Sleep tricks (Fem!Reader x Lorraine Warren)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic , @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 , @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers , @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly ,@denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,@subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07 , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury ,  @imagines-by-her ,  @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @cherrysxuya , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @niktwazny303 , @markive-m

The tele was on loud as Lorraine laughed loud at something silly. You were leaning against her, all snuggled up. The television was no interest to you as you couldn’t seem to keep yourself awake. Such a hard working day you had, it exhausted you. Too many deadlines and pressure that came with unwanted stress. Lorraine laughed again as a little motion from her made you snap awake.

Half confused, you looked around. – “Y/n sweetie were you falling asleep?” – she asked curious. You shook your head with exhausted eyes. Lorraine giggled repositioning herself in the sofa to face you more. She placed her hand under your chin, cupping it. – “Did you just lie to me?” – she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head again. Lorraine tilting her head down with a scowl. Smiling sheepishly, you measured a little between your fingers. Lorraine smiled before bringing your face closer to her. Kissing your lips tenderly. – “Then lets head to bed.” – she spoke, turning your cheek to leave a kiss there.

“You don’t have to go just because I feel tired.” – you told her, already moving the blanket away. – “Nonsense.” – Lorraine let out. She got up, taking your hand to pull you up. – “How can I refuse the opportunity to wrap my arms around my wife and sleep comfortably.” – Lorraine teased making you give her a playful shove.

Lorraine kept holding your hand, leading you upstairs. On the way, you yawned needing Lorraine to help you upstairs. She moved you into the bathroom. You wanted to pull your shirt off when you seemed to get a little stuck. Arms up as the shirt was all around your head.

“Help.” – you yelped out as Lorraine chuckled softly. She pulled the shirt over your head, releasing you from your clothing trap. She tossed it on the ground, leaving a kiss on your collarbone. Then she left a kiss in your neck, tickling you.

“Allow me.” – Lorraine said unbuttoning your pants. She bend down to pull your pants down. Lifting your feet up, you helped her with the last bit. Lorraine left a kiss on your inner thigh as you hummed softly. She then moved back up, kissing your lips. Lorraine helped you in your pyjama’s knowing you were too exhausted to do so. Lorraine changed while you brushed your teeth. 

Lorraine bumped you aside with her hip to get some space too. You laughed with a mouth full of toothpaste. Lorraine brushed her teeth while you made yourself ready for bed. Lorraine entered the bedroom as you were puffing up the pillows. She went around the bed to her side, pulling the blanket off. You crawled in the bed with her.

She sighed content when you came snuggling closer to her. – “Good night sweetheart.” – she said with a kiss on your forehead. – “Good night my darling.” – you responded, leaving a kiss on her cheek. Lorraine and you shared a last kiss before settling down to sleep. She wrapped her arms tightly around you as you reached out to turn the nightlight off.

Exhaling soft, you moved closer to Lorraine once more. Kissing her neck before resting against her. Lorraine seemed to be more tired than she let out. For she slept deeply within the next 15minutes. You on the other hand, despite being so tired before, seemed wide awake now. With eyes wide open, were you staring at the ceiling.

Lorraine’s arm sloppy on your chest. Sighing loud, you hated this feeling. When you tried to close your eyes, a million thoughts kept you awake. Lifting your head a bit up, you stared into the darkness of the room. Swallowing nervously, you laid your head back down. 

Not wanting to think about Lorraine’s job. What if something had followed her home? What if something was watching you? Waiting for you to go to sleep to torment you in your dreams? Looking over at Lorraine, she seemed to sleep contently. Almost with a smile on her lips, so she couldn’t be having a nightmare.

The sudden thought of a thing being in the room with you, made you even more awake. Filling your body with fright. You shot up, sitting up straight. Scanning the room with frightful eyes. Wanting to recognize every shape of shadow in the room. That was but your closet. The vanity. A chair.

You needed to recognize everything to know for sure there wasn’t anything with you in the room. Swallowing nervously, you knew you wouldn’t sleep now. Even when you had the confirmation that nothing was in the room with you. It could always still happen. You kept sitting up, staring a bit out in front of you.

Thinking a thousand thoughts to set your mind of potential demons or ghosts. Singing a song in your head. Listing things up that you had to do tomorrow. Plan something in your head to do with Lorraine this weekend. Anything to not think about it.

The hours went by as you still didn’t feel sleepy. As if the brief moments you had closed your eyes, were enough for your brain to think it had has enough sleep. Which it didn’t. Sighing soft, you rubbed your eyes annoyingly. Lorraine groaned softly in her sleep, making you freeze. You didn’t want to wake her up. She moved again in her sleep as you watched her attentively.

Lorraine kept moving in her sleep till she lifted herself a bit up by her elbow. – “Y/n are you awake?” – she asked sleepy, eyes still closed. – “Go back to sleep.” – you whispered to her. Lorraine rubbed her eye, slowly waking up. – “What’s the matter sweetheart?” – she asked with a soft yawn. You pulled your shoulders up as Lorraine looked at you. – “Can’t sleep?” – she questioned.

“It appears so.” – you answered feeling a bit silly. Lorraine chuckled snuggling closer to you. Wrapping her arm around your waist. – “Then we shall have to do something about it.” – she mumbled feeling herself go sleepy again. You smiled giving her a kiss that seemed to wake her up a bit more.

“Do proceed.” – Lorraine muttered out with a content smile. You laughed. Then you started to leave more kisses on her face. – “Who is making who sleepy?” – you asked teasingly. Lorraine inhaled deep lifting her body a bit up. – “Alright.” – she spoke with a deep inhale.

She seated herself a bit better, cupping your face as she started kissing your face. Every inch of it kissed by her till she ended with a strong kiss on your lips. She moved over you, continue to kiss you as she had other plans to wear you out. You didn’t complained feeling her love for you through her kisses.

Soon you yawned making Lorraine snort. She stopped kissing you, laying her head on your shoulder. Snuggling closer to you as you wrapped your arms around her. – “Good night sweetheart.” – she whispered. – “Good night… darling…” – you yawned out, closing your eyes.  

-------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[hugsandchaos]

He’s In The Walls!

Summary: Uhh, I did the writing version of doodling last night and forgot to post it. Once again, the ranch hand tries to trick Danny into getting some sleep. Key word: tries.

Word count: 1,235

Twilight peered into the room and internally let out a mixture of a sigh and a groan. Just like he saw earlier, Danny was still awake, sitting by the fireplace, still reviewing and studying the same textbook over and over. His red notebook was left open and folded in half next to the small, but rather thick book with blue and black colors wide open. Danny called it “Algebra Two”, which was something he was supposed to start learning in over two months from the day he ended up tagging along with them.

He was determined to use any free time he had while on this adventure to get a head start, though, because according to him, math wasn’t his strong suit and Algebra is apparently part of math. It made sense, but at the same time, it frustrated Twilight a bit that it was his first thing to do when he had free time.

Unless it was nighttime. He’d instead be found outside stargazing. Except tonight.

Tonight, Danny had been reading and doing practice problems since before the sunset, right after he finished helping around with chores and dinner. It was as if he didn’t notice day had already passed by. Twilight wouldn’t be too surprised. The young teen could get pretty deep in the zone if he was left to it for long enough.

Danny reached for the mug placed on the carpet next to him and lifted it up to take a sip of the contents, but then he paused and looked inside.”Huh, must’ve drank faster than I thought.” He muttered to himself. Twilight’s mood was lifted and a smile briefly appeared on his face when he heard that. Before he could try to put his plan into motion, however, Danny stood up. He yawned and turned to go into the kitchen. There was the sound of water and movement before he came back to sit down next to the books again.

He lifted both arms up and groaned a little before letting his arms fall back down. Danny just sat there for another few seconds, eyes staring at the fire in a tired daze, then looked back at the books. Twilight decided now was the time to make his move.

The ranch hand wordlessly entered the room and began walking towards Danny. Surprisingly, he went unnoticed until he came close enough to kneel down and put the blanket around Danny’s shoulder.”Twilight? I appreciate it, but I’m not cold—“ Danny stopped his response when he noticed that the ranch hand had actually wrapped it around his shoulders. Twilight lightly pushed him down and reached one arm down so he could get his legs, too.

“Hey, what are you going?!” Danny asked, a little irritated. He moved his legs around and tried to worm out the arms that were now pinned against his sides, but he was tired after everything that transpired over the last few days.

It affected all of the members, really. Twilight had just gotten up for some water, but when he saw Danny, he went and got a spare blanket. Now he was going to use it to wrap around him and finally ensure he’d get his sleep.

Danny wriggled around in protest, but his movements didn’t have even half as much strength as usual. When Twilight successfully managed to wrap his entire body in the blanket, Danny had finally stopped fighting, but the glare he shot Twilight’s way had a small fire that wasn’t extinguished yet. The ranch hand wrapped his left arm around Danny and picked him up. As he left the room and took a turn to the right, the kid’s irritation grew with his stuff now left behind.

“Are you going to explain?” Danny asked.

“Kid, you’re falling asleep at the books and it’s midnight. You’re going to bed.” Twilight said. He turned his body and maneuvered through the doorway meant for one person, not one person plus another wrapped in a blanket.” ‘N don’t bother tryin’ to get free anymore. I know that your strength’s spent, ‘n that tea you were given actually helps with sleep, not stayin’ awake.” He added.

The hallway itself was luckily wide enough for three people, so the ranch hand was able to carry Danny without worrying about hitting him against the wall. The long window following down half of it allowed faint moonlight from the unseen moon to paint the hallway in a very dim, calming white light. It was a little quiet for a few more seconds, and Twilight had allowed himself to hope that the cozy cargo he was carrying had fallen asleep already.

“Smart move, cowboy.” Danny said. He said it in that kind of note where it’s half spite, half genuine respect. Twilight breathed out a very brief laugh from his nose as he crossed the hall towards the door on the other side, which had an unclaimed bed inside.“You know what the only problem is?” Danny asked.

Feeling a little smug about how things turned out, Twilight couldn’t help but think that whatever he was about to say or do wouldn’t be an actual problem. Sure, the kid was stronger than he looked, but any sudden bursts of fighting energy had likely already been spent. Still, he wanted to know what he was going to say for the sole purpose of seeing him when it didn’t work.”What’s that?” Twilight asked confidently. While he was focused on opening the door, he failed to notice the white light coming from Danny.

“I’m already gone.”

As soon as he started speaking, Twilight noticed the lack of weight where Danny once was. He could no longer feel the young teenager against his body and the blanket that he’d previously used to secure him fell from his arm and onto the floor. The ranch hand looked down bewildered to see nothing but empty space where Danny was supposed to be. Twilight’s eyes widened in shock as he looked around almost frantically, genuinely concerned about how the kid had disappeared and where to.

As he glanced around, his enhanced hearing picked up on a small laugh coming from the right. When he turned, he couldn’t see Danny, but something told Twilight that some kind of presence he didn’t notice before had just left the narrow room through the wall right in front of him.“He’s in the walls...” He muttered. He then picked up the blanket again and held either side in both hands. He readied himself and relied on the very odd sensation his wolf senses picked up as he ran back down the hall. He already knew that the books were probably already gone.”He’s in the goddessdamn walls!” Twilight repeated, but kept his voice down to a whisper.

When Time looked out his window to see Twilight running across the field and out of view of the window, his first thought was that something was incredibly wrong and sat up. Then, just as quickly, he saw the ranch hand return carrying a sleeping Danny into the house. He smiled a little and laid back down to go back to sleep.

The next day, he’d confirm with Twilight that Danny stayed up late studying again, and Malon would hear them and swear to have a word with him.

“Hylia help him.” Twilight joked.

“Oh, pup, Hylia would only be able to stall her for a few minutes.” Time said

[sequinsmile-x]

Noise Pollution

Emily's snoring keeps Aaron awake, but instead of upsetting his very pregnant wife by telling her, he comes up with a solution. And it works.

Right up until it doesn't.

-x-

Hi friends,

I had this idea about the snoring, and then the lovely @section-chief-prentiss tagged me in a post from Reddit where someone finds out their partner sets their alarm early just to snuggle with them...and I just had to write it in!!

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this slightly silly Saturday evening fluff.

-x-

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron huffs out a breath as he checks the time on the alarm clock on his nightstand and then rubs his tired eyes.

3 am. 

He had to be up in three hours for work, and he’d barely slept. He sits up in bed and looks over at his wife, smiling softly at the sight of her fast asleep and curled around her pregnancy pillow. He was pleased she was sleeping, that she was getting the rest she so desperately needed in the lead up to their daughter being born in just 6 weeks time, but there was one side effect that, sadly, meant he was unable to sleep himself. 

She snored. Loudly. 

She always had snored, but not quite like this. It was something he’d picked up on their first night together. She’d fallen asleep first, half lying on top of him, her skin pressed up against his and her face against his neck as she dozed off. Her snoring was soft, bordering on cute - something he’d never tell her - and he very quickly came to find he couldn’t sleep without it. His very own form of white noise. One of the many things he’d learnt about her over the last few years, bits and pieces that he treasured, memories and facts about her stored away for when he needed them the most. He’d always been able to sleep through Emily’s snoring, so he’d never mentioned it to her. He didn't want to embarrass her or make her feel self-conscious, already aware at the start of their relationship of how big a deal it was for her to trust someone enough to sleep next to them. 

He jumps slightly when she snores again, the sound loud, rattling around the room in such a way he has no idea how she sleeps through it and he sighs. 

He used to be able to sleep through her snoring. 

Ever since she’d hit the third trimester of her pregnancy the snoring had got a lot worse. He knew it was a common symptom, something that happened to a lot of women, but he was still shocked at the sound his beautiful wife made whenever she fell asleep these days. He had decided not to say anything, partially because he knew she couldn’t do anything about it. She was already forced to sleep on her left side, curled around a pregnancy pillow that he was strangely jealous of, so telling her when she couldn’t switch sleeping positions seemed nothing short of cruel. He also didn’t want to tell her because he didn’t want to upset her, her usually famous emotional control left somewhere behind in her first trimester, and he didn’t want to make her upset, or angry, if he could help it. 

He’d touched on sleeping in the spare room a few weeks ago, albeit for an entirely different reason. She was hot and uncomfortable and entirely unable to relax enough to sleep, grumbling under her breath that he was a furnace, something she’d always historically loved. He’d offered to go and sleep in the spare room so she could get comfortable, and the irritation she’d clearly been feeling towards him and his body temperature just moments before disappeared, and her face had collapsed, tears shining in her eyes as she’d asked if he didn’t want to sleep with her anymore. He’d quickly assured her that he wanted to, reminded her that he loved her, and bought a cooling blanket for her to sleep under. 

He leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek, smiling when she snorts, a sound he knows she’d never believe she’d made if he told her, and he stands up, yawning as he stretches before he picks up his cell phone from the nightstand, planning on going to get a cup of coffee and starting the day immediately. 

It’s only as he walks past the spare room, his limbs uncoordinated in a way they hadn’t been since he was a teenager who had recently gone through a growth spurt, that he considers it. The sound of Emily’s snoring dulled by the closed bedroom door in a way that made him even more grateful they’d made Jack’s bedroom the one furthest from theirs. He walks towards the spare bedroom, almost led by his body, his legs taking steps of their own accord, as he slips into the bed. He pulls his phone out of his sweatpants pocket and sets an alarm for 5.45 am, enough time to wake up and get back into bed with Emily, and he falls asleep within minutes.

It works. For a week or so it works and he is able to get back into their bed before she wakes up, meaning she’s none the wiser to her snoring or the fact he had taken to sleeping in the spare room. He uses the time to snuggle with her, wrap himself around her so she’d wake up surrounded by his love and warmth. 

He hates that he’s keeping a secret from her, something he’d never done, but it feels like the right thing to do, especially when she smiles at him first thing in the morning, reaching out for his hand as she presses it to where the baby is shifting beneath her skin. 

It works, right up until it doesn’t.

___

At first, she isn’t sure what wakes her up. Then the baby kicks her bladder and she feels the overwhelming urge to pee.

“Okay, kiddo,” she says, groaning as she sits up, her hand on her bump as she does so, “Let’s go.” 

It’s only when she gets back from the bathroom that she realises Aaron isn’t in bed. She frowns and decides to go and look for him. She was planning on starting with their home office, he often went there if he couldn’t sleep, but she stops just outside of their spare bedroom when she spots the door is slightly ajar. She pushes it open and huffs out a breath when she sees him sleeping in there, still on the side he usually would with his hand reaching out to where she would be sleeping if she was in there with him. 

She turns on the light and he doesn’t move, doesn’t wake up even the slightest bit, and she grumbles, walking towards the bed. She picks up one of the pillows and hits him with it, feeling a strange bit of satisfaction when he wakes up immediately, his eyes going wide as he sits up and clamours out of bed, an edge of panic around him that she thinks she’d find amusing in any other circumstance. 

“Em,” he says, standing up, his hands reaching out for her, “Are you okay?” He asks, looking her up and down, his eyes fixed on her bump, “Is she okay, is she coming?” 

She rolls her eyes, and crosses her arms, “We’re both fine. Why are you sleeping in here?” 

He falters for a moment, his brain still not entirely online, and he clears his throat, saying the first thing that comes to mind, “I just thought you’d be more comfortable if I slept in here.” 

She hates the wave of emotion that washes over her, making her feel unsteady in a way she still wasn’t used to almost 8 months into this pregnancy. She’d always prided herself on how she was able to control her emotions, one of the few lasting side effects of how she was raised that she liked. Aaron was the only person she’d ever let fully let in. He’d broken down every single one of her defences, snuck under them and learnt what made her tick, something no one else had ever bothered with. And he wanted to do it, he’d made it his mission to know her as well as possible and she loved it, loved that he’d taken the time to know her so intimately. 

She knows he doesn’t need that to see how upset she is right now, that even her mother would be able to see that she was on the verge of tears, and she hates it. Hates that she’s so out of control, that she’s about to cry over the fact she’s found him sleeping in the spare room. 

He reaches out for her and grabs her hand, grateful when she doesn’t flinch or pull back, “Oh, sweetheart-”

“Is it because you don’t find me attractive anymore?” She asks, her voice breaking, her greatest insecurity in all of this immediately at the forefront of her mind. It was something she’d worried about for months. 

At first, she’d loved the changes to her body. She’d stand in front of the mirror, facing sideways as she desperately looked at her belly, keen to see it start to curve. She was nothing short of excited when she realised she had an actual bump, not something that could be mistaken for bloating, but things had changed. She felt massive now, almost endlessly uncomfortable, and she hated looking at herself naked. The scar on her abdomen had warped as her bump got bigger and she worried what it would look like when her daughter was here, how it would settle back down, the landscape of her body seemingly constantly changing. She worried he felt the same way, despite his reassurances that he didn’t, and finding him sleeping in here had set fire to those concerns, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as tears she can’t control slip down them. 

“Em, baby, no it’s not that,” he says, guilt rolling in his gut. He guides her to sit down on the bed and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, tugging her close as he places his other hand on her bump, smiling softly when he feels their little girl shift around, “It’s never going to be that. I’ll always find you attractive. Even when we’re both old and yelling at each other because we can’t actually hear each other anymore.”

She chuckles, the sound catching in her chest as she wipes at her cheeks, “Then what is it?” 

He sighs and he kisses her forehead, and he knows he has to tell her the truth. He rests his forehead against her temple and closes his eyes, “You snore.” 

She frowns and pulls back to look at him, confusion painted across her face, “What?” 

He smiles tightly at her and tucks some hair behind her ear, “You snore.”

“How…how long have I snored for?” 

He clears his throat, preparing himself slightly before he answers, “For as long as we’ve been together.” 

She chokes on a laugh and covers her mouth, trying to remember if anyone had ever told her before that she snored, and she shakes her head, her smile turning incredulous, “Why did you never say anything?” 

