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#realistically if I wait out the next ten minutes I won’t have enough time to get any from the shop and be back in time off my break
zibah-ho · 1 year
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Staring down a puddle to avoid smoking again like a white man in a shitty movie
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 3 months
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Making Up
quinn hughes x nhl player!reader
warning: suggestive, mention of food (i think, i dont ever remember what i write after its done)
word count: 1.8 k
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Usually, as in every other year, Y/n looked forward to training camp; it meant a year was starting, and with that a new start. Yet all she could think about the few months was how she so desperately hoped that training camp could be farther and farther away. But this year was different. Just like last year was different. All because she slept with Quinn once, well more than once but the first time was the inciting incident. 
But before the end of last season, with their ‘break up’ if you could even call it that, given they never dated. And since then Y/n has done a large amount of self-reflection, this came about when over the summer she had a weird feeling, one she’s only had after she leaves her family for the season. She was homesick, homesick for Quinn. 
She missed him so much, missed how he would hold her at night, and leave small kisses all over her body, she missed feeling his weight on her while they cuddled. She missed him. She wanted him. 
The woman hasn’t seen Quinn for four months, and they had barely talked after their ‘break up’, avoiding all chances during their last few games, and though she couldn’t be more happy and proud of him, the man now being the captain only made everything worse. If he was anything but captain, she could get away with avoiding him a lot easier. But life has never gone easy on her.
- Just as expected, training camp went terribly. Well, that’s an exaggeration, she did great, just not well Quinn was her partner, or next to her, or in her eye sight. And realistically, she was probably the only one to notice. Except for Quinn, he always noticed. But he was also in the same situation of not playing that great when Y/n was involved. 
So after practice, on their way out, Quinn ran to catch up with the girl just as she was getting in her car, he mutters, “Meet me at my house, we have to talk.”
His deep voice, being a small shock, having not seen him coming. And feeling his warm breath on her neck, and his voice in her ears brought up memories. Ones that her body had a physical reaction to being brought up in her brain. The rosy colour rising in her cheeks, and throat becoming dry.
-
Gaining the courage to finally knock on Quinn’s door, it opens before she can finish the third knock. Quinn no doubt waited on the other side, waiting for the woman to finally knock after standing out there for far too long.
“Hey.” “Hi.”
Standing in the awkwardness for enough time, Quinn walked out of the entrance way and towards his kitchen, Y/n assumes she’s supposed to follow so she does. Walking into the familiar room, looking around and seeing no changes in the decorations, or lack thereof. Quinn then passes the girl a beer, the cap already off. Quinn knew she hated twist off because they made the palm of her hand sore, so he always did it for her. Even now. 
“We have to have it out. We have to have everything out in the open. Or we won’t be able to play together like we used to.” “I agree.”
After standing in the awkwardness once again, Quinn decided that for once he was going to be bold and say what he truly felt, and what he truly wanted, “I love you. And that’s not gonna change.” Taking a sip of her beer, feeling she’ll need it for this, the woman listened as Quinn continued, “I love everything about you. Even the things I hate, and that annoy me, I love. I love how competitive you are, not even in sports, just in everyday things; just that you can unlock the door faster than me, so if Micheal Myers was chasing us you would survive and I wouldn’t. And I love the face you have when you’re tired, but you don’t want to admit it, just for you to fall asleep ten minutes into a movie you fought me over to watch. I love that you’re adamant on only having tomatoes once in your life, when I have seen you eat spaghetti and pizza more than once before-""It’s not the same ""-I love you, Y/n. All of you.”
Tears trickled down the woman’s face, tickling as they went down her neck. Because, fuck she thinks she really loves him too. And that was still really scary to say, but she would get over it for him. Because he wouldn’t hurt her like the other guys, he cared for her, and paid attention to the little things, and god, he was perfect. She couldn’t imagine a future without him. She was always on the fence about kids, but he wanted them, she would give him them.Wiping the tears away, looking into Quinn’s eyes, ones she’s missed so dearly.
“I think I love you too.I’ve only said that to someone once before and my love was taken for granted, so it’s been hard for me to give it out. But Quinny, you’ve never given me a reason to not completely trust you, and I think that’s what I was scared of. But I love you, and I don’t think it will ever change either.”
Swiftly, Quinn brings the girl into a deep, and passionate kiss, one they put all of their love for each other into. Y/n bring her hands to the nape of Quinn’s neck, grabbing the hair in her fist, pulling slightly; eliciting a groan from the boy, while he brings his hands from her waist to her hips to her thighs, lifting her and taking her to the couch. His hands now at the hem of the woman’s shirt, beginning to lift it over her head, before Y/n interrupts and he stops instantly.
“Wait- I don’t want this to be like last time. I don��t want the miscommunication, and the friends-with-benefits thing. I want you. I want to be with you.” “Glad we’re on the same page then.” He says, leaning his head down to kiss the woman’s jaw, and down to the spot she loves on her neck. 
“Quinny. So, what does that mean for us?” Quinn, now seeing this wasn’t going fast sits next to the girl, “Y/n. Will you be my girlfriend?” “How would that affect the team, and us playing together, what will people think? I mean- they’ll blame me, ‘first girl in the league, and she goes and dates her captain’ it will look bad. And-” “Y/n, stop thinking. Do you want to be my girlfriend, ‘cause I want to be your boyfriend. A lot.” “Of course! Of course I want to. But-” “Then why are we thinking about what other people will think?”
Quinn would never truly understand. No matter how hard he tries, no man will understand. What people will say. How they’ll think of every reason to hate her and add this to the list. But never will they hate Quinn for it, no. And she knows that Quinn is trying to help, saying not to care what other people think, but it’s hard when if she looks up her own name, everything that comes up is how ‘she doesn’t deserve to be in the league’ or that ‘she doesn’t work hard enough’ even though she is the first in the gym and the last to leave, she gets to the games first, always pushing herself but it was never good enough.
“People will hate me.”
“Y/n, you are the strongest person I know, if any of the guys got the amount of hate you do, they would have quit by now. You don’t let their words make you quit, you push yourself harder. I love you. And I don’t care what those people say, they’re just sexist bastards. You deserve to be happy, and I want to make you happy. Don’t let them take that away.”
That was what she needed to hear. She still had concerns of course, but her happiness will come first and they’ll cross the bridges as they come. Because Quinn was right. Letting those people stop her from living her life, only gave them what they wanted and her nothing. At that a large grin, from ear to ear, spreads on Y/n’s face. 
“I love you.” “I love you too. How ‘bout I show you how much I love you?” “Please, Quinny.”
-
Their naked bodies were now tangled in the bed sheets, Y/n turned her head and gently placed her chin on Quinn’s bare and muscular chest. Just looking at him, his eyes staring into the ceiling gave the woman a chance to observe the changes in him, his new stubble length, and his hair styled differently. Still as handsome as ever.
“It’s rude to stare.” “You don’t know I’m staring, you can’t see me.” “There’s mirrors over there.”
Looking at where Quinn pointed with his chin, there were in fact the mirrors of his closet door that gave him a great few of her face, and their bodies intertwined. 
“Fine. You caught me.” Y/n said, bringing a mischievous smirk to Quinn’s face, his hands now moving from the woman’s back to her sides, Quinn knowing that’s where she is ticklish. The woman squirming on top of him (for the second time today) now screaming out (for the second time today)
“Ahhh! Quinny! Ah stop! Wait, I have to talk- ah! Talk to you!”
His hands stopping, and coming to rub up and down on her sides, “‘Bout what?” Y/n can hear the mild concern in his voice and not wanting to worry him says a quick ‘nothing bad’ before sitting up and continuing her sentence, “I just want to talk so we’re on the same page about.. How this will affect the team and if we’ll tell them, and you’re the captain now so you have to put the team first and I never want to put you in that situation.”
“We’re not gonna affect the team.” “You don’t know that.” “Did it before?” “...That was different. And when we ended things it did.” “Well I don’t plan on ending things. Do you?” Y/n’s hands move to the sides of Quinn’s neck, tilting his head up to look at her, “I don’t plan on ending things.” “Good.” Quinn says, a smile on his face while leaning up to press a soft kiss on Y/n’s lips, then on her jaw before falling back against his pillows.
“Do you want to tell the guys?” “Not yet.” “Then let’s not worry about it. Just see how it goes before we tell them.” “Okay.” Leaning down, Y/n rests her head on Quinn’s bare chest once again, hearing his steady heartbeat and the warmness of his chest, warming her ear.
“And don’t give me special treatment in practice.” “I would never. If anything I would push you harder ‘cause I know that’s what works for you.” “Good.”
~taglist~
@books-hlmc
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no-droids · 3 years
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Ask Me Again Tomorrow
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gif credit @pedros-pascal​
Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 16.3K
Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!
A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you.  Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!
***
Headstart—12:17pm:
The sky is so pretty.  There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky.  It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.
You should probably be running.  Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk.  It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs.  Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day.  You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow.  So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.
You know what your goal is.  Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you.  Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day.  Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob.  He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.
That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him?  At what point does it stop?  You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.
You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance.  There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now.  You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.
“Excuse me!”  It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”
She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile.  “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came.  “Osiruu is a few hours that way.  There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital.  I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction.  “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view.  I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”
So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted.  You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then.  Which path should you take?
Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her.  But then all of a sudden, you remember something.
Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo.  Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people.  Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring.  But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists.  The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.
You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be.  Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life.  You never pictured yourself as the fighting type.  When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that.  Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.
“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?”  You ask her, and she shakes her head.
“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile.  “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”
Your footprints will lead directly there.  He’ll find you easily.
“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile.  Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend.  “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey!  I hope we meet again.”
“Do you need any food or supplies?”  She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by.  “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II.  I’d be glad to help.”
Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady?  She seems like… you, almost.  Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs.  You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.
“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet.  “Wanna trade shoes with me?”
***
Headstart—6:12pm:
You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible.  You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad?  Are you just an idiot with no hope?  You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes?  You’re screwed.
At least there’s food here.  Plenty.  There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business.  Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong.  There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.
It’s a lovely tune.  You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors.  Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic.  The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is.  Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.  You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.
Suddenly you see shoes—yes.  Fucking shoes, your salvation.  You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many.  Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design.  It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear.  Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.
“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up?  And another that’s the same but in men's?”
The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper.  His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.
Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder?  One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to?  That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that.  You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.
When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist.  There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss.  Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.
Alright then.  Through the forest, you suppose.  You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again.  You have a finger point, that’s all you need.  Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.
***
Headstart—6:58pm:
A bus.
You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over.  It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.
“Last call for the seven o’clock!”  A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach.  “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”
The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it.  “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.
“Ah!”  The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors.  He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit.  “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”
“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle.  “Oh, no.  I think I lost my wallet.”
He sighs.  “Off the bus then please, miss.  Come back tomorrow if you find it.”
You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off.  “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”
The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions.  “I’m sorry?  Please—off the bus.”
“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier.  The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them.  “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”
“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste.  Everyone is polite here, it seems.  “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place.  Please get off the bus.”
“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.
Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self.  Eliminate the need for a back pathing.  All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers.  You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do.  You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.
Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink.  You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left.  You want him to see the sky.
***
Headstart—9:34pm
The forest here is different from Naboo, too.
Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one.  The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all.  No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together.  You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.
Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches.  Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell.  It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then.  Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.
The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide.  The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind.  You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds.  Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway.  How do you lose him?
You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated.  Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack.  There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick.  Sturdy.
You’ve… never climbed a tree before.
Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up.  Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck.  It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.
Oof, this is dangerous.  You know it even before you start.  The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.
Okay.  Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need.  You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn.  If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?
You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.
***
Headstart—11:37pm:
Water.
A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty.  You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again.  This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.
And it was fun.
You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot.  You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.
Water, though.  Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be.  Water is an eroder.  Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.
Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees.  You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain.  The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it.  You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can.  It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.
That means you’re… fuck.  You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?
It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water.  The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall.  You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go.  With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it.  It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found.  This… this is doable.
Okay.  If you pull this off, you’re a badass.  If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation.  This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.
You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot.  Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.
You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further.  Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself.  The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—
Day 1–12:00am:
“Sweet girl.”
—You nearly fucking fall.
“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet.  It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.
Shit.
Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.
“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again.  “Answer me.”
You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond.  So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak.  You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below.  “Uh.  Ahem.  Hello.  Yes?”
“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you.  “Or something on your side is too loud.  There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”
You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about.  It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again.  You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.
“Are you already on the move?”  You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.
“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before.  Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something?  Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good?  It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough.  “Ready or not.”
You huff, your tummy going warm.  Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to.  If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended.  You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult.  “But I’m… sleepy.”
“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.
“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do?  This isn’t fair—”
“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”
Well.  Fair.
Stars, you can’t stay here.  You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk.  You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem.  Din is going to hear you no matter what.
“Um.  Can you give me a second?”  You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this.  Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.
“What?”  Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.
“I need to… mute myself.  Give me like… five minutes.”
“What are you talking abou—”
“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more.  That’s a long way.  You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep.  Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.
It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths.  You have a time limit now, you have to do this.
With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.
It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.
You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.
The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second.  The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.
Okay.  Okay, fucking success.  It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.
“Mando?”  You ask, slightly out of breath.  “Sorry about that, I’m back.”
Okay, now which way do you go?  Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with.  As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.
After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you.  You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing.  “Hello?  Shiny?”
“Did you trade shoes with someone?”  Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.
“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile.  “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”
“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment.  “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again?  Good idea, but the execution needs work.”
Maker, he’s smart.  It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely.  Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do.  You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today.  You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.
Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of.  The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right?  Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.
You want to go to Nariss.  The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance.  Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.
“Alright.  Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit.  You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat.  “How’s the baby?  Behaving himself?”
“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right.  You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.
“You’re joking.”  No fucking way, not that little demon.
“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly.  “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times.  Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”
That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along.  He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back.  Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change?  That has to be it, right?
“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father.  “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”
You hear it.  The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet.  It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.
On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.
“What’s that sound?”
You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees.  Shit.  “Uh.  What sound?”
You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything.  Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it?  It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is?  Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail?  Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?
Oh well, too late now.  You quickly decide to change the subject.
“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make.  “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good.  Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
“Mm.  Doubt it,”  immediately comes his low response.  Fucking immediately.
“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.
“Are you having fun?”  Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction.  You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth.  Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask.  Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have?  Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.
“I am,” you say warmly.  “Be… be better if you were here, though.”
“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.
You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing.  “Psh.  Nice try.”
“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.
“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.
“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes.  He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.
And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours.  He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—
“What’s your favorite food?”  (“I don’t have one.”)
“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?”  (“I don’t like food that much.”)
“What do you mean?  Everyone loves food.”  (“Not me.”)
“Alright, well um.  What’s your favorite color, then?”  (“I don’t have one, either.”)
“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.”  (“What’s your favorite color?”)
“…Brown.”  (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)
—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.
***
Day 1–6:15am:
You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be.  Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light.  Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them.  All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.
Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier.  The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.
The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing.  If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right?  You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time.  This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.
***
Day 1–7:06am:
You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road.  The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed.  You want a city.  This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines.  Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.
Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows.  As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter.  “Hey.”
“Holy shit, what?”  You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you.  You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.
“You were supposed to stay on foot.”
Ah.  So he got to the bus, then.  Okay.
“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile.  Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.
“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say.  Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult.  “Which one of these is yours then?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full.  “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”
The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.
***
Day 1–1:32pm:
Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.
He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle.  Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.
His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.
With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.
***
Day 1–9:51pm:
Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.
You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains.  You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest.  You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.
The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental.  It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped.  Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes.  The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead.  Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough.  You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.
You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in.  It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be.  The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own.  He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop.  He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.
But that only goes so far.  You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.
There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think.  It’s hard to see.  Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders.  That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right?  Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up?  Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…
***
Day 2–12:00am:
Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.
“Wake up.”
It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it.  You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy.  “Fuck, how’d you—”
“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.
“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more.  “Shit.  How d’you… mm.  Stay awake all the time…”
“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking.  “You need rest.  I’ll see you soon.”
No—
“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright.  Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now.  Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are.  Things still feel like a dream, somehow.
You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause.  “Go to sleep.”
“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up.  You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it.  “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”
“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you.  You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull.  So warm, so gentle.  If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest.  “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”
“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur.  Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect.  “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”
“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”
You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset.  “You makin’ fun of me?”  You ask him with a harumph.  Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.
“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know.  Is that displeasure or not?  It’s not immediately clear.  Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now?  Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it?  “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”
“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”
“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back.  You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright.  It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.
“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it.  “What’s sixteen times itself?”
You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that.  You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember.  Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart.  Sixteen times sixteen.  One forty-four.  No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—
You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.
“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh.  “I won’t move until you wake up.  Go to sleep.  You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”
Later, this moment will come back to you.  That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six.  You don’t even think Din would.  You would, though.  On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up.  You should know this.  And he knows you.
But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.
“You promise?”  You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.
“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless.  He doesn’t have to do this.  You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.
“Will you, um…” your expression furrows.  How do you say this?  You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out.  “I’m… not in a bed.  I’m outside.”
Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy.  You want him to stay.  Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.
You don’t need to ask.
“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt.  “Sleep, sweet girl.  I’m right here.”
***
Day 2–5:34am:
The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck.  Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.
You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time.  Wait.  Don’t panic.  Listen.
Breathing.  Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black.  He’s… asleep.
Din is asleep?  Seriously?
You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out.  You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen.  Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it.  Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much.  You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box.  It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost.  Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again.  Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.
You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator.  This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it.  He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back.  If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful.  He didn’t mean to fall asleep.
And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this.  You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up.  But… these circumstances are their own.  You have to capitalize now, this is your chance.  You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight.  That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.
You have to find Nariss—you have to.  It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him.  Now is the time to hide.  You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.
The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then.  As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.
***
Day 2–8:28am:
Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.
You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy.  “Mm?”
“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.
“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act.  “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”
“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.
“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head.  Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?
“Yeah, I…”  He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it.  “How long have you been up?”
Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”
He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”
How in Maker’s name?  This is impossible.  How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him?  Can you salvage this somehow?  “…Like ten minutes.”
“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak.  “That was smar—”
“Fair wasn’t part of—”
Oh.  Well.  Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways.  There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up.  Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over.  Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?
“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background.  It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around.  “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though.  He walked home barefoot.”
You smack your forehead.  “It was just….”
“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle.  “Alright, I’m up now.  See you when you get here.”
And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…
Uh.  What the fuck was that?
No.  Nope, you’re not going to get played.  That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time.  You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore.  You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing.  He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it.  That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it.  Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept.  You’re certain of it.
***
Day 2–12:35pm:
Nariss is big.  Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected.  It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning.  Yes, this will work nicely.
As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?
Oh.  That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time.  If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.
Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion.  You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly?  Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show?  You have to stop worrying about him.  He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.
So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving.  While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation.  You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.
“Do you have some place to stay?”  He asks at one point.  So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect.  He doesn’t need to know.  “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”
This catches your attention, though.  This is relevant.  “What does that mean?”
“It’s expensive?”  He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile.  “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range.  I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads.  We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding.  It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”
He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way.  Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes.  He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think.  Someone a little less expressive.  This guy… talks a lot.
“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.
“Sanctuary II is,” he comments.  “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke.  “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle.  You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”
“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?”  You ask.  You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn.  It’ll be the first place Din checks.
“Are you a virgin?”  He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger.  The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that!  It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts.  Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”
“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him.  Good, this is almost over.  “Um.  Yep.  That’s me.”
He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod.  “When you get to the city, just go straight through.  It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”
Okay, that’s… interesting.  You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line.  That might actually be a good move.  Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you.  Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right?  He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to.  Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him.  He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it.  Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.
The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly.  “Oh, by the way.  I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”
He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.
***
Day 2–5:43pm:
You have an idea.
You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.
The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right.  You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store.  Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.
Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside.  You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms.  Oh well, you weren’t complaining.  Fancy clothes for free, score.
But now you’re here, and you have the best idea.  You don’t need to change shoes, not yet.  Why?  Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.
You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you.  It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories.  It’s an eyesore, it sticks out.  But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.
It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters.  Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.
At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left.  I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.
It’s to your advantage, he said so himself.  Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.
And there’s another upside, see.  An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now.  If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.
Let him know.  Let him know exactly where you are.  Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling.  If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide.  He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.
The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night.  It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on.  It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal.  Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.
***
Day 2–11:54pm:
Alright, so this was the best idea ever.  This is the shit.
You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you.  You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think?  No, that must be a mistranslation, right?
You’re also in a robe.  Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here.  And… and slippers, it’s like a dream.  Do people normally wear slippers in bed?  You do.  Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase.  This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.
The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways.  You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky.  Violent and periwinkle tonight.  You wonder if he’s looking, too.
Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.
Day 3–12:00am:
“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair.  Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath.  Maker, this feels nice.
“You sound happy,” Din comments.  Astute, you feel happy.  Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here.  Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers.  You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth.  No face, though.  Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.
“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance.  You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.
“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed.  You… miss him.  This mattress would feel softer with him next to you.  He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it.  You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles.  Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.
“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.
“Not a chance,” Din mutters.  “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”  You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you.  “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”
He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding.  “Good one.”
You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you.  You love him.  Literally every single time, he just knows.  Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often.  Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again.  “How do you know?”
“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.
Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today?  How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes?  A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal?  You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.
“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you.  “You should be here.  I’d make you feel good.”
Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually.  Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting.  He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him.  He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around.  The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead.  You could all look at the sky together.
Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece.  “Are you in an inn?”
“No,” you say, a little too quickly.  Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie.  You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?
“Hm.”
What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible?  He read you that deeply from one single word?  You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.
“Are you doing this on purpose?”  You blurt without thinking.
“Doing what?”  He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.
“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?”  You don’t even know what to believe anymore.  How do you beat this?  If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out.  His perception is unbelievable.
After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm.  “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.”  It sounds like he’s smiling.
“I…”  your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”
Din lets out a deep sigh.  He’s right, that was bad, even for you.  “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits.  You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step.  “I’m nowhere near the city yet.  You have time to sleep.”
Your expression furrows and you frown.  “Why are you helping me?”
“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?”  He tosses back, and you huff.
“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.
“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.”  His voice is gruff.  You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing.  “You should give yourself more credit.  I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss.  It’s… not good for me.”
The honesty creeping in makes you go soft.  It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through.  “Wanna know a secret?”
“Tell me.”  His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.
You say it before you lose the nerve.  “I might just turn around and walk back.”
His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache.  You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are.  People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself.  For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.
“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it.  You feel so… known, somehow.  Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his.  He makes you feel loved with it.  “Never wants to run.”
You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.
But again.  You don’t have to say anything, he already knows.  “Give me your coordinates.”
Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip.  Oh, stars.  You hate that you do genuinely consider it.  He could be here, and very soon.  With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably.  He could take a shower.  Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one.  You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.
“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.
Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together.  You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you.  Let him come.  You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.
It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.
“Are you eating the purple fruit?”  You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement.  You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him.  Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone.  You like to think you’re both better that way.  Balanced.
“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.
“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”  Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.
“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you.  It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it?  This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting.  Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around.  The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.
“You’re alone, right?”  You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit.  He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.
“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts.  His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…
This has a very small chance of success, you already know.  “…Do you want to—”
“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you.  “We can’t.”
Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless.  Should you push it?  You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?
“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip.  It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach.  “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”
There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.
“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?
“What are you gonna do?”  You whisper to him devilishly.  Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down.  Stars, your heart is already pounding.  You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason.  He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire.  “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me.  Or you could find me before I’m finished.  Come make me stop.”
Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to.  The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.
You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels.  You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.
“Do you want to listen?”  You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond.  Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing.  “I’ll talk.”
Still, nothing from him.  Dead silence through the comm.  You’re starting to understand.  For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice.  He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.
You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.
“Hm.  If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu.  You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.
Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece.  “No, don’t even think—”
“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen.  “Take pictures.”
He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement.  When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy.  “…You wouldn’t.”
Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now.  “Oh shit, does this holocall?  Or is it a video option?”
“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”
“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him.  “Pick up.”
Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear.  “What if I don’t?”
You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious.  He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you?  Really?
“You sure?”  You ask softly, raising an eyebrow.  “You’d get to see me, where I am.  What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”
The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop.  You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all.  Did he decline the transmission request?  No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before.  Why can’t you see him?
“Why can’t I see you?”  You ask.  You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.
“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath.  “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”
Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist?  Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?
“Nobody can see me but you?”  You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows.  You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible.  “Can you see… this?”  You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.
“Where are you?”  Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.
You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more.  “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”
“Why?”  Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier.  “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know.”  You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed.  “Can you see that?”
“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet.  Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that.  How do you know he’s telling you the truth?
“What am I doing?”  You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.
“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden.  Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.
You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end.  Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.
“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight.  Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.
“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit.  “Where?”
“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera.  Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.
“Where in Nariss?”  Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.
“I don’t know,” you say again.  Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors.  You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop.  “But the window is open.  And there are lots of people outside.”
“Can they see you?”  Din immediately challenges.  Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that.  You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.
“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him.  It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay.  Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently.  It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth.  “Does it matter?  I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”
“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?
Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”
“Give me your coordinates—”
“Are you giving up?”  You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following.  You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.
The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator.  Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.
You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself.  Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea.  No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well.  You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place.  Is he just that aroused by you?  Or is there something more?
“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again.  Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.
His deep, shaky breath is so telling.  Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back.  You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible.  You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.
You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do.  It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.
“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—
“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.
“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell.  He’ll be able to see it, you think.  The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.
“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside.  It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip.  He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.
“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—
“Don’t—”
It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something?  You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless.  It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.
You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you.  You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.  You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.
“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you.  Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples.  “Clean me up.”
“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious.  “You think—y-you think—”
“What?”  You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious.  Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.
There’s a moment where his breathing stops.  It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.
“You think you can taunt me?”   He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet.  “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there?  You think that’s gonna work?”
Your eyebrow lifts, considering.  He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now.  “Maybe…”
“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”
Ooh.  That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart.  He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you.  Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word.  “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”
“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly.  Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down.  “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid.  Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days.  I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss.  You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”
The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it.  You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his.  He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.
“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.  “How long do you think you can keep running?”
Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not?  What have you got to lose?  Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways.  What’s the worst he can do?  Find you?
You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here.  “Ask me again tomorrow.”
But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days.  You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you.  You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.
“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.
***
Day 3—2:23am:
Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.
But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.  It blinks with four percent battery life.
***
To be continued!!
6K notes · View notes
jungshookz · 3 years
Text
smitten: y/n's note is in jungkook's bag and she needs to get it back like, right now
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➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader
➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook & smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boo hoo angsty wattpad-energy fic of your dreams!! unrequited love!! it hurts so bad but that's what makes it so good!!
➺ wordcount; 7.1k
➺ summary; y/n realizes her meticulously written i love you note is burning a hole at the bottom of jungkook's bag and the mere thought of him finding it is enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.
➺ what to expect; "well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that."
➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]
»»————- 🖤 ————-««
[previously, on smitten...]
what?
where the hell is it?
you reach into the side pockets and you're disappointed when you end up pulling out old tissues and empty gum wrappers
it's not in the front pocket either — just your keys, a pack of bubblegum, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer
your brows knit together in deep thought as you settle back against your seat, your eyes flickering to the side as you-
you immediately pale
oh my god.
you're positive that your heart stops beating for three whole seconds the moment you realize where exactly the note is — because no, you idiot, you didn't shove it into your own bag earlier-
the note is in jungkook's bag.
