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angelofrainfrogs · 11 months

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Spend the Night: Ch. 3

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Lights on

Keep them up or I’m gone…

Stay where I can see you

And be where I can reach you

Escape the trouble you’re into

Keep the lights bright, kid, or you will be through

~Lights On by Kyle Allen Music~

Freddy didn't hesitate, instantly hoisting Gregory into his arms and running as fast as he could, moving purely on the instinct to get the child to safety. He only started to process what he'd just seen after he started running, clutching Gregory close as he heard Chica move after them. Her loud footsteps trailed behind, which only made Freddy go faster.

She'd been perfectly fine until Gregory showed his face. Even if she registered him as an “intruder,” she shouldn't have started chasing him... It almost seemed like her programming reset at the sight of the child.

Freddy couldn’t deny it any longer: there was definitely some sort of glitch or bug infecting all of his bandmates.

However, the bear wasn’t able dwell on this too much, needing to get Gregory to safety immediately. He spared a thought for Charlie as well, hoping she was alright—though she clearly wasn't the focus of Chica's attention.

Charlie had been trailing them, trying to distract the chicken to no avail. It was when Freddy and Gregory almost reached the rockstar’s room that she made a last-ditch move, sticking out a gangly leg to trip their pursuer. Chica let out a scared squawk before hitting the ground, causing a metallic scrapping noise as she slid across the linoleum floors. Crawling over Chica’s momentarily incapacitated body, Puppet muttered an apology as she attempted to catch up to the boys.

Gregory had shrieked once, then shut his eyes as Freddy scooped him into his arms and sped away. “Don’t let her eat me!”

Freddy simply held Gregory as tight as he could without unintentionally cutting off his air flow. He winced as he heard Chica's distress and the metallic scraping, but did his best to ignore it. Soon they all made it into his room and he slammed the door shut behind Charlie.

“Close the curtains!” Freddy hissed, moving Gregory to the far corner by the arcade machine. He could see Chica coming towards them again, but he had a theory. “She went haywire when she saw Gregory—maybe if we cut him off from view she will calm down, or at least lose interest for the time being!”

Charlie was huffing, as if running had actually tired her out. She did as instructed, drawing the heavy red curtains shut save for a tiny sliver that she peered one eye through. Morbid curiosity prompted Gregory’s attempt to look out as well, but his vision was successfully blocked by both Freddy and the drapes.

Outside, the now-limping Chica grew more and more confused. Why… was she in the middle of Rockstar Row? Wasn’t she just talking with Freddy and Charlie in her room? And why was she hurt, too? Internal processing relayed to her that she has minor dents in her hip joint now, preventing her leg from stretching out smoothly as she walked.

“What the heck…?” she could be heard muttering, rubbing the sore spot briefly before deciding it best to walk back to her room.

“Freddy! All your friends are psycho!” Gregory accused as he was finally set down, plopping onto the orange couch.

“I am so sorry, Gregory,” the bear apologized, kneeling down and conducting a health scan of the boy. Thankfully there were no new injuries from their brief scare, only an elevated heart rate that was already slowing to a normal pace. “My friends are not themselves—I promise you that they would never do this under normal circumstances. As Charlie said earlier, they are just... sick.” He glanced at the Puppet, giving her a grateful smile before looking back to Gregory.

“But we still have one friend on our side!” He patted the lithe animatronic's shoulder as she came over to join them. “Thank you for your help, Charlie. Chica was faster than I expected...”

Charlie was surprised at the gentleness of Freddy’s pat. The genuine praise almost made the short scare worth it, along with the good health of the child under their care. When Charlie saw the look of upset still lingering on Gregory’s face—distrust, even—she assured him: “I was never updated with the new operating system. If this is a glitch, it’d never affect me.”

While she spoke, she comfortably leaned against Freddy’s side. It was nice to have friends again, even if one of them was still wary of her. After a moment of tense staring Gregory visibly deflated, convinced enough by Charlie’s and Freddy’s testimonies of their good intentions.

“What am I gonna do now? I can’t stay here—Vanessa’s gonna end up finding me,” he pointed out glumly.

“We are still getting you to a security office,” Freddy said, shifting so Charlie’s embrace was more secure. He didn’t mind her hanging off him at all—in a vague way, it almost reminded Freddy of a kid who’d found their favorite animatronic and just wanted to be close to them. Not that he assumed he was Charlie’s favorite, but it was nice to know that she was still comfortable with him despite how the other Glamrocks were acting.

“We need to go the Daycare and get that security badge,” Freddy continued. “I do not know what level clearance it will give us, but it will allow access to at least one office. They are designed to lock from the inside and be impenetrable to animatronics, so we will be safe in there.”

Unless the power goes out…

The random thought only crossed Freddy’s mind for a second, but it was enough to give him pause. He glanced down at Gregory, but his only urge was to protect. It was just a wayward concern; he was fine.

“So the plan is—” Charlie started, pulling away from Freddy as she slunk a protective arm around the kid now. “—we’re going to bring you to the Daycare, then we’ll find that pass!” She tried to promote the idea as if it were a piece of cake, despite the horrible way things had been going tonight.

Gregory eased into the notion of the more hands-on Puppet, no longer fidgeting at her embrace. He wondered briefly if robots could be touch-starved, but quickly banished the thought with a hesitantly optimistic look. “Y-Yeah! This should be easy with you guys here.”

“As easy as pizza-pie!” Freddy agreed, willing this to be true. “The only animatronic we have to be wary of is the Daycare attendant, although he is equipped with much more stringent child safely protocols than the others since he watches over babies and toddlers.” He gave the pair a reassuring smile. “I doubt he will be as easily affected by a virus, but we will keep Gregory close all the same.”

Freddy peered out the curtains, looking around intently. He was about to proclaim that the coast was clear when he caught a flash of white fabric, then a shining light. His eyes widened as he saw none other than Vanessa coming down the hallway, heading right for his room. The light caught Charlie’s attention and she joined him at the window, looking through the darkness and committing the night guard’s face to memory.

A rapid search through Puppet’s old criminal databanks to see if Vanessa matched anyone pulled up… nothing. Vanessa was clean. Maybe there was a chance that she hadn’t been behind this system glitch—could she truly just be doing a security guard’s job for once and actually trying to help a lost child?

Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to find out. Quickly pulling the curtains closed, Freddy ushered the others towards the back storage area.

“Vanessa is coming; hide in the back and do not make a sound!” Freddy instructed. “I will send her away as quickly as I can.”

With alarming speed, Charlie dragged Gregory through the door and into a storage locker. Her plush innards protected and kept him still, while also reducing the noise inside the locker—a good thing, since Gregory instantly started to protest to the man—er, robot-handling.

“Hey!” he yelped, unsure how he felt about being so immobilized.

Charlie simply fixed her hand over his mouth, squeezing him with gentle reassurance. “Shh.”

“Hello, Officer Vanessa!” Freddy said cheerfully as the guard stomped into his room without so much as a greeting. “To what do I owe the pleasure—?”

“Shut it, Freddy,” Vanessa snapped, poking her head into the storage area and scanning the room with her flashlight. Her gaze roamed over the boxes, extra merchandise, and lockers, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. With an annoyed click of her tongue, she backed out and faced the bear directly, placing one hand on her hip as she turned the flashlight on him accusingly. “You see a kid around here? Small, brown hair, blue shirt?”

“Ah—no, I am sorry.” Freddy shook his head, the amiable smile still plastered on his face. Despite his earlier claims of the animatronics' strict truth-telling protocols, he found it surprisingly easy to lie to the guard. “I have been in my room all night, as per staff instructions.”

“Ugh, great.” Vanessa rolled her eyes, already heading for the door. She certainly seemed like she was on a mission tonight. “Well, that kid is loose after hours… so if you see him come by, grab him and bring him to me, okay? The communication channels are down. Oh—” She whirled around, her hand on the door. “—but don’t wander around outside of Rockstar Row; you’re still on lockdown after that fiasco on stage earlier. Got it?”

“Understood.” Freddy nodded. The guard stared at him with narrowed eyes for a moment longer, then turned and rushed out to continue her search.

It was a few seconds after the door slammed shut before Puppet decided to open the locker. Gregory sat in her lap, folded cross-legged as he murmured curses aimed at the night guard.

“Language, Gregory,” Charlie reminded him, helping the boy to his feet before slinking out of the tight space. “Though I can’t say I blame you—Vanessa was awfully mean to you, Freddy…”

Charlie was aware that Freddy was just an AI. However, despite how simulated his feelings were, at some point they crossed a line and it was clear by the tilt of his eyebrows that people being unkind seemed to cause the big guy general discomfort.

“Yeah, ‘cause she’s a bad lady!” Gregory attempted to convince them both.

“She is certainly a bit more abrasive than usual tonight,” Freddy conceded. He ran another soothing paw over Gregory’s head, hoping to calm the boy down somewhat. He’d caught the tail end of his tirade of curses and wondered where in the world he’d learned such things… but that was a topic to address later. “But Vanessa is not bad; she simply wants to return you to your parents, Gregory.”

Even Freddy didn’t sound totally convinced by his own words. He met Charlie’s gaze, and though her expression was unreadable he could feel her mutual suspicion towards the night guard.

“I will keep your presence under wraps, though,” Freddy reassured, holding out his hand for Gregory to take again. “Hopefully once she sees what is happening with the other animatronics, she will be more inclined to help them first and pause her search for you.” With luck, Vanessa would notice the rampaging and rule-breaking robots and shift her focus to curbing their destruction.

Gregory felt conflicted. He didn’t want to argue with Freddy or the Puppet, his only friends in the Pizzaplex. But something about Vanessa just rubbed him the wrong way…

Charlie left their sides momentarily as she peeked into the hall. No sign of Vanessa or the Glamrock crew. Turning her head 180 degrees, she looked back at her companions and pointed to the exit.

“Good news; she’s already gone! Let’s hoof it to the Daycare before any of them see us,” Charlie suggested, shuffling back towards Gregory.

Better news would’ve been hearing that all the locked doors were suddenly broken, Gregory thought. But he perked up at their eagerness to assist. “Thanks for helping me, you guys. I don’t think my idea on reprogramming that dumb Map Bot would’ve done all that much…”

Those bots couldn’t think or act as swiftly as the Puppet or Freddy anyway. Gregory would’ve just been toting along dead weight.

“Yes… I applaud your resourcefulness, superstar, but how about you leave any mechanical repairs to Charlie and I from now on?” Freddy said, though by his tone it clearly wasn’t a question. He gave Gregory’s hand a reassuring squeeze and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. “Alright, stay close by me, you two.”

He hurried out, Gregory in tow beside him and Charlie keeping watch as she’d done before. They made a beeline for the Daycare and thankfully made it without encountering anymore wayward animatronics or night guards. Freddy pressed a hand against a key pad, which caused the first of two large garage-style doors to open. As they neared the drop-off area, they passed a large metal pod with a bright blue lightning bolt emblazoned on the front. Freddy paused, blinking a few times.

“Hmm… my battery is at half charge,” he announced, voice echoing through the open space. “I should be alright until we retrieve the security pass, but I will need to recharge afterwards to be at peak performance; my battery does not sustain itself as well in Safe Mode.”

“Safe Mode, huh?” Charlie thought that would’ve come in handy back in the day. She spared a brief glance back at Freddy, watching as Gregory grasped the bear’s hand tighter out of instinct. “I’d offer to turn it off, but that could be the only reason why you’re not acting weird like the others.”

“No, you are right—it is best to leave my Safe Mode on for now,” Freddy agreed, completely understanding the Puppet’s concern. The last thing he wanted was to become a threat to Gregory as well. He couldn’t live with himself if another kid—

Freddy blinked again. If another kid… what?

The thought was lost in an instant. With a shake of his head, Freddy peered through the protective netting surrounding the play area and let out a sigh. Charlie watched as Gregory parted from them to try and sneak behind. His goal was to find the keycard after all.

“Don’t go too far ahead, Gregory,” Charlie felt the need to say, her eye catching movement atop the theatrical balcony towards the ceiling of the rainbow room.

“Oh, Sun closed the door again…,” Freddy murmured, looking around for the attendant. Whatever movement Charlie caught was gone by the time his eyes fell upon the balcony, Sun having not realized there were visitors yet and retreated back to his room. Freddy thought for moment, then offered a suggestion. “Gregory, would you like to take Charlie with you down the slide? That is the quickest way into the play area; the security office pass should be at the desk near the wooden doors. You will probably be able to grab it by the time I am able to get down there myself, since you are both so fast!”

He offered the boy a bright grin. He was hesitant to let Gregory leave his side of course, but with Charlie there to protect him surely he’d be alright for a few minutes. And besides, going down the slide and landing in a ball pit would help Gregory feel like a normal kid again, if only for a moment.

Gregory glanced to the bright plastic tube. Somehow the “Slide into fun!” sign made him uneasy. There probably wasn’t any fun to be had down there—just more robots trying their best to eat his brains. However, Freddy’s confidence in him allowed Gregory to approach the slide tentatively.

“You can count on us, Freddy!” Charlie assured, grasping onto the boy’s waist before flinging them both down. If they were going to be in potential danger, they might as well make their entrance fun!

Gregory gasped, though enjoyed the short ride before landing in the ball pit below. Upon their arrival, Puppet decided to look around. Freddy mentioned a Daycare attendant, and she thought it would be smart to gauge whether or not they would be safe enough to let near Gregory.

“Charlie, let me up!” the kid griped, but was shushed by his companion.

“Just hang tight; I’m scoping it out.” Charlie spoke in a whisper, gently covering Gregory with a few more of the plastic balls around them for good measure.

“But the ball pit smells funny!” he groaned as Charlie swam ahead in the sea of toys.

“Oh ho ho!”

Suddenly, there was a loud yell from the little stage. Summoned by the noise of plastic clinking together, Sun stepped out onto the platform. Before Freddy had a chance to call out on his long way around to the door, the lanky animatronic clasped his hands above his head and dove.

“Hello there!” Sun exclaimed, popping up in the pit directly in front of Charlie. The Daycare attendant was the tallest animatronic in the Pizzaplex they’d encountered so far, though his tendency to jump around and sway made this fact a little hard to tell at first glance. Sun looked Charlie over with a gasp, pressing his hands to the sides of his face—like him, this new animatronic wore a mask with a static expression.

“Oh, a new friend!” Sun cheered, reaching forward and shaking one of Charlie’s hands vigorously. “It’s sooo nice to meet you! I’m Sun! What’s your name?!”

In an almost comical manner, the Puppet’s arm wiggled like a piece of limp spaghetti in Sun’s grip. Eager, and maybe a little too friendly, but Charlie didn’t mind it. She attempted to shake his hand back, but there was no chance she could match his fast-paced rhythm.

“I’m the Puppet!” she laughed, the initial grasp of her face making her laugh. At least there was one other animatronic that looked like her now. “My friends call me Charlie. It’s swell to meet you!”

Maybe there was a chance she could distract the Sun while Gregory found the keycard…

“Is this where you live?” she asked, holding onto the Sun’s hand to keep him focused on her. “I’m new to the Pizzaplex; you should show me around!”

“Mmm-hmm!” Sun nodded, his whole body seeming to move with the gesture. “My room’s up there, but I spend most of my time out here in the play area! Are you going to work in the Daycare—?”

He stopped mid-sentence, catching movement behind Charlie. Someone else was in the ball pit, and they were a lot smaller than any animatronic Sun knew of. Without hesitation the Daycare attendant dropped Charlie’s hand and shifted past her before she could react.

“Well hello, little sunbeam!” he exclaimed, reaching into the colorful plastic to grasp Gregory under the shoulders and hoist him into the air. Unlike previous animatronics, Sun gave no indication that he was distressed by the child’s presence—in fact, this discovery only seemed to make him more excited, and he jumped from foot to foot with Gregory swinging gently in his grasp. “You're sure up late! Are we having a slumber party?!”