“Because it was cu…” he trails off as she clears her throat and raises an eyebrow at him, a clear warning sign he doesn’t ignore, “It was never very loud before. But as we get closer to the end of your pregnancy…”

“It’s getting louder,” she says for him and he nods. She groans and she covers her face with both of her hands, “This is so embarrassing.” 

“It’s not, sweetheart, I promise.”

She looks at him sharply, anger flashing through her “Then why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I know you need your rest. And you can’t help it or switch positions,” he says, placing his hand on her thigh and squeezing gently, “And I didn’t want to upset you,” he smiles wryly, “Which clearly I achieved.” 

She tries to suppress a laugh but it breaks free and she shakes her head at him, “I can’t decide if I should be pissed or if I think this is sweet,” she says, tilting her head at him, her smile turning curious, “So, how long have you been sleeping in here?” 

He sighs and scratches the back of his head, “About 8 days,” he says carefully, “I wait until you fall asleep, come in here and set my alarm 15 minutes before your alarm and then I sneak back in.”

She narrows her eyes at him as she takes in what he’s said, her tongue pressed into her cheek, “And I never woke up?” 

He shakes his head, “Not once.”

She presses her lips together, love for him threatening to burst free. She knows all he was doing was trying to protect her from getting upset, something she would have yelled at him for just a few short months ago, but for a reason she can’t fully explain, it makes her love him more. She furrows her brow as her eyes meet his, one more thread of curiosity she was yet to pull at coming to mind. 

“Why 15 minutes?” She asks, and he looks at her curiously, “Why did you give yourself 15 minutes in the morning? It takes maybe 20 seconds to get from here to our room and you’ve never been someone who needs time to get going.”

He clears his throat, embarrassment he doesn’t expect filling his chest, “Well,” he says, avoiding eye contact, as if he should feel any kind of shame for how much he loved her, “I missed sleeping next to you. So I used that time to just…hug you.” 

His admission hangs over them for a moment and a smile breaks out across her face, her gaze drifting to her side of the bed, to where his arm had been lying when she’d first walked in. “Okay, now we’re definitely edging into this being the sweetest shit you’ve ever done for me.” 

He laughs, “Really? You’re not mad?”

She shakes her head and cups his cheek, dragging him into a quick kiss, “I’m not mad. I wish you’d told me. And if there are any recordings of me snoring on your phone you’re never having sex again,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him, “But I understand what you were trying to do. It’s sweet.” 

He leans in and kisses her, resting his forehead against hers as he pulls back, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she replies, stamping a kiss against his lips, “I’ll buy some of those snoring strips in the morning, see if they help. If they don’t…just make sure you keep giving yourself those 15 minutes, okay? I like waking up with you there.” 

“I promise.” He kisses her nose, laughing when she scrunches it up, “Want to go back to bed, or shall I make us some hot chocolate?” 

She hums, the sound turning into a laugh when the baby kicks, “I think she wants hot chocolate.” 

He stands up and offers her his hand, helping her up and wrapping his arms around her  shoulders as he leads her to the stairs, “Whatever my girls want, they get.” 

-x-

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[dystopicjumpsuit]

I loved to read "The Protector of Chopper Base". There is barely anyone out there writing for Fenn Rau. Ahdhsh you make me so happy

May I request #7 with Fenn Rau <3

A/N: Hi @f-e-y-x! OMG, I screamed with joy when I got this request! I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me; I love Fenn Rau, and I’m so excited to meet other people who also love his character! Thank you so much; you’ve made my entire week better. The prompt is "falling asleep in each other's arms."

Pairing: Fenn Rau x Reader (GN; has hair)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 507

Warnings and tags: fluff; post-coital cuddles; very suggestive dialogue

Summary: Privacy is scarce at Chopper Base, but you and Fenn Rau steal a quiet moment alone in the night.

Suggested Listening: 

This fic smells like: Sonoran Bloom by TokyoMilk (Petrichor, Saguaro Flower, Agave, Red Clay)

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“I don’t recognize any of these stars,” you murmured. “The sky looks so different on my homeworld.”

“Mm.” You felt the vibration of Fenn’s voice in his chest as you rested your head on his shoulder. He shifted slightly, pulling you closer as he pointed to the sky with his free hand. “There is Bari.” His hand shifted slightly. “And that one is Opoku. Avindia. Rama, and there is Altair.”

“How do you know them so well?” you asked.

“I’ve spent half my life studying star charts. I wouldn’t be much of a pilot if I couldn’t find my way in the galaxy.” 

His breath puffed tiny clouds that drifted across your vision as he spoke. Atollon was hot and arid, but the nights were cold. Feeling your body shiver, Fenn reached across to pull the bedroll more securely over your shoulders. The roof of a cargo container was not the softest or most comfortable bed imaginable, but it had a stunning view of the stars as the two of you lay tangled in each other’s arms. Despite the cloudless night sky, a heavy dew was beginning to settle on the parched red earth around Chopper base, and the dense mineral scent of petrichor hung in the air.

“I wonder if any of them have stories,” you mused.

“Hmm?” he asked quietly as he pressed his lips against your head, burying his face in your hair and breathing in deeply.

“On my planet, all the constellations have legends about them.”

“On Mandalore as well,” he said, his voice low and quiet as he spoke next to your ear. “Different constellations and different legends, but the same tradition.”

“Do you think that’s true of every planet?” you asked. “Do you suppose we all look to the stars and see stories to tell?”

“Perhaps,” he replied. “When we find ourselves in darkness, we look up to find the light.”

You smiled as you tucked your chilled face against his chest. “That’s much too philosophical for a man who was just inside me.”

He laughed quietly and rolled onto his side to pull you against him, wrapping you in his warmth. “I’m no philosopher. Just a simple soldier.”

“There is nothing simple about you, Fenn Rau,” you whispered, kissing his neck softly as your eyes grew heavy. “And I would listen to you philosophize all night.”

“Bold words for someone who is falling asleep as we speak.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you yawned. “Wide awake.”

“My mistake.” His large hand cupped the back of your head as he kissed your forehead with a tired, contented sigh. “Shall we go inside?”

“Hm-mmm,” you mumbled. “I want to sleep with you tonight, and the barracks beds are too small to fit us both. Let’s stay up here.”

“It’s cold, my love,” he whispered. “Are you certain?”

“I am. Will you tell me one of the stories about the Mandalorian stars?”

“A bedtime story?” he chuckled. “Very well. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....”

---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out these lists of prompts for some ideas!Want more Fenn Rau? Here’s a fluffy first kiss ficlet.

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[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas 4: Frosty the Snowman

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 15,660

Rating: M. language. Some thoughts/mentions of sex.

Summary: In the week following the trivia event, you and Din navigate your newfound friendship.. but a setback before the cookie decorating contest might change everything. 

Author’s notes:

So I am still blown away by the response to this story. This chapter is EXTRA long, but it’s definitely important. 

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open! 

*special thanks to Alyssa (@the-blind-assassin-12) for the reminder about a Din-specific phrase that I was able to work into this chapter.

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares​ and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Thank you to everyone that’s showed interest in this so far.

Mando’a translations at the end!

Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The Thursday after trivia night, you woke up with a pounding headache two hours before your alarm was set to go off. 

Stumbling into your bathroom took an endless amount of effort, and when you flipped the light on, you immediately hissed out at the brightness, turning it off again and then blindly clawing for the bottle of migraine pills in the cabinet. 

You dry swallowed three of them and then hurried back into bed, pulling the blanket all the way over your head, groaning. I don’t need this today. 

You didn’t get severe headaches often, but when you did get them, they were terrible unless you caught them early, and all you could do as you rolled onto your side, burying half of your face in the pillow was hope that it was early enough to keep this headache from becoming worse. 

It only took you a few minutes  to fall back asleep, and the last thought that you had before you were out again was that for the first time since you’d broken up with James, you wished that someone was in the bed with you, even if only to provide the comfort of their presence. 

— 

When your alarm went off, the headache was still there but nowhere near as bad, and though you contemplated calling out of work to sleep, you opted not to. I have too much to do today. There’s no way I can call out. 

By lunch, you were regretting your decision. The headache was still there - lingering at the base of your skull, dull but ever-present, and it was difficult to concentrate on the things you needed to do. The numbers on your spreadsheets blurred together, the body of every email that you read swam in front of your eyes, and you’d had to pop another pair of the pills you’d taken that morning just to get through the first half of the day. 

Aside from the headache, you felt fine - and it was frustrating, because all you wanted was to feel better, to get through the day, and make it some so that you could crawl back into bed and sleep it off. Because I have to be better for this weekend. 

Rubbing at your eyes, you stood from your desk and moved to the window, twisting the  wand on your blinds to darken the room further. Instead of going to get food, you’d decided to take a nap in your office on your break, but before you could settle in on the small couch, there was a knock on your door - and you couldn’t hold back your groan at the sound. 

“Whoa, why’s it so dark in … are you alright? You don’t look great.” Cracking one eye open, you watched Din stride into the room and head over to you, the man pulling your desk chair out so that he could sit down in it, leaning forward and reaching out with one hand for you. “Are you sick? You look tired, and -”

“I have a headache.” Mumbling the words, you sat straight up and forced both of your eyes all the way open. “It’s not as bad as it was this morning, but I already took pills, and they’re not helping.” 

“You should go home.” He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, and you knew you didn’t feel well when you leaned into his touch, groaning as he pulled his hand away. “You aren’t warm, so there’s no fever. Do you get these a lot? I don’t think you’ve missed much work since I’ve been here, but…”

“You noticed?” That brought a smile to your face, Din’s return one small but still there. “I get them a couple times a year. Mostly when the weather changes. This one came out of nowhere, though.” 

He was still sitting directly in front of you, legs spread and his hands hanging between them. “I really think you should go home. I’m sure your manager wouldn’t try to keep you here. You’re obviously sick, and not faking it.” 

“I would love that.” The idea of your bed was enough to make you weepy, but the fact that you’d need to get there wasn’t going to be an easy thing to manage. “But I’ll just nap here for an hour, and then see how I feel.”

“You can’t drive like this, you can barely keep your eyes open.” 

“I’ll call an Uber.” Mumbling the words, you covered your eyes. “Din, I appreciate you worrying about this, but I’ll be fine. I just need to lay down for an hour, and then I can finish my -” You took a deep breath and forced your eyes open again, trying to focus on the man. “My day.” 

You swayed on the couch, and Din’s hands shot out to steady you, the man holding onto your biceps and saying your name. “Lay down. I’m going to go talk to your boss, and tell him I’m taking you home.” 

“Din, no.” You groaned, but let him ease you down and onto your side on the couch. “I’m f-”

“If you tell me you’re fine, I’m going to have to call you a liar.” Peeking at him, your lips twitched into a small smile. “And I don’t want to call you that.” He stood, smoothing the legs of his pants and then crossed his arms. “Give me five minutes, alright?” 

You wanted to argue, but chose not to because the thought of being snug in your bed hours before you’d planned on it made you feel almost giddy. So you whispered the word “OK” and closed your eyes all the way, lifting one arm to cover your eyes and make it even darker. 

You heard the sound of his footsteps receding and then the door closing, and must have drifted off, because the next thing you knew, Din was back and saying your name quietly, his mouth inches from your ear. “Hey, can you sit up?” Humming in reply, you lowered your arm and pushed with that hand, both of the man’s steadying you as you moved yourself upright. “You’re good to go home for the rest of the day, and your boss said that if he doesn’t hear from you tomorrow and you don’t show up, that’s fine. I guess he gets migraines too?” 

You knew that was the case - Dereck had tried multiple treatments to manage his, but nothing worked, and you were immensely grateful to him and to Din for going to him. You told him as much, standing and swaying slightly, as he continued to hold onto your arm. “But I’ll order a ride. You don’t need to take me and waste your lunch hour.

“What kind of competition partner would I be if I let you do that?” He let go of you, turning to reach for your coat. “Besides, I can stop on my way back for something and eat at my desk. It’s no big deal.” 

It wasn’t worth trying to argue with him, and so a few minutes later, after Din had shut down your computer and made sure you had everything you needed in your bag, the two of you were walking out through the hallway and toward the parking lot, Din next to you but not touching you. 

“How am I going to get to work tomorrow if you drive me home?” The cool outdoor air made you a little more alert, and you slowly turned you head toward him, frowning. “My car will be -”

“I can pick you up if you need me to.” He shrugged, touching you elbow to guide you toward where he’d parked. “Not a big deal, you’ll just have to let me know if you’re coming in or not. And if you decide not to, we can come get your car before we go to the community center on Saturday.” 

It made sense, so you said nothing, blinking at the early afternoon daylight - but when you stopped in walking, you couldn’t stay quiet. “This is what you drive, Din?” 

“Yeah, it’s not much but it … I needed a way to get around when I got here, and I saw her on a lot, and kind of … fell in love.” 

“No, I like it. I just thought…I don’t know. You didn’t strike me as the truck type.” You smiled at the sight of it, taking a few steps closer and reaching out to touch the hood. “Early 2000’s?” 

“Yeah, it’s 20 years old, but it was in pretty good shape.” He unlocked the doors, resting his elbows on the hood. “There’s a bench seat in the back, if you wanted to lay down, but you can sit in the front if you want.” 

“You’re being so nice.” You eyed the truck again, taking a longer breath and holding it. “I like the decals, by the way.” 

“It came like that.” He grinned at you, shrugging. “Silver and yellow? Weird combo, but it grew on me. Now get in and tell me your address.” 

Giving the outside of the truck one more look, you opened the passenger door and climbed in, immediately sinking into the plush front seat as Din settled next to you. “I really appreciate this, Din.” Sighing, you closed your eyes and then buckled in. “I only live about fifteen minutes away so you’ll have plenty of time to get food and get back.” 

“We’ll see.” He started the truck and then twisted the heater knob, making sure that it wasn’t blowing frigid air onto you. “Address?” 

You told him, and the next thing you knew, you felt headrest of your seat move, Din using it to steady his hand as he backed out of the parking spot. 

Despite being an older vehicle, the truck didn’t feel old while you were sitting in it - the ride smooth and comfortable, Din confident and capable behind the wheel. He didn’t talk much, either, content to let you sit in silence next to him. 

“I owe you, Din.” You finally spoke when you opened one eye and caught sight of the mall that was around the corner from your house. “You really didn’t have to do this.” 

“I know, but I wanted to.”  He cleared his throat. “I know you’re going to tell me no, but I’m going to make sure you get into your house and to your room. It’ll make me feel better about leaving to go back to work.” Of course you are. 

“That’s… I appreciate that.” 

Neither of you said anything else until he pulled into your driveway and put the truck in park. “Let me have your keys, I’ll go and unlock the door so you can walk right in.” 

“Din I really am feeling better, I can…” But when you leaned forward to grab for your purse, you swore and squeezed your eyes shut as another wave of dizziness overtook you. “They’re in the main zipper pocket.” He took the bag from you and you heard the sound of keys moments later, followed by the gust of cold air when he opened his door to get out. 

After it closed and you peeked enough to see him pass in front of the truck, you groaned loudly, raising one hand to cover your face. 

Not only were you sick in front of the man, but you came off as helpless, needing him to drive you home and get you into the house. “Just because of a stupid headache.” Wetting your lips, you groaned again. “This is so damn…” 

You trailed off when he opened your door, saying your name. “Go ahead and unbuckle. Door’s open. You’ll be in bed and rid of me in less than five minutes.” 

In too much pain to deny him, you unbuckled your seat belt and let him help you out of the truck, not even bothering to try and push him away when he wrapped an arm around your back to steady you on the short trip from the driveway to your front door. 

His body was solid next  to yours, the weight of him comforting, and for a brief moment, you contemplated asking him to stay, though it passed quickly when you remembered that he was going back to the office. He’s done enough, and you can’t ask that because you’re not there yet. And you might never be. The thought was sobering, even as the door shut behind you and the familiar scent of your living room wax melter filled your nose. “Is your room upstairs or down?”

“Up.” Turning in the direction of the stairs, you forced your eyes all the way open so that you could climb them - Din directly behind you with one hand pressed to the center of your back to steady you. You stayed quiet until you were in your room, slipping your shoes off and settling down onto the bed. “Can you close the blinds?” 

You hated asking him - hated how weak your voice sounded with the request, but he moved right away, reaching for the drawstring and lowering them, the room getting darker. He pulled the curtains closed then, and even with the light spilling in from the hallway, you breathed a sigh of relief at just how dark the room got, the pain in your head decreasing slightly. “Anything else?” He turned to face you again, one hand on his hip. “There medicine in your bathroom? I can grab you a bottle or a glass of water or -”

“Din I really think I just need to lay down. It’s better now that I’m home and it’s dark, and you’ve already done enough.” Rubbing at your forehead, you smiled up at him. “I’ll take another dose when I wake up later. I want to see if things are any better.” 

He eyed you for a few seconds and then nodded, crossing the room to stand in front of you. “Text me later? Or if you need anything?” 

“I will.” He reached out again, the back of his hand resting against your forehead for a second time, and even though it wasn’t as much of a shock, you still leaned into his touch, eyes closing again at the warmth of his skin. “And I can just get a ride in to work tomorrow, don’t worry about coming back here.” 

“We’ll see.” He said your name as he backed away, hand moving back to his side and then disappearing into his pocket. “Your keys are on the table next to the front door, and I’ll lock it behind me when I leave, alright?” 

“Mmhmm.” Taking a deep breath in through your nose, you pressed the heel of your hand to your forehead. “Really, Din. Thank you. I hate admitting I’m sick, and -”

“Just get some sleep. I need you this weekend.” That got a smile out of you - and it matched the one on his face. “I mean it, if you need anything, I’ve got nothing going on after work.” 

“Just Grogu.” He nodded. “Hope the rest of your day is less eventful than this.” He laughed, the sound quiet and headed for your door - pausing with his hand on the knob. 

“Open or shut?” 

“Go ahead and close it.” He said nothing else and you watched as he stepped through the door, pulling it shut behind him - and when he disappeared from view, you were stunned to feel a pang of sadness in your chest. “This is stupid. He had to leave.” You laid back on your bed, pulling the blanket over your body and then rolling back onto your side. He was never going to stay. 

But part of you wondered if he would have - if you’d asked. 

— 

When you woke up later that night, you felt much better - and were able to get out of bed and into your bathroom, swallowing down another dose of pills and then making your way back downstairs to grab your phone. 

The keys were where he’d said he would leave them, and your bag was on the kitchen table, the rest of the house silent in a way that you’d never really noticed before. Because it hasn’t been this quiet in years. 

You and James had spent a lot of time in the house together, the sound of the radio or your voices filling the space, and that night - in the early evening darkness - the absence of noise was deafening. 

So you changed that - turning the radio in the kitchen on as you began to look for something to eat, choosing to use the softer over-oven lighting instead of the brighter ceiling light fixture to illuminate the space. 

The headache returned the longer you were on your feet, but it was nowhere near as bad as it had been earlier, and you figured that after you ate, you’d feel even better. I have to. I caught it early enough, and I’m doing everything that I can to fix it. 

Your meal finished, you changed into your pajamas and flipped the switch for your tree before you settled onto the couch, unlocking your phone and finding three messages from Din. 

Hope you got some sleep. 

And that you feel better.  

I meant it about tomorrow morning, just let me know. 

The smile that tugged at your lips was genuine, and after spending a few long seconds staring at the brightly lit tree in the corner of your living room, you decided to message him back. 

I did sleep, and I feel a little better. Headache isn’t gone, but I just ate dinner. We’ll see what happens. 

You didn’t expect a reply, but got one only a few minutes later, his message brief. 

Good. I’m glad to hear it.  

But that didn’t answer his last message, and so with a sigh, you set out to do that, typing and erasing multiple times before you came up with something that you were happy with. 

I think I’m going to take the day off tomorrow. I can have Stacy take me to grab my car tomorrow afternoon, but I appreciate the offer. 