»»————- 🖤 ————-««
the next thirty or so minutes of class seem to drag on at a snail's pace and you find yourself checking the time on your phone every five seconds to see when you can finally dart out those doors
your first instinct was to immediately get up and leave because of course you wanted to immediately get up and leave, but with only twenty-ish people in the class and the fact that you're seated near the front... well, it would be a little awkward to just pack up your things and trek up towards the doors without a legitimate excuse (you were tempted to tell your professor that your stomach wasn't feeling very good but the thought of your peers associating you with explosive diarrhea quickly changed your mind)
so, you decided to be a good student and wait it out — but, being perfectly honest, you haven't really been paying much attention to the professor since the thought of you shoving your hi bestie, i'm head-over-heels in love with you note into jungkook's bag instead of yours contaminated your mind five minutes ago
...
you let out a little huff before shaking your head to yourself
how could you be so careless?!
you don't even know how it happened
your bag was sitting on your right thigh, jungkook's bag was sitting on your left thigh... so how the hell did you manage to shove it into his bag??
on the bright side, at least you know where it is, right?
it's in the right side pocket of the bag, so all you have to do is unzip it and stick your hand in and out really quickly without jungkook noticing you rummaging around in his belongings
...but what if he's already read the note?
your foot taps impatiently against the carpeted ground and you reach up and start tugging at your earlobe anxiously, your eyes flickering up towards the dusty analog clock hanging on the wall
c'mon... c'mon...
your grip tightens around your pencil as you continue to trace circles aimlessly on the page, the paper crinkling slightly from the amount of pressure you're putting on it
the stress that's currently eating away at you is probably going to take ten years off your life
"-so, that's pretty much it from me for the day!"
you don't think you've ever been so happy for a class to end as soon as the screen goes black at the front and you waste absolutely no time in packing up
you probably look insane trying to shove your laptop and your notebook into your bag at the same time but you couldn't care less at this point because you need to get the hell out of here
"-please remember to contribute to the discussion threads online... at least four responses, please, and none of those bullshit 'yes, i agree!' responses. i'm definitely not going to count those as participation marks-"
you close your bag with a sharp ziiiip! and you hurry to fold the squeaky desk back into place, a couple of people turning to glance at you for the sudden abundance of clattering and knocking coming from your direction
"excuse me, pardon me-" you pull your backpack on as you step over multiple sets of legs, trying your best not to trample on any feet or knock anyone's tooth out with your bag, "sorry! excuse me-"
you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you jog up the steps two at a time, your brain immediately mapping out the route to the library jungkook said he'd be at
best case scenario: he hasn't found the note and your friendship with him is still very much in tact
worst case scenario: he found the note and is currently reading it at this point in time and your friendship with him is starting to crumble but you still have a chance to swoop in and pick up the pieces
the absolutely worst case ever in the entire world scenario: he's found the note, he's read the note, he's processed the note, and your friendship with him has been completely annihilated and now he's planning to change his name and leave the country so that he doesn't have to confront you about it
you use your shoulder to shove the doors open before bursting out into the open air, ignoring the concerned glances you're starting to receive from your obviously frazzled state
"oh god, oh god, oh god-!" your backpack flops wildly against your back as you rush down the narrow brick steps leading towards the main boulevard
realistically, jungkook's probably found and read the note, so all you have to do is come up with a short monologue about how all of it was fake and that the note was just a sick, twisted prank of some kind
i know that the note makes it seem like i'm telling you that i'm in love with you, but that's not the truth at all!
"woah, watch it-!"
you accidentally knock into someone's shoulder while sprinting down the lane and you turn around for a second just to hold a hand out while flashing the stranger a sheepish smile
"sorry! so sorry-" you turn back around, reaching up to keep your glasses secured on the top of your head as you continue to sprint, your sneakers slapping down against the pavement
as you read in the note, i made a point about how since we're friends, we should be honest with each other... and honestly, there are nothing but lies in the note! and there's a lesson in that, you know? words can be full of lies but we, as human beings, should be full of truths-
"nope, hate that-" you shake your head and immediately scrunch up that mental piece of paper before tossing it into your brain's garbage bin
you'd sound like an obnoxious philosophy student if you hit him with that explanation
it was a prank! i want to start a prank war with you and this is how i'm kicking things off!
that... that could work, right?
that's not bad!
just tell him that you wanted to start a prank war with him so you decided to go big or go home with an i love you, best friend note to see how he would react!
"so stupid-" you mutter to yourself, slowing down to a jog as you approach the doors to the library, "so, so stupid-"
the Super Epic Prank War ROFL XD™ explanation isn't the greatest excuse but it's the best you can do on such short notice
thankfully, it doesn't take you very long to track down jungkook considering the fact he always sits in the same area every time the two of you come here
your feet come to a screeching halt the moment you spot him and you quickly step to the side to hide behind the wall
you slowly lean over a little to peek at him
he has his headphones on and he's busy typing away at his laptop and you can tell he's concentrating really hard because he has that cute frown on his face and occasionally he'll mutter something to himself
jungkook in intense focus mode is something you find to be very endearing :-)
...
you quickly shake your head to snap yourself out of your daze before focusing on jungkook's face again
he certainly doesn't look like he just read an explosive love letter...
hm
you could still be safe!
...for now, that is.
"okay, y/n-" you stand up straight and let out a breath, giving yourself a mental pat on the head in an effort to calm your nerves, "better sooner than later, right? just- you just have to rip it off like a bandaid-"
your anxiety seems to build with every step that brings you closer to jungkook and you can almost hear the jaws theme song playing all around you
da-dum
jungkook, i swear i have a perfectly logical explanation for this...
da-dum
i know the note does a very convincing job of making it seem like i'm in love with you, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!
da-dum, da-dum
consider this your initiation into our very serious prank war, my friend!
dadumdadumdumdumbdumbdumbthisissuchadumbdumbidea-
"hi!" you greet a little too enthusiastically, trying your best not to make it seem like you just sprinted across campus to get to him even though you very clearly did
"sorry, seat's reserv- y/n?" jungkook looks up from his laptop before frowning, quickly glancing back down at his screen to check the time as he pulls his headphones off to hang around his neck, "aren't you- didn't your class end, like, literally a minute ago? why are you so- did you run here??" he asks incredulously, getting up from his seat as his brows knit together in concern
"no, no! of course i didn't run here, silly- oh, god, give me a sec-" you wheeze, bending down and gripping onto the back of the wooden chair in front of you as you try to catch your breath, your chest still falling and rising at a concerning pace from the physical stress of sprinting and the mental stress of the current situation, "it was more of a- of a brisk walk, if you think about it- jesus, i think i'm gonna throw up-"
"okay, you need to drink some water- come and sit next to me-" jungkook reaches out to help lead you around the table towards him, "god, i don't know why you thought you had to run over, it's not like i was planning on going anywhere-"
"i'm fine, kook, it's fine-"
"you're, like, literally radiating heat," jungkook turns you around and pulls your bag off your back before pulling out a chair and helping you into it, "and your face is all red!" he frowns, setting your bag down on the table and unzipping it to pull out your water bottle
"my face is always this red!" you force out a casual laugh, waving your hand to dismiss him as you lean back against the seat, "i'm fine, it's fine-"
"shut up and take a sip-" jungkook untwists the cap of your water bottle before shoving it into your hands and gently lifting it up towards your mouth, his head tilting up a little so he can check and see if you're actually drinking anything, "c'mon, hydrate yourself-"
you swallow a couple gulps of water before pulling the bottle away and reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "god, i love water-"
"yeah, i bet." jungkook chuckles, visibly more relieved now that he knows you won't be passing out from exhaustion anytime soon
as you put your water bottle away, your eyes lower towards jungkook's backpack slouching against the leg of his chair and almost immediately the anxiety that you thought you'd just swallowed down bubbles right back up
"so, are you going to tell me why you're acting like the cops are after you?" jungkook jokes, taking his seat before pulling his headphones off and setting them down next to his laptop
"i just, um-" you press your lips together as you slowly start to lean down, stretching your arm out towards the pocket, "i just wanted to see you, buddy!"
"i don't believe that for a second." jungkook snorts, turning to look at you
you shoot straight back up and pull your arm up and behind your head as if you're in the middle of a good stretch, "hey, what's with that tone? it's not a crime for me to want to see you-"
"you saw me at lunch! and that was only like an hour and a half ago-" jungkook turns his head to look back at his screen and you quickly revert back to your mission impossible secret agent mode
the forced smile drops from your face and you lean back down, your fingers blindly feeling for the cool metal of the zipper
"you know, you actually came at just the right time-" jungkook speaks up again and you pause just in case you need to pull away from his bag, but he makes no move to turn and look at you, "ji-eun was about to leave for her class but now you can meet her before she goes off!"
"uh-huh..." your tongue pokes out in concentration as you unzip the pocket in one swift movement, immediately sticking your hand in and feeling around for the balled-up piece of paper, "sounds gre-"
hold on, what did he just say?
you shoot back up
"did you just-" you choke and reach up to pat your chest gently, "i'm sorry, did you just say that ji-eun was here?"
"uh-huh!" jungkook nods, "i didn't know she had a spare at the same time as i did so i was surprised when she came over to say hi- it turns out our schedules are, like, sort of similar which oddly makes me kind of happy-"
it's at that moment that you notice the cherry-patterned tote bag slumped in the chair sitting across from you and you let out a nervous chuckle as you shift in your seat, "great! great, that's so- great, it's great that i'm meeting ji-eun today, out of all days..." you trail off, glancing around warily as you try to come up with some kind of an exit strategy
you're just really not in the mood to meet the love of jungkook's life today
you've already been hit with so many blows and it's only two in the afternoon-
"sorry that took so long! i couldn't find a bin but i bumped into my friends and they said they'd throw it out for me-"
oh, you have got to be kidding me.
your eyes widen in mild panic upon immediately recognizing ji-eun to be the girl who had overheard your entire monologue in the bathroom earlier today — and from the way her eyes flicker, it seems as though she remembers exactly who you are as well
"oh, no worries!" jungkook beams at ji-eun before pointing to you with his thumb, "this is my friend, by the way. the one i was talking about earlier! y/n, this is ji-eun."
you stay quiet as you continue staring up at ji-eun, your mind racing a mile a minute as you consider your current options
you can pretend like you've never met her before or you can make things awkward by telling jungkook that you met her today after she'd emptied her bladder
"...y/n?" jungkook lowers his voice, nudging you with his elbow before letting out a nervous chuckle, "please say something."
"i- yes, hello!" you blurt out, the feet of your chair scraping against the rough carpet as you get up from your seat to stick your hand out towards ji-eun, "it's- ah- it's- it's so nice to meet you! i'm y/n."
ji-eun stays quiet for a second before her lips turn up in a polite smile and she reaches towards you, gently taking your outstretched hand in hers (for the record, her hands are shockingly soft and supple), "it's lovely to meet you... as well, y/n. i love your glasses!"
you can't help but notice the immediate warmth that seems to surround ji-eun and suddenly it makes a lot more sense as to why jungkook's attracted to her
you're about as comforting as stepping into a puddle of water while wearing socks
you feel a slight sense of relief seeing that ji-eun is playing along but your new concern is whether or not she's connected the dots that your monologue in the bathroom was dedicated to jungkook
you didn't actually say his name when you were talking out loud, so you might be able to get away with this...
"oh, these old things?" you reach up to feel the glasses sitting on top of your head before flicking your hand at her, "i bought them on amazon. they're blue-light glasses- i can totally send you the link if you want."
"that would actually be great!" she gasps, nodding enthusiastically, "i desperately need a pair of blue-light glasses- seriously, i stared at my laptop screen for, like, ten hours straight today and i really feel like they're about to roll out of my head-"
"oh my god, don't even get me started. at this point it'd probably feel better to rip them right out of their sockets-"
"ji-eun, you ready?"
"let's gooo, i wanna get an iced coffee before we head off to class."
you and ji-eun don't get a chance to continue bonding over the pain of sore eyes when you're suddenly interrupted by two new voices
you look up to see two guys approaching the table and you subtly push your seat back a bit as you prepare yourself to say hello again
"oh! yeah, i'm ready, sorry-" ji-eun gestures towards you with a smile, "this is- this is jungkook's friend, by the way. y/n, these are my friends."
"hi, hello-" you get up from your seat again to stick your hand out, offering the two (very handsome, might you add) strangers a friendly smile, "i'm y/n, jungkook's friend- but you- you already knew that because that's what ji-eun just said-"
"i'm taehyung! you can call me tae-" the corners of taehyung's mouth immediately raise in a bright grin and he gives your hand a firm shake before nodding next to him, "and this is jimin!"
"hi..." you trail off, turning to give jimin a handshake as well, "so nice to meet you!"
"oh, i just- i actually just washed my hands, so-" jimin chuckles, looking down at your hand before taking a small step back, "but it's nice to meet you... jungkook's friend."
ooh
is it just you or did it suddenly get a little icy in here?
"oh, no problem! um, yeah, you too." you pull your hand back before swallowing nervously and forcing the polite smile back on your face, "i like your jacket, by the way! it looks really cool."
maybe it's because he's wearing giant sunglasses indoors but you can't help but feel slightly intimidated by jimin
you can't see his eyes but you can certainly feel them on you and you're definitely getting the vibe that jimin is already not the biggest fan of you for some weird reason
"thank you." he responds curtly, smoothing a hand over the leather before looking down at ji-eun, "so can we go now?"
"mhm!" ji-eun gets up from her chair before pushing it back into place, pulling her tote back up onto her shoulder before flashing a sweet smile at jungkook, "see you later, alligator."
"in a while, crocodile!" jungkook responds enthusiastically, watching with twinkly eyes as she turns and heads off towards the exit with jimin and taehyung glued at either side of her
god
she even walks prettily
and you were literally clomping down the boulevard like a feral caveman a second ago
you wait until they've disappeared to turn and face jungkook with a raised eyebrow, "...jimin was kind of a bitch."
"hey, play nice!" jungkook frowns, reaching over to give your arm a gentle whack, "he's a fashion major! ji-eun says being snooty is part of the degree requirements-" he grins, shaking his head slightly before leaning back against his chair, "she's, like, super funny."
"mm." you hum, still feeling a little uneasy about your interaction with jimin
you just hate it when first meetings don't go well and that first meeting definitely wasn't super great
but it wasn't like you did anything wrong, right?
you were great!
snooty jimin was the one who was being rude
whatever
hopefully you won't have to hang out with him too often if jungkook and ji-eun become an item
maybe you can just stick with taehyung!
he seems to be a lot friendlier
"oh, by the way, i-" you're suddenly reminded of your main mission and you turn to point down at jungkook's bag, "it's not a big deal, but i- i accidentally shoved something in your bag earlier and- could i just get it back from you?"
"you did?" jungkook frowns, leaning down to pick his bag up before unzipping it all the way and pulling both flaps open, "what was it?"
"it was- uh- just some notes on a scrap piece of paper!" you immediately feel the weight lift from your shoulders at jungkook's cluelessness to the situation, "i put it in the right side pocket-"
"wait, are you talking about, like, a balled up thing of paper?" jungkook pauses before looking up at you with wide eyes, "oh, shit- was it important??"
"um, i wouldn't call it important-" you snort, shaking your head, "is it not there? i swore it was in the right side pocket-"
"no, no, it was there! it was there, i just- ji-eun needed to spit her gum out and i thought it was one of my scrap pieces of paper-" jungkook winces, grabbing his phone and unlocking it with fumbling fingers, "i'm so sorry, y/n- let me text ji-eun and ask her which garbage can she threw it into and i can go dig it out-"
"no, no, it's okay!" you nearly let out a screech of delight knowing that your note now has a slobbery wad of gum in it and is living at the bottom of a trash can, "it's fine, i just- they were just boring notes for something. i just wanted to see if i had really shoved it into your bag or not."
"oh, okay-" jungkook's shoulders immediately slump and he sets his phone down on the table, "you're sure it wasn't important?"
"100%." you hold both hands out with a chuckle, "i needed to throw it out anyway so i guess ji-eun actually did me a favour-"
"okay, phew." jungkook sighs, zipping his bag back up and plopping it back down on the ground next to his feet, "anyways- i'm actually glad you're here because now you can help me plan out my date! i was working on it but then ji-eun came and obviously i couldn't have that google doc open in front of her-" he turns his laptop to show you all of his hard work with a grin, "check it out! i have a list of things i need to buy, i have outfit ideas, i even went on pinterest for inspiration-"
"wow, kook-" your eyes bulge out for a second at the sight of the extensive and shockingly organized google doc before you reach over to pull his laptop closer towards you, "i... i really don't think i've ever seen you... even make a google doc before-"
he even has the sunset time written down for the date
why would he need to know what time the sun is setting??
"i have everything planned for next week." jungkook pulls his laptop back to him as you settle back against your seat, "i already emailed my landlord to ask if i would even be allowed to hang out on the rooftop and he said it would be fine! he also reminded me to keep a brick wedged between the door so that i don't lock us up on the rooftop-"
"so you're definitely going with the rooftop picnic, then?"
"oh, i'm actually changing it to a rooftop dinner instead of a picnic." jungkook shakes his head before giving you a half-hearted shrug, "i think a picnic is cute but i really wanna try to impress her, y'know? i ordered this thing on amazon just now- basically, it's a medium-sized inflatable bubble tent! the description says it's perfect for two people and- i'm gonna, like-" he pauses and looks away from his screen towards you with a smile, "well, you know, i'm gonna do what you said and i'm gonna stuff it full of blankets and pillows and... hopefully i can string up fairy lights and stuff on the inside... so that after the date we can go in there and just talk and not have to worry about getting attacked by mosquitos!"
"wow, that's-" you cross your arms over your chest before leaning back and looking up towards the ceiling, "huh. that's actually a cute idea, kook. i wouldn't have been able to come up with something like that. i didn't even know transparent tents existed."
"i know." jungkook gives you a smug little smile before bursting into a grin, "but yeah, that's it! all we have to do is go and pick up all the supplies and stuff."
"we?" you frown, looking back down at jungkook, "i... wasn't aware i was part of this plan..."
"what? of course you are!" jungkook snorts, looking at you as if a third eye just sprouted from your forehead, "obviously you have to help me-"
"well, i just don't know if that's-" you chuckle uneasily as you rub the back of your neck, "i really- i don't wanna get in your way, you know? maybe you should- maybe you should just take care of all of this yourself! i mean, you basically planned everything already-"
"what? but- but you're my-" jungkook deflates and you instantly feel bad upon seeing his eyes suddenly turn sad, "okay..."
you press your lips together and wait for him to say something else but the next few seconds are filled with nothing but awkward silence and the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights hanging above you
you'd jump off a cliff if jungkook asked you to but helping him prepare and set up his date is something that you,.., definitely would not enjoy.,.,
but then again, this isn't about you, is it?
this is about jungkook, your friend, and he needs your help to set up this very important date that-
oh, damnit.
"i'm-" you clear your throat as you sit up in your seat, reaching over to give jungkook's hand a pat, "no, of course i'll help, kook. i just thought that- well, this date seems so important to you that i thought you wanted to take care of all the details yourself!"
the bright smile immediately returns to jungkook's face and you resist the urge to call him out on so blatantly guilt-tripping you like that-
"yes! you're the best!"
"i know."
»»————- 🖤 ————-««
although you and jungkook are practically inseparable on campus (and some would say it might be healthy for the two of you to give each other a little bit of space) — you don't think you'll ever say no to hanging out with him downtown
of course, hanging out with jungkook downtown would be a lot more fun if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have basically spent the entire day shopping for all the things he needs for his date
and if it weren't for the fact that he paid for lunch and treated you to a cake pop and a venti-sized iced coffee, you would probably be livid about having to carry everything for him because you really feel like your arms are about to pop right off in about two seconds
fancy cutlery, porcelain plates, fluffy throw pillows, a giant blanket, fairy lights... at this point he might as well buy an entire house for ji-eun
and look, you know you probably sound bitter and that-should-be-me about this whole situation, but that couldn't be farther from the truth!
it's just that listening to someone you like gushing about the person that they like for an entire day while you're carrying bags full of things for their date can get a little mentally and physically exhausting so if you're grouchy right now it's really not your fault
"i think we might have to call an uber back to your place, jungkook-" you mutter, adjusting the hefty tote bag over your shoulder with a grunt as you trail behind him on the sidewalk, "bringing all of this on the bus is going to piss people off-"
you stumble over your feet a little when the bag in your right hand knocks into a garbage can and you curse to yourself while resisting the urge to kick the damn thing over
"okay, grumpy, we'll call an uber home-" jungkook spins around with a smile before raising the notepad in his hand and tapping against it with his pen, "i just have one more thing i have to take care of and then we can go!"
"okay, well-" you set the bags down onto the ground with a fwump! before rubbing your sore palms together, "what else do you have to get?"
jungkook offered to help carry a couple of things but you insisted that you'd take it all and that he should just focus on ticking off all of the items on his list
you wince at the sight of the pinkish-red imprints now embedded into your palms from the straps of the bags
obviously you've now come to regret your generous offer
"flowers!" jungkook chirps, using his pen to point to the flower shop a couple of shops down, "i have to greet ji-eun with a bouquet of flowers as pretty as she is-"
"yeah, i understand-" you adjust the two bags on both shoulders before bending down to pick up the other two on the ground, "also, i'm not a genius or anything but i'm pretty sure the flowers aren't going to survive until the date if you buy them now-"
"duh, obviously not- i'm going to place an order now and then pick them up on the day of the date!" jungkook tsks, waiting for you to join his side before he begins walking towards the flower shop, "thanks for doing all of this for me, by the way. you really are the best." he hums, hurrying over to open the door for you
"i... yeah, of course, kook." you feel yourself soften slightly as soon as you see the sweet little smile on his face and you quickly scold yourself in your head for being so curt with him all day, "that's what friends are for, right?"
"mhm!" jungkook slaps his hands down on your shoulders from behind before giving them a squeeze, "and i am so letting you choose whatever you want for dinner tonight-"
"hello!"
"oh, jesus-" you and jungkook are immediately greeted by an overenthusiastic employee as soon as you step into the shop and you honestly probably would've knocked him out with one of your shopping bags if they weren't so heavy-
"are you two looking for anything in particular?" he smiles kindly before gesturing towards the large selection of flowers all around you, "we have flowers of all kinds! roses, tulips, lilies- i can even show you flowers from our new tropical selection-"
"actually-" jungkook nudges you aside before glancing down at the employee's nametag, "seokjin, i'd like to place an order for a custom bouquet, if that's okay."
"ah, a custom bouquet!" seokjin claps his hands and rubs them together enticingly, "what are you celebrating? i need to know so that i can help pick out the perfect flowers for your bouquet."
"well, i don't know if it's a celebration-" jungkook chuckles, his cheeks pinking slightly as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, "it's for a first date."
"a first date!!" seokjin gasps excitedly before turning his head to look at you, "you must be so-"
"-oh, not for me!" you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, "it's- it's definitely not for me. i'm just here to provide moral support and-" you lift one of the bags to show him, "muscular support."
"ah, i see... okay, well- why don't i take you around and introduce you to the different candidates you could consider for your bouquet?" seokjin turns back to look at jungkook, "each flower you choose will be very important in showing your future lover how much you care about them-" he pauses when he notices you hovering behind jungkook and he leans over a little with a bright smile, "why don't you go and wait by the front counter, darling? you can put everything down there and take a little break. there's some cucumber water and fresh puff pastry apple roses up at the front if you're interested!"
"well, i can't say no to free food." you snort, nodding before turning to head towards the front counter, "i'll just wait for you over there, then..."
you nearly let out a moan of relief as soon as you set all the bags down and you twist your upper body to the right and to the left until you feel the a satisfying pop! of your spine cracking back in place
your body was not made to carry heavy things
in fact, you'd like to argue that your body was made to lie down and do nothing
you take a seat on the wooden stool before turning to look at the apple roses sitting prettily in the display case and you almost feel like you shouldn't touch them even though seokjin offered them to you
even the pitcher of cucumber water looks too nice to touch
this place is awfully fancy
you didn't even know flower shops could be this fancy
you prop both elbows up on the counter before leaning back comfortably, your eyes lazily scanning around the store
"$15 for a single rose?" you gawk at the little wooden sign poking out from a large bouquet of neatly wrapped long-stem roses before making a face, "god."
you can't even imagine how much a custom bouquet is going to cost if a single rose is fifteen bucks
"-also write a note for you and attach it to the bouquet, if you're interested in that. it'll be an additional five dollars, but we handwrite it on the highest quality card stock with the most beautiful calligraphy and we even spray it with perfume-"
you perk up when you hear seokjin's voice and you look to see him and jungkook coming over to you
you have to admit that seokjin is great at his job because he's doing a good job at milking every dollar out of jungkook-
"yeah, that would be great!" jungkook nods enthusiastically, pulling his backpack off before unzipping it to grab his wallet, "i think a small note might be cute-"
"oh, that reminds me!" seokjin stops in his tracks right as he's about to lift the wooden slab to get behind the counter, "would you be interested in purchasing a teddy bear as well? if you add a teddy bear to your order, i'll give you a slight discount on the flowers."
"ooh, a discount!" jungkook gasps and you turn your head slightly so seokjin won't see you rolling your eyes at how much he's forcing jungkook to buy
you respect the hustle but this is too much
"where are the teddy bears?"
"right by the flowers!" seokjin smiles, wrapping an arm around jungkook's shoulders and spinning him around, "we can round back and take a look-"
"okay, i think i have to cut in here-" you chuckle, reaching out and grabbing the back of jungkook's elbow, "you don't- you don't think a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear is a little too much for a first date?" you clear your throat quietly before offering a shrug, "i feel like that's just... a lot, kook. i mean, i would be overwhelmed if-"
"well, i guess it's a good thing i'm not taking you out on a date then, right?" jungkook teases, wiggling his arm out of your grip before turning back to look at seokjin, "onward to the bears, my good man!"
ouch
"yeah." you can't help but frown as jungkook and seokjin head back towards the flowers, "thanks for the reminder."
"that's gotta hurt."
"god-" you jump at the sudden appearance of an employee standing behind the counter and you place a hand over your chest before letting out a breath, "you scared me!"
"sorry." he shrugs, "we polished the floors this morning so my shoes are making, like, no noise."
"oh."
a moment of silence passes while you turn to face away from him again, but all of a sudden-
"so he really can't tell that you like him, huh?"
"you-" you immediately straighten up and your head spins around so fast that you're surprised you didn't complete decapitate yourself, "excuse me??"
"what? it's obvious." the employee snorts, spraying cleaner onto the counter before reaching up to yank the tattered rag off his shoulder, "it's painfully obvious, actually-"
you can feel your entire face starting to go red as this complete stranger continues to rip you a new one and you hold a hand out to shut him up, "no offense, but i-i don't think this is any of your business, sir-"
"it's yoongi." yoongi looks down at his apron for a second before frowning, "huh. i forgot to put my dumb name tag on again-"
"well, yoongi-" you place emphasis on his name in an effort to intimidate him and make him go away, "you don't know what you're talking about and i suggest you mind your own business-"
"you should tell him before it's too late." yoongi doesn't seem to be all that affected by your biting tone and you roll your eyes at the way he rounds back to the topic
"what are you even talking about?"
"well, i assume you're going to be his best man at his wedding. from the way it's looking, you're certainly not going to be the bride," yoongi purses his lips as he folds up the rag into a neat little square, "you don't wanna wait until you're fixing his tie at the wedding to tell him that you love him."
"what makes you think i lo-" you cut yourself off quickly before that word slips out of your mouth, "like him?"
"if you didn't, you wouldn't be here right now." yoongi points out with a tilt of his head, "and from how smudgy your eyeliner is, it looks like you've been working hard all day."
your jaw drops slightly and you can't help but scoff
the nerve of this guy!
"who do you think you are?!"
"i'm yoongi." yoongi raises a brow, "i told you that like a second ago- wow, you are not a good listener-"
"do you usually do this with all of the customers who come here?" you interrupt, crossing your arms defensively before leaning in slightly, "you're awfully nosy-"
"i only do this with the ones that seem to have something juicy going on." yoongi hums, leaning down to put the spray bottle of cleaner under the counter, "this is a flower shop. the most exciting part of my day is watching a bumblebee choose which flower to land on."
"well, nothing juicy is going on here so-" you twist back around before sticking your nose up in the air slightly, "sorry to disappoint."
"alright, fair enough." yoongi nods to himself, letting out a sigh as he slowly backs away from the counter, "i guess i'll just leave you to... wallow in self-pity... and continue staring at your friend with cartoon hearts floating around your head-"
"'you should tell him before it's too late-'" you swivel around and slap both your palms down on the counter, "why would you- why would even say something like that?! i can't tell him. are you insane?!"
a smirk twitches at the corner of yoongi's mouth at your sudden confession and he lets out a sigh before stepping back up towards you, "and why can't you tell him?"
"because- i just can't! he's-" you clear your throat before leaning in and lowering your voice, "he's literally taking someone else out on a date- we're here to buy flowers for his date-"
"so what?" yoongi interrupts, "it's just a date. it's not like you're stopping his wedding."
"so what? because he doesn't like me back, so what's the point?" you hiss, resisting the urge to reach over and smack some common sense into this very nosy and very stubborn stranger, "this isn't a romantic comedy- and even if it was, i'm very obviously not the main character-"
"you don't know that he doesn't like you back."
...
well now he's just toying with you
"i... i can't tell if you're kidding or not-"
"do i look like i'm kidding?" yoongi asks, pointing to his poker face before shaking his head, "you don't know that he doesn't like you back. you've obviously never asked him."
