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no-droids · 3 years

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gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

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

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

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

Day 5–11:13am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Extravagant, magnificent are both words. Floral is another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s here… isn’t he?

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

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

This… this is a taunt.

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

“You okay, Nerida?”

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when you see him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unless…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naydee smiles and nods. “Sounds perfect.”

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

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

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

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something catches your eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Behind you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

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

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

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

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

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

—Bong—

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

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

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

One o’clock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes you a second.

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

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

“Ma—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Commotion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crib—he forgot the crib—

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

You raise your voice. “Din?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, well. You could just about fucking cry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home.

***

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

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

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wardenparker · 2 years

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From Dorne, with Love - part 6

Oberyn Martell x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Your little sister is marrying her fairy tale princess on the exotic desert island nation of Dorne. Your soon-to-be sister-in-law’s playboy uncle is the other member of the wedding party along with you, but will your opposite approaches to life drive you apart before the ceremony even begins? Or is it possibly the beginning of a future you never thought possible?

Rating: Teen for the chapter, but this is an 18+ blog! Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Some instances of reader being pig-headedly stubborn and some ��ugly American’ moments, but we learn and grow in this house. Another one of our patented shitty families.* Vague discussions of politics, pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, Aja being an absolute menace, Oberyn is also a menace but in a much more evil way, confessions/secrets, Karen-like behaviour, talk of cheating/domestic discord, but in general just a metric fuck-ton of fluff. Summary: Aja brings a surprise up to the mountains, and a very different surprise walks through the door back in NYC. Notes: This is it, guys! Next week is the epilogue. ✨💖 Thank you so much to everyone who came along for this journey and fell in love with this beautiful family. And a giant, jumping, excited WELCOME TO THE FANDOM to my work sis Aja - who granted us the use of her name for this lovely character before ever having read a word of fanfic.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Epilogue

Lily and Aja arranged for the car to drive up to see your parents. Living in the city was too expensive to justify the cost of garaging a car, so the SUV they had arranged was definitely far different than what Lily normally would have gotten. Since their marriage, she had officially become a part of the royal family and was given a living expense account that she’s sure they will never spend all of so it’s good to be able to indulge a bit on the trip back home.

“You’re in charge of renting cars for the rest of our lives,” you joke halfway through the three-hour drive. Lily is playing deejay on the complex sound system while Aja snacks on yet another dried-seafood smelling shrimp chip from yesterday’s trip to Koreatown. They had come with you to your doctor’s appointment this morning, but only after playing a round of Will these weird smells make our pregnant sister sick. Aja had declared herself the winner when her obscure chip flavours survived the game.

“I have no problem with that.” She grins over at you before sliding her hand into Aja’s chip bag to steal one. “Why should we drive when someone else can?”

“Where is this guy going to hang out for two more days before we go back to the city?” The divider is up, separating the three of you in the back of the car from your driver, but you still instinctively lower your voice to try not to be rude. “Is your travel budget going to cover his motel room or something?” There are intricacies of the whole allowance thing that you don’t really understand, and you’ve never asked about a number, so you truly are clueless as to how the whole thing works.

Aja gives a small laugh and nods. “Yes, the service provides for lodging and meals for our driver while we are here.” She tells you. “Although he can always go back to the city and come pick us up in two days if he wished.”

“He might be better off.” From your own bag, you’re snacking on Cheez-Its like it’s the last food on earth, digging out the last crumbs from the box you had only opened this morning. “There’s not much to do in the mountains.”

“He’s not going to.” Aja tells you. “He gets paid to sit in a hotel, eat out and watch tv.” She snorts. “It’s his own vacation.”

“I’d take that job in a heartbeat.” You hum at the idea of being paid to relax despite knowing you’d be bored within hours. “Me and all the Cheez-its in a twenty-mile radius.”

“First pregnancy craving.” Lily squeals happily and reaches over into the over large bag she had stuffed with snack to pull out two more boxes of Cheez-Its. “Pizza flavor or regular?” She demands, holding them up for you to choose.

“Regular!” The way your eyes light up at seeing the boxes is comical and Lily is completely right. The way you’ve been chowing down on the salty snack lately definitely qualifies it as your first craving. “Save the pizza for a couple of hours from now when I’m pouting over Mom’s inevitable lecture on restraint that will be seven weeks too late.”

“I also brought a couple cans of Pringle’s.” She confides in a low voice. “Sour cream and onion and salt and vinegar.”

“You’re my favourite sister.” You tell her in the completely deadpan voice you always save just for that statement and immediately laughing afterward. “We all packed so many snacks. I have a whole bag of Australian licorice and an unopened box of hot and spicy Cheez-Its in my weekender.”

Aja giggles and shakes her head. “Cheez-Its are definitely a must for this baby.” She muses fondly. “I wonder when your fruit craving will start. All of the mothers had intense fruit cravings.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” Popping a few of the cheesy, salty crackers in your mouth, you sit back in your seat and ruminate on the question a little while you chew. “It’s a good thing summer’s coming, I guess. If I’m going to have fruit cravings, at least the fruit will be at its peak.”

“I will have Dornish plums sent to you.” Aja decides. “They are amazing and one of my own favorites. As well as Oberyn’s.”

There’s no use pretending the gesture is anything less than sweet, or that it doesn’t make you ache a little in spite of that sweetness. “Thanks.” You reach across Lily and squeeze Aja’s hand gently.

The rest of the drive goes by quickly, only a few comments made about the fact that you plowed through the entire box of Cheez-Its. Soon the car is turning into the familiar driveway of your parent’s house, making Lily reach for your hand to reassure you. “We’ll be right here.”

“Should I just pull the bandage off right away?” You stare at the massive outdoor staircase that leads up to the front door of your parents’ house and genuinely consider sneaking in through the basement-level garage but that really would qualify as pure cowardice.

"I wouldn't walk in the door and announce it." Lily tells you seriously. "But the question of why everyone is here is bound to come up and that would be your queue." She squeezes your hand again and Aja pulls out here phone when it dings, checking a message.

“Here goes nothing, I guess.” With a loaded sigh, you square your shoulders and climb out of the car. Lily is right behind you while Aja gives instructions to the driver before catching up with you. The earthy smell of the woods and the babbling of the small stream that runs in back of your childhood home are welcoming comforts on a day when you’re about to tell them that everything is changing - just as much of a comfort as your father’s two giant mutts barking and howling their hellos from the back porch. “The welcoming committee.” You joke as you turn to head for the back of the house instead of the front door. If the dogs are out, then your parents probably are too.

“I will get the bags inside.” Aja offers, knowing the front door will be unlocked. “You two walk around back and greet your parents.” She moves over to the few small bags that the three of you had packed for a weekend in the mountains.

“Where are my boys?” From the top of the porch steps, the two giant Golden Saint dogs that your parents have had since you were in high school are bouncing up and down with absolute joy to see more of their pack at home. Even if they’re getting a bit older now, the slobbering sweet dogs are still your favorite cuddle buddies.

“They are wherever your father is, as always.” Your mother is sitting in her favorite Adirondack chair with a book of crossword puzzles and a midafternoon cup of coffee while your father has veered in the direction of a bottle of Dr Pepper and a bowl of potato chips that he’s munching on while petting the dogs.

“How was the drive, girls?” She looks around for a second and her eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Aja didn’t come? We were looking forward to seeing all three of you.”

"She's taking the bags into the house." Lily explains, coming over to hug her father, who has lumbered out of his on chair with a groan before leaning over your mother's chair to kiss her cheek. "Hey mom." Coming home was both relaxing and stressful, good memories intertwined with those of awkwardness and disagreements, but this was home.

“Hi sweetie.” Your mother squeezes Lily’s shoulders gently and returns her kiss before giving you the same greeting. You go say hello to your father right after, and plop inelegantly down on the porch with the dogs. “Not that we don’t love a surprise, but what’s the occasion?”

“We can’t just want to see our parents?” You ask, trying for an air of innocence but knowing that it falls woefully short. Both of your parents shoot you ‘you could but you don’t’ looks and you laugh at having your bluff called. “Fine. I have some news. But it can wait until dinner. Lily and Aja’s honeymoon photos are an absolute sight to behold.”

"Are you alright?" Your mother's frown is one of concern, trying very hard to change her own behaviors that are so quick to rise to the surface. Normally she would demand to know what was going on, but her part of building a better relationship with you was patience. "I'll wait as long as you can assure me you are okay."

“I’m totally fine.” And so is the baby, supplies your mind, but you shove your hand under your leg to keep from rubbing your still-unsuspecting stomach. “Really, the photos are gorgeous. They’re worth seeing.”

"Alright." There is still a worried look on her face, but she doesn't push the issue. "There's still coffee in the pot if you want a cup."

“No thanks.” God yes. You’d love it, but the little sand snake means it’s no longer an option. “We snacked on the way up, I might explode if I put anything else in my system.” That’s the explanation you give, anyway, to soothe your mother’s surprise. Seeing you turn down coffee is like seeing one of the dogs turn down a treat.

She hums but doesn't comment. Instead, she turns to Lily with a smile. "So, your honeymoon. Did you have a good time?" She asks. "I looked up the resort you were at and it looks beautiful."

“I didn’t want to leave.” Lily sighs happily, easily pulling focus away from you so you can relax a little before dropping your bomb on the family. She has a whole album of photos on her phone to share and a small handful of PG rated stories. Once those run out, you’re on your own.

“I could imagine. Lots of sunshine, like Dorne, I’ve noticed.” Your mother takes a sip of her coffee and looks out at the mountains. “You girls have always loved the hotter climates. I remember our trip to Florida. You both begged to move there.”

“I wanted to move to Florida, Lils wanted to move into Cinderella’s Castle.” You can’t help the smile that appears on your face, adoring that your little sister got her fairy tale that she always dreamt of. “She was very specific.”

Lily winks at Aja when she comes out onto the back deck. “Why do you think I went for a princess?” She teases, knowing that everyone knows that she had no clue who Aja was when they met and started dating. She just knew she was interested in the other girl.

Both dogs loll their heads in Aja’s direction and their tails start wagging immediately when she reaches down to scratch their heads. “That reminds me. Uncle Doran and Aunt Mel will be traveling by the time we get back, so we can have them at the new house when get back from Portugal.”

“I cannot believe a king and queen make house visits.” Your mother shakes her head, amazed at the difference between Dorne’s royal family and others. “But then again, didn’t Queen Elizabeth show up to someone’s wedding after getting an invitation?”

“Aja is second in line to the throne.” Lily reminds them proudly, glad to give her wife a soft kiss when the princess in question comes to sit down beside her. “Having the king and queen to dinner at our house would be like Queen Elizabeth going to have dinner with Will and Kate.”

“Forgive me for saying, but I hope that you never become queen.” She tells Aja, knowing that it will mean that the prince she had met would have been lost to the world. Along with his parents.

“Trystane will be a very capable king someday, and I look forward to supporting him.” It’s not even a diplomatic answer even though it sounds like it. Aja’s cousin Trystane may be young, but he has pride in his country and optimism for the future - two things which are key. “We have plenty of things to do now that Lily is officially part of the royal family. Uncle Doran has been picking out her royal patronage.”

“What does that mean?” Your mother asks, completely unaware of what goes on in a royal family.

“It means that I get to be an advocate.” Lily’s legs are tucked under her in her seat while she holds her wife’s hand. “I’ll be on the board of some charities and sponsor some organizations that the royal family supports.” She’s proud that Doran and Mellario are ready to trust her with actual royal duties and don’t just regard her as a supporting character in Aja’s life. She has been welcomed into the family with open arms and wants to make them proud. “The first few will probably be science and education related. I’m hoping to be patron to the royal hospitals if Doran agrees to it.” It all connects to everything she studied, and since her studies are what brought her and Aja together, it’s both sentimental and a point of pride.

“That’s incredible.” She’s proud of Lily, and reaches over to pat her husband’s hand. “Our girl is going to be important. Do good in the world.” She huffs and looks back at Lily. “Just don’t become like our politicians.”

“I’m not a politician at all.” Lily returns her mother’s gesture and beams at Aja. “I’m a politician’s wife. And Aja’s new patronage is an organization for queer kids who are having trouble at home. Everything from discreet therapy and help hotlines to funding shelters and resource centers across the country for kids who have been kicked out or disowned.”

“That will be right up your alley.” Your mom comments, your dad nodding in agreement. “Although your family is wonderfully…open…not all are.” She muses, more tactful that she would have been and there is not a hint of disapproval in the comment. Since telling you about her past, at her husband’s insistence, she’s started seeing a therapist.

“We are trying to use that openness to set an example of tolerance and acceptance for our people.” Aja glances at you slightly, not wanting to say anything but believing in her heart since your announcement a few days ago that you are more family than ever. “The world is changing fast, and it can be hard to keep up with sometimes. But we don’t want any Dornish children to fall through the cracks.”

“Children are innocent and shouldn’t have to suffer because of adult small mindedness.” She hums. “I owe you and Lily an apology for my behavior at your wedding.” She shifts slightly and squeezes her husband’s hand for reassurance. “I realize I was not the best at times and I’m sorry if I caused a moment of unhappiness. And….” She sighs. “I’ve thought about what you have said, Lily. If you and Aja decide not to have children, I won’t say a word about it.” She promises. The disappointment in not having a grandchild is fierce, but she also didn’t want to lose her kids.

“It’s not just our decision.” Lily slides off her seat to hug her mother tightly, knowing that it can’t be easy at all for her to say these things and actually mean them. “If we adopted, the laws about the line of succession get dicey. And if we chose to use a sperm donor so Aja could carry our baby, whoever that man is who is our donor becomes attached to the royal family permanently. They have to be carefully screened and make it through all kinds of background checks. It’s…a lot to ask of someone.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way before.” She admits, hugging her daughter back fiercely. “I just want you to be happy. All three of you because Aja is my daughter now too.” She looks over at her daughter-in-law over Lily’s shoulder and gives her a smile.

“We are happy.” Aja assured her, lifting one arm for Lily to cuddle into her side when she comes to sit back down. “We promise.”

There couldn’t be a clearer or more obviously appropriate time for your news, since you’re all on the subject anyway, and you glance over at Lily and Aja nervously before digging into your purse for the carefully wrapped framed sonogram photo you brought from the city. “Since we’re on the topic of happiness.” You exhale carefully, willing the sudden feeling of terrified nausea to subside as you hand your mother the little parcel. “I brought you guys something.”

“Honey.” You dad shakes his head and sighs. “You coming home is all the gift we need.” He promises, making your mother hum in agreement even though she’s already opening the package. “Oh, a picture frame. And—” she stops and stares at it for a long moment before she looks up and her eyes find yours.

“Surprise.” You manage, much more weakly than you’re proud of. It’s still such huge news and every time you say it out loud it’s like processing it for the first time all over again. “You’re going to be grandparents.”

“Oh...” For once in her life, she speechless, looking back down at the photo before your dad reaches over to take the frame from her hands. “Oh!” She looks at you again, her face a combination of delight and concern as she realizes when this must have happened. “Oh baby.” She gets up out of the chair and moves over to you. “Are you okay? How do you feel about it? Does he know?” She asks as she wraps her arms around you.

You’re frozen for a full thirty seconds before hugging her back with all your might, and making a mental note to send your mother’s new therapist a basket of expensive wine and chocolate because she is a miracle worker. There is no yelling, only support and concern, and you’re so grateful that your tears are almost instant. “I’m okay.” You sniffle, looking over her shoulder to get a beat on your dad’s reaction. “But I, uh…I don’t know if I’m going to tell him. I haven’t decided…”

Your dad is staring down at the photo, a quiet sniffle coming from the silent man, and he reaches out to touch the picture. “A grand baby.” He murmurs to himself.

There’s a surprised squeak from your mom, but she cuts herself off before she can give unsolicited opinions. “It’s your choice.”

“I know you’re disappointed about how it happened.” The look you give your mother says you appreciate that she didn’t say it even though you know it’s true. “But having my parents support me in this will mean a lot.”

“Of course we are going to support you.” That comes out of her mouth instead of anything else. “You are our daughter. And you’re going to become a mother of your own child.” She sniffles slightly and looks back at your dad. “I remember when I was pregnant with you like it was yesterday.”

“She’s got her first craving.” Lily pipes up, wanting the conversation to stay fun and upbeat. If she can steer your parents towards the silly things right now instead of the hard or scary ones - at least for today - then she’ll have done her job as your cheerleading little sister. You’ve been all alone in this and scared for weeks now. It’s time to start looking forward to things.

“What were you craving?” Your mom asks, smiling at the idea of you already experiencing some of the fun things of pregnancy.

“Cheez-its.” It feels silly, but it has you cracking a slow-growing grin and you can finally let your hands rest on your unchanged belly. “I was hoping it would be something I could at least make new recipes around, but I went straight to snack food.”

You mom blinks and then laughs. “Oh, I craved potato chips when I was expecting you. Lays original and chocolate ice cream together.”

“Oooh,” your eyes blow wide and Lily snorts. “That sounds really good.”

“Don’t give her ideas, dear.” Your dad chuckles and stands up, groaning as he gets out of his chair again. Coming over to you and when your mother pulls away, he takes her place hugging you. “Had me going out to the convenience store two towns over at one in the morning for a bag of chips and a carton of ice cream.”

“I’ll have to make sure my kitchen is always stocked with possibilities.” Thankfully, life in New York City means almost anything can be at your fingertips if you’re willing to go for a walk, but that doesn’t mean you want to be out walking the streets at two in the morning. The dogs all but lay on top of you to get in on being hugged, and you and your father both scratch them behind the ears reflexively. “My doc says everything looks great and I’m taking my vitamins and her instructions seriously. It’s just…it surprised the hell out of me. I’ve only known for about two weeks now.”

“Are you experiencing any nausea?” Your mom asks. “I have some peppermint tea if you are.”

“So far it’s when I get tired, I’ll get nauseous too.” It was odd to connect the dots - thinking you had been ignoring your eating habits and letting yourself get too hungry, but it was actually the pregnancy. “So I’m trying to respect the idea that naptime might be a very real thing for the next eight-ish months.”

“Oh it will be.” Your mother strokes your back and smiles. “It’s hard work, growing a human. Takes a lot out of you.” She bites her lip and pauses before she opens her mouth again. “Sweetheart, your life, your work is hectic.” She ventures. “If you need to come home during this, you say the word.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You lean into her side as easily as you used to do when you were a kid, grateful that this conversation went nothing like you expected. “I’m not sure what I’ll need yet, but I’ll call. I’ll keep you updated with calls and text you sonogram photos and everything.”

“I know I’ve made mistakes with you girls.” Your mom murmurs bashfully. “But I love you and I’m proud of you no matter what.”

“We love you, too.” The quiet surprise on Lily’s face assures you that you can speak for her, too, and she moves across the porch again to wrap her arms around your mother in turn.

“Why don’t we all go inside and decide what we are going to do for dinner?” Your mom asks. “Your dad needs to set up the fireplace and I’ll boil some water for tea.”

******

“No place good will be open,” your father protests the idea of going out, knowing that the options nearby are limited. “I’m not a pro like somebody over here.” He pokes you teasingly. “But you girls have never said no to my bacon cheeseburgers.”

Lily groans slightly, mouth watering at the idea of her dad’s cheeseburgers. “Still have that ground venison?” She asks.

“He’s got more than we can possibly eat.” Your mother looks positively relieved to have some of it eaten by a person other than her. “I can run into town and get some buns, and tortilla chips and salsa to go with it?” She knows Aja likes spice, so her normal potato chips and French onion dip won’t go over as well, but she doesn’t mind going an extra step or two to make all of you happy. “And maybe some root beer?”

“That sounds good to me.” Lily agrees immediately and looks over at you with a grin. “Add some better cheese than Kraft to the list for our chef.” She teases.

You practically pout at Lily, but still mumble, “Sharp cheddar goes well with venison,” against the rim of your mug before taking a sip of tea.

“Sharp cheddar. Right.” Moving over to the counter, she collects her purse and her keys. “Anything else you want?”

“No. Thanks, Mom.” You’re already planning on making a big batch of cookies for everyone tomorrow afternoon, but basic baking ingredients are always in the house. “We appreciate it.”

Opening the door, she makes a noise of surprise. “Are you expecting someone? There’s an SUV coming up the driveway.”

“That’s probably just our driver.” Lily shrugs, looping her arm around her wife on the sofa. “Big honking black car with tinted windows, right? The guy probably went into town to check into his hotel room and came back.”

“It is.” She nods and looks back at the three of you. “Maybe you left something in the car?” She suggests.

“I’ll go check.” You hop up off the couch before anyone can protest and wrap your cardigan around your shoulders to ward off the evening mountain chill. Down the front steps to the sunken driveway at the bottom of the hill your house was built on, you can’t see the car until you reach the gravel path and then it’s all too clear that this is not a simple ‘sweater left behind in the car’ situation.