Gregory was ready to fight him, little fists balled up as he was scooped from the pit… but he sputtered for a moment at the cheery question. It was both a relief and confusing for Gregory to see the attendant in such a good mood and not attempting to rip his head off.

“Slumber party?” he asked tentatively. Kicking his little legs did no good to sway out of Sun’s grip. Those delicate mechanical hands held him firmly off the ground with no chance of escape.

“Uh… Right, I was going to take him to the security office! Me and Gregory were looking for the access cards. Right, Greg?” Charlie asked, hoping the boy would play along.

“R-Right! Yeah, I’m a lost kid!” Gregory said, putting on his best pair of sad puppy dog eyes.

Another gasp, another concerned little squeeze of Gregory's torso—not aggressive in the slightest, though Sun's grip wasn't going to loosen anytime soon.

“Oh no, oh no!” Sun exclaimed, carrying Gregory out of the ball pit. He began making his way towards the other side of the room, chattering all the while. “Don't worry, we'll get you all sorted and back with your parents in no time! Hmm... Although it's after hours, so you'll probably need to stay with the night guard for a bit.”

Sun paused, tilting his head as he tried to connect to Vanessa. To his surprise, he was unable to do so.

“Huh... the network’s down,” he commented, staring ahead for a moment longer before resuming his walk. “Well, that's okay! We do have an access card for the security office at the desk, although according to the rules neither of us is allowed to go back there! Charlie, you might not know this since you're new, but we have to follow the Daycare rules or we'll get in trouble! There aren't too many, though—but staying away from the security desk is one of them.”

Finally, Sun stopped near a stack of metal cans. “You can just wait here and play with me and Charlie until the night guard stops by on her rounds, okay?! Ooh, we're going to have so much fun!”

They were in a tight spot here. With Freddy most likely waiting outside attempting not to be caught himself and the promise of them surely being in trouble should they go behind the check-in counter, Charlie’s last resort was to pull a fast one on the friendly Sun. Meeting Gregory’s gaze as he peered down from Sun’s arms, she hoped her static, expressionless face would convey the wink she wanted to give him.

“Yeah! Gregory, you gotta show us how high you can stack those cans!” she said, suggesting something that would cause Sun to put him down.

“Seriously?” Gregory wanted to scoff. He was twelve, and this place was obviously for babies. For a second, he’d been sure the Puppet was serious. Though as she tugged on Sun’s pants, beckoning him astray, he got the picture.

“Oh… Ooohh, totally! I’ll build the biggest tower you’ve ever seen!” Gregory promised, turning his toothy smile on the tall animatronic.

“Come on, Mr. Sun! You gotta show me around the most spectacular attraction at the Pizzaplex!” Charlie’s words held some forced excitement, just wanting to get this over with—even if she did gravitate towards this area more than the rest of the attractions.

“Oh, um... okay!” Sun agreed, somewhat reluctantly setting Gregory down and letting Charlie tug him forward. His first instinct would always be to watch after the children in his Daycare, although seeing as how there was only one kid right now and he was clearly older than those Sun usually took care of—and therefore, more independent—he was okay showing Charlie around while keeping an eye on the boy.

“Wait, wait—there's just two more rules I have to tell you before you can play, little sunbeam!” Sun insisted, stopping in his tracks and causing Charlie to pause as well. “One: if you make a mess, please clean up after yourself! And two...” He seemed to freeze for just a second, head tilting ever-so-slightly off-kilter. It was a barely noticeable gesture, but it was definitely there. “...Keep the lights on.”

Another pause, then Sun returned to his usual demeanor, hopping excitedly. “As long as you follow those instructions, we're all going to be best friends!”

Gregory flinched at the sudden turn of Sun’s head, the sight only adding to the ominous rule. Okay, he’d definitely keep the lights on if he could help it. The thought of being swathed in darkness only reminded him of his brief brush with death at Monty’s claws…

“You got it, Sun!” Gregory assured as Puppet glanced around the huge dome-like structure of the play area.

Alright, her mind was made up. If Charlie’s fate was to remain in the Pizzaplex, she’d definitely love to stay here, slithering through the ball pits and resting inside the padded, foam and metal castle structures.

As Gregory was finally released and hurried off to play—or rather, look for his opportunity to slip behind the counter unnoticed—Charlie decided to ask Sun some questions.

“…You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?” she inquired, concern in her voice as she squeezed the tall animatronic’s hand.

“Oh no, no!” Sun let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “I'm perfectly fine with the dark—it wouldn't be good if I was afraid of naptime! It's just...” He trailed off for a moment, gazing upwards. It was hard to tell in the brightly-lit Daycare, but the ceiling was littered with glow stars that were one of the few sources of illumination when the room went dark. “When the lights go off, my safety protocols are amped up due to the children being asleep and extra-vulnerable. It's... basically like I have another mode, so to speak. Since I'm Sun, everyone calls him Moon!”

He gave another chuckle, though this was one noticeably quieter. “Moon can be a little much after hours though, which is why they keep the lights on nowadays.”

Though Sun couldn't fully recall what happened when he was in that state, he'd been lectured multiple times on being overzealous in thinking Moon saw “intruders.” Due to this, he'd ended up scaring away quite a few night guards before Vanessa got promoted.

Sun soon perked up, not wanting to worry Charlie with such vague concerns. “Oh, Moon wouldn't do anything bad though—it's just that some of the kids tend to be afraid of him, and I wouldn't want Gregory to be one of them!”

Charlie touched under the chin of her mask as she reflected on his words. “How considerate. Thanks, Sun.”

She appreciated that he was as easy-going as Freddy. With a hardy squeeze of his palm, Charlie laughed in remembrance. “I had a sleep mode as well. It’s sort of broken now, but the music box inside still works!”

She turned, showing off the turnkey that jutted from between what would’ve been shoulder blades. While she had Sun’s attention, Charlie figured she might as well attempt to slowly convince him that things weren’t going so well outside the Daycare. Heck, maybe he could provide some help in figuring all this out!

“Gregory told me earlier the other animatronics have been scaring him. Did you happen to see the bandages on the kid’s face?” she pointed out quietly. “He got those from running away…”

“What?!” Sun exclaimed, standing up after examining the Puppet's key with interest. If his expression could change, his eyes would be wide with shock. “I saw Gregory was hurt, but all his injuries were either healing or patched up so my first-aid protocol didn't kick in... But that can't be true that the others scared him—they're the sweetest friends ever!” He now had both hands free, which he immediately clasped together in front of his chest. “Is something wrong with them?!”

The reaction was so genuine, Charlie had only been able to muster a nod before consoling him. The poor guy just wanted everyone to play and have fun. He didn’t need this kind of stress, artificial as it may be.

“Freddy and I think they’re just sick right now. It’s good to see you’re okay, Sun… But that’s why we needed the security card!” Charlie glanced around, unable to spy Gregory as she leaned in and whispered to the attendant. “Gregory told me he’s wary of the night guard, too. Honestly, I don’t blame him…”

“Who, Vanessa?” Sun questioned, then shook his head. “She's grumpy, but she's harmless!”

Then he stopped. Charlie's comment about the access card made him think that something was going on that wasn't necessarily supposed to be... Standing to full height, Sun peered around the Daycare until he spotted a tiny figure darting behind the security desk.

“Oh no—hey, new friend!” Sun called, instantly starting towards Gregory. “That area is off-limits! You're gonna get us in trouble!”

“Yeah, Gregory! Be a good boy, gosh!” Charlie chided, watching as an annoyed Gregory was picked up and toted away back towards the jungle gym. She reached over and tussled his soft brown hair as he pouted up to her. What she wanted to say was: Be faster!

Gregory looked like an annoyed cat trying to dead weight and go limp in Sun’s hands, but the robot was far too strong for such a trick.

“I wasn’t doing anything! Honest!” he whined, the explanation falling on deaf ears. It was a clear lie; turns out Gregory wasn’t a great bluffer.

“You have to obey the rules!” Sun scolded, waving a finger in the boy’s face after placing him on the ground. Then he seemed to deflate slightly, gently patting the top of Gregory's head. “I'm not trying to be mean, you know—the rules are just to make sure everyone is safe!”

He spared a glance at Charlie, silently asking for her collaboration. The last thing Sun wanted was for Gregory to be upset with him, too.

Sun had a point. It wasn’t like Charlie was going to argue with the robot. After all, under normal circumstances he’d absolutely be in trouble for letting the kids run amuck! So, Charlie crossed her arms and remarked: “There’s plenty of better places to play, Gregory…”

“Okay! Okay, I won’t go back there…,” Gregory replied, scuffing the padding below his feet with a lazy kick. The moment that Sun turned his back, Charlie crossed her arms in an X formation. She hoped the kid would get her meaning not to try anything for a few more minutes, though it was clear to see that Gregory was growing impatient.

“There's so many things we can do to entertain ourselves!” Sun exclaimed, back to his usual cheery self. “We can draw, finger paint, and drink Fizzy-Faz until our heads explode!” He was slipping into dialogue usually reserved for younger kids, but that's who he was designed to care for, after all. He clapped his hands, bouncing from foot to foot. “Ooh, ooh—do you like glitter glue?!”

While all of this was going on within the play area, Freddy was biding his time just outside the wooden doors. They were locked from the inside, and even with his strength he knew he wouldn't be able to open them. He could hear most of the conversations and no one sounded distressed, so for now Freddy was content to keep watch for Vanessa or any of his bandmates. He just hoped Gregory was able to snatch that security badge soon; being so out in the open was starting to make the bear nervous and was giving him time to dwell on his thoughts... which he really didn't want to do right now.

Inside, the pair played alongside Sun—something Gregory may have warmed up to. But only because the experience was liminal for him. Having these robots entertain him, keeping him safe… It felt nice, even if he wouldn’t ever admit it out loud. They gathered together building towers of cans, laughing when Gregory knocked them down only for Sun to fix up the area by stacking them obsessively again.

“Hey Sun? What was that you said about glitter glue?” Charlie elbowed him softly, as if suggesting he find some. Despite the fun, she hadn’t forgotten their objective to find the access card.

“Right? I mean, you mentioned all that cool arts and crafts stuff! Where’s it at?” Gregory asked, understanding that it was time to try again.

“Oh! It’s over there!” Sun replied, pointing to a corner of the Daycare full of shelves. The glitter glue was up high, far out of reach of any grabby hands. He stood, eager to do whatever Gregory wanted; the boy really seemed to be having fun now!

“Do you want me to get it? We can make some cool projects!” He let out a small gasp as an idea struck him. “Maybe you can make something for your faaaavorite animatronic—that’s what lots of kids do!”

Then he froze, remembering Charlie’s comment. In a gentler voice, Sun added: “If there’s any you do like, that is—if not, you can make something for yourself! That’s okay, too!”

“You’ve definitely met three good friends, right Gregory?” Charlie said, hoping it would help ease Sun’s little slip-up. Not that it was his fault; he was just giving the kid some ideas.

Gregory offered a ghost of a smile. It was tired, definitely, yet so genuine it made Charlie’s heart melt.

“I definitely have! Uh… We’re gonna need some scissors and construction paper, too!” Gregory made sure to call after as Sun bounded towards the supplies.

Once Charlie placed the last can on the top of the pyramid they created together, she turned and watched as Sun stretched up to reach the high shelf. She was about to offer her help, when she heard the soft and cushioned sound of sneakers slapping against the rubber matting below them. Her head turned quickly, shocked at how fast Gregory broke into a dead sprint for the counter. He’d already ducked behind the thing before she could even react.

Suddenly, Charlie had a bad feeling. As she lurched after him, that sinking, twisting feeling inside grew. Its familiar sting reminded her of when she first woke up here—the sheer wrongness deep in her soul.

“Gregory, wait!” she yelled, dropping all pretenses of hiding their actions from Sun. If her gut was right, they might need those security protocols after all…

Sun whirled around at the shout, just in time to see a tiny hand pop out from under the desk and snatch up the security badge. He gave a little sigh of affectionate exasperation, starting to walk to the desk after the Puppet.

“Come on, little sunbeam, we already talked about this—”

His words were suddenly cut off with a choked-off gasp as out of nowhere the Daycare went dark. There was a soft chuckle from the direction of the main garage doors, though no one but Gregory and Charlie seemed to respond to it.

“Hee hee~ Are you having fun yet?” a feminine voice called in a lilting, sing-song tone.

***

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murdereraisuha · 2 years

Text

Chapter 6 part 4 liveblog and summary (Tower 1 and Tower 2, part 2)

Another day, yet more story to read.

Warning for spoilers and possible mistranslations.

Now, we’re going back to the Pomefiore group. While they’re preparing to move on from the hanger, Epel offers to carry the Thunder Spear since he wasn’t much help in the battle against the titan compared to Rook and Vil. When the spear’s not turned on, it’s a lot less heavy and powerful so even Epel can handle it by himself. Rook says he understands the feeling of wanting to carry luggage for Vil.

Back when he and Vil entered school, even people from other dorms would offer to help Vil when Vil went shopping. However that wasn’t how Rook and Vil met. Instead, yet another phantom attack keeps Vil from telling us how he and Rook met. They continue as soon as it’s defeated though:

When Vil was sitting in the courtyard reading a script, Rook called out to him because Vil’s appearance in the afternoon light was very beautiful. Rook says he was nervous, but Vil imitates how Rook said he saw a recent performance that Vil was in... and he didn’t pay much attention to Vil. Instead, he gushes about the acting of the antagonist. Yikes. After that first meeting, Rook started giving Vil both critique and praise about the work he was involved in while Vil ignored him, but eventually Vil realized how insightful Rook’s opinions were and starting talking back to him. They also started talking about other movies, plays, etc. that they both had seen. Once, they kept talking to each other in the courtyard even while it was snowing and then they both got sick. Epel asks why they didn’t just talk in their dorm, and Rook replies that he was actually a Savanaclaw student at that time. Oh wow what

The conversation finally ends there when the group reaches the next asylum. Instead of Ortho appearing, a blindfolded and tied up staff member calls out to them. After Rook unties him, the staff and the group explain their situations to each other. The guy was captured by a Charon, brought here, and had his ID card stolen. The ID card was of course placed into a cage, so time to beat up some more phantoms. As they start making their way through phantoms, Vil praises Epel for being able to hit a fast moving target and Epel talks about how Magift club has helped him.

After many more cages and bits of conversation I don’t care enough about to talk about, Vil wonders what his phantom would have looked like if he wasn’t snapped out of overblot. He believes that the old woman that appeared behind him when he overblotted may represent him associating youth with beauty and therefore fearing old age. After that, they find the ID card being held by a phantom talking about meat and being hungry. The staff member wonders about the group’s safety if they continue into Tartarus, but just wishes them safety when they make clear that they have to continue on.

Finally, Epel can satisfy our curiosity by asking about Rook being in Savanaclaw. Savanaclaw was the dorm the mirror placed him in, and he had a good time there. However, he choose to transfer to Pomefiore in search of greater understanding of beauty. Though Savanaclaw was beautiful in its own way, the dorm founded on the spirit of the beautiful queen would help him reach his goal faster. It would also let him be closer to Vil. Vil then says that after Rook transferred, he really stuck out in the dorm due to his unkempt hair, sun burnt skin, and choice of practical, worn out clothes. Epel is confused by how Rook searched for beauty but was careless about his appearance back then. VIl and Rook explain that Rook didn’t care about his own appearance much, but Vil gave him advice and helped him coordinate his clothes and such. There’s a bit more to it than that, but I’m kind of getting tired of this conversation so I’m just moving on lol.

The next conversation interrupter comes in the form of this zooming across the screen.

OH GOD IS OUR BOY HERE???