"oh, please." you scoff, turning around to lean back against the counter again, "trust me, i know it."
"well, did he ever explicitly say that he didn't like you?" yoongi leans over to peek at jungkook over your shoulder, "do you have a definitive answer to this particular question?"
"no, but he doesn't have to... we're just friends." you frown, your eyes wandering over to the back of jungkook's head, "he doesn't like me. i know he doesn't. we're just friends."
we're just friends.
(saying it out loud is a lot more depressing than you thought it'd be.)
"well, maybe the reason why you're just friends is because the two of you won't allow yourselves to be more than that," yoongi suggests, your head tilting to the side slightly as you force yourself to consider his surprisingly wise words, "it's obvious that you have a solid friendship so it would suck if a relationship ruined that- so maybe he does like you and is only asking someone else out to try to force himself not to like you..."
you feel your heart skip a beat when jungkook turns to glance at you over his shoulder with a soft smile while seokjin continues rattling off about the vast choice of teddy bears available for purchase
you bite back a giggle when he mouths a desperate 'help' at you before raising his hand and twirling his finger next to his head to tell you that seokjin is fully crazy
"...so i guess what i'm trying to say is that you're never really going to know how he feels about you if you don't ask him," you tune back in to the end of yoongi's little speech and you turn your head slightly to glance back at him, "but what do i know, right? i just polish counters at high-end flower shops."
🎙️tell jungkook he's being an idiot or tell y/n to get a backbone (send in an ask!)
✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)
💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series like smitten!)
🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)
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1kook · 4 years
Text
attachment: 1 image
— jjk x (f) reader
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summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v  wc; 4.6k 
notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩
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You’re at work when it happens.
It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.
You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.
You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.
You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.
But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.
It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.
“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.
There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.
But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.
you what’s this about?
You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—
As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.
jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby
Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.
You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.
you 4pm :(
Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.
jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?
You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.
you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale
Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.
jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?
You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.
Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.
jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad
Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.
you mm you makin me wet bunny
It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.
When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.
It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.
You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.
Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.
Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.
jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??
Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.
It doesn’t help.
Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.
you after work you promise
Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.
Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.
The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.
A pleasant surprise awaits.
It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.
But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.
jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??
jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)
jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just
And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.
You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.
Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.
But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.
Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.
But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.
He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.
“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.
“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.
Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.
“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.
“Uh huh,” he says.
The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”
He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”
Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.
But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.
The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”
You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”
He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”
You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”
“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”
A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”
Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”
Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”
“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”
He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”
Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”
“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.
Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”
You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.
“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”
The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”
Admittedly, no.
Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.
So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.
“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.
Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”
A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.
“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.
“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.
“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.
You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.
He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.
When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.
“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.
Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”
You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.
Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.
you shift ends in 20
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subspencer · 3 years
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Yoooo we all know baby Spencer would cum in his pants a lot but what if he cums in his pants when he’s asleep and tries to sneak out of bed so you don’t figure it out. After like the 7th or 8th time you try to stop him to figure out why he always does this and he gets really shy trying to explain why he gets up so much 😫😫❤️❤️
i’m dead at him doing this so consistently. i think this would be so good if it wasn’t with an established relationship/just a lot of mutual pining and sexual tension from spencer. by default you’d share rooms on cases but neither of you want to admit that it’s on purpose you share it because you have a crush on the other. wont admit it even when you cuddle, and at some point the cuddling stopped being the ‘we fell asleep apart but then slowly drifted together through the night’ type and became the ‘we decided to cuddle before we fell asleep’ type. it actually only makes the crush worse because he’s so nervous to misinterpret the situation but at this point he’s not only dreaming about you, he’s also holding you as he does it, inhaling your shampoo, feeling your soft skin. all of that only makes his dreams more... intense? realistic almost? they turned from sweet innocent dreams to dreams about fucking you against the hotel room desk, of waking you up in the middle of the night to go at it in this same spooning position you’re in now, of pretty much every creative way he could have you right now. and as he thinks of it, he’s taking you in from all his senses, and he can feel your ass nestled against his crotch. he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it but his hips just need to rock forward ever so slightly a few times and it’s enough for him to lose himself.
you eventually pick up on the pattern that he gets up in the middle of the night for ten or so minutes before sneaking back in, wrapping his arms around you like nothing happened. you’re concerned it’s because he’s not sleeping well, so you ask him about it the next night before bed. but his reaction is so blushy and he looks embarrassed so that’s obviously not it. since he won’t tell you, you drop the question but you have a second theory now. so you decide to test it. once he relaxes from the stress of your question and tucks in for a cuddle, you wait all but five minutes before you start shifting around. subtly pushing back into him, moving your hips a bit more than necessary. sighing heavily. and he could keep his mouth shut, pretend he’s asleep, but his soft whines makes it clear he’s obviously not. you turn your neck to face him and he can’t lie his way around the fact that he’s fully hard pressed against you. but you don’t seem to mind it so he musters up the courage to pull your hips closer, using one big hand to rock them against his own as he dives down to kiss you. it’s rushed and urgent and eager, but in seconds both of you are shedding clothes
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marry me
Summary: Shang-Chi and (Y/N) are best friends, but it's not enough. They want to be more, but can they be more?
Warnings: Angst? No spoilers for Shang-Chi and the Legend of the the Ten Rings, just one reference to the movie but it's not a spoiler.
Pairings: Shang-Chi x platonic!reader
Word Count: approx. 2,423
A/N: I based this off the song Marry Me by Thomas Rhett. Go give it a listen, it's a great song! I want to make more fics for Shang-Chi that aren't as angsty as this, but I wanna wait until more people have seen Shang-Chi so I can include scenes from the movie. Hope you enjoy this ❤️
“She wants to get married; she wants it perfect”
“So, when are you two getting married?” Your grandmother asked as she pointed between you and Shang-Chi.
You spit up your water, “Nana, we’ve been over this. Shaun and I are just friends.”
“Then why do you have a scrapbook in your room titled ‘My Dream Wedding’ if you don’t plan on getting married.” She sassed her granddaughter.
This isn’t the first time she had asked us if we were together. Every time (Y/N) just brushed it off as her being old and stuck in her ways. But this is the first time that I’ve heard of this scrapbook. “A scrapbook? This I have to see.” I grinned at (Y/N), her faced flushed and you could basically see the wheels in her mind working up an excuse as to why her nana had said that. But she couldn’t think of any.
“Nana, what did I tell you about snooping?” (Y/N) turned to scold her.
“What? I’m old and have nothing better to do. It has some very beautiful ideas. Have to both worked out the details or are they all your plans dear?”
(Y/N)’s face turned a deep red as I burst out in laughter. “Come on (Y/N), I have to see this” I held out her hand to bring her to her bedroom.
“Look, I’ve been planning my wedding since I was little, okay? I just want to let you know this isn’t some creepy shrine for you and me or something like that.” She said as she hesitantly took the book down from her top shelf above her bed frame.
“Oh, don’t worry, I KNOW this is a dedication to me and our love. You don’t have to hide it.” I chuckled as she punched my arm and gave me a threatening look.
“So basically, I have pictures that I’ve cut out from magazines or printed off from TV shows that I watch with my Nana that I think would go well with my overall theme.”
“She wants her granddaddy preach in the service”
“I originally was going to have my Papa do the service, but that was before he passed last year.” She looked down at the picture of him that she cut out and tapped down at the end of a poorly drawn alter. She put on a sad smile and sighed, “Hopefully by the time I do get married Nana is still around and I can get her ordained online. Then she can speak for both of them.”
“I’m sure she would love that.” I put a hand on her back to sooth her. She was the closest with her grandfather. Since her parents passed away in a car accident when she was young, they were all she had and he spoiled her rotten. Nana warned him not to let her turn too spoiled, they didn’t want her being a brat. But he assured her that he was just showering her with love. I couldn’t help but understand now why her grandfather would go through such trouble to make sure she felt loved. She is worth it.
“And she wants magnolias out in the country”
“I want to have the ceremony outside, have the alter be surrounded by magnolia trees.” She turned the page to pictures of roads and sidewalks lined with magnolia trees, beautiful shades of pink and white blooming across the page.
“Why magnolias?” I remember her telling me years ago that her favorite flower was a white rose, so I thought that she would for sure have those.
“They were my mother’s favorite.” She smiled, “If I’m going to have a ceremony where I’m bringing someone into my family, I want them all there. Even if it’s just in spirit.” She chuckled as she pointed to the single picture of her mother with a crown of magnolias on her head, spinning around in the sun. “I would always make her flower crowns of them, and I think that’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”
“I think that her seeing you on your wedding day would’ve made her even happier.” I say, hoping to reassure her. I never met her mother or father. They were gone before I even came to the US. But when I met her, she had this spark in her still, I imagine that it’s the spark she got from her mother. The same spark she seems to have in this photo.
“Not too many people, save her daddy some money”
“So, how are you planning on paying for all this? I mean, realistically a job valeting cars won’t get you far.” I was hoping to try to get her to change the subject so she wouldn’t get too upset looking through this book.
“My daddy left me his savings in his will. My Nana and Papa saved it for when I went to college, but I got enough scholarships I didn’t need it. So, I figured I’d save it for my wedding or buying a house.” She shrugged, “Like I said, I want all the people important to me with me that day. But I will have to have a smaller ceremony because it’s not that much money he’s left. I think I’d invite family and the few close friends that are like family.”
“She got it all planned out. I can see it all right now. I’ll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back.”
“Of course, I’ve made sure you’ll be on the guestlist.” She flipped the next page and pointed to the picture of me and her on prom night our senior year. I’m in a black suit and tie, she had a soft blush pink dress that flowed down to the floor with white magnolias in her pinned-up hair. This was the first time I was able to really picture it all. Not just looking at pictures, but what it would look like as I walked around the place myself. I can see myself hiding in the back as we get ready for the ceremony to start, making some last-minute adjustments to my suit. Making sure my hair looked okay.
“I’ll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without crying, so nobody sees.”
I’d probably have to take a shot to ease my nerves. I wonder if I’d be one of those people who would cry as soon as she walked down the aisle.
“This is the dress that I want.” Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts, she showed me a dress that would fit her perfect. It was flowing but puffy. She had a long train and lace accents all over. She would look like a princess. I can see her perfectly in the dress, and not just because she cut a photo of her head out and taped it over the model of the dress, but because I think it is exactly the type of dress, I would expect her to wear. This answers my question, I would definitely be the first one to cry as I saw her walking down the aisle.
“It’s perfect. You’ll look perfect.” I whisper to her. I could see her holding onto my every word. Like she wanted to hear nothing more than those words. I slowly moved my hand from her back up to her cheek and cupped her face. “Everything is perfect.” I tell her. Her skin lights up under my touch, as if it’s a flame setting fire to her body.
“Yeah, she wanna get married. But she don’t wanna marry me. I remember the night when I almost kissed her. I kinda freaked out, we’ve been friends for forever. And I’d always wonder if she felt the same way.”
I’ve never wanted to kiss her more than right now. I’ve thought about it before, but never needed it like I do right now. She started to lean in, eyes fluttering shut. It’s now or never. But something stopped me. I don’t know if it was my nerves, or if it was just too much all at once, imagining us get married, but I just couldn’t do it. She felt me pull away and stopped herself, she shot her eyes open and realized that she read the situation wrong. But she didn’t read it wrong, I just chickened out. I’ve wanted this since the day I met her, but it was just too scary. What if we ended up breaking up and hating each other? She was too important for me to lose.
She just cleared her throat and acted as if nothing happened, turning the next page of her scrapbook.
“When I got the invite, I knew it was too late. And I know, her daddy’s been dreadin’ this day. Although he don’t know he ain’t the only one givin’ her away.”
I woke up to the sound of my alarm, turning over to shut it off I felt the paper I had cried over last night. An invite to (Y/N)’s dream wedding. After the night when she showed me her scrapbook, she seemed to become distant. I don’t know if it’s because we almost kissed and I seemed to reject her, or if she just got too busy with her new boyfriend, but it broke my heart more and more every day until I was just numb. That was 3 years ago, now she had moved on and found someone who wasn’t afraid to grow up and commit to her.
I’d been to see her Nana a couple times after she had started dating him and she scolded me just as I had scolded myself.
“You know, I was really hoping it would’ve been you. You would’ve been perfect together.” She shook her head in disappointment as I helped her in the kitchen while (Y/N) and her boyfriend set the table in the dining room. “I don’t like him as much as I like you.” She sighed and went back to chopping her tomatoes.
“No one’s more disappointed than I am Nana.” I looked down at my hands, feeling empty without hers in them.
“I’ll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back. I’ll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without cryin’ so nobody sees. Yeah, she wanna get married, but she don’t wanna marry me.”
“Hey, did you get the invite?” (Y/N) called me shortly after I’d woken up, knowing when my alarm was set for.
“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“I know that we haven’t been… the closest lately… but I hope you’ll still come. Afterall you’re in the scrapbook.” She chuckled, hoping she could bring me around to the idea of going. She still didn’t know why I’d distanced myself from her all these years. I can imagine I’ve hurt her, but I only hurt myself every time I see her with him, so I had to do it. “I asked Sam if he’d be willing to make you a best man, since I can’t have you as a bridesmaid. He said of course you could be. It really would mean the world to me if you would.”
While I wanted to be nowhere near Sam, helping him celebrate his wedding day with the love of my life, I wanted nothing more than to be there for her. No matter how she wanted me there.
“Of course, I’ll be a best man. I wouldn’t miss your wedding if the world was ending.” I smiled through the phone, knowing she wouldn’t see just how broken it was.
“Ah! Yay! I was hoping you’d say yes! I can’t wait to tell him. I’ll talk to you later, love you.”
I hung up before I could say anything back.
The day of her wedding came sooner than I’d hoped. It was a beautiful spring wedding with the pink magnolias surrounding the alter in full bloom. I was in a black suit and tie with a flask of whiskey hidden in my coat pocket. I was in the back helping Sam make his last preparations when I saw her.
“But she got on her dress now, welcomin’ the guests now. I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now.”
She was stunning. The sun shining off her in the most perfect way. She was out greeting guests before the ceremony started, in her reception gown, saving the real gown for later when no one would see. Even in this substitute dress I couldn’t help dropping my jaw when she turned my way. She came over to me and threw her arms around me. “I know I’m supposed to be getting ready, but I couldn’t wait to see you.” She whispered in my ear. God did I miss her.
“(Y/N), there’s something I want to tell you.” I start to work up the courage. It was now or never.
“But I ain’t gonna mess this up, so I wish her the best now. I’m in my black suit, black tie and out in the back. Doin’ a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask. I’ll try to make it through without cryin’ so nobody sees. Yeah, she wanna get married. But she don’t wanna marry me.”
“Yeah Shang-Chi?” She looked up at me as she pulled away from me. She looked so perfect. I just wanted to tell her everything on my chest and run away from all this with her. Live happily ever after. But this is real life, this is a wedding she’s planned out since she was a kid. She wants it to be perfect. I can’t take that from her.
“Everything is perfect. You look perfect.” I force a smile as she grins and giggles at me.
“You’re so dramatic, but I love that about you.” She kissed my cheek and told me she’d save me a dance as she went back to her dressing room to finish getting ready.
I pulled the flask out of my jacket and took a strong swig. Sam was calling me over to get in line at the altar.
Bridesmaids one through four walked down the aisle carrying bouquets of pink magnolias. She followed them up in her beautiful gown, straight out of her scrapbook. A bouquet of white roses with pink magnolias blossomed out of her hands. She absolutely took my breath away, but it wasn’t me she was marching towards.
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turtletimewriting · 3 years
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Tickletober- Day 2 Anticipation
Summary: Sokka and Zuko’s session
Note: The long awaited sequel!!! I know this doesn’t have a whole lot of tickling but I wanted to try and write something semi realistic and just normal. Just two people trying out tickling and so taking it steady and trying to joke while kinda stepping on each other’s toes. Happy Tickletober peeps!
Day One! 
Next Day!
_._._
Sokka, he decided, was useless. If he thought that the thoughts about tickling were already bad then it was nothing compared to after he agreed to be tickled. They were now relentless. That funny bubbling feeling in his stomach tingled away all day. They agreed they’d have the session (actually no, let’s call it the meet-up. Sounds way less official and scary) on Monday as most people would be out in classes and so they wouldn’t disturb as many people. That meant waiting two days. That was it! Just two days.
Sokka was going to go insane long before one day passed.
His thoughts never stopped. How would he be tickled? Would it be awkward? What if he wasn’t even ticklish! What if he was like… the most ticklish person ever? What if Zuko tickled his armpits and he was all gross and sweaty and then Zuko kicked him out of the flat forever? These all played on loop every single hour. Paying attention to lessons was just not a thing. Oh well, he’d catch up on the notes once he got this out of his system. Because, at the end of the day, that’s all this was. Just getting these thoughts out of his system so he can leave Zuko and his weird hobby alone.
 Every time he got too distracted he’d just remind himself of the most likely situation: He’d probably be a little ticklish and Zuko would most likely be very awkward around the whole thing, but that’s just Zuko. It would only last like ten minutes as he then realises that he doesn’t really get anything from this. Boom. All his previous thoughts about why Zuko liked this so much would be answered and he can move on to whatever next thing would consume his thoughts. Of course this was all easier to think about when it wasn’t the literal day of the ‘meet-up’.
 Monday rolled around and Sokka literally became a ball of nerves. Zuko walking into the kitchen to make breakfast made him jump and squeak. “Okay, do you still want to go ahead with the t… uh tickling today? You seem really on edge?” Zuko asked with concern through his mouthful of toast. Stupid kind Zuko.
“Uh, y-yeah! Sorry. I’m just really wound up about it all,” Sokka admitted.
Zuko swallowed and leaned over the table, “You won’t be like… letting me down or anything, Sokka. It really doesn’t matter. You can say no, I never wanted to pressure you into this or anything! We can call it off any t-“
Stupid kind Zuko. Making him say what he’s actually thinking. “N-no, not like that. I uh… I want to still be tickled,” The word, you know which one, got stuck in his throat as he was speaking. Once he got the word out, he felt his cheeks burn. Ugh, this is so embarrassing. “As in… I’m kinda almost looking forward to it?”
 Zuko stared at him before he saw it visibly click for him. Then his concern melted into a confident smirk. “Oh really? After all that bullying you put me through when I told you about my thing…” He smiled, slowly pulling himself out of his seat and stalking over. Sokka blushed violently.
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t call that bullying! I’ve been worse. You should’ve seen me when Katara and Aang first got together!”
“All those little comments… Only for you to turn around and feel the exact same thing. What are you looking forward to most about our little session?”
“Uh I’ve actually been calling it our meet-up!” Sokka squeaked, desperately trying to be strong enough not to immediately run when Zuko stood over him.
“Okay then. What are you looking forward to most about our little meet-up?”
A moment of silence passed. “You’re evil,” Sokka whispered.
“Yep,” Zuko replied, popping the ‘p’.
“I-I just! Like… what if I’m not even ticklish,” Sokka squeaked out as he closed his eyes. Zuko didn’t say a word before he finally dropped the act.
“Are you really worried about that? There’s actually this tumblr post that talks about that… It like… talks about how a lot of people who like… this aren’t actually sensitive or at least don’t laugh out loud. Some find it better to just pretend to laugh and still get the same experiences. Some are fine with reacting however they naturally do, like flinching or squirming. I have seen people talk about how you just need to surprise them or get them all wound up. It’s perfectly normal if you’re not. Doesn’t mean you can’t be involved or are lying or anything.”
“Huh…” Sokka responded.
“But something tells me you won’t really have to worry about that.” Zuko’s smirk was back and he immediately then faked an attack at Sokka. Who, of course, immediately shrieked and hugged his waist before descending into giggles. Zuko only smirked wider and walked off with a jaunty wave. “I’ll come knock on your door at around two. Bye Sokka.”
 Yeah, Sokka didn’t have any sanity left.
 Now, on an ordinary day, Sokka would just make the use of his free time to do some work or just appreciate the free time and fall down a rabbit hole on youtube. But no! Of course he didn’t do that! That would be too productive and actually entertaining. Instead, Sokka pressed play on his music and sat and stared at the clock until two o’clock finally crawled around.
 Then it was a minute pass.
Then two minutes.
Now it was five minutes past two.
 Sokka was practically sweating bullets and he had now given up on trying to clamp down on his smile. He sighed very loudly as if that would be enough to make his roommate realise the time. But that did nothing.
 It felt like time froze when he finally heard Zuko’s door open.
 Then quiet muffled footsteps heading to the kitchen.
There was a moment of silence.
Then water from the kitchen tap.
Then the closing of the cupboard.
 Sokka exploded into an exhale. Right, literally holding your breath while your roommate took his time messing around in the kitchen wasn’t exactly smart. Finally catching his breath, he walked into the kitchen also.
Zuko looked over at him with a smile before taking another sip from his glass. “Hello Sokka.”
How dare he. His stupid mind games! Maybe the 16-year-old Sokka who hated the guts of Zuko at first sight, was on the right line. “Oh hello Zuko. I thought I heard your door go.”
“Yeah, just grabbing a drink. What you doing?”
“Uh, not much. I-it’s two o’clock.”
“Oh yeah.” Zuko even dared to look around at the clock before simply shrugging his shoulders, “Do you have a seminar or something to go to?”
“Oh I hate you.”
“What! Why? Sokka…” Zuko frowned way too over exaggeratedly. Sokka couldn’t help but wince. This felt very awkward. Was this part of it? Listen, Zuko’s teasing was one thing but being messed around with like a literal five-year-old was a completely different thing.
“Listen Zuko! Are we still doing this or-“
“Doing what? Can’t even say the word?”
At this, Sokka burst into laughter. He would’ve felt bad seeing Zuko just kinda deflate at that but then he remembered what he just said and lost it all over again. “Say which word, Zuko? Go on! I forgot the word! Say the word tickling!”
 Despite having recorded tickle teases for months, Zuko always completely froze at the word tickling. In any context. And, predictably, he immediately burst bright red before glaring weakly.
 “Whatever…” Zuko grumbled before finally succumbing to Sokka’s own contagious laugh. “Sorry. I-I’ve only really done this… online. And then the only thing you can really do is teases.”
“It’s fine. Just… It was just a bit much. I’m feeling kinda awkward as it is. Not that that’s your fault! Don’t worry about it! Like… I’m still okay to go ahead but…”
“I get it,” Zuko smiled shyly.
 They both then stood there.
 “Right, so how do we like… begin?” Sokka nervously chuckled.
“Umm, I don’t actually know. It feels weird to just… start…” Zuko wasn’t making any eye contact.
“We’ve made too big a deal of it now,” Sokka chuckled before a little idea finally hit. Something that would immediately ruin this awkwardness. And that was to put himself back in charge of the situation. Trying not to seem too robotic, Sokka gave an evil grin before tazing Zuko’s sides. To which Zuko immediately fell limp to escape the very slight quick tickle. He looked up bewildered to which Sokka tried to give a confident evil grin but it wobbled dangerously.
“Now you’ve done it!” Zuko growled jokingly, laughing at the ridiculousness, and launching into a full sprint.
 Sokka was confident enough to admit he immediately turned tail and squealed like a girl as he ran around the flat. Thankfully, he got to his room before he felt his friend slam into his back. He was pinned to the floor with his hands flailing all over the place yet still being somehow defenceless. He closed his eyes tightly, already squealing. “Zukooooooo!”
“Yes, Sokka?”
He peaked open one of his eyes. Zuko wasn’t even tickling him. Yet he somehow couldn’t stop the giggling. “Oh…”
Zuko giggled too at how ridiculous this all was. He brought his hands up, wiggling them gently, before fake striking.
“AAAAAH!”
“Sokka. Still not getting you.”
“Zuko! Oh my… Ugh! You actually suck!”
“Okay, now I’ll do it.”
 “Zuko!”
“What?” Zuko giggled wildly.
“Stop it!”
“I just wanted to make sure your worries about not being ticklish was completely unfounded,” Zuko smirked before now actually diving into the tickling. He decided to start out light with some side squeezes to really get Sokka started on exploring tickling.
“HAahahahaha! AAAH! Zuko!” Some good laughter. He squeezed some more, maybe throw in some shaking when he clamped down, before he decided to jump more into it. Sokka was thrashing around but not really making an effort to stop him.
He spidered his fingers up his sides, well as much as he could while Sokka tried desperately to grab at his hands. But he was helpless against the gentle firm spidering up his sides. Sokka shook his head, throwing his head back .
 “Stop! HAHAHAA! STOP! EVIL MAHAN!” Sokka gasped.
Zuko nodded and whipped his hands away and got up from straddling him. Sokka was still too in the moment to notice until he felt his weight shift.
“Oh, what? Everything okay?”
“I should be asking you that!” Zuko gasped, looking around and grabbing the bottle of water that was sitting on Sokka’s desk and handing it to him. Sokka only gave him a weird look. “You said stop?”
“Oh, did I?”
Zuko raised a brow, “Um yeah?”
“Oh.” Sokka felt his eyes widening as he found himself knowing exactly what he wanted to do next. The fun playful moment had completely evaporated. He found himself disappointed at the fun ending so soon. “… Can we keep going?”
Zuko blushed uncontrollably before smirking evilly.
 And that was how curiosity killed the cat and how Sokka accidentally fell into the tickling community.  
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myhockeyworld87 · 3 years
Text
Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 22
Word Count: 2,440
POV: Sidney’s
Warngings: Language
Notes: So it’s been a hot minute for this story. Sorry about that guys, but thank you for being patient with me. As always love your feedback and Happy Reading!
Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist
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You couldn't believe that (Y/N) just wanted to up and go to Pittsburgh without even thinking about telling you. Well, she actually did tell you; it's just she'd made all the plans without giving any thoughts about what you wanted, and that's what aggravated you the most. She could've at least wanted you to drive her to the airport, but no, she'd simply called your sister to have her do it instead. It was going to be almost a month before you were able to see her and that just wasn't acceptable.
You were driving around in your car, not knowing where you were going until you landed at Nate's house. It was probably for the best that you didn't head to your parents, for they would probably take (Y/N)'s side. Nate was at the door before you could even ring the bell. "Hey man, what's up?"
 "Can I stay here tonight?"
 "Uh, sure." He stepped aside so that you could enter. "You and (Y/N) have a fight?"
 "Something like that."
 "Anything you want to talk about?"
 "Not really." Nate just sort of gave you a look. He didn't ask you anything more about (Y/N) the rest of the night which you appreciated. Instead, the two of you just ordered food and played video games, like you were twelve-years-old and not professional athletes. It was a nice change of pace but as you laid in Nate's guest bed tossing and turning you were regretting not being with (Y/N). Maybe she would have a change of heart and end up staying. That was doubtful, considering they needed her at the house, and she took her job very seriously. There was always the off chance that she would fly there then fly back. That option seemed more realistic and the one that you hoped would happen as you laid there staring up at the ceiling.
 Eventually, you were able to fall asleep, but it seemed like hours before that actually happened. You headed off to train with Nate in the morning like you usually did. As the two of you were warming up, he broached the subject again. "So ready to talk about what happened yet?"
 "It's stupid really. They need (Y/N) back in Pittsburgh. I told her that I wanted to go with her and she said no because we were in the middle of training here."
 Nate just waited for you to say more, but you didn't. "And you're mad about that because?"
 "Well, she could fly back after she takes care of things, but she's not. She's just going to stay in Pittsburgh for the next month while I stay up here."
 "Isn't it more like three weeks?"
 "God, you sound like her now." (Y/N) had argued the same point last night. "I mean I suppose if you want to get technical about it, it's three weeks and a day."
 "Weren't you already cutting training short to go back with (Y/N) though? Like I thought you'd at least be here another week or so."
 "Maybe, but she didn't need to know that."
 You could see Nate thinking things through, at least he was finally understanding your side of the story. "So, let me get this straight. You left your house mad because your girlfriend has to go back to work and she wants you to stay here so that you're ready for the season?" When he put it like that, it didn't sound the way it had in your head, so instead of answering you just nodded. "And she's flying back when?"
 "Today."
 "Now wait, maybe I'm confused again," he said giving you a dumbfounded look. "But you're clearly upset because you won't be spending time together, right?" Again, you nodded. "So, instead of spending your last night with her, showing her all the things she's going to be missing in the next couple weeks you spent them at my house, eating pizza and playing call of duty?"
 God, you were an idiot. Nate was right, you should've spent the night with (Y/N) giving her a reason to want to fly back here, or at least let you fly back to Pittsburgh early. "Fuck, I'm stupid."