He started typing back and then stopped three times before sending a response to you, and with a frown, you set your phone down, unable to figure out exactly what tone he’d meant to convey with it. 

Whatever you want to do - it’s up to you. 

And so you sent back a final message before putting your phone down, chewing on your lower lip. 

Thank you again for earlier. I appreciate you helping me out. 

There wasn’t an answer, but when the little “thumbs up” emote popped up next to the message, it made you smile. 

— 

By the following afternoon, you were happy that you’d chosen to take the day off. 

The headache had intensified in the middle of the night - turning from a nuisance to a full blown migraine, and you’d spent the last few hours of the night and most of the morning in bed with the blanket completely covering your entire body. This is bullshit. 

You’d made yourself a black coffee, hoping that he caffeine would help, but it hadn’t done much, only reminding you that you were insanely hungry and had very little in the house grocery-wise, since Thursday night was the night you usually stopped after work. Of course.

So you chewed on some crackers, and thought about turning the brightness on your phone all the way down and making a delivery order… but were interrupted by a knock on your front door, the sound startling you.

You figured that it was Stacy, since you’d messaged her earlier about needing to go and pick up your car, but when you opened the door, Din was standing on your porch, a paper bag in one hand his keys in the other. “Din? What are -”

“Your car was still at the office when I left, so I figured I’d stop on my way home and bring you something to eat.” He held up the bag, wrinkling his nose. “You want some soup?” 

Shaking your head and laughing, you invited him in and Din followed you into your kitchen, setting the bag down on your counter while you reached into one of the cupboards for a bowl. “First you drive me home from work and literally put me to bed. Now you’re bringing me soup because you know I feel like shit. Who are you, Din Djarin, and where did you come from?” 

“Well, you’ve been to my house, so you know where I -”

“That’s not what I mean.” Pouring some of the steaming liquid into a bowl, you held up the container. “You going to help me eat this?” 

“If you want.” He stepped next to you, picking up the bowl and carrying it to the table. “I’ll come back and get mine, hold on.” Seconds later, he was next to you, picking up the second bowl and heading back to the table, you following with two spoons. 

“How did you know what to get me?” As you settled into one chair, Din took a seat across from you, shrugging. 

“I went to that place everyone at work orders from, and when I went in, I asked them if there was something you usually got.” Smart. That’s really smart. “And here we are.” 

You took a few bites, letting the warmth of the meal fill you, but when you were about halfway done, something occurred to you. “Wait, Din… if you went on your way home, then that means Grogu’s …”

“I might have lied about that.” He set his spoon down and leaned back in his chair. “I went home after work and let him out and then I came here.” But that means he had to backtrack, and it was out of his way, and … “Sorry about that.”

“No, don’t apologize, but if you need to get home, don’t let me …” Licking your lips, you shook your head. “I’m doing much better. This is the longest I’ve been upright in 24 hours, and I think I’m just going to take a shower when you leave and relax for the rest of the night, that way I’ll be 100% for tomorrow.” 

“You still want to go?” He leaned in, picking the spoon back up. “If you don’t feel good, we can -”

“No, we’re not sitting it out. It’s cookie decorating, Din, it’s not manual labor.” He cracked a smile at that, lifting the bowl from the table and tilting  the rim of it toward his mouth. You watched him without shame - eyeing the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed, skin taut over the muscles of his neck. It was difficult to look away, but as he lowered his bowl, you did, stirring what was left in yours with the spoon. “You know, you’re the first person to come over and eat since … since I’ve been single.” 

“Yeah?” He used his thumb to wipe his lips dry, the motion drawing your attention again. Does he know he’s doing this? He has to. “Well that wasn’t the plan, but I’m not going to complain.” 

“Plan? What do you mean?” Din narrowed his eyes, leaning forward.

‘I’ll forgive you this time for not noticing because you weren’t feeling well, but I came to your office yesterday for a reason.” Oh. That made sense - though he’d stopped in unannounced earlier in the week on his way to install a hard drive in someone’s computer, that had been a short visit made in passing. Yesterday was different. 

“What was the reason?” You got up from the table and reached for his bowl, taking it - along with yours - to the sink and running water into them before you turned back toward Din. “Because I’m sure whatever the reason was, it wasn’t to play taxi service.” 

“It wasn’t.” He didn’t get up, though he linked his fingers together on the tabletop. “I was going to ask if you wanted to use our prize from last week tonight. I figured the closer it gets to Christmas, the busier you’ll be with friends and family stuff, and I didn’t want to intrude.” 

You felt your eyes widen at his admission, feet freezing in place. Oh, that… The two of you hadn’t settled on anything definite after your trivia win - it was clear that you’d asked him out and wanted to spend time with him, but you’d decided to play it by ear and pick a day that worked best for both of you. “Din, I’m sorry I ruined your plan. I would have loved to -”

“You didn’t ruin anything. I’m here with you right now, aren’t I?” He stood then, heading over to where you stood, though he stopped with distance between the two of you. “And I’m glad you let me bring you home yesterday, too. You needed it.” 

“My knight in shining armor.” You made the joke, holding out your hand toward him and gesturing to the coat that he’d worn in, the garment hanging over the back of a kitchen chair. “I -”

“Prince, actually.” He grinned, tilting his head to the side in the way you were becoming accustomed to. “Not a knight, but …”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You winked at him, moving away from the sink and back toward the table. “We don’t have those here.” But I could see it. Sitting back down in your chair, you said his name and watched as Din turned to face you - a fleeting look of unease in his eyes before it was replaced with his typical neutral expression. “I would have said yes, though. To dinner and a movie.” Checking the time, you quickly turned your attention back to the man. “It’s still early. I’m sure there’s a movie we could catch, and you could drop me off at my car on the way back.” 

“No. Not tonight.” He stepped closer, head shaking back and forth. “I haven’t been on a da… out with anyone since I got here, so I want to do it right.” Wait, he hasn’t been out with anyone in eight months? How is that even possible? “And it’s still a little off because we won the prize, but…”

“The sentiment’s the same. I get it.” It wasn’t lost on you that he’d referred to it as a date at first - or that despite your offer to go that night, he wasn’t trying to rush it, even though it was clearly something you both wanted. “How about next week? I’m going shopping with Cara and Stacy before the snowman thing, but I’m free Friday and Sunday all day, if you are.”

“I am.” He slid into the chair across from you again, eyes locked with yours. “D’you want to go get dinner and see a movie with me next Friday?” He ended the question with a broad smile, and despite the lingering pain at the back of your head and the fact that you were tired from not feeling well, you returned it, nodding. 

“I do. Very much.” He looked relieved that you’d agreed, but that expression didn’t last long on his face before excitement took over, the man’s brown eyes glinting. 

“Wizard.” At your confused reaction he waved you off with one hand, laughing. “It’s just something we say at home. It means … cool or awesome or -”

“I get it.” Eyeing him, you shook your head slowly. “You’ve got a lot of different phrases, Din. Womp rat, dank farrik, wizard… and the way you trained Grogu in a different language? One of these days, you’ll have to tell me more about yourself and where you grew up, because it sure as hell wasn’t anywhere around here.”

“One of these days.” He winked at you, glancing down at his watch. “Do you want me to take you to get your car now, before it gets too late?” You did - you needed to go to the grocery store the following morning, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to leave, especially since if you hadn’t gotten the headache, you would have been spending hours with him that night. Don’t push your luck. 

“Sure. Let me go change clothes, and -”

“Why?” He frowned. “You look fine. We’re just going to the parking lot at work.” You didn’t have an answer for him, and so you just agreed, telling him you did need to switch out your slippers for actual socks, and that you’d be right back. 

As you headed up the stairs and into your room, you were dreading looking into the mirror - sure that after barely doing anything earlier in the day, you’d look a mess. But I don’t… I don’t look terrible. 

Sure, your hair was a little messy, and you looked tired, much less put together than you were at work or had been on trivia night or when you’d gone to Din’s place, but it wasn’t bad. Fighting the urge to change clothes and fix your hair, you pulled socks on and went back downstairs, Din still sitting at your table with his eyes on his phone. “All set, Din. Just need shoes and a coat.” 

He stood, following you back into the living room, and when you’d slung the strap of your bag over one shoulder, keys and phone inside, you led him into the driveway, shivering at the chill in the air. “It got much colder today, I hit some ice on the drive in to work.”

“You did?” He unlocked the door and you climbed in, taking a few seconds to look around the interior of the truck since your head wasn’t pounding. “I hope you have good tires on this thing, it can get slippery here, especially when there’s a bunch of snow.”

“She might not look like much on the outside, but like I said, I take care of her.” He patted the dashboard a few times before he twisted the key in the ignition and then moved his hand to the shifter knob, his fingers winding around the smooth metal surface. “Yes, I have good  tires.” It relieved you to hear it - not only because you were in the car with him, but because you didn’t like thinking of him possibly getting into an accident on unfamiliar roads. “What about you, do you get new tires in the winter?” 

“Actually, yeah. Stacy’s husband usually switches them out for me. I know how to do it and could if I needed to, but using the tire iron isn’t easy, and I’m always worried I won’t tighten them enough and then I’d be on the highway and one would fly off or something.” He laughed - the sound more like a snort, but it was quick, and then he spoke again, his voice quiet. 

“Can I be honest with you about something?” 

“Yes.” Turning your head and shifting your shoulders so that you could look at him, you waited. Din took his time, both hands on the steering wheel, his eyes forward and fixed on the road. What does he want to say? 

“I won’t go as far as saying that I’m glad you and James broke up because I’m not that much of an asshole, but I am glad that you being single means that we get to spend time together.” The interior of the truck was completely silent for ten seconds - you frozen in place and Din gripping the steering wheel tightly, eyes still focused forward. 

“I…” When you finally opened your mouth, you weren’t sure what to say, but at the sight of the muscles in his jaw flexing, the man clearly worried he’d overstepped, you spoke up, reaching over with one hand to touch his arm. “I’m glad we do, too.” He sucked in a breath, surprised that you’d reacted the way you had. But is he really, after last weekend? After today? “You’re so quiet at work, Din, I had no idea that this is what you were really like.” 

“I keep it hidden well.” Glancing over at you, he arched a brow. “Can’t tell everyone all of my secrets.” 

“I don’t know, Din, a whole bar full of people saw you singing along to Mariah Carey last weekend, I’d say that some people might have an idea that you’re a lot more fun than you let on.” 

“Dammit, you might be right.” He laughed again, making a turn down one of the side streets that led to your office building. “I should be more careful.” Humming quietly, you turned to look out the window, eyes on the lit up houses and buildings you were passing. “Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow? There’s no reason to take more than one car, right?”

“That works.” Or… “Or, since you’ve been driving me around the last two days, if you come to my house, I can drive to the community center.” 

“We could do that, too.” As you turned into the lot - empty aside from your car and one that belonged to the security guard, you gripped the strap of your bag tighter, chewing on your lower lip. 

It was easy with him - simple in a way that things hardly ever were for you and new people in your life. You still knew very little about him on a personal level, but what you did know seemed genuine, the man’s demeanor much different around you and in public than it was at work but not forced in any way. I’ll try and get him to open up tomorrow. There’s a lot of time for talking. “At least it didn’t snow today. My snow brush is in my garage, and it would have been a pain in the ass to clean my car without it.” 

“I would have helped.” Din put the truck in park, turning the top half of his body to face you. “Or I would have offered and you would have told me no… but I would have helped anyway.” 

“You know me so well.” Rolling your eyes, you reached over and pushed on his arm, head shaking back and forth. “I would have said no.”

“I don’t know you well.” He said your name, pausing after. “But I’d like to.” 

It was an opening - a clear one, the man more direct with you after two weeks of spending any time at all together than you’d expected - and you took it. I have to. 

“I’d like that too.” Lifting your hand up from where it rested - the armrest between your seats, you hesitated before you reached out, fingertips settling on his denim-covered knee. “And I meant what I said earlier, Din. I’d love to know more about you.” 

There was a flinch - small but visible thanks to light poles in the lot, but Din nodded, his eyes darting down to your hand. “We can start tomorrow.” He wet his lips and then cleared his throat. “What time do you want me over? Starts earlier than trivia did, so -” 

“It does, because there’s an event for the kids going on at the same time.” You left your hand in place, still looking over at him. “If you get to my house between 4:30 and 5, we should have plenty of time. There’s no food tomorrow, so if you want to stop on the way and get something, you can or we can on the way.” 

“Good to know. I’ll let you know tomorrow.” He dropped his hand and let it rest on top of yours, the weight of it grounding you. You didn’t know if it was an unconscious action on Din’s part, or if he was aware that he’d done it but you knew one thing: you didn’t want him to move it. Take another leap. 

“Din?” Your heart was beating rapidly, anxiety growing by the second - but you felt good, sure about what you wanted to say next. “You could come back over tonight. We could watch a movie or something, and -”

“No.” It was only one word but it turned you cold, the man’s reply immediate. “Not tonight.” Oh. Alright. “Hey.” He squeezed your hand, thumb slipping beneath your fingers. “I want to. But I don’t… I haven’t…” Save him. He’s not turning you down because he’s not interested - it’s something else. 

“That’s the second time tonight you’ve turned me down, Din. You’re gonna give a girl a complex.” He laughed at that, still holding your hand. 

“It would be only fair if you canceled last minute for next Friday.” He shrugged. “I should probably -”

“No way.” Taking another chance, you flipped your hand over, palm pressed to his. “I can wait a week, I just thought … I don’t know what I thought, Din.” Going silent, you finally looked away from him, your eyes locked on your joined hands. “I’m gonna go. Thank you again for … everything. Like I said, I owe you.” 

“You don’t owe me a damn thing.” He tightened his hold on your hand. “Get home safe, alright?” You assured him you would and then fished into your purse with your free hand, unlocking your car doors. “I’ll wait here and follow you out.” 

Telling him that that was fine, you pulled your hand back, though Din didn’t let it go right away. “Din I -” 

He said your name quietly, and when your eyes met his again, you saw longing in them, Din swallowing hard before he said anything else. “I’ve never done this before. Haven’t really dated much, so I’m not…”

“You’re doing fine.” You squeezed his hand again and then pulled yours away, fingers curling in toward your palm. “More than fine, actually.” 

You needed to get out of the truck and the longer you stayed, the harder it got. 

“Good. That’s good. Really good.” He lowered his head and inhaled, holding his breath. It was a change from the man you’d been spending time with - and altogether different from work-Din too, and it made you bold, your fingers uncurling before you pressed your hand against his thigh and leaned in, your lips finding his cheek and landing there - just above the scruff of his beard. 

And you lingered there for a few seconds before pulling back and sitting straight up, your hand reluctantly pulling away from his leg. “Goodnight, Din. Thank you again for -”

“You’ve got to get out. Right now.” He’s mad. I shouldn’t have done that. His head turned and he eyed you, the man breathing hard. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you, and I’ll be damned if the first time I do that is in the work parking lot when I can’t do it right.” 

You couldn’t help it - you laughed, the tension in the cab of the truck breaking immediately. “Alright, Din.” Hand moving to the door handle, you pushed it open, a blast of cold air hitting your skin and making you shiver. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“You will.” He was fighting back a smile - but so were you. And it’s for the same reason. “Goodnight, wero.” 

“What does that mean?” Wrinkling your nose with one foot on the ground, you stared back at him. “Din?”

“I’ll tell you later.” He grinned then, both hands back on the steering wheel, one finger pointing at the window. “Go.”  With a quiet laugh, you got out of the truck and headed for our car, hunched over slightly to combat the cold. 

He’d parked so that he was facing your vehicle, and when you climbed in, turning it on and letting it warm up, you finally let yourself look in his direction again. He was watching you through the windshields, his lips set into a tiny smile - and when you returned it, his grew into a grin, the man raising two fingers from the wheel in a silent acknowledgement. He likes me. He likes me and he likes me enough to take time with this and not rush, and… 

“He’s different,” you muttered to yourself as you leaned over, adjusting the passenger vents to redirect the warm air to your side. “And I appreciate that.” Straightening back up, you locked eyes with him again and put the car into drive, Din nodding once as you started to move. 

Like he’d promised, he followed you out of the lot, though when you turned right, he turned left - honking once as you separated. Watching his taillights in your rearview mirror, you let out a nervous laugh, pressing the fingertips of one hand against your forehead. 

“I’m in trouble.”

— 

There was no lingering awkwardness from the previous night when Din got to your house the following day, and you were glad. You’d been worried about it - worried that because you’d both said things that crossed a line and you’d then kissed him, that seeing the man in the light of day would have changed everything. And I don’t want that. 

So when he’d knocked and you opened the door, inviting him in, Din’s smile wide and contagious, you let out a sigh of relief. We didn’t screw it up. “I just need to grab a couple things from upstairs, give me a few seconds?” 

“Sure. Do whatever you need.” Din leaned against your kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.” Gesturing to yourself, you winked. “No sweatpants today, and I actually got things done this morning.” You pointed at the doorway. “If you want to go sit, you can. It won’t take me long.” 

You made quick work of finishing what you needed to do - one last look in the mirror upstairs, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull on socks, and brushing your teeth before you headed back down, Din no longer in the kitchen. 

Instead, he was standing in front of your lit up tree, both hands in his pockets. “Looks great.” He sighed, turning his head toward you. “We never had a tree like this growing up. Didn’t decorate much, either. That’s one of the things I like about being over here so much. Everyone … everyone goes all out for the holidays.”

“We do.” You moved to stand next to him, reaching out to adjust a few of the ornaments. “And I love having this thing up as early as possible every year. When I watch TV, this is the only light I use. It makes it cozy.” 

“I bet.” Looking over at you, Din nudged your arm with his elbow. “You’ll have to tell me the best place here to get a tree. Might grab a small one and some lights. I bet Grogu would love it.”

“He would.” You beamed at the thought of the dog sleeping beneath the twinkling branches, nose resting on his paws. “And I can do that. Or,” you continued as you turned toward him. “I can take you to get one. We’d need to use your truck, but -” 

“We could go Friday after work and before the movie?” He sounded hopeful, and when he met your gaze, you were surprised to see hesitation in his eyes. “It shouldn’t take too long, right?” 

“Right. You wouldn’t have time to decorate it then, but you have to let the branches settle anyway, so that would be good. And then you could decorate it Saturday or Sunday.”  

“Alright. Sounds good.” Din nodded. “You ready to go?” 

“I am.” You checked your watch and then looked over at Din again. “I know we both already ate, but did you want to stop for coffee on the way? They have it at the community center  - and hot cocoa, too, but it’s usually kind of weak, and -”

“And we need energy if we’re going to frost these cookies, right?” Right. “I like that idea.” 

Ten minutes later, the two of you were pulling into the drive-thru line at the downtown coffee shop, and Din was in the middle of a story about one of his oldest friends from home - Fennec - and how she’d sent him a message the previous day about winning a sharp-shooting competition. “I’m good. But she’s better. And she has to be, because of her job.” He swiped a hand over the back of his head, ruffling the hair there. “I love it here, don’t get me wrong. But I miss her sometimes. Her and the rest of my … friends.”

“I don’t blame you. You haven’t gone into much detail about them, but it seems… I don’t know. You all seem really close.” 

“Yeah. I’ve known them most of my life, and this past year is the first time I’ve really been … away.” He wet his lips. “Here, look. This is her.” As you waited to pull to the order screen, Din held his phone out and showed you a photo of a pretty dark haired woman - slightly older than you - holding what looked like a rifle in one hand and a medal in the other. “She takes it really seriously, but that’s just how she is.” 

“Yeah?” Inching up, you gestured to the screen. “What do you want, Din?” 

“Hot dark roast. Mocha.” Shifting, he reached for his wallet. “Here, let me -”

“No, I’ve got it.” You made your order, shivering slightly with the window down, and then closed it as you pulled away from the screen. “So Fennec… what does she do? You said she’s a good shot because of her job.”