NOPE it’s just another phantom. bruh. After that little trick, the group enters the next asylum. After waiting for a bit in the eerily silent asylum for Ortho, he doesn’t appear and the group starts brainstorming how they can get out. Epel suggests the Thunder Spear but that idea’s shot down quick. Vil suggests trying to find the emergency exit card key in the security box talked about in the manual given to them by the staff, since it might not have been removed by Ortho. However, the security box turns out to be utterly destroyed, with splotches of ink surrounding it. They think a phantom might have stolen the key, and it may be hiding from them and waiting for the right moment to ambush them.

All of a sudden, the cages start rattling around. Epel points out the first cage to act up, they defeat the phantom inside, and everything goes silent again. After a while, they hear the sound of a cage door creaking open. Rook defeats the phantom whose cage opened. What the hell is going on with these phantoms? The group continues encountering and defeating phantoms to try and find the one who took the key. That is is all I’m going to say about most of the 15 minutes they spend in there lmao I’m not summarizing all the random side conversations. Finally, they hear the banging of the Titan comes from outside the door. They then use the Thunder Spear to blast through both the Titan and the door.

Everyone is exhausted, but there is a hanger nearby they can use to charge the Thunder Spear again and rest. They don’t have the time to fully charge it again, so they plan to just charge it halfway before continuing. AS they settle down, Vil reflects on how much has changed in the past few days, especially how his view of Idia and Ortho has changed, and also what the future will bring. Vil and Epel then go to sleep, but are woken up by a loud bang. Taking the only 30% charged Thunder Spear, they leave to investigate.

ANYWAY time to go back to best boys Leona and Jamil. Jamil offers to carry the Thunder Spear, but Leona refuses. Jamil still insists though, and Leona actually growls at him. Before it can become a full blown argument, they’re attacked by phantoms. While fighting, the phantoms target Jamil’s previous injury and Leona has to help. Afterwards, Jamil says that he’ll think of plan to make himself useful, but Leona tells him that he’s being intrusive and too cocky. Leona thinks that Jamil looks down on others and Jamil says the same to him, but Leona says that it’s okay for him since he actually power and ability that warrants his attitude. On the other hand, Jamil can’t even match up to his peers Azul and Riddle, let alone his upperclassmen Leona and Vil. Leona gives some brief analyses of Riddle and Azul’s strengths before he cuts off the conversation to enter the next asylum. Bruh, I kinda feel bad for Jamil now.

Instead of Ortho, the duo are greeted by a researcher on top of a cage. Like the guy the Pomefiore group met, this one was captured and brought here by a Charon, but this one was just instructed to “enjoy a game of tag.” Suddenly,

omg I am so torn on whether or not I wish this is a fake again, on one hand I wanna know what’s going on with our boy, on the other I don’t want to see him feral again.

The researcher then exclaims that whatever that shadow zooming around was, it has his ID card. It zooms into a cage, so yet again it’s search the cages time. Blah blah blah, the creature with the ID card turns out to be a shadow, and the duo leave the asylum without much in the way of interesting conversation taking place.

Afterwards, Leona belittles Jamil until Jamil finally snaps and explodes at him.

Jamil: ... You...

Jamil: What do you know about me?

Jamil: About what I’ve felt my whole life!? About what pain I’ve gone through!?

Jamil: There’s no way you understand! No way anyone does! You and I are different!!!

Leona: You say that no one understands you, and like that you sulk, fret, and make excuses?

Leona: I know a little about your situation. After all, you think that you’re underappreciated because of Kalim, right?

Jamil: ... I am the vice dorm leader, and that Kalim is the dorm leader. These results show everything.

Leona: Yes, that’s how it is now. His magic and his brains are both bad. He can’t compare to you.

Leona: However, he has a unifying power that you don’t have.

Jamil: Unifying power? Ha!

Jamil: He’s just a good-natured person, isn’t he. He’ll just be used and taken advantage of.

Leona: Who said that this was a conversation about character? Look, the best unifying power is...

Leona: Money.

Jamil: Money!?

Jamil: It... The Asim family definitely has tremendous wealth and power, that I can admit.

Leona: Money is a strong power that is more certain and has less variables than magic.

Leona: The knowledge of that has made a deeper impression on you than it has me, hasn’t it?

Jamil: That is...

Leona: Thus, Kalim is currently in the process of learning how to command that enormous power.

Jamil: Command...

*flashback to Kalim offering to use his money to fix up Ramshackle dorm*

Jamil: ...

Leona: Those who act without thinking of the consequences are foolish. However, those who only think about the consequences are even more foolish.

Leona: Those who leap based on their intuition like Kalim does, you don’t know how they’ll turn out. For better or worse.

Leona: There’s nothing more unsightly than making excuses when you let your prey escape because you spent too long timing your pounce. Hahaha.

Jamil: I...

Phantom: GYAOOOO!!

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa this conversation!!!!!!! this is the good stuff right here!!! oh my god!!!! Then, after the phantom is dealt with, Jamil says that he should leave. Leona calls him extreme and tells him to use his head already and think about what his capabilities really are. AAAAAAAAA I wanna translate this part too but I’ve already spent so much time on this. Leona proceeds to use the other Savanaclaw boys and himself as examples. He tells Jamil to stop making excuses for himself and really think about what he should do, and Jamil proceeds to actually take it to heart and think about his past spent being angry about others being placed above him. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OK YES THIS GROUP IS MY FAVORITE THIS IS SUCH A GOOD INTERACITON I LOVE THSI. wait Leona what was that at the end. Why did you say “you and I are different” in small font. No, bad lion. Stop being ominous. >:(

Okay anyway, the duo move on to the next asylum. When they walk in it’s so dark they can’t see, so Jamil casts some magic to light up the room. The sight of a bunch of cages smashed into pieces startles them both. Jamil notices ice mixed in with the bits, so Leona guesses this is the work of the Titan they fought before. Since they don’t want to get into a fight with both the Titan and other phantoms at the same time, they decide to try and find the key to lock the door and trap the phantoms in the asylum. However, it’s gone, so they have to find the phantom who has it. Welcome to another 10 minutes of going through cages and beating phantoms up. LMAOOO LEONA STOP ALMOST HITTING JAMIL WITH YOUR ATTACKS, LEAVE YOUR KOUHAI IN PEACE

They finally retrieve the key and leave the asylum, but are instantly confronted by the titan. Jamil’s about to do his usual protective commanding thing before he awkwardly catches himself and simply entrusts the beating of the Titan to Leona. Leona blasts the Titan into the pit with the Thunder Spear again, but afterwards he collapses. OH SHIT LEONA BRUH This is why the others didn’t use the spear by themselves!!! What are you doing!!!

He still has enough strength to get to the hanger, where he calls Jamil a snake bastard and makes him stick the Thunder Spear in the charging station. Jamil then thanks Leona for before, and he also admits that he was being too arrogant and he still has a ways to go.

2 hit smile combo!

After a brief comedy moment with Leona being picky about food and drink, they rest in the hanger for a bit. However, like the Pomefiore group, a loud sound disturbs them when the Thunder Spear is only 30% charged, and they rush off to the Underworld

I think it’ll be best to pace myself with this update since it’s so long, so I’m going to save Tower 3 part 2 and whatever lies after that for tomorrow. See y’all then!

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst jp #twst spoilers #update screaming

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my-weird-news · 8 months

Text

💔 Britney Spears & Sam Asghari: Unbelievable Divorce Drama!

#BritneyBreakup: Oops, They Did It Again! Hey there, party people! Gather 'round for the latest chapter in the never-ending drama of #BritneyBreakup! So, you won't believe it—Britney Spears and her handsome sidekick, Sam Asghari, are calling it quits after just a whole year of marital bliss. I mean, I've had toothbrushes that lasted longer than that! Hold onto your hair extensions, because Mr. Asghari has packed his bags and decided to ghost Britney's abode like a phantom in a rom-com. Just yesterday, we were swooning over their wedding pics, and now they're dropping the bombshell like it's a surprise party gone horribly wrong. Let's take a stroll down the red carpet of memory lane, shall we? Back in 2016, when flared jeans and questionable hairstyles were still a thing, a young chap named Sam found himself cast as the "boy toy" in Britney's music video. Ah, modern romance at its finest! Fast forward, and before you can say "hashtag relationship goals," they're hitting the Instagram "official" button. Because, clearly, a relationship is only real once it's Facebook status-worthy, right? But wait, folks, this is no ordinary love story. Britney had a conservatorship situation going on, which sounds fancy but basically meant her dad held the keys to her life choices, even down to deciding whether she should be parting ways with her IUD. Yep, a legal entity decided whether her uterus had a future or not. Awkward family dinner conversations just took a wild turn! Oh, and speaking of turns, have you heard of the documentary "Framing Britney Spears"? It hit the scene like a meteor, leaving everyone with jaws on the floor, going, "Wait, what?" Suddenly, we all felt like we needed detective hats to solve the mystery of "What's been happening to our girl?" Enter the #FreeBritney movement, and our man Sam, rocking #FreeBritney tees like he was the president of the fan club. Talk about commitment! Then, the grand finale arrived: the conservatorship got the boot, and the lovebirds headed to the wedding chapel. Celebs swarmed in, and apparently, there were even golden-hoofed horses making a cameo. Because if your wedding doesn't include mythical creatures, is it even a wedding? But wait, folks, the plot thickens! Out of the blue, a blast from Britney's past, Jason Alexander (no, not that Seinfeld guy), crashes the party. He insists they're still married from some wild Vegas escapade back in 2004. Somebody get this guy an Oscar for best dramatic entrance in a breakup narrative! Hold onto your fedoras (I'm assuming you're wearing one), because things take a nosedive. Britney's behavior goes full-on rollercoaster meets earthquake with a side of sibling feuds and nighttime kidnapping fears. And just when you thought the party couldn't get wilder, a TMZ doc points fingers at her for substance issues. But fear not, for our hero Sam steps in, throwing shade at the documentary like a pro-level shady tree. And now, folks, brace yourselves for the ultimate twist. TMZ drops the bomb that Sam's accusing Britney of playing the cheating game! Rumors fly faster than pigeons when you throw popcorn at them, and suddenly, the town's buzzing like a caffeinated beehive. Wait, there's more! Page Six spills the beans that Sam wants a bigger chunk of change and threatens to spill all the tea. I can practically see him clutching a secret diary labeled "Britney's Most Embarrassing Moments." Reality TV, eat your heart out! So, what's the moral of this rollercoaster-on-steroids tale? Love's a bumpy ride, and celebrity love is like a rollercoaster designed by a mad scientist. And hey, if you're into weird tales and rollercoaster journalism that leaves your head spinning, consider throwing a coin to Vox. They're all about brain-teasing content without emptying your wallet. Because understanding the world shouldn't be limited to the brunches of caviar-eating elites. So, will you join the curious carnival? 🎢💸🌎#BritneyBreakup: Oops, They Did It Again! Hey there, party people! Gather 'round for the latest chapter in the never-ending drama of #BritneyBreakup! So, you won't believe it—Britney Spears and her handsome sidekick, Sam Asghari, are calling it quits after just a whole year of marital bliss. I mean, I've had toothbrushes that lasted longer than that! Hold onto your hair extensions, because Mr. Asghari has packed his bags and decided to ghost Britney's abode like a phantom in a rom-com. Just yesterday, we were swooning over their wedding pics, and now they're dropping the bombshell like it's a surprise party gone horribly wrong. Let's take a stroll down the red carpet of memory lane, shall we? Back in 2016, when flared jeans and questionable hairstyles were still a thing, a young chap named Sam found himself cast as the "boy toy" in Britney's music video. Ah, modern romance at its finest! Fast forward, and before you can say "hashtag relationship goals," they're hitting the Instagram "official" button. Because, clearly, a relationship is only real once it's Facebook status-worthy, right? But wait, folks, this is no ordinary love story. Britney had a conservatorship situation going on, which sounds fancy but basically meant her dad held the keys to her life choices, even down to deciding whether she should be parting ways with her IUD. Yep, a legal entity decided whether her uterus had a future or not. Awkward family dinner conversations just took a wild turn! Oh, and speaking of turns, have you heard of the documentary "Framing Britney Spears"? It hit the scene like a meteor, leaving everyone with jaws on the floor, going, "Wait, what?" Suddenly, we all felt like we needed detective hats to solve the mystery of "What's been happening to our girl?" Enter the #FreeBritney movement, and our man Sam, rocking #FreeBritney tees like he was the president of the fan club. Talk about commitment! Then, the grand finale arrived: the conservatorship got the boot, and the lovebirds headed to the wedding chapel. Celebs swarmed in, and apparently, there were even golden-hoofed horses making a cameo. Because if your wedding doesn't include mythical creatures, is it even a wedding? But wait, folks, the plot thickens! Out of the blue, a blast from Britney's past, Jason Alexander (no, not that Seinfeld guy), crashes the party. He insists they're still married from some wild Vegas escapade back in 2004. Somebody get this guy an Oscar for best dramatic entrance in a breakup narrative! Hold onto your fedoras (I'm assuming you're wearing one), because things take a nosedive. Britney's behavior goes full-on rollercoaster meets earthquake with a side of sibling feuds and nighttime kidnapping fears. And just when you thought the party couldn't get wilder, a TMZ doc points fingers at her for substance issues. But fear not, for our hero Sam steps in, throwing shade at the documentary like a pro-level shady tree. And now, folks, brace yourselves for the ultimate twist. TMZ drops the bomb that Sam's accusing Britney of playing the cheating game! Rumors fly faster than pigeons when you throw popcorn at them, and suddenly, the town's buzzing like a caffeinated beehive. Wait, there's more! Page Six spills the beans that Sam wants a bigger chunk of change and threatens to spill all the tea. I can practically see him clutching a secret diary labeled "Britney's Most Embarrassing Moments." Reality TV, eat your heart out! So, what's the moral of this rollercoaster-on-steroids tale? Love's a bumpy ride, and celebrity love is like a rollercoaster designed by a mad scientist. And hey, if you're into weird tales and rollercoaster journalism that leaves your head spinning, consider throwing a coin to Vox. They're all about brain-teasing content without emptying your wallet. Because understanding the world shouldn't be limited to the brunches of caviar-eating elites. So, will you join the curious carnival? 🎢💸🌎 Read the full article

0 notes

no-droids · 3 years

Text

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

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

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

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

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

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

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

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

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

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

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

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

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

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

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

And it was fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well. Fair.

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking abou—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–6:15am:

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

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

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

***

Day 1–7:06am:

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

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

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

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

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

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

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

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

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–12:00am:

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

“Wake up.”

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

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

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

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

No—

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you did. You in another tree?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t need to ask.

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

***

Day 2–5:34am:

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

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

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

Din is asleep? Seriously?

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Op. Not good. “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it. “How long?”

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

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

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

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

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

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

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

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh. What the fuck was that?

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

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

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

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

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

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

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

Day 3–12:00am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me your coordinates—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 3—2:23am:

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

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

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

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duckprintspress · 3 years

Text

How can I write quickly?

I (hi, I’m @unforth) have been asked frequently over the years how I write a lot quickly. I’m a pretty fast writer - for example, I wrote the 5600 words of my May Trope Mayhem fill from yesterday in under 2.5 hours.

First, a little of my personal history for context. I’ve always written, starting from when I was able to string letters into (very poorly spelled) words and (horrible un-grammatical) sentences. When I started trying my hand at serious, professional-level fiction writing, I joined a community called novel_in_90, which was founded by the author Elizabeth Bear. The purpose of novel_in_90 was “to be NaNoWriMo but more realistic.” Instead of 50,000 words in 31 days, it was 67,500 words in 90 days, or 750 words a day. I participated in multiple rounds of novel_in_90 starting in mid-2005, and in 2007 I completed my first (godawful) novel. When I started, even writing a couple hundred words of day took me forever, but it got easier with time.

During those same years, I also got a job that required I do professional writing on a deadline: I was a grant writer, and I only got paid when the grants won. That often meant working fast under high pressure, culminating in the weekend I wrote and edited an entire 40 pages grant that was due on Monday. I think, if I hadn’t had a solid foundation of “regular daily plodding writing,” I’d not have been able to marathon when the moment came...and it came because I had to, not because I wanted to. However, I learned a valuable lesson: I could. Subsequently, I found that, when I had the time and space and was rested enough to use my brain, I could bust out a huge amount. Like, I wrote an entire 150,000 word novel in 17 days.