 "Yeah, you are."
 You side-eyed Nate, but you knew he wasn't going to let it slide. Checking your watch, you noticed you had about an hour until her she'd have to leave for her flight. You could run home real quick, tell her your sorry, and maybe show her what she would be missing. "I'll be back in an hour." Nate just winked at you and laughed, and you vaguely heard him say something like 'Go get her buddy.' But you weren't one hundred percent sure.
 Luckily, where you and Nate trained was only a ten-minute drive from your house and you made it there in record time. You rushed inside the door, not even sure if you left the car running or not. "(Y/N)!" you yelled as you looked around for her bags. You'd thought they'd be by the door waiting for Taylor. "(Y/N)!" Running upstairs, you opened the bedroom door, to find the bed neatly made. You threw open the closet doors, checking to see if she'd left anything in there. She hadn't. Her side was completely bare, except for the hangers which were empty. Your heart started to sink. Maybe Taylor had just picked her up early and you could get her to turn around. You dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail, so you tried Taylor instead.
 "Hey Sid," she said and you noticed she had a very cool tone with you.
 "Tay, is (Y/N) with you? You're not too close to the airport yet, are you? I mean there's still time to turn back around."
 "Sid, (Y/N)'s not with me. She took an earlier flight when someone," Taylor paused and you knew that she was pissed at you as well. "Decided to not come home last night. She didn't even let me take her, just called an Uber to drive her. I don't know what the hell happened between you two, but you fucked up big time brother."
 "I know that, why do you think I hauled ass home." You blew out a frustrated breath that she was already on her way to Pittsburgh. "Now what do I do?" You kept going before Taylor could even say a word. "Normally, I'd just jump on a plane and try and make things better, but I have a feeling that's the last thing (Y/N) wants me to do, but I can't just do nothing, you know?"
 "I repeat, you fucked up big time."
 "Thanks, you're so much help."
 "Look, you're stuck between a rock and a hard place. All I know is that you better fix it, because (Y/N) is the best thing that's happened to you besides hockey."
 "I know that." Taylor scoffed at your response. "Ok, so I might have had a lapse in judgment last night." And now you were regretting it, but you had no idea what to do.
 "I think it's safe to say, you better give her some time to cool off. I'm sure she's heading over to the house to get things straightened out as soon as she lands. Just call her tonight and…well grovel."
 It wasn't the best plan in the world, but what else could you do. "Thanks, sis, I'll definitely do that." The two of you said your goodbyes and then you made a quick call to your florist in Pittsburgh to have flowers delivered to (Y/N) as a peace offering. Only after that did you head back to the training facility. You threw yourself into the workout, trying to forget that (Y/N) was now in Pittsburgh and that you wouldn't see her when you got home tonight or any other night for the next couple of weeks. It was frustrating, but as Nate tried to remind you later on in the day, that was the way most relationships were. The fact that (Y/N)'s job with the organization let you see her every day was a bonus; a luxury that most players didn't have.
 It was around seven in the evening that you walked into the empty house. You'd picked up something for dinner on the way home and sat in the living room eating with Sammy watching, while you debated on what to say to (Y/N) when you called. You worried that she wouldn't answer the phone and that she'd send you straight to voicemail, so whatever you said had to be good enough to get her to call you back.
 It was something you didn't have to worry about, as she answered on the second ring. "Hey, Sid." She wasn't her usual jovial self, but she didn't seem extremely angry either. In all honesty, you couldn't really read her tone.
 "Hey (Y/N)." There was a pause as your mind went completely blank. "I'm sorry." It wasn't the fancy apology you had planned but it was heartfelt.
 "I'm sorry too, Sid." You really didn't know what she had to be sorry about. "I should've called you the minute I knew I had to come back to Pittsburgh." Before you could say anything, she continued. "And I should've let you drive me to the airport."
 When she finally took a breath, you jumped in. "No, you have nothing to be sorry for. You were just doing your job, and I…well, I was acting like a brat." She laughed then, and you would've given anything at that moment to see her smile. Why you hadn't facetimed her, you weren't sure at this moment, other than you were a coward. "I should've never stormed out of the house like that and not come back, that was completely juvenile of me."
 "It was, I won't argue that. I wish you would've stayed so we could work things out."
 "I promise that it won't happen again." Though you didn't plan on fighting with her again either. "I really am sorry (Y/N). Can you forgive me?"
 "Always." And just like that the world seemed right again, only you couldn't kiss her or hold like you wanted to, but you would definitely make up for that in a few weeks.
 "So, how's Pittsburgh? Is the roof still on my house?"
 "Pittsburgh is good, and I'm assuming your house is fine or someone would've called."
 "Aren't you there now?"
 "Um no, I'm at my place. Why would I go to your place if you're not there?"
 "Why wouldn't you?"
 "Because that's your house and I have one of my own." You could hear the irritation in her voice and knew you were headed down a slippery slope but you went anyways.
 "We've been living together for months now, so why wouldn't I think that that would continue."
 "Maybe because you never asked me to move in with you."
 "I didn't think I had to." As soon as the words were out of your mouth you wanted to take them back. They felt wrong, even to your own ears, and now you knew why you hadn't facetimed her, it was so that she couldn't see you wince when you fucked upped like you just did. "I didn't…"
 She was about to say something when you heard a man in the background yell. 'Hey (Y/N), the food's here.'
 "Who the hell is that?" She'd literally been gone for less than twenty-four hours and she already had a guy over at her house. You were livid. How could she do that to you? "We had one fight and you're already fucking someone else?"
 "Are you fucking kidding me right now Sidney? Did you really just say that?" She was yelling but then so were you. "You're un-fucking-believable you know that. I would never in a million years do that." Somewhere deep down you knew she was right, but at that moment you were too angry to see it. "For your information, I ran into Cully at the airport, and since Bridget and the kids are still in Minnesota, I invited him over to grab some take out. If you don't believe me you can call and ask him."
 Fuck, you knew Matt had been planning on going back to Pittsburgh early; you'd talked to him on the phone about it the other day. Now you felt like a complete ass. "(Y/N), I'm sorry…"
 "Save it, Sid. I don't want to hear it. Goodbye." She hung up the phone then, you could imagine her slamming it down if it actually been a regular one and not her cell. You pulled her number back up and called her back hoping to apologize. It went straight to voicemail.
 On the third attempt, you decided to leave a message. "(Y/N), I'm so incredibly sorry. Of course, I didn't think that you were sleeping around. Jesus, I don't know what's gotten into me. I sorry. I'm just so fucking sorry, babe. Please pick up the phone." You hung up, planning on waiting five minutes before calling her back, only you made it two. She still didn't pick up. Your only option was to try and call Cullen. He actually did answer.
 "Look Sid, I know you want to talk to her, but it's not a good idea right now."
 "Please, I just need to tell her how sorry I am. I fucked up man and I need to make it right."
 There was a pause on the line and you hoped that Matt was somehow convincing her to get on and talk to you. "She doesn't want to talk to you right now, Sid, and for the record, nothing is going on with the two of us."
 "Jesus, I know that. I just…fuck." If you could only talk to her. Make her see that you were just being a jealous idiot, that you loved her so damn much you couldn't see straight.
 "Just give her some time. I'm sure she'll come around," Matt told you. "And not like five minutes ok. Like some real time. I've been in your shoes before. She'll forgive you."
 "God, I hope so." You really, really hoped so, because there was no way in hell you could lose her over something like this. "Tell her I'm sorry."
 "I will."
 Matt went to hang up but you stopped him. "Wait…tell her I love her too."
 "Will do man." With that, Matt hung up the phone, while yours dropped to the floor, as you put your head in your hands. You'd really fucked it up time this time, and if she took you back it'd be a  miracle.
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sagamemes · 3 years
Text
the sheridan tapes  📼  part two.   here and under the cut, you can find over 130 lines of dialogue from the horror podcast the sheridan tapes, specifically from episodes four to six, edited for roleplay purposes. some of these focus heavily on survival, war, science, and spooky stuff, but a lot can be used by anyone.  tw:  war, unreality, a mention of cannibalism, implications of manic behaviour.
❝  god, i hate snowstorms like this. not just getting caught in them, but the storms themselves. it feels like the earth’s trying to bury me alive every time it locks in like this. like nature’s rightly pissed off at all of us and doing its level best to crush us to death.  ❞
❝  that’s what yom kippur means:  the day of atonement.  ❞
❝  that wasn’t the first time i’ve caught him in my office, going through my stuff.  ❞
❝  normally i’d be annoyed at someone calling me young lady.  ❞
❝  thank you… you are so warm… thank you for letting me in.  ❞
❝  suddenly, everything fell into place. i made more progress than i had in about half a year.  ❞
❝  the thing i remember most was catching disapproving glances from my father every time i went to the library.  ❞
❝  why does time only run forward?  why does cause need to precede effect?  ❞
❝  no one knows if they can trust me with casework or not.  ❞
❝  i didn’t say i was interested.  ❞
❝  [he/i] was taken off duty and sent for psychiatric evaluation the next day.  ❞
❝  coffee. i was making coffee.  ❞
❝  i didn't mean to get stuck out here.  ❞
❝  that just goes to show how small humans really are in the grand scheme of things:  take away our tools and our toys and our technology, and we’re still just as vulnerable as we ever were.  ❞
❝  she was good at that:  making you feel like you were safe, like you could open up to her.  ❞
❝  i’m just going to cover that one up. no harm in keeping it out of sight for the moment.  ❞
❝  maybe there was someone in the stairs.  ❞
❝  i think i did the lion’s share of the talking, which almost never happens.  ❞
❝  i couldn’t get to sleep... i figured i’d get a head start today.  ❞
❝  i’m afraid i don’t have all of the details of your involvement with the… tragic events in [place]. and i don’t think i’m the only one.  ❞
❝  i’m still not sure i understand the whole tradition.  ❞
❝  whatever it is, it’s chasing me. i can hear it’s footsteps in the snow, i can hear it—  ❞
❝  when you work nights here, the less you really think about them, the better.  ❞
❝  honestly, i just can’t get it out of my head.  ❞
❝  snow is one of nature’s simplest and most effective ways of killing you dead if you aren’t prepared for it.  ❞
❝  i wish you’d tell me what you’re doing here. i could lose my job if anything gets broken or if you end up getting hurt in there…  ❞
❝  would you say you… considered her a friend?  ❞
❝  would you mind saying your name again?  for the recording?  ❞
❝  if that was true, then there was something—and as a scientist, i hate to say this—supernatural going on in that lab.  ❞
❝  most of them didn’t make it. a lot of them died afraid and alone, too.  ❞
❝  i know you don’t like listening to these things, so i just wanted to help you out with…  ❞
❝  if i could sleep, then trust me, i would.  ❞
❝  i’m guessing the new owners are trying to make this place seem less creepy than it already is.  ❞
❝  my schooling was expensive and unremarkable.  ❞
❝  a lot of them died afraid and alone, too:  ideal conditions for the making of poltergeists, in my experience.  ❞
❝  look, i’m sorry, but this really isn’t a good time for anything, so if you wouldn’t mind…  ❞
❝  basically, i was picturing a slightly creepier morticia addams. i couldn’t have been more wrong.  ❞
❝  now i have to deal with [name]’s aspirations to write drama..  ❞
❝  i promise i won’t get you sacked.  ❞
❝  i’ve never been very religious, but for some reason… it made me think of hell.  ❞
❝  i think it may have been a thank you.  ❞
❝  i’m working the graveyard shift and i noticed the lights were on.  ❞
❝  i shouldn’t be here. no one asked me to come in this early.  ❞
❝  everyone around here looks at me like i’m some kind of leper.  ❞
❝  i had to go home for a few hours. i’m already on thin ice around here, and i didn’t want to get in more trouble for screaming obscenities up and down the wall.  ❞
❝  it was… darkness. no, that doesn’t do it credit, the whole place was dark. this was just... void.  ❞
❝  if i’d seen her anywhere else, i’d think she was an athlete or a backpacker.  ❞
❝  better scientists than me have been bashing their heads into that particular wall since 1927.  ❞
❝  i just want you to know that… whatever you really are... you’re safe here.  ❞
❝  goats being goats, it would just come back the next day looking for food.  ❞
❝  i would like you to leave my office now… and i’ll ask you not to tamper with evidence in the future, understood?  ❞
❝  no, of course, i don’t have signal out here, so i can’t just call triple-a.  ❞
❝  what are you doing in my office—at four goddamn thirty in the morning?  ❞
❝  you ever wonder where the line is?  you know, between human and not?  ❞
❝  the funny thing i’ve noticed about war:  no matter how terrible the fighting is, there always seems to be too much waiting. too much quiet. too much sitting around, bored to tears between fits of chaos and violence, lost in routine while waiting for the other shoe to drop.  ❞
❝  a lot of people condemn them for that. we’re so sure we’d never resort to that—that we’d rather die than cross that unspoken boundary.  ❞
❝  i’ve been at the [workplace/institution] for ten years now. that’s long enough to know that the ones who ask questions are the ones who can’t cut it.  ❞
❝  the program blew every fuse in the lab. including the lights.  ❞
❝  it was soon after they left that i began to have trouble sleeping.  ❞
❝  perhaps we never knew each other as well as most friends do, but… we cared for one another.  ❞
❝  most of her questions are a bit above my pay grade.  ❞
❝  i’m trying, i’m trying! i can’t get the door open!  ❞
❝  i don’t know why she needed my help:  i think she had a better grasp of it than most science fiction writers.  ❞
❝  we both had places to be afterwards, so we kind of rushed. i really wish i’d taken the time to say goodbye.  ❞
❝  i guess some things just… don’t want to stay buried.  ❞
❝  it was completely against orders of course, but no one really noticed or cared that far from the front.  ❞
❝  i offered to buy him a cup of coffee.  ❞
❝  newspapers praised them at the time:  saw them as heroes of exploration and paragons of pioneer courage.  ❞
❝  i signed a lot of big, scary nda’s during my time there.  ❞
❝  i did the only thing that came to mind:  i took a grenade from my belt, removed the pin, and threw it.  ❞
❝  i doubt this storm will last more than a couple of days, and once it lets up we can sneak out of here and get going again. very, very carefully.  ❞
❝  given enough time, everything will rot away to its elementary components, and that, you can’t reverse.  ❞
❝  i really can’t see anything from inside the van.  ❞
❝  i knew there were a few experiments that dealt with some pretty high-level theoretical concepts, but i wasn’t directly involved with any of them.  ❞
❝  it’s a strange choice, but then again, he’s a strange man.  ❞
❝  i know, it sounds ridiculous. trust me, i’ve done everything i can think of to make that conclusion go away.  ❞
❝  scared the bejeezus out of a bunch of skiers, but they were nice enough to let me in after deciding i probably wasn’t a ghost.  ❞
❝  please… it burns my skin… please…  ❞
❝  i forgot how fast storms blow in up here.  ❞
❝  it’s not like i felt out of control:  it felt more natural than breathing.  ❞
❝  i didn’t know what i was doing, not at any conscious level. but one step seemed to lead to another, then the next, and then the next.  ❞
❝  it’s called a butcher’s shop in some places, but a mortuary in others. as much as i’d love to imply there was some sweeney todd style recycling going on here, i think the place has just been a lot of things over the years.  ❞
❝  god, these things are creepy as hell.  ❞
❝  if you wouldn’t mind, please, tell us what happened? in your own time, of course.  ❞
❝  it took a few long, nerve-wracking days to work up my courage and visit the section again.  ❞
❝  it’s not that odd to think that people ate each other out there.  ❞
❝  i didn’t think there was a ghost in my room or anything like that, i just kept hearing noises whenever i was about to fall asleep.  ❞
❝  i downed half a dozen energy drinks at 6 and called it dinner—i know, i know, it’s a nasty habit i picked up in grad school.  ❞
❝  they told me that the cpu and motherboard had somehow been melted into a solid lump of plastic and silicon.  ❞
❝  i mean, [name] was a pain in the ass, but at least he didn’t…  ❞
❝  my schedule was full, but i had something else fall through at the last minute. i had your number on my desk, so i thought i may as well call.  ❞
❝  i wonder if it was afraid, or if it even realized what was going to happen. it probably didn’t.  ❞
❝  i need to get more coffee. or punch someone. whichever’s more convenient.  ❞
❝  god, if that’s really how i sound…  ❞
❝  people think i write horror, but i don’t really think that’s true. i just write fiction with all of the comfortable little lies taken out of it.  ❞
❝  i have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night.  ❞
❝  i think he felt something about this place… some influence or power that needed to be destroyed, so he tried to do it the only way he knew how.  ❞
❝  well, it’s a tricky thing. the more realistic you make them, the more… unreal they start to look. i think it’s something about the eyes.  ❞
❝  i offered to stay late, just to smooth things over.  ❞
❝  maybe i can get some writing done while i’m stuck here…  ❞
❝  no child could grow up in a jewish home surrounded by books and not read at least one story about golems.  ❞
❝  i just wasn’t a good student, despite my love of reading.  ❞
❝  i have to say, i like your jane doe.  ❞
❝  she was a scientist herself.  maybe not formally, but her way of thinking, her insight, her methods... they were scientist’s qualities.  ❞
❝  seriously, what do i need to do to get a little privacy around here, a little dignity?  hang a  ‘ do not disturb ’  sign on the door?  change all my locks?  ❞
❝  maybe it was stupid, but i figured, ‘ hey, early december, not a cloud in the sky—should still be fine, right? ’  ❞
❝  jesus, [name], i wasn’t born yesterday.  ❞
❝  maybe doing this while it’s still dark outside isn’t the best idea.  ❞
❝  more than a century and a half have passed, and this place is still just as dangerous as it was then.  ❞
❝  now, [mr./ms./mx. name], i’m sure you know why you’re here.  ❞
❝  the [event] was a bust—only about a dozen people showed up all afternoon.  ❞
❝  i never put much stock in the idea of inspiration, but for the first time in my life, it felt like i wasn’t pushing myself through the muck of miscalculation and guesswork towards a solution. i was being pulled towards an answer that already existed.  ❞
❝  it felt like i was a few steps from finding out something fundamental. some truth about our universe that no other scientist had ever dared to dream of.  ❞
❝  huh. that’s… that’s weird. i could’ve sworn there wasn’t a sculpture back there before.  ❞
❝  apparently, no one had told them what i was doing, and i wasn’t actually cleared to leave.  ❞
❝  maybe he’s trying to make amends. keeping watch over these half-living things to make sure no harm comes to them.  ❞
❝  i expected the building to be wreathed in shadow and overgrown with cobwebs, but it's actually really nice.  ❞
❝  sorry, i was trying to get my recorder working, but it froze up on me so i had to find a tape for this old…  ❞
❝  okay. just… don’t get me sacked, alright?  can’t exactly retire on this salary.  ❞
❝  but if it was real—i don’t know if i somehow created it, or if it was feeding me information about itself before it appeared.  ❞
❝  i’ve never had a manic episode before, and i was well below the level of caffeine needed to cause intoxication. as far as i can tell, there isn’t a medical explanation for what happened.  ❞
❝  i don’t get the appeal of meeting real celebrities. it’s just a cheap shock of recognition, and nothing more.  ❞
❝  whatever this… thing was, it sounds pretty dangerous.  ❞
❝  are you familiar with temporal asymmetry?  ❞
❝  i just want to make that abundantly clear:  this /wasn’t/ the plan.  ❞
❝  right then, now let’s get started. please state your name and rank for the record.  ❞
❝  though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light.  ❞
❝  a cracker of a book, young lady.  ❞
❝  no wonder they’re keeping them in storage. they’d give anyone nightmares.  ❞
❝  i was just going to finish out my shift unless… you want me to stick around?  ❞
❝  i went to the university, but don’t remember much of the years i spent there.  ❞
❝  having to study textbooks and essays day in and day out took all of the joy out of reading for a long time.  ❞
❝  we call paradoxes paradoxes for a reason:  no matter how plausible they seem, they can never really happen.  ❞
❝  i don’t know what happened to me that night. i still don’t even know if what i saw was real.  ❞
❝  when we look into the void for too long, we find the monsters instead.  ❞
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writingpuddle · 3 years
Text
The other night best friend and I (yes, that best friend) were riffing on trans Neil headcanons over the phone, but a realistic trans treatment of aftg gets dark real fast, so without further ado:
~The Mafia May Be Sexist (But It’s Not Transphobic!) AU ~
(tmmbsbintau, if you will)
Does this premise make sense? No, but if Nora can write about made up mafia sports, I can write a nonsense AU where transphobia doesn’t exist okay this is my party and ill be self-indulgent if i want to
We open with baby Neil, who was named after his maternal grandmother or smthg idk
Now lets say Neil is one of those “I always knew I was trans” kids
So even at a fairly young age he was like, nope this is wrong
For the most part his dad basically ignores him (what use is a girl to me???) but if he makes the mistake of getting in the way it’s the usual shit with knives and hot irons and basically Neil’s bog-standard Traumatic Childhood
His mom signs him up to play Exy to get him out of the house, and he loves it, because of course he does
Now tiny Neil may be terrified of his father
But remember transphobia isn’t real
So he when he’s about ten years old he tells his parents over dinner
His mom just puts her fork down and says that’s alright
But Nathan
Nathan
Nathan’s eyes start to glow
He has a son? Not a useless daughter?
He’s practically levitating with glee
And Neil, poor Neil, who has never had any positive reinforcement—from either parent, Mary, you’re not innocent in this—he soaks it up
Nathan puts both hands on his son’s—his son’s!—shoulders and dubs him Nathaniel
His son, his heir, his legacy
Mary takes one look at the possessive look in her husband’s eyes and thinks oh hell no
For the next few days Nathan absolutely showers Nathaniel with affection
He takes him to the hairdresser and buys him a whole new wardrobe, neglecting his mafia duties in order to dote upon his new son
It is possibly the happiest week of Nathaniel’s life
And then he wakes up in the night with his mother’s hand on his mouth and is given less than a minute to pack his things
Now he’s grown up in a criminal household; the notion of making a run for it isn’t exactly foreign to him
But it’s not until they’re in the car that Nathaniel realizes that his father is nowhere to be seen
Where’s dad? He asks
Shut up, his mother hisses, and slams the car into gear
From then on, he is never Nathaniel
His mother is 100% on board with his transition, but…not really anything beyond that
After all, people will be looking for a woman and a trans boy, which means Mary’s investment in Neil’s gender pretty much starts and ends with him passing as cis
She gets him all the medical treatments he needs (on the black market, since they’re on the run)—puberty blockers when he’s younger, testosterone when he’s older
But he’s never allowed to acknowledge being trans whatsoever
Not to his classmates, not to his teachers
He never gets the chance to have a queer community, or explore the nuances of his gender, because the only presentation they can afford for him to have is Masculine Cis Boy. The restriction is stifling. It’s suffocating.
Neil hates her for it
His life was, so briefly, perfect
He had his father’s love and approval for a day, a week, and he is both old enough to remember his father’s cruelty and young enough to believe that it could end
Nathan is incandescent
When he realizes what Mary has done he goes to the Moriyamas in a storm of fury
She stole my SON! He bellows
Now the Moriyama’s didn’t particularly care about Neil back when they thought he was a girl
Girls in the mafia are basically just for child-rearing, so he wasn’t a threat
So once they figure out what Nathan is talking about (this takes a sec, owing to Nathan having not previously gotten around to telling them about Nathaniel’s revelation), their first thought is that look, we might do the nepotism thing here in our family, but underlings don’t get to do the nepotism thing. Sorry, them’s the breaks
Obviously, Mary has to die—nobody’s disputing that, a woman who robbed her husband and stole his son? Only death will right that wrong—but Kengo tells Nathan that he’ll help find Nathaniel on the condition that he’s given to the Ravens upon capture
Nathan is utterly confident that his son—his son!—will perform admirably. He accepts the deal without a second thought
So they’re on the run for years and years, and Neil’s resentment towards his mother festers, but he never acts out too much, and he doesn’t contact his father
He almost does a couple times, but then he presses his hand to the iron scar on his shoulder and he can’t quite make himself go through with it
He’s sixteen when Nathan catches up with them in Seattle
There’s a shootout and Mary and Neil almost get away
But
Nathan arrives
Nathaniel! He shouts. My boy!
And Neil lurches to a stop
There is his father, walking towards him, his eyes still shining with the same fierce love and pride from when he was ten
Nathaniel, his father says. Hasn’t this gone on long enough?
Come home.
Mary is trying to drag Neil away, but he’s too fixated on his father
Can I? Neil asks. Can I really?
Of course, Nathan says. Everything is forgiven. I’ve even secured you a place on the Ravens. Didn’t you always love Exy? Come home with me, Nathaniel
Neil can barely believe it. His father is offering him everything he ever wanted. His mother has been keeping him from this, his whole life?
Why would they run?
And through this whole exchange Nathan has been getting closer, and Mary is pulling Neil back, and now he’s close enough to touch and the sound she makes is like something physical tears when she finally releases Neil and tries to flee
She isn’t fast enough
Nathan’s grin is as wide as the sun when his cleaver bites into Mary’s waist
Blood pours out
Neil screams
Mary clutches her side, staggering away, but it’s obvious she won’t make it far
Dad, no, Neil says. Don’t—
Shh, his father says. Don’t be afraid. She kept us apart all these years. She deserves to die.
And Neil—
Neil has hated his mother for most of his life
But he looks at the woman who has struggled so long to protect him—who has failed as often as she succeeded, but who fought anyway, everyday—and the man whose eyes are bright with glee at her pain
And he makes a choice
He only has a split second to see the betrayal in his father’s eyes before the pipe in his hand slams into his head and he pitches forward, unconscious
Neil does not wait to see if he survives
He grabs his mother and they run, her arm locked on his shoulder and her palm pressed to the wound on her side
Neil puts her in the passenger seat and jumps in, throwing the car in gear
You need a hospital, he says, frantic
No, she hisses, pinning a towel to her side. No hospitals
Guilt floods through him as he looks at her pale face
Sticky red handprints smear on everything she touches
I’m sorry, mom, he says, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—
Enough, she says. Drive
He drives
He drives, and drives, and he follows her instructions, and later he wouldn’t have been able to say if he actually thought she would survive; he believed it, because he had to, because he had never been without her; he knew better, because gut wounds are slow, but they are inexorable
He parks on the beach and there are tears pushing at his eyelids but he chokes them down
I’m sorry, he said, I never should have believed him. I’m sorry—
You never would have been enough for him, she says, and Neil flinches
Her hand finds his chin and she yanks him down to meet her eyes, her gaze fierce.
He never loved you, she says. He would have made you in his image, and when you failed he would have torn you apart. I would not—I would not watch him try to make my son a monster. Don’t—don’t waste it
Mom, what are you saying—
Promise me, she says
Promise you won’t go back to him
She is dying
Neil can’t refuse
He promises
She releases his face and her red fingerprints on his face burn like brands. He can feel them hours after the tears wash the blood away.
Her last few breaths are jagged as broken stones before she rattles to a stop, and Neil is alone
He burns her body and staggers out onto the road and he keeps moving, he keeps moving, because he knows if he stops he’ll shatter
His hesitation has cost him his mother’s life
But his action costs him his fathers love
In one blow, Neil broke the golden image Nathan had of his perfect son, and now all Nathan wants is to destroy him
He finds his way to Millport almost on instinct alone
He finds one of Mary’s contacts who can supply him with the hormones he needs to continue passing and squats in an empty house and speaks to none of his classmates
When the Exy team tryouts are announced, he goes, intending to only watch from a distance
Perhaps it is inevitable he’s sucked in
There is so little light in his life
Can he be forgiven for wanting one little spark?
The Foxes come for him in May, and Kevin doesn’t recognize him, because how would he? Even if they met as kids, Kevin never saw Neil post-transition
Wymack ends up telling him something about Kevin’s past and the truth about the Ravens, and Neil pales a little bit, remembering how his father had said he’d gotten Neil a place on their line-up and finally understanding why
And sometimes he looks at Kevin with blinding jealousy for the life Neil didn’t get to have, and sometimes he sees him nearly comatose with fear and drinking vodka like it’s water, and his stomach hurts thinking how cheerfully his father would have consigned him to the same fate
So canon proceeds and Neil still bitches Riko out on live TV, and Riko still manages to acquire Neil’s fingerprints
And would you believe that? The Foxes mouthy new rookie is [deadname], Nathan Wesninski’s brat?