“Oberyn…”

Watching him climb out of the car feels like you’ve just been punched in the gut, with tears instantly pressing at your eyes. You are going to KILL Aja.

At first he was unsure if the directions were accurate, Aja sending him the address. But seeing you on the porch, looking like you’ve seen a ghost, makes him both nervous and relieved. The call he had gotten days ago from his niece had told him that he needed to come to New York, now. If he loved you, he needed to get his ass on the jet and come. He had landed in Albany an hour and a half ago and been eager to see you immediately. “Iris.” He keeps his eye on you as he starts walking up the path to the door. “I decided to deliver my promise of books for your mother’s book club personally.” He jokes with a warm smile. “The author was busy.”

“Th-that’s…not why you’re…why you’re here.” The words are halting, stumbling over each other and unfamiliar, like you’re not even speaking them. “Aja called you.”

“She did.” Oberyn nods, frowning when you don’t seem at all pleased to see him. It’s not quite the reunion he was expecting after finally figuring out what it was that he wanted. “Was she mistaken?” He asks softly. “Should I leave?”

“No.” Stepping down two more steps, you’re on even footing with him. He looks exactly the same - same dark chocolate hair and plush lips and broad shoulders, but he looks a little…sad? You’re probably imagining that. “No…she called you for a perfectly salient reason. I just—” You’re just going to kill her. “I asked her not to tell you anything. So, I’m a little upset.”

“Tell me anything?” Oberyn shakes his head and looks past you to where Aja is standing in the doorway. “She told me to get my head out of my ass and come tell you how I feel.”

It’s easy to follow his eyes - he’s to bewildered to be subtle - and you turn around to see Aja by the door. “Tell my dad there’s one more person for dinner. You and I will talk later.” You tell her in your patented older sister you fucked up tone before turning back to Oberyn. How he feels? What the hell could that possibly do to affect things? Suddenly every bit of you hurts, like an ache that won’t let go. “Come on.” You shake your head at him. “Leave your stuff in the garage and let’s go for a walk.”

Oberyn helps the driver stack a few boxes of books and he brings his suitcase out. The driver hands him his card and for a moment he wonders if he should have left Dorne. He doesn’t like this feeling of unease he has. You act like he is the last person you wanted to see. When he’s done, he turns back to you and glances around. “It’s colder up here than in the city.” He comments.

“It’s the mountains.” Your impulse to offer to go back in the house doesn’t hold, instead you easily slip out of your overlarge sweater and offer it to him. “We can go inside in a little bit, but…I’d rather have this conversation alone.” Now that you know it’s going to happen - he’s here in front of you, how can you not tell him? - you genuinely don’t know what you want him to say. Perhaps…whatever is meant to happen will happen. With no expectation.

He huffs, shaking his head and looking at you like you offended his mother. “I’m not taking your sweater, Iris.” He tells you, pushing it back in your direction gently. “I mean it, I can go back to Dorne. I had imagined you would be happy to see me.”

“I need to talk to you.” You wrap yourself back in the safety of your favorite sweater and take a step toward the backyard. “I just…I hadn’t made up my mind if I was ready to yet. That’s why I’m upset. It’s not because you’re here, I…” Swallow the pride and stubbornness, woman. “I am happy to see you…I’m just a few other things, too.”

That tone doesn’t seem like it’s especially positive. Oberyn looks out towards the mountains, the easy reunion he had imagine whisked away like a puff of smoke. “I was set to be married once.” He announces, unable to look at you. “An arranged marriage.”

“O—okay…” You go first then, that’s fine. He’s starting to talk and you skip two steps to keep up with him. “That didn’t happen, I take it? You said the royal family doesn’t allow divorces.”

“Obviously not. It couldn’t have happened.” He sighs, hands in his pockets. “She’s a lovely woman. Charming, beautiful, anything a man could want, but there was no way I was going to marry her.” He explains.

“Why not?” Your own posture mirrors his, hands in your jeans as you walk side by side.

“Because she is in love with my brother.” He chuckles, looking over at you for the first time since you started walking. “And he was -is- desperately in love with her.”

“Mellario?” The surprise on your face is obvious, with your eyebrows up at your hairline and pinched together. But you had seen them together several times - his brother and sister-in-law - and no one in the world could deny how crazy they are about each other. “That, um…that explains her remark at the wedding.” And to think…you had wondered if they had a history. Yes. Yes they absolutely do. “About loving siblings doing anything for each other.”

“Yes.” He looks back towards the trail. “I vowed that I would not marry, not her, not anyone until my brother had secured his heir.” He gives a small shrug. “It broke the agreement my grandfather made with hers when we were babes and left them free to be together.”

“But Trystane is a teenager.” Your eyebrows shoot down again, furrowing. “You could have married anytime you wanted.”

He smiles, ironically. “Ellaria is as much a free spirit as I was. Not to be tied down. Especially given that a divorce would never be granted.”

“Was?” Oberyn chooses his words carefully, you learned that over your time with him. Unlike you and your notable history of blurting things out at random.

His smile morphs into one that is more pleased by the fact that you caught his wording. “I came here not only to give your mother the books, but to give you something as well.” From the inside of his jacket pocket, he pulls out an envelope and hands it to you.

“What’s this?” For the last few days you’ve been the one handing surprises to other people, so you weren’t expecting this. He looks at you like It wouldn’t be any fun if I told you, and you roll your eyes. That fond warmth is seeping back into your bones the longer he’s next to you and it’s only going to make this conversation harder.

The envelope is sealed with wax like some kind of ancient decree, and you slip the wax seal away from the base of the envelope with only a small tear. There’s a single piece of paper inside, and your minimal Dornish comprehension isn’t great, but you know the word for restaurant, the listing of square footage, the address in the Old City district of Sunspear, and his name signed at the bottom with a flourish all add up to you being very confused. “What is—” You look up at him from the page curiously. “Did you…buy a restaurant?”

Oberyn smirks, looking down at the paper and then back at you. “I believe you once told me that Lily joked that you should be proposed to with the deed to a restaurant.” He murmurs.

“Oberyn…” Never in a million years could you have dreamt that he would surprise you more than you’re likely to surprise him. “Is—are you—” You feel like you’re about to pass out from the way your heart is beating and all the thoughts swirling around in your head, but you can’t stop staring between him and the paper. Say yes, you moron! your heart screams in spite of your head. “We barely know each other…”

“But we do.” Oberyn insists, reaching for you and taking hold of your arms. “We do know each other. I know the way that the morning light looks kissing your skin and the way that you blink owlishly when you are sleepy, but you don’t want to admit it.” He rubs your arms and licks his lips. “I’ve missed you. In my kitchen, in my bed, in my life. Iris, I have wanted you back since the second you stepped on that plane. You are the flower that I did not know was missing from my life and wish to see you bloom by my side.”

The freight train of emotions slamming into you is too much, and the water brimming behind your eyes spills over just a little, splashing onto his shirt ever so briefly when you sink into his arms. There is nothing about any of this situation that you could have possibly prepared yourself for and yet it has never been more important that you answer a question before in your life. Sniffling back actual tears, you hug Oberyn tight before leaning back to look into his face. “Before I—I will answer you, but you have to—” You shake your head, trying to remember how to form a sentence. “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes widen in delight, and he looks down at your stomach before looking back up at you. He has questions of course; it answers the primary one of what you weren’t ready for him to know. “That’s wonderful.” He rushes out, a wide grin on his face.

“That’s why Aja called you.” God, he really is just endlessly handsome. Especially when he smiles. “I asked her not to say anything…I had barely just found out and it’s terrifying but at the same time I’m starting to get really excited but I swore to myself that I wouldn’t ask you for anything and now you’re here and you’re asking me things and I just—” A great, shuddering, gasping sigh breaks out of you and for the first time in all of this you feel truly, utterly, freely happy. “I—I love you, Oberyn. And I know that that wasn’t part of our arrangement. But I realized it happened really quickly, so I just decided to try to love the memory of that week instead and I…well, it didn’t work. I fell in love with you that week, and I…I was scared. I’m still scared. I’m scared and rambling.” A laugh hiccups its way out of your throat and you can’t stop smiling, seeing the absolute joy on his face.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, pulling you close and crushing the deed to the restaurant between the two of you. “You will become my princess?”

“Are you sure?” Your voice is small, nearly a whisper as you look up at him in concern. “You’ve gone this long without getting married.” The finality of it doesn’t scare you. You always figured that if that mysterious day came when you actually got married, it would be forever. Til death do you part. But he’s lived so freely for so long, the last thing you want is for the person you love to feel trapped by you in any way. You pull back slightly, searching his eyes for a moment. “I want to be with you.” Finally saying that out loud is a weight lifted from your chest. “We don’t have to get married.”

He sighs and bites his lip. “Do you want to be with other people? Bring others into our bed?” He asks.

“No.” You tell him honestly, shaking your head. “But I know that you might sometimes, and I don’t want to keep you from being happy.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “I am happy with you.” He insists. “I have slept with one person since you. Selvin. And to be honest, it was not the same. I was thinking about you and have not fucked anyone since.”

It washes over you like a clean, cold rain, and your smile grows impossibly wider. “Ask me again,” you murmur, honestly just desperately wanting to hear the question from his lips in real life rather than your dreams.

“My love, my Iris, my sun, will you marry me?” From his pocket he pulls out a small red box, letting go of you so he can open it up to reveal the ring he has chosen for you. The deed was symbolic, both of your joke and of his commitment to you. If a restaurant is what your heart desires as a wedding proposal, he would do it, but he was a traditionalist in some senses. Wanting to have his ring on your finger.

“Yes.” Through watery eyes and a blanket of disbelief so thick you could wrap up in it, you surge forward to kiss him - finding that the most important thing you could possibly do in this moment. “Yes.”

His lips on yours was what he had been missing. Clutching you to him, the ring is forgotten while he takes over the kiss. Licking into your mouth with a moan when you open for him. Nothing outside of you and your embrace exists, just like it had been with you for that entire week. How he hopes for it to always be with you.

The sensation of time standing still has been lost since you left Dorne - but it turns out that it has much less to do with the country than it does with the man currently bundling you against him. Nothing can possibly be wrong when this is so wonderfully right. “Today has not been anything like I thought,” you admit, shrugging sheepishly when the two of you break apart for air.

“Is that a good thing or a bad one?” He asks, smirking at the fact that the deed is still in your hand but completely forgotten. His own elation of you accepting his proposal has him feeling a bit disoriented as well.

“We came up here to tell my parents.” You barely have to lean forward to kiss him again, keeping it short but reveling in the spark of having him close again. “I was expecting a lecture and maybe a dusting of I told you so. Instead, I got two fully supportive parents…and you.”

“Yes.” Oberyn nods, taking out the ring and reaching for your hand so that he can slide it on. To make sure he had not messed up your measurement. “As it should be. Although I’m surprised your mother did not come for my head.”

“She started therapy. My dad got her to agree to it. Seems like it’s been going really well.” The ring slips on to your finger perfectly, with both of you staring down at the beautiful pearl center of the diamond starburst ring. “It’s beautiful…” You breathe the words out like a sigh before looking back up at him. “I have a necklace I can wear it on while I’m working. To keep it safe.” A gift like this is far too precious to be knocked around a restaurant kitchen, but you’ll also be damned if you ever aren’t wearing it somehow.

His hand squeezes yours and he bends down to kiss your knuckle over the ring before he lets go to slide his hand over your belly. “My ninth little sand snake.” He coos, rubbing your stomach. “Have you been good for your momma?”

“So far, so good.” Hearing him talk to the baby - the man should probably have a Ph.D. in talking to babies at this point - makes you sniffle again, and you put your hand softly over his. “I haven’t known for very long. Just two weeks. But, um…I had a doctor’s appointment this morning. Everything looks good and I started my prenatal care. And…I-I have a sonogram picture if you want to see. I mean I know you’ve seen plenty of them before so it’s not a brand-new phenomenon or anything but—” You clamp your mouth shut when you realize you’re rambling again. “Let’s go back to the house?”

He chuckles, cupping your cheek and nudging his nose against yours before he kisses you softly. “Of course I want to see our baby.” He promises you. “You have nothing to worry about. I understand what’s going on and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Sliding your hand into his is comforting and easy, and you lead him back to the house with a soft tug. “How long can you stay?” It occurs to you that you suddenly have a hell of a lot to do, and don’t really know where to begin. So, you’ll begin with him. “We just got here a couple of hours ago and had planned on staying a few days before heading back to the City.”

“Until you send me away or I have you on the plane with me to go back to Dorne.” Oberyn tells you. “It’s why I did not show up while you were still in the city, I was clearing my schedule. I am at your service.” He promises with a grin. His exact words to Doran were ‘I’ll be back when my Iris is back.’.

“I’m not going to send you away.” You didn’t actually wander too far from the house - just out to the stream along the tree line - and you’re back at the garage in no time. “I promised Chef that I would help a little extra at the restaurant for a few weeks. His sister is sick and she’s moving in with him and his wife so she can be looked after. I can’t go back on that promise, especially if I’m going to be leaving. Do you have that much time to spare? Two or three weeks?”

“There is internet in your apartment, right?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. “I can work from there if I need to. Or visit the Embassy.”

“And you can come to the restaurant while I’m at work if you want.” It wouldn’t be the first time that someone in the kitchen had a friend or family member hang out to use the WiFi and it definitely won’t be the last. “I guess…I can tell my landlord I’ll be gone at the end of the month, too. Since…” You look up at him quizzically. “Since I don’t want you to displace your girls’ memories, so I guess I’m moving into your suite in the palace?”

“If you want, or we could choose another suite, or renovate it together.” He offers, knowing you might have some issues with living where he had lived with Ellaria and had countless lovers. It was one thing to be his guest, a temporary lover, it was another to be his wife.

“Maybe we can think about renovations, but that’s your home.” Squeezing his hand in yours makes the weight of the ring very apparent on your finger and you smile. “That’s where we made our first memories together, too. Besides, your kitchen is to die for.”

He grins. “You’re just marrying me for my kitchen, aren’t you?”

“I’m marrying you because I love you.” Words you absolutely never thought you would say, but here they are dripping from your tongue with glee. “Your kitchen is a beautiful bonus.”

“Would you have told me?” He asks, making sure that your hand is firmly in his as you walk back towards the house. “If I had not come. Would you have used the phone number I programmed into your phone while you were sleeping?”

“Yes.” You can breathe now, and admit it to yourself that you had wanted to tell him all along. It was fear that stopped you. “Because of something Lily said.”

“What did she say?” He’s curious to know what could possibly change your mind. He’s seen firsthand how stubborn you can be and he admires it in a sense.

“That if it turned out to be a boy, then I would be keeping you from your only son.” Your eyes flick up to his carefully, and you know he can see the guilt there. For not calling him right away. For even considering keeping it from him at all. “I’ve been thinking about it for days. The baby’s gender doesn’t matter. They’re your child and you should be able to know them. I just…hadn’t built up the courage to call yet.”

“I understand.” Oberyn does, he’s had a couple of the women he had children with hesitate in telling him for different reasons. “I am happy you told me.” He smiles. “Don’t be too angry at Aja, she just told me that I needed to come and tell you that I was a, and I quote, ‘a pathetically mopey mess without you’. End quote.”

How could you possibly stay mad when she was ultimately completely right? She knew what you needed - what he needed - and she acted accordingly to make sure you both got it. You might be a bit annoyed that this conversation was thrust on you, but how can you possibly be mad with how it turned out? “She said you’re writing again?”

He rolls his eyes but nods. “Painful stuff.” He muses.

“Painful like…pathetically mopey painful?” You ask, not bothering to mask the tease or the hope in your voice as you start to tote his things up the stairs together. “She seemed to be sure it was a sign you were pining for me.”

“The only reason you are allowed to carry that is because it’s light.” He warns you. “And she’s completely right. I was pining. Considered beating your flight back to New York.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t come to the restaurant.” You tease him gently, knowing you’ll be working much harder at your job than he might like. But you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek at the front porch of the house. “I have to be honest, love. I cried the whole flight home. The flight attendants must have thought I was at a funeral except that I saw some of them looking at a tabloid that definitely had a photo of us in it.”

“Ah yes, I saw all of them. I am sure they plied you with drinks and apologies, thinking I had broken your heart.” He gives a small chuckle. “If they only knew I was just as miserable.”

“Drinks that I apparently should not have accepted.” The amount of times you checked with your doctor about your alcohol intake in your baby’s first few weeks of life had actually made the generally kind middle-aged woman groan, promising you repeatedly that everything was perfectly fine. At the front door to the house, you stop and offer him a smile. “Ready?”

Oberyn smiles at you, his hand in yours and he nods towards the door teasingly. “Am I going to be met with a shotgun for a famous shotgun wedding for ruining their daughter?” He jokes.

“There’s no shotgun for the man who already proposed.” Gently patting the pocket of your cardigan where the deed to the restaurant - you absolutely can’t believe he did that - sits, you push the door open and let him in first. Those boxes definitely look heavy, and he’s got two of them in his arms.

Lily immediately pokes her head out from the kitchen where she was helping your dad patty out burgers and she grins. “I knew there would be another for dinner. Hope you like venison burgers, Oberyn.” She calls out with a wink.

“Did Mom leave?” You set Oberyn’s suitcase by the stairs. It can be brought up to your room later and he can tease you about all your girly things from growing up, then. “We were in the backyard. Didn’t see if the car left.”

“Yeah, she’s gone.” Lily rolls her eyes. “Almost didn’t leave, just in case. But I reminded her that we are out of Cheez-Its. And that made her sling rocks in the driveway.” She giggles.

Oberyn looks confused and you smile as he sets the boxes by the front door. “My first craving,” you explain.

“Oh, I see.” He chuckles and reaches over to rest his hand on your stomach. “We will have to make sure we keep them stocked for you then. Until you start craving something else.”

“Aja says fruit is next.” Your sister-in-law is nowhere in sight, but you have a feeling she’s not far away. Probably hiding just out of sight at the kitchen counter. “Isn’t that right, Aj?”

Her head pops out immediately, as if she had just been waiting for this. “Oh, are you speaking to me again?” She asks with a very pleased grin on her face. “I could have sworn I was in trouble with you.”

“I’m annoyed that you skirted around my asking you not to say anything, but I can’t be mad at you for doing the right thing.” Pacing across the room, you easily throw your arms around her and give her a quick but intense hug. “Thank you.”

She pulls away after the hug was over. “You were being an idiot. And so was my uncle…. auntie.” She giggles. “Slash sister-in-law.”

“Auntie??” Lily’s head pops up from the counter again so fast it looks like she should get whiplash and your father’s eyes open wide.

“If my eyes aren’t mistake, your sister is wearing some jewelry she wasn’t before.” Aja tells her wife with a very smug tone. “Specifically on the left hand.”

When Lily nearly jumps away from the counter you step back and point one solid finger at her. “No raw venison on the pregnant lady or my brand-new engagement ring. Wash your hands and then you can screech and hug us all you want.”

Oberyn chuckles at your orders and how quickly Lily rushes to obey your order. Moving over to Aja and giving her a hug. “Thanks brat.” He murmurs, kissing her head.

“Did you do the other thing?” Aja whispers, not wanting to ruin an extra surprise or peak anyone’s interest if it wasn’t happening.

Nodding, he looks over where Lily is practically smothering your in a hug. “She has the deed.” He confirms with a grin. “Still don’t have a clue what she actually thinks about that though.”

“She probably doesn’t think it’s real.” Aja chuckles, hugging her uncle tightly. “That sounds like a good pillow talk conversation for later. Once her mom gets back I guarantee it’s going to be wedding planning all over again.” She remembers announcing her and Lily’s engagement very clearly, and how Lily’s mother had had a host of very specific ideas that had to be tactfully shot down or adapted to fit a royal Dornish wedding.

He snorts and shakes his head. “We will have to see if she wants to do it before the baby or after.” He wouldn’t care about when you get married, but he can understand that you might. As long as you walk down an aisle towards him, he would do it tomorrow for all it mattered.

“All the menu will be full of her cravings.” She laughs, nudging him toward where you are being smothered by your sister and tearful father. “I’m glad we won’t have to break up the sisters after all.”

“Yes.” He smiles at you as your hug ends with your father and holds his hand out to the man to shake. “I am sorry for showing up unannounced.” He offers. He won’t apologize for the baby in your belly or for asking you to marry him without your father’s approval.

Your father is generally as stubborn as any other member of this family, but he will cave on nearly anything that makes his girls happy - and right now you are beaming. “Family is always welcome.” He tells the man that he has had plenty of doubts about before. But he showed up here today and did right by you. That’s enough.