“She’s…” He paused. “She’s a bodyguard. Does personal security.” Oh, I wasn’t expecting that. “It’s a surprise because she looks so non-threatening, but she… I wouldn’t want to get into it with her.” You laughed at that, still trying to figure out what to say. “You’d like her, though. I think. He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think… I think you’d like most of my friends.” 

“If they’re anything like you, I’m sure I would.” Glancing over at him, you shrugged. “Maybe if they come visit sometime, you can introduce me.” He’s the one that mentioned them, so it… my response is normal. 

“Definitely.” He laughed, holding his hand out and waiting for his coffee. “If they ever come visit. It’s not that simple for them to make the trip.” The more you learned about him from his offhand comments, the more intrigued you were. And he was telling you more - little by little - which was a good thing. “Thank you.” He sipped from the cup, large fingers wrapped around the brightly colored surface of it. “This place is kind of out of the way for me, so I usually just stop at the one by my house.” 

“Yeah, I like this place better, too.” You accepted your cup, thanking the woman in the window and then pulled away, lifting it to sip. “Are you ready for today? This is a lot less stressful than trivia.”

“Maybe for you.” He laughed, cutting it off with another drink. “I’m not the best with cooking.” 

“This isn’t actual cooking. It’s baking, and …” Eyes on the road, you shrugged. “And it’s not even baking. Like I said, we just decorate.” 

“Do we have to do all that complicated shit they do on TV? With the … icing and the little plastic bags and -”

“Yes. And no. They don’t expect us to be Food Network quality, but yeah… we do ice them. And we have to make a design based on the shape of cookie we get.” You were going by the previous year’s rules, but you figured it wouldn’t change much. “It won’t be Tina, but they’ll explain the way it works when we’re waiting.” 

“And what about the… gingerbread? Do we have to do that, too?” 

“No. It’s not mandatory. That’s set up so that we have something to do while they judge the cookies.” Turning into the parking lot of the community center, you found an empty space and eased into it. “ I’ve never actually made one of those here before. We always just … socialized while we waited.” 

“Well then we’re doing it this year. I want to be around for something you do for the first time.” Getting out of the car, Din waited until you circled it to stand next to him to say anything more. “If you want to.” 

“I want to.” You pointed, cup in hand, at the front doors of the building. “You ready?” 

“Yep.” Switching his coffee to his left hand, Din reached for you with his right, raising an eyebrow. “Are you?” 

There wasn’t any hesitation before you took his hand, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing - his palm dwarfing yours. “I am.” 

— 

Unlike for trivia, there weren’t assigned seats, and so after checking in, you and Din found an empty table and sat, removing your coats and getting comfortable. There was a large basket in the center of it that was tied with a bright green ribbon, and another smaller box that had a gold bow on it next to the first. “Bet we can’t touch those yet, right?” He pointed at the boxes,  sighing. “I have a bad feeling about what’s in them.” 

“The big one is probably cookie decorating supplies.” You sipped your coffee. “Frosting and sprinkles and napkins and paintbrushes and all that.” You arched a brow. “Glitter and gold flake and -”

“We have to use all those things?” He sounded worried and you laughed it off, waving your hand. 

“No, they just give us options. It’s easier to do it this way than it is to have everyone rush a supply table. And whatever we don’t use, they give out to schools and daycare centers so the kids can decorate cookies even if they’re not here tonight.”

“OK, good. Because I can probably figure out how to frost a cookie, but adding all of that extra stuff… we don’t have enough time for that.” 

“It’s fine, Din.” Settling back into your chair, you looked around the room, watching as it filled. The kids were off in one of the smaller spaces, their own event already underway, and you watched as the members of the other 7 teams filed in, filling the tables around you. “So they always take extra teams for this.” You pointed at the other tables. “What they do here is we frost these cookies and then after they look over what everyone did and all of the cookies are set, they package them out into an even dozen. Every box gets one of every design, but since there aren’t always 12 teams…” 

“I like that.” He smiled, leaning closer. “How many cookies do we have to make?” This is where I lose him. 

“Um…” Taking a long drink of your coffee, you set it down and licked your lips, avoiding eye contact. “It changes every year, but it’s at least five dozen.” 

“Five dozen!” He nearly yelped, fingers tightening on his cup. “That’s 60 cookies. That’s -”

“I said at least, Din. It depends on how many people signed up to receive a box.” Laughing at the expression on his face, you reached forward, touching his hand. “And it’s not that bad since they’re all the same design, so…” 

Lifting his pointer finger, Din hooked it over yours, the man’s lips twitching. “That was a little loud, right?”

“Just a little.” Wrinkling your nose, you bit your lip. “We’ll figure it out. As soon as we know what design we have to do, we can make a plan.” He looked down, eyes on your hands for a brief moment before he spoke.

“You said the plans never work.” Leaning back, Din lifted the coffee cup, leaving your hand on the table. “So why would we -”

“Because we’re smart. We can come up with something that doesn’t suck.” He looked away, eyes widening, and before you could say anything else, he’d interrupted you.

 “Oh, this is interesting.” What? You turned your head to see where he was looking and barely concealed a roll of your eyes at the sight of Omera and another woman from work walking into the room and closer to where you sat. If it’s not one thing it’s another. 

“Hi, Din.” The woman stopped next to your table, smiling brightly at the man. “I had no idea you were doing the competition this year. You said you didn’t know if you wanted to.” 

“Yeah.” He let his gaze wander to you, where it lingered for a few seconds before he looked up again. “My partner here made a really compelling case for pairing up, and I couldn’t tell her no.” 

“Oh, yeah…” Omera’s attention turned to you, the smile she’d given Din changing into something decidedly less friendly. “You used to compete with your boyfriend, right? I thought I heard someone at the office talking about how you’re single now.” 

You wanted to react - wanted to snap at her and put her in her place… but you held your tongue - and the only reason for it was that Din was sitting across from you because he’d chosen to. He turned her down and turned someone else down and… didn’t turn me down. “I did. And when I ended things at the end of October, I lost my competition partner, and Din was kind enough to join me.” 

“And we won last week.” He spoke up, a smug tone to his voice. “We kicked ass at trivia, and got a great prize.” Din said your name, your attention going back to him. “How much was it on that gift card?”

“No specific amount.” Hiding your smile by taking another drink from your cup, you gave your head a minute shake in Din’s direction, his eyes locked with yours. Oh, I see what you’re doing. Much like he had with James, he was telling Omera everything in very few words, making it unmistakable that he understood what she was trying to do… and that he wasn’t going to stand for it. “It’s just dinner and a movie, whatever that ends up costing.” 

“Ah.” He sighed. “Well, still. It’s a good prize, right?” 

“Right. Sure.” Omera’s tone changed, the woman looking to her friend and then at you, her gaze sharp. “Well enjoy it. I’m… sure you’ll have a good time.” 

“We will.” Din cleared his throat. “Thanks, Omera.” There wasn’t much more to say, and so the two women headed to an empty table, leaving you and Din alone. “Her friend’s the other one that asked me.” He leaned in. “I wonder if she knows.”

“Probably.” They probably bet to see which of them he’d say yes to. “But if she was that rude to me about it, I can’t imagine that she would have been any happier for Tanya, either.” 

“She knew damn well I was here with you. My name’s on the site with yours, and I’m sure she checked it.” You agreed with him but didn’t have a chance to reply because one of the community center employees took the stage, the room going quiet. “OK, Din. Rule time.” 

He turned his entire chair toward the stage, leaning in and letting his hands dangle between his knees. “Welcome to the second event of this year’s Christmas competition.” The man onstage grinned, eyes scanning the room. “Ready to decorate some cookies?” 

There were polite cheers and claps from throughout the room, and after they died down, the man continued. 

“There are two boxes at the center of your tables. The larger one contains everything you need to make the perfect cookies. Frosting, icing, sprinkles, edible glitter, candy .. it’s in there.” He held up a finger. “As soon as I finish explaining the rules, my assistants will bring your cookies around to your tables. The shapes - like always - are randomized, and you won’t know what you’re getting until you open the boxes.” He paused and you looked at Din, the man concentrating hard, brow furrowed. 

You’d seen him looking that way before - working on someone’s computer at work, as well as for a few minutes at the trivia competition - and you smiled at the sight, resting your chin on your hand. He is so fucking handsome. The thought came to you unbidden, but you didn’t try to deny it, instead letting yourself look at him and enjoy the view. Why not? 

“This year, we have seven dozen cookies per team, with a few extras in a separate box just in case something happens and you need to replace one or two.” Seven dozen? That’s almost 90 cookies. “You’ll have three hours to complete the designs and arrange them in groups of 12, to make the counting easier on us.” He pointed. “There are 7 tables set up along the far wall, and when you finish, you’ll deliver one dozen to each of those tables so that we can look them over.” 

“Ninety cookies.” Din muttered the words, looking back over his shoulder at you. “That’s a lot.” 

“It is.” You had to admit that you were worried, too. “Maybe we’ll get the round ornaments. Or the candy canes. That’s easy, right?” He let out a long breath and covered his face with his hands. Yeah, that’s about how I feel, too. 

“Remember, this isn’t a race, and you’re not judged on who finishes first. But all of the designs need to be the same on your cookies, and we will look for the similarities of those designs when we’re deciding the winners.” He grinned. “So pick something that you can easily repeat, because these cookies do need to be finished within the allotted time.” 

“We can do this, Din.” Drumming your fingers on the tabletop, you sighed. “We’ve got -”

“The second box on your table is our little gift to you.” What? “Inside, you’ll find holiday themed aprons to wear today - and to keep, because we know that these cookies can get messy.” Oh, I wasn’t expecting that. “Go ahead and open those now.” 

“Can I?” He reached for the box, a smile on his face. “Christmas aprons?”

“Of course.” You pushed it forward, Din grabbing the package and pulling it toward him. “And you can choose first.” 

He pulled the box open and then laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh, these are … wow.” 

The first was a standard Santa apron - bright red with the white fur trim and a puffy golden belt buckle that sat around the middle. But the second actually made you laugh - an elf costume, complete with tiny little legs printed on the front of it, red and white striped tights and curly-toed shoes on the feet. “Oh.” Holding back a snort, you covered your mouth. “Well, which one do you want?”

“I think you should wear the Santa one.” He held it out to you. “Because it comes with this.” Reaching back into the box, he held up a fur-trimmed Santa hat. “And because I want to wear this.” Din pulled a second hat from the box-  a dark green one with bells attached to it, a puffy red pom pom at the tip. “You’re already going to tell me what to do with these cookies, so why not make it official?”

“You want me to wear this and boss you around like Santa does his elves?” He nodded slowly, his expression serious. “Din, I think that might say a lot more about you personally than in relation to cookies, but we don’t have time to get into that right now, so…” He laughed then, and you stood, circling to take both things from him. “Fine. You can be my elf for the night.” 

As you settled the apron over your body, you reached behind yourself to tie it tightly, smoothing your hands over the front. “Looks good.” He stood, too, putting on the second apron and you laughed when he did, the sight of it hilarious because you knew just how broad he was beneath the thin material despite the fact that it was printed to make him look tiny. “What, you don’t like it?” Frowning, he tugged the hat onto his head, cocking it to the left and making the bells jingle. “I think it’s great.” 

“No, Din. It’s perfect.” And it was - if you hadn’t known any better, you never would have been able to tell that it was his first American Christmas, or that he’d just been introduced to the concept of festive aprons five minutes earlier. “You look …” 

There were plenty of words that you could have used, but instead you settled on just winking at him and circling back around to your seat, hands flat on the table. It didn’t take long for one of the assistants to reach your table with their wheeled cart, Din standing almost immediately to help her with the large container of cookies. 

As he settled it onto the tabletop, you saw the blush creeping over the girl’s cheeks, the teenager thanking him quietly before she moved on to the next table. “You’ve got another fan, Djarin.” Catching his eye, you sipped from your almost empty cup. “See? It pays to be a gentleman.” 

“Does it? He gripped his neck, eyeing you. “I’ll remember that.” 

The organizer got back onto the stage a few moments later, tapping the mic to draw everyone’s attention. “Alright, teams. If you’d please go ahead and open your cookie containers, you’ll have five minutes to plan before the decoration begins.”

Din reached for the lid and you stood again, moving back to his side of the table and peering down. “I don’t know if you’re religious, Din, but right now I’m praying for the -” Shit.

You hadn’t gotten the round ornaments. You hadn’t even gotten the Christmas tree shapes or the candy canes. “Seriously?” The man’s eyes rose, locking with yours. “Not the star or the mittens? We could have even been alright with the gingerbread men. We had to get the -”

“Snowflakes.” Covering your eyes with one hand, you breathed the word out. “We got the snowflakes.” 

“OK, so what do we do?” He sounded panicked and you lowered your hand quickly, reaching into the box for one of the cookies. “Just make them white? Use sprinkles?” 

“Give me a second.” You pulled one of the extra chairs over, dropping into it - and right next to him, cookie still in hand. “We have to add frosting or icing. And there has to be some sort of design, so no, we can’t just do a white cookie with sprinkles.” But we can do white. We can … Din said your name, the man reaching over and touching your shoulder. “It’s ok, Din, just …” Biting down hard on your lip, you took a deep breath. 

“How are you so calm?” He scooted closer, his voice quiet. “We have 90 cookies to -”

“Because even if we don’t win, Din, it doesn’t matter. We just might not … this might not be our event.” And we probably won’t, because… You turned the cookie over in your hand, still thinking. “We shouldn’t be stressing. They’re cookies. No one’s will be perfect.” 

“I still want them to look good.” Din’s pointer finger bounced on the tabletop, “What if we frosted them in one color and then used a different color on top of that?” That could work. 

Setting the cookie down, you eyed it. “What if …” Pointing at the basket, you sighed. “What if we used like a really pale blue and then a darker blue or a white … or maybe both to make the actual snowflake shape on top?” You licked your lips. “And then we could add some of the tiny sugar crystals on top right before the icing gets too hard?” 

“You want me to use multiple colors? On these cookies? I …” Din’s head whipped back and forth, his eyes wide. “There’s no way.” 

“I think you can do it.” Reaching over and laying your hand flat atop his, you squeezed. “And you know what, Din? We might have lucked out. The designs have to be similar, but no two snowflakes are exactly the same, so we might have a little more slack than everyone else.” 

It took a second, but Din laughed, closing his eyes and letting out a long exhale through his nose as the sound trailed off. “I trust you. I’m going to need you to help me, but… I trust you.” 

“I’ve got you, Din. All we can do is start and see what happens.” He agreed, taking another deep breath. 

“So what’s our plan?” You knew that the time was winding down in your five minute session, and so you quickly explained what you wanted to do. 

“I’ll mix the icing colors while you get the other stuff ready.” Pointing at the basket, you went on. “Piping bags. Toothpicks. Glitter or the sugar, whatever you think will look best.” He nodded, the look in his eyes less crazed. “I’ll do the outline on the cookie shapes, and then you can follow after me, filling them.” 

“I can do that.” He nodded. “I can try to do that.” 

“You can.” You continued to squeeze his hand. “And then once we get all of them done that way, the very first ones will have had a chance to start hardening, which means we can add the second color - which will be the snowflake shape.” 

“The hard part.” Yes, Din. The Hard part. “Then what?”

“Then, we work our way through those, add the design, and then start moving them over with the last fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Not when we finish them? This table is small, they won’t all fit.” 

“They’ll have to.” You taking a long breath, you closed your eyes. “If we move them too fast, we might smudge or smear or tilt them, and then they’ll be ruined. We have to wait until the last possible second to move them, because then the icing will be somewhat set.” 

It was a risk - and you knew it - but it was the only way you could think of to ensure that your cookies would survive the trip from your table to the judging tables. “Alright.” Din sighed, the man onstage letting everyone know that the decoration phase was about to start. “You say it’s the right way? This is the way.” 

You hadn’t even opened your mouth to reply when a loud whistle sounded, signaling the start of your three hour time block.

— 

Just under an hour and a half later, you and Din had worked your way through outlining and flooding all of the cookies with a pale, icy blue and were focused on the white detailing. “You don’t need to squeeze hard, Din. You want a thin line, kind of like I did before I passed them off to you.” 

“OK.” He took a breath, pulling a practice cookie toward himself. “And I just follow this pattern?” 

“Yes.” You’d each taken a few minutes to draw a reference pattern for yourselves on paper, providing a visual guide while you worked through the cookies. “Six of each in each dozen.”

“So we each do three trays and then split the last one.” He was watching you closely, his elbow propped up on the table. “And when do we add the sugar?”

“Right before we switch them to the other table and new trays.” You pointed. “That way, the excess isn’t just piled up around them.” 

There was nothing else to say, and so Din leaned over, picking up the bag of white icing and placing the newly cut edge of the tip just above the surface of the cookie. “I’m going to fuck this up.” 

“You’re not.” closing your eyes as you tilted your head back, you took a deep breath. “I know you’re not.” He carefully trailed the icing over the surface of the cookie, and less than a minute later, Din leaned back in his seat, frowning.

“I think I did it.” Peering over at his design, you sucked in a breath, closing your fingers into a tight fist. 

“You did, Din!” The look of joy on his face was contagious, and when the man met your eyes and smile broadly, you couldn’t stop yourself from returning the expression. “Now you’ve only got 40 more to go.” The smile faltered but didn’t disappear, and to your surprise, Din only nodded, sliding the completed cookie onto an empty tray and reaching for the next. We can do this. 

… And an hour later, you still believed it, the two of you working steadily through your individual shares of cookies. 

You’d both messed up a couple of them, hissing through your teeth and groaning, the unusable snowflakes going onto a separate sheet and the extras replacing them without pause. 

There’d been one disaster for another team, a man and a woman trying to carry two trays each at a time to the tables - and like you’d predicted, it ended badly. “They always make extras.” You winced at the sight of splattered frosting on the floor, looking over at Din. “Everyone’s going to get their dozen, even if that happens multiple times.” 

He’d looked worried but kept at it, eyeing you briefly before returning to his cookies, and to your surprise, he’d finished his set before you, getting up from the table and sprinting toward the bathroom. 

You had five left to finish before you’d add the sugar to the tops of them, and figured that by the time Din returned, you’d be ready - or at the very least almost ready. “Hey.” He slid back into his seat, beckoning you closer. “I peeked as I walked by the other tables.” 

“And?” Your head close to his, you waited. “How do you think we -”

“The trees are really good. And the wreaths, too.” Jerking his thumb at Omera’s table, he wrinkled his nose. “They got candy canes, and they look good, but they’re simple.” Hmm. That might not be a bad thing though. “We have a chance, is what I’m saying.” 

“Good to know.” Rolling your shoulders back, you sighed. “Let me finish these, so we can get to the sugar.” 

He leaned back in his chair, pulling his phone out, and before you’d realized what he was doing, Din took a picture of you, bent over your cookies, though your eyes were still on him. “That’s a good one. I’m gonna send it to Fennec.” He showed you the screen, but before you got a good look, he’d turned it back to him, a smile on his face. “She can’t believe I’m doing this.” 

“Yeah?” Your cheeks were heating at the thought that his friends knew about you, but you tried to focus on the cookies, slowly piping the final designs onto the smooth surface. “Well now she’ll have to.” 

The last cookie done, you straightened up, putting the almost empty frosting cone down. “She will.” Din’s phone went back into his pocket, the man pointing at the basket. “Sugar?” 

“Sugar.” You reached for the gold and Din for the silver, and not even five minutes later, you were done and standing side by side, staring down at your cookies. “They look good, Din.” Arms crossed over your chest, you squinted down at them. “I’d eat them.” 

“I’m going to eat one of them.” He interrupted you, one hand held out toward the plate of messed up cookies. “Or maybe a few.” 

“If we get these to the tables without ruining them, you can eat as many as you want.” Checking your watch, you saw that  there was only 20 minutes left, meaning that you needed to start transferring. “Do you have steady hands?” Biting your lip, you shook your head. “Because I’m worried about moving these.” 