My personal record is about 200,000 words in one month (it was the month I wrote that novel; I wasn’t tracking when I did that so I don’t know exactly), 25,000 words in a day, and I’ve topped out around 3,000 words an hour. I do know people who can do more...but not many.

Not everyone will be able to do this. Flat out, I MUST preface the rest of this post by saying that. Some people will find that writing fast fits their brain, and for others, it just won’t, and that’s okay. Fast doesn’t equal better, and it isn’t inherently “good” to write fast. Furthermore, even for those who can write fast, not everyone will find the same strategies helpful. I can share what works for me. Try out one item, some items, or all of these - if writing faster is something you want to be able to do, which it certainly never has to be. Use what works for you, and discard the rest.

Sit in your chair, put your fingers on your keyboard or touch screen, and write. You can’t write 1,000 words in half an hour until you write one word, however long that one word takes. I know saying this is obvious, but I’ve been asked “how can I write fast” by people who struggle to write at all...fast can’t be your priority until you’ve got a foundation of just writing. (Honestly...fast should never be your priority, but it might be helpful to you regardless, which can make it worth learning.)

Start small. Set an achievable goal, and make yourself meet that goal (daily, weekly, whatever) come hell or high water, no matter how long it takes you. Keep the goal small at first; you’re not trying to torture yourself, you’re trying to build a skill. If you set the goal high enough that you consistently fail, you’re not teaching yourself anything. And, if you find the goal IS too high...lower it. There’s no shame in working within your limits. Think of it like starting a new work out regimen: you wouldn’t try to run a 10k at a record time if you can’t run a mile slow. Treat your fingers and your brain the same way you’d treat your legs and joints. Give them time to grow, learn, and improve before you try to push yourself.

Trying to write daily is worthwhile if you want to work on your writing speed, because you’ll be forced to try to fit it in as you’re able - that might be ten minutes in your morning, or an hour in your evening, and it might vary from day to day, but making it daily means you have to fit it in somewhere.

Building skills takes time and isn’t easy. For some people, it will come easier than for others, and even when you’re fast, going from “I can write words fast” to “I can write damn good words fast” takes practice and dedication and accepting constructive criticism - speed alone will never be worth more than writing well.

Having a community can help. Ya’ll will check in on each other, cheer each other on, remind each other that missing a day or a goal isn’t the end of the world, and keep each other’s spirits up. If you don’t know other writerly folks online, I recommend Weekend Writing Marathon ( @weekendwritingmarathon ) as a good place to start (I used to be a mod there). Once you’re trying to work up to larger word counts in a day, remember that even writing fast will take minutes or hours. You can’t write 2,500 words in an hour if you don’t set an hour aside. Make sure you’re giving yourself the room and time you need to succeed.

You will probably never be able to do high, rapid word counts every day, every week, every month. The best runners in the world don’t run marathons every day. Set realistic long term goals.

Work on projects where you have a clear idea of where you’re going. I’m not saying “pantsers” can’t write fast, because of course they can, but if you want to write fast, and well, and coherently, to create a first draft that’s in pretty good shape, you’ll do better if you have a good sense of what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. That doesn’t mean you need to do all your world building up front, or have a complete outline (I never have either). All you really need is what happens next. I tend to plan projects - and write them - one full scene at a time, with only a vague idea what’s going to come after. (I’m personally a “plantser,” and the strategies in this post will likely be most effective to other plantsers.)

Visualize ahead of time what you’d like to write...but don’t get too attached to what you visualize. When I go to bed, I plan the next scene I’m going to compose, often to the least detail. I then forget all of it overnight, at least all the specifics, and I’m left with a general sense and shape of what’s to come. You’ll never be able to replicate the “perfect” dialog you pre-conceive, so give up on trying to. Instead, play through the scene and think about the emotional beats you want to hit and plot points you want to forward. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to get the words out faster than if you’re agonizing over every word or regretting the “oh-so-great” idea that you’ve since forgotten.

Practice different work styles. If writing every day doesn’t work for you, try instead saying, “this is my writing day each week,” and aim for a lot that specific day, and write little or nothing other days. Try writing at different times of day and on different days, fitting it into your schedule. If you’re beating yourself up for not writing when you “should,” it’ll be that much harder to succeed, so instead, as I said for point 2 - set a reasonable goal that fits your life and working style, fitting it around your other responsibilities, and push yourself within that framework, instead of trying to shoehorn into a style that you “think you should” use to succeed.

Track your word counts, and take notes on how much you did and what project you were working on. If you’re also experimenting with different times of day and different days, make sure you note that too. I personally use a simple Excel sheet (well, Google Sheets, now) - column one is the date, column 2 is “starting word count,” column 3 is “ending word count,” column 4 is “=column 3 - column 2”, column 5 is notes. Pay attention to when you succeed at writing faster, and when you don’t, and consider what factors might have played into your success...and then try to replicate those factors next time you’re doing a sprint. Control as many variables as you can while you’re “training.”

If you find social media distracting, trying getting a web browser extension that prevents you from connecting to websites for a set period of time.

If you find you tend to dither before starting, I find it helpful to run through everything that I might do to procrastinate (check my social media! grab a snack! make some tea! set up my playlist! check my social media again! finish making the tea! check my social media for what I swear will be the last time!), and when I’m done, it’s like, well, I’ve done all those things, I’ve got no choice left, time to write, no excuses left.

If you find you struggle with picking up a WIP, try leaving off in the middle of a sentence at the end of a session, one where you know exactly how it ends - or, leave off mid-paragraph, or when you are positive you know what happens next (and I mean literally next, as in the very next sentence.) It’s much easier to “pick back up” when your first words are super clear. (Do not do this if you think there’s any chance you’ll forget or end up in a situation where you won’t return to your WIP for months!)

If you find you struggle to maintain continuity across multiple writing sessions, try rereading what you wrote the previous day before you proceed. Resist the urge to edit it!

Avoid stopping when you get stuck, even to do research. Don’t know a fact? Add a comment to your manuscript flagging the relevant text, “LOOK THIS UP LATER.” Can’t think of a word? Put in something you can use the “find” function on easily (I personally use “XX” since there are no words that have a double x in them) and so you can come back later, search for your chosen placeholder, and fill in the blanks. Not sure how a scene ends but know the next scene? Jump ahead.

That said, if you really don’t know what happens next, you don’t do yourself any favors by pressing on. As I’ve said previously, speed alone should never be your writing object. It’s better to slow down, consider your plot, figure out where you’re going, and then write, than to just plow ahead - or at least, that’s better if you want a manuscript you’ll actually be able to use for something at a later point. If you’re truly just practicing, you can also say “screw it, who needs coherence?” and keep going. I’d personally never have finished my first novel if I’d spent a lot of time worrying about making the pieces fit together and yeah, it’s a mess, but it’s a mess I wrote instead of a mess I got stuck on and never completed.

Don’t move the finish line. If you’ve set the goal of 500 words a day, don’t beat yourself up if you get 550 because you think you think you could have done more. If you say you’ll write five days a week, don’t get mad because you DID have time the sixth day but chose to use it on something else. If you make yourself feel like shit when you succeed, what’ll happen when you fail? And when you’re comfortable and really think you’re ready, change the goal - reassess every month, say, and up your goals. While working for speed, trying upping your word count goal without changing the amount of time you allot for working.

Your need to adhere to the above suggestions will change over time. Once, I always had an outline; now I often don’t need one. Once, I wouldn’t let myself stop even to use a thesaurus; now, I find I can look up words without breaking my flow or significantly slowing myself down. This is not an “all or nothing” prospect, nor is it a “do things the same way forever once you’ve found one (1) thing that works” prospect - you’ll experiment, and find strategies that work for you, and then at some point, your needs will change, and you’ll experiment more, and find new strategies that work for you, on and on, as your skills grow.

To reiterate: writing fast should never be your objective in and of itself! Greater writing speed will come with practice and as a general side effect of improving your craft. Simply being able to write fast is useless; being able to write fast and well will enable you to get more of your ideas out there, so if that’s something you’d like to accomplish, focus on building your general skills and training yourself to be able to use those skills rapidly and in tandem with each other to produce decent writing, in a first draft, at a decent speed.

Once you try, you may find none of this works for you! That’s okay. That’s good! You tried, which means you learned something about yourself and your own writing style, and that too will help you to improve. Keep experimenting, keep learning, and find what does work for you - and accept that no two writers will ever be the same, and one of those differences will be writing speed. Some writers will never write fast, and that’s doesn’t make them any less awesome or valid. And some writers will always write fast, and that doesn’t make them inherently awesome or valid. Only with a suite of skills that suit your individual life, personality, work style, writing capabilities, goals, etc., will you succeed as a writer (for various, personalized definitions of the word “success”); speed is only one of those potential skills, and not one that’s particularly important in my opinion...yet I still get asked about it fairly often, so here we are, these are my suggestions

Go forth, and write some words! <3

#duck prints press #writing advice #original content

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Pretty Please (Reprise)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: About a year has passed since Reader and Spencer got together, and they spend the day celebrating. PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE Category: Fluff, mostly Smut 18+ (dom!Spencer, fingering, slight exhibitionism, car sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex- creampie, slight degradation) Warnings: Sex, language. As always, if there’s anything I missed, please let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you! Word Count: 1.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all so much for reading this series! It turned into something I wasn’t really expecting, and I’m very glad you all have enjoyed it, because it’s really pushed me to keep writing. Thank you!!! I hope you enjoy this short little spicy epilogue 🥰

***

She knew she was going to be in for it later, but she didn't care. Messing with him was too much fun. Not to mention when he finally got her alone and had his way with her, she would be more than satisfied.

"Y/N, stop it," Spencer said lowly in her ear.

Her hand remained on its course as she smirked, and he sighed, irritated. When she circled the tip of his dick through his pants, keeping her eyes focused on the scene in front of her, he grabbed it, lacing his fingers through hers and setting their entwined hands on her knee.

She pouted, but smiled right after, then turned her attention to the screen.

Spencer and Y/N were coming up on one whole year of being together, and though she just wanted to spend the day inside, he insisted on taking her out. They went out for breakfast, then to the park, and now they were at the movie theater. She tried to enjoy every second, and though deep down she really did—she always enjoyed being with him regardless of what they were doing—she was desperate for him. He'd been away on a case for almost a week and a half, and now that he was home she was feeling particularly... needy.

She hardly paid attention to the movie, her thoughts clouded by images and memories of their first excursion together. She replayed it over and over in her head, the wanting look in his eyes as she sank to her knees and pleaded for him to let her make up for the fact that she'd invaded his privacy. "Pretty please," she'd begged, and since then she always remembered how beautiful he looked in that moment. She never forgot it, and never would in a million years.

If there weren't any other people in the theater, she would have been bolder, maybe even so bold as to re-create that moment right there. Though, as hot as sex in public had proved to be on occasion, she'd come to learn that Spencer was not a fan of germs, and she knew ultimately that even if there weren't any people in the theater, he wouldn't have let her get on the floor to do what she wanted anyway.

They were sitting in the back row, though, and the only other people in the room was a family of four down in the middle. So Y/N wanted to take another risk.

He eventually untangled his fingers from hers once he trusted her to not make any moves, and she took that as her opening. She waited about fifteen minutes, and then reached under her skirt, inconspicuously hooking her fingers through the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs as her eyes stayed glued to the screen. She felt Spencer's hand grip her knee in warning, but she didn't care. As she reached for her cup and took a drink from her soda, her other hand dropped her panties in his lap.

That was all she was going to do, and she should have known he'd make this hard on her, but alas, when his hand slid up from her knee and rested at her inner thigh, his pinkie finger reaching over and resting just above her clit, she almost choked on her soda.

"You asked for it," he leaned over and whispered lowly in her ear, pressing a soft kiss to her neck before pulling back. His hand stayed where it was for just a few minutes before he shifted, wasting no time plunging his middle and ring fingers inside her. Y/N bit her lip to stifle a moan, while also clutching the armrests of the seat for dear life as his fingers pumped in and out slowly.

As the movie played in front of them, Spencer brought her to the edge three times, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean as she fought the urge to beg him to let her cum, right before going back in each time. It was torture, but she did, in fact, sign up for it.

When it was obvious that the movie was ending, he picked up his pace and curled his fingers in just the right way, and she almost yelped. He leaned into her one last time, and said, "You're going to cum on my fingers, and then you're going to clean them, got it? Be fast."

That was all she needed to finish, and she came as quietly as she could, her legs clenching around his hand and her eyes squeezing shut as she tried not to call out. When he felt her legs loosen around him, he slid his fingers up through her pussy and circled her clit a few times, making her jolt forward, before pulling away and quietly bringing his fingers to her mouth. She happily took them, sucking them as quickly and quietly as she could. She let out a soft groan as he pulled them out, but then stifled a louder one as he ran his fingers through her again, gathering more of her arousal. She cleaned them off once more before the credits started to roll, and then he stood up, bringing her with him.

As the family ahead of them walked up the aisles and out of the door, Spencer shoved her panties in his pocket and ushered themselves out behind them.

He didn't say a word the whole walk to the car. And even when they started driving, he said nothing.

"Hey," Y/N started nervously as he pulled out of the parking lot. "I... I hope I didn't make you do something you were uncomfortable with. I was onl— wait, where are we going? I thought you said after the movie we'd go home?"

Spencer gave a knowing smile as he drove down an empty alley. "That was before you decided to act like a needy little whore in public. I was going to wait until we got home and be gentle with you, but now I have some other ideas."

She tried to hide a grin, already growing excited and wondering what he was going to do to her.

He parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt before scooting the seat all the way back and moving to undo his belt. "You're going to ride me until I finish, and maybe if you're lucky you'll get to cum. Get over here." His voice was desperate, and Y/N could tell that his primary goal was to get off, it didn't matter if she did as well or not. But they'd been in that position before, and she knew that even if she didn't orgasm now, when they got home he would give her whatever she wanted. He always did.

Spencer removed his dick from his pants as she climbed over him, her skirt fanning out over them. Without warning he gripped her hips and brought her down on top of him, and she gasped as his hips lifted to meet hers. He did this a few more times before stilling and willing her to move on her own accord. She set a steady pace bouncing on him as her hands gripped his shoulders. His hands, in turn, slipped under her skirt and gripped her ass, his fingernails digging in as harshly as they could. It spurred her to move faster, and he leaned his head back with a groan. "Shit, pretty girl, just like that..."

He lifted his hips then, just a little so he could hit inside her deeper as she came down, and she cried out. She could feel him getting closer, and she knew just what would do the trick. "Fuck, baby, cum inside me, please! Give it to me," she breathed, high-pitched and close to the edge herself.

Sure enough, his cock pulsated inside her and in no time he was filling her up, groaning out her name as it happened. She kept going, though, chasing her own release that was just on the surface, almost about to break through the water. But Spencer pulled her off of him and she whined, feeling his cum start to leak out a little.

"Please, Spencer, I was so close... Please..."

As she hovered over him, her legs barely holding herself up, he gripped her chin in his right hand and looked her in the eye. "I don't know... You were being a pretty bad girl at the theater."

"I know, and I'm so, so sorry..."

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before biting it, pausing for a moment and then cocking his head and using his free hand to run up her inner thigh. "Beg for it."

"Spencer, please," she whined, leaning into his touch. "I'm sorry, please, just let me cum, I promise I'll be good."

It apparently wasn't to his satisfaction, because he continued tracing patterns along her inner thigh as his cum dripped down it. His eyes searched hers, silently telling her what she needed to say to get what she wanted.

She almost smiled as she said it, dropping her voice to a seductive plea. "Pretty please..."