******

Sunspear is not a small city. There is congestion and traffic and all of the perks and headaches that comes with city living. It’s bustling and thriving. But Oberyn honestly believes that nothing will ever match the energy of New York City.

It’s been two weeks since you have come back from your parents. Two weeks of living in your small – tiny – apartment and going through what you want to bring to Dorne. Oberyn is often with you, either at the restaurant where you are finishing up your obligation, or walking the streets with you and getting a firsthand view of the real city. Beyond the tourist spots, much like he had done for you in Dorne. Tonight, however, it’s his turn to take you out. To show you the Dornish restaurant he had told you about so early in your trip. “Here we are.” He grins as he sees flag on the awning. “Best Dornish food to be found outside the country.”

“Can I tell you something very sappy?” You lean into his side as you walk down the street, having decided that a long walk was preferable to the subway just this one time.

“What is that?” He tightens his arm around you. It’s still brisk enough for a jacket, especially since he is used to much warmer climates, but he has enjoyed this time with you. Dressed casually in jeans and a Henley that you swore makes him look sexy.

“I spent the first couple of weeks after coming home from Dorne almost getting food from here nearly every day before swearing off it.” It had hurt your heart to do absolutely anything that reminded you of him, but thank god that hurt was over. “It just made me miss you.”

“Do you know how many times I turned down making limoncello mousse?” He turns and kisses your head. “But I am happy that I am getting to show you the food.”

“We’re just great big saps for each other.” You slip your hand around his waist before he pulls the door of the restaurant open and step inside with him easily. Things have been going well. Very well, honestly. Oberyn fits into the rhythm of your life well and you hope you’ll be able to fit into his just as easily when you arrive in Dorne next week. He’s been by your side, supportive and loving and doting on you and the baby at every step. All you want is to be able to give him the same.

It’s very clear that the woman behind the hostess stand recognizes Oberyn, from the way her eyes widen to her choked gasp. Ignoring that, he gives her a charming smile. “I was hoping that you could seat us for dinner?” He asks hopefully. The restaurant is busy, which he will take as a great sign for the immigrant family from his home country.

“Uh—of…of course!” She is flustered, not sure if she should curtsy or bow or try not to show that she recognizes him at all, but she plucks two menus out of the hostess stand and beckons for you to follow her. There seems to be only one empty table in the whole place but it is a big, rounded booth in a corner by the windows that ensures you will have minimal interruptions and be able to enjoy both the ambience of the restaurant and the bustle of the city just outside. If tabloids knew him here, you would be swamped at this table, but fortunately for your quiet dinner plans that isn’t the case. It’s not until you get back to Dorne that you’ll be sought after by cameras again.

“Thank you.” Oberyn smiles at the flustered girl, nodding his head politely.

“I—you’re welcome. Your server will be right with you.” She ends up doing a small curtsy and dashing away, no doubt to let everyone in the back know that the Prince of Dorne was sitting at one of their tables.

“You just gave her the best story she’ll tell all year.” You grin at him, sliding into the booth first at his insistence. “The prince of Dorne in her restaurant. And she spoke to you.” Hell, if you were her, you would be telling that story for the rest of your life.

“Then I guess I better tip well.” He’s jokes, hand finding your thigh under the table to caress it easily enough after he follows you into the booth. “I would hate that she would tell me to be a miser.”

“You’re as generous as you are handsome.” It isn’t even really flattery since it’s the truth, but you lean in to press a kiss to his lips gently before your whole body goes tense against him at the sound of a woman’s voice coming from the front door.

“What do you mean we have to wait? We have a reservation! You know? A guaranteed table?” The shrill voice is met with profuse apologies from the hostess, much lower in volume.

Oberyn frowns at the unnecessary hostility and looks over at you. “What is it?” He asks, not liking the slightly nauseous look on your face. “Something not agreeing with the baby?”

“Baby’s fine.” That’s always first priority over anything, but you swallow the bile threatening to build up. “I—I just…um…” Of all the fucking gin joints… “That’s Whitney’s voice.”

Oberyn’s expression is one of delight and mischief as he squeezes your thigh. The argument at the entrance is continuing on and he pats your leg before he speaks again. “Perhaps I should go offer a solution since we are the cause for the ruckus.” He murmurs before sliding out of the booth.

“No— I— Oberyn— Oberyn!” You hiss his name to try to get him to come back but he’s already gone, striding back up to the hostess stand with confidence and pure mischief in his eyes while you have your head buried in your hands at the table. A server brings two water glasses, and you thank the young man, telling him your companion will probably want wine but you have no idea what, so it might be best to come back in a few moments.

“Ma’am, I do apologize.” The hostess that seated you and Oberyn just a moment ago looks tired and a bit exasperated. “It is a very busy night, but a table should open up very soon.” It’s nearly ten minutes before the reservation time this woman gave her and she could point that out, but she’s dealt with plenty of people like this before. That never ends well.

“That’s not even remotely what a reservation is supposed be - ugh, you know what? Just get me the manager. Obviously, you messed up.” Whitney tells her.

Oberyn comes and stands beside the hostess, touching her shoulder in reassurance. “I’m afraid this mishap is my fault.” He explains. “I apologize.”

“Are you the idiot who doesn’t know how reservations work?” Petite and full of fire, the woman standing a full two feet in front of her timid-looking husband in the doorway levels her eyes at this casually-dressed new arrival with disdain. The hostess tries to speak but she holds up her hand to silence the girl. “It’s our anniversary. We reserved a table. That means we get a table. You’re already going to get a hell of a negative Yelp! review for this.”

“Of course.” Oberyn’s smile is sharp, looking over at the hostess who’s eyes are large and wary. Being raised in Dorne and still staying current in gossip and events makes her well aware of how volatile the prince can be. “Since we apparently took your table - my apologies again, I wished to celebrate with my fiancée tonight - why don’t you join us and I will pay for your meal?”

“Your hi—” She catches herself when Oberyn shakes his head, looking towards her with a gentle smile. “It’s okay. You had no idea I was coming in.”

“I’ll inform the kitchen you are a party of four now.” She nods hesitantly, but she’s going to disobey her prince of all people. “The chef — my father — was hoping you might allow him to prepare a specialty of his for your appetizer?”

“I would be delighted to experience whatever he wishes to make. I am sure that it will be delicious.” He smiles and nods towards the couple. “Also have a bottle of champagne and a bottle of sparkling water brought to the table to celebrate?”

“Yes, your—” She stops herself again and just nods. “Of course.”

Whitney huffs and shuffles impatiently so Oberyn turns to her. “My fiancée is sitting at the booth but is large enough for both couples.” He tells them before he turns to guide them back to where you are seated.

“Oberyn, please don’t tell me you—” The light of fond exasperation in your eyes when he reappears extinguishes almost instantly when you see who is walking beside him. “Whitney.” Saying her name makes you feel a little sick, but that still leaves you in better shape than the slumped man in the gray trousers and light sweater behind her. “Not a whiff of each other for years and this is what…twice in eight months?”

“This is your fiancée?” Whitney’s eyes widen as Oberyn slides into the booth beside you, his arm going around your body and immediately kisses your cheek.

“You deserve a little revenge.” He murmurs in your ear quietly. Kissing you again he turns to the couple. “Please, sit.”

“I don’t think we’ve met?” Whitney’s husband tries to straighten a little, smoothing his sweater and offering his other hand to Oberyn to shake while his wife situates herself, then shaking yours as well. “I’m Andrew.”

“No, we never met.” You hate the way your hand seems to revolt at shaking his and keep it very short. “I’m the woman your wife was living with before you got married.”

“Oh!” Andrew chuckles nervously. “You were her roommate back then? Wow, what a wild coincidence, huh?”

Oberyn chuckles. “Roommates. Very discreet word for lovers.” He comments as he picks up his glass of water to take a sip. “I will have to use it to describe Ellaria, see how long it takes her to throw a knife at my head for the insult.” He murmurs quietly to you.

“I’m sorry?” Andrew clearly didn’t understand the remark and you clear your throat.

“So, Whit. Why the temper tantrum over a ten-minute wait?” You could hear her screeching but not all of what was being said, hence your surprise at seeing them appear side by side coming toward the table.

Whitney grits her teeth, narrowing her eyes at you since your fiancé apparently knows about the two of you. “It’s our anniversary.” She tosses out with a smug smile, holding out her hand to show an impressive looking ring. “Six happy years.”

“I’m well aware of how long you’ve been married.” The chance to explain why is cut off by the reappearance of the young waiter with a bottle of sparkling water and another of champagne. He sets down four flutes and hands the bottle to Oberyn to inspect, looking nervous at the interaction.

Oberyn approves the bottle with a nod but takes the sparkling water and opens it himself to pour into the two flutes for you and him while the nervous waiter nearly tipples the bottle over in his haste to pour for the other couple.

“Thank you.” It seems like a small mercy to dismiss the young man, and anyway, Whitney still has her hand out on the table like she’s waiting for some fucking applause or something. It’s a very conventional set - a large pear-cut diamond halo setting engagement ring and a pavé wedding band to complement. The research of a spurned lover - which you definitely had been - told you Andrew’s job title was project manager, whatever vague bullshit that meant. Apparently, he was doing okay for himself and his family

Oberyn nudges the glass into your hand, urging you to take it as he glances at the ring. “It’s remarkable how they cut cubic zirconia to look real, isn’t it?” He holds his glass up. “Shall we have a toast?”

Whitney’s gasp sounds like she just had all the breath violently pushed out of her and you can’t help but snicker as your fingers curl around the stem of your glass. Your own ring is stunning - the center pearl and starburst of small diamonds making it unique and eye-catching - but you would marry Oberyn with a ruined piece of string in the middle of the Department of Sanitation. It’s a symbol, not the reason to be engaged. “Don’t be rude, love.” You chide, though you’re not sure you mean it.

“I meant no offense.” He gives a very believable performance of his protest. “It’s a solid, safe choice. If they divorce or she’s mugged, he’s not out thousands of dollars.”

“How dare you!” Whitney’s face is starting to morph to a shade of angry pink and you have to pinch your own arm discreetly to keep from laughing. “My husband is an extremely successful businessman and would never stoop so low as to buy me fake jewelry!”

The extremely successful businessman in question looks like he wishes he could sink into the ground and disappear.

“I assumed it was something you knew.” Oberyn tells her. “However, after a lifetime of dealing with diamond gifts, I am well capable of spotting a CZ. I have too many daughters not to know the difference.”

“And who are you that you have such a lifetime of giving out diamonds?” She demands, starting to go from pink to red. Any second now she’s going to start spitting fire, you’ve seen her do it before. Good lord, what did you ever see in this woman? Was she always this bad?

“You are right.” Oberyn looks over at you, happy to see less distress and more disgust on your face concerning your previous paramour. “I didn’t introduce myself. Please forgive me.” He gives you tiny wink before he turns back to her and gives her a highborn look, one cultivated from moving in the upper echelons of society for his entire life. “I am Oberyn Martell. Prince of Dorne.”

Whitney scoffs, a huffed snort of disbelief mixed into the sound, and raises her eyebrow at you. “What is he really?” She insists. “An actor? An escort?”

“No.” You hum a little, pulling out your phone to quickly Google one of the Dornish tabloids that had followed you around Sunspear during your week with him. “But he fucks like one.” The slight glance you give Oberyn is full of that same mischief of his that has clearly rubbed off on you, and you turn your phone around in your hand to show her the cover of The Dornish Sun, an English-language gossip rag that circulates around the island nation. American Invasion! reads the headline plastered over the picture of you and Oberyn dancing together in one of the many clubs you went to that week. There is an inset photo of Lily and Aja from their wedding day, as well. “Lily married his niece two months ago. We met the day before the wedding.”

Whitney stares at the pictures, mouth open like a fish out of water, and then glances back at the prince, blanching slightly as she realizes who she has been rude to. “So you are engaged after meeting two months ago?” Her smug facade deflates slightly, making her seem to wilt around the edges.

“He’s everything I ever wanted.” The adoration in your voice is obvious as you look back at the man you’re going to marry, and a wide, true smile splits your face. “And more.”

“And my Iris is the only woman to make me want to marry her. Divorce is not possible in the royal family. Especially since I am third from the throne.” Oberyn tosses out casually.

“You’re—?” That puffed up ego of hers is deflating like a cheap balloon and your ex is starting to look genuinely panicked.

“Lily’s wife is second,” you supply helpfully, more and more amused by how she and your sister never got along.

“Succession is such a funny thing.” He muses. “While I have other children, my love carries my heir as we speak.”

“Oh.” Whitney nods as if she only now understands and all but rolls her eyes at her husband despite talking to you. “Shotgun wedding. Clever, to make sure it was this guy that knocked you up.”

Oberyn can’t help but laugh. “I have eight daughters by four women.” He tells her dismissively. “Even if she had tried that age old trick, she knew I was the wrong one to play it on. However, she was not even going to tell me.” His face drops into a more vicious setting and he leans close, “I would not let that viper’s tongue loose again, for fear you lose it.”

“Love…” Setting your hand gently on his arm, you shake your head at him. Over the last few weeks he had laid his heart and soul bare to you, including telling you stories of his ruthless youth. You know the man you’re going to marry had a violent streak and a penchant for justice and revenge - still perfectly visible in moments like this. But this isn’t the time or the place to go further. “Diplomatic immunity aside, you wouldn’t be doing the family that owns this restaurant any favours if the Red Viper made an appearance tonight,” you remind him quietly.

“You are right.” He relaxes slightly under your touch and leans in to kiss you softly. “I would hate for them to have bad Yelp reviews.”

Andrew, mostly forgotten throughout this entire exchange, coughs slightly, covering his mouth with his hand. Oberyn thought he saw a whisp of a grin on the hen-pecked man’s face.

“Ahh, the appetizers.” Oberyn notices the waiter hustling towards them with a large tray. “Barbed words work up an appetite, don’t they?” He asks, throwing you a wink.

“You’re not going to defend me?” Whitney looks at her husband with undisguised exasperation and near disgust. “Of course you’re not. He threatened me, and my ex-girlfriend has to defend me because my husband isn’t man enough to open his damn mouth.” She is ranting just barely loud enough for the waiter to hear and pause in his steps, and the look of absolute shock on Andrew’s face says he did not know his wife liked women.

Oberyn snorts, shaking his head and turning to look at you with a raised brow. “Please tell me that she tastes better than she acts?” He begs you, unable to see what you had seen in this woman to make you pine for so long. “Treat a man like a man and he will defend you. Treat a man like your lap dog and he will tuck his tail.” He muses as he looks back over at her.

“She didn’t used to be this bad.” Is your murmured (and admittedly sheepish) answer, but Andrew’s palm hits the table a second later and makes all of you jump.

“I didn’t know you…you dated women. What else don’t I know about you?” He asks, his wounded expression trained on Whitney.

Oberyn lifts a brow at the other man’s shocked tone. Whitney’s face pales and she shakes her head. “Nothing. It was just— just experimentation.”

“It was a year.” You lower your voice so people won’t state, but under absolutely no circumstances are you going to let the relationship that shaped your entire adult life be played off as inconsequential. “I’m—” You breathe a shaky sigh and thread your fingers through Oberyn’s for support. “Whitney was cheating on me with you.” Is the way you phrase it to the man that she had married, actually making it sounds much less dramatic than it was. “I don’t know how long.”

Oberyn snorts and shakes his head, “She used you. Don’t mince words or make it sound prettier than it was. She lived in your house, slept in your bed, had sex with you - all while she was seeing this man behind your back. While you were planning a life together.”

“Whit?” Andrew’s eyebrows pinch together, the worry on his face starting to build as his wife - your ex - sputters under the heavy weight of the truth. “How. Long?”

“What does it matter?” She spits, angry to have this come out and make her seem like the bad guy. “She’s just bitter that I didn’t stay with her. She’s overly dramatic and that doesn’t need to affect us, baby.” She turns her eyes on Andrew and tries to give him a pleading look.

“I was bitter.” Though thankfully that is behind you now, with every ounce of credit for that change to the man beside you.

Oberyn and Andrew have Whitney boxed into the booth so she can’t just storm out like she so clearly wants to, and from the way he looks like he’s about to start pleading for an explanation, you actually feel a little bad for this random man. It seems like she must have been playing him, too, and that doesn’t surprise you at all. “I came home from work one day—” The second you start your sentence Whitney is trying to drown you out, calling you a liar and a bitch as quietly and forcefully as possible, but you’re only talking to Andrew. “And she was packing. Told me she was getting married at the end of the week and that I had been practice for her. She said one day I would make a great meal ticket for somebody who actually loves me.” You shake your head a little at the man. “Look, I’m sorry, I don’t know you. But you should know who you married.”

Andrew looks properly horrified at that, shaking his head and nearly chokes out a sob. “Fuck.” He manages. “No - I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He turns to look at Whitney who has stopped talking and just sits there like a mutinously little toddler who’s not gotten their way. “And apparently I didn’t know you. At all.” He spits. “There’s also the fact that you signed our prenup before you left her, Whitney.”

“I was never really with her.” She objects, as though just saying it would make it true. But there is pleading in her voice. “Baby, I wanted to make sure I could be a good wife to you, that’s all! Plenty of people have roommates before they get married.”

“Roommate?” You scoff, the old rip in your heart aching, though the wound has finally healed. “We had sex the morning of the day you left. Does that affect your prenup, Andrew?”

“It damn sure does.” Andrew’s voice is hard, surprising Oberyn and he swears he just saw the man take his balls out of his wife’s purse. “The prenup she signed swore that she was faithful from the time I proposed.” He smirks slightly. “My mother was right to suggest a cubic zirconia.”

“She’s a liar, Andy!” Whitney is practically crawling into his lap, or at least trying to despite him recoiling. “Why would you listen to her and not to your wife?”

“Why would she lie, Whit?” Is Andrew’s comeback. “She’s pregnant with a fucking prince’s baby! Going to be a princess. She doesn’t give a shit about your pathetic - all for show - life. How you parade the kids around like they are your little accessories and ignore them at home. Or the fucking way you refuse to either get a job or take care of the house like you are on Real Housewives or some shit.” He blocks her attempt to touch him again and grabs her wrists. “We’re done. The house is mine, you will move out, the girls and I are staying.”

“It was nice to meet you.” Is what comes out of your shocked mouth as you vaguely wave goodbye to Andrew’s retreating form. What the hell else can you say? You just witnessed the implosion of Whitney’s lies and her marriage all at once - right now all you have the brainpower for is clutching Oberyn’s hand while Whitney fails to scramble to her feet to run after her soon-to-be ex-husband. “Ya know, Whit…” Despite yourself, an ironic smirk pulls at your lips that you have to tamp down. “I’m giving up my lease at the end of the week to move to Dorne…you could always move back into the old apartment.”

“Bitch.” She hisses angrily before she is chasing after Andrew, desperate to salvage her marriage.

Oberyn leans back and chuckles. “At least the last thing she will be thinking about tonight is reviewing the restaurant.” He jokes before he looks over at you. “Are you okay, Iris? I know I shouldn’t have, but it turned out to be vastly entertaining. I think we saved that poor man’s life.”

“Hug, please?” To admit that you’re shaken is a massive understatement. The plentiful tray of appetizers sits at the edge of the table where the waiter has left it while trying to get out of the line of fire and people are definitely staring, and right now all you actually want is the comfort of Oberyn’s arms around you.

That is something he is completely willing to do, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him. “If you had stayed with her, you would have been as worn down as that poor bastard.”

“And I definitely wasn’t smart enough to be looking at cubic zirconia rings.” Buried against his chest, a few overwhelmed tears of genuine relief fall before you can brush them away. “Jesus Christ…and it’s their anniversary.”

“Karma took a big wet bite out of her ass.” Oberyn says before he chuckles again. “That means on the anniversary of the day she left you…hmmm—” He smirks. “That was the day I laid you out on the island in your apartment and feasted on you for hours.”

“I think I remember that.” You tease, leaning back to smile at him. “The neighbors will be happy when we go. We got two noise complaints from that.”

“Yes, they will.” He winks at you and leans in to kiss you again. “Now that we’ve successfully put your ex in her place, why don’t we eat?”

All you have to do is nod ‘yes’ to food and he is pulling the platter closer and filling your plate with delicious looking morsels. “We only have four more days in New York.” You murmur, picking up your glass and taking a sip of the crisp sparkling water. “Is there anything else you want to make sure we do before we leave?”

There is a moment where he sees you push aside what happened and relax, unfurling in the happy knowledge that in four days you will be on the jet back to Dorne. “Honestly, just anything you want to do. Little places you will miss.” He tells you indulgently. “The men will be here to take all your belongings you want to bring in two days. Get everything stored on board before we leave.”