Well, well, well
At the banquet Riko pokes and prods until Neil finally snaps, and as Dan drags the team away from the wreckage Jean grabs Neil’s arm and says, low and fast in French, You’ll meet with us later
Why the fuck would I do that? Neil demands
Because otherwise everyone will find out that the Butcher is your father
Neil can’t hide his flinch and Kevin’s eyes go wide
They flee the scene, but before they even reach Coach, Kevin is already rounding on Neil
Is it true? He croaks
Not now, Neil says
But Kevin reads confirmation in Neil’s deflection
I didn’t know [deadname] had a brother, he says
Now here is the thing
Names are obviously a touchy subject with a lot of trans people, and certainly with Neil in particular
But with everything that just happened, Neil is a bit preoccupied, and it’s been a long time since he’s associated himself with that name
Since before he stopped using it, truthfully
And so his response is out of his mouth before he can even think twice
“Who?”
Kevin nods seriously, because he is wise to the ways of mafia bosses, and it’s not exactly shocking that Nathan Wesninski had a mistress and a secret second child, especially considering his first child had been a girl
It’s several moments before Neil puts two and two together and realizes that he has inadvertently slipped through a perfect loophole
He’s failed his mother so many times, but at least this secret is still safe, and he clings to that
Neil’s gender doesn’t really affect his interpersonal relationships with the Foxes—he’s already changing out separately, so this isn’t even a whole other thing
It’s harder to hide his testosterone when he’s living in shared dorms, but he has everything in the safe and figures out the safest schedule to open it up when he’s sure Matt will be in class
Andrew finds out when they start hooking up
But remember transphobia isn’t real so it’s sort of more like Andrew goes to undo his pants and is like wait your dick is removeable? Okay.
And then he just gets on with it
So Binghamton and Baltimore happen as canon, and if Neil had ever harboured hopes that his father would forgive him and love him again, they’re broken for good when his father stalks in and sees him shivering and just grins
It is the smile of someone who has torn someone off a pedestal and is going to enjoy reducing them to dust
Nevermind that Nathan had been the one to put him on that pedestal in the first place
Stuart deus-ex-machinas us out of the maws of death and we end up back in that classic Baltimore scene with the Foxes, and they still claim him, and they still take him home
He tells them all about his mafia father and life on the run, and it doesn’t really click until later that he forgot to mention the trans thing
Not like he, you know, has to tell them, and being trans is hardly an issue in Exy since it’s co-ed, but it would probably be nice to see a real doctor instead of keep buying his hormones illegally
And moreover, he wants the Foxes to know him
So they hit the cabin in the mountains and everyone knows Neil doesn’t drink, but when Andrew pours him a shot, he takes it
Ooh, Nicky says, Is Neil about to start spilling his secrets?
Allison snorts. What secrets does he have left?
Uh, Neil says
Wait, Allison says. There’s more secrets????
Yeah, he says. Um, I’m trans
There’s a pause
Well, that’s no good, Allison said. We didn’t have a bet going on that
Everyone laughs, and Neil smiles, and he looks at the sunset and remembers his mother, and he remembers a life filled with hiding, and secrets, and loneliness
Bats swoop in the twilight beyond the cabin, and he turns towards the warmth and light inside, and he does not look back
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dameronology · 4 years
Text
the one where he catches feelings (mando x reader)
summary: after months of trying to hide his feelings, the thought of you with someone else is another to push the mandalorian over the edge 
warnings: swearing, jealousy, implied smut
enjoy!
- val xx
p.s this has barely been proof read because i am the worst
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The Mandalorian didn’t quite understand the concept of feelings. 
How could he? Before you, the nearest thing he’d ever got to a relationship was sleeping with the same person twice. He had long surpassed that number with you but that wasn’t the complicated part. He hadn’t even worried about catching feelings when you’d agreed on the casual arrangements - he was the Mandalorian. And the Mandalorian didn’t catch feelings. 
But contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t a droid. He wasn’t an emotionless void with a beer in one hand and a blaster in the other. Din Djarin - the human being behind the mysterious metal mask - was very, very capable of catching feelings. What had started as a casual arrangement between two touch starved friends had booted him up the arse and sent him into a death spiral. 
Not that he’d ever tell you . Absolutely not. Never, not even if you paid him a million credits. In fact, it was probably a good thing that he had to keep that tin can on his head 24/7 for fear of you being able to read his expressions of adoration. If the idea of you seeing his facial expressions was that terrifying, the possibility of you finding out about his actual feelings was enough to send him into a state of catatonia. 
That is exactly what brought him into his current dilemma. You’d docked up on a planet for a few weeks so that the kid could stretch his little green cankles and catch a few frogs - and on your first night, you and Din had crossed paths with a former flame of yours in a cantina. You’d agreed to go out for a drink with him and now all he could was watch in horror as you made yourself look beautiful for another man. He didn’t like that one bit. 
‘Mando!’ Your voice echoed throughout the cockpit as you kicked open the door, the smell of your perfume immediately overwhelming his senses. ‘Have you seen my boots?’
‘Y-your boots?’ He blinked in surprise, trying to act as though your appearance hadn’t just knocked the air out of his lungs. 
‘The things that go on my feet?’ You thinned your eyes at him. ‘Tauntaun got your tongue?’
‘No...I just…’ he cleared his throat, standing up. ‘You look nice.’
‘Oh, thank you.’ Now it was your turn to blink in surprise. His compliments were usually only the balls-deep kind (make of that what you will). 
Din knew that he had no place to be upset about the fact you were going out for a drink with another guy. You weren’t exclusive - far from it, in fact. You weren’t his partner; you could only be described as his partner-in-crime-and-occasional-babysitter-who-he-sometimes-shagged. 
Good luck finding a Valentine’s Day card for that title. 
‘This guy.’ Din cleared his throat. ‘Were you and him...serious?’
‘Are you asking if he was more serious than us?’
Us. Us. Us. 
He replayed the word over and over in his head. It sounded so right - us. You, him and the Child. A small, ragtag family of two parents and their weird, wrinkly child. It felt so perfect, the sort of thing that could finally give him a sense of security after years on his own. Din had never considered himself the kind of guy who wanted any of that; but then again, he’d considered himself a lot of things before he met you.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I was just curious. If tonight goes well, you might end up staying with him and I need to consider how that would affect the kid-’
‘- you’re full of shit.’ You cut him off. 
You knew that he liked you - and you liked him. Why else would you stay holed up in this absolute garbage can of a ship with him? You sure as hell weren’t doing it out of common courtesy. But you also weren’t going to wait around for Din to get off his ass and tell you that he liked you. The difference between him and the man you were seeing tonight is that the latter had asked you out.
‘But you can’t tell me it’s not a possibility.’ Din’s voice was cold.
‘You’re right.’ You shot back. ‘Maybe me and this guy will fall in love, get married and adopt ten frog-ass looking babies.’
‘Y/N.’
‘Be realistic, you tinhead.’ You lightly thwacked his helmet, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of it. ‘Remember that our frog-ass looking baby needs to be fed at 11 and asleep by midnight.’
‘He’s been in my care longer than yours, I know what I’m doing-’
‘- and if he goes toilet in his robes again, there’s some clean ones hanging up by your bed.’ You gave his shoulder a light squeeze. ‘See you later.’
‘Stay safe.’ And don’t fall in love with him
Din was silently kicking himself. He wanted you to be dressing up for him, getting ready to go out on dates with him - not whoever this...this nerfherder was. If only he could pull his head out of his shiny, beskar ass and just tell you. But he couldn’t. That’s where he fell short. 
And so he watched you walk off the Crest, a trail of perfume in your wake and the Child peeping out from his crib to wave his stubby arms at you. By all intents and purposes, you were his second parent; he was even more attached to you than he was to Din. He would babble and cry whenever you were absent, something that proved to drive the Mandalorian insane for the rest of the night. 
The Child wouldn’t shut up - he was crying one minute, giggling the next. If he wasn’t bawling and staring aimlessly at your empty seat, he was practically climbing the walls, performing surprisingly impressive acrobatics as he leapt from the switchboard and onto Din’s lap. 
‘I know, kid.’ Mando reached out to him, placing him gently in his lap. ‘I miss her too.’
--
It was approaching 2AM by the time you got back. 
You entered the jet as quietly as possible, holding your shoes in one hand as you clambered up the ramp. The night had gone fine - the guy you met was clearly into you. He’d had his hand on your thigh the whole time, his intentions staring right back at you the same way your reflection did in Mando’s helmet. After final call, you’d covered your half of the bill and left. 
You’d spent the whole night wanting to be back here - laying with Din and the kid, watching some ridiculous cartoon on the old holovid player in an attempt to entertain him. It was the never life you thought you’d want but things had a funny way of working out. They’d both fallen into your lap by chance and you were wondering how you’d even considered going out with someone else. 
Mando was sitting on the edge of his bed, the Child snoozing quietly in his arms. Most of his beskar was scattered on the floor; he was only wearing the helmet and the shirt and pants that went underneath. That was usually a sign that he was relaxed, at ease for once in his damned life. 
He would argue otherwise but you knew he’d probably been there hours, not having the heart to move and wake him. Below the armour, he had a huge fucking heart (and it belonged to you, obviously).
‘Hey, can man.’ You quietly greeted him. You took a seat beside him, softly taking the Child from his arms. ‘How you doing?’
‘I’m tired. He wouldn’t settle all night.’ Din replied. ‘How was your date?’
‘It wasn’t a date.’ You lightly elbowed him. ‘I just...it was just drinks.’
You slowly stood up, placing the Child in his crib. You closed up the lid and turned back to face Mando; the room was dim bar one small lamp, the light of which bounced right off his helmet and into your eyes. You wanted to rip the damn thing off and just look at him - read his face, his expressions. Then you might have known what the fuck was going through that mind of his.
Sometimes you could read him like a book - but a book where every other page was missing. He had some tells; little actions and noises that you understand. Other times, he was completely off with you. He’d make love to you in the night and treat you like an old childhood friend the next day. 
‘Why does it even matter to you?’ You continued. ‘Why do you care so much that I went out with another guy?’
‘I told you. If you stayed here, on this planet-’
‘- you know I wouldn’t do that!’ You cut him off. ‘This planet is much less of a shithole than this damned ship but you know I would never leave you or the kid.’
‘I can’t be sure of that.’ He bluntly replied. 
‘You are so stupid, Din Djarin.’
The Mandalorian knew that shit was about to get real when you pulled out his real name. You usually called him Mando, or some variant of affectionate, armour-related nickname. The last time you’d used his real title was when he’d almost died, months ago. Other than that, it was reserved only for the most dire of situations. 
‘Why?’ He stood up. You took a step back when he did, momentarily forgetting that he was a six-foot-man in a suit of steel. 
‘You know why.’ You jabbed your finger into his chest. ‘And if you weren’t so scared to say it, I wouldn’t have even thought about looking at another man, much less let him take me out for a drink and kiss me and touch my leg the whole damn night.’
(Most of that hadn’t actually happened but it was simply for argument’s sake. Go big or go home, after all). 
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ 
‘Great. So you won’t mind that I’m meeting him again tomorrow.’
(Another lie). 
‘I’m fine with that.’ 
(Also a whopper). 
‘Maybe I will stay here.’ You said. ‘See where my relationship with him goes, because at least he has the balls to tell me how he’s feeling.’
(Stop with the damn lying). 
You turned on your heel, boots clattering to the floor as you marched towards the refresher. Before you could reach the ladder, Din had hit the switch on the only light in the room. Darkness suddenly overcame the hull, causing you to stop in your tracks. A moment later, there was a clunking sound, the sound of beskar echoing off the walls of the ship. 
His helmet hitting the floor. 
He suddenly grabbed you, pulling you towards him with such force that your chest hit his with a thump. You were going to complain, to tell him that you wanted to sleep, dammit -
- Then he kissed you.
 Din had kissed you multiple times before but not like this. It was hungry, bordering on desperate, as if to say you’re not fucking going anywhere. And you weren’t. You had no intention of ever straying from him or the Child or the ship but you needed him to be honest with you. 
And this? This felt pretty damn honest. 
‘I’m not good with words.’ He murmured against your lips. ‘I never have been with you.’
‘Just say it.’ You whispered. ‘I’m right there with you.’
‘You promise?’
‘I prom-’
‘- I love you.’ He cut you off before you could finish. ‘You’re everything to me.’
‘I love you too.’ You softly smiled, hands roaming around his shoulders in an attempt to work around the darkness. ‘There’s no-one else.’
I know.’ Din pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. ‘Except that little womprat.’
‘Our little womprat.’
tags: @obirain @lizzyolanda1966 @thisisaredflag @aty-cgca7 
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
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The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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howggswouldreact · 3 years
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⌨️ Non-Zero-Sum Game | Sunmi
Request: Hey can I request a fluffy scenario where the reader is playing video games and Sunmi is bored so she tries to distract the reader? Thanks Plot: Sunmi goes to Reader's apartment after work, but it seems like Reader has something more interesting to do than to give her attention. Words: 1, 859 Genre: fluff Notes: i loved writing this one!!!! have a nice read! ♡♡
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You were so focused that you didn't notice the sound of the key in the door, the door opening or even the sound of high heels echoing in the living room and stopping, being replaced by ladybugs slippers extremely comfortable for those white and tired feet, who walked slowly to the room you were in.
Nor could you hear these sounds with a headset at a high volume, with shots of different types of assault rifles and hand grenades exploding.
You also didn't notice the smell of the sweet perfume that took over the room, a smell that you used to praise every time it got stuck in your nose. Almost all of your senses were too focused on what was going on in those three huge screens in the computer desk positioned on the wall opposite to the entrance to that room.
On the screen, you had some goals: to kill members of the opposing team, to keep yourself and your teammates alive and, above all, to arm and activate a bomb in the enemy's defense field. It was not as difficult as it seemed, the hardest was to find a good team - which you, luckily, had already found - and set up a strategy.
Sometimes, these games were not just fun for you, they were a healthy competition and a challenge for your brain.
"On your right, gashinassassin!", you heard the high-pitched voice of your teammate, thej0k3r (or, as you called her since middle school, Sieun), alert you.
Your fingers worked nimbly on the keyboard and mouse, pressing the right keys and buttons to aim and fire at the right time, moving your avatar to the left side in order to hide behind the wall to get out of the opponent's sights. A colorful game with such realistic graphics on screens that size made you feel part of it, as if you were really there.
You felt your headset being pulled from your left ear and, before you could turn around, soft lips landed where the headset had been.
"Hmmm... I just arrived the apartment and this so-called gashinassassin didn't even give me a kiss...”, a sly voice found the tunnel to your eardrums and went straight to your stomach, waking up the butterflies that lived there.
It was her.
You grinned largely at the beautiful woman next to you.
"Hey, bab-"
Your voice was interrupted by the loud gunshot in your right ear and an effect you haven't heard in a while. Headshot. You looked back at the giant screen and blurted out a curse. A shot right in the middle of your avatar’s head!
"Now that you've died in the game, I deserve a decent ‘welcome, love’. Don't you think?", suggested Sunmi, still in the same clothes she wore before leaving your apartment early in the morning for an appointment.
You held up a finger as if asking her to wait a minute and adjusted the headset while listening to your team putting together another strategy. Now, your avatar was at the “starting base”. 15 seconds to "resurrect" and return with all energy in the game.
"Guys, I'll be right back, my girlfriend has arrived.", you said it pretty fast and, before you could hear any mockery from your friends, removed the headset and dropped it next to the mouse.
"Come here.", you called Sunmi, pulling her by the hand.
Sunmi sat on your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck, a tight hug. You sought her lips with yours and she let you smudge her lipstick. It didn't matter now that her makeup was all ruined, as long as you showed how much you missed her.
Ending this long kiss with short kisses, you smiled as you noticed Sunmi's completely smudged lipstick.
"You look like the Joker."
"I hope you're referring to the real Joker and not Sieun.", Sunmi raised an eyebrow and got up from your lap.
"Ewwww! No! Not at all!", you purposefully shook your body from head to toe and made a face of complete disgust.
Sunmi laughed as she ran her fingers through her hair, pinning it up in a bun at the top of her head.
"I'm going to take a shower. When I get back, forget about this game. I’m bored and wanna spend some time with my love.", she didn't wait for an answer and went straight to the bathroom in the suite.
"This is the last one-" you said, your answer being the bathroom door slamming shut.
Ever since she left the bathroom, Sunmi realized that your focus on the game was intense. She was wearing one of her baggy t-shirts and plaid pants, her hair still tied up. After so many hours dedicated to a program and participating in a competition game with other idols, Sunmi just wanted to spend time with you, watching a movie lying on top of you, kissing you now and then and enjoying that comfortable silence that only the two of you had.
Wanting to draw your attention to her, Sunmi grabbed your shoulders and started a massage. She kissed the top of your head, just above the curve of the headset.
"Farther to the right," you said, without taking your eyes off the screen.
"On the right shoulder?", she asked, placing both hands on your right shoulder.
"There."
She smiled, continuing the massage.
"NOW DOWN, DOWN, DOWN!!", you shouted, Sunmi almost fell backwards, startled.
"Idiot, were you talking to the people in the game???"
You took off your headset and turned slightly to the side, facing a Sunmi with her right hand resting on her chest, breathing fast.
"Sorry, it's very difficult around here...”, you pointed to the screen. “Did I scare you?"
Just Sunmi's angry look was enough of an answer.
"Sorry, baby, I'm going to finish here and I'll give you attention. It's gonna be really quick, okay?", you said, pouting.
Sunmi crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
"I'm going to make a sandwich.", and she left the room, without looking back or asking you if you wanted some.
After ten minutes, she returned to the room with a plate of that big sandwich and also a soda can. She placed the sandwich plate next to your mouse and opened the can next to your ear, so the noise would be loud for you.
She was standing, leaning her elbow on your chair, staring at the screen just like you. She picked up the sandwich, took a bite and there was mayonnaise on her lower lip.
"There, there, look!", she pointed at the screen at a soldier with an AK47 in hand. "Shoot!"
"No, no, this is Yeri, she is from my squad.", you smiled.
"Hmm..."
"No, I was talking to Sunmi.", your expression changed to full concentration.
Feeling ignored, Sunmi sat on the bed and turned on the television. On purpose, she left the volume almost to the maximum on a sitcom on Prime Video.
Feeling uncomfortable with the sound, you looked quickly at the screen and then at Sunmi. She pretended that she didn't notice your discomfort. Nothing would change until you turned your attention to her, that's how she thought.
A few more minutes passed and Sunmi started to laugh. It wasn't a natural laugh, you could see. It was a forced laugh, an outrageous laugh, which made you look back again for eye contact with Sunmi. Once again she pretended not to notice.
"Just a little while longer and the game will be over and then finally I will be able to give all my attention to her.", you thought.
The notes of a song you knew very well started to echo out of the headset and you tried to hide a smile. Sunmi was looking like a child in need of attention. Oh, how well you knew her! You would join that game with her. But, in the end, none of you would lose.
You turned off the microphone and chatted to your friends, saying you would need to quit the game. They did not object. However, doing it quickly for her not to see, you played a gameplay on youtube and pretended it was you playing it.
When a specific part of the song arrived, Sunmi sang at the top of her lungs:
"When will hug me and kiss me?"
You held back a laugh and simulated a cough. She danced to her own music on the bed, in a sloppy and completely beautiful way.
"Isn't it a little too narcissistic to listen to your own music?", you asked, swiveling your chair in a movement that would make you face Sunmi.
"Isn't it a little too bad to keep your girlfriend waiting?", she threw herself on her back on the bed and one of the pillows fell to the floor.
You got up and picked it up, put it back on the bed and threw yourself next to your girlfriend. She was angry, you knew that.
But you also knew how to put an end to that angriness.
"Go back to your game. I don't want you anymore.", with her cell phone in hands, Sunmi was looking for another song.
"Oh, so you don’t want me anymore?!", you feigned disbelief. "This is cruel!"
You approached your body to hers and she did nothing. But she also didn't try to move away. And she was starting to pout. How could she be so adorable?
"Cruel is to keep your girlfriend waiting.", Sunmi pressed the play angrily and Gashina started playing.
"Look! There is a very good player who uses the name of this great song as user in games..."
"I don't care.", she shrugged.
You chuckled and hid your face on her neck, stretched out your left arm and held Sunmi in a half hug. You kissed her shoulder.
"Forgive me... I'm here! I promise I won't play again now, I'll do whatever you want and I'll give you all the attention in the world."
Sunmi rolled her eyes.
"Funny... your game is still on the screen."
"It's just gameplay... a trap to see how far you would go.", you confessed.
"You are veeery funny.", Sunmi said, without a hint of truth. "You said you're going to give me all the attention in the world and do what I want. Is that true?", she asked, still pouting.
"Super duper ultra true.", you raised your pinky to her.
"Okay then.", she joined her pinky with yours and then you kissed her, pressing her against you.
After a while on that kiss, Sunmi separated your lips.
"How long has that gameplay been running?"
"A few minutes, why?", you slid your lips over hers.
"All this time you could be just giving me attention?!", she was indignant. “I was about to play the bass!”
"Oh, baby, come here.", you pulled her, laughing.
She would not need to ask for your attention. Never. Your eyes would always be focused on her.
Another kiss started and you both smiled. Healthy love games always ended with Sunmi’s lips’ taste and sincere, beautiful smiles. And the two of you ended up winning. There was no better game.
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miserablesme · 3 years
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The Les Miserables Changelog Part 8: 1997 Broadway 10th Anniversary
Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. After a few consecutive editions focused on regional choices, we're finally back to official libretto distinctions. Specifically, this edition covers a substantial rewrite that occured in 1997.
To fully understand the circumstances in which this rewrite took place, it is useful to look at some background information. The original Broadway production of Les Miserables was definitely not its most popular production from an audience perspective. The cast tended to be judged as inferior to touring and international productions. Moreover, cast members often stayed in Broadway productions for very long time periods, leading many to question the show's freshness.
Consequently, there was a large-scale firing to the point that, in January 1997, every principal cast member was let go except for Christopher Innvar (Javert). For the next month and a half, the third national tour cast would perform on Broadway.
March 12, 1997 marked exactly ten years since the original Broadway production opened. To mark this occasion (and perhaps to direct attention away from the questionable ethics of essentially firing an entire workforce on short notice), a new cast would officially take over from the third national tour cast on this day. Not only this, but the show which this new cast would perform was freshened significantly (an update that would also be applied to all existing and new replica productions worldwide soon afterwards). The blocking was adjusted to give off more energy, the lighting was digitized and made more complex, the sound effects were made more realistic, the sets and costumes were refurbished and in some cases changed... and the libretto received many edits. Let's get into what actually was changed...
Oh, and as a side note, not all of the changes were made simultaneously. Most were, but a few small edits (mostly musical cuts) were made later in 1997. I suspect that, in acknowledgement of Cameron Mackintosh's reservations prior to the original London productions as well as a warning of what would come in a few years' time, those cuts may have been made in order to reduce overtime costs to crew members. That is only a theory of mine, however; please take it with a grain of salt.
Anyway, let's get our analysis started!
1997 Update #1
The first libretto change (in a sense) occurs during "Lovely Ladies". Granted, this is a change that had already been applied unofficially in the Broadway and West End productions; however, I'm not sure if it was ever used in the US Tour previously. Originally this was the lyrical sequence:
(SAILORS - simultaneously with prostitutes’ lines)
Lovely lady, fastest on the street
Wasn’t there three minutes
She was back up on her feet
Lovely lady, what you waiting for
Doesn’t take a lot of savvy just to be a whore
Come on lady, what’s a lady for?
(PROSTITUTES - simultaneously with sailors’ lines)
Lovely ladies, lovely little girls
Lovely ladies, lovely little ladies
Lovely girlies, lovely little girls
We are lovely, lovely girls
Lovely ladies, what’s a lady for?
The sequence was finally officially replaced with the following exchange (that was more or less invented for the 1992 UK tour):
(PROSTITUTE)
God I’m weary, sick enough to drop
Belly burns like fire
Will the bleeding ever stop?
(PIMP)
Cheer up dearie, show a happy face
Plenty more like you, dear
If you can’t keep up the pace
(PROSTITUTE)
Only joking, dearie knows her place
Interestingly, this officially version uses "Will the bleeding ever stop" as the West End and Broadway production previously did (as opposed to the 1992 "Will the bleeding never stop"); however, it also uses "you, dear" from the 1992 edit, as opposed to "you here" as had been used in the West End and Broadway productions. However, many individuals continued to sing "you here" for many years to come.
In "Fantine's Arrest", Bamatabois originally declares:
You've got some nerve, you little whore
You've got some gall!
The 1992 UK tour introduced the following variation, which had also been used in the West End production prior to this edit:
You've got some sauce, you ugly slut
You've got some gall!
The 1997 libretto combined these two versions into the following line:
You've got some nerve, you ugly slut
You've got some gall!
However, the original "Little whore" was maintained in the libretto as an alternate lyric. I do like how "little whore" actually rhymes with the preceding line ("I won't pay more"), though "ugly slut" does carry more threat. The West End production went with "ugly slut" after this libretto change, while other productions stuck to "little whore" for the time being.
Note that the rest of "Fantine's Arrest" plays out the same as it had since 1986, and did not include any of the other 1992 UK tour variations.
Right off the bat, "The Runaway Cart" is different in this version. The scene now begins with a sound effect of a horse's neigh, a nice little touch that brings one far more in the moment than one might otherwise be (particularly since modern audiences likely wouldn't immediately envision a horse when hearing about a crash). Moreover, the original yell of "Look out! It's a runaway cart!" has been eliminated in favor of more improvised remarks.
The townspeople's remarks mostly are consistent with the 1992 UK tour edit, with one exception. This is how the UK tour lyrics (which were also used in the West End production) went:
Look at that
Stay away
You’ll be crushed by the cart
Don’t approach
Don’t go near
It’ll fall on you too
Oh my god, who is that?
It’s Monsieur Fauchelevent
He is caught by the wheel
Oh the pitiful man
There is nothing to do
The version used on Broadway and in the US tour in the mid-90s was as follows:
Look at that
Stay away
You’ll be crushed by the cart
Don’t approach
Don’t go near
At the risk of your life
Oh my god, who is that?
It’s Monsieur Fauchelevent
He is caught by the wheel
Oh the pitiful man
There is nothing to do
The 1997 libretto cemented the scene as follows:
Look at that
Stay away
You’ll be crushed by the cart
Don’t approach
Don’t go near
It’s that load, it'll fall
Oh my god, who is that?
It’s Monsieur Fauchelevent
He is caught by the wheel
Oh the pitiful man
There is nothing to do
I really like how much clearer in meaning the changed line is, although a part of me still has a soft spot for the rhyme scheme of the UK tour.
The crowd's response to Valjean's plea for help has been changed. Since 1987, this is how it went:
Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor
The load is as heavy as hell
The old man is a goner for sure
It will kill you as well
The 1997 libretto edited the penultimate line:
Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor
The load is as heavy as hell
If you touch it the whole thing will fall
It will kill you as well
I suppose the revised lyric makes it clearer what exactly the danger is. On the flip side, though, the line "It will kill you as well" feels a bit less natural. Originally it meant "it will kill you as well as the other man who will be killed"; a fairly natural progression. Now, though, it essentially means "it will kill you as well as falling". This does make sense, but it doesn't really sound like a phrasing any real person would actually use.
The rest of the cart crash scene plays out as it did in the original version (not the UK tour version).
"Who Am I?" starts out differently right off the bat. These are the original opening lyrics:
He thinks that man is me
He knew him at a glance
The 1997 libretto uses these lyrics instead:
He thought that man was me
Without a second glance
The revised lyrics make ever-so-slightly more sense, since "knew him at a glance" implies a degree of correctness that obviously is false in this context. Having said that, I do slightly prefer the present tense of the original, since the fact that this false belief is continuous is integral to Valjean's dilemma. The revised lyrics give it a sense of the past that isn't really appropriate to the context.
Soon afterwards, a small lyrical edit makes the implications of the dilemma itself quite a bit different. Originally, after reflecting on the future employment of his works, Valjean repeated the same lyrics he sung earlier:
If I speak, I am condemned
If I stay silent, I am damned
The 1997 libretto tweaked the remark a bit:
If I speak, they are condemned
If I stay silent, I am damned
Only two short words are changed, yet the substance of his worry is completely different! Originally, Valjean's reservations are based primarily on how he would be viewed if he failed to provide his workers with the employment they need. Now, however, he is much more selfless, and is actually worried directly by their well-being. Much more appropriate given that Valjean is supposed to be such a redeemed man!
