#HOW am i fucking up when i analyze every sentence i say

[cyxnidx]

HI HI HELLO! I saw ur cat n mouse gamr for Wriothesley and loved the idea so much! I would like to request f! Reader x wanderer (genshin) playing a cat n mouse game as well hehe. And if you dont mind please do write more on the smut part I am very curious on how itll play out 🫢 TY!

CAT & MOUSE 2 !

character pairing: wanderer / scaramouche x f!reader

warnings: smut, degradation(use of 'slut, whore') + a little praise, oral (m!receiving), cat & mouse game, slight bondage (ropes🤭)

a/n: Hi~, apologies for such a late response :(. had to get some sort of inspo flowing. i'm glad you enjoyed, & hope you enjoy this one even more <3.

"where are you, slut." wanderer's tone echos throughout the house.

you're hiding - hiding, being bratty, as usual. getting your boyfriend all riled up, only to leave him to deal with his boner himself.

not this time, though. it seems you've gotten him a little too riled up today.

you slap a hand over your mouth when you hear his shoes against the hardwood floor, hoping he doesn't find you.

now you're realizing its foolish - and your hiding place doesn't make it any better. under the bed, really?

"come out, come out, wherever you are.." he calls again, obviously teasing you. hes so close, so near, yet you don't have sight of him.

the adrenaline rush is addictive. it's probably the main reason you're doing this to begin with. the rush of hiding, and the chance of being caught, and fucked to oblivion?

its addicting.

you notice it goes quiet. it doesnt seem like the wanderer is walking anymore, nor is he calling for you.

theres only one conclusion you can come to when this occurs.

and before you know it, you're yanked up by your ankles and pinned to the ground.

you've been caught.

you fight him, for the fun of it. to give him a hard time, not that you want to win. not necessarily. the whole point is to get under his skin.

finally, he gets you under control, and thats when you notice a rope being held between his teeth. he holds your hands above your head with one hand, while with the other, he works to tie your wrists together.

"scara - let's talk about this!" you whine, only adding fuel to the fire. you knew he wouldn't wanna talk - why would he?

without a word, he throws you onto the bed you once were taking cover under. "not another word, you hear me?" he demands. "say anything more, and I'll stuff that pretty mouth with my cock."

your eyes narrow, analyzing his. lust swirls in his pupils, a gaze of daggers stabbing you. though, despite the betting stare he's giving, you take it as an opportunity to provoke him more.

"well, if you're so bold, do it-"

you're basically cut off at the last syllable of your sentence when he moves you off the bed. his grip is harsh on your waist, and you were on the ground before you knew it.

"open your mouth," he says in a haste, unbuckling his pants and fiddling with his zipper.

"wha-"

"open. your. fucking. mouth." he demands, stroking the bud of precum over his cock as he waits. you let your tongue fall out of your mouth, mouth wide, awaiting to be filled by his cock.

not taking more than a minute, he shoves his cock down your throat, immediately fucking you.

"you," he pants, the warmth of your throat hitting him like a truck. like a pressure he never knew he needed for the minute. "fuckin' slut. always rilin' me up n', shit."

he continues to shove himself down your throat, your gags filling the otherwise quiet house. he grabs a harsh fistful of your hair and your hands go to massage his balls, tempting him to cum down your throat.

his head tilts back. "god, damnit. you're sucha little slut, fuck, taking my cock like a good little girl. mmh, g'na let me cum down your slutty little throat? huh?"

you attempt to moan in response, the tightening gesture throwing scaramouche over the edge, filling your throat with his seed.

he waits for you to finish sucking every little bit off his cock before moving you to the bed. "good little slut, you must like to be used." he mumbles, turning you over on your stomach and arching your back. "g'na treat you how you want, yeah? like the little whore you love to be."

#cyxnidx #genshin impact #smut #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #smutty smut smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #cat & mouse #cat and mouse game #yes this is inspired by haunting Adeline #scaramouche genshin x reader #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramucci #genshin scara #genshin scaramouche #scara x reader #scaramouche my beloved #scaramouche #the wanderer #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer

[iouinotes]

Show-off | Mike Ross

pairing: Mike Ross x female!reader

show: Suits

genre: smut word count: 2,9k

summary: you and your co-worker Mike dont get along very well. But when you have something that he needs, suddenly everything is different.

a/n: Just watched the first two episodes of "Suits" and something about Mike is really attractive-

Working in a well-known office as a lawyer has it's advantages. Such as being respected by business people or being able to afford a lot of things, you spend all your evenings analyzing documents rather than meeting actual people.