A large part of this is the fact that if you don’t force yourself to think about something else, you’re afraid the grasping, aching sadness of being hurt by Whitney will flood you, and you don’t want that. Not now. Not when things are changing for the better every day. “Maybe we can spend our last days being tourists? I’ve already taken you to all my favourite places except museums, and by the last day the charity will have come for all the stuff we’re not taking with us so I can’t even suggest we stay in bed. There won’t be a bed.”

“Why don’t we get a hotel?” He suggests, wanting you to smile. “There has to be one hotel in this city you have wanted to stay in?” It would feed the fantasy of being tourists and keep you from wanting to ‘camp’ in your empty apartment.

“Sure,” you snort a little, shaking your head as you apply yourself to the first course of your dinner. “Everybody wishes they are fancy enough to stay at the Waldorf Astoria or the Plaza just once. But that’s so out of the realm of possibility that I don’t even know what a room would cost. Those places are for the ultra-rich. Celebrities and stuff. I’m sure there’s a thousand little hotels all over the city to pick from.”

He hums, charmed by the notion that you still have not realized that you would be considered among those now. While Dorne is a small nation, they were still wealthy, their economy one that seemingly thrived in various industries. “Waldorf or Plaza?” He asks. “Or we can split the time between both if you want.”

“Oh, we’ll obviously let’s split the difference.” If he’s going to tease you, you can tease him back, and you poke him playfully with your elbow. “And let’s have dinner as Per Se while we’re at it.” Even the mere suggestion makes you laugh, giggling at the insane luxury that you can’t even process. Even having spent time in his family’s palace, the disconnect is just too wild to process. “Seriously, love. We can grab a couple of nights at a DoubleTree and it won’t make a difference at all. Just as long as you’re there with me.”

"Pfft." Oberyn shakes his head. "No." He looks towards you and smiles, lucky that you are not demanding luxury. "I want to see you experience them firsthand. And I'll call Per Se and get a table for tomorrow night? How does that sound?"

“If you can actually get a reservation at Per Se on twenty-four hours’ notice, I’ll…” It takes a second to find a hyperbole big enough, considering getting a table at the legendary Michelin-starred restaurant normally requires a month minimum of advance planning. “I’ll suck your cock every day for a year and never ask anything in return.”

The dark gleam has nothing to do with your promise, he knows that the two of you will find yourself tangled together, but he nods. “Deal.” He winks at you and pulls out his phone. “Should I call now? Or wait until we get back to your apartment?”

“Call later.” You huff but can’t help laughing. It won’t make a difference when the call happens, and you both know you’ll happily give him head every day with no other incentive but his pleasure. “For now, eat with me, and let’s talk about the wedding?” Conversation about that particular event at your parents’ house had been less than productive and you haven’t really talked about it since, but you remember the small amount of planning you helped Lily and Aja with - and even that much had been overwhelming at times.

“What we have is completely up to you.” While royal weddings being small affairs were rare, he would fight for it if that’s what you wanted. “It’s our day, no one else’s.”

“Doran will eat us alive if we don’t do something respectable and at least vaguely traditional.” The video call you’d shared with his older brother after you got back to the city had made that abundantly clear. The rumour of Oberyn settling down has had the local press in an uproar. “Besides, the only Dornish wedding I’ve ever been to was beautiful.”

“Then we shall have a traditional Dornish wedding.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it. “Do you want to wait until after our child is born or do it before that date?”

“I don’t really know how the legality of succession works.” You admit, picking at a particularly beautiful croqueta with your fork nervously. “Would it make any difference to the baby? In terms of…status?” You really desperately need to do some reading on the historical and legal end of things.

He nods, “There is a way to make the babe legitimate after their birth, but it is a process.” He acknowledges. “Don’t worry about that. I just want you to be comfortable when we marry.”

“Why don’t we just do it before, then?” It doesn’t have the same feeling as a shotgun wedding at all, but you know Lils will tease you a little about rushing - but only a little. “I don’t mind being pregnant at our wedding.” That thought actually makes you smirk, and you laugh again. “For all we know, I was already twelve hours pregnant at the last one.”

He can’t help but laugh at that. “True.” He smirks and leans in to kiss your lips. “And you’re going to sit on my cock again during this wedding reception too.”

“You’re incorrigible.” It’s barely a scold as you kiss him back, and you can feel a little swirl of lust burst to life in your core. “And I love you.”

“I love you too.” Oberyn promises, taking the offered kiss and then another. He had never anticipated this when he had first spotted you gawking in embarrassment by the pool, but he has you, another baby on the way and a lifetime of love for the Dornish prince ahead of him.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #modern!Oberyn #Game of Thrones fanfic #GoT fic #Game of Thrones #modern au #slight twist on the wedding date trope #i love one (1) bisexual chaos prince

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blessednereid · 3 years

Text

Pity the Living

Daniel Sharman x Reader Series

A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.

Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.

CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Career Day

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.

You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.

Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.

Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.

"An actor."

"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"

"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."

"Why an actor?"

"Dunno. Just seems right."

You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."

"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."

"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."

"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.

"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."

"I DO NOT!"

"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sharman."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

L/N Residence

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.

"Did you think about it?"

Still floating, you asked, "About what?"

"Acting."

You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.

You coughed. "You had it."

"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"

"Who's red carpet?"

"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."

"Why is that?" you asked.

"Because we're best friends."

"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"

"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"

"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.

"But that's impossible?"

"Why do you say that?"

You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."

He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.

"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."

You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"

He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"

You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.

He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Announcement

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.

"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.

You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.

"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."

You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"

"Daniel, are you insane?"

He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."

You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."

"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"

"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."

You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"

"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."

"What do I get just for auditioning?"

"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."

"Fine."

"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."

"You're kidding?"

He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."

"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'

He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Auditions

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.

"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.

You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.

"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"

You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."

"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.

You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.

"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.

"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.

You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"

The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.

You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.

"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."

You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."

"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."

"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."

"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.

"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"

He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."

"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.

"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.

"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Headmasters Office

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.

When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"

Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.

"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."

A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"

"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"

"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.

"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.

The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."

You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.

"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"

"Uh, yes, please."

After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!

You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.

You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"

You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

First Rehearsal

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.

The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.

"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"

James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."

More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.

The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.

You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.

By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Talk

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."

"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.

"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."

Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."

"But- What about Uni?"

"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"

"Yes, so I could intern in London!"

"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.

"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"

Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"

"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"

You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Confrontation

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.

You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"

"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"

"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."

"Why can't you stay for Uni?"

"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."

"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"

"Daniel, I don't need-"

"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Opening Night

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.

You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.

You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.

Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.

Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.

Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.

Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "

You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."

"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"

"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.

"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.

A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.

"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.

"Thy lips are warm."

A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.

After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.

When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."

"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"

"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."

You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"

"No, I don't. Why?"

He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."

You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."

"It's right here," he smiled.

Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.

You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.

You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."

Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.

"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"

"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."

"No, Mom. No pictures!"

"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."

You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.

The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.

You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.

You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.

"Well, this is awkward."

A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.

"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"

"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."

"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"

"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."

"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."

"I wouldn't?"

"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."

"Haha!"

"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"

"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to like me?"

"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."

"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"

"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."

"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."

You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."

Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.

"Where is everyone going?"

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"

"But it's not over?"

"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"

You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.

"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.

"Well…" James answered.

Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"

"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.

"But I'm not going away for another month."

"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.

"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"

"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.

"Alright, fine!"

The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.

"This party is awesome!"

Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Airport

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.

You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.

He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."

"Impossible!"

He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.

You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.

He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.

"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.

"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."

He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."

"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."

"I promise."

And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.

It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.

Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.

But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.

But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.

#Daniel Sharman x reader #daniel sharman fic #Daniel Sharman imagine #Daniel Sharman fluff #Daniel Sharman angst #very angsty #ftwd imagine #twd imagine #troy otto imagine #dylan obrien imagine #that last one is for exposure #I have no regrets

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jingyismom · 3 years

Text

Happy birthday Lan Jingyi!

word + mood prompted minithreads part 1:

river + sleepy

The sun is high and insects buzz all around their boat. It's too hot to be anywhere right now, but Jingyi supposes the river isn't the worst place to be. He squints up at the disciple steering them.

"We're not gonna hit any rapids or anything right?"

She shakes her head with only a slightly pitying look. Jingyi ignores it. How is he supposed to know river topography? He's not a fish.

Mm. Fish.

"Sizhui, are you hungry?"

Sizhui does that thing where he is Not Rolling His Eyes. "No, Jingyi, I am not hungry half a shichen after eating."

Jingyi sighs. It's too hot is what it is. He yawns.

"Well if there's no excitement and no food, I'm taking a nap."

Nobody says anything. He takes this as enthusiastic support, and stretches out against the side of the boat.

"Wake me when something interesting happens."

"With Jingyi asleep, how could anything be interesting?" Sizhui deadpans.

Jingyi lets his fingers trail in the cool water, smiling. He reaches back to lazily flick droplets at his friend and listen to the quiet, indignant sound he can't keep from making.

"Such a good point," he says. "Wake me when you miss me."

There's a beat of silence.

"Then don't go to sleep."

Jingyi huffs into his sleeve to hide his embarrassed flush.

"Can't hear you. I'm asleep already."

"Apologies."

Jingyi can hear the grin in his voice. It's nice. He sleeps.

ramen + anxiety

The dorm is far too quiet, and it's driving Jingyi out of his mind, but he knows he can't put on music and do calculus at the same time. It just doesn't work. Not that his brain and calculus work all that great anyway, but the point is, he's trying. Really, he is.

His phone buzzes and he grabs it so fast he almost fumbles it across the room. It's a text from Sizhui.

"What are you eating?"

Jingyi lets his head drop to his desk. What time even is it? Like 6?

He checks. It's 9pm.

"Ramen," he types back, defeated. It's all he has.

Or at least, he thinks he has a packet left. He's not sure. He's been too busy to keep track. Between classes, and training, and service hours liberating old ladies' cats, he's hardly had time to breathe. And now he has a test, not a quiz, a TEST, and it's tomorrow MORNING, and he doesn't even know what he's doing with half the material.

And it's 9pm. And he /thinks/ he has ramen. He may just starve.

He stares at his textbook for another interminable period of time until his phone buzzes again. It's Jin Ling, this time.

"come downstairs. bring ur miserable ramen."

Jingyi shoots out of his seat and throws on a sweatshirt. He's not entirely certain he wants to deal with whatever Jin Ling has in mind but it's better than sitting here staring into space. He grabs the ramen and half runs downstairs.

The teeny tiny kitchen is full of people. Sizhui is chopping vegetables. Zizhen is boiling water and heating oil in a pan. Jin Ling is sitting at the table, arms crossed, bowls and utensils and more packets of ramen spread like tarot in front of them.

"...Hey," Jingyi says, a little overwhelmed.

"Hey!" Zizhen calls, jiggling the pan as Sizhui throws something green into it. "Heard we're having ramen?"

Jingyi sinks into the chair across from Jin Ling.

"Yeah,” he says, grateful beyond words. "It was all I had."

rabbits + longing

"You shouldn't slouch," says Sizhui, "you're supposed to be setting an example."

Jingyi motions vaguely at the little disciples filing off the practice field, then leans his head on his fist. "They're not even looking."

"Hm."

It's disapproving sound. Jingyi glances at him sidelong.

"What, no speech?"

Sizhui gives a little shake of his head.

"Am I too pathetic for dignity? Is that what you're saying?"

Sizui frowns hard. "No. Of course not."

"I am," Jingyi insists.

He sprawls on his back along the low wall on which they're sitting. "I'm pathetic. I can't think. I can't eat. I can't even teach basic sword forms. Sizhui, how am I supposed to be a person anymore."

"Jingyi," Sizhui pleads.

"No, I'm serious. All I can think about is-- is his hair. And his smile. And you know, you know how sometimes he just-- he smells like rain? How does he do that? I'll never even know because he hardly knows I exist. How am I supposed to exist?"

Sizhui sighs. Deeply.

"I don't know what to tell you. I wish I did."

"I just--" Jingyi breaks off, horrified by the crack in his voice. "Oh fuck, I just really...I want...I don't know."

Pressure builds in his chest, familiar over the last few weeks. He feels like he might burst. He presses his hands to his eyes, determined not to cry over this. Well, not again.

"You know, Hanguang-jun would say that the world itself is enough to live for, even when it's hurting you."

Jingyi peeks at him out of one eye. "Did he say that? When?"

"Last year," Sizhui says, looking at his hands.

He doesn't have to say more. Last year was especially hard for Sizhui. An extended family trip with his undead cousin helped, but really, how much can something like that improve things?

"Well, if Hanguang-jun said it..." he says, wry. It's a common refrain, but not entirely reassuring just now. "Still, I--"

"Hanguang-jun!" Sizhui says, standing.

Jingyi scrambles to follow, straightening his rumpled robes. "Hanguang-jun."

HGJ is striding toward them out of the trees. Jingyi hasn't seen him alone since Wei-qianbei came back. He hopes everything is still okay.

"Sit," he says when he reaches them. They sit. HGJ stares at them, then glances around the empty field. "Behind the wall, on the ground."

Jingyi exchanges a glance with Sizhui, but they both clamber over it to sit behind. HGJ walks around it, stately, and then goes to his knees in front of them.

Jingyi stares, breathless, absolutely certain they're about to receive some great cultivation secret, perhaps even the key to immortality. HGJ is so serious, and careful, and has never asked him to join him somewhere private before. This is it. It's happening. He doesn't know what it is but it's happening right now.

"Be careful," HGJ says. "Do not frighten them."

Jingyi nods. He'll be so careful. He doesn't know who not to frighten but he'll work on it-- he's generally not very intimidating anyway, it should be fine.

HGJ leans toward him. He extends his arms.

And deposits two small, round, perfectly white bunnies in Jingyi's lap.

"H-- Hanguang-jun?"

Jingyi stares at the creatures. They're warm, and look very soft. They seem sleepy.

"When you feel better," HGJ says, "Sizhui will show you where they live."

Jingyi looks up at him, at the serene expression on his face, and his earlier resolve crumbles.

"Th-thank you Hanguang-jun," he says, wiping tears and snot off his face.

"Mn."

HGJ stands and takes his leave. Sizhui pats his arm. The bunnies nuzzle his hands.

affection + congee

After one of the most miserable nights of Jingyi's life, the rising sun shines into his eyes. He rolls over and pulls the blanket over his head. Everything is awful. His head hurts. His face hurts. His throat hurts for some reason? He can barely breathe.

He feels like a boiled cabbage. He knows he should be getting up, Hanguang-jun will expect him to be at breakfast with everyone else, but he just can't. Not yet.

He pouts to himself, whimpering pathetically as he pictures Hanguang-jun’s disappointed face. He can't survive it.

He hears the door open, and forces himself upright, trying not to list to the side.

"Up, 'm up," he says, and tries to get out of bed.

He can't really see out of his watery eyes but he assumes it's Sizhui come to collect him.

"Aiyo, get back in bed you little nuisance, your thumping around will wake the whole inn," comes a different voice entirely. Brisk hands push him down and pull the covers over him. "That yao really did a number on you, huh? Who's ever heard of a sinus infection curse?? Bad luck."

"Not luck," Jingyi says, mulish. "Pushed Jin Ling out of the way."

"I know, I know," Wei-qianbei goes on, and Jingyi thinks he might be dreaming what he says next. "You were very brave, we all saw. Jin Ling is grateful."

Jingyi frowns. "That doesn't sound right."

Wei-qianbei chuckles. "Just take it. And this, here, it'll help you feel better."

A spoon appears in front of his face, full of something pale.

"Wei-qianbei," he says slowly, "is this...your congee?"

A snort. "No. Hanguang-jun made it, just for you."

Jingyi blinks up at him. "He did?"

"Mhmm," Wei-qianbei nods, his mouth pressed tightly closed.

Jingyi has a feeling he's being made fun of. He pouts, but takes the spoon and puts it in his mouth.

"Wow. Good."

"Of course it is, I made it."

Jingyi gapes. "You--"

Wei-qianbei ruffles his hair. "Someone had to take care of you and I drew the short straw. Eat up, and you /will/ feel better, alright?"

"...alright." Jingyi concedes. It seems to be helping already, somehow. "I will."

"That's a good little duckling."

Wei-qianbei laughs at his grimace and pats his shoulder.

"You look more like yourself already."

part 2 of these minithreads posted in a reblog later today <3

#lan jingyi #mdzsnet #untameddaily #my fic #the untamed fanfic #this is about half the prompts i got #i'll add the rest in a reblog later <3

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

If he's lucky I'll let him join

Part 7: Yes. No. Maybe…

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this out. This is the second last chapter, the finale piece will be out Wednesday evening.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, smut fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) oral (male receiving), angst

Word Count: 4200

May 15

“Shhh baby don’t want them to hear,” he whispers. His fingers dig harshly into your hips only cause you to moan louder.

“Don’t worry man I got it,” Fred says, pulling your jaw down and shoving his dick inside your mouth. Your breath is pulled from your lungs and your moan get caught around him while he starts to thrust in, his salty precum landing on your tongue.

“Hey,” Steph greets, wrapping an arm around you. “Y/N right?” she questions, giving Fred a hug.

“Yeah,” you confirm, removing your shoes to add to the growing pile by the door.

“Come in, some people are out back but almost everyone is down the hall.”

Fred’s hand is on your back, gently steering you down the hall. The regular season ended and they have a few days off before the start of round 1 against the Canadians. With this time Mitch and Steph are hosting a barbeque for the team and their families. A chance for everyone to have some fun and take it easy before the playoffs start and everything gets crazy with games and practices.

You met a portion of the WAG’s last year, but it’s been over 16 months since you’ve seen them. And there is also a bunch of new players which means new face and names to learn. Though not everyone on the team has come out today. Fred brought you as his date, but Auston is here as well. It’s the first time you have been in the presence of both men without having sex or being able to touch, even flirt with Auston. But it’s only for a couple hours.

The sun is shining, temperature over 20°C, no wind and barely a single cloud in the sky. It’s an amazing day for early May. Auston has on simple navy t-shirt, his arms on full display. Tattooed biceps and the chain poking out under the hem of his shirt, backwards ball cap on his dark curls. He smiles upon seeing you, but continues on his conversation with Mitch and William.

You’re thankful for the laughter and music that disguises the moan slipping through your lips. It’s soft and subtle, something most people but wouldn’t pick up on, but Fred does. He wraps an arm around your waist, lips gently brushing against your forehead while he chuckles lightly.

“Want a drink skat,” he hums fingers gently playing with your belt loop. His hand slides down and he briefly and softly gives your ass a squeeze. “Frederik,” you scold into his chest trying to not draw attention.

“So that’s not okay, but you eye fucking Auston from across the room is,” he mumbles into your ear. Burying your face into his chest, you try to allow the heat from your cheeks to fade before you finally pull away.

Fred has known for almost a month about you and Auston. Apart from his comments when you were pinned between him and Auston’s door, he hasn’t said anything to you. You didn’t expect him to say much that night, but you thought he would bring it up at some point over the last 4 weeks.

After the threesome he seemed somewhat upset. The Leafs had a week at home, and he seemed somewhat distant. He didn’t call you on the Friday or Saturday, on the Sunday he sent a couple texts. When you saw him on Monday he apologized, said he had a setback in his recovery; that he thought he’d be back playing by that point and was frustrated by it, but everything seemed to be fine after that.

A few days the Leafs left on a ten day road trip out west. Fred joined the team, and true to his word Auston asked you to watch Felix. 10 days of walks, kisses and snuggles. Dog sitting also came with you sending him multiple pictures a day and even a few Facetimes, but you think those Facetimes were more an excuse for him to talk to you.

You contemplated keeping him forever, but reluctantly handed the leash back when they returned. Auston of course paid you with multiple orgasms; just the two of you. Since they returned from the road trip you have had a couple nights with just Auston, some with just Fred, and multiple threesomes. Apart from their road games you have spent 2 maybe 3 nights alone in your own bed. Every other night has been at one of their condos.

It’s an easy and fun night at Mitch’s.

It’s not a crazy party like the previous year. Everyone is drinking at a slower rate, spending more time on conversations than on party games. Mitch spends most of the afternoon over the barbecue, Steph busying around in house refilling drinks and setting out some food. There is a buzz as everyone eagerly awaits the playoffs. An excitement abound, the hope and potential that comes with the post season. But not just any post season, a Leafs – Canadians matchup.

It’s a good afternoon, and you’re enjoying yourself. But it would be better if Auston wasn’t shooting you winks from across the room, constantly looking at you over the rim of his glass. He is doing absolutely nothing, just existing, and you barely can contain yourself.

Every wink, every smirk, every breath he takes your panties dampen even more.

If that wasn’t enough Fred is never too far from you. When you’re talking to Steph he was beside Auston grinning at you. When grabbing some veggies and dip he softly trailed a finger over your forearm. Later when talking with Tessa and Morgan, he came up beside you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. His cologne and soft touch, Auston’s lingering glances and boisterous laugh echoing through the room are enough to make your knees give out. The two of them getting you very excited for what is going to happen once you leave later tonight.