He smirked, sliding his fingers inside her. "That's my girl."

He fucked his cum back into her with his fingers, curling them and feeling her tighten around him as she got closer. "Fuck, thank you, thank you, ohh..."she trailed off, shutting her eyes and going blind with pleasure. Soon enough she was crying out as she peaked, her fingernails no doubt leaving marks in Spencer's shoulders, even through the fabric of his shirt.

When she caught her breath and loosened her grip on him, he removed his fingers from her and brought them to his mouth, doing his best to get rid of most of the mess. But then, as if he'd had an epiphany, Y/N watched as he pulled his panties from his pocket and used them to clean up between her legs and what little had made its way onto his pants and the seat of the car beneath them.

"You know I put napkins in the glovebox, right?" she laughed as she got off his lap and sat down in her own seat. She grabbed one of them and opened it to bunch her panties in, finally setting it in her lap as Spencer readjusted himself.

"Yeah, but that was more fun anyway," he replied matter-of-factly, and it made her smile.

"Hey, before we go home can we stop for a burger? Car sex makes me crave fast food."

As he started the car and turned on the radio, the familiar tune of Love Song by Tesla picking up where it left off on the mix CD she'd made him for their anniversary, he leaned over to kiss her cheek sweetly. "Anything for you, pretty girl."

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds smut

698 notes · View notes

sunatooru · 3 years

Note

Uh idk if this is weird but like would it be okay to request a head canon where like the reader has a vagina & penis it can be gn or female s/o but like they’ve been very nervous about having sex bc they think their partner will think their genitals are weird (maybe they had a bad experience with an ex). And so they are dating one of the boys and he wonders why you keep swerving around sex so u finally show him why thinking he’s gonna break up with you and be creeped out but he’s like totally,... turned on??? Like he sucks you off while fingering you or like jacking u off while he’s fucking you and thinks it’s so hot as the cums is like dribbling out of your dick at the same time. Mans is in LOVE 😍. If you don’t feel comfortable writing this THATS TOTALLY FINE I was jus trying to see if any of my fav writers would be into it. If you do do it can you do it with kuroo, atsumu, bokuto, and you can pick the fourth!! I’m so sorry this is so specific

Heyyy here is your long awaited request (I’m sorry I’m late). this idea is very hot and I know the boys would get crazy over this. Also I appreciate being one of your favs, thank you xx

warnings: minors dni, 18+ smut content, may be timeskip spoilers, intersex reader (futanari/ futa), intercouse, fingering, blowjob, mentions kitten and daddy and bunny, praise kink?, creampie and just the boys indulging into you

Kuroo

* He’s so lovely to you

* Always holding your hand, kissing your forehead and looking at you lovingly

* And although sex wasn’t necessary for him, he would always wonder why you never got further than making out and leaving hickeys

* Your hands always pushing against his chest when he would carefully slip a finger under your waistband

* And today was no different

* When you break away from his kiss, he worries when you don’t meet his gaze

* “Baby, what’s wrong? Am I doing something wrong?” He questions and you’re quick to shake your head no

* He can see your hesitancy, you’re chewing your lips and you finally tell him. You watch his eyes widen when you tell him you have both sex genitals, and that your previous partner mocked you for it

* He feels a lot in that moment. He’s both angry at the audacity of your previous partner but also curious as to how you look and mostly how you’ll feel

* “Baby, screw them. I don’t care about that. I just want to make you feel good.” And you let him

* He lays you down on the bed and kisses down your neck, your shirt already off and he drags his lips across your chest, grin plastered when you whine as he toys with your nipple

* “So beautiful” he whispers, tongue point out when he slowly pulls your trousers down

* He feels his cock twitch at the slight bulge forming in your underwear

* His own dent forming as he sits between your thighs in only his shorts

* He groan when he takes off your underwear, hips unconsciously rutting forward as he sees your pussy glistening and your pretty cock tip swollen

* “You’re so fuck hot. Look at what you’ve done.” He locks his eyes with yours and watches you trail down to see him free his hard cock out, giving it a few pumps

* He drags his finger against your folds, your own cock twitching at his touch and it’s enough for him to tease his tip at your entrance

* He clenches his jaw when he slides in, eyes shut as he feels your pussy swallow his hard cock

* “Fuck baby just like that.” He groans when you moan our his name, walls tightening when he slides his whole length in

* He places both hands on your hip, holding them down as he begins to rock against you

* “Tetsu- tets- so goo-“ he grins at your inability to form your words, thrust getting faster when you arch your back

* And then he sees your cock stand tall, he doesn’t even think as he wraps his large hand against it

* You yell at his grip, body thrashing in the sheet as he begins jerking you off

* The double stimulation has you stuttering

* And his eyes are just watching how your pussy pulls him in and your cock growing redder with every pump

* “Fuck you’re so hot...so sexy.”

* “Pleas- I.. I’m so close.” And so he moves his hand faster, you tending body sigh you’re about to cum

* And then he sees they way your cum sprays onto your chest, the liquid drops decorating your skin, he feels his balls tighten

* “Shit Kitten!” He moans as he slips out and cums between your folds

* Your now softening cock reaching to touch some of his load and he just knows he’s keeping you forever

Atsumu

* He’s instigated sex a couple of times

* He never got mad when you brush it away though, he really likes you and he wasn’t going to let it come in the way

* And then one day while you’re making out, his hands start to travel down your stomach, almost making it to your crotch if you didn’t stop him

* And now he’s concerned but doesn’t say anything until you tell him the issue

* To say he’s shocked is an understatement

* He’s trying to visualise how you look down their, a cock and a pussy, fuck he instantly got hard

* “That’s not gonna stop me, you know. That’s actually got me fully hard, sweetheart. Ya gonna let daddy give you a good time?” He’s not sure if the image of your cunt and cock made him slip out the ‘daddy’

* “Yes please, daddy.” He groans so loudly when you shyly reply, he drops his face back to yours and kisses you hungrily

* He spreads your thighs apart and starts grinding against you, both of you still dressed

* Your moans has him consumed and he quickly sheds off his shirt, lowering his pants and stripping you that you’re only in your underwear

* A clear outline of the effect he has on you showing

* “Shit babe, who said you could be so fucking hot” he hoots as he kisses down your stomach, slowly lowering your underwear and the small slap of your cock hitting his face has him jumping your thigh

* He licks his lips hungrily, ripping your underwear away and slipping your cock into his mouth

* Your hands immediately goes to his head, fingers gripping his hair as his wet tongue dances around your tip

* “Mmm” he groans and the vibration has you thrusting your hips upwards, dick deep into his throat as he gags

* You try to pull away but he hold you into position, one hand trailing to his own fat cock, stroking it as he makes eye contact with you

* He bobs his head, your whines and whimper making him speed up and when he finally pulls away, he watches as his spit covers your cock, quickly pushing his cock into your pussy, eyes rolled back at the sensation of your tight wet walls hug him

* “So tight, fuck you gonna take my cock like a good bunny?” He demands as he begins moving back and forth

* He hunches over you, gives you sloppy kisses and feels yo it hand travel between where you’re connected

* He bellows a moan as he watches your pump your cock fast, he matches up it pace, his balls slapping against your ass as you use jerk yourself off

* When he feels you tighten against him, he thrust sharply and bellows a groan, eyes stuck on your hand as you arch your back and shoot out a little bit of cum and cums inside you

* “That’s a pretty fucking sight..” he smirks as his cum oozes out

Bokuto

* You actually enclosed to him about not being comfortable with sex yet, not really explaining why but he respected it

* Until one night you’re both rubbing your hands against each other and he accidentally places his hand over your crotch and you tense

* “Huh ? Baby baby what’s wrong? I - I’m so sorry.” Starts apologising over and over until you calm him down

* And then you tell him about having both a dick and vagina, also telling him that you had a bad experience with your ex because of it

* He just looks so confused, why would your ex have an issue at being able to pleasure you in two different ways?

* “Baby, if you let me I’ll replace that memory with something amazing.” He gives you a small smile and you agree

* His eyes grow when he sees your semi hard cock and how pretty your pussy looks

* He kisses you hard, biting your lip as he pulls away

* He grins and then stuffs one of his fingers into his mouth, making sure to coat it with enough saliva before slowly pushing it inside your cunt

* “Aghh..” you roll your hips and he smirks and looks at you determinedly

* He pumps his finger inside you, surprising you when his tongue flicks at your folds

* He synchronises his thrusts and licks, getting faster and faster until he feels you’re wet enough for another finger

* The stretch of him adding another thick finger makes you mewl, you clasp around him, thighs pushing together as his face gets struck between

* But he doesn’t mind, in fact he loves it

* “Taste so good, pretty” he tells you and then he uses his over hand and strokes your cock from the base upwards

* He releases a groan when he feels you pulse both on your cock and pussy

* And then he gets to business

* His fingers continue to fuck your hole, the sounds of squelching motivating him as you cry while he fists your cock harshly

* “You like this baby? Like how I’m fucking you together? Use your words, go on.” He bites his lips when you cry out

* “S-so good don’t stop please Kou...” your nails scratching at his hand when he curls his fingers inside of you

* He feels pride fill him, knowing that no one has made you feel this good, knowing that he’ll continue to make you feel good

* He thinks you look so sexy, sprawled out as you suck his finger into your cunt and wither as your cock is in his tight grasp

* He feels himself straining against his joggers, but he doesn’t care, his goal is to make you scream

* He pulls away from your cunt to spit on your cock, letting it act as lube and gets back to eating your out like his life depended on it

* It’s too much for you. You good, you scream as you feel your stomach tighten and you push his face further into your pussy as you cream around his tongue

* Your chest rising rapidly at the orgasm, you look at his smirking face that’s wet with your juice

* “That was so fucking hot.” He states, lifting his body up and your eyes fixate on his joggers

* A small wet patch growing against his cock

237 notes · View notes

uswntxfootball · 3 years

Text

wonderland (kristie mewis x uswnt!reader)

all the memories and suppressed feelings flood back when she gets called up to the national team again.

word count: 2624 ish

rated D for dumb idiots. also F for flustered reader. and A for a little angsty.

——

it was tuesday morning when you had a near death experience.

jordan thinks that you’re being overdramatic but you don’t listen to her anyways.

on your off day of training the team decided to go out to have a nice breakfast together at a cafe.

there was the usual banter, disgusting couple moments (you constantly made gagging noises at them), and general stupidity.

after a bit the conversation dulled a little, but spiked again when jordan said:

“hey doesn’t the uswnt roster drop today?”

oh crap you forgot about that.

“oh crap yes it does.”

you were pretty sure you were going to make it again.

you’ve been very constant with your playing, scoring goals nationally and at the wsl alike.

still you couldn’t help the nerves that crept their way up your skin, and you handed your phone to jordan to have her read the list .

“read the list of midfielders aloud for me would you?”

the forward accepted it without hesitation, this being a usual exchange between the two of you.

jordan scanned the page a few times before smiling:

“i am proud to present the midfielders for the 2020 netherlands camp-“

“oh stop it just get on with it.”

“well i was before you rudely interrupted me-“

“alright whatever well keep going then.”

“julie ertz.”

“ditto.”

“lindsey horan.”

“also a given.”

“rose lavelle.”

“obviously.”

“catarina macario.”

“i’m not surprised.”

“sam mewis.”

“uh huh”

“and yours truly, y/n y/ln.”

the table cheered a little and you blushed, taking a bite of your avocado toast to hide your smile.

“oh and kristie mewis.”

and then you inhaled sharply, choking on your bite of food.

“who?” you managed to get out through a fit of coughing.

your inquiry was met with an array of exclamations.

“do you not know who kristie mewis is?”

“sam mewis’s sister?”

“won the challenge cup with dash?”

“dated rachel daly?”

“how do you not know who she is?!”

“you’re american for god’s sake!”

you ignored them all and instead said to jordan:

“can you hand me the water?”

jordan furrowed her eyebrows and handed you a glass of water as you coughed away.

you shot her a thankful glance before it was broken again by your nonstop coughing.

daan turned and slapped you a few times on the back which helped slightly.

for the rest of the breakfast jordan noticed you were much quieter, resorting to staring off into space instead of filling the silences with bad jokes.

after breakfast she caught up with you.

“alright spill.”

you shot her a look of confusion.

“spill about what?”

“you and kristie.”

“there’s nothing to spill.”

“that’s a lie and you know that.”

“i- hey would you look at the time i gotta go!”

you glanced at your wrist quickly before running off.

jordan shook her head before yelling out:

“you don’t even have a watch on!”

steph watched the two of you and shook her head.

you and kristie were bickering about something across the field, too caught up in your own world to pay attention to the fact that training had ended.

steph and kristie were both boston college grads, and the two had been close friends before signing together.

kristie had taking a particular liking to you, and within the first week of training you found yourself included in everything the they did.

the three of you played for the boston breakers, sharing an apartment, a car, and consequently all your personal spaces as well.

and so it was only fitting that the three of you bickered.

a lot.

you and kristie more than anyone.

“that is the worst show in existence!”

“no it is not the cinematography is fantastic it’s-“

“no the acting is so bad!”

“no it’s not i-“

“you just have bad show choices.”

you gasped in offense.

“take it back.”

kristie grinned and stuck her tongue out at you.

“never.”

“well then you better run.”

kristie’s eyes widened when you lunged at her.

she took off but you, being faster tackled her to the ground.

your fingers dug into her sides and through a fit of laughter she relented.

“okay okay! i take it back! you have good taste in shows!”

you grinned triumphantly and stopped, your hands on both sides of kristie’s head as you looked down at her.

kristie’s cheeks were flushed and her chest heaved slightly as she looked up at you.

you were briefly aware of the pounding in your ears and butterflies in your stomach.

your eyes locked onto hers and unbeknownst to you you were leaning in but kristie was very, very aware of it, and just as she was about to lean in as well, steph’s yell broke the two of you out of your trance.

“hey training is over idiots!”

you shoot up so fast that your vision goes a little bit black.

you stumble a little bit before finding your balance.

“shut up mccaffrey you almost gave me a heart attack.”

you look down to see kristie still on the ground before you stick a hand out to help her up.

“what were the two of you even fighting about?”

you gave kristie a pointed look before saying:

“this idiot said my show choice was bad.”

steph thought about it for a minute.

“well i mean she isn’t wrong.”

kristie lets out an exclamation after hearing that.

“see?! i told you!”

“hey! you took it back!”

“doesn’t mean it isn’t true!”

“i’m being bullied.”

“oh shut up y/n.”

adjusting your mask and sunglasses, you made your way out of the plane with a few of your teammates.

you had just landed in the netherlands, and coming from england you had a shorter flight compared to most of the team, who would be landing in an hour or so.

you were brimming with excitement at meeting up with your us teammates, as you hadn’t seen them since the beginning of the pandemic.

even then you didn’t get to see them often as you played in the wsl.

you had signed with arsenal in 2017, after the league folded and the boston breakers disbanded, as you were done with the american soccer system.

england had welcomed you with open arms, and you soon made a home there, flying back every so often for national team camps and games.

so when the pandemic hit and a handful of your teammates signed for international clubs, you were ecstatic.

even if they signed for opposing teams.

at least none of them signed for chelsea.

christen gave you a little tap when she saw your suitcases, and you gave her a thankful look before going to grab them.

when everyone was settled, you made your way to the bus and set off on your way to the hotel.

“sam how excited are you that kristie is coming?”

your head snapped up at the mention of the midfielder’s name, an action sam noticed but didn’t comment on.