“Start combining the trays.” He reached over, laying a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” You were confused but did as he told you, carefully picking up and moving the cookies so that there were six of each design on a tray. You alternated their placement, the effect somewhat striking, and by the time Din returned, you were on dozen three, fingers turning the cookies into position. “Instead of carrying them, we’re going to wheel them over.” 

He’d brought back the cart that had delivered the cookies in the first place, and once again, you felt an overwhelming appreciation for the man’s thoughtfulness. “That’s perfect.” Head moving back and forth, you sighed. “That’s… you’re so smart.”

“Sometimes.” He loaded up the first three trays, leaning closer to you. “I’ll be right back.” 

You didn’t look after him as he wheeled away, instead continuing to re-plate the cookies, and so with five minutes to spare, the two of you had delivered all 7 dozen, Din taking the cart back to wherever he’d gotten it from and then returning to your side as you glanced down. “What’s our competition look like?” 

“Let’s go look.” He pointed, giving you a wide smile. “And then we can head over to the gingerbread houses.” You walked side by side over to the tables, both of you quiet. It’s alright if we don’t win. We tried. At the sight of all the cookies, you let out a gasp, followed by a quiet “fuck” under your breath. “Told you some of ‘em were good.” 

He hadn’t been lying. Your cookies weren’t the worst looking ones on the table, but you didn’t think that they were the best, either. “The trees are going to win.” Pointing at the cookies, you sighed. “The trees or the wreaths.” 

“Maybe.” Din reached over and took your hand. “We’ll see.” Yeah, we will. 

A few minutes later, the two of you were seated back at your table, all of the ingredients needed to make a gingerbread house in front of you. Instead of across from each other, you were side by side, Din’s eyes scanning everything laid out on the table. 

“This is easy, Din. Logical, right? Build the house, give it a few minutes to set, and then start decorating it.” Reaching for the icing, you gestured with the tip of the bag. “Want me to hold the cookies, or do you want to do it?” 

“I’ll…” He sighed. “I’ll do the frosting, I think my hands are too big to hold the gingerbread pieces.” You didn’t disagree, and so you passed him the bag and reached for two of the house’s walls, eyes on Din as he squeezed a line of frosting down one edge. “I’ve always wanted to do this kind of stuff.” 

He continued as you worked to assemble the house - giving the walls some time to set before you tried to add the roof. “Yeah?” He nodded, his hands joining yours while you held the sides in place. “Why didn’t you?”

“Growing up …” He sighed, glancing down. “We were always really busy around the holidays. It was a lot of traditional stuff and not much time for fun.” He cleared his throat and said your name. “We did presents and had family meals, but the extras? We didn’t have that.” 

You felt for him - it was clear that Din believed he’d missed out by not having the opportunity to celebrate fully. And if the way he’s approached these first two events is anything to go by… “Well it’s never too late to start celebrating.” You pulled your hands away from the structure you’d built, making sure it wasn’t going to collapse. “You can let go, Din.” He did, eyes on the house. “We should let it go for a few more minutes before we decorate. Want to go grab something to drink?” 

He stood before you did, and you followed him without speaking, weaving through the crowd and toward the snack bar. Part of you wondered if he regretted telling you so much, but when he turned back to face you, bottled water in hand and a smile on his lips, those worries disappeared. “Thank you for being so patient with me.” He cracked the bottle open, taking a long swig before going on. “I know you’re used to -”

“There’s no reason to thank me, Din. I’m doing this because I want to. And because … it seems like you’re enjoying it.” 

“I am.” You set off back down the hallway, fewer people there than were in the large room you’d been decorating in. “There’s still a couple weeks to go, and I don’t know how it can get much better, but this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, wait til you get your tree, Din. And wait until you see Grogu under it. And wait until -”

“Question.” He stopped walking and you did, too, waiting. “What’s that?” With one hand, Din pointed up, his head tilting back. “I’ve seen it all over the place, and -” Shit. 

“That’s… mistletoe, Din.” Chewing on your lower lip, you closed your eyes. “Christmas tradition. Some people say it’s just a parasitic plant, but most people think differently. It’s a tradition that if you’re under the mistletoe with someone, you’re supposed to kiss them or it’s bad luck.” Taking a deep breath, you shifted both feet. “The town’s named after it.” 

Finishing your water, you stepped away and tossed the bottle into the trash, turning back to see that Din was still staring upward, a tiny frown on his face. “What if you’re under it with someone you don’t like? Or if you’re married to someone that isn’t the person you’re with?” 

“Well then you just pretend you don’t see it.” Grinning, you stepped closer, crossing your arms over your chest. “Or you can kiss them on the cheek. It doesn’t have to be a romantic kiss, even though all the movies make it out to be.” He was quiet for long moments, the sounds of the crowd in the next room filtering in through the open doorway down the hall, but it was only you two out there, Din’s eyes trained upward and you standing a foot or so away, waiting. “The story is -”

“Come here.” He held out one hand, waiting for you to take it. “Don’t leave me standing here until someone else comes out into the hall.” You took his hand and Din pulled you closer, his other hand rising to steady you by the hip. A tiny gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it, Din’s smile growing. “I don’t want to ignore it.” Oh, shit.

“I don’t either.” Your heart was pounding in your chest - beating out a rhythm that it hadn’t played in months, and without letting go of his hand, you pressed your other one to his shoulder, waiting. “I -”

“I don’t just mean this.” He looked up and then back at you. “I mean …”

“I know.” Your lower lip trembled, but you didn’t look away. “I do too.” 

He moved slowly, closing the distance between you, and when Din’s mouth met yours, you felt warmth wash over you as your eyes closed, calming the thumping of your heart slightly. His hand tightened on your hip and then rose, palm settling against your jaw and his thumb stroking over your cheek. 

It was a gentle kiss - tame in the sense that neither of you tried to deepen it, but he didn’t pull away when you gripped his shirt tighter, the man’s hold on your hand steady, your palms pressed together. “Did I do that right?” He breathed the words when he backed away, his intake of breath somewhat shaky. “I -”

“Yeah.” Wetting your lips, you nodded. “Yeah, Din, you did that right.” More than right, that was…

Unable to help yourself, you leaned in again and kissed him a second time, the hand releasing the material of his shirt and lifting to settle at the back of his neck, the tips of your fingers touching the velvety material of his hat. “Ori wero.” He whispered the words against your lips, laughing quietly. 

“What does that mean?” You dropped your hand and took a step back, keeping his fingers entwined with yours. “You said the one part before, and I’ve been…”

“It means you’re trouble. Big trouble.” Din’s shoulders rose and fell, his smile growing. “But I’m not going to complain.” Me? Trouble? No, that’s definitely you. “We should get back in there. We have a roof to attach.” 

He didn’t let go of your hand as you moved from beneath the mistletoe and toward the open doors, but he did drop your hand as two small children ran past you and toward the smaller cookie room, Din raising both of his arms into the air and laughing as he spun out of the way, you stumbling a step backwards with an equally large smile on your face. 

“That’s what happens when you give them unlimited sugar for three hours.” Arching a brow, you laughed. “They didn’t step on your feet, did they?” 

“Nah.” He waved a hand in the air. “Not even close.” 

You headed back for your table and made quick work of adding the roof, Din holding the pieces in place while you sealed them with icing, his hands dwarfing the pieces of cookie. And you let him choose most of the design - the man dripping icing on the roof’s edges to resemble icicles, picking peppermint discs for stepping stones that led up to the house, carefully piping windows and a door onto the sides of the structure. “It looks good.” 

You watched him as he worked, the man leaning close and furrowing his brow. “Does it? I’m just winging it.” 

“You’re taking that apron very seriously. Like one of Santa’s little elves is right in front of me, and -” He rolled his eyes, but you saw his mouth twitch upward, even though he didn’t look away from what he was doing. “You’d never know it was your first, Din.” 

“Wait, why am I doing all of this?” He sat up, holding both hands out to you. “You’ve never done this either, and I’m not letting you … sorry.” 

“I was having fun watching you, actually.” Shrugging, you reached over and picked up a small bowl of gumdrops, pressing them into a line on each side of the door of the house. “You did the details, I’ll just add in the extras.” 

You worked in silence for a few minutes - finishing the path, adding a wreath to the front door in green frosting with tiny round red sprinkles pushed into the surface and  then pressing a mini candy cane to the side of the house, sticking it to the outer wall with some of the piping icing. “You know you’re going to have to take this thing home with you, right?” He was watching intently, eyes focused on the motion of your hands. “Grogu would destroy it.” 

“I didn’t even think about that.” Looking up at him, you gritted your teeth. “But if that’s what you want me to do, I will.” Oh, wait he’s got... Reaching over the house, you extended your thumb. “You’ve got frosting on your cheek, Din. Let me…” 

There was no pause when you swiped your finger over his skin, clearing away the sticky, white smudge, and without thinking you brought it back to your lips and sucked it between your lips the sweetness coating your tongue. “Wero.” He winked at you, voice low. “You’re doing this on purpose now.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” Returning your attention to the gingerbread in front of you, you pushed your lower lip out. “You think I’m trouble? What about you? And all…” You circled your hand at him, meeting his eyes. “This?” 

Din’s laugh was loud, drawing the attention of some of the other people in the room - Omera and Tanya looking over at you, too. “Good point.” 

You weren’t surprised when he leaned back in and started adding more things to the house, the two of you working together with your heads bent, talking quietly to each other. 

It was nice - comfortable, even, and you were stunned by the fact that there was no lingering awkwardness following your kisses in the hallway, you and Din simply going on like none of it had happened. No, not quite. 

You made eye contact a few times as you worked, Din grinning at you over the roof as he passed you mini M&Ms, you returning the smile when you handed him the icing bag. Finally, when there was nothing left to add, you reached for the remaining package on the table - two gingerbread pieces shaped like people. “Gotta add yourself. Too bad there’s not one that looks like a dog.” 

“Yeah, that does suck.” He pulled one of the figures from the bag, settling it in front of himself. “But at least there’s two people.” He slid the second one to you, saying your name. “So both of us will be on here.” That what you want? “Should we make our aprons?”

“I don’t think either of us are that talented.” Scoffing as you smeared frosting over the lower half of your cookie to make a pair of pants, you let out a breath. “But if you want to try…” 

“No way.” He spoke a few seconds later, holding up his cookie - the outline of a t-shirt and pants on the body and a smiley face on the head. “This is as creative as I’m gonna get.” 

“Looks just like you.” Pressing your lips together, you held up your own cookie - frosting shirt and pants, the same style face as Din’s. “What about me?” 

“I like the real thing better.” He didn’t look away when he spoke, and you felt your grip on your cookie tighten, your eyes going wider. “But they’ll look good together.” 

He set gingerbread Din down into the frosting and then propped him up with a large gumdrop, gesturing for you to do the same. And so you did, placing your figure an inch or so away from Din’s, the two of them standing just in front of the door. “You’re right. They do look good together.”  Eyes on the cookies, you couldn’t keep the smile from your face. “So -”

You were interrupted by the return of the man onstage, the entire room going quiet as he tapped on the microphone. “Hello, everyone. I hope you’re enjoying your night and the opportunity to make some gingerbread houses, but it’s time to announce the winners of the cookie contest.” 

“Here we go.” You let out a slow breath, spinning your chair so that you were facing the stage. “I bet it’s the trees. It has to be.”  He reached for your hand, closing his fingers around it, though he let both of them hang between the chairs and out of sight, his thumb circling slowly over one knuckle. 

“In third place with their take on the classic snowflake design, we have Clan Mudhorn.” Well that was fast. You couldn’t help feeling disappointment, unable to look over at Din as the man continued. “That means they add 10 points to their total score going into round three.” 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Din leaned over, knocking gently into your arm with his elbow. “We still got some points.” Yeah, but… 

“In second place and earning fifteen points, team Threepeat made beautiful wreaths. The bows, you two? Perfect touch.” A table a few from you erupted into cheers, your eyes going to the pair. OK, those were really nice though. “And finally, first place winners and our grand prize for the night goes to Nut Crackers with their Christmas tree cookies.” 

“Knew it.” Din sighed, turning his head toward you. “At least we lost to two good teams.” 

“Yeah.” Frowning, you nodded. “And we did come in third, so that’s something.” 

“Plus,” Din continued, scooting in. “None of the teams that beat us scored points last week, so we’re still in the lead.” We are. I didn’t even think of that. “So it could have been worse.” 

“Yes.” Nodding in agreement, you squeezed Din’s hand. “We did good, Djarin.” 

“Don’t forget to stop on your way out if you placed in the top three.” The man onstage was still speaking, your attention breaking away from Din and going back to him. “Second and third will receive gift cards and a voucher to pick up a dozen of the cookies you spent all afternoon making.” 

“We get another gift card?” Telling him yes, Din’s smile grew. “Nice. Where to?” 

“No idea. Probably one of the cookware stores, or maybe a grocery store. Depends.” Finally standing, you reached for your coat. “This place usually clears out pretty quick when the event’s over, so we should probably get going.” He stood too, though he looked surprised at your abrupt exit. “Do you want to carry that out to the car? We can stick it on the floor in the back seat.” 

“Yeah, are you going to go get the prize for us?” Telling him you would, you  zipped your coat and walked to the prize table, a young woman handing you an envelope and congratulating you. 

You didn’t want to open it without Din, so you made your way back to him, tucking the envelope into your pocket and watching as he lifted the gingerbread house from the table, carefully carrying it with both hands. “I’ll go first and get the doors.” 

So you did - carefully pushing them open and holding them until Din was through, hurrying across  the parking lot and back to your car to open that door so Din could set the house down. “Drive slow.” He popped up on the passenger side, both brows raised. “That thing could collapse at any moment.” 

It didn’t though, the two of you making it back to your house without incident, both of you nervously eyeing the back seat on the entire trip. “Will you carry it in? Once it’s on my counter, it’ll be fine, and you’ve gotten it this far.”

“Of course.” Din got out of the car and then opened the back door, reaching in and slowly lifting the house. “Open your door?”

“Yeah, and then I’m going to go and get the mail.” You unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping to the side as Din passed. Once he was inside, you headed for your mailbox, reaching in and pulling out a small stack of envelopes. Oh, the prize. I almost forgot. 

When you were inside with the door shut behind you, you made your way into the kitchen, Din leaning on your counter with both elbows. “Made it. Nothing collapsed.” 

“Good.” You unzipped your coat and hung it over the back of one chair, reaching for the envelope. “Here, you open this.” 

He straightened up and took it from you, fingers brushing yours as he did. “Hope it’s something good.” I’m sure it is. He pulled the envelope open and reached into it, a thin piece of plastic held between his fingers. “And you were right. Grocery store.” He held it toward you. “$50.” 

“Oh, that’s a lot!” Holding up one finger, you grinned. “And instead of trying to split it, how about you use it on Grogu? Buy him something good for Christmas?”

“Too bad we can’t use it on more of those treats he had at the tree lighting. He loved those.” 

“They’ll have something else that he’ll like just as much. Seriously, though. Take it with you.” 

“I can’t -”

“I mean it, Din. And …” You fought back a laugh, looking down. “You might want to take that apron off before you drive home, too. We both forgot and now…” He set the gift card down and unzipped his jacket, reaching behind himself to untie the strings before pulling it off and over his head. “Hat too, Wow, we were so distracted that …”

“We were.” His hair was rumpled, the act of removing the hate making it messier than usual. I want to run my fingers through it. “What about you?” 

“Yeah.” You pulled your hat off first, setting it on the counter and then moved to undo the apron, removing it in one motion. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize I still had this on.” 

It got quiet in your kitchen then, both of you staring at each other without speaking - and it was you that moved first that time, stepping forward and reaching out for Din, the man’s arms going around your waist and drawing you even closer. 

You dragged your fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer to yours, and that time, it wasn’t a quick, closed mouth kiss. Instead, you met his lips with yours already parted, fingers curling around the soft strands of his hair. 

He groaned against your mouth and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, trailing the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip before pushing it between them, Din not resisting at all. 

Instead, he drew you even closer and brought one hand up to cradle the back of your head, angling it so that you were more comfortable as the kiss went on. And he kissed you like he’d wanted to do it for months, the man’s mouth moving with yours with no hesitation, his enthusiasm shifting the momentum so that it was him leading you, Din’s teeth grazing the inside of your lip and tugging before he released it, his nose dragging along the side of yours while he inhaled. Oh, that might have been… that might have been a bad idea because… 

“I could do that all night.” He was breathing hard, his forehead pressed against yours. “I want to do that all night.” 

“I won’t say no another kiss, Din.” He was gripping the back of your neck tightly, the man’s warmth overwhelmingly cozy. “Not from you. Not tonight.” 

“Good.” He backed off enough that he could look into your eyes, your fingers stroking through the flattened curls on the back of his head. “Ori’jate.” 

—  

Wero = trouble (direct translation is problem, but I’m modifying it based on context since there’s no actual Mando’a word for trouble)

Ori wero: big trouble

Ori’jate: very good

--- 

Tag list coming soon! 

[angel-shaw]

First draft of my Magnus Archive Fic!

This is the first “chapter” of my first TMA fic:) I am still working on it and I haven’t edited this at all yet but I really want some input and praise:3

I started this fic off of a dream that my TMA obsessed bf begged me to wright. I haven’t reached the main part that I am super excited about yet so expect more! For those who read this let me know if I should post this as a multi chapter fic and post this rn to Ao3 or if I should wait till I am done with it:)

Summary - Tim and John are trapped in a concrete room inside the Achrives, Nether knows what happened or how to get out so they have no choice but to sit in their together. (Takes place after season 1 and definitely before season 3, might make it so Sasha is fine because I can )

Currently at 8016 words:)

Tw: being trapped, paranoia, etc kinda stuff (lemme know if more needs to be tagged :). )

“Tim,” John said, shaking his counterpart.

“Tim you need to wake up, food is ready and you need to eat it hot.”

Underneath several thick blankets John heard heard tim mumble something along the lines of

‘I’m cold, fuck off.’

John sighed.

“I know your cold Tim but the warm food will help with that, please i don't want to fight you on this every time.”

The blankets shuffled quickly and John flinched back as Tim pulled the blankets down from his, very tired looking, face.

“Then don't! Leave me be! Why do you even care John? It's not like anything can be done about this so why not do what you've always done and either leave me alone or go speculate about whether or not I'm some possessed version of myself who will randomly decide to try and kill you for some obscure reason only you understand in a corner?!”

John stood frozen for a few seconds as Tim glared at him. When Tim started to shiver despite the blankets it snapped John out of his stupor. Instead of responding he instead held a hot bowl of soup out for Tim to take.

“This should help,” John whispered as Tim frowned.

It took a minute but Tim shifted to prop himself against the wall and took the bowl.

John took his own bowl and sat a little ways away from Tim as they both ate in silence.

This was their routine, minus Tims outburst normally. For the last 2 weeks Tim and John have been trapped in this room. It reminded John of the archival room without the shelves and boxes of statements. A stone room with no windows and only one door. John couldn't even remember how he and Tim had gotten there. He couldn't explain why they were stuck in there and even less of a clue where the food and resources came from. It felt like some kind of thing fucking with them. Giving them what they need to survive but not to get out.

At first he and Tim argued a lot, both scared and confused. Johns added paranoia didn't help that ether and seeing as how they were stuck together now 24/7 they had plenty of time to fight. That was until Tim started to get sick, it was so easy for John to notice the change. Tim started to shiver, at times John could even hear his teeth chattering. He stopped moving around the room and just stayed curled up under his blanket. One night John had waited till Tim had fallen asleep and threw his own blanket on top of Tims shivering form. The days following John had asked Tim if he was alright but was met with hostility. And that's how it had been the past week and a half. When Tim stopped eating John took it upon himself to make sure Tim had food to eat. He noticed when he ate Tim stopped shivering for a time so he made sure there was almost always a hot food for Tim to have when he started to violently shiver.