Walking up to the drink table you feel a body approach you and your body stiffens, hairs on the nape of your neck standing up. “Having fun y/n,” Auston mumbles in your ear.

“Mhm,” you respond lightly, trying to distract yourself but his woodsy cologne overtakes your senses.

“I like your dress,” he hums, reaching over you for some ice, even though there is an abundance in his glass already. Your breath hitches when his forearm ever so slightly grazes your breast; his lips curling up in the process. Glancing to your side you spot Fred, engaged in a conversation with Mitch but still keeping a watchful eye on you.

Tipping his glass to you, you almost fall over. Fumbling to set your drink down you mutter something about the bathroom. Stepping in the bathroom your entire body is hot and clammy. Knuckles go white from clenching the cool marble, staring down to the sink you take some uneasy breaths.

Trying to gather yourself you realize it’s a lost cause, you won’t get any relief until you leave. Until you get back to their building and they provide you with some. You and Fred have snuck away at a party before, but this is not the scene. That night involved a lot more alcohol, the guests were loud but you could barely hear them over the echoing music. Today is slower, calmer. People are more so enjoying their time together with the occasional drink.

And sneaking off with Auston would be even worse. People could notice your absence, but it adds the worry of people finding out your sleeping with both Fred and Auston. They might think it’s a polyamorous relationship, or they might judge you for your decision to have a threesome. Either way you don’t want to deal with the repercussions.

Just another couple hours. A couple hours making idle small talk and then you can ride Fred, while Auston’s dick is deep down your throat. Just a couple hours until the ache between your legs is filled. So you take a deep breath, throw some water on your face and step into the hall flattening the wrinkles on your dress.

Starting the trek down the hall you pass by an open bedroom and a large hand grips your forearm pulling you inside. Catching a glimpse of the tattoos you feel hot breath fan over your neck. His large body pressed up against you has the slick building between your legs.

“Auston,” you moan, craning your neck slightly, “we can’t. Not here.”

“You think you can dress like that baby girl and get away with it?”

It’s a relatively simple summer dress. White with thick 1” straps and a straight squared off neck. The bodice is tight, ending on your thigh with a simple floral design. “God I wanted to bury my cock in you since the second you walked through the door.”

Sucking hard on your exposed skin he kicks your legs apart, slowly drawing two fingers up the inside of your thigh. Starting above your knee, slipping under the hem of your dress until he slides them under your thin lace. “Oh baby I think you’ve wanted this all day too,” he groans coating it in your dampness.

Pressing your fabric to the side two fingers dance around your entrance, drawing circles on your clit. A whimper slips through your lips and you feel his fingers curl inside you. “Aus,” you groan, through a few thrusts of his digits, “there’s people.”

Your mind is swirling, bouncing between desire and reason. Your cheeks heat, from both the alcohol and the deviant act that looms ominously in the air. You know this is a terrible idea, there are fifty ways this goes wrong but his large frame pressed against yours, his mouth sucking and nipping your neck, fingers spreading you open more and more each thrust, you can’t say no.

“We gotta be quick,” you push his chest making him take a few steps back. Walking to the edge of the, you pull your dress up, fabric bunching at your waist.

A deep seeded chuckle fills the air, followed by his belt buckle opening and jeans being shoved down his thighs. Bending you over the end of the bed, his hands are on your hips his length sliding in your heat. Trying to contain your moans you bite down on your lower lip, the taste of copper flooding your mouth. But it doesn’t help.

“Ssh, baby girl, you gotta be quiet,” Auston chuckles softly against you after a particularly hard thrust, your hands grabbing a fist full of the duvet. “Wouldn’t want anyone to find out we’re in here, would we? Catch you with my cock buried deep in your pussy while Freddie is outside.”

“Oh fuck—” His thrust hits just right, pelvis perfectly angled against your g-spot. Your belly swells with heat and your eyes flutter shut, unable to keep them open for a second longer.

“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” A voice mutters from a distance as the door closes. Your eyes go wide realizing Auston never locked the door, anybody could have wandered in.

“Y/N really wanted to get started,” Auston slows his hips but keeps his cock deep inside your walls, gently rolling his hips.

“Yeah, y/n,” Fred chuckles. When you turn your head slightly to look at him you see he has a dark grin plastered on his face. Walking towards you he winks and Auston digs his hands into your waist, pulling you until you are standing; your back against his chest.

“Is that true baby?” Fred tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “you couldn’t wait?”

Staring at the smug look on Fred’s face you get the idea this was planned by the two of them. Whether they planned it once they got here or days ago it all seems very convenient. Before you can focus too hard on it, Auston slowly pushes forward, not stopping until your ass hits his thighs. His hand begins to lightly trail across your stomach, grazing your nipple in the process. Biting your bottom lip you struggle to supress a moan, which only makes him laugh.

“I asked you a question baby” he repeats, fingers hovering dangerously close to your clit.

“Yes,” you gasp following a deep thrust. All you want to do is wipe that smug expression off his face, but before you can Auston’s mouth is on the back of your neck.

“Shit,” you moan, causing Fred to laugh after a particularly harsh thrust.

“Shhh baby don’t want them to hear,” Auston whispers. His fingers dig harshly into your hips only cause you to moan louder.

You have no time to react before both men are setting fast paces. Your nails find Fred’s thick thighs for stability trying not to gag as he hits the back of your throat. One of Auston’s hands snakes around to your clit, at the same time Fred is pulling your hair away from your face. You can feel your orgasm quickly approaching, the familiar tingling in your core.

“Fuck princess,” Auston grunts, beginning to get sloppy. Moaning around Fred’s length, he uses you for his need. Chasing his high both of their hips snap at the same time, pushing you closer to your high.

“Your mouth feels so good skat,” Fred groans as Auston’s thumb starts pressing harder into your sensitive bud seeking out your high. The sounds you’re making can only be described as pornographic. Forgetting there is a house full of people meters away, you fall victim to your pleasure.

Auston helps you to stand as Fred brings a towel and wipes his cum from your chin and chest. But before he can clean between your legs Auston swats his hand away. Gripping the fabric of your dress he pushes it down your sticky thighs. Lips ghosting over your ear his voice is dark as husky he groans, “I want you to think of me as you feel my cum drip down your legs while you talk to our friends.”

You shudder at the thought, but Fred’s lips are quickly on yours. The little bit of oxygen you had in your lungs is ripped from you, the kiss is full of passion and hunger. His hands trail down your body before he finds your hands, “ready?” he mumbles through a breath.

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling against his lips.

Giving your hand a light squeeze he pulls you to the door, when it flings open, Steph and Audrey on the other side. They both blink staring at you, but it’s not until their eyes see Auston readjusting his pants behind you their jaws drop. Shifting their gaze between you and Fred and Auston they are trying to process if they actually are seeing it right.

“I am so sorry,” Steph blurts out, her cheeks going red. Stepping back they close it behind them and you can immediately hear them cackling on the other side.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice barely audible.

“Its fine,” Fred squeezes your hand, your heart rate building.

“WHAT?” you snap bringing your gaze to meet his. “How can you say –“

“Hey,” Auston calls out. Coming in front of you he tilts your head forcing you to stare are him. “It’s not a big deal, people have sex y/n.”

“But –“

“No, no buts,” he uses a thumb to wipe away some mascara that had run down your cheek. “You will be fine, everything will be fine. Now were gonna go back out there and-“

“I am NOT going back out there,” you interject.

“Yes we are, leaving will only be worse,” Fred says softly. “Everyone will talk the second we walk out the door.”

“We’ll stay for like an hour, and then go back. You can cuddle up with Felix. We’ll watch whatever shitty chick flick you want, do tequila shots, whatever you want after. But right now we have to go out there. We weren’t doing anything wrong, we have no reason to hide or be embarrassed.”

Mulling over his words you sigh knowing they aren’t going to budge, “okay.”

A half smile tugs on Auston’s lips and he leans in placing a soft but brief kiss on your lips. His mustache tickles your upper lip but he pulls away and heads out of the room first. Waiting a minute, allowing you time to compose yourself, Fred pulls you out of the room.

Walking down the hall you can hear Mitch laughing at something outside. Fred drapes an arm over your shoulders and gently presses his lips to your head, smiling down at you. Your body becomes numb, if it wasn’t for Fred tugging you outside you would be frozen in place. Feet unable to move.

Walking outside you feel like all eyes are on you. They aren’t, but it feels that way.

Auston, Will and Morgan are off to the side laughing about something. He shoots you a grin before continuing on with his conversation. Fred pulls you to one of the outside couches. Trying to put you at ease he slings one arm around your shoulder, you tucked tightly under his arm.

You can smell his overpriced cologne, you can feel his fingers gently trailing over your shoulder and you can hear his voice. But none of it pulls you out from your trance. Your walls feel like they are tightening around you and you are quickly losing oxygen.

“Y/N,” Fred squeezes your shoulder.

“Hmm?” you head snaps to see him.

“Mitch asked if you wanted a drink,” Fred smiles with a soft smile.

“Probably thirsty after your earlier activities,” you hear someone sneer, glancing to the side you see Steph, Audrey, Bianca, along with a few other WAGS. Some seem confused by the comment, but the vast majority have narrowed eyes and grins plastered on their faces.

“Uh no, I’m okay,” you lie. Your throat is dry, not from Fred’s cock slamming into the back of it, but from your anxiety building. You would love a drink, but what you really want is to leave. You just need to get away. It feels like everybody has eyes on you, you keep thinking you overhear people whispering your name. Fred carries on as if nothing happened, chatting with Mitch, laughing at something Zach said. Maybe it’s his way of downplaying it, or it’s his way of trying to reassure you, but it doesn’t work.

It’s a quiet drive, Auston and Fred chatting in the front. You melt into the backseat, staring aimlessly out the window. You don’t even recognize where you are until you are parked in the underground garage. The second the car stops you are gone, heading to the elevator.

Pressing the up button about fifty time the doors finally open and you step in, both men behind you. Staring to the ceiling you blink a few times, trying to suppress your tears.

“You coming?” Fred asks when the door opens to his floor.

“In a minute,” you sniffle. “I want to see Felix first.”

“Kay,” Fred smiles lightly. Taking a small step forward, he hesitantly leans down and places a warm kiss on your cheek before stepping off the elevator.

“I have couches,” Auston laughs seeing you on the floor. Felix curled between your legs as you slowly pet him, warm tears rolling down your cheeks. You don’t reply, continuing to slowly rub Felix’s fur. Hands grab your legs and he pulls you against his chest and making his way to the couch.

Placing you on the couch, he falls beside you, pulling you against him. That’s when it happens, the floodgates open. His grip tightens on you while your chest heaves as you dissolve into a git of tears. He tries to calm you, talking is a soothing tone in your ear. Choking on your tears, Auston just holds you, your hands clenching his shirt.

“Hey,” Auston smiles, handing you a steaming mug. You don’t know when you stopped crying or how long you were asleep for, but the night sky is flooding the room. Apart from the stove light and one lamp in the corner the entire room is dark, empty, a feeling you know too well.

“Thanks,” your voice cracks slightly. Sitting beside you, he pulls you up onto his lap, your head falling on his shoulder. Felix takes the opportunity to curl up beside you, he head beside your hand so you can slowly scratch his head.

“Don’t worry,” he finally says after a few minutes of silence. “They aren’t allowing anyone at the playoff games for now, so you won’t have to see them for a bit.”

“That doesn’t –“

“It does matter, they will forget about it by the next time you see them,” he runs his hand up and down his large sweater hanging off your frame. You want to believe him, but the pit in your stomach only gets bigger by the second. Biting the inside of your cheek, you take a few deep breaths. Silence falling over you.

“What are you doing this summer?” He asks, trying to pull you from your stupor.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, not interested in his small talk. “I had a few interviews these past couple weeks, if I get it then the last 2 weeks of August I’ll be at the school planning. Spend some time with friends, and family maybe, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Sounds exciting,” he laughs.

“Mhm,” you agree. “You?”

“I’ll be in Arizona once the season ends, but hopefully that’s not for a while,” he replies. “But just hang out with friends, family. I think my mom wants to go on a family trip somewhere.”

“Nice,” you breathe out.

“Yeah,” he trails of slightly. “Maybe you could come down for a weekend.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you dismiss. You are barely in the mood to talk, let alone make plans for two months from now, “if the border opens.”

“If not I have my Visa, I could come up we could go somewhere for a weekend. Whistler, Banff,” he suggests.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“My sisters would love you,” he chuckles.

Silence once again falls on you. You assume Auston believes you are just upset from earlier, and you are. But mainly you are mulling over his offer. You don’t do that. You don’t go on dates. You aren’t dating. You have sex. Yes you cuddle, you talk, and you have sleepovers. You watch movies, and have dinner, you have even confided in him. But everything leads to sex.

“Why would your sisters love me?” you ask harshly. “Have you told them about me?”

“No,” he laughs. “Just that you’re awesome, I can’t see the not liking you.”

“But why would I meet them?” you bite, pushing off of him. Felix’s head pops up briefly from the commotion before he lies back down beside Auston. “Why would you introduce me to your family? Why would you introduce your family to someone you are just fucking?” you bite.

“Y/N seriously?” he questions, eyes grazing over your face while his body stiffens. “You’re not just someone I’m fucking, at least not to me. I don’t think you ever were someone I was just fucking.”

Standing up he grabs your hand closing the gap between your bodies. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel this?” he questions softly. You can’t match his gaze, knowing you will crumble under it. You can’t process what he is saying because it’s a lot. You never thought about a relationship with Auston, maybe it had crossed your mind once, but you have been so caught up in your feelings for Fred, his feelings for you, that you never considered Auston.

“I uh-“ you bring a hand up to wipe away a stray tear. “I gotta go,” you whisper. Pulling away you practically run to the door.

“He doesn’t want you,” he calls out as you reach the door. Letting go of the handle you turn around, Auston still in the middle of the living room, the exact spot you left him. “You’re going to see him? Fred?” he queries, sensing your next move. Your face contorts and you take a deep breath preparing for his next words.

“I know him, he’s not interested like that, not anymore,” Auston says lightly.

Anymore.

That words stings. When did Fred stop losing interest? Was it when you had the first threesome, or the second? When did he stop wanting you, and how didn’t you notice?

“You’re wrong,” you say yanking the door open and heading down the hall. He is wrong, it has to be. Needs to be.

64 notes · View notes

mydekuacademia · 3 years

Note

Can I get A-Z nsfw for kacchan?

Absolutely!

A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I feel like he can go one of two ways: hes either a big baby and just wants to hold you until you both fall asleep, or he does everything from running you a bath to making you some delicious food to massaging your sore muscles

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner)

His favorite parts of his own body are his shoulders and chest. Hes muscled af and is proud of it

On you, he is absolutely an ass man. He wont touch it in public unless he knows nobody can see, but in private? Hoo boy

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He likes to cum on your ass, back, or face or in your mouth. And his pull-out game is immaculate, so count on getting cummed on

D: Dirty Secret

Hes thought about having a threeway with you and Kirishima. He decided against bringing it up and was grateful for that later on when he realized he didnt want to share

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced at all. He never really saw sex as something he needed or even really wanted until you came along. That being said, he still knows what hes doing for the most part. Plus, hes observant as hell, so he'll learn soon enough

F: Favorite Position

As we've established, hes an ass man, so he prefers having you face away from him. If hes really pent up, he'll bend you over a counter. Otherwise, reverse cowgirl is his go-to

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Absolutely not. Hes not goofy in normal life, and that carries over to the bedroom

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He trims his pubes really short, but not shaved. He likes that he feels closer to you that way

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

I mean, as intimate as Katsuki can be. He probably wont call you a dumbass, which translates to true love in Bakugou language. He does, however, take extra care to be gentle with you if hes feeling sad or sappy

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Another thing he didnt really have the desire to do until he was with you. Prior to dating you, he masturbated only when completely necessary. But now that he knows how good the release can feel, he does it maybe once a week or if hes really pissed and cant be with you

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Katsuki. Is. Daddy. He loves when you call him daddy, or even sir. It gives him a huge power trip

Quirk usage - in place of spanking, he'll set off small explosions by your ass. Not enough to hurt you, just enough to get his point across and see your ass jiggle

Orgasm denial and edging. You can cum when he says you can, and he'll bring you right to the edge over and over until he decides youve had enough

Brat taming. Hoooo boy he loves when you act up so he can tame you

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Honestly, any place you wont get caught. Bedroom, kitchen at night, couch, etc. If its a quickie, he does not care about comfort, so literally any surface works. If it's proper sex, he prefers the bed or couch

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Mostly when you act bratty towards him and when you get a little too friendly with someone else (even just hugging them for what he deems to be too long)

N: NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not share, even though he used to fantasize about it a bit. Youre his, dammit

He wont do anything that will actually hurt you or leave marks that last longer than a week or so

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Prefers receiving over giving, but still gives you oral sometimes. He just doesnt really know what to do and wont ask for help, so he only really does it if youve had a bad day or something

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Katsuki is 100% fast and rough. He'll slow down a bit if you ask nicely, but he prefers going at a damn near impossible pace

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He honestly loves quickies. He often doesnt have the patience to wait until you two have more time to go at it, so quickies are perfect. Of course, he loves being able to take his time, but hes not too picky

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Some stuff, hes more than willing to try. Different positions, bondage, sensory deprivation, etc. Other things he wont try unless you bed and/or give him something in return. So like, if you wanna try pegging, you're gonna have to beg for h o u r s and maybe blow him too

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He typically lasts 2 or 3 rounds max, but he can last a pretty decent amount of time, especially if hes teasing you. You best be ready for hours of edging if hes in the right mood

T: Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Nope. He wants to be the only one to make you feel good. The only thing he might have is a pair of handcuffs, but thats iffy

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bakugo is so unfair. He will tease you mercilessly until youre shaking and crying and begging to cum. He, however, cannot handle teasing. He'll either get mad right away or end up begging within minutes

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He isnt really that loud. The most youll get from him are low grunts and groans. If he's really, really pent up, he might let out a whiny moan when he cums

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

He didnt watch porn until being with you. He knew it existed, he just saw it as pointless and trashy. But now he watches it every once in a while if you arent around to help him out

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Hes a bit longer than average with an average girth. Being decently big was a big ego boost for him tbh. It curves slightly up and is uncut

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

A little lower than average tbh. Hes so focused on hero work and one-upping midoriya that sex doesnt really cross his mind that often

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He likes to hold you for a while afterward, so unless he goes all out with aftercare, he stays awake for about half an hour.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #spicy

179 notes · View notes

miraculous-trinity-leo · 3 years

Text

Tᕼᗴ ᑕᕼᗩOTIᑕ ᗩᑎᘜᗴᒪ

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Chapter 5: Don't Jinx It!

·•·—–·•†•·–—·•·

Chloé Bourgeois... A girl that can be described in many words

"She's absolutely ridiculous! I can't believe you have to do an art project with her of all people!" - Alix sprawled out on Marinette's balcony

"She can't be that bad, besides we might become friends." - Marinette sketching some designs

"Believe me, even I think she's a bit much... She's snobby, annoying, rude, immature, spoiled, she basically has the “I'm better than thow” attitude to a T."- Kagami sitting next to the flowerbed while reading a literature book

"See? Even Kagami agrees... Just don't talk to her, actually don't even move if you're in her sights. She's like a T-Rex, she can't see you if you don't move." - Alix

… … … … …

"Hello, I'm Marinette, it's nice to meet you." - Marinette reached out her hand as she smiled

*Que Alix facepalming herself while Kagami lets out a sigh*

"Whatever, I'm Chloé, but I'm sure you already knew that." - Chloé

They started their project and most interactions went the same way, Chloé would sit in a chair near the window and paint her nails while Marinette did all the work. The next day Marinette and Chloé were the only ones in the art room.

"Okay, let's get started." - Marinette skipping her way over to the art supplies

"You do that, I'll just sit over here." - Chloé walking to her chair

"... Say, is it fun painting your nails?" - Marinette looking over to Chloé

"Of course, what girl doesn't like nail art?" - Chloé

"Well, painting on a canvas is kind of like nail art, here try painting something." - Marinette handing Chloé a paint brush

"Please, I don't do art." - Chloé refusing the paint brush

"But you ‘Paint’ your nails." - Marinette

"It's different!" - Chloé

"Okay, how about this, if I can do a magic trick for you, will you try painting just a little bit?" - Marinette

"...Fine, impress me." - Chloé giving Marinette her full attention

Marinette pulled a seed she got earlier that day out of her pocket and showed it to Chloé

"A seed?" - Chloé giving an unimpressed look

"I'll turn it into a flower, as you can see I only have this seed, and there's nothing up my sleeves. When I turn back around this seed will be a flower, are you ready?" - Marinette still holding the seed for Chloé to see

"Just do it already." - Chloé

So, Marinette turned around putting her free hand over the seed, and imagined it growing. When Marinette turned back around, all Chloé saw was a fully bloomed Common Rockrose flower, leaving her stunned.