“i’m so happy! she’s happy too on being called back and can’t wait to see her old teammates again!”

your cheeks flushed a little when sam’s eyes met yours at the end of her statement, and you suddenly found the ground very interesting.

it was a little later when you arrived at the hotel and rose kicked your foot that you looked up.

making your way into the hotel was an interesting experience.

on one hand you were beyond excited that you were back with the national team, yet on the other hand the prospect of seeing kristie made you want to throw up a little bit.

it’s not that you didn’t want to see her.

you were nervous because you liked? like? her.

of course this you realized way after you had left the us.

or rather, just as you were about to leave.

you stood, heart racing as you stood in front of kristie’s door.

your hand hovered above it for a little bit as you tried to swallow and breathe normally.

you had already told steph and the rest of your friends but why was it so much harder to tell kristie?

were you afraid of what she was going to say?

that you were going to leave the country, leave the nwsl, and leave her?

you take a deep breath to calm down and you gave it a little knock.

the door flies open in less than a second.

“y/n! what are you doing here?”

kristie’s cheery demeanor rattled you a little bit.

upon seeing your face she frowned.

“what’s wrong?”

“i-“

your mouth was so dry and it trembled a little.

you could feel your heartbeat in your ears, tears threatening to spill.

kristie’s looking at you with a face full of worry now, and you couldn’t get the words out.

“i-“

you close your mouth again and take a second to look at her.

noting the ways her eyes sparkled and the way her hair was falling out from her bun in little curls over her shoulders.

and then it comes out in a hushed whisper when you least expect it.

“i’m moving to england.”

kristie looks at you too stunned to speak.

she whispers:

“when are you leaving?”

you look down at the ground.

“tomorrow.”

you keep your eyes trained on the ground, too scared to look up at her, knowing that when you look at her the tears you’ve fought so hard to hold back are going to spill.

the silence that falls between you is too heavy. too thick. too constricting.

you find yourself lunging forward towards the midfielder, wrapping her in a hug as the tears spill.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.”

kristie doesn’t say anything.

she just hugs you harder.

you break away when you have to, but as soon as you turn kristie grabs your wrist.

you turn to ask her what’s wrong but her lips are on yours in an instant.

before you can even process what happened she pulls back.

“you’re going to kill it in england.”

and then she walks into the apartment and shuts the door.

ironically you walk into a door when you see her.

to be fair it wasn’t your fault.

it was hers.

well maybe it was yours.

your head had been all over the place in the past few days, ever since the prospect of seeing her was brought up.

when you had left five years ago, you couldn’t help but replay that kiss over and over in your head.

you couldn’t believe all the signs you had missed.

so yeah.

you were nervous.

and so with music blasting in your headphones, you were prepping for a run, and subsequently not paying any attention to where you were walking and she opens the door right in your face.

you stumble a little bit backwards, before falling down.

you haven’t even looked up, instead sitting on the ground rubbing your forehead and cursing.

it’s when a pair of sneakers appears in front of you that you look up.

and you actually choke on air.

before you stood the woman you had been thinking about, sporting an amused smile and quirked eyebrow.

she says something you don’t hear and it’s only when she leans down and takes your headphones off that you notice them.

your cheeks flush and you mutter an embarrassed “oops” which elicited a chuckle from the midfielder in front of you.

she extends her hand out to you and you take it, sparks shooting up your arm at the contact.

she pulls you into a hug and the two of you quickly fall into conversation.

here up close, you can spot all the changes and similarities of the girl you left 5 years ago.

the five years had been great to her, she was now even more breathtaking than before, no longer the awkward kid but a gorgeous woman.

she almost looks like a completely different person.

almost.

but you notice the same ways her eyes sparkle when she talks, the way the corners of her mouth tug up slowly when she smiles, and the way she tucks loose strands of hair behind her ear and you know this is the same girl you were so smitten with 5 years ago.

“you done checking me out now?”

your gaze snaps back up to her face and blush, a little surprised by her statement.

kristie gives you a teasing smile before saying:

“come on i’m just joking.”

she even has the audacity to wink at you.

and this behavior continues.

for the whole training camp she flirts with you.

you’re a little taken aback by the confidence in the girl.

with the constant winking and flirting and fleeting touches you’re pretty sure she’s trying to kill you.

“y/n. y/n!”

sonnett’s voice snaps your gaze back onto her face.

“sorry what?”

“you were so far into la la land i almost had to get ryan gosling to come get you.”

you shoot her an annoyed look.

“oh shut up no.”

your eyes drift back to the other side of the field, to where kristie was.

sonnett rests her chin on your shoulder and says:

“so who are we checking out today?”

you turn to her and scowl.

“no one.”

“you’re no fun.”

“no.”

“come on you love me.”

“no.”

and of course she scores.

of course.

no matter how hyped the game was.

or how difficult the netherlands defense was.

of course she scores.

she had been on for less than two minutes when she did so too.

you’re so excited you almost trip over your own feet.

she runs to you and you catch her as she jumps, and soon the rest of the team comes to envelop the two of you in a hug.

“i’m so fucking proud of you,” you whisper, and when everyone has relaxed a little, she kisses you.

it’s firmer and more insistent than the one from five years ago.

it’s almost like she knows what she wants and what you want.

you pull away after a few seconds, but only because you have a game to win still.

“come on kris let’s kick some ass.”

you let go of her and the two of you make your way back to your positions.

a few of your arsenal teammate shoot you teasing glances, and you blush when you meet them.

and when the whistle blows thirty minutes later, they make sure to tease you about it after the game.

you see kristie walking towards you and you grin, but before she gets there sam steps in front of you.

you look up at her, and when she doesn’t speak you fill the silence.

“i promise not to hurt her.”

sam quirks an eyebrow and leans in to whisper:

“you better not. or i will tear off your arm and beat you with i-“

“sam!”

kristie gives her sister a little slap in the arm before pulling you away with her.

“hey.”

“um h-hey,” you stammer, rubbing your neck nervously.

“you’re so cute.”

you blush a bit, your heart racing.

kristie catches your hand when it comes down and intertwines her fingers with yours.

“go on a date with me?”

you blush even harder and nod enthusiastically, not trusting your voice at this point.

she gives you a look before leaning in and connecting her lips with yours.

“hey please don’t bang my sister on the field!”

#kristie mewis #kristie mewis x reader #kristie mewis imagine #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines

432 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

illicit affairs

pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader

warnings: smut (18+), cheating, age gap

a/n: i love perfumes which smell of daisies so i made the reader use something like that. i do imagine her going for a very much female appearance and aura despite her personality and i can see lee fancying that sort of fragile femininity look paired with her independency. this song is based of illicit affairs from taylor swift but i was also listening to all too well at some points so i think some of that passed onto the writing. hope you enjoy xx

> DRESS

Leave the perfume on the self that you picked up just for him so you leave no trace behind like you don’t even exist. Take the words for what they are a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times ... And you wanna scream don’t call me “kid”, don’t call me “baby”, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself a million little times ...

The snow settled onto the ground, a view she could see from her white window. Sprawled against her window pane, the blue soft fabric of her dress cascaded down her body as she watched the snow fall and become one with the mass of white covering the once green grass of her home. Her feet dangled in anticipation, hair cascading into hairdresser set curls, held away from her face with a pearl barrette. Her fingers dangled across her collarbones, feeling the cold matching pearls which unlike her barrette clip, had been offered to her by Lee on thanksgiving. “A pretty girl like you deserves her own pearls” his voice echoed in her mind whenever her feeling felt the smooth irregular circle shapes of the pearls laying against her collarbones. There was nothing more than she wanted than to wear those pearls to the police winter ball, to show up wearing something he had bought for her with what money he gathered from his fickle Captain position, but she couldn’t. Everyone knew what she had, what jewellery she had, it was all valued at the insurance centre downtown and the pearl necklace definitely wasn’t. Her own pearls rested inside her ivory jewellery box along with the ribbon she was wearing around her waist when she first kissed him, and the comb that held her hair in place whenever she met him during windy nights.

Her grandmother had left before her, leaving with the grocery shop owner as her date for the ball but she had stayed behind. She had told her she’d rather go alone, blaming her loneliness on the fact all the boys her age were either engaged thus going with their wives and the single ones not wanting to do with her. Of course that was further from the truth and as she watched the snow fall, she imagined Lee’s cruiser driving through the snow, stopping in front of her home and knocking on her door to take her. But those were nothing but impossible scenarios created from the deepest part of her psyche. Looking over her shoulder, the clock on her bedside table shone 9PM into bold red letters. She should get going before her grandmother got worried. Her eyes lingered across her beauty parlour to the silver platter with her perfume, the one she’d picked just for him after hearing how much he loved the smell of daisies. She had to leave it, she couldn’t put any perfume on, she couldn’t take her pearls, she doesn’t exist. At least, she as Lee’s lover does not exist for all that everyone could know and nothing hurt more than the sound of her pearls returning to her ivory box. It was were they belonged, away from everyone, hidden, a mysterious sin secret.

With her white fur wrapped around her arms, she entered her glossy yet dull red car, pulling the hood up despite the weather. She wanted to feel the cold, she wanted that numbness to hide what she had been feeling for the last months. It was all so exhilarating when it began; the summer walks, laying in the middle of the forest in an old towel as he feed her ripe strawberries, escaping from her grandmother’s house at night and meeting him up under the apple tree in light dresses. However, at time wind down, she started to crave the rest of a relationship, the holding of hands. Instead what she got was clandestine meetings in parking lots, behind the bars or in the middle of the forest when no one could see them. She constantly told herself it was going to eventually be her turn, he was gonna leave Jane for her. Yet, she seemed to constantly fall on the same error every mistress before her did, the mistake of forgetting her place. Stopping in front of the old town hall where the ball was being held, she could see the soft lights, hear the laughter and it made her sick. She didn’t want to go in, she didn’t want to see those happy couples but she had too. She had to put up a show, be the little pedestal trouble starter woman she was expected to be and so she would.

Stepping into the hall, her eyes immediately found Lee in the corner speaking with the Sheriff, arm draped over Jane’s shoulder while the other hand held a clear cup probably with his favourite drink. Her heart sunk to the same place it always did as she got lost in the dance floor. She knew everyone in this town hall, from the first boy she ever kissed Jonah and his third wife Elizabeth to Billy whom had been prom king with her. There was nothing new anymore and what once felt new and true was now anchoring her inside a fishbowl of images of her own mistakes and unfulfilled life needs.

- Hey, Y/N. - Billy called out for her attention. She held onto the fur wrapped around her for comfort as she prepared her facade of a happy girl at a happy party. - Your grandma told me you ain’t gotta a partner for tonight. Could’ve told me, I would’ve taken you.

- It’s ok, ain’t like I need a man. - she replied, almost angrily although he deserved no anger from her. - What’s the stage for? We’re getting a band tonight?

- No, the new sheriff candidates announcing themselves tonight. Prepare for the blood bath.

- Sounds interesting. - she spoke out, her voice getting mumbled out as the mic’s sound hurt her and everyone else’s ear. The police chief stood there in his best attire, holding a small piece of papers, his fat thumbs hitting the mic to gather everyone’s attention. He already had their attention merely by wearing a cowboy’s hat with a formal suit.

- Now folks, we all now how much we gonna miss our good old Sheriff but it’s time to elect a new one. - his southern accent was pronounced, too pronounced, cartoonish even. Y/N remembered laughing as a child when she first heard him speak only to immediately shut up when her grandmother looked her way with a look which left room for no questions. She herself had barely developed an accent, her grandmother still very keen on instilling in her the education she herself had gotten. However, the longer she spent with Lee, the more it would sometimes slip; one or two words, nothing major. - Of course, Leroy is running again.

- I don’t know why he tries. - Y/N whispered to Billy, concealed laughing smile behind her hand.

- You gotta admit it’s a good thing to imagine. Damned Leroy and his prostitutes running the town? We’d be forgotten by God.

- We’re already forgotten by God. We were banished from the garden of Eden, don’t you remember? - she teased, always enjoying to toy around with the religion Knockemstiff was so hang up on. - We’re probably direct descendants.

- You ought to keep that mouth shut if you don’t wanna get in trouble. - he warned yet it went through deaf ears. Y/N liked stirring it, specially when it came to things which were so analytically flawed.

The regular list of candidates continued to go from officers to common folk who all believed they could make the town better. At least that was all they said they wanted to get some votes but at the end of the day, they just wanted to control the town with an iron fist. Do what they wanted without anyone question it. She couldn’t blame it, humans are hardwired to go crazy for power and let it consume them so she just let it pass. She knew all the candidates, they were always the same. Leroy, Matthew, Edwards ... all the common ones, she even wondered why they kept announcing it. Those three competing for the sheriff position was as certain as the sun coming up each morning.

- The last candidate is our cap’tain Bodecker. - her head snapped to the stage as every sound seemed to dim until she was surrounded by pure silence. All she could hear was the buzz from her ears as she watched him climb up the stairs to the stage, shaking the chief’s hands.

Everything seemed to be stuck in slow motion yet her mind was running faster than a shot bullet. The clapping was slow, everything was silent yet she could see their hands slowly clap and their lips moving in whispers. Her eyes roamed the crowd finding Jane right in front of the stage, looking up at him with adoration at the possible place she could possible hold; the sheriff’s wife. The slow motion ended with a loud crash and suddenly everything seemed just too fast. She ignored Billy’s pleas for her attention and moved straight to the small plastic tables covered in burgundy towels to make it look fancier where all the drinks and food were being held. One of her only friends from high school Mary was the one in charge, happily serving food and drinks to anyone who asked.

- Hi Y/N. - she always looked like the perfect housewife and that was always what she wanted to be. Beautiful, bountiful blonde hair with a few flowers matching her pink dress. Despite it all, she was always nice to her even with their different life goals.

- Hey Mary. How’s Paul? I heard from rumours you two had quite a nice honeymoon. St.Louis, right?

- Yes. He booked us a nice honeymoon suite, it had flowers and those heart shaped beds and chocolates. It was real nice, I’m hoping to be pregnant soon. What about you? Your grandmother said you came alone. You could’ve told me, my brother would’ve taken you.

- That’s alright, Mary. I don’t intend to stay for long ... Uhm, can I have a drink?

- Of course. Sidecar, as per usual?

- I think I’ll just have a double cognac, please. Or maybe some gin ... whatever can make me dizzy the fastest.

- Everything, okay?

- Just need to forget some stuff, it’ll be okay. - she forced a smile. At least half that phrase was true. Mary served her up with her best gin and she returned to the dance floor, trying to blend with the rest of the attendees, however her baby blue dress was much too different from anything else in town.

Y/N thought she’d be best outside where no one could see her and so she left, avoiding Billy who kept asking for her. She leaned against the old wood of the town hall, mascara running down her cheeks, and gin glass on the other one. She looked like the perfect warning tale of why you should not mess her married men. She knew better, she knew so much better but she still did it, like the idiotic little fool she seemed to be. Y/N sighed, the air condensing in the air as she drank from the glass.

- Pull yourself together, Y/N. - she looked to see side, her grandmother standing outside with the look she used to give her when Y/N embarrassed her as a little girl. - What did you expect?

- I’m just not having a good day, nana.

- You’re hanging around with Captain Bodecker that’s what you’re doing.

- What?

- Don’t play innocent with me, Y/N. You’re just like your mother and I’ve raised your mother so I’d know. I saw you leave in his car last week. Do you want to defend yourself?

- Is it even worth it? - she took a sip out of her drink. - What do you want me to say?

- I want you to pull yourself together and go inside. You better have this finished off before those elections start. I will not have my granddaughter be a home wrecker.

Y/N ignored it. There was nothing her grandmother could say that hurt more than what she was already feeling. She watched the snow fall from the cover of the banner covering the town hall, cold and icy yet somehow warmer than her. The drink didn’t last forever and although it was much stronger than what she was used to, she didn’t feel the slightest bit dizzy. It was if the universe was punishing her for her choices. She shook her head, leaving the glass onto one of the windows. She’d be better off at home and she’d already made her appearance. If someone asked where she was, she could’ve blamed it on their drunkness. Opening her little clutch, she started fishing for her keys through a sea of change, makeup and receipts.

- You better not be thinking of driving after you just drank. - she turned her head to see Lee with his hands on his waist, playfully smiling at her. His smile faded as he noticed the streaks of mascara from her eyes to her jaw. - Did that shithead Billy say something?