John and Tim rarely talked because it seemed it could only lead to another fight. So the silence the two fell into well eating no longer felt awkward.

When Tim placed his bowl down onto the stone floor he immediately withdrew into the two blankets.

“Do you want more?”

A muffled mumble.

Because John couldn't hear him he decided to move closer. He scooted up to the blanket and leaned down.

“What was that?’’

The entire blanket flinched and before he knew it a flash a pain shot through his nose. John flinched back and cried out, bringing his hands up to his face.

John's eyes were shut tight and he could feel the tears welling up behind his eyelids. He was too preoccupied feeling a hot wet liquid start to run down his hands and wrists to notice Tim and sat up and threw the blankets off of himself.

“Oh holy shit! John, I didn't realize you got so close. What the hell where you doing?! Shit are you ok? Oh holy fuck thats alot of blood. Shit shit SHIT! Here uhh just, just stay here. I'll go and find something, oh fucking hell theres so much blood’” Tims rant could barely be heard by John who was still sitting in shock and pain.

A few seconds later John felt Tims strong hands envelope his own, distantly he could hear Tims voice. It sounded…calmer than usual? No, not calmer… nicer.

“John come on, lemme see.”

John could feel his head shake, there weren't any real thoughts going through his mind really so he didn't know why.

“Hey come on, I kinda know how to fix it….a little…I won't make it worse at least.”

John felt his head shake harder. He really needed to stop doing that. It made his head hurt and him feel dizzy.

“Come on John, please let me help.”

Finally John let Tim pull his hands down, his eyes still shut tight and still in an immense amount of pain.

“Shit…Ok here,” Tim's voice was quiet as he started wiping around the nose, clearing some of the blood before holding it to John's face firmly.

“See that's not too bad right? We got this…no problem.”

Tim took a deep breath, “Ok John can you hear me?”

Again John could distantly feel himself nod, nothing felt real.

“Good, good. Ok so this next bit is gonna sting like a bitch right? It will be over quick though ok? Can I?”

Another nod, what was he even agreeing to?

And then the grasp on the cloth over his nose became much firmer before there was a loud crack and a fresh wave of pain with an overwhelming nausea flowing through him.

“Fuck!”

He could hear a lot clearer now, so much so that he could hear the hiss of Tim sucking air through his teeth.

“See,” Tim meekly tried, “Wasn't too bad ay?”

John finally opened his eyes, he could still feel how wet they were and to his displeasure he could feel that wetness stream down his face. Tim was still sat in front of him holding his nose with a weird look on his face.

It was a look John couldn't quite place, he had never been the best at reading people. Somehow always coming to the seemingly worst concussion possible.

“You ok John?”

Tims voice was quite soft, it was something John had noticed. Whenever Tim spoke to others, others like the random people who visited the archive or the food attendees at the outings he was forced to go on. He would question why talking to Tim made those people feel better, or at least good judging by their smiles. Now that that softness was directed at him he understood why those peoples smiles got bigger. He wanted Tim to keep talking to him like that.

“John?”

John looked up at Tim, still in shock from Tim REBREAKING HIS NOSE.

“Did you just break my nose..?”

Tim shifted uncomfortably, “Ya I'm sorry, I had to set it so it won't heal wrong…”

“That really hurt, like a lot….It still really hurts”

“Here just hold the cloth to it for now and the bleeding should stop soon, plus the pressure might help with the pain. It's what i did when i broke my nose”

John stared at Tim increadisully but talking moved his nose and made it hurt more so he decided to stay quiet.

Until he looked down and saw how much blood there was everywhere.

—----------

Tim watched as he saw John's breathing get faster, his eyes were huge as he looked at his hands and arms. The blood was still wet and dripping down his arms to the stone floor.

“John?”

No response from him, John didn't even look up at him.

“Jonathan, man are you ok?”

Again, no response. Faster breathing, it was starting to freak Tim out. Was John having a panic attack? Sure Tim had seen plenty, hell just working at the Archive meant a lot of people who were giving statements had a lot of them. John though, he was always so…well not really confident but he held himself in a way that made him seem untouchable.

Tim had seen him with his paranoia but it was never like this, he was always looking for a way to fix whatever he was paranoid about, even if he was bluntly wrong and being stupid. This…this was so different. John was panicking, worse than the panic Tim had seen during the Worm incident. Why was a broken nose worse than a worm burrowing itself into his skin?????

“John!”

Nothing.

“John, look at me.”

Tim was still holding the cloth, John had never reached his hands back up to take it himself. He was too busy…working himself into a panic attack???

Tim used that to his advantage, he tilted John's head up until his eyes shot to him.

“It's ok, you're ok. Nothing really happened right? You're all good. The pain will go away soon, you just need to breathe.”

John shook his head and looked back down at his hands.

“Is…is it the blood freaking you out?”

John didn't reply but as Tim contoured to follow his eyes he was pretty sure he was right.

“Shit ok, umm here, John.. John!”

John startled to look back up at Tim, he really did look panicked. Shit….

“Look John, just close your eyes ok? I'll take care of it. Come on, just close them. I'm not going anywhere…it's not like i can really, But I swear i'll take care of it”

John finally squeezed his eyes shut again, his breathing was still way too fast but it seemed like he was trying to calm that down so that was good.

Tim wasn't quite sure what to do after that. Now that he knew what the major problem was he should try to fix it right? But he was still holding on to John's nose so he couldn't go to the sink to get anything to help so what the hell was he going to do?

It was really cold out from his blankets, not as cold as before but still. He might fight John on it but the warm food really did help. John was so confusing, one day he was acting like Tim would snap and go on a random killing spree and now he was…trying to help him? It didn't make any sense.

Then Tim had an idea.

“Hey John, can you stand up?”

John nodded his head slowly.

“Ok good, well I need you to stand, I'll be right here k? You don't have to open your eyes, i'll lead you where we need to go.”

John nodded again. It took another moment for John to try to start standing, he almost fell and grabbed onto tims arms to stabilize himself.

Shit he has a weak ass grip-

“Hay it's alright,” Tim said quietly, “You can hold onto me.”

John's hands somehow ended up on Tims side as he stood, the two of them stood there letting balance be regained before struggling to move around the room.

—-----------

It was hard to stay standing with his legs shaking but he could feel Tims free hand helping to hold him up as they shuffled somewhere.

Where were they going? It couldn't be far of course, the two had stuck in this one room for what felt like so long now. Unless Tim had been lying and he had known a way out this entire time. What if all this was a plan?

No he was being unreasonable, he knew Tim. Tim wouldn't.

Before he could think anymore on it he heard tims muffled voice again.

“Ok I'm gonna lean you again here kk? Just lean here and I'll clean you up.”

John just nodded again.

See? He thought to himself. Tims good, Tim wouldn't lie like that. As prickly as he had been he hadn't done anything wrong and he was stuck here too.

Jonathan had always struggled with paranoia, he always needed someone or something to blame for everything. Even if it was himself that at least gave it a reason to happen, it gave an explanation he could wrap his head around. But when something he didn't understand or explain happened he always tried to reasonably put the blame onto someone. That someone just tends to be who else was with him. Even hard evidence against his accusation did little to rest his mind.

It had gotten worse over the years, working at the institute had started to help. Sure the stuff he knew was real was terrifying and he wished it were not, hense his dismissal of the cases, but they gave explanations. It gave him an odd sense of calm, knowing that. But the second something happened that he couldn't explain, something that just possibly could have been one of his coworkers, he fell deep into a rabbit hole of mistrust and dishonesty. His pariona got so bad, he knew it affected his coworkers in negative ways, because they told him. Tim expressly got fed up with his actions.

In the time Tim and himself had been stuck John had started to try and think his way through his paranoia. That was hard when his tactic was to blame something and the only thing he could think of at first was the one he was trapped with. But eventually he noticed his parinona of Tim go down. It really started when he noticed how sick Tim had gotten. It sprung something in his mouse brain that it just couldn't be Tims fault, Tim was sick and needed help. It started to override his paranoia.

At least of Tim. Everything else though was fair game. The vent? Something was in it. The wall? More worms.

There were multiple nights where John stayed up and checked every coroner of the room for something, anything. But night after night he found nothing.

Now everytime he had some paranoid thought about Tim it seemed so much easier to work through it. It was a nice change, being able to work through it.

And now Tim was running warm water and slowly wiping John's own blood off of him. Honestly John was surprised Tim didn't just leave him sitting there on the floor in his own panic bubble. But distantly, he knew Tim wouldn't do that, couldn't. Tim was so kind, even when they yelled at each other Tims concern for John seemed so obvious. Though the anger and everything, it was still clear Tim was worried about John. Just like he was worried for everyone else.

John could feel the warm cloth down his arm, it was soothing. Tim was still holding his nose, it must have been getting annoying.

So John lifted the arm Tim wasn't currently working on and tried to take the cloth himself. His eyes were still closed but he could swear he heard Tim jump when his hand touched his.

“ i can hold it..,’’ John said quietly. It felt like talking too loudly would break whatever was happening right now. And John didn't want that.

—------------

Tim was in fact shocked when John's hand grabbed his own, he was so focused on trying to get the blood off with only one hand that it caught him off guard.

But he let John hold up the cloth and was finally able to use both hands. John's breathing had evened out a lot, Tim hadn't noticed at first but as he worked he could feel John taking long deep breaths. It was the first time Tim had actually seen John even try to self regulate.

That was one thing about John that pissed Tim off, it always seemed as though he just let his pariona dictate everything. He never even seemed to try and reason anything, just letting the fear take over and start running everything. It was good to know John COULD chill himself out a bit.

Tim continued to wash John’s arm off before rinsing the cloth and continuing. There really was a lot of blood, it was suppressing John hadn't fainted or something. Sure when he stood he was wobbly as all hell but being dizzy was expected.

The two of them stood in silence for a while, Tim at one point lifting John's free hand up to hold the cloth so he could clean the other but it was a comfortable silence.

John's eyes, despite still being closed, looked much more relaxed than just a few minutes prior. Granted the dark circles that came with a broken nose were starting to show, Tim frowned at that even after his nose had healed those bruises would probilly stay there for quite a while. Tim thought about it for a second longer, overall they weren't too much different from John's massive eyebags he had all the time. Given the nights Tim knew he had been staying up just walking around the room muttering to himself.

That was another thing about John Tim noticed, he talked to himself a lot. Not in a creepy way like in movies, ok well sometimes, but mostly it felt like he was just trying to think. Like just saying his thought process out to make sure it sounded right. There was once he had heard one of John's tangests when he thought he alone and John had said something, stopped and said “well that didn't make sense” it was quite funny. Probably would have been funnier if Tim hadn't been so upset with him at the time.

Only when John's arms were clean did Tim break the silence.

“Here John, your arms are clean. Lemme see if the bleeding stopped.”

John still didn't say anything, just wincing as Tim pulled the bloody rag away from his face.

Tim winced, “Ya…no keep that there im gonna get some toilet paper.”

As he walked away Tim heard John mutter something under his breath so he wheeled himself around on his heel. He felt himself getting angry, he was trying to help him and John was still making comments and shit?? God this was why he stopped respecting him, all his damn paranoia and bullshit.

“What.” It wasn't really a question, whatever John’s answer he wasn’t going to like it. So technically it could be considered a trap.

John of course didn’t notice the massive shift in Tims face as his eyes were closed, but he did hear the change in his voice.

“Thank you, I said, this hurts, a surprising amount actually. I don’t think I’d know what to do if you weren’t helping me….so thank you”

For once, for once in the entire damn time Tim had known him, John said something right.

Tim immediately felt stupid for getting mad so quickly. He might not understand what the hell John’s switch up was about but it pissed him off.

“Right.”

Even if he was wrong he was still annoyed, none of this made sense, if anything John suddenly tried to help him or whatever this upset him more. Hell the only reason he was helping him right now was because he panicked once he heard the crack of John’s nose.

—-------------

John held his nose until Tims bigger hands pulled his own away. Quickly John felt the wads of toilet paper touch him as Tim tried to shove them up his still bleeding nose.

As it stood, his nose still hurt like hell evidently. So John flinched hard, abruptly pulling back from Tim. Even more unfortunately, the sink he was leaning most of his weight on was not big. So when he flipped back he had thrown his weight into….well nothing.

All the shit people said about falling in slow motion, was in fact just that, shit. John didn't have any time to process he was even falling before he felt Tims arms wrap around his waist. John by all definition was a small man, he knew that, but when Tims arms were so solidly wrapped completely around his waist he /felt/ small.

“Shit! Fuck I'm sorry are you good? Well obviously not, fucking duh. Shit here, Im just gonna….uhh…I'm gonna get you over on the chair that way you don't rocket yourself on the floor ya?”

Johns face was burning again, strangely not just around his nose, but it must have been from irritating it. He made and tried to help make it at least not a struggle to move him, which was hard considering his legs were not planted on the ground, tangled between Tims.

Somehow Tim was able to move him without ended with both of them on the floor. John's only real thought during the short journey was that Tim didn't radiate heat like most did, he wasn't cold per say but he missed the warmth someone would expect.

“Damn you're warm, you know that?”

“Hmm?”

John was pulled from his thought by Tims comment’ “I think you’re just cold”

Tim sat John down on the wooden chair.

Tim rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “ nah I think it's you”

John hadn't realized it but he had finally opened his eyes. His own arms weren't covered in blood thanks to Tim. Tims arms however were not so clean. He had been trying to help John stop freaking out and gotten blood, John's blood, all over him.

“Oh shit! Right, you're still bleeding; give me a sec!”

John honestly hadn't noticed his nose still leaking blood down his face until Tim reminded him, he lifted his hand to catch the blood but before his could Tim was back and stopping him.

“Put your damn hand down. I just cleaned your amsnup I don't need you fucking that up already. Ok it looks like I set it ok so it should be good.”

“Ya did hurt a lot by the way”

“Ya I know, I'm sorry. I mean if you would have rather it healed in the wrong place we could have left it but I figured if I just did it then…” Tim trialed off, he had an odd look on his face.

“ No no,that was uh fine. It hurt though. How did you know to do that? I figure it's not something you just picked up from tv….at least I hope not.” John tried to joke, but he really really hoped that Tim didn't just do that just because of a bad tv show.

“Haha ya, I umm, I broke my nose quite a lot as a kid so I learned how to handle it. If I'm being honest I did originally try it because of the show…it was a really bad cop sitcom that I watched all time.”

“You watched sitcoms?” It genuinely caught John off guard, he expected Tim to watch a bunch of horror or something like that.

“There a problem with that?”

“No no of course not, I just… didn't expect it”

—------------------

As they talked Tim noticed that it seemed to draw Johns attention away from his injury. Would he normally talk about stuff like this to him? No of course not, hell if he tried John probably would have had a paranoid delusion about it or something and accuse Tim of being a clone or some shit like that.

But if tim helped keep him calm, and he wasn't going to freak out over it, fine.

He started to clean Johns face as he talked. He tilted John's face back and actually managed to get the paper in his nose without a mass spasm this time.

“Ya, normally it's not my kind of thing but I watched it a lot when I was younger. The….uh..guys I hung out with could tolerate it and it didn't make me cry so it was always on. Heh, I love the show. It's actually pretty funny, not accurate but I get enough action with cops nowadays that I don't need accuracy about ‘em” Tim laughed.

He could see John's smile, Tim distantly thought it would be better without all the blood.

“That's…nice. ,my grandmother wished I would get into a show. It could never keep my attention for long. I was better with books.”

This was weird, this entire thing was weird. John being civil and…nice. The two of them talking casually about things Tim had never told anyone. It wasn't like Tim was telling John everything that was part of it but John now knew more than anyone else and it was so casual. The two of them had been stuck in this place for what, 2 weeks now? And now here the two of them were, talking after Tim had broken his nose.

“Never had the time to read books, I uh, got busy alot so shows where a lot easier you know?”

“That's fair enough.”

Tim finished cleaning John's face and backed up,” there you go, you gonna have raccoon eyes for a while.”

John's head tilted to the side, holy shit he looked like a….a confused puppy.

“Racoon eyes?”

Tim laughed, he couldn't help it, “ ya when you brake your nose for the first time you get bruised around your eyes and they look like the face of a raccoon. It hurts but it looks cool once they heals a bit. I probably still have a picture of me with ‘em somewhere actually.”

John already had the circles forming around his eyes, they were gonna get a lot darker in the next few hours but they should clear up pretty quick.

“I see, well thank you for telling me. I'm sure it would have been quite a nasty shock to see that in the mirror with no warning.”

“Ooooooh ya” Tim laughed’ “ the first time it happened to me the guy who broke my nose had to burst into the bathroom to see why I was sobbing after I saw, God that was a daaaay. Hurt like a bitch.”

Tim saw Johns frown, he obviously saw the problem in Tims word and for a second Tim really thought he was going to ask and he would have to shut the entire conversation down because he fucked it up.

But instead John just kept it going, “ Well I'll try to keep my shock to a minimum to not startle you then.”

Tim smiled.

—------------

John saw the change in Tims demeanor when he had said that, if there was one thing John was good at t was avoiding conversations. Sure he was curious and a little worried but it wasn't any of his business. It was Tims life and childhood, whatever had happened he was fine now so there wasn't any need to push it.

It was then when John saw the blood on Tims shirt. It made Johns chest tighten, that was one of Tims favort shirts, and quite frankly one of the only peaces of clothing's he hadn't the moment well trapped in the room.

“Oh Tim your shirt…”

Tim looked down, apparently also having forgotten he was covered in Johns blood.

“Damn it! Oh fuck that sucks. I don't think I have another shirt clean…”

John had been cleaning what he could and for some reason it seemed that the cloths they put in the laundry basket occasionally got cleaned but it seemed to be at random times and if Tim said he didn't have another he didn't.

“Damn…I liked this shirt to. Ya think I’ll be able to get the blood out?”

Tim was back to rubbing his neck, like it was a nervous habit or something. Most of the blood has dried and because Tim’s shirt was a relatively light color there was little hope for it.

So John shook his head, “I think you got it on your neck…”

“Hmm? How the hell would I have gotten it on my neck??….oh..”

Tim pulled his hand from the back of his neck, and stared at it.

“Fuck.”

“You say that a lot.”

Tim’s eyes snapped back to him. Oh that was the wrong thing to say.

“Ya I do. Ya I fucking do John. You know why? Beacuse for the past two week I’ve been stuck in a freezing fucking room with my boss who suddenly 180ed how he’s acting and that’s fucking confusing. I’m cold all the time and every night I hear you walking around the room muttering to yourself about whatever the fuck you are, you have been insisting on feeding me and ahit when you never cared before. Hell apparently you wanted to feed me so fucking bad I broke your fucking nose and now I’m standing out in the cold open air well cleaning you up and now I have my only shirt covered in blood. I think I’m allowed to swear when all this shit keeps happening,” Tim took a deep breath breath

John was frozen in shock from Tims outburst. Sadly he wasn't done.

“No and you know what John? I have tried so fucking hard to bond with throughout my years working with you and all I was met with was a complete wall and hell later I was met with worse then a wall! All I got from you was distrust and a fucking staucker! We worked together for how many years before you became the head Archivest and you still thought I was some fucking monster! You took pictures of my house and I still was trying to give you grace but at every turn you just proved it was useless. What changed? Why the hell are you trying to be so fucking nice to me now?? I'd love to know!”

John sat silently staring up up at who had began rubbing his arms well pacing. He had no idea what to say, he knew after everything he hadn't treated Tim, or any of his staff really, well. Much less the respect they deserved. Tim had gone though the exact thing John had just with the extra stress of having to run through the tunnels alone. And still John treated him as a threat, he knew Tim and still was so cruel.

Tim had every right to be angry, to be hurt. And after everything he deserved to question John.

“I….I'm sorry Tim. For everything,” before he could continue Tim turned on him again.

“Your /sorry/?! Your sorry that you completely disregarded everyone and pushed all of us to our wits ends. Your sorry for all the nights where we tried to stay late to help you with whatever you thought was going on? The multiple accusations you threw around without a second thought? Your sorry? Are you fucking kidding me John!”