"How did you do that?!" - Chloé walking up to Marinette to get a better look at the flower

"Family secret." - Marinette with a small smirk - "So, you want to try painting now?"

"... Fine." - Chloé pouted her lips and sat down at an empty canvas while Marinette walked to the table beside it, and Marinette may or may not have seen a small smile on Chloé's face while she grabbed some more paint.

After about 30 minutes Alix and Kagami came in and found Chloé and Marinette flinging water paint at the canvas

"Ha!" - Marinette whiped her arm out, watching as the wet paint from the brush splattered onto the canvas

"Ha HA!" - Chloé doing the exact same motion, but with a little more flare

Kagami and Alix just stared in amazed silence... they had created a master piece... It was a magnificent painting showing a meadow with many flowers in an almost hazy dream kind of look, it had a blue sky and a faint rainbow in the background behind some clouds on the horizon

"It's *sniff* Ridiculously beautiful..." - Chloé

"And you thought painting was boring." - Marinette teasing Chloé

"... Isley-Quinzel, look me in the face and say that again." - Chloé

"And you- ("Boop" - Chloé) -Hey!" - Marinette got booped on her nose by Chloé's paint covered finger

"I admit it was fun... to some extent. Now lets act like this never happened." - Chloé getting ready to leave

"How the hell did you get Chloé to paint?!" - Alix snapping out of her surprise, which caused Chloé to get startled and trip, knocking the paint onto Marinette and herself in the process

"Well... that was a colorful entrance." - Marinette now covered in blue, pink, green and red paint

"Utterly Ridiculous!" - Chloé now covered in yellow, dark green, and blue paint

"Ooops?" - Alix shrugging her shoulders

*facepalms* - Kagami

… … …

Marinette and Chloé had to walk around school covered in paint, definitely getting a few awkward stares from the other kids. About an hour later, each pair of students presented their shared work of art. When Marinette and Chloé went up, both holding their masterpiece while still covered in paint, stunned the other students.(Not because Chloé was 1. covered in paint, 2. actually carrying the painting, and 3. had a smile on her face) Needless to say they got an A+, and for the rest of the day Marinette, Chloé, Alix and Kagami hung out laughing and having fun. Not long after that the other kids started making bets on who Marinette would befriend next, and how long it would take for that someone to be an instant friend.

Chloé ended up spending a lot more time with the GPS and eventually...

The girls sat around in a circle within Marinette's room with all the lights off, only having a single lamp in the center of the room to add an ominous glow

"Are you ready to take the oath?" - Alix

"Yes, but why do we have to make it look like some utterly ridiculous ritual summoning?" - Chloe

"I agree with Chloé, I'm not allowed to summon the unnatural or paranormal." - Kagami

"Well, let's forget the paranormal stuff for now, ehem. Chloé Bourgeois, do you promise to always have our backs..." - Marinette

"Through the good and the bad..." - Alix

"To say the truth and nothing but the truth." - Kagami

"Wrong oath Kagami." - Marinette whispering to Kagami

"...... To always stay on the path that is straight and true..." - Kagami

"To uphold the justice in this crazy world..." - Alix

"And to guide those who have abandoned the light... Are you ready to join the GPS?" - Marinette

"Yes." - Chloé

"Girls, time to eat- ... Marinette, please tell me you aren't summoning the unnatural like Harley did that one time." - Selina just opening the door and seeing basically a ritual gathering

"In mom's defense, she was trying to get rid of the spooky spirit." - Marinette

"That was from a story Ed made up that one time, you wouldn't stop seeing the shadows ‘moving’, and then Harley thought she saw them move, and she ended up doing a ritual to get rid of it, but we ended up with the cursed toaster ghost. And now all bread we toast is burnt back home." - Selina

"... But burnt toast is the best!" - Marinette

"Ivy told you that it would make you grow quicker, which then tricked you into liking burnt toast, which isn't tasty at all." - Selina

"*dramatic gasp* You Take That Back!" - Marinette

"Nope, now come down in 3 so we can eat." - Selina closed the door and walked away

"You girls agree with me right?" - Marinette turning to her friends

"... Marinette, how can you think burnt toast is good?!" - Alix

"It's... burnt." - Kagami

"Ehhh, it's okay." - Chloé

"Thank You!" - Marinette hugging Chloé

"... un-second thought, I retract my ‘yes’ to that oath." - Chloé

"Too late." - Kagami

"You're stuck with us..." - Alix then leaned over and whispered in Chloé's ear - "Foreverrrrr."

……… ……… ………

After they had their food they went back up to Marinette's (ritual free) room and started playing Ultimate Mecha Strike 2.

After a few rounds of Marinette dominating Ultimate Mecha Slaughter Strike 2, they moved on to watching some Jurassic Park

"So... your mom cursed your toaster?" - Chloé

"... maybe." - Marinette

"Honestly though, who in their right mind likes burnt toast?" - Alix

"Apparently Marinette." - Kagami

"It's kinda like thin burnt rice crispy treats, just minus the sugar." - Marinette

"*dramatic gasp* You Take That Back Right Now." - Alix

"You don't even know what rice crispy treats are, do you." - Marinette now looking away from the TV and directly at Alix

"Not a clue." - Alix

"It's an American treat, it's actually really good, not to sweet, and not to crunchy." - Chloé

"This is why you are part of the GPS." - Marinette hugging Chloé - "You understand most red blooded American treats, and for that I give you my thanks." - Marinette now starting to tear up

"What are we, chop liver?" - Kagami pointing to Alix and herself

"Well unlike you two, I have seen the other side... I swear, they're all hillbillies, and they live in the worst weather ever! Sunshine state my ass, more like out door saunas 24/7." - Chloé ended up mumbling her last few words

"... That's Florida, and it's not that bad, it never gets hotter than 115°F, and that's during summer." - Marinette

"... No wonder you like burnt toast... your brains were burnt with it." - Alix

"I didn't live in Florida, I lived in New Jersey, and the weather is better there." - Marinette

"That's what she said." - Kagami stuffing her face with popcorn

……… ……… ………

Over the course of the next few months Marinette taught the GPS all she knew about parkour and self-defense, at first they wondered why she knew so many different techniques of self-defense, until she explained where she grew up had a few unpleasant people. They still think she's meta.

When Winter rolled around she was to head back to Gotham for the next month and a half. She was packed and ready when the GPS burst into her room.

"Don't leave! I need an Ice skating buddie!" - Alix clinging to Marinette

"You have Chloé and Kagami, besides, I'm pretty sure Kagami is better on the ice than I am." - Marinette accepting the fact she won't be getting Alix off her anytime soon

"It's Not The Same!" - Alix becoming a human koala on Marinette's back

"She's going to see her family, show some restraint!" - Chloé detaching Alix from Marinette

"No!" - Alix getting out of Chloé's grip and reattaching herself to Marinette

"There's a new attraction with a big ramp jump for the ice skating rink." - Kagami on her phone

"Really?! Let me see!" - Alix detaching herself to look at Kagami's phone, only to see the normal boring ice skating rink - "You tricked me." - Alix gave Kagami the stink eye

"It got you off of Marinette at least." - Kagami putting her phone away

"I'm gonna miss you girls." - Marinette gave them a big hug

"You better not do anything stupid while you're back home." - Chloé

"I would never." - Marinette thinking of the time she ran from the Bat-Birds

"What city in New Jersey do you live in again?" - Alix

"That's-" - Marinette

"Kitten you all set for Gotham?" - Selina opened the door and saw Marinette in a big hug with the girls - "Oh, you girls are here, hope you said your goodbyes because we're leaving in 10 minutes." - She then closed the door to make sure everything was ready downstairs

"... ... ..." - Chloé/Alix/Kagami - "You live where?"

"Gotham...?" - Marinette slowly backing up to grab her luggage and make her way to the door

"Oh hell No!" - Kagami standing between Marinette and the door

"You're staying!" - Alix clinging to Marinette again

"Gotham's a death trap!!!" - Chloé joining Alix and clinging to Marinette

... ... ...

After some convincing the girls let Marinette go, and she was now on the plane that would take her back home.

"... They really think Gotham's a death trap?" - Selina relaxing in the first class seats she got them.

"It's not that bad is it? I had asked them what they thought could even go wrong." - Marinette

"... Well literally everything can go wrong in Gotham... It's not to late to get off actually." - Selina getting up

"Not you too!" - Marinette grabbing her Aunt's hand

"I'm joking Kitten... you are wearing the bullet proof vest under that coat right?" - Selina

"Of course." - Marinette

"Then we should be fine..." - Selina now sitting back down and looking 10 times more nervous than before

"..." - Marinette put her hands together and mumbled under her breath - "Please don't jinx it. Please don't jinx it. Please don't jinx it. Pleeeeease don't jinx it."

……………… They had an hour delay, had to switch flights and couldn't eat anything because it looked like it would give them food poisoning, and they didn't get a wink of sleep......... but they made it to Gotham in one piece... at 2 in the morning.

"You jinxed it." - Marinette dragging her luggage sleepily

"It can't get any worse now-" - Selina

"No!-" - As Marinette tried to stop her Aunt from finishing her sentence, a truck past by the curb and sent a blanket of powdered snow flying into them - "-say it..."

"...Okay, now it-" - Selina was cut off by Marinette stuffing her mouth with the last secret cookie she had

"Don't anger the jinx gods, please." - Marinette pleading to her Aunt

After Selina finished the secret cookie she called Ivy to pick them up. They waited about 15 minutes before Ivy, along with a sleeping Harley in the back seat, picked them up. As they got in the car Harley jolted awake

"Are we dere yet?" - Harley rubbing her eyes

"Yes, and in our snow covered glory we entered the car." - Marinette giving her mom a hug

"I missed yuh so much, it just hasn't been de same wit'outcha cupcake." - Harley returning the hug

"And what about me, did you miss me?" - Selina getting comfortable in the passenger seat

"Ehhh." - Harley tilted here hand from side to side as she continued to side hug Marinette

"... Have I ever told you how great you are at warm welcomes?" - Selina giving Harley the stink eye

"She didn't mean it, you know she has no filter at this hour." - Ivy pulling up to the stoplight

"In other words her honest opinion of me being back is ‘ehhh’, I'm glad she thinks so highly of me." - Selina resting her head on the window

The ride to their base was peaceful, they arrived and went to their rooms after Marinette gave her moms and aunt a goodnight hug. As Marinette went to sleep in her bed, Bud and Lou jumped onto the bed and curled up next to her, as she stroked their fur, she couldn't help but feel excited to spend time with her family and friends. She soon fell asleep in the calm silence of her room, the last thought she had before drifting off, was that she was happy to be back home.

·•·—–·•★•·–—·•·

Chapter 5 complete, hope you're all having a magnificent day, rockin' all the positive vibes and staying safe !BUG-OUT! 🐞💮🐞

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

I Crave Annihilation (P.2)

Title: I Crave Annihilation (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mafia!Dark Tony Stark. Tony works for the reader’s very influential politician father moving guns and drugs. She starts flirting with him and he is returning the vibes. She moves into her own place out of her parent’s house and texts him to come save her from a house party. Smut ensues. Words: 3,450 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, HUGE age difference, angst, violence, infidelity, possessive behavior

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“Who does this pussy belong to, baby?”

“You, sir!” you keened, your knuckles white grasping your blankets.

Tony slowed before laying a hard smack across your ass, drawing a cry from you. He kneaded at your ass roughly, groaning. You could feel him pulling your cheeks apart as he thrusted, a low hum leaving his mouth. He was definitely relishing in watching his cock moving in and out. He laid another hard smack and you whined for him.

“Such a good girl,” he husked, resuming his brutal pace.

<><><>

Tony left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He smirked to himself, knowing he had worn Y/N out; she was going to be sore tomorrow. Just like how he liked to leave her so she remembered who she belonged to. Descending the stairs to the ground floor, he stopped seeing two girls sitting on the couch, looking pretty intoxicated, still holding drinks in their hands, Taco Bell wrappers spread out along the coffee table. They had not heard the girls come home; not a surprise considering how loud him and Y/N had been. He surmised they had been there for a while with the food and had been listening to him completely wreck Y/N upstairs.

He threw them a charming smirk and asked, “Roommates?”

“Yeah…” one said slowly, trying to hide the smile on her face. She was looking him over, taking in his tailored pants and pressed dress shirt.

“I wasn’t here. Right?” Tony responded, cocking his head in expectance. They both nodded and Tony winked, and he saw them both turn bashful in a second before he turned, opening the door and walking out.

As soon as he got outside, he pulled his phone out and texted Y/N.

Your roommates are downstairs. You might want to talk to them about keeping their lips sealed.

<><><>

You read the text and your eyes widened. You got dressed quickly and rushed out of your room but stopped at the top of the stairs. What were you going to say? You had been trying to keep this a secret for months.

Moving controlled down the stairs, you came to the bottom and turned to face the couch. They were both looking at you, bursting at the seams. Suddenly, they burst into laughter – the both of them – holding onto each other.

“Y/N! Do you have a sugar daddy?” Mara guffawed. She saw the look on your face, and she leaned forward, waving her hands in surrender. “No, no! I’m not judging! I’m just curious. He’s hot!”

“Oh my god, no wonder you don’t take guys home,” Lisa said. “Holy shit. He could beat the shit out of them if he ever caught you in bed with someone else.”

“How long were you guys here?” you asked uncertainly, worried about how much of it they had actually heard.

“Um… from the first ‘are you a dirty girl?’ I think?” Mara asked, snorting again. “And then every subsequent smack after that. How is your ass?”

“Oh, shut up,” you said as the two of them erupted into giggles again. “You can’t say anything!”

Lisa crowed, “Oh, it’s a secret! Oh okay.”

“I’m fucking serious,” you snapped, much to their amusement. “Now did you leave me any food or what?”

Mara laughed pointing at the bag, “Yeah. And I’m sure you’re absolutely famished.”

<><><>

Where are you?

You looked down at your phone, confusion coming on. You had told Tony what you were doing and where you were at when he had asked about an hour ago.

At the bar I told you.

I know, but where inside.

Are you here?

You know how much I don’t like people answering my questions with another question, baby.

I’m in the back.

Come to the front then.

Well, that answered your question well enough.

You made your way through the crowded back room, through the hall. You looked in the first front room and did not see him anywhere and you went through the doorway to the main front room where the bigger bar was set up. You spotted him and Steve sitting in a booth against the wall. He had told you that Steve was aware of your relationship, which had made you nervous, but Tony seemed to trust him, so you had to trust in that.

Sliding into the booth next to him, you asked, “What’s going on?”

“Figured we would swing by and see if you wanted to go out with us and Steve’s lady for the night.” Steve smirked at the comment. “Exclusive place.”

“You couldn’t have just texted me to get the answer?”

Tony simpered, “I wasn’t really looking to ask.”

Of course not. He was not the asking type.

“When are you going?”

“I’d prefer sooner rather than later. This bar is pretty… college-y.”

“I’m not entirely complaining,” Steve said finally speaking, his eyes wandering around the bar at all the people. His eyes lingered on one in particular and he winked at them, causing them to smile shyly.

“Can I get my drink then? Before we go?” you asked. “I was just about to.”

“If you move, I can go grab it for you,” Tony told you.

You shook your head, and he narrowed his eyes slightly. You quickly explained, “My friend owes me one. I bought the first round.”

“If you insist,” Tony said bringing his glass to his lips.

You tapped his arm before getting up again and walking through the tables to go back to the hall leading back to your table. You walked up to the table and your roommate, Mara, that was out with the small group asked you where your drink was. You eyed the line at the bar back here and frowned at how long it was.

“I’m gonna get but I wanna take that shot,” you said over the music to your friend, Gabriel. “Wanna come back up with me to the front bar? There’s less of a line up there surprisingly than the one back here.”

Mara was eyeing you knowingly, a smug smirk on her lips. You had been seeing Tony now for months since they had caught him leaving. You glared at her, willing her to stay quiet, as you grabbed your purse, and she held back a laugh.

Gabriel followed you up to the front bar and you shot a quick look in the direction of the booth to make sure they were still there. Tony was not looking at you but Steve was. Gabriel was talking to you and drew your attention away, your back to the booth now. The line went quickly and the two of you ordered your shots, took them, and left the glasses on the bar. You gave him a quick hug before parting ways.

Steve was getting up out of the booth, avoiding eye contact as he straightened out his leather jacket.

“I’ll be outside,” he said to Tony more than anything.

Tony finished off his drink and got up as well, his body brushing yours. He was peering down his nose at you and asked, “Anybody I gotta be worried about?”

“What?”

“The guy?” Tony asked.

“Yes, my friend.”

“’Friend’.”

You realized where this conversation was going and you sighed heavily, “Tony, don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he asked, a dangerous tone underlying.

“I promise you I mean it when I say a friend,” you told him, leaning into him. His expression was stern, and you grabbed the lapels of his jacket, to pull yourself closer, and said, “Trust me.”

Tony’s tongue ran across his lower lip and he finally said, “Don’t betray that trust, precious.”

Later outside the high-end club, Tony and you took a break from the atmosphere to mess around in the backseat of his car. Foreheads pressed together as you straddled him, low moans filling the space in the car until the two of you came tumbling down.

Tony pressed his nose at you to get you to move your face and his lips found yours, his hand at the back of your head holding you tight.

“I gotta go on a trip for a week overseas,” he murmured.

“Where?”

His eyes crinkled with a tickled smile, “You really think I can tell you that?”

Shrugging sheepishly, you said, “No, I guess not.”

He pecked your nose, “I’ll be back before you know it. Promise. And I’ll bring you something back.”

That perked you up much to his amusement.

<><><>

You were coming back from the pool house a month later when you saw Tony coming up the path. You faltered in your steps as he advanced. He barely broke stride as he grabbed your arm and began pulling you along with him.

“What are you doing?” you asked him alarmed, stumbling once as you worked to match his stride.

He did not answer.

He was drunk, that was apparent.

You had been out with your mum shopping and she had asked you to take the new towels out to the pool house. Tony was over watching a football game with some of the other men and you noticed he had caught sight of you walking from the hall to the kitchen. You had tried to ignore his stare as you disappeared again, heading out the door. You had turned him down earlier in the week about him coming over and he being his persistent self, had shown up at your place anyway, only to find you gone. He had called you and you had had barely any signal as you told him you were not there, you were up in the mountains with your friends. You had not told him you were going on a trip considering it had been decided on a whim and that had only irked him more. You had not spoken since you had gotten back.

It seemed he did not pick up on the hint to be subtle and let it be until a better time.

“Tony, we can’t—” you tried to plead. You were terrified someone was going to catch you here and he was too gone to either care or think of that. Even if you were in the pool house, someone could have seen you two sneak in.

“Tony, my mum sent me out here to put the towels out here. We had more things to put away inside! She’s gonna wonder where I’m at!”

He was still ignoring you, dragging you and he shoved you inside the bathroom.

“Tony!” you tried again.

“Be quiet!” Tony ordered you, turning you around forcibly. Your hands sprawled on the wall, your ass pressing into his pelvis. His breath was hot on your neck when he said, “You ready to apologize?”

“Apologize—”

“Avoiding me?” he growled.

“I’m not—” you said trying to turn around, but his grip flexed, forcing you to stay as you were.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, hiking your dress up and shoving your thong aside to give him access. “How long have you been back?”

“A day—” you started to say but it was strangled in your throat as he began stroking your nub.

“A whole damn day and no text. No call,” he muttered angrily underneath his breath, working you up to get you ready for him. “Nothing to let me know you were back. That’s fucking naughty of you.” You ground against his fingers, biting your lip, whimpering. Upon hearing your arousal, he sneered, “You’re lucky I’m even taking the time to get you ready at all, precious.”

You felt and heard how wet you were getting – he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

Tony’s fingers disappeared and he kicked one of your legs out to spread you out further for him. Without much warning, he was pressing in roughly, his hands gripping at your hips. You moaned lowly as he stretched you out and let out a sudden cry as he pulled out and slammed back in. His thrusts were causing you to have to press your hands painfully into the wall to keep steady. He was not going easy at all.

One of his hands left your hip to wrap around your throat, holding your head back as he drove himself deeper. Your ass was clapping against his pelvis, mixing with the moans and his lewd taunting.

“You little slut, thinking you could hide from me,” he growled, giving a particularly hard thrust. “I thought I taught you better manners than that!”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you keened.