- No ... Lee, I wanna go home okay. - she sighed. - Can you just pretend you didn’t see me drink?

- I was hoping we could spend the night together. Rent a hotel room outside town. A real nice place, with a pool and some room service. My treat of course.

- I ... We can’t, Lee. Your wife is inside as she’s gonna notice you’re not there and you’re not home.

- She’s going home early. Jane’s been taking a few sleeping pills. She’s down for the night, won’t even notice. - he took a few steps closer to her, knowing everyone was too drunk to even remember. - I was waiting for you to come greet me, congratulate me. I can’t believe my girl wanted to leave before showing me how pretty she looked.

- You didn’t tell me you were running for Sheriff. - he cupped her face, thumb caressing her cheek. - You said it was a silly position.

- Yeah but ... it’s a Sheriff. I could become Mayor, ya know. The old sheriff thinks I’d be good for it. - he scratched the back of his neck, something he always did whenever he was nervous or was confronted by something he did not expect. Y/N had learned to read him and knew him better than her own favourite books. - C’mon, kid. It’s a night worth celebrating, don’t you think?

- Don’t call me kid. - she shot her head his way, his word hitting a particular hurt spot which she didn’t realise she had.

- Hey, I’m not trying to mock ya. - he rose his hands. - What’s wrong, huh baby? Hm? Tell me sugar, I hate it when you’re upset. Besides, if it was that Billy kid I’ve been wanting to give him a good beating.

- Don’t call me baby, either. - she sighed, throwing her purse inside the car, before turning to him. - Billy didn’t do anything I’m just ... tired.

- I’ll drive you home, then.

- I don’t wanna go home either. - she pushed her hair from her forehead, looking at the ground. The snow engulfed her feet and her shoes, yet it might as well have engulfed her entire being. Lee noticed her lip trembling and how her free hand was trying to stop tears from falling down. He looked behind him, the town hall door shut, before taking his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders, and opening the car door for her.

Y/N daren’t look him in the eye, instead sitting in the passenger seat as he pushed the hood of her car up. After all, most people did not enjoy driving in the snow with the hood up. She didn’t know where he was taking her and for all it mattered she didn’t want to know. If he was driving her to her killing location, it sounded much better than having to work out through the bubbling feelings in her tummy. Y/N didn’t even noticed how much she was crying until the tears started streaming so fast they were falling onto the palms of her hands like diamond daggers. She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the road ahead through the blurry orbs of her own eyes, trying to find some warmth through him. The drive seemed endless and her mind rushed in an even more endless way as she considered all her choices til now. She found it unbearable how not guilty she didn’t feel about it. She could still remember the feeling of the cold water against her body and his lips against hers, being tangled in his bed sheets while he drank a beer, his grunts as he thrusted into her inside his patrol car. She remembered every detail either it being lust or romantic but most importantly she remembered how he looked at her. It was almost as through rose coloured glasses, most of the times agreeing with her pessimist view of the town she was in. Lee looked down on her, watching her perfect hair break through the gelled curls she had set down. He never liked the polished look anyway, he loved to see her walk in her white dresses and freshly washed hair flowing with the wind. This woman sat next to him was gorgeous but he preferred his Y/N, he preferred the woman who would poke fun of casualty and rush into the woods with her nightgown. This woman next to him was pretty yes but she seemed tainted by a sadness he could see yet couldn’t help. He didn’t want his Y/N to be the slightest bit sad. She did not deserve it. She was too pure, too young to be consumed by the loneliness, darkness and sadness that came with being an adult. Yet again, he had to start learning the young woman she was wouldn’t stay young forever. He wanted to know how to help. he wanted to be the man who wakes up next to her on summer mornings and winter evenings but life is not how we plan it out to be.

She watched the snow fall from her window as “You are my sunshine” played on the background from her radio. Looking up to him, his eyes were glued to the road, the sign of leaving Knockemstiff way past them and the hotel on the horizon. She called it the Heartbreak hotel, with its red walls and luxurious nature. A more fancy place for those who wanted to give a better night to their mistresses but that was not why she called it the heartbreak hotel. It was due to the fact she ended up crying every time she or he left. While inside those walls, she could pretend they were Mr. and Mrs. Bodecker, young couple moved out of Knockemstiff on a romantic getaway yet she wasn’t Mrs. Bodecker, Jane was. She had seen who the future sheriff’s wife was and it was not and it would never be her. He stopped the car in the parking lot, looking at her who was lost in thought, leaned against his shoulder.

- Come on, sugar. What is it? - Lee kissed the top of her head. - The heck happened in that Town Hall?

- Just being silly, Lee. - she shook her head, faking a smile. - Just don’t like parties one bit.

- I hate ‘em too, sugar. All show no action. Besides no party is a party without my baby. - he hooked his ring finger under her chin, softly pulling it up. She tried not to look at the moonlight illuminating the silver band around his finger, a symbol he belonged to someone else and she knew it. She had seen the wedding photo on his secretary, a much younger Lee with a much younger Jane with the facade of a happy marriage. Thinking about it always made her sick and ever since seeing that picture she couldn’t bring herself to do so. - Come on, let’s get you a bubble bath, yeah?

She followed him into the hotel almost in a zombie like state until the reception. The talk was a dance she had danced before, it was all the same. Lee would present money in cash so it wouldn’t show up on his credit card statement. He would sign in with a fake address but with his own name and no one would question it. After all, the staff wanted money, they didn’t care if it was an illicit affair or not. To be honest, she didn’t care much anymore.

- Mrs. Bodecker? Mrs. Bodecker? - the receptionist called out to her but it didn’t even register until she was looking her into the eyes. Mrs. Bodecker, she was definitely not. - Would you like a complementary tea? You look cold.

- No, it’s okay. - she smiled while Lee grabbed the keys. His hand wrapped itself around hers, leading her over to the elevator.

God, she wanted him. She really did, he thought to himself. It was an unbelievable feeling to have someone who loved him back, someone who always had encouraging words to tell him, someone who would stay after a fight. He thought and imagine what it would’ve been like if she was born earlier, god he would’ve courted her and would’ve married her the second they were out of high school. Sadly, the woman he loved was born 10 years after and he met her when he was married. He led her to the 13th hotel room and closed the door behind them.

- Things are gonna be different when I’m sheriff. No more sneaking around, no one will dare say a word. I can move to Brewer Heights, heck, I can buy two houses, one just for you and me.

- Lee ...

- Where are your pearls, sugar? You know I love to see you with them, makes you look so pretty.

- You know I can’t wear them in public, Lee. I am not your ... - she shouldn’t say that, she should not let those words out. - They’re not insured under my name, people would comment about it.

- You worry too much. - he pushed the fur that covered her arms down, placing a small kiss on her elbow. - My little over-thinker.

- One of us has too, Captain Bodecker.

- How about some champagne? - he pointed towards the champagne bottle in the ice bucket by the dresser before walking towards it, raising it so he could inspect the brand. He longed for the finest things in life, no longer wanting to be that middle to low class man he’d been forced to be. Being Sheriff, Mayor someday was going to be really something, it’d be his chance.

- I’m not 21 yet, Captain.

- Only a month til you are, kid. - he filled two long crystal flutes, handing it over to them. - By then I should stop calling you kid, huh?

- You shouldn’t call me kid, now. - she took a sip of the golden liquid, hoping it would take away her jealousy. Lee hummed, leaned over to kiss the crock of her neck, climbing up to her jaw in a move that was sure to leave marks. It was okay for him to leave marks on her, she was unmarried, young but on him? Sometimes she wanted to, sometimes she wanted to mark his pale plump skin as a possession, one that screamed Jane might have the wedding ring but she had the man. Yet, she couldn’t. - You look so handsome tonight.

- You’re my worse critic. - he smirked, placing his glass on the bedside table before pulling her chin towards him, placing a soft kiss on her plump, painted lips. - God, you can’t even imagine how fucking hard I got when you walked in.

- Such gentle behaviour. - she teased, fingers lightly tracing the skin of his face. He moaned, leaning in to kiss her again. - I wore it just for you. Blue. I knw you like it.

- You’re always such a good girl for me. - he started to remove his jacket, pushing on her chest lightly so she laid against the luxurious bed.

The alcohol sure did a better job than her about making her forget what she was doing it. The alcohol and his kiss, his touch on her skin made her forget the clench in her heart when she saw Jane Bodecker clap once they said his name. It made her forget she couldn’t hear perfume around him unless he showered, it made her forget. Both of her moaned through the kiss, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that it was a sin. Maybe that’s why it taste so sweet, the sin, the thrill. None of them cared really and all he wanted to do now was hold her, touch her, look at her.

- You are so beautiful. - he spoke, more to himself than to her specifically, leaning down on the bed as he spread her legs, taking his place in between them which was so familiar to him. Lee ran his knuckles through the middle of her folds, cold hands making her shiver. - Ev’ry darn day I wake up and I think, I got myself the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, the white paint of it engulfing her as his hands caressed her thighs. All she could feel were his cold hands massaging the skin of her thighs, spreading them apart and giving him full access to her. His lips attacked her core, always chapped which made her feel so good, it made her know it was him giving her that pleasure. She moaned out loud as he dwelled in like a starved man, her head relaxing against the pillow. There was never any mercy with him, he teased her like he owned her, focusing on her clit while licking her folds. He had her exactly where he wanted her - starving for him.

- You’re gonna see. - he mumbled out while he relentlessly ate her out. - When I’m sheriff there will be no more hidin’. No one gonna dare say anythin’ about it.

- Lee, please ... no foreplay. - she whined, begged even as he stopped his motions. His eyes curiously searched for hers, hands pulling his body up as he stood on top of her. - I just want to feel you.

- Weren’t you feelin’ me, sugar?

- You know what I mean, Lee. - she wrapped her hands around his neck, head cocked to the side. - I don’t want any foreplay today.

- Oh sugar ... - he chuckled leaning down to kiss her collarbone. - You’re just a cock slut for me, aren’t ya? Can’t just wait for me to treat ya right ain’t it, baby?

- Lee, please. - she whined, hands wavering over his police issued chunky belt. Lee smirked, holding her hand before she could do anything. Y/N pouted, head leaning against her shoulder. - C’mon.

- But baby, you look so pretty when you’re begging. - he returned to kiss her neck, leaving marks which were sure to become hickeys tomorrow but she didn’t care. No one was going to see it. - I was expecting you to come congratulate me in the way you always do, maybe in the back of the town hall. Hoping someone would catch us so they’d see you’re my girl.

- Lee ... - she whined as he kept kissing her neck and collarbones. - Please.

- Tell me what you want, baby. You know I do everything you want. - he rose from her neck, toothy grin as he leaned down to kiss her plump, pink painted lips. - Tell me you want my big fat cock. I know you do, baby. Tell me how much you need it.

- Lee ... please, need you.

- You have me, baby, tell me what you need. Tell me what you want. - his knuckles ran through the middle of her folds again. - You’re so wet, baby. Just tell me what you want, c’mon

- Lee ... please. - she looked at him with those wide eyes that could get someone to commit murder for her, as he pushed down his trousers. - I want you to fuck me with your ... big fat cock, Capitain.

- Oh, baby ... - he leaned his forehead against hers as he pushed his cock past her entrance, eyes shut tight as he tried to keep himself sane at the mere feeling of her walls contracting against him. His lips found hers as he shed himself fully into her. Her hand searched for his, as Lee slowly rolled his hips against hers, basking in the mere high that was being inside of her. - You okay, baby?

- Yeah. ... fuck, move. - she whined as he removed himself from her and pushed back in, slowly starting to rock into her as he always did. The little tease. Her hand clenched his as he speed up his thrusts, lips returning to hers in a messy, moaned filled kiss. All she could hear was the sound of skin against skin and interrupted breathing. - Lee, fuck.

- I know, baby. - he laughed, returning to kiss her the way he liked as her walls started to clench more forcefully against his member, milking him for all he was worth. His free hand grabbed her hip as he further sped up against her, bruising her skin as his breaths got more raggedy. He bite onto her neck as he felt his control over his own orgasm disappear.

- Lee, fuck! - she moaned, almost raising off the bed as her own orgasm washed over her. Her head fell against the pillow, sluggish as he continued to thrust into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. He chuckled mid grunt, holding her against him as he turned around in bed.

- You all fucked up, aren’t ya, sugar? - he kissed the top of her head. - You’re gonna see, sugar. Things are gonna be so much better.

- Right ... - she cuddled against his chest. - Hm ... Lee can you drive me back home early on?

- Early shift?

- Yeah.

- Okay, sugar.

The morning was a harsh breaker of dreamy hazes and just like that she was back to the place where she always was, in her home, surrounded by the scent of the perfume she had bought just for him. She sat on her dress, taking the necklace he had given her from the little mother of pearl seashell shaped box and holding them against her chest. She loved him, she really did. Some people had their downfalls and hers was painted onto her neck and held by her hands. He was her downfall.

The sun was high up on the snowy midday in Knockemstiff and once again Lee had been resigned to desk duty after the Sheriff not taking it too lightly he decided to run without his permission. Normally he would’ve been upset but he knew, he knew he was close to winning and then he could throw away those stupid hotels and just get her a little house close to him. God, he couldn’t fucking wait.

- Captain Bodecker, someone here for you. - his secretary knocked on his door. - Mary Gillies, sir.

- Mary Gillies? - he knew her to be a friend of Y/N’s, perhaps her only friend other than that punk Billy. - Send her in.

- Good afternoon, captain. - she said as she walked into his office. - I’m so sorry to be bothering but Y/N ...

- Is she alright? - he interrupted her.

- Yes, well ... - she rummaged through her bag to find a cushioned envelope with his name on it. - She told me to give you this.

- What is it?

- I don’t know, captain. I must get going, my husband is waiting for me.

- Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Gillies.

He waited for the woman to be out of his office and for the door to be shut for him to open the envelope. The minute he opened the envelope, pearls fell into his desk, the same pearls he had given Y/N followed by a small note in the dusty pink stationary that normally laid on her dresser. Turning it around, he saw the words he’d been dreading to read or hear ever since he met her. I’m sorry, Lee. He threw the letter on his desk before getting up from his desk as fast as he could, ignoring the calls from his colleagues as he got into his cruiser. Damned, Brewer Heights, why couldn’t it be closer?

He approached her home fast and closed the door as fastly as he ran up to the door. Her hag of a grandmother was possibly at church and he had learned where they kept the spare key; behind a violet pot. His heart was beating as fast as a deer on a hunt as he climbed up the stairs and found the once filled room was empty, with only a perfume bottle on her empty dresser. He observed the whole room as if he were in a nightmare, sitting on her bed as he clenched the pearls he had given her not so long ago, the smell of daisies in the air as some song played on the still turned on radio.

You never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

Text

Carrots and Whiskers (JJK x Reader) 💜🔞🐾

🥕 Pairing: Rabbit!Jungkook x Wolf!Reader

🥕 Genre: Hybrid AU, fluff, smut because why not amirite-

🥕 Warnings: stereotyping, mild mentions of past bullying, fluff, oh god they’re so cute, Dom!Jungkook despite being technically food for Sub!Reader, Dirty talk, it’s sweet though he ain’t calling his baby a hoe don’t worry, unprotected sex because in this hybrid universe they’re unable to conceive due to their different species, please keep that in mind thank you, sweet sweet lovemaking, aftercare, buff boi JK, Big dick JK but what’s new I guess, yeah I’m done now

🥕 Summary: He’s the prey and she’s the predator. So why does she feel like the roles are reversed?

This is a oneshot! If you have any ideas for future content in this universe, feel free to send in asks or requests!

A reputation could easily define your entire life it it was bad enough.

Both sides knew this; Jeon Jungkook, being depicted as the cowardly prey hybrid he was, and Y/N, the bad bad wolf with always malicious intentions. However, none of these depictions were actually true.