The West End production had once given Valjean the "You know where to find me!" line after "Who Am I?" and the Australian tour had given him the line "You will find me at the hospital St. John!" However, these were not official libretto remarks, and at least since 1987 he officially remained silent after his high note. This changed in the 1997 libretto, in which an optional line based heavily on the Australian tour one follows the number: "You will find me at the hospital!"
For the next five years, American productions generally would generally the line while, ironically given the production history, the West End show would not.
Since 1986 or so, the "Confrontation" number began with a bar of instrumentals, before Javert began his "Valjean, at last..." line. No more; the 1997 libretto has him begin singing acapella. Only during the second syllable of "Valjean" do the instrumentals start.
The next edit can be heard during the preamble to "Master of the House". A few lines are adjusted among the inn customers. Originally this is how the scene went:
Landlord over here
Where's the bloody man?
One more for the road
One more slug of gin
Just one more
Or my old man is gonna do me in!
The 1997 libretto made it as follows:
Where's the wretched man?
Landlord over here
One more for the road
One more slug of gin
Just one more
Or my old man is gonna do me in!
I suppose the change from "bloody" to "wretched" was probably intended to make the show more accessible to non-British audience, since "bloody" does not seem to be a word frequently used in America or other countries. (Weirdly though, Thenardier keeps his "always pissed as newts" line from earlier; one would expect the word to be replaced with "drunk" or something along those lines!)
The change in order of the first two lines in the excerpt I quoted strikes me as odd. The original sequence of lines allows "man" and "gin" to form of a sort of off-rhyme, something lost with the 1997 order of lines. Did the writers decide that the off-rhyme was so awkward that it would sound better if they just didn't try at all? Who knows...
What is probably this libretto's most significant change in the entire musical happens right before the "Waltz of Treachery". While the original Barbican run had a rather extensive Well Scene, since the West End transfer the "Waltz of Treachery" just began with Valjean and Cosette's humming duet to the tune of "Castle on a Cloud". A short but lovely little scene was added between Valjean and Cosette in the 1997 libretto:
(VALJEAN)
Hush now, do not be afraid of me
Don't cry, show me where you live
Tell me my child, what is your name
(INSTRUMENTALS)
(COSETTE)
I'm called Cosette
(VALJEAN)
(*spoken*) Cosette...
The usual humming duet immediately follows. This scene gives some much-appreciated context to the "Waltz of Treachery", and to Valjean and Cosette's relationship as a whole. Honestly it feels a little incomplete to me nowadays when I listen to the audio of pre-1997 performances of the show. Valjean actually meeting Cosette seems like such an important detail to include! John Caird agreed with me evidently. To quote page 143 of 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables:
"If ever there is an amended English version of the show he would like to reinstate the Cosette-Valjean meeting. 'It was beautifully written - one of the most moving scenes in the show,' he says. 'It was taken out for technical reasons, but the well scene was moving and could have stayed.'"
It's heartwarming to see that Caird got his wish. I do wonder what exactly those technical reasons were, and whether or not the revised staging may explain why it could finally be reinstated.
On the flipside, there is a noticeable cut after the "Waltz of Treachery". After Valjean's "There's a castle just waiting for you", the 1987 libretto has about sixteen seconds of instrumentals to the tune of the number, followed by a reprise of Valjean and Cosette's humming duet. This is in turn followed by about eighteen more seconds of instrumentals, which transition into the "Look Down" number.
The 1997 libretto removes the reprise of the humming duet. Now, after "There's a castle just waiting for you", the eighteen latter seconds of instrumentals immediately play, and "Look Down" begins right afterwards. Although this leads to a more energetic change of scenery, I must say that the Thenardier's inn segment of the show feels a bit unresolved without the closing recollection of "Castle on a Cloud".
After Gavroche's opening lyrics to "Look Down", there was originally a musical sequence which played and then was repeated twice before the argument between the beggar woman and the prostitute. However, the 1997 libretto reduced this part so that it is only repeated once.
The same number soon takes a cue from the original pre-Broadway script. After the exchange between the beggar woman and the prostitute, this was the original exchange (which was still being used in the West End production at the time). Each line is a solo, with the latter one being sung by a male and the other three by females:
When's it gonna end?
When're we gonna live?
Something's gotta happen, dearie
Something's gotta give
However, the Broadway production had changed it to an ensemble piece:
When's it gonna end?
When're we gonna live?
Something's gotta happen now or
Something's gotta give
The 1997 libretto brought it back to solo lines, once again with women singing the first three lines and a man singing the last:
When's it gonna end?
When're we gonna live?
Something's gotta happen now
Something's gotta give
I've already noted in the past that I like the scene better as an ensemble piece. Oh well... It also slightly bugs me that the amount of syllables so much less naturally given that the third line loses a syllable. As we'll get into in later editions of this blog, a lot of producers apparently agreed with me, because a lot of productions slightly edited the exchange!
A more subtle difference is audible later in "Look Down". Previously, the line "Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name" was sung by the ensemble along with the rest of the "See our children fed..." segment. However, the 1997 libretto changed it into a solo line sung by a single beggar woman (despite the rest of the segment remaining an ensemble piece).
This edit was made to account for a change in staging. Prior to 1997, Marius and Enjolras stood on the ground, and the beggars began surrounding them while singing the ensemble piece. It made since for the entire thing to be a group effort. However, since 1997, Marius and Enjolras instead stand on the second level of the set, where they sing their lines to the beggars down below. The beggar woman with the "Something for a crust of bread" line walks by them on the set's second level, explaining why she along sings the line now.
As a side note, the 1987 Australian tour had previously made this exact same lyrical change. This makes me wonder if that production made a similar staging change earlier.
In "The Robbery", after Thenardier's "No mistakes, my dears!" there is originally a bar of instrumentals before Mme. Thenardier starts singing. Post-1997, she starts singing immediately after Thenardier finishes singing his line.
A change in the music was made to "The Robbery" alongside a staging change later in the number. Prior to 1997, Thenardier's con job was staged with him standing with a cane and hiding his right leg, making him look like he was missing a leg. This strikes me as an odd holdover from the pre-Broadway lyrics, in which the actual substance of his plea reflects his missing leg. However, the 1997 staging made it so that he is sitting down while turning the crank on a music box. The instrumentals to this part of the musical were simplified and made more synthetic in order to sound as though they were coming from the music box. I am not a fan of this change at all; it's far too self-aware for me to take the scene remotely seriously.
A change to "Red and Black" that was already widely used before this point was solidified into the show. Instead of opening with the first chords of the number, it now officially opens now with the sting that was introduced in the 1992 UK tour and which was later adapted into Broadway, the third national tour, and most international productions. For many years post-1997, it can be heard in every replica production.
To quote myself from part five of this blog:
"If I’m not mistaken, this musical addition was placed in to account for a change in staging. Originally the number began with the barricade set sliding off-stage, revealing the ABC cafe set behind it. However, around the time of this tour the blocking was adjusted. Now, the turntable instead revolved at the beginning of this number, revealing the ABC cafe set on the other end of the turntable and allowing the barricade set to double as the walls of the cafe. I believe the opening sting was added to allow time for this slightly more elaborate staging."
An extremely subtle difference occurs later during "Red and Black". Originally, Enjolras sings:
The color of the world
Is changing day by day
However, since 1997 he instead sings:
The colors of the world
Are changing day by day
This is a tiny change, to the point that it took me probably a few dozen listens of both pre-1997 and post-1997 audios to pick up on the distinction. Small as it may be, though, it's a very welcome edit. Given that the song revolves around more than one color (to the point that both colors are literally in the title), I honestly find it baffling that the lyric was ever written in the singular, let alone that it managed to hold onto that version for over a decade!
"Lamarque is Dead" is edited so that its lyrics are now consistent with the 1992 UK tour ones, as well as West End performances after that tour. Originally the lyrics were as follows:
On his funeral day they will honor his name
It’s a rallying cry that will reach every ear
In the death of Lamarque we will kindle the flame
They will see that the day of salvation is near
The time is here…
However, the 1997 libretto made them into what the West End and UK tour productions were already using:
On his funeral day they will honor his name
With the light of rebellion ablaze in their eyes
From their candles of grief we will kindle our flame
On the tomb of Lamarque shall our barricades rise
The time is here…
I generally prefer the revised lyrics, as I've discussed in earlier editions of this blog.
"The Attack on Rue Plumet" contains a couple of edits. Originally, Thenardier sings to Brujon:
You shut your mouth
Give me your hand
Post-1997, he instead sings:
You shut your mouth
You'll get what's yours
This edit was another that was partially made for the sake of a staging stage. In the original blocking, Thenardier and the gang are trying to climb over Valjean's gate, and Brujon would literally be using his hand to help Thenardier out. However, the 1997 staging changes things so that the gang is trying to pick the lock. This is much less of a group effort for obvious reasons.
Additionally, the new lyric has slightly more threatening undertones, given its implications of either positive or negative outcomes depending on how helpful Brujon actually is.
Later in the number, after Eponine's scream, Thenardier's reaction takes some cues from the original libretto. Pre-Broadway, these were the lyrics (which were still used in the West End at the time):
Make for the sewers, don't wait around
Leave her to me, go underground
You wait my girl, you'll rue this night
I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!
Post-1987, this was the sequence instead:
You wait my girl, you'll rue this night
I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!
Leave her to me, don't wait around
Make for the sewers, go underground
The 1997 edit essentially combined elements of those two versions:
Make for the sewers, go underground
Leave her to me, don't wait around
You wait my girl, you'll rue this night
I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!
So the lines remain in the post-1987 form, but they are ordered in their pre-1987 form. I've already mentioned that I prefer the 1987 ordering of things, though the 1997 version isn't bad either.
Compared to the first act, the second one has much fewer changes. The first one comes not until the "First Attack" sequence. Before 1997, this was the students' response to their first victory:
(LESGLES)
See how they run away
(GRANTAIRE)
By God, we've won the day
The 1997 libretto changed it to the following:
(LESGLES)
See how they turn and run
(GRANTAIRE)
And so the war was won
I admit I prefer the original lyrics to this one. Grantaire's revised lyrics lack the incredulous spirit of the earlier ones, and the almost narrator-esque out-of-the-moment quality to his post-1997 lyrics is grating.
Later, prior to "Drink with Me", Enjolras speech is slightly changed. Originally he declares:
We must be ready for the fight
For the final fight
Let no one sleep tonight
The 1997 libretto makes his words as follows:
We must be ready for the fight
For tomorrow's fight
Let no one sleep tonight
Although "the final fight" has a climactic air that "tomorrow's fight" lacks, I suppose it is more realistic that Enjolras would have no way of knowing whether there will be more to come after the next battle.
Grantaire's lyrics in "Drink with Me" are edited a bit. Since 1987, this was what he sung:
Will the world remember you when you fall?
Can it be your death means nothing at all?
Is your life just one more lie?
The 1997 libretto edited it into the following:
Will the world remember you when you fall?
Can it be your life means nothing at all?
Will your death be one more lie?
Not terrible, but in my opinion the previous lyrics were far more effective. It makes much more sense to me for one's life to be described as a lie than one's death. The original lyric implies that the students' deaths are for nothing, and that their lives are meaningless. I suppose that is still the message of the revised lyrics, but they strike me as a bit obtuse for my taste.
That's it for the edits in this part (unless you count the official addition of the "You raised my child in love" and "I'll lead you to salvation" variation in the epilogue, which had already been used worldwide for a few years anyway).
But this did not mark the end of the chapter of the Les Mis saga. As I've mentioned earlier, a few edits were made in later months of 1997. So let's look at:
1997 Update #2
The first variation that can be heard in this version occurs during "Lovely Ladies". The "God, i'm weary..." sequence is originally sung in exactly the same tune as the rest of "Lovely Ladies". However, this edit changed it into a slightly different variation of the tune. In my opinion this is a definite improvement. As I mentioned in a previous edition of this blog, while thematically the sick prostitute scene is more fitting than the scene it replaced, it can potentially feel awkward when it's the sole part of the song in its tune not to feature the phrase "lovely ladies". Putting it in a different tune makes its out-of-place vibe feel intentional. In a way, its slightly different sound cements the idea that the prostitute is sick and is not functioning in the same way she ordinarily would.
The first of a few cuts occurs before "Eponine's Errand". Originally, it begins with a few seconds of instrumentals before Eponine starts singing. However, starting with this edit, Eponine begins singing acapella. Not until her first verse is finished do any instrumentals come in. I slightly prefer the version with instrumentals, but it still works alright.
The next cut happens during the opening barricade scene to the second act. Originally, Lesgles' "They will do what is right" is followed by a few seconds of instrumentals before Marius sings his "Hey little boy..." line. However, this edit removed those instrumentals, meaning Marius starts right after Lesgles stops singing. Truth be told I've always found that scene boring, so I can't say I object to cutting it down by a few seconds!
The last cut occurs after "Dawn of Anguish" and before Gavroche's death scene. The "Drink with Me" reprise after the former number originally is followed by an instrumental reprise of the chorus of "Castle on a Cloud". This is then followed by the closing notes to "Drink with Me". However, this edit makes it so that the reprise ends quickly, going right to the ending notes of "Drink with Me" without any "Castle on a Cloud" chords. I definitely prefer the original; it feels so much more emotional and reflective. I've been told it also holds some context to the original book of Les Miserables, though I don't know much more given that I have not yet read the book.
That just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.
As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me!
Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…
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nachohypno · 3 years
Text
Pine’s Football Jocks (Rewritten!) - Ch. 4
The delivery guy finished with the boxes, leaving them next to the lobby’s counter. It was okay, I could take it from there. Got a few muscular guys and they could put those muscles to display.
“You really can take it from here? You look small to move all those boxes” The guy that asked me to sign for the delivery asked. It was nice of him.
“Yeah, no. I’m going to have the guys move them to the storage room, and I thought that could serve as motivation for the non-staff people, to be like ‘Woah, I’d like to be strong like that one day’.” I explained, nodding towards coach Mark spotting a twink-ish guy while he bench pressed.
“Uh, whatever you prefer. All the papers are in order, so… Have a nice day, bud.” The delivery guy counted the ten boxes one last time, before writing some stuff on his clipboard and leaving the sports club.
Now, to get all these boxes inside…
“Mark! Peter! A little help, please?” I shouted, trying to catch their attention over the loud music. And after they finished helping their respective trainees, the coaches ran over to my side.
“Yeah, boss? Need help with these boxes?” Mark asked, pointing at the boxes beside me.
Mark and Peter, the football coaches from my old high school and my current university, respectively. Of course, they have been brainwashed after I met them, and I put them to work under my management as personal trainers during their free times, which is… the only time I can open this place.
“Yeah. Just move it to the storage room and I’ll check them there. They’re supposed to be the new uniforms and the club’s merch, so better check they are exactly as I’ve ordered them.”
I was particularly excited about this. I only ordered one delivery of a couple boxes full of different sized unisex shirts, and I plan on leaving them behind the counter and having the coaches wear them as their new uniform.
Once again, I’m using them as a display. I’ve been researching for a while with my frat friend Aiden, who told me I should make the trainers wear them and that would make the clients want them, somehow. “It’s dumb, but it works. And I expect a percentage of the earnings for my advice.” were his exact words.
“Hey, Mikey!” I called my best friend, who was running on a treadmill a few meters away. “Can you look around and make sure nobody dies while I’m back there? Should only take a few minutes”
“I’ve got your back, bro!” He answered, giving me a thumb up with his healthy arm before turning the treadmill a few levels down to be able to pay attention to his surroundings without flying off the machine.
Great, that covers it. It’s only for a minute or two, so I tried to not overthink it. Mikey is perfectly capable of helping someone, even with a casted arm. I hope, I don’t want to get sued.
He came to make me some company during one of my trips to this place, and because he wanted to put a workout in. Only lower body stuff, so he wouldn’t hurt his arm, but he seemed to love it still.
I followed the coaches to the storage room, as they left a pair of boxes each and went to look for the rest. I grabbed a cutter from the toolbox we have there and opened the box lid.
Grabbed a random tee from the box and pulled it up. ‘Neat’ I thought, admiring the work. It was a green tee, an XL size. Might be perfect for the coaches.
“Mark, take off your shirt and put this one instead.” I ordered, throwing the shirt at him and examining the box again.
“Yeah, boss” Answered the coach, before starting to undress beside me. I took a quick glimpse, sighed, then went back to work. I grabbed another pair of shirts, one would be for Peter and the other one for Mikey. I guessed he would like the little present.
Mark had already changed, and the shirt looked awesome on his muscular body. Fitted, which was great, because it showed off his big pecs and bodybuilder abs. How can a high school football coach have such a great build? I don’t know, I don’t care. Me and my old classmates just assumed he was a real psychopath when it came to physical stuff.
“Looking great there. How does it feel?” I asked, patting one of Mark’s pecs.
“Somewhat tight, but still really good. Not tight enough to hinder my movement, boss.” He smiled after his answer, like he was proud to help. It was nice, I liked to see my boys being happy, no matter which one it is.
“Good, that’s good.” I mumbled, checking out the guy to examine the shirt. It was green, just like I asked. It had a little grey pine tree drawn on the left pec.
And in the middle, around the chest area, there was the words ‘Lumberjack Sports Club’ written in big letters. It was supposed to be a rebrand on the whole place and… Really cheesy, right? I know, it was the best I could think of. Wanted to make something with my name and… lumberjacks cut wood, like pines… Yeah, it’s really, really cheesy.
The words become a bit more prominent if the wearer has big pecs, like coach Mark has. They stick out a bit more due to the big chest, which is awesome!
I finished checking that everything was as planned, then patted the man’s pecs once more. “Done here, you can go back to work.”
“Sure thing, boss” Is it weird having my high school coach calling me boss? Of course it is, but can’t do anything about that.
Now I just needed to wait for Peter and do the same thing with him. The sooner I introduce the new uniforms, the more exposed they’d be and a week or two later, I would be able to sell them as club merch on the reception desk. Once I set this place as self-manageable, I can drop it finally and go back to being number #1 of the class.
The original plan was just to save this place because it was Mike’s preferred workout place, but now it turned out to be a huge time vacuum.
Coach Peter entered, carrying the last two boxes. “Great, I was just waiting for you…” I said, grabbing another XL tee from the box I opened previously.
-----
I took a few minutes examining the other boxes before going back to the main area. I looked around for Mike, hands behind my back trying to hide one of the new t-shirts I wanted to give him. I noticed he already finished with the treadmill.
After he saw me coming out of the storage, the big guy skipped over to my side. “Hey, what’s with the new shirts? They look awesome!” The jock said, admiring how the new uniform looked on the coaches as they went back to work.
“Just a little idea I had! Nice, right? I think I went a bit over the top with it but it’s supposed to increase earnings and… you know, management stuff.” I didn’t like boring Mike with the details of my little hobby/job. It was fun to do, and reminded me of time management games I used to play as a kid. But of course, in a more serious and realistic way.
“They are! Man, they really look good.” He stated, before finally stopping his admiration for the new shirts. Luckily, because I would start feeling weird if he kept admiring those.
“Weeeeeell…” I extended my hands towards him and offered him the tee. “Got one for you!”
“Really?! Awesome!” He snatched it right away, but I didn’t want him changing in the middle of the gym area. It was supposed to be a little secret for now! Just meant to be shown off by the coaches for a few days before they go on sale. Not going to use my best friend for advertising purposes!
“Heyheyhey, wait a second there. I gotta finish with some stuff upstairs before we can go home. Want to come with me and…” Looking around to see that nobody was near to eavesdrop. “Show off a little?”
I tried to wink, but I’m pretty sure it came off awfully. I don’t know how to wink without making a weird face. Luckily for my self-esteem, Mike didn’t point it out. He just nodded, visibly excited to try his gift on.
No more words spoken, we started jogging upstairs quite fast. My ‘office’ was just this room with a couch on the side, a desk with a computer and two chairs around it. One in the front and one way more comfortable behind it.
I barely do stuff there, honestly. I try to not put much thought into the sports club, otherwise I’ll become as invested as I am with the football team and I’d have even less time to breath. Besides keeping my studies up to date, I like to have my time to play videogames.
Also Mike is a veeeery social guy, so he gets bored quite quickly if he doesn’t do stuff with another human being. Anything, let it be working out, play a game, cooking, sex, anything.
While he’s still in contact with his friends and teammates, I’m the guy who’s around him the most, and thus I have the responsibility to make him feel good and loved. It’s not a hard task because he’s naturally loveable, but still quite time consuming!
As soon as we entered, Mikey closed the door with his foot and pulled me in by the shoulder. There, the big guy leaned in and the usual make out session started.
…Yeah, this was another use for the office. That’s why the couch wasn’t out yet. It was pretty inappropriate for an office but very useful for sexy times like this.
I pulled back, though. We could do sexier stuff at our place, rather than risk anyone walking in the manager’s office for any reason. I wanted to head home already too, so I preferred if we were done with it quickly here.
“Wanted to thank you for the gift, bro. Y’know I love surprises.” he said, pointing to the shirt.
“Huh, you won’t love it until you try it! Strip show! Strip show!” I began to encourage him, as he threw the shirt to the couch and reached down to start pulling his sweaty tee up. He tried to do slow movements, and his cast was on the way,
A few seconds later, the old sweaty shirt was off. I wondered if I should tell him to stop and wait until he showered, but he seemed so excited that I decided to keep myself silent.
Mike grabbed the new uniform tee and carefully slid it in, one arm at a time, then the head, and the big guy was ready! “How do I look?” He asked, striking a superhero pose.
“Amazing, I knew it would fit like a glove!” It really looked great on him, and I guess that’s always a granted when you give fitted tees to fit people. The pecs look great; the abs can be admired through the fabric. It was really like he wasn’t wearing anything.
“Hey, once I get this thing off in a week,” he lifted his casted arm “I’m gonna work out like a beast, then we’ll go back home and I’ll give you the best freakin’ show in your life. Got it, bro?”
He had that handsome cocky smile, and I was glad I made him happy. I’m doing a nice job taking care of him, if I dare say so. He barely minded that his arm was broken and just looked forward to having it off. Focusing on his studies (Not intending to brag, but I kind of helped with that…) served as a nice distraction, so the big guy always has something to do.
“Okay, I’ll take your word on it” I answered, offering him my hand to make it seem like a deal. He chuckled and shook my hand, before pulling me in again for another kiss. I wanted to roll my eyes, but this was really nice. I can’t lie and say that I don’t enjoy it, I enjoy when he gets all cheesy and romantic.
“Y’know what we could do? It’s been a while since you’ve read me the… the story…” I think there are very few things that manage to get me from hard to soft, and sadly this was one of them. I’ve been trying to avoid the story for a few weeks, and Mike didn’t seem to notice or he didn’t bring it up.
Until now, of course.
And you know what? I can’t deny it to him, it’s something that happened years ago, and I’m not really upset by it but it’s… kind of uncomfortable to read? I feel like I was such a brat before.
I sighed. “I’ll read you one chapter, if… you cook dinner tonight and, uh…” I’m really bad at coming up with this stuff. It’s funny because I usually have to come up with orders and stuff like that. “Read another chapter for your class? The boring one, so you get over it fast” I’m devilish sometimes.
“Aww, man… Really?”
“Yup, take it or leave it, big guy” I crossed my arms, trying to seem like serious business.
After a bit, Mikey nodded. He didn’t even put up a fight, darn! I lowkey wanted to use mind control to change his mind. It’s okay though, I shouldn’t really try to influence his choices. Only for fun though, hehehe.
“Welp, we’ve got some time here. There’s a couch too, so…” I grabbed my laptop from my bag, feeling a sort of déjà vu as of now. Even when I tried to avoid reading it, it seems like I have to keep going until the end, or Mike won’t be happy.
I sat down on the mentioned couch, and waited for him to lay down beside me, as he rested his head on my lap. I had to leave the laptop beside me to avoid placing it on his head, but whatever.
Let’s see where I left this off…
 ----
Past Pine’s POV
My day was weird. I still felt a bit hurt by what happened at Mike’s house, but the idea of not having one, but two jocks under my control sort of balanced my mood into a normal state. Not happy, nor sad. I was just a blank sheet of paper waiting for the day ahead to fill me.
And that line is too cheesy, I have to erase it later.
[Huh… I didn’t delete that… I could just… Oh, sorry Mike. Where was I?]
But yeah. I couldn’t take last night’s events out of my mind, and the fact that Mike hadn’t sent me a nightly message may speak for itself. The guy is mad at me now, even though he doesn’t really have a reason to be mad.
Whatever. I thought about messaging Gary this time to have him pick me up and drive me to school, but if I wanted to keep my stuff a secret, then I would have to not be as obvious. I mean, having him not beat me up already on sight is a big improvement, but not being actually able to hang out with him was a pain.
Not like I want to hang out with Garrett, but being able to enjoy my new slaves would be nice. I know I got to play with them yesterday, but there’s still a lot of things to do!
Skimming through my day, nothing interesting happened. Again, I didn’t find Gary until after the first classes were over (Nothing of interest ever happened in my classes, the teachers did a good job on punishing troublemakers… As long as they’re inside the classroom, the corridors are another tale).
I saw him walking down the corridor, and Mike was next to him.
“Like, really, thanks a lot for helpin’ with those loooong words…” Mikey was saying, before they both stopped in front of me. “I dunno why, but that book seems like a biiiig pain in the ass now.”
“Hey, it’s okay. That’s what mates are for, right Mikey?”
“Right, bruh!” Huh, pigs might as well start to fly now because this was unnatural. Mike and Gary are getting along! This, uh… It never happened before.
Let’s see. Mikey is nice and gentle, while Gary is rude and… straight up awful. They never managed to even hit that one point where you text the other person and wish them a happy birthday, because both guys really dislike each other.
Something fishy is going on, definitely.
“Uhm… What’s up?” I asked, looking at one, then the other. I was pretty confused.
“Hey man. Been chatting with Mikey here during Literature class. Dunno what happened after I dropped you there last night, but he’s awesome now!” Gary stated, seeming excited.
“Yuh, been feelin’ pretty light headed since last night, bruh. My brah here helped me with some words I couldn’t understand. Been a hard day, huhuhuh…” Mike’s voice sounded deeper, exactly how they sounded last night after I left.
Fuck.
I did do something to him during our fight. I just didn’t notice. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had to do something.
First, let’s see what I did to him. “Mike, would you mind telling me… the square root of 16?” That was the simplest one I could think of, because it’s the example they taught us when younger.
“Uh… I dunno, I ain’t a calculator bruh. But hey, we good now, right? You talkin’ to me like we good and that’s awesome! Bro hug!”
“No, wait, there’s no time for-“ I got pulled in for a bro hug anyway. Mike is a tight hugger, and this gave me time to think. I guess I can leave it like this for a while, right?
He certainly seems happier, and it could work as a sort of punishment for outing me. Not really enslaving him, because I have no interest in doing that to my best friend, but still doing something with him.
That makes sense, right?
Mike slowly let go of me, and I patted his shoulder. There was a big smile on his face as he looked down at me. That sealed the deal, he was staying like this at least for a few days.
“Yeah. We good, big guy” I told him, returning the nice smile he was giving me.
…And then he pulled me in for another bro hug.
“Okay, that’s enough” I said, once he let go of me again. Fighting back against him was useless, have you seen this guy? He’s way bigger than me! Rivaling Gary in terms of bigness!
“Sorry, got a lil’ bit excited there. So happy to be bruhs again, bruh!” Mike took a step forward, probably to hug me again, but I did a weird wanna-be karate move and he remained still. Gary laughed at our goofiness.
“So, that was heartwarming!” The guy stated. “C’mon big guy, we should head to practice before coach Mark starts to yell.”
“Oww… I don’t like coach Mark. He mean to me, huhuhuh.” Mike said, still in a deep voice. It was weird, seeing him like this. He’s not the brightest bulb on the box, but he isn’t a dumb jock either. He can be pretty smart if the subject interests him, like with biology and… P.E!
Wait… Coach Mark…
Okay, let’s say that I began to like this thing of controlling jocks with my mind control powers. (Except for Mikey, of course. That was an accident and he’s not going to be enslaved). But, if I were to enslave all of them, one by one…
It’s going to take an eternity, fuck.
But, as the big jocks next to me were chatting about going to practice and how mean the coach is, I thought I could maybe… target him this time? I mean, he is a very mean guy, and he also seems to not care that his football team has been bullying a senior student for a month or so. He definitely should be corrected in his ways…
“Hey, do you guys mind if I follow you to the practice?” The chatter stopped.
“Wut?” Mikey was legit confused. He was dumb, but he still recognized that I just had an awful idea, if I didn’t have any powers with me.