Tony only stalled to yank you away from the wall and whirl you around to the sink, bending you over it before resuming his brutal pace. Your fingers dug into the countertop, as you begged, “Please, please, please.”

“Please what?” Tony husked, his hips snapping.

He was driving deep, brushing your core with precision and you cried out again.

“Please fuck me, make me cum,” you whined in response, drawing a strangled laugh out of Tony.

“Just can’t fucking help yourself, can you?”

You heard the door open from behind the pair of you and your stomach dropped to your feet.

“What the hell is this?” you heard your mum exclaim.

Tony was out of you in a second, stuffing himself back in his pants. You craned your head around mortified, finding your mum staring at the two of you, disbelief splashed across her face.

Her gaze snapped to Tony, suddenly murderous. She slapped him across the face with all the strength she could muster and shrieked, “You absolute piece of fucking shit! She’s a child!”

Tony looked furious at her laying hands on him.

“Now, Rebecca,” Tony said loudly. She went to hit him again, but he was quick, and he pushed her to the wall as you rushed to push your dress down. He had her pinned there by her collarbone.

“Tony!” you pleaded, coming up towards them but he held his hand out, warning you to stay back.

You stopped, looking between the two of them wildly. Your mother only had eyes for him, trying to pull his hand away with no avail.

“Let me go!” your mum demanded, trying to push his hand away but your mother was a very small woman and Tony was so much larger than her. “Are you insane? Do you know what Damien—”

“Are you? Are you insane?” Tony asked dangerously, their noses brushing. She struggled again but he shoved her back again roughly and she finally stilled, glaring murderously at him. His voice was low, “You don’t want trouble with the mob. Running off and telling your husband is only going to cause that. If he loses his temper, they’ll take my side on this and all the power he’s got is going to be compromised because he’ll lose our support. How do you think you two would fare without that support, hmm?” He was searching your mother’s face, who was silent now. He scoffed when he saw she knew what he was saying was right. He dug his hand in again and she only flinched slightly, “And Y/N’s an adult, not a child, as you just so stupidly said. She can make her own fucking choices.”

“Let. Me. Go,” your mother said, enunciating every word. “I got the message.”

Tony only held on for a few more seconds before he pushed away from her. He tore his eyes away from her before saying to you, “I’ll text you later.”

He left the room, leaving the two of you standing there, staring at each other. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you hated the disappointed look on her face. Time seemed to expand into an eternity that the two of you were standing there before she finally spoke.

“How long?” your mother rasped out. You looked at the ground and you felt her gaze boring into you. She demanded louder, “How long, Y/N?”

“Since October,” you said weakly.

“Christ,” she half sobbed. “That’s almost a year, Y/N! What were you thinking?”

You shrugged helplessly, “I… we have a relationship.”

Your mother shook her head and snapped, “You can’t!”

“I love him!”

“Y/N, you don’t know what love is. He’s twice your age! He’s using you!”

“No, he’s not. You don’t know—”

“I know what I know!” your mother exclaimed, causing you to close your mouth. She looked heartbroken, her eyes watering. “I know, Y/N. I know men like him. I’ve dealt with them too! He’s taking your most formative years and weaving himself into them! You can’t let… you can’t let him do that. You can’t build yourself around him.”

“I’m not!”

“I don’t want you to see him.”

“I can make my own choices!” you said firmly.

She scoffed loudly, wiping away tears that had started to fall over. “What would your father think?” Your face screwed up in worry and you started to argue but she cut in forcibly, “I know! I know Y/N! That fucking… bastard is right. I won’t… I can’t say anything.” Her eyes met yours again and she shook her head. “Jesus, Y/N. I can’t look at you right now.”

Jaw clenched, you got the hint and stormed past her to leave and go home, irate and miserable at how the night had turned out.

<><><>

You had still continued to see Tony much to your mother’s disapproval. You meant it when you said you loved him, and you resented your mum telling you that you did not. But after seeing how he had treated her in the pool house, a small part of you was unsure now about the longevity and stability of the relationship. How could you stay together in secret like this forever, especially when he was ready to threaten anyone that tried to separate the two of you?

Unfortunately, you did not get the chance to make the decision for yourself.

“What happened?” you asked concerned, coming up to your mum quickly in their living room. You had come over to have dinner with them, but it did not look like dinner was going to be happening for a while or at all.

Your father was shouting into the phone on the patio, a few of his guys outside with him. There was fury and desperation in the air.

Your mum pulled you aside and said, “Something happened. I mean, obviously. sorry. Um,” she paused, stammering, as your father let out a slew of cuss words. “Um, your dad is trying to get control of the situation. Pull himself clear of it.”

“What situation?”

“There was a… police bust. Some of the men got arrested for… you know, it doesn’t matter what for. But, just let your father do his thing. Stay out of his way. It’s what I’m doing. How about you and me go out and grab food? It’s best for everyone to just let him be.” She paused and then added, “And honestly, this situation is best for you.”

The way she said that…

You knew who had been arrested.

Pulling away from her, you saw her start to say something else, but you turned abruptly, taking off down the hall towards the entrance way where you had left your purse. You dug through it clumsily before getting your phone out and dialing Tony.

His phone went straight to voicemail.

<><><>

~7 years later

You pulled up to your parent’s house seeing the copious amount of cars lined along the driveway. They were having their annual beginning of summer get together and as usual, you were invited as well as your closest friends, so you had people to hang out with. Some of your friends had already arrived, more than comfortable around your parents without you there.

The person that mattered the most to hang out with though was sitting in the passenger seat.

Your husband smiled at you and said, “I am very much ready for your mum’s crab cakes. Well.. you know, Willa’s crab cakes. Your mum just oversees the process.”

You snorted at this and said, “I know you are. And yes that is very true.”

It was hard to try to keep your heartbeat even now that you were here. You were going to have to face him. Tony and the others had just been released days before. You needed to steer clear of him after having ghosted him when he got arrested. You had been young, so young, and he had been sent to a different state for prison. It had been easy to make excuses and your mother had encouraged the excuses.

Your husband would shield you. You would make sure of that.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

#tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #mob tony stark #my shit

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dianapana · 3 years

Text

SH Day 3- Addicted to your touch

Day 3 – Addicted to your touch Separation Anxiety

WARNING: MENTAL ILLNESS

Disclaimer: I am not a therapist, the advice I gave in this piece might be very faulty, please take it with a grain of salt.

Modern AU, OOC

@sasuhinamonth

It all started small, when one day Sasuke announced that he’d be gone for 2 weeks due to work, the news alone made Hinata’s heartache but she smiled and wished him good luck on the project and a safe trip. Each day the feeling of missing him would grow and grow and grow until it was too big for her body to contain, and the feeling turned to pain. Her longing made her physically sick by the end of the second week.

The next stage was composed of excessive calls and texts, Hinata constantly needed to know where he was, what he was doing, whenever he’d take too long to reply the longing would come back and she’d either sink into sadness or lose herself to anger, both feelings she had not experienced much since dating Sasuke. Whenever he’d reply after a longer break, she’d ask him to come over to her house and stay the night.

That was the case on August 3rd. Sasuke came straight to her house after a long day at the office and Hinata ran to hug him, all of the negative feelings almost forgotten the moment she laid her eyes on him. His touch alone made all of her worries disappear. That was the feeling of home, in his arms.

They spent the night normally, eating dinner while watching a movie, changing and going to bed because they both had work in the morning. The issue came with the sunrise, for Hinata refused to let him leave. She cried and begged and screamed the moment he brought up work, she tore his shirt apart reasoning that he couldn’t go to work without one. The moment the white fabric hit the ground; silence fell over the room. Both of them were shocked, unable to speak due to her outburst of emotions.

Her cried aggravated, she fell to her knees and crawled to where he was, hugging his waist, apologizing over and over again. Sasuke was in deep thought, remembering all the small signs over the past month and a half. It hurt him to think that he had hurt her in any way to drive her to this moment, he patted her hair lovingly, took a deep breath and said in a broken voice “I think there’s something wrong Hina”

She looked at him with big round eyes, they were glossy and red, she blinked and looked down at the floor. “There might be…” Sasuke picked her up by her armpits and placed her in his lap, continuing to run his hand through her hair. He continued doing so until she calmed down and fell asleep, her emotions must have exhausted her. He didn’t move her from his lap for fear of waking her up, however, he picked up his phone from the nightstand and send Itachi a message telling him that he will not be going to work, he proceeded to text Kurenai as well informing her of Hinata’s absence at work too.

He spent the following few hours reading about similar situations, which mostly led to the same piece of advice, that a specialist was needed. So, he went on to search for therapists in Konoha, texting them all, asking whether any of them were free that day, two of them didn’t reply, another one was full for the week and could only see them next Wednesday, thankfully the last one agreed to meet with them after closing hours at 8:30.

Having all of that plan, all he needed to do was find a way to approach the topic when talking to Hinata, she had to agree that paying a visit to therapy would do them both good. Hinata had been asleep for about two hours now, so Sasuke took the liberty to move her onto her side of the bed and go to the kitchen to make some food for when she’d get up.

He managed to make scrambled eggs and toast and was about to go and wake her up when a cry of distress came from their room. He hurried to her side, Hinata was holding onto his pillow on the verge of tears.

“You weren’t here when I woke up” Her voice was meek and trembling. “I could hear movement in the kitchen, I knew you were there. So why, why does your absence hurt this much, despite me knowing you are here?”

He wished he had the answer, but he didn’t. He moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed, cupping her face with one hand, slowly brushing the skin under her eye with his thumb. Sasuke leaned in slowly to hiss her nose, cheek, forehead and finally the corner of her mouth. “I think to find out why, we might need some help from the outside” he closed his eyes and sighed, his breath fanning over her lips. “I talked to a man named Iruka, he’s a therapist and agreed to meet with us later today, would you be open to this idea?”

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

Hinata looked at him, searching his eyes and expression for any malice or negative feelings, but there was none, his openness and desire to help led her to agree to his plan, maybe they did need help.

“From what you’ve told me, this is a severe case of separation anxiety,” Iruka said, he looked kind and bore no ill feelings, Hinata had been afraid of the judgmental look he’d give her after hearing about her actions, but his eyes remained warm and understanding. “This usually manifests itself in small children, they are afraid to part from their caregivers even for a moment. In certain cases, it is believed it could appear in pregnant women as well, and usually the caregiver is their partner. Is there any possibility of this being true?”

Both Sasuke and Hinata’s eyes opened wider at the word pregnant, there was most certainly a possibility of that. They were always careful while having sex, however, Hinata was not on birth control, for they affected her badly whenever she took them as a teen so their method of contraception were condoms alone. There’s always the possibility of one breaking, a faulty one, or just them being part of the 0.01% of the population for which condoms did not work perfectly.

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

“I suggest you take a pregnancy test as well. As I mentioned, this is known to happen now and again so do not worry too much; however, this anxiety can affect you negatively” Iruka continued while looking at Hinata “the best way to deal with this is steady growth. In the early stages constant contact is preferred. Think of this as building up trust once again. Constant reassurance is important, always keeping promises, separation needs to happen slowly over time; from constant touch to simply being in the same room but at a safe distance, then being in separate rooms, then Hinata being alone but in a familiar and comfortable space for short periods of time. Of course, this process takes months. For some women the anxiety dies down with the birth, for others in continues after but through steady built of trust it can disappear”

They followed Iruka’s advice and went to Hinata’s gyno the next day and Iruka’s assumption proved to be true, Hinata was indeed pregnant in week 7. They were currently in the first stage of their trust-building, being in the same room, always touching. Hinata sat in his lap while they watched a movie, they held hands whenever they were outside, they’d keep bumping feet under the table as they ate. Sasuke had basically moved into her apartment, neither of them went to work. Sasuke was able to do most of his job remotely, however, Hinata applied for medical time off. Everything was going great, Hinata no longer experienced that painful longing, however, her pregnancy turned out to be a quite difficult one, as soon as they found out she was indeed pregnant, her morning sickness started, she had constant back pain and her appetite was very volatile. They’d often wake up in the middle of the night and drive around the city to find one of her cravings. During a particularly bad night 2 months after, her craving for watermelon in the winter proved difficult, to add to the issue her back pain was excruciating so she could not stay in the car for however long it would take them to find watermelon.

“Do you think…you would be all right if you stayed here and I went to find it for you…?” they had barely moved on from the ‘always touching’ stage, the process was slow but it was there.

“I…don’t know…”

“What do you want me to do Hina? You can’t even sit up properly, being in the car for maybe an hour would we awful, but being here alone would too…but it’s unwise to not follow your cravings either” He was spiralling, the situation was stressful and all he wanted was to be able to help her, he wanted to take her pain away, he wanted to give her everything she’d ever want and more.

“I think, I will be fine” Hinata finally said after thinking for a bit longer. Almost in slow motion, he nodded, ‘ok, ok, ok’ he murmured to himself as he put his winter coat over his pyjamas and stood on the bed to put his boots on. “I’ll go find you watermelon, ok? I will be back as soon as I can. I love you” he kissed her cheek and then the top of her head. She smiled and waved, but the moment his back turned to her, her smile wavered. Would she really be ok…?

Sasuke ran down the stairs to the car, he wanted to be away for as little as possible. He pulled out of the driveway and sped up as much as possible. Firstly, he’d look at the local non-stop supermarket, at the ‘exotic’ or ‘out of season’ shelf, if it wasn’t there he’d go to the local Korean market and buy some watermelon flavoured things, just in case there was nothing else anywhere; before he could think of where he’d go next his phone rang. Seeing Hinata’s name he answered immediately.

“come back…please” she was trying not to cry, he could hear it. He did an illegal U-turn and sped even more towards their apartment “I’m coming, I’ll be there in 5 minutes” Hinata replied with an ‘ok’ however she didn’t hang up, she needed to at least be on the line with him. Sasuke didn’t hang up either, not when we pulled into the driveway, not when he stopped the car, nor when he ran up the stairs. He only hung up when Hinata was in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I could, but you left and I…” she was sobbing so hard it was even difficult to understand her. “It’s ok, it’s not your fault, we moved too fast. Iruka said it’s slow. It’s no problem Hina, we can just start over” If her constantly touching him was what made her feel safe, he’d hold her close until she was ready. No more rushing of things. Once Hinata calmed down, Sasuke called Itachi.

“I’m sorry to wake you up but I need some help…could you look for some watermelon?”

#sasuhinamonth #sasuhina #sasuhina fanfic #shmonth #sasuke #hinata #hinata hyuuga #susake uchiha #hyuuga #uchiha #dia story #diawrites #naruto #day3

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saltymiraculer · 4 years

Text

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 2 of 3)

Ahhhhh, thank you for all the support I’ve gotten on this fic! It is with great pleasure I present to you *trumpet noise* Part 2 of Ceremonial Kisses!

I apologize for the huge wait, and I’m really sorry about my update schedule in general.

Also, you might notice that around the middle of this chapter, the writing gets a little bit choppy, and I’m super sorry about that! My apartment just decided to evict anyone with a cat, and I’m under a lot of stress right now. Thankfully, it gets smoother towards the end!

Happy reading!

Part 1 | Part 3

-🌸-

After ten minutes of gorging themselves on the Chinese equivalents of Kit-Kats and Lays chips, they pulled up to a hotel.

“Whaf, wewen’t we goih to da cashale?“ Nino asked, his mouth stuffed with cookies. Marinette shot him a disgusted look. He swallowed and took a swig of soda. “Wait, weren’t we going to the castle?“

Marinette had been thinking the same thing. This couldn’t be an ancient Chinese palace–it looked like a hotel!

“My instructions have changed. I was informed you would be staying at the Overseas Suites instead.“ The driver (she still didn’t know his name) said, pulling up to the front of the hotel.

As soon as they stepped out, they remembered that time zones existed.

It was 5:00 PM there.

They were going to be up all night.

The driver handed Marinette a gold-embossed business card with a phone number written on it.

“Call me whenever you need a lift, miss Marinette.“ He stepped back into the car and drove off.

Marinette shrugged and stuffed the card in her pocket. “Well, that was weird. Let’s go inside now, it’s freezing.”

As soon as they walked inside, Bustier scurried up to them.

“Where were you? You had me worried sick!“

Before anyone could say anything, the chauffeur from earlier appeared.

“I am Marinette’s uncle, ma’am. I heard she was going to be staying in China for a week and I just had to see her. The school was informed that I would be picking her and her friends up.“

“Oh–well–you still should have told me where you were going!“

“But shouldn’t you have already known?“ Marinette asked sweetly. “I mean, you were informed of it, weren’t you?“

Ha. She had her there!

“W-well, yes, technically, I was…but it’s time to go to your rooms! Off you go, everybody!“

“Oh, wait, I’m sharing a room with Marinette, right?“ Alya asked.

“Yeah, I think so.“

“Shit. Guys, I’ve got to share a room with Adrien. Say your prayers, ‘cause I don’t know if I’ll make it out alive.“

Oh, right. I guess it’s time to explain.

Adrien had stayed with his “high road” approach, but not in the way that she had expected. He started treating Lila to lunch, buying her jewelry, asking her to school dances, the whole shebang.

But it was all so forced that nobody believed any of it, and one day, all the ‘affection’ had just stopped.

Lila milked it for all it was worth, blaming Marinette and Nino and Alya, and the president of some far-off African country, and Adrien...

Something changed.

His face was more gaunt and his cheeks were more hollow, and he barely ever talked to anyone, just shrugged them off and turned away.

He was, to put it frankly, terrifying.

Which was not good for Nino at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, class, but Ivan will be sharing a room with Nino. Adrien and Nathaniel will be roommates.“

All three of them heaved a sigh.

“Okay, so I’m sleeping tonight, that’s a plus.“ Nino joked. “What are we doing for dinner?“

“Um, I think Bustier said there was food already in the rooms. There are kitchenettes and, like, boxes of pasta and stuff. The trip was sponsored by–“ Marinette suddenly froze. She was contemplating how to finish her sentence when Alya finished it for her.

“–By your family, right?“

“Yeah. It feels so weird to say that, like–me? A princess? I’d probably trip over my own dress.“

“I know what you mean, girl. Now, let’s go get some food.“

After scurrying back up to their respective rooms and scarfing down some fettuccine, they fell asleep almost immediately, despite it being only about 3:00 in Paris.

Which, in hindsight, was probably why they woke up at two in the morning and started eating Cheerios with chocolate milk.

“Marinette, it’s so early!“ Alya said, stretching her arms towards the ceiling. “What should we do until it’s time for the first tour?“

“Wanna play Uno?“

And play Uno they did, a six-round monstrosity that lasted five hours and many draw-four cards.

There was a knock on the door and they both whipped around. “Girls, are you awake yet?“ a muffled voice asked. “You have to be down in the lobby in ten minutes!”

Alya and Marinette looked at each other. “Shit!” they yelled, jumping up and grabbing clothes out of drawers. They took the elevator down to the lobby after getting dressed, only to face something that made them wish they hadn’t.

Lila.

“And since the princess was so touched by what I did for her, she told me that she’d grant me any favor!“

“So…what was the favor?“ Mylene asked, inching closer.

“I asked her to bring our class on this trip, of course! Because I love my friends–unlike some people.“ She tilted her head in Marinette and Alya’s direction.

“When did you get here? Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?“ Kim shouted.

A few of them turned pink and tried to turn away.

“No, but I’m sure we’ll hear plenty of other horrible things about ourselves from you guys on this trip.“ Marinette said.

“Oh, get over yourselves! Lila’s the one who got us here, and she can kick you out just as easily. Right, Lila?“

“Of course! Marinette, I really want to be friends, but after the way you’ve treated everyone, it’s only fair I had to do what I did!“

“Oh? And what exactly did you do?“ Alya challenged, putting her hands on her hips. Alix smirked and nudged Kim with her elbow.

“Let’s just say…some of the tours might not be for you.“ Sabrina interjected, swiping something on a familiar white tablet. Marinette’s eyes widened. “Did you steal Bustier’s tablet just so you could take us off the tours? You risked suspension for that?!”

“Well, Mari-nette, you should be surprised to know that some people are willing to take risks for their friends.“ Kim snapped over his shoulder, earning many a nod from Lila’s entourage.

“Kids!“ Bustier yelled, startling them all. “What are you doing with my tablet?“

“Um–uh_Marinette stole it and threw it to us!“ Lila replied nervously.

Everyone turned to Marinette. “Marinette, I expect better from you! You just earned yourself a week of detention when we get back to Paris.“ She whisked the tablet out of Sabrina’s arms before Marinette could protest, and turned around, taking a deep breath.

When she faced the class again, she had a smile back on her face.

“Okay! Today, we will be touring a replica of one of the ancient Chinese palaces. Please behave yourselves.“

She started walking out, and the class followed her, Alya and Marinette tagging behind. Nino joined them soon after.