John flinched and looked away from Tim. All the softness and concern drained from his voice and expression.

“Yes…I'm sorry. I…nothing I say will fix it…I was to deep in my own parking and could never stop to think about you all,” John whispered.

He heard Tim scoff but he stayed quite.

“I…thank you for trying so hard Tim…I didn't..don't, deserve any kindness your understanding from you. I know before this all I was not the best ether, I'm sorry for that as well. I can't tell you what changed..I don't even remember when it did. Just after we got locked in here….I was able to stop thinking about you like that. It seems so obvious now that you couldn't, wouldn't have done anything, especially not this. You wouldn't lock me in a room with you, you wouldn't let yourself get sick…you stuck in here too. I saw how you got sick, the least I could do after everything was at least try to help..”

—-------

Tim let his arms drop. He had screamed at John and instead of fighting him, John was apologizing.

He looked so…sad? Remorseful? Guilty?

Good.

He should feel bad, after all the shit he put Tim through.

As John sat there Tim could feel all his anger leave him,it was like a weight off his chest. Without the weight he felt empty, like he had nothing to keep him going. To keep him standing.

God it was cold.

So Tim sat. He looked up at John whose head shot up when he heard something hit the ground. Damn it, he really was worried about him.

He sighed.

“Keep talking,” Tim said as he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on them.

“W-what?”

“Just keep talking, I'm…I can't be mad any more John, I'm too tired right now. Anything you want to tell me, tell me now. The quiet is too loud.”

Tim stared at the wall. It hadn't changed at all, still a plain, windowless, slab of cold concrete. He could hear John's breath.

“Right then. I suppose I can do that. When do you want me to start?”

Tims mouth was covered in the curled up position so even to him his words were muffled.

“Don't care”

He cared a little bit, even if he didn't have the energy to be angry he still wanted to know. Granted what John already said was more then he had ever expected to hear. He wanted more, apparently John was going to give it so he would take what he gave.

“Right. Well, you know this part already, after Martin found Gertrude's body I spiraled into a panic trying to figure out what happened. I'm still convinced that someone, or at least something killed her…but I was so far in the panic everyone seemed suspicious, no matter how much evidence I had. I needed something to blame, a reason that wasn't just some random thing killing her in a way she had no chance of stopping. I…I felt I needed to know so I could stop it happening to me. You all were the people closest so I…I blamed you. Even if it didn't make sense.”

Tim knew that, it was obvious to everyone honestly. Everyone except John himself of course, Tim supposed it was good for John to finally realize it to.

“If I'm being honest….I wanted it to be one of you so I could prove to myself that I can't trust people. But..I know it wasn't, you all, you all are good. I don't know how to approach any of you, even before all this. I'm so distant from everyone because I believed everyone was just…plotting. A Lot of the times I was right but I wasn't with you all. You all were genuinely trying to be kind to me and I refused to meet you. I'm sorry again.”

Tim hummed. He understood that train of thought, that everyone was bad and out for themselves. Hell he thought that for the longest time too, it was the only thing that kept him alive for years. He didn't notice when he stopped thinking that, was it when he found the Institute? Meeting Sasha or Martin maybe? He couldn't be sure.

Thankfully John continued after a brief pause. Tim heard the deep breaths he was taking.

“When we first got stuck in here I was still going down my rabbit hole, I don't know when I first was able to stop and think properly again. I think it was when you stopped pacing around the room, strted to hide in the blankets. I knew something was wrong and it….flipped a switch and suddenly I was just able to…trust you.”

Tim lifted his lead and looked at John, who was looking anywhere but him.

“You..you trust me?”

Silence.

Tim thought he was going to backtrack or ignore him but,

“Yes. I trust you Tim”

John finally looked at Tim.

The bruises around John's eyes were starting to darken and Tim couldn't help but start to laugh.

After everything, after Prentiss and all the fucking worms, the servalance tapes, everything. This is what got John to trust him. He decked John in the face not even an hour ago and now he was flat out saying he trusted him!

He could see the confusion on John's face but as his eye crinkled so did the starting bruises and it just looked so ...so funny on John. John who was always so serious and methodical and paranoid looked like he had a painted on bandits mask.

Tims laughter dubbed and he ended up laying back on the hard floor. John to his credit stayed quite as Tim laughed, just as he didn't when he yelled. But that didn't make it any less funny.

“Holy hell John,” Tim barely breathed out between bursts of laughter.

“You, you make no sense!”

—-----------------

Tim was still having with laughter as John processed what was going on.

He had no idea why Tim was laughing. Just a few minutes ago he was angry and yelling but now? Right after John told him he trusted him..did he think John was lying?

If he were less worried about Tims sudden for of laughter he would have given himself the moment to just enjoy the sounds. Later that night he would think about it and realize it was the first time he really heard Tim laugh. Not just he chuckles and short huffs, a real laugh.

When Tim finally called down he stayed laying on the floor. His breathing was loud and felt exaggerated but John didn't say anything.

“You know John, you have the strangest mind.”

More beats of silence

“Do…do you really trust me or are you just fucking with me John?”

Finally John was able to say /something/.

“ When have I ever “fucked with you”? I am of course I do trust you I wouldn't just say that…”

Tim chuckled again, “ it's just odd John, I was so angry at you a bit ago but now, now I just ... .God I don't know.”

John sat there confused and frankly a little concerned.

The both of the sat there, John could feel the tissue in his nose collecting blood and it was weird.

“Hay John…”

John looked at Tim immediately.

“Yes?”

“You're a real prick, you know that?”

Although he was insulting him Tims voice didn't have any anger in it anymore, not as far John could tell. Then again John was shit at telling somehow knew. Not John.

“I..yes I am aware.”

Tim groaned

“ God you sound like one too! Seriously you need to lighten the fuck up and learn how to talk without sounding like a English teacher.”

“I think the way I talk is just fine,” John said defensively. His arms crossed over his chest.

“No, no you really do. I swear you give me flashbacks of falling asleep in 10th grade English. It's crazy,” Tim was still laying on the floor and while John couldn't see it, was smiling.

“Well perhaps the reason you think it's odd is because you were napping while being taught proper language.”

“Na, you're just weird. Also no one just says ‘perhaps’ John. Nobody.”

Tim finally sat back up. He leaned back on his hands and looked at John. He sighed.

“I'm sorry John.”

What? What could you be apologizing for? I-”

“Cuz I just started fuckin yelling at you man. You didn't even do anything and I just blew off on you,” John was about to interrupt but Tim held up his hand.

“I mean I had every right, have, for that matter, to be angry but I just blew up on you when you were probably just trying to mess with me. Fuck I broke your nose and then cleaned you up and then yelled at you! Here I am going on about mixed signals and doing it myself! It wasn't fair. I'm sorry.”

“Um, thank you?”

“Was that a question?”

“I…No?”

“Why are you just asking questions? I'm trying be sincere here man.”

“I know I just, I don't know what to do. I, I am not used to being apologized to..”

“Martin says sorry to you all the time?????”

“Well, ya, but that's ,Martin. He apologizes for everything, even when he's done nothing wrong.”

Tim agreed and laughed a little.

“I suppose that's true. But ya John, I should've, I should've handled it better. Especially cuz I just broke your nose well you were trying to do something nice to me.”

“I did catch you off guard. You can't be fully to blame.”

Tim laughed again. John felt himself smile. He didn't quite understand what was going on or how Tim reacted but he liked that he seemed calmer. He seemed calmed then he had been since the two of them had been trapped. John didn't want to ruin that. Tim deserved a moment of calm.

Then Tim had a full body shiver. It snapped John out of his semi-daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Fuck ya I'm fine,” Tim was rubbing his arms again.

It must have been a trick of the light but John could have sworn Tims lips where blue.

“I'm just a bit cold. Its fucking freezeing in here.”

“You should lay back down, maybe eat some more.”

“Oh shut it. I'm fine. It's just a bit cold. It's not like the floor is helping any though.”

John went to stand up, but when he did it felt like a rush of dizziness and nausea ran though his bones. He quickly sat back down. His eyes squeezed shut trying to stop the room from spinning around him.

“Oh shit, John.”

He felt Tims strong hand on his shoulder holding him up to prevent him was falling forward.

Strong hand? Why was he thinking that. It's just Tims hand.

“Hey, it's ok. Just breath, Itll go away soon.”

John nodded. He reached his hand up to hold Tim's arm he took deep breaths and slowly he could feel the world righting itself around him.

When he finally opened his eyes Tim was right in front of him kneeling on the floor. His arm reached him stabilizing John and the other rested on the chair, just shy of touching him.

Tims eyes were on his, the brown color piercing into Johns.

“You ok there John,” Tims said softly.

His voice was always so smooth, it never sounded bad. Tim was so close to him.

John nodded, he opened his mouth but when nothing came out he closed it again and looked away from Tims concerned eyes.

“You lost a shit ton of blood you know, you really should be more careful. You, of all people, should know about the dizziness man.”

“Right, I was just trying to-”

“Ether way man,” Tim interrupted “You can't be fucking stupid. Come on, I'll help you to lie down.”

“I can walk just fine on my own.”

John was trying but Tim had other plans. He slid his arm under johns and lifted him to his feet. John's head swam as he rose.

“Every time you have tried to walk in the past, however I've been out of my blankets you've almost fallen so I don't wanna hear it.”

Tim walked John over to his pile of blankets. Not Johns little spread but Tims own.

“And before you start bitching about this being my…. pile, I broke your nose and you lost a lot of blood, you need to stay warm. You can use my stuff tonight.”

As Tim sat John down he was able to catch up with what he was saying.

“What about you? I gave you all these because you've been shivering all night.”

“John….have you been watching me sleep.”

It didnt really sound like a question but John answered it anyway.

“Well it's not exactly hard to notice. I uh, I don't sleep a lot. I spend a lot of time trying to find something but I do….check on you occasionally. You shiver a lot so I have been giving you any new blankets that appear. I don't really need them.”

Tim stared at John. He could tell if he was angry or not, he looked almost passive. Well he wasn't holding John any more he could still almost feel a chill coming off of Tim. The little bit of his arms that were exposed were covered in goosebumps.

That's one thing John never understood about Tim, his style. He would wear a lot of more revealing clothes, nothing too scandalous during work but he seemed to be wearing it under his clothes.If John sent him to get information he always came back to the institute…wearing less then when he left. Right now, he was wearing one of his only long sleeves he currently had. The only problem was that his sleeves had holes at the shoulders. The shirt was designed like that. And it's not like it looked /bad/ on Tim, it just defeated the point of wearing long sleeves.

John realized he was staring at Tims shoulders and looked back up at Tims face. They both knew he was cold and before John could start to object Tim did something completely unexpected.

“Ugh fine. I don't want to hear a word from you about this. Got it? You did this yourself and the only reason I'm doing it is because your right about me being cold. Its fucking freezeing in here and it's crazy your not frozen to death with the week ass scratchy piece of cloth that we have been calling a blanket.”

Tim shifted to sit next to John and layed down.

“Well come on, I'm not going to sit with the cold air hitting me for much longer.”

John didn't say anything and lied next to Tim on the thick comforter he had pushed over the concrete floor to protect from the cold. Tim quickly pulled the other 4, yes 4, blankets over the two of them.

“There, now you can't complain.”

John nodded and watched as Tim curled his body so all of it was under the covers, even his head.

—————

Tim felt John shift around for a minute before finally laying still.

The blankets were big enough to cover both of them easily so it wasn’t like they were touching or anything but they were still quite close. He could feel John’s warmth under the blankets, his body heat being trapped in.

Tim had to admit it was really nice, the blankets helped but having John right next to him helped even more with the cold that continued to seep through him. He wished he could have John just fold around his body so he could soak up all his warmth. But that was asking way /way/ too much. He didn’t even ask about this, he just forced John to lay down somewhere that wasn’t on the freezing concrete.

He really did feel bad about snapping at John today. He felt justified in his anger but just because he was justified in it doesn’t mean it was appropriate. Over the past few days John really was just trying to help him, he kept insisting that he eat and he kept giving Tim his blankets.

It was really sweet when he stopped and thought about it, he could take a form of comfort in that. He also took a not so small comfort knowing John was right next to him. He could feel his warmth and feel the blankets shift as he did.

And even though Tim was always cold he usually held one tight against his chest. He just couldn’t sleep without holding something, when he was home he had a stupid stuffed animal that he would hold at night but here he didn’t. Any semblance of comfort Tim useily took part in was gone, for now and the foreseeable future. But he could at least have this for now, even if it was only for tonight.

Maybe he could convince John to sleep like this more. He thought as he curled even more into himself and tried to fall asleep.

That’s for what I thought would be a good chapter 1!

I do have more written and I am continuing to wright it:)

Should I start posting this to Ao3 now or should I wait?

I love feedback and suggestions!

If you want to be tagged when I post about this fic let me know and I’ll try! :)

Thank you so much for reading!

[daddyy333]

Ari Levinson fluff

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 1.5k

warnings: talks about periods, period cramps, reader is embarrassed about her period, ?

summary: Y/n tries to hide her period for her boyfriend Ari, but he always finds out the truth, and he’s not happy about it.

“Babe! Come on, mama, we got a busy day, what are you doing still in bed gorgeous girl?” Your loving, adorable bear cub of a boyfriend said as he came in. You sighed and sat up, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry, I’m just…I’m a little tired today I couldn’t really sleep” you said and he sighed.

He sat down, kissing your head as he handed you a cold glass of water. You gulped the thing down and he asked “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re alright?” You nodded and smiled softly, patting his face.

He shook his head, a gorgeous grin peeking out of his full beard. He tapped your thigh and said “I want you out of this bed and ready to make beds for me in 15 minutes or you’re gonna be in trouble, baby” “ooh, really?” You challenged jokingly and he stood up, kissing your cheek.

“Yea, I’ll spank you” he threatened, a goofy grin telling you he wasn’t even slightly serious and threw a t-shirt at you, finding a pair of shorts and tossing those over too. You giggled and shook your head, watching him blow you a kiss.

You caught it, placing it right over your heart and he winked at you, running over to the kitchen to continue helping with breakfast. You sighed, falling back into bed.

You started your period last night and went to bed early so you could deal with the cramps and hopefully fall asleep before Ari came to bed but you had to fake sleep until you heard his gentle snores and spent majority of the night squirming around and trying to breathe through the pain. You had no way to relieve the pain out here, so all you could do was suffer and wait it out.

You didn’t want to bother Ari with these stupid girl problems, there are far more important things going on than your period cramps. You’re here to save lives, not whine about being in pain for just a few days.

You got up a few minutes later and got dressed, brushing your teeth and throwing your hair up in a messy bun. 20 minutes later you finally mustered up the strength to get up and start fixing up rooms.

You made beds, collected the laundry, cleaned up the bathroom, and even cleaned up the breakfast dishes and the mess in the kitchen for them. You were exhausted by the time you were done, and it took a lot longer than normal because the pain was unbearable.

You hadn’t seen Ari a whole lot and you were trying to avoid every one in general just because you didn’t want to have to talk about it. You honestly felt embarrassed, Rachel never seems to go through anything half as bad when she’s on her period.

“My love, those clothes you h- baby? Hey, hey y/n what’s wrong?” He said, you knew he was instantly worried because he said your name and his tone was enough to show how scared he was. Your face was scrunched up in pain and you were holding your stomach in some hope that maybe it’ll help the pain.

“I- I’m- ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes. He bent down in front of you, cupping your cheeks and quickly trying to move your hand and see what was wrong. You whined, shaking his hand off.

“Please, y/n, you have to let me see. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” He asked frantically. He was worried someone would get to you and hurt you because of your relationship to him or your job or any number of reasons to be quite honest.

“No, n-no, I’m okay! I-It’s…It’s stupid, Ari” you said, taking a deep breath and slowly opening your eyes, wiping away the tears. His eyebrows furrowed and he said “y/n! Why are you hiding something from me? I can see something is wrong- baby, you’re scaring me!”

“It’s just my period, Ari! It’s nothing, I’ll go get the laundry” you said, voice shaky and hands also shaky as you stood up slowly and tried to walk away. He stopped you, one hand on your arm and the other resting on the small of your back as he said “sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?” You said quietly, you almost weren’t sure Ari knew what a period was, he didn’t seem like a guy who was very educated on women’s body’s, at least to you. “Why did you tell me you were having bad cramps? Is that why you stayed in bed late this morning? God, I knew something was off” he said and you cleared your throat.

“Ari, it’s stupid, and I’ve been going through this for years. I can still do my job, I’m fine” you said and he rolled his eyes. He scooped you up, making you jump a little as his strong arms plucked right off the ground in the blink of an eye.

He carried you to your room as he said “why would you say something like that, huh? I don’t care if you think this is something stupid, I think it’s serious. You’re in pain, my gorgeous girl, and just because a problem specific to girls doesn’t mean it’s not my problem at all. You're the love of my life, damn it, and I’m gonna take care of you cause it’s my job”

He laid you down in the bed, pulling your shorts off cause he knew you like to sleep without pants on, he swore it was just to tease him but you’d been sleeping that way since you were a teenager. “Next time, I want you to tell me when you’re in pain like this. God, I’m a terrible boyfriend. You shouldn’t be working, you need to rest. You want me to find you some snacks? We still have some strawberries from the shipment” he said and you smiled a little.

You shook your head and said “it’s- it’s fine, really” “babe, you’re killing me! Let me help you, darn it” he said and you both laughed. He leaned down and kissed you, caressing your stomach softly and you groaned into his mouth.

He pulled back and you tried to play it off but you couldn’t, a hiss escaping your pretty lips as you felt a few spasms in your back as if what was already happening wasn’t enough. “Awh, baby girl” he said and you shook your head, letting your head fall back onto the pillow.

He laid down next to you and you sighed, grabbing your back and trying to massage the pain away. He brushed your hair back and said “how can I help you?” “You don’t…think it’s gross? Or annoying?” You asked and Ari scoffed.

He sat up slightly, leaning against the wall as he said “y/n- what are you talking about? Why would I think it’s annoying? You can’t control it, and I’m an amazing boyfriend so obviously I’m gonna be here for you and take care of you. So, I ask again. How can I help?”

“I don’t know, Ari…I don’t think there’s anything to do but…suffer” you said and he smiled sadly. He cupped your cheeks and said “then suffer in my arms, yea?” You shook your head and nuzzled into his chest, placing a hand on his waist.

He kissed your head and said “how bad is it, huh?” “Well, I’m okay for now…but it’s pretty bad because it’s like the first day and stuff” you said and he nodded. You sighed and brushed his hair behind his hair, before Max ran in.

“What the hell are you doin, asshole? We got things to do, quit trying to risk a pregnancy in here” he said and you giggled, whilst Ari blushed in embarrassment. He chuckled and said “if you take care of my shit for me for the next few days I’ll do whatever you want for a week”

“Babe,” you said and he covered your mouth, making you squeal. Max rolled his eyes and said “whatever” before he left, closing the door for you. He moved his hand and you shook your head, smiling up at him. You could never actually be mad at him.

He caressed your cheek and your eyes squeezed shut, a pain sigh leaving your lips. “Sweetheart?” he said and you groaned, burying your face into his chest. He caressed your waist, letting you squeeze his arm.

“I’m sorry, babe” he whispered softly, running his hands through your hair. You whined and said “It’s…just- it’s so a-annoying” “I know, I know,” he said and kissed your head a few times.

You groaned, relaxing slightly as you took in a deep breath. “Just try to breathe through it, yea? I’m right here, my sweet girl” he said and you nodded, smiling a little. You cuddled closer to him and he held you tight, massaging your back just right, helping you fall asleep in his strong arms.