“Why’d you wanna do that?” Gary asked too. He seemed a bit less confused than Mike, but still clearly curious.
“Y’know what I mean by having a word with him, right?” And then, it clicked. Gary let out a ‘Ooooh…’ that made my dumbified best friend even more confused. “I figured that, instead of keeping going for the team’s jocks, I could take down the leader of the group?”
“I dunno what you two got in your hands, but lemme know if you need my help, a’ight? Gonna head to the field already…” Mike stated, but didn’t wait for an answer before leaving. I guess he got bored from not being paid attention? I don’t know, I’m not inside his head.
“Pine, bro, while this sounds great, are you really sure you can do that? I worry about you, bruh” Aww, Gary was a softie! But sadly, I had made up my mind already. I’m going to enslave that coach.
Gary and I walked together towards the football field. We talked about how the plan could go as we walked. I wouldn’t be able to enter the football field zone because that would raise suspicion, but I didn’t care much about that at the moment. 
“Well, I need to think about all of this… Go to practice in the meantime, I’ll let you know at the end what my plan is, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll do my best to help you,” Gary leaned in and whispered to my ear “My master…” Then he jumped back and jogged down to the locker room.
I remained inside the school, making time while helping around the people with indoors extracurricular activities. It gave me something to do, and I could also think about the plan with barely any interruptions other than myself asking around in the classrooms if they needed an extra hand for anything.
Not going to lie, I was really tempted to go to the football field, climb on the bleachers and stare at all the jocks training. But it would be best if I stuck to the ‘not get voluntarily near any of the jocks’ for now, because I don’t really know if my powers work on masses of people. Like, so far it worked on two people, Gary and Brent.
I have a theory that people’s will power plays a part on whether they obey or not, and so far both Gary, Mike and Brent did as I said without any complaint. Getting the coach would also let me test if age has anything to do with my powers’ efficiency.
[Hmm… Nothing much happens during these bits… I’ll fast-forward a bit]
------
An hour or so later, football practice was probably over. It kind of depends, it usually only lasts until 5 pm but it can get extended until 6 pm and I hope it didn’t get extended because I’m bored.
I headed to the school yard. The sky was gray, maybe there would rain tonight. Nice, I like rain. I sped up my pace towards the football grounds though, didn’t want to miss the end of the practice.
My plan so far was telling Gary to get the coach’s attention and ask him for a short reunion. I could maybe lie saying that I’m in the school’s newspaper to justify my presence in that reunion. I don’t know, I’ll figure it out once I’m there.
The football ground was just a large chunk of land, decorated with lines to mark the different spots, yards or whatever. Sorry if I don’t seem interested, but I’ve never managed to understand football. On the sides of the field, there were a good chunk of bleachers for when we host a game and the principal invites the whole school, passing it off as a ‘grand event’ when it’s just another high school football game.
‘Suppose it’s got something to do with school spirit, but I’m not feeling any school spirit when I’m being shoved in a locker, thank you very much.
Enough with the bitterness though, got a plan to carry out!
The team players were sitting on the grass, and they looked really sweaty. Some were panting to catch their breaths; others were drinking water. The only thing in common was that they all were staring at the coach as the man spoke.
The coach was just as Gary described him earlier. A very large man with a face of few friends that scared everyone.
“YES, COACH!” The jocks shouted suddenly, breaking my train of thought. I assumed they were having a motivational speech of sorts. Or a cult reunion. You never know!
“LOUDER!” The man in front of the group shouted back, it gave me goosebumps. I don’t like yelling.
“YES, COACH!!” The jocks repeated, then the coach laughed and started speaking in a lower tone again, so I couldn’t hear anything. I was beside the bleachers, so I had no idea if they could see me or not. I didn’t really mind if they saw me, but I didn’t want to interrupt… whatever that was.
Cult meeting or football practice aside, the group started to walk lazily towards the locker room, probably to have a shower before they all returned home.
I noticed Gary split from the team and was walking towards my direction. I leaned back against the bleachers so the rest of the team couldn’t see me. Not that it would really matter, I think, but maybe being a bit careful wouldn’t hurt?
“Saw you spying. What’s up, bro?” Gary asked once he reached me. He was wearing a football jersey on top of the armor. The armor made his already wide shoulders look even bigger, which was certainly impressive.
I stood there for a moment, admiring the look of the guy in front of me. “Woah…” I mumbled, before shaking my head. “Uh… sorry. I wasn’t sure if practice had finished already so I thought I would come over and… take a look. Yeah. That’s it.”
“You’re so lucky the coach didn’t see you, otherwise he would have yelled at you big time.
“I mean; I could also tell him to shut up. It would sell me out, but it would also feel really good” That man. Yells. A LOT.
“Got a point there. Eh, I gotta go back in and take a shower. I’m really smelly, otherwise I’d give ya a bro hug. You… seemed to enjoy the one Mikey gave you this morning” I almost cracked a laugh in front of him. Never thought Gary would get so observant. So glad he’s enslaved to do as I say, otherwise he would have beaten me up by now.
“Yeah… Yeah, you’re pretty smelly. I’ll wait for you here, still planning to get the coach today.” I said, as he took a few steps back.
“Oh yeah, about that. I came up with an idea to help you out. I’ll wait outside the locker room once I’m done and call you when everyone else finishes, ‘kay? Shouldn’t take longer than 15 minutes, and the coach usually stays in to check some stuff in his office.” It sounded like a nice plan, better than mine I guess. Because there was barely a plan on my end.
Go in, enslave, go out. That’s what I managed to think of all day. I don’t really know the coach other than he’s a dick, and I’d like to change that once I get my grip on him, but if I don’t get him first then the later part would be pretty useless.
“Sure, okay. See you in a while, I think.” Never thought I’d be planning how to enslave a coach with Garrett Basch. But hey, I should get used to this, right? I mean, if I plan on keep doing it after a while, that is…
Yeah, I probably will. I don’t know, I have a feeling I can become really good at this with enough practice!
Gary smiled and ran off. I noticed some players walking towards where I was, which made sense since this is the field’s direct exit. I hid under the bleachers next to me and hoped to not be seen. The guys passed by, luckily not noticing me… standing there like some kind of creep.
Well, I just needed to wait now. And hide, just in case someone else decided to leave.
-----
It seemed like forever, but after around 15 minutes of waiting, I received a text from Gary.
<Garrett B. : Coast’s clear. Coach’s inside, c’mon!>
Finally! I left my little hideout and was about to make a run towards the locker room’s exit of the field, but instead bumped into someone. Way to go on the ‘stay hidden’ part, huh?
“Oh, hey. Sorry, bruh. Didn’t see you… Uh… Where did you come from?” Mikey said, taking a step forward to see if I was alright, and I could tell he didn’t take a shower and just changed into normal clothes. The after-practice odor wasn’t so strong, but it was still noticeable.
I looked at the big guy and tried to shrug the bump off. “Uhm… Just came from school, thought about having a word with the coach before heading home.” I explained. It wouldn’t hurt to update him with my latest plans, right? I mean, I don’t think he could do something bad to me while he’s a dumb jock.
“Ooooh, you don’t wanna do that, brah. Coach is reaaaaaally pissed today, he’s been taking it out on us all evening. I was really thinking about ditchin’ practice and go home, but that’d probably have been worse than hearin’ him yell and stuff, huhuhuh.” That deep laugh was a bit unsettling.
I nodded. “Thanks for the heads up, I’ll be careful. You’re heading home, right?”
“Yuh-uh”
“Good. Take a shower when you get there, okay?” I don’t know if he planned to not shower at all, but he kind of messed his normal clothes by not showering before changing back to them, so I thought I could slip that one little help for him.
“Got’cha, bruh” I didn’t notice him going all blank and glassy eyed, but I think it worked fine. “Gonna head back now, see ya bruh.” He was about to step in for another bro hug, but I lifted my hands and he ended up bro-slapping them. Nicer than smelling my friend after a practice? Always.
“Oh, wait!” I heard Mikey and stopped in my tracks. Turned around and noticed him smiling at me “Nice glasses you have. Make you look smarter, bruh.”
“Uh… Thanks? They’re the same ones I’ve been wearing for months” Luckily, my glasses never got broken on Garrett’s jock rampage against me. Which is nice, because my prescription is still working fine and glasses aren’t cheap.
“Yeah, but I noticed that if you compliment people, they feel better and I like making people feel better. Discovered this after I com-pli-men-ted-” He counted the syllables with his hand, which was cute. “-this cheerleader earlier today and she seemed really happy afterwards. So yeah, looking great today, bruh! But, uh… No homo, you get what I mean, huhuhuh.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well… Thanks Mikey, you look great too. No homo! Heheh.” I figured I had to add that in at the end too, otherwise he might think I was hitting on him. The big guy gave me a big dumb smile, before nodding and walking away.
After that weird event, I went back to making a run towards the locker rooms. I noticed Gary waiting there, with a kind of annoyed look.
“What took so long?” He asked once I arrived. He seemed more nervous than anything, which was understandable. The coach isn’t really a nice man, but he’s really good at his job. Otherwise I guess he wouldn’t be around?
“Bumped into Mike, and he wanted to chat for a bit. Nothing serious, I’m here now!”
“It’s… okay. You’re the leader here, so I can’t get mad at you. Can’t get mad at you even if I wanted, bro!” He said with a sincere smile. It felt weird, but I shrugged it off. “C’mon, let’s talk to the coach.”
As we were about to go in, the door opened and coach Mark was staring at us, apparently in confusion. Did we catch him on his way out? Oh, fuck.
Coach Mark. A man around his thirties, very muscular too (His body size reminded me of Gary, actually! But older and bigger/taller). He was wearing a fitted tee that looked quite professional while also being ‘made for show-off’-ish, some dark gray leggings and running shoes.
He had sunglasses on, which was weird because it was almost night time already, and a little golden chainlink necklace that ended up hid under the t-shirt. I felt like if I kept examining him, I would die, for some reason.
The man had an expression of not liking… I don’t know, the entire planet. But I’ve heard rumors about him laughing sometimes, whenever he takes a person to detention.
“Heeeey, coach…” Gary said, sounding quite nervous. If he was nervous, I was about to pass out then.
“Yo, Garrett…” Then he looked at me “And… uh… Mr… Cartas?” How rude! Uh, I think. I guess he’s not really forced to learn the student’s names and so. I need to try and go a bit easier on people, I guess.
“Carter, sir… My name is Pine Carter…” I corrected him, but tried to sound respectful.
“Yeah, that. What are… you two doing here? Practice’s over, I’m heading home now” The coach stated, sounding surprisingly calm. Maybe he doesn’t need to sound all baddy and mean if his jocks aren’t around?
“Wait, coach. I really need to talk with you, in private. With my buddy here.” The coach seemed to flinch a bit when Gary called me ‘buddy’, but almost instantly regained composure.
“Sure. Head to my office tomorrow during your free time, and we’ll chat there. Going back home now” The coach put a bit more force on that last sentence, like he really wanted us to leave and stop bothering.
I think this would be a nice time to step in!
“Uh, coach. You’re going to let us in and have a reunion with us. You really want to have this thing now” I stated, trying to sound quite commanding.
Mark’s eyes glazed over for a second, but quickly turned back to normal again. He turned around without saying a word and let us in the locker room. “Come on in, let’s go to my office to talk more comfortably.” He said after starting to walk in.
Gary smiled at me, before letting me go in first and follow me closely behind. The office was just across the locker room, so it was just a few steps away. The coach unlocked the door with his key and let us go in first. The plan was working out! I’m so excited!
The office had a brown desk in the middle, with a computer on top of it and a plaque that read ‘Coach Mark’. In front of it, there were three plastic chairs that seemed pretty uncomfortable. Around the walls were shelves with pictures of teams (Probably the school’s football team across the years? I couldn’t tell).
A pennant with the school’s colors (Red and yellow) was right behind the leather desk chair that was for the coach. I was tempted to command him to exchange chairs with me or something, but decided to not be an asshole. It was enough that I was going to make him obedient to me already.
I sat on one of the chairs in front of the desk, and Gary followed suit. The jock smiled at me, and shook my shoulder a bit. “Hey, you’ll do great” He mouthed (I think), as the coach closed the door and walked around the desk to sit on his chair.
The older man was mumbling a sort of happy tune, which would have made me laugh if I weren’t completely terrified.
“So…” The coach grabbed a few papers on top of his desk, set them aside, and stared at Gary. “What brings you two here?”
Since he was looking at Garrett, I didn’t feel like I actually had any permission to speak on this matter. I assumed this had just turned into a ‘team effort’ kind of thing, and decided to let my jock partner play his card and I would continue afterwards.
“Well, sir…” Gary seemed nervous too, but was handling it way better than me. “It would be nice if you apologized to my friend-o here… I know this may come off as out of nowhere but…” then he looked at me. “Pine, I’m sorry for what I’ve done this last month. I’m truly, very sorry.”
My brain was about to split in half, not because of the surprise but because I didn’t know how to react. For one side, there was a little voice that was like ‘fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck you!’ and in the other side, another voice that went like ‘So cuteeeeee!’.
Since I couldn’t really pick a side, I just nodded. “Yeah, thanks. But why does the coach owe me an apology?” The coach in front of us raised an eyebrow, probably as confused as I was? “…You didn’t tell me why we were coming here in the first place, huh.”
“I’m preeetty sure good old Garrett was just pulling a prank on both of us, kiddo-“ The coach started, but was quickly interrupted by Garrett.
“The coach told me, and the team, that he knew our practices were going to get harder lately. And if we needed to steam off a little, we wouldn’t get in trouble for messing with people in the corridors and stuff… Y’know what I mean.”
I remained silent, and heard very calmly Garrett’s explanation as the coach seemed to have lost faith in this conversation. “And to avoid drawing a lot of attention, the best way would be to focus on one person. This happened around when someone spilled the beans about you being… y’know, gay and all…”
So… if I got everything right… It all started as a sort of chain of events that got intertwined with my outing, and the coach being a REAL asshole. Huh, if you think about it, it doesn’t make any sense.
The coach did a Jim face, looking straight ahead, probably realizing he fucked up big time. I could report him, of course, and I may as well do. But hey, at least I won’t feel bad for doing this.
“Well… In view of this new information, coach, I do now believe that you owe me an apology.” I said, maintaining the composure, and doing my best to not yell ‘and now you’ll be naked! And you’ll be naked!’.
The man moved his hands weirdly, and chuckled. “Sure, why not? I’m sorry. My guys needed a way to rest, and I provided it to them. It may have not been the best one, but it worked fine, right?”
“No, that was not a good apology” Now, this was getting tiring! “Apologize sincerely, okay?” It was weird, but this time I could feel how my words came off as more ‘strict’ than before.
And I did notice the coach’s face going blank, as he started droning “I’m sorry for sending my players out to get someone and that you ended up being that someone.”
“Hmm… No, that doesn’t do the trick” I said, while Gary observed the whole scene playing out. “Repeat after me: ‘What I did was very wrong, unforgivable even, and I deserve a punishment’.”
“What I did was very wrong, unforgivable even, and I deserve a punishment” Coach Mark repeated, his face still blank.
“Coach, as punishment for what you’ve done…” Uh, I feel like I’m sounding like a weird movie’s villain. But it’s impossible to make an enslavement thing good! It’s just weird, I dunno. “You are going to do everything I tell you, with no second thoughts. You want to become a good obedient slave for me, your master. Isn’t that right?”
No answer came out. Was he resisting? I’ve never seen anyone do that so far! Ooooh, this is so excitingggg! Wait, no, I’m mad at him. Fuck, it’s difficult to be mad when you’re taking control of the person you’re mad at.
“You really want to become my happy obedient slave, just like Gary is, don’t you coach?” I tried to smooth his path with some chatter. Garrett smiled at me, nodding like a happy puppy. I smiled back at him, before returning to the blank coach.
“Yeah… I-I want t-to…” Another weird thing was seeing this big muscular man stutter after I said a few words. Makes you think about how this mind control stuff affects people, right? “obedient… slave…?” The man finished, pretty confused as he stared at Garrett beside me.
“Yeah. He’s a really good jockboy,” Now, that was weird. I reached out to Gary and ruffled his hair a bit. He didn’t stop smiling, like he was happy to be there with me as he watched the whole scene play out. “And you reeaally want to be a good obedient jockboy too, don’t you?”
This felt pretty great! I mean, I know I sound like some weird villain guy, but payback does apparently feel really good!
“Y-yeaah… W-Want t-to be… a… g-gooood…” Okay, this was getting slow. If I have to wait for this guy to finish each sentence when I tell him something, I’ll graduate already.
Let’s see… Something to stop him from resisting… I examined the guy, he was exactly as Gary described him back at the corridor. He had a thin chainlink necklace around his neck, that seemed to fall nicely on the spot between his pecs. A
“Coach, stand up.” I ordered, and waited as he shakily got up from his seat and stood at attention. His hands seemed to shake like he was very nervous. Huh, I noticed he had his championship rings on. Normal rings but with like big crests and stuff on the upper part.
“Uh… Hey, Gary?” I looked at the enslaved jock beside me and pointed to the coach’s fingers. “Do you know why he’s wearing those? I thought they were supposed to be trophies, not literal rings…” I was pretty confused, but again, I know nothing about football other than Mike’s position being quarterback, and Gary’s is linebacker.
“They are supposed to be trophies, or some sort of collectible. But some coaches like to wear them for good luck or some shit like that. That’s what the guy told me, at least.” Gary answered, eyeing the coach as he did. For not being so involved now that he revealed the coach’s ‘evil plans’, he seemed to be enjoying the show.
Right… so I’m quite nervous here. Like, I have to deal with a guy resisting my mind control powers. Kind of, because so far he’s doing everything I say without any doubt, but it looks like he’s so tense he may break free in any minute. I had to think of something to break that resistance down…
I mean, imagine if this went wrong and coach Mark told everyone I tried to control him somehow. I may be locked up by the government, or worse!
“Uhm… Let’s see… Tell me what’s the most important thing for you, coach” I tried to find a weak point, something that would allow me to get inside his brain or something. I still don’t know entirely how this works, but… I won’t lose by trying, right?
“Dude, whatcha doing? Need some help to make him a good jockboy or somethin’?” Gary asked, almost whispering. He seemed confused, and I don’t blame him. I don’t have any idea what I’m going for here.
“Sort of, yeah. Just wait there, may need you if he wakes up and things get ugly”
The coach opened his mouth to answer, in a slow monotone voice. “Most important thing for me… my career, of course.” His body seemed to come back to life, but he had a nice smile on his face, like he enjoyed talking about this. “I used to play football in the big leagues before, kiddo. Then I decided to move to coaching with my best bud, and here I am. Won a lot of championships, y’know?”
I looked to his hands and saw the championship rings once again, and on top of the desk I saw this whistle. All the stuff I could use around me suddenly seemed highlighted, and I felt like a videogame character trying to come up with a solution for his dilemma. This just got way more fun.
I grabbed the whistle from the desk. “That sounds awesome, coach! And hey, I see you are a bit tense. Why don’t you go back to that blank state you were in a few moments ago, okay? Do it now, feel yourself relaxing more… and more…”
The smile vanished once again, as he stared straight ahead. “Relax… more and more…” He mumbled.
“Good coach. Extend your hands towards me, okay?” He nodded, and did as told. “We’re going to do a relaxation exercise now. I’m going to take one of your rings at a time, and you are going to feel yourself dropping ten times deeper into this nice relaxing state you’re in, okay?”
He didn’t seem so fond of this idea anymore, but I didn’t care. I was getting him this time! He nodded, shakily.
“Nice. And once all the rings are off, you will be so relaxed that you won’t be able to resist anymore. Your desire to give in to my words will just be so strong, so good to just listening me talk, isn’t that right?”
“Yeah… Nice to hear you…” The shaking went down a bit, but he still was visibly nervous about all of this. Hopefully this’ll work…
I reached out and grabbed one of the championship rings. There were 5 in total. Huh, I guess the guy was the real deal as a coach before? I pulled one out. “Hey, you’ve got a handful of these. Are you really that good of a coach?”
The tension went down a bit more after that first ring was off. I left it at the desk as he spoke. “Yeah… Always push my teams… to the fuckin’ limit…” Oh, he likes to swear. Nice to know.
“I could see that, you could go a little easier on them, you know?” I said, reaching out for the second ring.
“Sure… Go a little easier…” He mumbled. This seemed to be working. He seemed pretty calm now, but there were three more to go!
I kept going as I admired the big man in front of me relaxing more and more as I kept taking his championship rings off. There was one left by now, and the shaking had already stopped fully. His face didn’t show any emotion, only the same blank stare from a few moments ago.
“As soon as I take this last ring, you will become my obedient slave. Always ready to follow my orders, but acting like your old self when I’m not around or in public. You got that?” My fingers were ready to slide the last one out of his hand, but I wanted this one to be the most important one, now that he wasn’t resisting anymore.
“Yes… Become your obedient… slave…” He droned once again. It all seemed so easy now, like all the worries that were haunting me a few moments ago suddenly vanished, and the nice feeling of control washed over, putting me in charge.
“Exactly. You will become my obedient slave, addressing me as your ‘Master’. Once this ring comes off, you’ll belong completely to me. Understood?”
[God, this sounds so awful… Was I really so bad before?]
“Yes… Master…” That was my cue, I pulled off the last ring and left it at the desk. Immediately after, I could tell all resistance was definitely gone from the guy. Coach Mark smiled dumbly, looking down at me now. “How may I serve you, master?”
Behind me, Garrett clapped in awe. “That was AMAZING, master!”
Not going to lie, I felt like I was on top of the world. Like I could do anything!
I jumped a bit as celebration, as Gary clapped his hands in awe. It felt like a huge weight off my shoulders knowing I just managed to enslave coach Mark, one of the most (if not THE most) dickhead persons in the entire town.
“Hey, what’s next now?” My partner in crime asked, and that was a good question. I did wonder what I should do now. My original plan, the one I thought about for like two minutes before almost panicking, was getting to the entire football team (minus Mike).
If I did get to them, what would I do? I can’t just make a whole team get naked in the middle of the field or the locker room, someone could walk in out of nowhere and the whole thing would get shut down. Hell, someone could walk in on us right now and wonder what is going on!
I looked at the dazed coach. “Do you have your office’s key?” Mark nodded lazily. “Great, pass them to Gary”. The coach reached out to the desk, grabbed a long cord with a few keys at the end and threw them to my jock partner.
Garrett grabbed them (Luckily, I didn’t intend to hurt him with that order) and headed to the door, locking it from the inside with the key.
Now, we could have some private fun!
“Take off your shirt, coach” I ordered, kind of impatiently. I knew he had a nice body, I could see it in his frame.
“Yes, master” The guy mumbled, not moving his face again as he started carrying my order. He really seemed so peaceful now. He reached out for his shirt and slowly pulled it upwards, as his muscular torso came to view.
“Heeeeey… I wanna play too!” Gary said, pulling my sleeves to get my attention from behind me. I turned around and tried to think. God, all this thinking ‘what to do when you have a pair of guys under control’ is going to drive me nuts in no time.
“Well, you can take off your shirt too and stand beside the coach here. How does that sound?”
He didn’t wait for me to finish, he just tried to take off his own tee as soon as possible (Which probably made him waste a bit more time), before moving to the coach’s side and beating his nice chest for a second like a gorilla. “Done, master!”
Gotta say it, he really seemed excited, maybe more than I was.
While Gary did that, coach Mark finished taking his shirt off and threw it on the floor. Now both controlled guys were standing next to each other, Mark still with a blank expression while Gary shifted his gaze between me and the slave beside him.
“Anything in your mind, Mark?” I asked, wondering why he wasn’t as lively as Gary was.
“Nothing, master. I want to be a good slave for you, waiting to carry out your orders to make you proud.” Woah, he really was a competitive asshole. Even when it comes to being enslaved, he seemed to want to be the best at being enslaved.
“I’d actually prefer if you acted more… alive, if you get what I mean. Like, still obedient and devoted to me, but maybe have a bit of your old personality shining through?”
He remained silent, before a little smile began forming on his face. “Yeah, master. Anything you want.”
While Mark did seem to have a bit more of personality now, he still stood like a soldier, probably still waiting for commands.
“Alriiiight… First order of today then!” The two guys seemed to listen carefully to what I said. “Turn to face each other and give your fellow slave-bro a good, nice make out.”
Gary seemed a bit disgusted at first, but the coach didn’t waste a second and grabbed his best player. Pulling him in for a kiss that the younger jock didn’t seem to enjoy, but still went with it.
Coach Mark was pretty much bigger than Gary. Mostly because of height thought, and muscle size, yeah. But coach Mark seemed a head taller than Gary or so, which made him look quite bigger than his student.
“C’mon guys, put a bit more into it! Oh, I know! Start feeling up each other’s bodies, that’ll do the trick.” I ordered, sounding quite confident. I liked this, I really liked it.
Gary started feeling up the older man’s abs, while his other hand wandered around his back. Meanwhile, coach Mark apparently wanted to touch as much as possible, having his hands roaming Gary with a sudden intent.
Nice thing both Gary and I are over 18, otherwise this would have been veeeery weird and inappropriate.
I walked around the desk in the meantime and sat on the coach’s chair. It was incredibly comfortable, like lying on a pillow while I watched two hunks make out in front of me.
Noticing the coach’s sunglasses on the desk, I reached out to them and checked them out. “Hey coach! Mind if I try these on?” I kind of didn’t care for his permission at this point, but I was curious to see his answer.
“Nah, master. Take whatever you want, everything I own is yours now-” Gary pulled him back into the kiss, interrupting the coach’s speech.
I chuckled, realizing they were actually tongue-wrestling for control of the kiss, and Garrett just tried a dirty trick to win the battle.
“Okay guys,” I started, leaving the glasses folded on the neck of my tee. “Enough making out for now, let’s move on to the next part now.”
They stopped as I walked over to them, before standing at attention again. “Get naked. And, uh… get hard, too?” I didn’t know if that last one was going to work, but judging by their bulges they weren’t really turned on by the action that just happened.
I did notice their bulges got a bit bigger after I gave them that order, and once the clothing was out of the way, I could see that they were fully hard.
The coach’s cock seemed small. (Not that I have a big one, by any means. But the big muscles made it seem quite small.) Although compared to Gary’s, they both seemed quite average, similar sizes. Huh, weird.
He wouldn’t be using it much today, though. “Now coach, get on all fours and lift that ass a bit. Gary, get behind him once he’s done.”
Mumbling the always nice to hear ‘Yes, master’, both guys obeyed the commands I just gave them. I was already fully hard too, the feeling of control I had over them was too much for me!
The coach got down to his hands and knees, looking up at me. “What now, master?” The older man asked, as I noticed Gary spitting on his hand and rubbing his cock with it. The jock knew what was coming now.
“Weeeell…” I didn’t know how to phrase it. How do you phrase ‘You are getting fucked by your best player’? “You are getting fucked by… none other than Garrett.”
The jock behind the coach was rubbing his hard cock, before he noticed what I was saying and bowed down like some kind of actor.
Mark gulped, realizing that this wouldn’t be as easy for him. “Will…” He sighed “Will it hurt, master?”
I didn’t want to be evil or anything. I mean, he totally deserved it, but I’m better than him! Or I wanted to be, at least!
I tried my best to make it sound like an order rather than a simple answer. “Not at all, in fact, you’ll love being fucked in the ass. Got it?”
Eyes glazing for a bit, he droned a short “Got it…”, before looking back at Gary. “Whenever you’re ready, kiddo”
“Should I shove it in, master?” Gary asked, now stroking. I gave him a nod, and just sat on the desk to enjoy the show. Gary didn’t hold back *at all*, the guy literally shoved his cock in one go and started fucking the coach.
Mark didn’t seem to mind at all, he gave one loud moan when the rough thrust, and then he seemed to try to get himself quiet. His face however showed that he was really enjoying the act.
Gary grabbed the coach by the sides and started going faster. I loved the nice sight, it was all so hot!
“Hey, bro!” Gary called me, and motioned with his head to come closer. “Why don’t you step in the action? I love fucking this ass… but maybe you can get your first blowjob or something. Just sayin’, though. Not ordering you around, you’re the master here.”
He had a point though. I didn’t step in during his encounter with Brent, maybe I could do something now.
I patted his back and nodded, before walking over to the coach’s face. Quickly, I dropped my pants and underwear, leaving my own hard cock free. I’m not a big guy, but maybe I’m on the average side? I don’t know.