“So, that was weird.“

“No kidding.“

Once they had stepped off the bus in front of the palace, everyone stopped. Of course, they had all done a bit of googling about the places they would visit, but seeing everything live and in person was taking it to a whole new level.

“Whoa,“ they whispered. Even Lila, who wanted nothing more than to break something, was dumbfounded by this wonder of architectural beauty.

Miss Bustier was the one to break the silence. Clearing her throat, she said “Well, shall we head inside?”

As they shuffled inside, Marinette secretly wished she had about eight more eyes so she could take in everything she was seeing. But she had to be on high alert, Lila and her crew were sure to pull something nasty.

“Ah, and this,“ Bustier gasped. “This is one of the things I was looking most forward to seeing.

“As you all know, the princess will be coronated soon, and this is exactly why I wanted to take you here. This is a replica of an ancient Chinese coronation hall, isn’t it breathtaking?“

Lila snapped out of her trance and elbowed Kim, whispering something in her ear that made both of them snicker.

“Hey, Marinette!“ he yelled, running up to her. “What are you doing?“ Marinette watched in horror as he pushed a porcelain vase off of a pedestal, backing away immediately so she was the only one in the area.

Everything seemed to go in slow-motion after that.

Everyone in the room turning to them.

Lila’s grin turning up towards her ears in an almost Grinch-like fashion.

Marinette diving to catch the delicate artifact and balancing it in one hand just before it smashed on the floor.

Security appearing to lecture them.

“Now, miss, what you did was punishable by law,“ one of them said. “And by nature I’ll have to ask you and your whole gang to leave, if you don’t want the royal family to press charges.“

“The-the royal family?“ Lila squeaked. Marinette sighed and stood up.

“I’m sorry, sir,“ she said, hanging her head.

“Wait just a second!“ Someone in the crowd yelled. “That guy in the red hoodie pushed it–I saw it with my own two eyes! The girl saved the vase!“

“Yeah, why don’t you go check the security cameras? I’m sure the girl was the one who stopped it from breaking!“

“No, no, I’m quite sure I saw Marinette push the vase.“ Bustier interrupted. “She’s quite the troublemaker, and it wouldn’t be inconceivable for that to happen.“

“I’m terribly sorry, miss, but only once we review the security footage can we make a decision.“

They left with a promise to return as soon as they were done, and everyone started at Marinette.

Nino was the first to speak.

“Alright, who’s gonna fess up? Marinette didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, Alya didn’t do it. So who did?“

Marinette saw the look on Lila’s face. There was no wriggling out of this one.

“Kim did it! I saw…he tried to warn Marinette about a huge bug, but she had this evil look on her face and moved out of the way…and Kim accidentally pushed the vase.“

“What?! That never happened.“ Nino said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I was there the whole time, and there weren’t any bugs.“ Alya said, leaning against a wall. “Give it up, Lila. The security guys’ll be back in a minute.“

“Actually, we’re already here.“ said a deep voice. “The boy’ll need to come with us.“

“Oh, please don’t!“ Bustier cried. “He’s only a kid, he didn’t know any better!“

-🌸-

“I’m sorry, miss, but the security footage suggests otherwise. Though, if you pay a fine, all charges will be dropped.“

“What’s the amount?“ She asked nervously, pulling out her checkbook and hoping euros would translate into whatever the Chinese currency was.

“794.71 yuan.”

“Do you take euros?“ Caline asked weakly. Nino glared at her, and several of her students looked dumbfounded.

“You didn’t bring Chinese money…on a trip to China?! Even Kim brought some!“

Kim suddenly looked scared. “I don’t have to give up my money, do I?”

She sighed. “No, you don’t. If anything, Marinette should be the one paying. How much is that in euros?“

“100, I believe. We do take euros, if you’ll follow me.“ She sighed and shrugged.

“Kids, please don’t push anything else over. I’ll be right back.“

-🌸-

As soon as Bustier hurried away after leading them outside, everyone glared at Marinette except Alya and Nino. Lila still didn’t understand why they had left her, Alya had just stormed up to her one day and yelled, but that was besides the point.

“Marinette, how could you blame this all on Kim? Now Miss Bustier has to pay eight hundred euros!“ Lila cried, earning Marinette a few glares.

She smirked inwardly. Now, if only she could have gotten Marinette arrested…

“Eight hundred yuan, Lila. It’s only a hundred euros, and besides, it would have cost much more if Marinette hadn’t caught the vase.“ Nino said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, but she’s gonna call my mom. Do you know how long she’s gonna ground me for? Thirty years!“

“Marinette, what is wrong with you?“ Alix accused. “You seriously need an attitude adjustment. And I think I know just what we need to adjust.“ She whispered something into Lila’s ear and smirked.

“But hey, all disagreements aside, do you want a drink?“ Lila asked, shoving Marinette backwards. She stumbled a bit, and Nino and Alya tried to stop her, but she fell back into a large fountain and emerged a second later, sopping wet.

Her hair had come out of the bun, her makeup was running, and her clothes were soaked through.

Everything was going according to plan. “Oh, Marinette, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to…I was only trying to squish a mosquito!”

“Mosquito?“ Marinette seethed through gritted teeth. Her expression was terrifying.

Lila backed away, as did most of the class. “This was one-of-a-kind, Lila. You ruined it. Chloé should know!“

Everyone turned to Chloé for an answer to the nonexistent question. “I didn’t get her that shirt on purpose! My mom did!” She yelled, ducking into a bathroom. Lila shrugged.

“Marinette!“ Bustier screamed, appearing at just the right time. “What are you doing?!”

Lila interrupted Marinette before she could even speak. “Marinette was trying to push me into the fountain, but I dodged.“ She glanced to the side, where Nino was helping Marinette dry off with handfuls of paper towels. She frowned, then looked over at Alya.

Bad idea.

“Miss Bustier, I have a question. Why would Marinette, one of the most non-violent people we know, try to push Lila into a fountain? Especially after she was just proven innocent? Do you really think that she would compromise her innocence like that?“

Miss Bustier looked alarmed. Lila gritted her teeth–she would have to lay low for a while if she wanted anyone to believe that Marinette would do anything wrong.

They're such idiots, she thought to herself. I’ve got practically the whole class under my thumb.

“Lila? Are you coming? We’re going back to the hotel so nothing else gets damaged.“ She shot a pointed look at Marinette, who was dripping all over the floor.

“O-of course, Miss!“

They caught a bus back to their resort, and Lila was delighted to see that Nino’s efforts had come to no avail trying to distance Marinette from the older men who approached her from behind.

-🌸-

“Marinette, I can’t believe that little liar.“ Alya said, seething. “She must be getting cocky. Like a game of ‘catch me if you can.’ She’ll have to lay off you for a few days if she wants anything to be believable, though.“

Marinette was toweling off her hair, deep in thought.

“This isn’t like her. Normally, she would stop after the vase and lay off for the rest of the day, maybe badmouth me a little at dinner, but know when to quit.“

“Well, I think you should just bop her in the head with your yo-yo.“ Alya added.

“Agreed!“ Trixx squeaked.

“I don’t normally condone using the Miraculous for selfish purposes, but I’ll let this one slide. You know what to do, Marinette! Get those spots on!“

“Guys,“ Marinette sighed, tossing the towel onto her bed. “That’s not the point. I just want a peaceful few days before I have to deal with her again. Is that too much to ask?“

“Not at all, Marinette!“ Tikki said, nuzzling her cheek. “Just know that I’m always here if you need me!“

“Thanks,“ she whispered.

Two Glorious, Lila-free days later...

“So, Marinette, it’s your free day!” Tikki chirped, patting Marinette’s face. “What do you want to do?”

“Sleep,“ she grumbled.

“No, silly! I mean after you visit your family!“

Marinette bolted upright. “What?!”

“You didn’t remember? You’re supposed to meet your biological parents today for brunch at 10.“

“And what time is it now?“ She asked, jumping out of bed to see if Alya was awake.

“5:30.“

“So I only have four hours to get ready?! That’s not nearly enough!“

“Marinette...? Why are you up so early...?“ Alya mumbled sleepily.

“I’m meeting my family!“ she squawked.

Alya sat up and put on her glasses. “Oh. Want me to help you get ready?“ she asked, walking over to the kitchenette for a glass of water.

“That would be great. Now, can you hurry up!?“

Alya took a long sip. “Calm down, Marinette. Do you want them to think you’re nervous all the time? You don’t want that in a princess. Take a deep breath.“ Marinette glared. Taking a deep breath, she focused on how tranquil she would be.

Her mom would probably be there. Wait–mom–not really her mom, but who she...used to think her mom was? Agh, now she was nervous again!

“So, Marinette, what do you want to wear? Something more traditional, or something that’s a little more...you?“ Alya asked, setting her empty cup down on the counter.

“I don’t want to offend them by just wearing, like, a nice blouse and jeans...but I don’t want to overdress. What do I do?“

Alya munched on a bagel thoughtfully. “Do you still have that qipao dress from a few months ago? The pretty pink one with cherry blossoms on it?“

Marinette nodded and pulled a blur of pink fabric out of her suitcase. She shut the bathroom door, and when she came out a second later, she thought that maybe she actually had a chance to make a good first impression.

On her mom.

Hoo boy.

-🌸-

When Marinette stepped out of the bathroom, Alya immediately started squealing. “Marinette, you look perfect!”

The outfit was simple, no more than a short-sleeved, a-line dress if not for the neckline, which resembled a traditional qipao, adorned with tiny embroidered flowers.

Marinette twirled around. “You like it? I was thinking of wearing those light pink heels. What do you think?”

“Do it.“

🌸 at brunch because op sucks 🌸

“Good morning, miss. Where are you headed today?“

Marinette glanced down at the little card in her hands. “The east dining room, please.”

The man at the desk raised his eyebrows so high they were in danger of disappearing into his curly grey hair. “Right this way, your Royal Highness.” he said, pointing her towards an entryway with a significantly fancier arch than the rest.

She walked down a seemingly endless hallway, wondering when she would get to eat, when the narrow room exploded into a dining room larger than her house.

“Ah, hello…Marinette.“ a peaceful voice greeted her. “I’ve been waiting for you!“

“Hi.“ was all she managed to squeak out. The lady in front of her was stunningly beautiful, with black hair that fell in a curtain down to her waist, wearing nearly the same dress as her, but in what looked like red silk.

“Sit, please!“ she said eagerly. “I’d love to get to know you.“

Marinette awkwardly positioned herself in ont of the high-backed chairs.“Okay.“

The lady sat on the chair opposite from her. “My name is Fei. I’m so sorry to have just...left you with my cousin for years, but I really do hope you can forgive me. This is all a bit hectic–trust me, I know–but I believe that if we can get along, this will go smoothly. What do you say?”

Fei had a warm smile, but there was a nervous undertone to her words. She had felt that way before, and a new feeling coursed through her body. Marinette moved forwards forwards and hugged her. “I’d like that.”

She seemed surprised at first, but hugged her back immediately but then let go almost as fast. “Look, I’m just ecsatic, about this, but if it’s uncomfortable calling me ‘mom’, or anything else, I need you to know that it’s okay. You can call me Fei, you can call me mom, you can call me māmā, anything you want. Okay?”

“Thank you.“ Marinette said, looking down. “It’s nice to know I have you. I think it’ll take a while for me to…adjust, but I’m so happy to know that you’re okay with that. Now, can we stop being so serious and eat?“

She beamed. “That sounds great, Marinette!”

After a few minutes of slightly awkward eating, Marinette cleared her throat. “So, other than the whole coronation thing, are there any other princess-y things I’ll have to do while I’m here?”

Fei choked on her water. “Actually…” she coughed. “I’m glad you asked. See, this is only day three of your 10-day trip. We need to get outfits, jewelry, speeches, everything prepared, and I don’t know if we’ll be able to do it all in time.”

Marinette was soeechless. This was unexpected.

“But that’s not all. I have to intruduce you to my mother, my husband, the whole royal family. “ She was sounding increasingly stressed with each sentence. “Everything has to be taken into account.“

“Hey, it’ll be okay!“ Marinette assured. “Things happen. They’ll sort themselves out. I promise.“

“I know. I have to be calm and levelheaded, or else my mom will take over. If that happens, you’ll end up naked at your coronation, or worse, if my husband takes responsibility, he’ll give it to my mom three days later. Do you know what I mean?“

Marinette nodded. “I know, but sometimes things will just happen. But other times, you have to work for them, you know? As long as you don’t give up on it, it will work out. I promise.”

“Hah–usually I’m the one giving the pep talks. Thank you, Marinette, I-I really needed that. How about you go and…meet up with some of your friends? No use in talking to a boring old lady any longer. Go on!“ she said, motioning towards the door.

Marinette turned back and smiled. “Um...bye, I guess!” she murmured, waving.

-🌸-

“So, Alya, when’s Mari getting back from breakfast with her peeps?” Nino asked as they walked down the street.

“I don’t know. I’ll text. If she replies, she’s free. If she doesn’t, she’s still the–“

“Hey guys, what’d I miss?“ Marinette asked, appearing in front of them. he screamed. “Where did you come from?“

“Brunch.“

“Marinette? You’re already done? We were about to go check out some of the tourist shops.“ Alya remarked, scrolling through something on her phone. Nino rolled his eyes.

“We were going to text you, but since you’re already here, what do you want to do?“ he questioned. Marinette fidgeted with her dress.

“Actually, that sounds fun. Which ones were you thinking?“

“Um, there’s actually one right there.“ Nino said, pointing around her to a shop with neon signs covering the whole window. “It looks fun.“

“So let’s go!“

They walked into the shop, the door jingling cheerfully behind them, and immediately things started catching their eyes. “Oh. My. God. Nino, are you seeing these?” Alya blurted. “They have Carapace merch. We’re world famous!”

Marinette was examining a bracelet with plastic rhinestones on it. “This looks like the bracelet from yesterday’s museum. Isn’t it pretty?” She dug through the bin. “Oh, they have other replicas, too? Awesome.”

Nino walked around, perusing the shelves, not really finding anything that sparked his interest. He picked up a trinket here and there, maybe checked a price tag, but wasn’t very interested. But then he saw it.

“An authentic OctoInk ‘I ain’t callin’ you a truther’ t-shirt? The printing block had an extra line, and only 47 of these were made!“

“Dude.“ Alya and Marinette whispered simultaneously.

“Um, how much is this shirt?“ Nino asked innocently, showing it to the girl at the register. She looked up uninterestedly, blowing a bubble with her gum.

“8 yuan.“ She scoffed. “Like that thing would sell for any more.“

“Hey, this is a nearly one-of-a-kind piece that–mmph!“

“Don’t tell her it’s supposed to be expensive!“ Alya hissed in his ear. “That’s the opposite of what you do!“

Wayzz poked him from his pocket. “She is not wrong, Nino. Purchase the shirt for eight yuan, if it makes you so happy.”

“I’ll take it.“ he said. Marinette put her bracelet on the register with an ‘eh, what the heck?‘ sort of expression. Alya placed a tiny glass turtle on the counter, and Nino felt a flush spreading over his face.

Alya smiled.

-🌸-

“So, Marinette, why did you get that bracelet?“ Alya asked once they had left the shop. “It looks pretty real, but you have way nicer jewelry at home. Like the necklace you wore this morning?“

“Yeah, but this one looks like the one from the museum. I know it seems silly, but it feels special.“ she said, twisting it around her wrist.

“Nah, I get it. And speaking of special, here comes a special little liar.“

Marinette’s head straightened immediately. “Aw, shit. And here I was thinking this would be a nice day.“

“Oh, hello, Marinette!“ Lila purred, snaking into the space between Nino and her. “I love your bracelet. It looks expensive…“ and with that, she sauntered away, all other interactive possibilities completely wasted.

“Well, that went better than I’d hoped.“ Nino chuckled.

“Ooh, Nino, there’s an art gallery! Want to check it out?“

“Sure thing, babe!“ He turned to Marinette. “Wanna come?“

“You can go without me, I’m going to get a bite to eat.“

“But–didn’t you just get back from–never mind.“ They walked into the gallery, chatting about who-knows-what.

Marinette spun around, and immediately someone on a blue bike yelled a split second before they knocked her over.

“Aaaack, my bike!” A male voice yelled. Marinette tried to open her eyes and stood up. A pale boy with bangs that hung over his eyes stared at her. “Sorry, I guess…”

Marinette stared back. “Okay?” she whispered. Maybe it wasn’t going to be a free day after all.

Just as she was about to ask for his name, her stomach growled like an angry Godzilla.

He chuckled.

“You wanna grab a bite? I know a place.“

“Sure. What’s your name?“

“Jianyu.“

“Marinette.“

He opened the door to a little sandwich restaurant and walked in, but let it swing shut behind him in Marinette’s face. Rude. Once they were seated and Marinette was starting to get a little annoyed at him–it was like he didn’t even notice her–he decided it was time to order.

Jianyu snapped at one of the waitresses to get her attention and whistled to get her to come over. She walked over with a pained expression on her face, then plastered on a smile.

“How may I help you today?“

“I’ll have pork dumplings and a Pepsi, the lady’ll have the chicken salad.“

“Actually, I was going to get–“ Marinette started.

“Sorry, sweetheart.“ he said, shoving the waitress away and turning back to her. “But why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself while she’s gone?“

I know that when I’m crowned princess, I’ll kick your scrawny ass, she thought. But she didn’t say that–in fact, she didn’t say anything, just got up from her chair and knocked Jianyu’s water glass down his front.

She swept out of the store before she could hear his cursing.

Yeah, that date was over.

And–being Marinette–as soon as she stormed out of the restaurant, she slammed into a cute girl with her wavy black hair in a ponytail, wearing leggings and a red hoodie.

“Oh, no, are you alright?“ she gasped, checking Marinette over for injuries.

“I’m fine.“ Marinette grumbled. She wasn’t in the mood to meet anyone else she bumped into, not if they were going to be like him.

“You don’t sound fine. I’m Chuntao.“

“Oh–um, I’m Marinette. Little tip, don’t go in there unless you like being catcalled.“

Chuntao frowned. “Hm. I think my brother told me he was going there for lunch–I wouldn’t put it past him to do that.“ She walked in and came out a second later, dragging Jianyu out by the ear.

“What do you have to say for yourself?“

“Marinette!“ he shouted. “I didn’t do anything! Back me up!“

“You called me ‘sweetheart’.“

“Mom’s gonna kick your ass,“ Chuntao growled, letting go of Jianyu’s ear. He scampered away, and she turned back to Marinette, rubbing her temples.

“I’m so sorry for him, but you seem like a really cool person. Can I get your number?“

“Y-yeah, totally!“ Marinette swapped phones with Chuntao, slightly dazed. She handed her phone back and waved.

“Thanks, Marinette! Text me later!“ She yelled, jogging away.

“See you…”

“So, who was that?“ Alya asked, appearing at her shoulder.

“Waugh! Alya! You know…maybe we should sit down first.“

-🌸-

“So…what if I’m gay?“

Alya and Nino simultaneously choked on their drinks.

Alya dabbed at her face with a napkin. “Marinette, darling, may I know the circumstances that have led you to entertain this line of inquiry? Because what the fuck?”

“Tell me all about her.” Nino said, resting his chin in his hands.

“Well, she saved me from a really sucky dude,“

“Hm. So she’s already a nice person.“ Alya remarked.

“And she’s super pretty,“

“So are you, honestly. But that’s off-topic.“

“And I haven’t had a real crush on a boy, like, ever,“

“And you went out with Kagami a few months ago, too. That settles it, Marinette! You are most definitely likely probably gay!“ Nino announced, raising his virgin Piña Colada in a toast.

Alya clinked her Shirley Temple against Marinette’s glass. “So, Marinette, it’s your free day. Only 48 hours until the coronation. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, I d–“

“Hands in the air!“ an amplified voice screamed. “You’re under arrest!“

Tags: @professionalfangirl1738 @kuroko26 @k-poplunardreams @smolplantmum @heaven428 @briareris @dnsakina @purplesundaze @bloodydragon000 @mimika-28 @strawberrycheesecakebar @k-laconia-bug1@kristycocopop @abrx2002 @wannajointhecrabcult @mochegato @lozzybowe @ozwaltwashere @flufflepuffle296 @fandom-trapped-03 @nanakeid @hetalia-lover-is-here @futursworld @pale-lady-dreamer @susiej1118 @lostinthewrongfandom @fantasyfandommaiden @aestheticnpoetic @feliciakainzofspades @schrodingers25 @echpr

#ml salt #ml salt fic #marinette dupain cheng #marinette deserves better #alya sugar #nino sugar #lila salt #lila bashing #ish #adrien salt #adrien bashing #again ish #marinette the princess of china #chuntao song #miraculous salt #miraculous ladybug #class salt #the kwamis just kinda dont exist in this chapter #~gone~

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