Jeon Jungkook was an actually pretty rough and brave young man, never really backing down from a challenge, uncaring on who was in front of him. He got into trouble often as a kid, as a teenager, and now as a young adult.

Y/N was soft spoken, a caring yet quiet hybrid who liked to stay hidden, the spotlight being more of a fear than a goal for her. She loved the simple things in life, liked to be by herself or surrounded by people she trusted and loved.

And she also got a major crush on the bunny in her art and music class.

It was quite cliche really, yet it also wasn't- it was as if she was stuck in a bad joke, never to make it to the punchline. She knew for a fact that he probably didn't even knew who she was, and the worst part about it was that she couldn't even blame him. She loved to not be seen, after all.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Said the voice, forcefully hitting her as she looked up, her own eyes meeting the big brown orbs of-

wait.

"I eh, we're supposed to choose partners for this project, and I know for a fact that you can draw so eh, wanna be partners?" He asked, and she simply stared. Was he- talking to her? "I mean, Its okay if you don't want to-" He started, the squirrel hybrid girl behind him already perking up at her chance, making her swallow a bit.

"N-no, I uhm.. I'd like that." She squeezed out, voice quiet, but he thankfully still heard her. He smiled, brightly and so awfully cliche as his bunny-like teeth showed, sitting down next to her as he pulled out his sketches. "So uh, what did you have in mind.?" She quietly asked, and he talked away, as if he'd always known her.

"Well since we weren't given much other than the theme and colors, I made some small sketches. You know, I get Ideas that are pretty neat sometimes but then I forget them easily, so I have to draw or write them down right away, otherwise I'll wanna bite my own ass later on." He rambled on, gently moving the rough sketches towards her, his eyes watching her as she looked at them, carefully studying his lines.

"This- this one would fit, I think.." She mumbled, tapping on one of his more detailed drawings. He grinned again, nodding, seemingly in agreement. He attempted to say something as the bell rang, students around them both scrambling up to get out as soon as possible, either to catch a bus or to drive home on their bikes.

"Hey do you-" He stumbled, his foot catching on a stray chair as he almost fell. "Do you wanna meet up on the weekend? That way we can finish faster, you know, time to sleep in class." He said, and she simply nodded, until he held his hand out. Her head tilted to the side, ears flopping a bit as he chuckled, mumbling. "cute. Your phone, so I can give you my number?" He explained, and she blushed, stepping back a bit as she placed her bag down on the table next to her, pulling out her phone, charms on the device dangling, making him smile. She really was adorable. "Alright." He said as he took it after she'd opened the phone app, his fingers typing away, before he gave it back to her. "Do you take the bus home?" He asked, and she nodded. "Oh really? I thought the pink bike outside was yours actually." He chatted away as she walked next to him, now a bit shy.

"I actually.. well, I can't, you know, ride a bike, so.." She mumbled, and he laughed for a moment, until he went quiet, sensing that she was serious.

"I eh, I could you know, teach you, if you want?" He asked as he unlocked his own bike. "I mean, not now but like, this weekend?" He asked, and she looked a bit hesitant. "I mean, you don't have to. But I promise I won't let you get hurt." It seemed odd maybe, for a prey hybrid to say that to a predator, but for her, it seemed like the most cheesy and romantic thing she'd ever heard. So she smiled, and nodded. "I uhm.. I think your bus left-" He pointed out, making her ears droop as she watched the vehicle drive off without her. "I can bring you home. It's kind of my fault you missed it, after all." He said, scratching the back of his neck as he suddenly rumbled in his backpack, pulling out a zip hoodie, before folding it, and placing it on the bag of his bike. "My'lady." He offered, and she giggled, making his ears flinch in excitement.

She'd been unaware of him for long enough, and after a talk with his fellow friend Taehyung, he'd decided to finally act on his interest in her. Even though he did get some odd looks from his classmate Jimin, he didn't care about what she was- he cared more about who. Her drawings were always so detailed in a way that would show exactly what she'd though while creating each line, something he always found remarkable. She also had a talent for photography, a hobby he had for himself as well.

"Hold on tight okay?" He said, and she nodded, her arms moving around his waist, redness creeping onto her cheeks as she felt his toned body underneath his thin shirt and loose jean jacket. She held a bit tighter as he finally pushed the bike forward, paddling at a decent pace that made her hair flow a bit with the wind. She couldn't help but enjoy the moment; the way his smell calmed her, the scenery around her, and the fact that it seemed like everything was finally working out for her.

"I'm gonna let go now and you'll just-" He started, but she suddenly grew anxious, her wide eyes immediately finding his.

"no no don't let go I'm gonna fall-" She scrambled out, scared as he simply laughed, one hand on her back as he kept the other on the bike for now.

"I promised, didnt I?" He hummed into her ear, and she blushed at the gentle tone of his voice. He was everything she never thought a prey hybrid would be; he was cunning, brave, and confident in himself. He wasn't after attention at all, simply trying to live his life yet he pulled everyones gaze on himself wherever he went simply by nature. His ears seemed too soft to be legal in her opinion, black and white tuft of fur that was his tail seemingly completely out of place; the rest of his body was toned. It showed that he knew how to take care of himself, it underlined the way he held himself wherever he went.

He was the complete opposite of her it seemed.

She liked to hide in oversized clothing, hybrid features the only thing really giving away that she wasn't just a mouse in disguise.

To him however, it was an entirely different story.

She was so sweet, always trying to help, and always trying to not be a burden. She had so much talent, a unique way of seeing the world, and a gentle way of always looking out for others. It also didn't ease his crush on her that she was absolutely beautiful in his eyes; shorter in statue than him, surprisingly, but he was pretty tall for a rabbit hybrid, he had to admit. His mother had once told him about the different subspecies of wolves when she'd noticed his crush on the girl; her best friend having been a wolf hybrid as well when she'd still been in school. Apparently there were different subtypes for them; alphas, betas and omegas. He guessed that the girl on his bike was an omega, maybe, as it would explain all her characteristics.

"You're doing so great!" He said, bunny smile making her feel more confident as she noticed he only held her by her back; she was actually riding a bike. "See? You can do it!" He happily exclaimed as he helped her off, seat a bit high for her to get down herself. "Lets sit down there and exchange some sketches, yeah?" He offered, and she nodded with a smile, walking next to him as they both sat down on the grass, after Jungkook had put down a small blanket he'd taken with him. "Okay, hit me." He playfully shot her way, as she pulled out her sketchbook, simply sliding it towards him as he opened it, looking through the pages she'd opened for him. "Uah, these are great! I'd use a bit more color on these ones, but the rest is awesome!" He mumbled in thought as he proceeded to change the page, his eyes widening at a familiar pair of eyes, when two delicate hands held his wrist in place.

"Pl-Please uh, that's not for the project eh-" She stuttered, panic evident in her voice as her red face and tilted ears gave away her embarrassment. He simply stared for a moment, before his other hand simply loosened her grip on his wrist, freeing himself without much force. He slowly turned the page, revealing multiple rough sketches of..

Him.

It was him, not very detailed, but clearly visible. Small scenarios were drawn on the page, him staring out the open window of the classroom as he talked to friends, him at the sidelines of his basketball game as he'd taken a break, or him asleep on his desk during class. He studied the drawings, noticing how she'd not cared much about his clothing, or the background; even the desk or the window weren't really drawn very realistically, simply a fast sketch. What did stand out was.. well, his face. The way the sun reflected in his eyes, how his ears had been slightly damp from the slight rain outside, or the tiny things he would've never thought she'd notice about him, like the tiny beauty mark under his lower lip, the slight scar just above his cheek, or how the sides of his eyes crinkled when he laughed, nose scrunched up.

As he looked up she was looking down, hair hiding her eyes as her ears were flat against her skull, tail in her hands, which nervously fiddled with the fur. "I-" He started, before he began to open his own bag, ruffling around in it as his own ears lowered themselves while he tried to find something. "Hah!" He exclaimed in victory, hands sliding off the rubber band of his own folder which kept his messily organized sketches and finished works. He rummaged through them, before he started to lay some of them out in front of her, one by one. Slowly, her ears turned, attention on what he'd put down in front of her.

He always had a different way of drawing things, not really putting a lot of effort into the outlines or sketches themselves; but he had a way of coloring things, a unique style that made things feel almost alive. In every picture, he'd dedicated most of his effort to color the fur of her hybrid features almost perfectly- he also payed special attention to her postures in every picture. He never drew her eyes however- which she noticed. "I uhm.. I've never got the chance to see them up close, so I had a bit of trouble with them.." He explained. "I've noticed you pretty early when we shared our first classes together.. But I never really got around to talk to you. You and Namjoon-Hyung always seemed so close, I thought.." He revealed, scratching behind his own ear as he suddenly felt a bit bashful.

"You.. I mean, Joonie is a good friend but we uh.." She started, voice a bit low as she laughed a bit.

"I know, I know, he told me-" Jungkook answered, now chuckling. "Thats why I immediately took my chance when they'd announced the group project." He said. "It gave me a chance to you know, get to know you better. Get closer, you know?" He explained, and she nodded. "So uh.." He mumbled, before he smiled at her hopefully. "Wanna uh- get cake together today? Like a date?" He asked, and she nodded, making him suddenly jump up as he fist bumped the air, making a passerby elderly couple laugh. "Yes!"

"Carrot cake?" She asked, an almost teasing smile on her lips as he looked at her.

"What? Don't judge puppy!" He said, making her scoff scandalized.

"Hey, I'm a wolf, not a dog!" She explained as she stirred her milkshake with her pink straw before grabbing the spoon from her small metal plate.

"And I'm a rabbit, not a bunny. So guess we're even." He said, before his smile faded a bit, eyes stuck to the spoonful of whipped cream which made its way inside her mouth, tongue darting out to lick her lips clean before she noticed his gaze. He snapped out of it, suddenly the one growing a bit shy. "You uh.. wait, lemme just-" He mumbled, hand moving to wipe the corner of her mouth as he licked his finger clean himself, making her eyes widen before she mumbled a 'thanks' under her breath. He grinned.

"So uh-" He asked, pushing down his small cake fork to pick up a piece of cake, holding it out towards her. "open up?" He asked, and she hesitated a bit, before leaning forward a bit, lips parting. He placed the piece into her mouth, watching as she closed her lips, accepting his offering of food before she nodded her head approvingly. "See? Don't judge before you try!" He exclaimed, and she giggled at that.

He was right.

"I'm absolutely beat." He suddenly exclaimed, falling down onto the mattress laying on the ground in the corner of the new, unfurnished bedroom. The wolf hybrid sat down next to his sprawled out form, gently moving his blonde tipped hair away from his eyes. He'd dyed it months ago, his roots more than visible at this point, yet he'd simply decided to let it grow. "Come here~!" He playfully demanded, hands reaching out for her as he pulled her down with him, happily humming when she was laying on his chest. "Can you believe we're actually gonna live together from now on?" He asked, and she shook her head, moving around a bit so she straddled him, sat on his thighs as he suddenly watches her with hooded eyes, hands on her hips as his thumbs move in circles over the skin underneath her sweater- his sweater. "Hm.. I mean.." He offered, suddenly moving to sit up, changing position as she's now underneath him, his hair tickling her face slightly when he begins to kiss against her pulse. "I was about to ask if we should at least put up the bedframe, but having a mattress on the floor.." He started, hands wandering underneath the clothing of his she wore as he continued in a low voice. "..means I can't break the bed this time." He said, and she giggled at that, remembering the time their time together had been roughly interrupted by the weak frame of his old bed breaking. "Oh, my puppy thinks that's funny?" He wonders, making her grin as he kissed her deeply.

Moments like these made her almost forget the stereotypes she'd grown up with during her live- since Jungkook was nothing like the typically depicted rabbit hybrids. Because right now the roles seemed completely reversed, as he mouthed at her neck, feeling her pulse race as he continued to map out her body with just his hands, no need to watch where they were, able to seemingly paint a picture of her by touch at this point. Clothes suddenly seemed to tight, itchy, as if bitten by a mosquito. She whined as he chuckled darkly, helping her out of his sweater as he immediately grabbed her breasts, kneading them before he continued to undress her, making quick work of her shorts as he pulled down her underwear as well- her already glistening center clinging to the damp fabric of her underwear as she squirmed, making him humm in appreciation. He pulled his own shirt over his head as well, revealing his body to her as the sun outside painted glowing stripes onto it, the blinds drawing patterns on her skin as well. He finally freed himself from the confines of his own underwear as well, standing proud and ready as she became restless.

"Hm, puppy wants to be filled up yeah?" He asked with a teasing undertone, proudly making use of the privilege to be able to call her that- since she hated it when others did it. It was the same the other way around however; typically, being called a 'bunny' was an absolute insult to him, but for some reason it seemed like a cute nickname coming from her. Maybe he was just whipped. Or maybe she was just privileged as well.

He entered her slowly as he sighed alongside her, not wasting any time as he fell into rhythm, hips thrusting forwards as her hands reached for his, intertwining their fingers as he felt his soul warm up at the gesture. He felt so loved, so cherished, it made him fear for his heart, as he swore it stopped every time he was close to her like this. He felt complete, like he'd found his soulmate, his other half- it didn't matter to him what she was. Sure, his parents were a bit dissapointed since they couldn't have kids naturally because of this, but they both could always adopt in the future. Thinking about it made his heart swell as he thought about her, caring for their kids, making this small apartment into a family home one day. Maybe it was instinct, but he'd already been driven nuts by the way she'd helped him choose furniture and wallpaper for the small living space they'd be sharing; the simple fact that she wanted to make their apartment into a home feeding his inner instincts to build a home to keep her safe in.

He felt her legs shake a bit as he shifted a bit, making her whine as he suddenly picked up his pace, sweat already slowly beginning to coat his skin as he didn't seem to notice how the sound of skin against skin still echoed in the almost empty room since it lacked furniture- but it didn't matter for now anyways. They'd both fill it with things and memories of the both of them, and he couldn't wait for it. He huffed a bit as he moved, leaning down a bit to rest his forehead against her neck as she bared it for him, a natural instinct of hers to submit to him even if he was of another species with no need of such gestures. He'd adapted to it however, gently biting the skin as he felt her shiver underneath him, a sign that she was getting close. "Hm my baby wanna cum?" He asked, gently beginning to tease her as she nodded, eyes closed in bliss. "You want a knot huh?" He asked, and she shook her head no, as he chuckled. He'd felt a bit insecure the first few times around as he knew how things worked for canine hybrids, worried that he maybe couldn't give her what she wanted or needed, yet she'd always reassured him. Now it was more like a teasing thing for him, and a way to tickle a praise out of her- a way of reminding himself that she loved him just as much as she did her. "No? You don't?" She shook her head again, her fingers holding his hands tighter. "What do you want then, huh?" He asked with a grin as she whined.

"You- you, only want ngh.. only need Kookie-!" She pressed out, and he hummed approvingly, his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy as he neared his end.

"That's right, only me, only mine, yeah?" He asked, and she nodded, suddenly opening mouth as her head buried itself into the mattress below her, clenching around him as he groaned out, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled. "Thats it, take it like a puppy- good girl!" He praised, making her whine as he leaned his body down, kissing her neck, her throat, and then her lips as they both calmed down from their highs, breathing slowly growing more and more even as he moved a bit to grab a box as he slid it towards him, rummaging through it before he took out a roll of kitchen towels, grabbing a few as he slipped out of her, carefully catching his release and her own juices as to not make a mess. He had a gentle smile on his face as he carefully cleaned her up before he stood, walking towards another box where he pulled out a large pillow and a few blankets, instincts taking over as he began to cover her now rapidly cooling body in soft fabrics before cuddling up next to her, pulling another blanket over his own form as he made sure his partner was comfortable. She slipped out of her makeshift blanket burrito to invite him in, making him grin his signature bunny smile as he held her close, skin on skin as he closed his eyes, the only light in the room the streetlamps outside.

This already felt like home.

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