“Coach, look at me and open your mouth nice and big...” I ordered, stroking my own cock as I watched how Garrett pounded the man’s ass. Coach Mark obeyed, moaning a soft ‘Yes, master’ as he got fucked by his player.
I slowly slid my cock inside of his mouth. “Suck it, and be careful with the teeth” I really hoped he didn’t break free of the mind control and, I don’t know, bite my cock or something. He started wiggling his tongue around, and it felt quite nice. Not outstanding like how he was having it with Garrett, but quite pleasing.
We remained like that, as I tried the hips thrust motion Gary was doing on the coach’s mouth. It really felt like a victory. Not only my former bully was there, doing what I said, but also the asshole coach that everyone hates!
It wasn’t even 10 minutes that I could feel some warm feeling going through my body, focusing on my dick. I was going to cum!
“Okay guys. When I cum, you’re going to cum too. Got it?”
“Yeah, master!” They answered at unison. Such good boys I had!
I kept thrusting, a bit faster this time, before I took it out and came in the coach’s face. He closed his eyes and mouth shut, probably trying to avoid the semen falling in. I knew I could have made him drink it, but as I came, it was like all my kinky energy just went away. I was pretty much out of ideas about what I should order them to do.
Darn, that’s depressing.
The coach and Gary didn’t disappoint though. As I ordered, they came the exact moment they saw cum coming from my cock, but Gary kept fucking the coach’s ass. “You both can stop that now, you did great.” I panted.
“Thanks, master” “I’m honored, master” Gary and Mark answered, respectively.
I sighed, trying to come up with what to do now. I looked at the coach and suddenly had a little idea. Reaching out for his neck, I grabbed his little chainlink necklace and undid the little lock, before putting it on myself. “You don’t mind if I do that, don’t you coach?”
“Not at all, master” Was his answer, he seemed calm and relaxed. It was weird to see coach Mark like that. Kind of nice, though. He was usually an enraged mess who always yelled.
I reached out to the desk and slid two of his championship rings on my fingers. “And if I do this, coach?”
“No, master. Everything I have is yours, because I want to be your good slave, master” It was both weird but kind of hot how he wanted to be the best even at being enslaved, but I don’t mind at all, like before.
“Ooookay,” I started, grabbing the other rings and placing them in my bag. “Let’s all get dressed up again, and get going home. We’ll meet up again. Would you like that guys?”
“Yeah, master” was their answer. I felt proud, already three slaves under? Awesome.
------
Leaving the coach’s office and the locker room, Gary and I headed for the parking lot in complete silence. It was nighttime already, which made me wonder how much time we spent there. And how much time did I spend hiding under some bleachers.
“I had a lot of fun,” Gary broke the silence, smiling at me. “And you look nice with that stuff on, kinda cute. You’re like a mini-coach or something.” Not going to lie, it felt good.
But weird, this was still Garrett who was saying that to me, but it felt kind of warm.
“Huh, you really like it? I thought it was a bit dumb before…” I chuckled nervously, trying to strike a pose but it felt very embarrassing.
Gary laughed. “Yeah, I really like it. Gonna call you coach bro from now on!” We reached his car and he unlocked his doors. “So, what now?”
Assuming he was talking about what we were doing lately with the mind control stuff, I decided to answer what I had in mind so far. “I’ve got the coach now, so… Time for the team, I guess?” I really hope I can do some weird voice magic and get them all under control in one go. I will die if I have to go through them one by one, as I mentioned before.
He gave me a thumbs up. “Sounds like fun! It’s funny how the few times we’ve hung out to get a new slave-bro, I always end up fucking someone. It’s awesome!” Huh, he didn’t seem to mind he was fucking guys. Oh well, better for me. Leaves me more time to think about getting the team.
“Want me to take you home, right?” I nodded, before going around the car for the co-driver’s seat. Gary didn’t waste a moment either and got in, closing the door behind him.
Before turning the car on, he grabbed my face and pulled me in for a kiss. Unexpected, kind of nice, I decided to kiss back.
It was quite unexpected, and I decided to pull back after what seemed like forever, but it was actually 15 seconds. Huh, seemed like more.
Gary didn’t say a word, he just smiled at me. I nervously smiled back, not knowing what got into him all of a sudden. But hey, at least he’s not aggressive anymore!
The silence took over the car again as the jock drove me home. I was quite happy already, it had been a productive day.
 -----
Present Pine’s POV
“So, that’s all for today- Oh, no no no. You didn’t fall asleep again, did you?” Mike was resting on my lap, eyes closed and apparently out like a light!
Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to leave him there and just caress his hair or something to relax him more. But I wanted to go home!
Lucky for him, he opened his eyes before I started tickling him to move. “Not asleep! Just closed my eyes and started imagining the stuff. Man, that was some good stuff. How much do we have left?”
“Uh…” I looked at the laptop again, still thinking about what I would have done if he fell asleep. “Just another one, the team’s chapter”
“What?! Already the ending? Nooooo, gimme a second season Pineeeee…” He reached up and gave me a little smooch on the lips, before looking at me with puppy eyes. “Please?”
I snorted, shaking my head. “I can’t just… write more chapters, these are my memories! It’s not like I can make up fanfiction about myself. That’d be weird.”
A weird image of me mind controlling… Captain America came to my mind and made me chuckle.
“Yeah, that’s a good point.” He sat back up and stretched for a bit. I like when Mike realizes what he’s talking about. He calms down almost instantly. “Man, you got me all hard with that chapter. Gonna have to hide it somehow, my gym shorts don’t help at all.”
Oh, yeah. That would be a problem. “Well, uh… Get soft.”
Mike stared straight ahead for a few seconds, before answering a nice “Got it, done bruh. Still quite horny, but at least my buddy isn’t ratting me out, heheheh!”
I ruffled his hair and got up. He started talking about the points that interested him the most this time, but I was barely paying attention. I had another idea in mind.
Coach Mark isn’t going to return to Winston for the week, the school he works at is closed due to maintenance (Lots of old pipes that proved to be a danger, apparently.) so he was going to stay with Peter, his friend.
Maaaaaaybe he could stay over at my place after his shift is over… It would definitely be a nice surprise for Mike. I think. I hope so, because I really liked the idea now.
------
Author’s note:
Sorry for the long wait! Darn, I actually wanted to publish this one at the same time I returned with Nate and Dave on Patreon, but didn’t manage to finish the new chapter in time and was so worried about it that I forgot to publish this one. Sorry again for the long wait!
Man, I just love the coaches. I usually pick a guy to give an image to my characters, and I just happened to pic two really big bodybuilders to play the coaches. It may or may have not influenced on how much they appear, but I can’t complain. I just love a big guy 😂
I’ll try to keep the weekly releases coming. Should be okay for this week, I have a new story planned instead of Nate and Dave. Something with superheroes, if everything goes well. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling now. You didn’t see anything 🤫
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks so much for reading!
Edit: For public demand, I discovered there was a keep reading feature and I’ll start using it from now on for my long chapters. <3
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yuta-nakamots · 3 years
Text
the christmas song - m.ti
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Pairing - Taeil x Reader
Genre - Fluff, Single Parent!AU
Warnings - None (lmk if I should add any)
Summary - It wasn’t uncommon for when the weather grows colder, many hearts do as well. Though you hoped this was not true in the case of yours and Taeil’s, that the warmth of each other’s hearts would be enough to break the ice.
Word Count - 4.7k
Taglist - @ahgase55g7 @notnctu @yutacrush @pastelsicheng @puppywritings @neonun-au @dreamieofu
A/N - Inspiration: The Christmas Song by Michael Bublé. Special appearance by: @astroboy-lele​. This fic was also supposed to be released two days ago but finals has not been kind to me :’)
Written for the Taste of Winter Collab hosted by @dearyongs and @pastelsicheng. Also part of the Neowinter Festival hosted by @czennienet and the Neoholiday Festival hosted by @nct-writers.
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When you had told your best friend, Furou, that you’d pick up her son from preschool, you thought that you’d just pop in and get the kid, that’s it. You didn’t know that you had signed yourself up to be the referee at a mini MMA fight.
“Xiaolong put the toy down.” You commanded the four-year-old you were supposed to be signing out. He was currently fighting over a little dragon figurine with a young girl who appeared to be his age or somewhere around there.
“No! I had it first!” He cried out. “Get your own dragon!” He yelled towards the girl.
“Xiao, give her the dragon, we’re going home.” You stated firmly.
He refused to give up the toy and started whining even louder, prompting you to pull the toy out of his grasp. “You need to learn how to share, young man,” you scolded before turning to the little girl he was fighting with, “I’m sorry about that sweetie, what’s your name?”
“Jaeha.” You were surprised when you heard two voices, one from the girl in front of you and another from behind you. Turning around, you were greeted by a handsome young man who you assumed was Jaeha’s father from the resemblance she bore to him. “Her name is Jaeha. Sorry about her, she’s a bit much to handle when she sees something she wants.”
“Oh, it’s alright, Xiaolong here needs to learn how to share things properly,” you motioned over to the said boy who still had his eyes on the little dragon in your hands, “I can’t believe he’s nearly five years old and doesn’t know what sharing is.”
“Jaeha’s the same way. It must be an age thing,” the man said with a chuckle, “Is he yours?”
Your eyes widened as you hurried to explain your relation to Xiaolong. “He’s not mine, I’m just here picking him up for my best friend. She has her hands full being a med student and all.”
“Ah, I see,” He remarked as he picked up Jaeha, “this little rascal is mine, though I wouldn’t trade her for anything else in the world.”
You felt a tug on your shirt and looked down to see Xiaolong still eyeing the toy. “No, Xiao, mommy is waiting for you at home. I can buy you a little dinosaur of your own if you want one so badly, how about that?” The boy broke into a smile at your offer.
“Oh, can you recommend some good kid’s stores in the area? I just moved here so I’m not too familiar with everything just yet.” The man informed you.
“At least you had the sense to come at the beginning of the school year, I pity the kids who are just thrown in during the middle of the school year,” you commented, “but the toy store I normally take this little guy to is the one near the end of this street, it’s in the little shopping center.”
“I’ll try taking Jaeha there once we get a little more settled in, thank you. My name is Taeil by the way. You are?”
“Y/n,” you said with a smile, “would you like my number? Like in case you ever need anything?”
“Yeah, sure! That’s very kind of you.” His voice was very sweet and kind of calming, you noticed.
When you were dropping Xiaolong of at Furou’s apartment, you couldn’t help but let her in on your encounter from just a little earlier. “Is he cute?” She asked, excited to hear you talk about a new man after your last relationship didn’t go so well.
“He is, but he Furou, I just told you that he has a daughter. He probably has a wife or at least a girlfriend if anything.” You didn’t want to get your hopes up in case this was true.
Furou hummed out in thought, “yeah well, you never know.”
You shrugged your shoulders, indifferent to the whole situation. “If you ever need me to pick him up again, feel free to call.” You said, nodding over to Xiaolong who was busying himself in front of the TV with his collection of toys.
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A week later and you find yourself in a similar situation from the daycare, except this time it’s at the local swim center where you were supposed to be picking Xiaolong up from.
The only difference was that this time Taeil had gotten to the two fighting kids before you did. “Jaeha, no, Xiaolong had the goggles before you did. You can’t just take them from him when he’s clearly using them.”
Xiaolong made a face at her, seeing as how her own father sided with him. Jaeha made the same mocking face back at him. “But Daddy, he’s being mean.” She whined.
“That doesn’t mean that you have to act the same back to him.” Taeil explained calmly to the irritated four-year-old.
“Jaeha, how about you apologize to Xiaolong so he knows you’re sorry.” You proposed, joining Taeil where he stood in front of the two kids, both still dripping from being in the pool.
Jaeha let out a sigh before turning to Xiaolong. “I’m sorry for taking your goggles.” She admitted plainly.
“And?” Taeil prompted.
“And I won’t do it again.” Jaeha concluded.
You turned to Xiaolong, “do you accept her apology?”
“Do I have to?” He questioned.
“No, but it would be nice if you did.” You replied.
“Okay, then I guess I will.” You made a mental note to tell Furou that her son was getting increasingly sassier by the day so she better watch her mouth around him.
After both kids were sent off to go wash up and change, Taeil spoke up as you both waited for them to return. “Sorry about that again. If you don’t mind, how about I take you to lunch sometime as an apology.”
“No apology necessary but I like the sound of that. Are you free this week?” You inquired.
“Yes, actually. Does Friday work for you?” He appealed.
“It sure does,” you informed him with a smile, “we can talk about the details over text, the kids are coming back.”
Taeil’s smile mirrored yours as he agreed with you, “sounds like a plan.”
As you were dropping Xiaolong off at Furou’s once again, you told her about the new development in your relationship with Taeil. “Okay but no taken man would ask out a woman to lunch.” She commented.
“It could just be in a friendly manner because he said ‘as an apology’ for the kids fighting at swim class.” You reasoned.
“Check his ring finger,” Furou sighed out, “you need to check it next time you see him or else I really will strangle you.”
Your eyes widen at her statement. “Not every married or taken person wears a ring these days.”
Furou put her head in her hands. “You’re really frustrating to work with, you know,” she pauses as she looks back at you, “I’m rooting for you, I really am, so stop making excuses and actually try, will you?”
“Fine, fine, but if, and only if, he is single and is ready to be in a relationship.” You decided.
“Fair enough.” Furou agreed.
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It was currently Wednesday and you had told your coworkers Xiaojun and Hendery about your upcoming dating on Friday. The three of you were hired around the same time under the marketing branch of Neo Corp. and quickly grew close to each other after finding out you were all the same age.
Part of your job as being part of the marketing team was to come up with possible marketing strategies for the company, which Hendery excelled at. Though sometimes, he got a little too extreme and that’s where Xiaojun comes in to moderate him. You did a little bit of both, coming up with the ‘Gen Z’ type of ideas with Hendery but also keeping things realistic and reasoning with Xiaojun why some ideas are better than others. Such was the case with your situation with Taeil.
“Do you know where he plans on going for lunch then?” Xiaojun asks, excited to hear about an actual possible relationship as opposed to Hendery’s weekly hook-ups.
You shook your head, “he said he would text me but he hasn’t yet.”
“Are you sure he even has your number?” Hendery chimed in.
“Yes, I’m sure. I told you that we traded numbers after the preschool incident.” You breathed out, wondering just how Hendery got himself hired.
He held his hands up in defense, “just double-checking.”
At that moment, your phone vibrated and you picked it up without much thought.
Unknown > y/n
11:46pm: Hi y/n, this is Taeil. I thought about this for a bit, and it’s actually quite embarrassing to admit, but I don’t really know where would be a good place to go for Friday. I’m open to any suggestions you have though, I trust your taste.
“Oh my gosh, guys he just texted me,” you exclaimed, “he said that he doesn’t know where to go and wants me to suggest somewhere to go.”
“How would he not know where to go?” Hendery wondered in disbelief.
“Hey, not everyone is level 100 at dating like you are.” Xiaojun teased though Hendery took it as a compliment and winked at him while laughing. “Anyways,” Xiaojun continued, “maybe you could go to that little coffee shop down the street. The one we ordered the sandwiches from last week.”
“Those were some pretty good sandwiches” Hendery interjected.
“Hmm, I actually like the sound of that. I’ll send him the address for it, thanks guys.” You told them appreciatively.
Xiaojun spun around in his chair, “wow, I can’t believe our y/n is finally going on a date for the first time in over a whole year.”
You looked up to shoot him a look. “It doesn’t help when all you men are so weird.”
“She’s not wrong.” Hendery commented in agreement.
When Friday came around, you couldn’t help but be excited for your little date with Taeil. You had even somehow managed to sneak out ten minutes before your lunch break began, though you probably should have just left then instead.
There was the familiar ding of the elevator when you hit the button and you hoped it wouldn’t take long since the indicator above the door showed it was coming down from one of the higher floors. You also hoped it would be empty since that was the floor the executives were on and you didn’t really want to be caught leaving for lunch earlier than you should be.
Luck clearly was not on your side when the door opened, revealing your director, Taeyong along with none other than Taeil. “...yeah she’s really nice and pretty cute too. I met her when I was picking up Jaeha from swim-” He barely managed to stop himself mid-sentence when he realized your presence.
“Good afternoon, Ms. y/n.” Taeyong greeted you as you stepped into the elevator next to him.
“Good afternoon to you too, Mr. Lee.” You replied, not missing the pout he made when you referred to him so formally.
“I told you to just call me Taeyong, we’ve worked together for almost five years now.” He whined, childishly stomping his foot to help get his point across.
You shook your head with a laugh. “I can’t help it, you’re my boss and we’re at work. When we’re not on the clock then maybe I’ll call you Taeyong,” you couldn’t hide your smile at the way his eyes filled with hope because of your words, “but right now you’re Mr. Lee, chief marketing officer of Neo Corp. and my head director, so let’s keep things professional.”
Taeyong let out another grumble, causing Taeil to chuckle, inadvertently reminding Taeyong of his presence. “Oh, right! Ms. y/n, this is Taeil, chief information officer. He just transferred over from our branch in Korea.”
You looked over at Taeil, unsure of how to react in case he wanted to keep your relationship on the low. “Ah, I actually met y/n last week.” He informed Taeyong, the two of them sharing a knowing look.
The elevator chimed once again as it slowed to a stop at a different floor. “Well it’s nice to know that you’re making friends here, Taeil,” Taeyong remarked as he stepped out of the elevator, “but I’ll see the two of you around, no funny business in the elevator!”
You laughed as the doors shut and the elevator continued on to the ground floor. “So, chief information officer? Really?” You asked in disbelief, turning to Taeil.
“Yeah, really.” He replied, a hand behind his neck as he looked away shyly. “I wasn’t planning on saying much about my job but since you’re in the company anyway, I guess there’s nothing to hide.”
“If anything, I have more to hide.” You joked, immediately stopping to explain when you see Taeil’s worried expression. “I mean like, with me leaving early for lunch right now and the other stuff that goes on in the marketing department since you’re an executive and all.”
“Oh, you can still talk to me, I promise I won’t tell Taeyong.” He said as you shot him a look while the elevator dinged once again, signaling its arrival.
Continuing your conversation on the walk to the cafe, you asked Taeil “why did you move here, especially since Jaeha is so young?”
“I was actually just recently promoted after the former head director retired,” he explained, “the branch in Korea isn’t as developed as the one here so the company asked me to move out to this one just to make things easier.” You nodded your head to let him know you were listening. “As for Jaeha, the timing worked out with school just starting up.”
“Don’t you have a wife or girlfriend that you could have left her with?” You question, hoping the question wasn’t too invasive.
Taeil hesitates a bit before responding. “Her mother...she passed away two years ago. I’ve spent so long mourning her loss and only recently did I decide that it was time for a change and the promotion came just like that.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“No it’s totally fine, I understand where the curiosity came from.” Taeil interrupted, which you weren’t upset about at all.
Speaking with Taeil was surprisingly easy considering the fact that you’ve only known him for a little over a week. Even as the two of you ate, it wasn’t awkward like you thought it would be. You were able to connect with him as you spoke about the best places to shop or go to hang out. You even had enough confidence to ask him out on a date to one of the latter places, which he agrees to.
This first date turned into a second, then a third, and even up to a sixth. Xiaojun and Hendery are always asking for the latest details, wanting to be kept up to date with your budding relationship. You made sure to keep Furou in the loop too since she was the one who helped to start this relationship by asking you to pick up her son from preschool. Though again, she had called you to pick him up from his swim lessons since it was finals season and she forgot she had a paper due at midnight.
It was already November and the fall weather was changing to winter, even the heated indoor pool was not enough to keep the chill out of the room, causing you to shiver just a bit as you waited for Xiaolong’s class to end. You distracted yourself by watching the kids swim back and forth with their instructors and got so caught up in it that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Taeil sat down next to you.
Both of you laughed at the situation and began talking about anything that came to mind whether it be about work, Jaeha’s antics at home, a new recipe you tried out, you really felt like you could talk to Taeil about anything. It was quite disappointing when you heard the chatter from the kids as they all began getting out of the pool and going to change out of their swimwear.
You said goodbye to Taeil when Xiaolong and Jaeha came out, bickering as usual, though it seemed to be more friendly since it was about which superhero would win in a fight though neither side really wanted to admit defeat. As much as you wanted to watch them continue their debate, you knew Furou would be waiting for you so you helped Taeil end it and take the kids out of the building.
As you were getting into your car, you hear an engine struggling to start from nearby though you pay it no mind since the cold weather can cause cars to act up. You looked around, trying to figure out which car it was when you realized that the engine really wasn’t starting and found a very frustrated looking Taeil getting out of his car and opening the hood of it.
You told Xiaolong you’d be back in a bit before leaving to offer Taeil help in any way possible. You didn’t really know much about cars so it just ended up being you offering him a ride home, which he gratefully accepted since the sun was starting to set and the temperature continued dropping.
Taeil smiled at you once both of the kids were secured in the backseat and resumed their previous argument. “Thanks for being so nice and helping me out like this. You really didn’t have to.”
“I didn’t have to,” you agree, “but I wanted to.” You saw Taeil make a face out of the corner of your eye. “I’m sorry, was that too cheesy?”
“It was cheesy but I like it.” He chuckled, which was not a surprise to you after hearing the jokes he often makes.
The ride to Taeil’s apartment was rather peaceful aside from the kids in the back and it ended a little too soon for your liking but it seemed that Taeil was thinking the same was since he graciously invited you inside for a bit to thank you.
Jaeha was getting tired and cranky and started actually arguing with Xiaolong though Taeil quickly put it to rest when he turned on the TV and put on a show that he claims Jaeha has been really into these days. As soon as the kids are successfully distracted, the two of you decide to move your conversation to the kitchen where you won’t disturb them.
“Taeyong has been asking about you a lot these days.” He informs you.
You raise an eyebrow at this. “Really? What does he say about me?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just telling me to take good care of you and how he’ll send me back to Korea if I hurt one of his favorite employees.” He shakes his head at the playfulness of his fellow executive. “I didn’t know you were one of his favorites though.”
“You’d never believe this but he hired me on the spot after seeing a few of the ads I had put together for other companies.” You pulled out your phone to see if you still had pictures of them that you could show to Taeil. “Mr. Suh even said that he thinks Taeyong may or may not have had a crush on me, though he was leaning strongly towards the ‘may have’ side.”
“Ah, that’s Johnny alright. Always getting up in other people’s business. I’m surprised he’s not on me the way Taeyong is though.” Taeil laughed.
“Isn’t he busy with the foreign expansion project? Or is that not under his watch?” You ask.
Taeil shook his head, “it’s under him but he’s working with HR and finances as well so things are taking a while.”
“It’s HR, what do you expect?” You joke, drawing a chuckle from Taeil too.
“But anyway, I’m glad Taeyong didn’t act on his possible crush on you.” He states.
“Oh? And why is that?” You questioned.
“Well, you see, I actually really-” He was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing.
You pick it up, checking the caller ID, and let out a gasp when you see it was Furou and just how late it had gotten. “Hold on, I have to take this. Hello?”
You’re answered by the audio of Marlin from Nemo going “have you seen my son? Have you seen my son?” and nearly snort from how ironic it was.
“Sorry, I stopped by somewhere else for a bit. I’ll bring Xiao back in a bit, I promise.” You told Furou.
“Okay, but hurry up, his dinner's getting cold.” She grumbled.
You rolled your eyes, forgetting that she couldn’t see you. “You have a microw-” the beeping over the line interrupted you and you pulled the phone away from your ear only to see that she hung up on you. “That bitch, I swear-”
“Xiaolong’s mom?” Taeil guessed.
You nodded your head and let out a sigh. “I should get going before she gets any more pressed on where her son is. I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Alright, please drive safely.” He tells you as he goes to get Xiaolong from the living room.
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The first snow had fallen in the second week of December, indicating that it was time for the annual marketing department’s holiday party. Most, if not all, of the people in the department, looked forward to the party since Taeyong had declared it to be totally informal, no treating people as superiors in the workplace, no formal mentions of names, nothing.
You knew a fairly large amount of people in the marketing department and most of them knew each other as well so it was easy to pinpoint an unfamiliar face in the crowd. “Who’s that guy in the corner over there?” Hendery asks you as you both stood in line for the buffet.
You looked over, finding the person in question, only to realize it was Taeil. Next to him was Taeyong who had caught you staring and waved at you. Taeil turned as well, smiling as you waved over at them before sending you a little finger heart. “Okay, now I really want to know who he is. What was all that about?” Hendery pressed.
“Can’t you see? That’s clearly Taeil,” Xiaojun butted in, “who else would she be giggling about when they send her a heart like that? You’re so dense sometimes.”
“Hey! That’s only sometimes though.” Hendery defends, emphasizing the word ‘sometimes’. “Let’s go sit at the table next to them. Xiaojun go sit down before someone else does.”
Xiaojun let out a whine. “That means I have to get out of line and get back in line once you guys already have your food though.”
“We won’t start eating without you, I promise.” You tell him.
Xiaojun caves at that and goes “ugh, fine” as he walks over to the table next to Taeyong, Taeil, and the other higher-ups.
“That promise only extends to you right? You didn’t say ‘we promise’, right?” Hendery whispers into your ear.
Scoffing, you hit his shoulder, “Be nice.” He rubs the spot where you hit him and mocks your expression.
Hendery’s teasing continues throughout all the games like ‘pin the tail on Taeyong’ when he insisted that you do it on Taeil, which Taeyong even supported and allowed to happen. This paired with when Hendery screamed out yours and Taeil’s names for the pocky challenge was really pushing your buttons but you couldn’t deny the fact that you enjoyed being with Taeil and getting to feel the slightest brush of his lips against yours.
“So, do you have any plans for the holidays?” You ask him as you take the seat next to him, seeing as how Hendery was actively talking to Taeyong who was currently in yours.
Taeil lightly hummed “mmm, no, not really. Why?”
“I was just gonna say that if you don’t have anywhere else better to be, I’d like it a lot if you were to come over to my apartment sometime.” You say shyly.
“I like that too,” he admits with a smile, “how about Christmas Eve? That way we don’t get in your way in case you have any plans for Christmas?”
“Yeah, that sounds good to me.” Laughter erupted from the table next to you and you looked over to see Taeyong all but choking down your glass of water with a half-eaten pepper in front of him while Hendery films him with his phone. “Thank god we’re off for the rest of the week.” Taeil nods in agreement.
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It was Taeil’s idea to cook dinner together since he didn’t want you to go through the hassle of making a large meal on your own. You were thankful though since you didn’t really trust your own cooking abilities, especially since you were fine with just eating whatever since it was usually just you eating the food you made.
Taeil was, by far, a much more skilled cook than you though he never once made you feel bad about it, instead of teaching you and giving you tips every so often. Being able to cook with him made the time go by so much faster and it made you wish that cooking was like this all the time.
The two of you took your servings of food to the living room and ate on the couch, Jaeha seated on the floor in front of both of you, the Hallmark movie on TV illuminating your living room. The movie was barely even halfway through when you hear the slightest of snores from Jaeha.
The little girl had cleaned off her plate and was now dozing off, the tiniest bit of drool forming at the corner of her lip. “I think that’s a sign that I should get going soon.” Taeil whispers, careful not to wake his daughter.
“You can stay if you want.” You tell him.
He shakes his head, “no, I really should get going. I’d rather wake her up now and get her home sooner than have her get a weird sleeping schedule going.”
“No, I mean like, you can stay the night if you’d like.”
“A-are you sure?” Taeil asks, eyes growing wide.
“Of course.”
“In that case, there’s something I want to do first.” He pulled out his phone and began typing before holding it above both of your heads.
You look up at his phone at back at him in confusion, “what are you-”
“It’s mistletoe, look!” He showed you his phone screen and sure enough, it was an image of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.
Rolling your eyes, you tell him, “if you want me to kiss you, you could have just asked.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Then can I just ask you to be my girlfriend?”
You froze with your mouth slightly open. “Moon Taeil, that is like, the smoothest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“Sooooo is that a yes?”
“Definitely a yes,” you set your plate down on the side and leaned over from where you were sitting, closing the distance between you and Taeil, “now how about that kiss?”
Taeil’s lips met yours and couldn’t believe how soft they were. You felt his hand come up to caress your cheek as your lips slowly began moving together. His lips parted ever so slightly but before either of you could do anything, “Dear Santa, my wish is to never see this happen ever again.”
You and Taeil broke apart from each other, looking down to see Jaeha with her hands over her eyes. Taeil picked her up and settled her in between both of you. “Well, sweetie, you’re going to have to get used to it because you’re going to be seeing y/n a lot more often now.”
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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