Taglist: @mrsevans90

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Ari Levinson

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[indecisive-dizzy]

Howdy, Frank, and Eddie’s first date was at a Waffle House and somehow Holly and Wallace (who were wingmaning Eddie) got into a brawl with some random people

Lizzy (who was wingmaning Howdy) filmed the whole thing and probably got caught in the crossfire

It was chaotic and everyone had to leave

I saw this last night but was half asleep so here we go!

There are three reasons they went to Waffle House

It was the only place open after Howdy closed the shop

It was cheap (Howdy's idea I stg)

Lizzy wanted waffles.

Lizzy tagged along to wingman but is getting paid in waffles. Holly and Wallace were genuinely wingmaning Eddie from across the restaurant until they got into a fight with other patrons

Howdy is flabbergasted and asks Lizzy for the video later. He should do something? But he kinda doesn't want to. Maybe he could a refund out of it...

Eddie is horrified and beyond embarrassed which is keeping him from stopping the fight. He's just sitting in the booth with his head in his hands. poor guy

Frank is staring (glaring) at the syrup bottle debating whether or not it'd be worth it to chug the whole thing and go into a sugar coma to not deal with the situation anymore.

By the end of the night Lizzy has a sick video to post on the internet (lol), Holly and Wallace are banned from Waffle House, Eddie is tired and needs a beer, Frank wants to go to bed, and somehow the cashier ended up owing Howdy money.

They go home and Eddie, Frank, and Howdy are all snuggled up together in bed. From the middle Frank says "We are never going to Waffle House again. Howdy you are banned from date planning until I say so." Eddie cracks up and Howdy is offended but he laughs too.

Frank then tells them to shut up and sleep, burying his face into Howdy's fur. Love you's are exchanged and they fall asleep.

I'd say it was a Great first date.

[throughtrialbyfire]

WIP (not quite) Wednesday ♥

i'm just gonna start calling thursday "wednesday 2" HAHAHHGJKFDHKJG

tagged by @caliblorn !! thank you so much!! ♥

tagging @skyrim-forever @aphocryphas @maldov @thana-topsy @orfeoarte and anyone who wants to join!!

this is a rough draft for a scene that'll happen during the Solitude arc for Cycle of the Serpent. i absolutely love writing these guys

"It's just…" they started, breath snagging their words for a moment, before continuing, "…with everything that's been going on, I'm so fucking tired all the time, I just don't rest like I used to, y'know?" Emeros nodded. "We come here because we wanna avoid the Greybeards, then we get wrapped up with gods-damned Potema, and I don't even know if it's…" He waited for words that seemed to die on the other's tongue with a frustrated groan, the heels of their palms digging against their eyes for a moment. The nightmares had haunted all three of them. Potema, her cruel laugh, the voice that howled against the dreams they once had. For Emeros, it was nightmares of a promise of revival. Her power would knit flesh and bone from ash. For Wyndrelis - gathered from the Dunmer's half-asleep mumbling - the nightmares were a promise of revenge. That whoever had wronged him would know the ire they cast upon him, whoever they were. For Athenath… He only knew that they woke up thrashing, shaking, struggling against the dreams like a wolf pinned in a net. They never told him what Potema's promise to him was. Athenath glanced back at the stone wall, the partition that shadowed the moonlight. They stared at it for a while. "Athenath," Emeros breathed, catching the Altmer's attention again. He rubbed at his brow, trying to find something to say. "I think we're all… Exhausted. Gods know I am. I wish there was more we could do, but for now, we've no choice but to face this head-on."

They watched him for a while, plucked the cigarette from the stone step, and took a long drag. Holding it hostage in his lungs, Athenath waited, exhaling after what felt like an eternity. They set it aside again, and leaned their forehead against the other man's shoulder. Out of words to say, he mumbled, "I'm tired." "Go to bed," Emeros laughed, rising. Athenath pouted boyishly at the sudden motion, staring up at the Bosmer who leaned on the effigy's wooden post. They stared at one another in the night air for a while, the moons hovering above the College. "Carry me." Athenath grinned as they made the small, tired-voiced request. Emeros hadn't noticed how exhausted they looked, even now, as though he'd been awake for days on end. The way he spoke hammered in just how little sleep Athenath was truly getting. Still, the Bosmer scoffed and rolled his eyes, unable to restrain the matching grin tempting his own mouth. "You're too old for that," he replied, watching Athenath roll his big, dark eyes and huff. "I'm only young once, Emeros," he taunted, "besides, I don't want to walk." That was the last straw that sent the Bosmer cackling, pressing his rose-hued palm over his mouth, bent at the middle as he struggled to maintain a standing posture. It was the first time he'd laughed like this since Whiterun, the other smirking and leaning back against the stones. He tried to push the laughter back down, but it came bubbling out of his lips again, and when Emeros caught his breath, he rolled his eyes at the Altmer. "You're a grown man, and your legs appear fine," he scanned them up and down, "you can walk back to your room." "That's not the point, I think it'd be more fun if you carried me." Emeros rubbed at his jaw. "You're not letting me get out of this, are you?" "Nope."

[rosenongrata]

solitary solidarity – iv

Summary: A selection of writings that explore the early days of the odd relationship between Doctor Veritas Ratio and Missus Kagome Ikeda.

A/N: so i actually finished this last night, but just posting it now cuz i may have promptly fallen asleep once i was done lol

c.w/s: varies on what part, but i'll make sure to mark each addition with the proper tags in the a/n. OC-insert. c.ws for chapter: im actually not sure how to put this, but implications to abuse ig?? nothing is explicitly mentioned but it's possible to tell shits wrong between Kagome and her husband (also he calls her a whore once). soft Ratio hours (again). Kagome dissociates pretty hard for half of the chapter

w.c: ~1.4k

The two esteemed scholars had been chatting during lunch today – while Dr. Ratio prefers eating by himself in the sweet, sweet privacy of his office; he chose to accommodate Kagome’s wishes to be in the cafeteria instead for today. He knows well that she’s not the most sociable, so her eagerness to be in the populated cafeteria instead of her office strikes him as odd.

At least, that’s what he was thinking prior to a man with a head of black hair and a pair of tired brown eyes showing up – he even has a disgustingly sweet smile plastered on his face while he stands behind her. When the man brushes his fingers along Kagome’s shoulder, she nearly snaps her lacquered wood chopsticks in half.

“Hey, dear,” He says lightly, “I decided to visit you at your office today! It sure is nice here.” He grasps her shoulder tenderly, but that’s what makes Kagome’s skin crawl.

“Good afternoon, Shoto,” Kagome quickly composes herself, the life and color draining from her expression and eyes – Dr. Ratio didn’t expect to see her eyes to somehow grow even more lifeless.

“Ah, so this is…” The doctor’s eyes flick up and down Shoto’s figure, “…your husband.” Dr. Ratio says, his arms firmly crossed – looking unamused as he always does.

Shoto’s smile cracks a little from irritation, but is swiftly repaired within moments.

“This must be your…friend, right?” Shoto asks his lovely wife.

“…Yes, I’m her friend.” Dr. Ratio answers for her – he can see her inattention to her surroundings written all over her features. It’s a half-lie, but he deems it necessary for his plan to get her husband out of here – away from her. The other day with her – when she had punched him in the face – was all he needed to know about this man.

“Anyway,” Shoto turns his attention back onto Kagome, and the doctor swears he can see her curl a little bit away from her husband, “I got you a gift, dear! I’m sure you’ll love it. Here,” He pulls out a thin rectangular black box before opening it, revealing a pair of black gloves, “New gloves!”

“Oh, uhm… Th-thank you, Shoto…” She shakily sets her chopsticks down, staring down at the brand-new gloves before her.

(…He’s love-bombing her. Why am I not surprised…) Dr. Ratio ponders, eyes narrowing at the shorter man.

“C’mon, put them on. They’re very soft!” Shoto pressures.

“But… Shoto, you know that—” Kagome grimaces slightly, refusing to meet her partner’s eyes that grow with impatient anger.

People in the cafeteria begin watching more intently – gossiping amongst themselves. Not even so-called geniuses are immune to the flavorful taste of brewing drama. And then Shoto grabs her wrist, ready to pluck off her old gloves – the ones that have been patched over and over again, sewn back together numerous times over the years.

“Here, I’ll help you!” He chirps, his voice so fake it’s painful – to the doctor, at least.

Dr. Ratio rolls his dichromatic eyes before standing up abruptly – Kagome fully expects him to leave, she wouldn’t blame him for it, either. But, instead, the scholar grabs the other man’s wrist with a near death grip – leaving a burn ache in Shoto.

“You need to leave.” He mutters to the smaller man, glaring down at him, “You’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time.” If there’s one thing Dr. Ratio is – without a doubt – it’s fearless. “Especially Kagome’s.” He grumbles.

“What’s it to you?” Shoto bites back with a nasty grin, but the stronger man can feel him tremble with fear in his grasp.

“To be frank, it’s none of your business – nor is it any of your business to be pestering Kagome, me, and the rest of the Guild.”

“Very funny. Anyway,” Shoto pushes the doctor off with some ease, but only because Dr. Ratio allowed him to – he’s waiting for the husband to make another mistake, “We’re going, Kagome. We have business to attend to…away from these lovely people.” He throws a glaring glance at the opposing man before grabbing Kagome’s arm and roughly tugging her up to her feet.

“…That’s your last mistake, Shoto.” Dr. Ratio huffs, “I can either call security or…you can leave Kagome behind – here in the Guild.”

Weighing his options, Shoto scoffs at him and releases his wife’s now tender arm, “Fine, then. I’ll leave…” His voice lowers to a dark whisper, “She’s a good for nothing whore, anyway.” He glares into her unfocused eyes, “Look at her… She can’t even make a peep – tsk.” He rolls his eyes before departing.

Dr. Ratio says nothing to him, instead wrapping one arm around Kagome’s drooping shoulders as a way of keeping her upright. When he glances at the remaining people in the cafeteria, he notices they’re still talking with each other about Aeons knows what – most likely that little scene, he wagers.

“…Can you hear me, Kagome?” He whispers to her, and she fails to respond – her expression completely despondent and her eyes absent of awareness. “I will take that as a no.” He sighs.

He quickly cleans up her lunch materials, putting her bento box back together before leading her out of the cafeteria – anywhere that’s quiet and isolated will have to do. And he knows the perfect place – his office in the medical quarters.

They walk there, and each time she stumbles on her weakened legs, he catches her without too much thought about it. He assists her the whole way there – regardless of how slow she walks and no matter how many times she stumbles. And if he ends up having to carry her, he’ll do that, too.

Arriving in his office, Dr. Ratio helps Kagome settle down on the sofa in the quaint room before taking a seat at his desk. He swivels his chair in her direction – folding one leg over the other and resting his hands on his raised knee, they intertwine to form an overall scrutinizing posture.

Her eyes flutter shut, covering her lifeless stare that had been glued to the wall moments ago. It takes many minutes of pure silence – including the doctor removing his gaze from her, instead staring at the floor – before she can form words, let alone a single sound.

“Mmh…” She groans, pressing two fingers to her now-aching forehead – he can immediately tell it’s a tension headache that shoots through her skull.

Yet his offer for medication goes unheard for several moments as she rubs her head. When her mind finally processes that someone was speaking to her moments ago, her eyes shoot open and she finally spots him on the other side of the room.

“Did…did you say something?” She inquires; voice broken and weak.

His gaze is firmly on her figure, but not as firm as it often is – it’s softened, keeping his grumpiness low to avoid scaring her and worsening her condition.

“I asked if you would like some medication – for your tension headache, to be precise.” He replies.

“Uhm…” She sways a little in her seat, eyes losing focus again while her hand falls to her lap.

He sighs softly, turning away in his chair and grabbing a small bottle of headache relief medication from a drawer in his desk. He twists open the cap, taking a single pill out, and striding over to her after grabbing a cup of cool water from the water dispenser.

“You should take it,” He hands her the pill by taking her hand and placing it on her open palm, “At the very least, it will ease the inflammation.”

She gives him a small nod before taking the pill with water as instructed. He then rests the little white cup on the coffee table nearby. When he turns to return to his desk, he feels a weak tug at the tail of his clothes.

“Do you need something else?” He inquires as softly as he can as he turns back toward her – he’s well-aware that he sounds far too strict for his own good right now.

“Stay…” She breathes, the words coming from her held together by a thinning thread.

“I was not going to leave you alone. You are in no shape for isolation.” He reassures and takes a seat next to her once she releases his clothes.

“Thank you…” She whispers, her eyes falling shut again.

And without warning, she falls against his broad shoulder – her head resting there limply. He visibly stiffens – back straightening like a board and arms flexing into knots. When he hears sudden soft snores coming from her, he sighs in relief – his body deflating. He stays still for now, eyes scanning her peaceful features before glancing to the floor.

(…That’s that for now, then.) He sighs mentally, (But I know that this is only one facet of her – too much deeply troubles her. She’s not bored and emotionless by nature – no one is.)

[nobodylikety]

Hello again loved the first fic thank you for writing it and am back with a new fic idea. What about a Momo fic where she is a college student and go’s a year below her girlfriend/partner (you can choose if it’s fem reader or Gn reader I don’t mind either) and Momo takes late night classes to and when she comes home to see her S/0 asleep on the desk studying for finals and knowing if she leaves them there they back going to hurt in the morning so she moves them to bed but it wakes them up and they say they need to study for finals but Momo doesn’t listen and sends them to bed.

Hope you have a good Christmas or holiday season btw

Hey, hello again! I'm happy that you like the previous fic <3 omg omg I love your ideas, they're really interesting! so here it goes, hope you like it ;)

ps: I hope you had a good Christmas <33

momo x gn reader! tags: college au! gn reader is very stubborn and doesn't want to sleep!

summary: It's finals week, and you're definitely not going to bed. Momo is trying everything she can think of to put those tired college neurons to sleep.

note: basically this gn reader studies archeology because, well, it's what I study and I think it's the only thing I master without having to resort to writing something probably inaccurate.

It's finals week, which in university parlance means having the most memorable academic comeback in order to save the semester.

So given this forecast, your room in the student residence has been completely prepared for the almost apocalyptic days that lie ahead. The whiteboard hanging above your desk has been filled with your handwriting—which may be neat and legible, depending on factors like hand pain—presenting a meticulous to-do list organized according to schedules, with half-hour increments between each. Every available surface has been covered in cards and post-its; Even the shower, with worksheets neatly tucked into sheet protectors and taped to the curtain.

In turn, the kitchen has been stocked with frozen dinners and a delicious variety of canned goods, plus not necessarily very healthy snacks, courtesy of the mid-week trip to the supermarket.

Now, back to the present, you were hunched over one of many notebooks, backlit by the dim fluorescent light of the IKEA desk lamp. You had a pile of textbooks next to him, as well as the pen in your hand and a half-written sheet of notes. “Robert Kelly (2003) prologue: Almost the entire world was initially colonized by people with an adaptation to foraging. Therefore, the adaptation of hunter-gatherers to “empty” landmasses is….”

However, before you could continue writing, you leaned your head against the desk, tiredly. You weren't going to take a nap, of course not, you were just resting for a moment. Yeah…,, just a moment. Lights out.

So while you're absolutely-not-napping, Momo comes to your room with the intention of hanging out after her night classes. However, you are practically spread out over a pile of books, the pen held loosely in your hand, and the freaking Robert Kelly note (2003) unfinished. It's not exactly a comfortable position, quite the contrary, but in the deep sleep you're in —that of a college student whose last night of decent sleep seems to have been in kindergarten—you don't realize it. But Momo does.

“God, their back is going to hurt tomorrow if they keeps this up,” Momo murmurs, leaving her backpack on the floor as she walks towards you, almost on tiptoe, as if she doesn't want to make a sound. She gently plants her hand on your shoulder, shaking it slowly, seeking a reaction from you.

A snore, and you change position. But it's still an awkward position, and Momo still knows that she'll hurt your back if you continue like this. She tries again. She shakes your shoulder, harder this time. There is no reaction, other than a grumpy complaint. That makes her giggle, because the truth is that when you're sleepy, you get grumpy. Like a baby with few hours of sleep.

“Okay, this isn't going to work,” she sighs, hands on her hips and staring at your sleeping form on the desk. Thinking.

Momo gives up on the idea of making you wake up. So she does the second most logical thing: take you to bed.

Which is fine in fact, great, with the slightest inconvenience that halfway through (she's dragging you, putting your arm over her shoulder, while her hand holds onto your side) you wake up. Kinda. Something like that. You're only 10% awake, but that 10% wants to study for finals, not sleep.

“Moguri, I have to continue studying…” You complain sleepily, between yawns. You try to move away from Momo's gentle grasp, the one who intends to take you to bed so that you can finally fall asleep.

“Oh, please,” Momo chuckles, rolling her eyes. “You're barely standing. How do you intend to study like this?”

“I'll have a coffee” You respond, more out of instinct than anything else.

“But you hate coffee.”

"Fair point. So, some kind of drink that TikTok recommends to me.”

“You're really stubborn, aren't you?” Momo wrinkles her nose in a tender gesture, before nuzzle your cheek with it. You only respond with an 'mhm', while nodding. “Also, you always say you don't trust someone whose source of information is TikTok.”

“I can always change my mind” Momo just laughs, dragging you to your bed. She doesn't get you to lie down right away, so you're both sitting, you resting your head on her shoulder.

She sighs, causing the shoulder you're leaning on to rise slightly, before returning to its original position. She gives you a fond look, using her free hand to tangle in your hair, rubbing it slowly. They are sweet, comforting caresses that could easily put you to sleep...

"I have to study. Seriously, I'm missing a lot about definitions of hunter-gatherers, and theories of American settlement…” 

“What you have to do is go to bed. Come on, I'll even snuggle you.” Momo's fingers continue to tangle in her hair, rubbing your head in soothing circular motions.

“Unfortunately, I can't” You are like a stubborn child. You get grumpy from lack of sleep, but you don't want to sleep either. It's like Shrödinger's cat paradox, you are asleep and awake at the same time, in a superposition of states according to how you don't want to sleep even when you are sleepy.

“Hun, I'm not sure what part of 'bedtime' you don't understand. 'Bedtime' is not me announcing what I'm going to do next. 'Bedtime' is a suggestion of something that might be beneficial to your overall health and well-being.”

“Damn my health and general well-being.” With an exaggeratedly cheerful tone, you stand up and prepare to return to your desk. “Why sleep when there is work to do?”

“Because you're going to reach a point where you won't be able to do the work and your body will force you to sleep.” Momo is basically a year below you, but since finals week started, she seems to be the one in charge. The responsible one. Because you, with a maximum of 4 hours of sleep during the day, can't do much. You are so focused on studying, that you would be negligent of yourself for the sake of studying.

You are very willing to return to your desk to work. Really. Totally willing. But when you hear Momo talk to you like this, so worried (about you), so comforting, and expressing affection so easily, you doubt your decision.

Because usually, Momo's praise washes over you like a warm bath at the end of a long day, or a steaming bowl of soup on a winter's night. Something welcome and comforting, that she warms you from head to toe. Maybe sleeping isn't so bad. Not if Momo is with you.

“...maybe I could take a nap,” You admit, slowly turning to Momo. She is still sitting on your bed, smiling softly. She knows that you put aside your stubbornness and came to your senses. “But only if you stay with me.”

Momo's expression softens, and she pats the space next to her, inviting you.

“Come, let's go to sleep. Tomorrow you will study.”

“Yeah, because I still have to study Binford, Schiffer, Kelly again…”

“You'll do that tomorrow, Alan Grant” Momo teases you a little, calling you in a loving tone by the name of the Jurassic Park character.

“Actually Alan Grant was a paleontologist, not an archaeologist…” Momo silences you with a small kiss on the lips, pulling you to lie down. “Oh, well, it doesn't really matter.”

Because the fact that Momo prefers to call you Alan Grant and not Indiana Jones, or that you still haven't finished writing that damn note that still lies on your desk, doesn't matter now. The most important thing is that it’s time to sleep.

And that studying for finals can wait.