Nevertheless, sometimes there are also negative factors. For example, my co-worker Mike, who really believes, that he is with his ridiculously skinny tie and sarcastic humor better than the others. Or right now, better than me.

"God, I cant believe you. Can you behave for once?" I use my fingers to push my hair back in frustration, noticing how my head starts to hurt. Its 10 pm and I'm currently trying to stay calm, though because of one man in particular, my nerves seem to be getting thinner within seconds. Valuable time is wasted that I could spend somewhere else instead of with him.

"Now it's my fault, that you don't have the documents with you? Sorry, I can't help you being organized in your own workplace." His voice irritates me. Everything about him is so frustrating.

"I told you, I didnt get the message! How am I supposed to know, that you need something, when you don't tell me anything about it? Maybe you should stop being so childish and ask me in the first place, instead of running to Rachel!" If our job had nothing to do with justice and we werent literally standing in a law company right now, I would kill him. And then I wouldn't hesitate to go to court and say it was self-defense, because I didnt want to hear any of his miserable excuses anymore.

"So what do you think, I should do? I need these documents for tomorrow. Please, I know you don't like me, but it is really urgent." Why does he has such blue eyes? The look he is going me is even more irritating than his voice.

I sign, exhibit my laptop and try to put the pens back, that are laying all over my desk.

"Okay, fine. As I said, the documents are at home, so-" I don´t even get to finish my sentence.

"Great, so I'll meet you there. And I wont even tell anyone, if your place is a mess." His eyes wander over my messy desk, and even If I don´t like to admit it, it's a bad habit of mine. But, he shouldn't make any assumptions about the neatness in my apartment.

"I hope you loose the documents on your way home." At my words, he grins smugly.

"Well, then I could lie and say you didnt found them anymore and I hadnt had the chance to go through them." He leans towards me.

"I'll run you over with my car." He raises his eyebrows at my threat.

"You sure should do something that makes you smile more often. Is that even something you know how to do?" I show him my middle finger and turn to left my office. When I close the door, I hear the laughter in his voice.

"The next storm should be named after you as quickly as you left the room." He follows after me.

"Can you shut up for once? Oh, I forgot. You don´t last one second being silent. Thats a shame, the world could finally heal." His hand rests on his heart, his features fake a hurt expression.

"Ouch. You really don´t like me that much, huh?" His eyes try to search mine.

"You get on my nerves on purpose every fucking day. Should I thank you for that?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Yes, you should. Your life would be so boring without me." He grins at me again from the side, that typical grimace that is always adorn on his face.

"You wish." When I tell him my address, he raises his eyebrows, but before he can make an unfavorable comment, I get into my car.

Darkness surrounds me and when I see him going away, I lower my head to the steering wheel. He really is the best at confusing my emotions.

~~~~~

I turn off the lights of my car and get out of it, so I can finally make my way to my flat. Its not something special, I mean I have a living room, which is quite big and connected to the kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. But I am very lucky, because I have a small balcony, from which I can watch the stars at night. But I usually only do that when I can't sleep.

So, when I enter my apartment, I let my eyes wander over the manageable mess, I put some clothes back in the closet and the dishes in the washing machine. The place almost looks decent, when I hear the doorbell.

As I open the door, I'm nervous for some reason. I let him in and turn to my office drawers, looking for the document.

"Nice place. You live here alone?" His fingers trace my bookshelf, I see him reading the titles.

"No, my wife is still at work." When I look at him dead serious, I see him laugh in surprise.

"So, you do have humor. I thought, you were one of those exceptions that wouldn't be able to do that." He means it as a joke, but something in my chest hurts.

When I reply with a monotonous voice, I see his eyebrows pull together. "I live here alone. That's what you wanted to hear?" I'm getting more frustrated again with every second he's around me.

"No- I didnt mean it that way. I'm sorry. My intentions were good, I promise." When I look at him for a moment, I see his honest expression.

It would be so easier for me to hate him, if I didnt know, he was a good human. Well, most of the time.

We are silent for a moment, but when I hear his footsteps, I tense up.

"What are you doing?" He's now standing right next to me.

"Helping you. You seem a little, tense?" I glare at him for a moment and he raises his hands in defense.

"Just pointed out the obvious. But dont worry. You still look lovely." I stop in my movements at his words.

"Thats such shock for you?" His voice shows surprise and a certain curiosity.

"Only that you say it." I look into his eyes.

"Well, you may think I'm dumb, but I'm not blind."

He just called me beautiful, sort of. It´s confusing me.

When I finally find the documents, I hold my hand out to him.

"I don´t think you are dumb. I think you're annoying. And a show-off. I don´t like that." His eyes follow me.

"What do you like then?" His question surprises me. He slowly takes the documents out of my hand, his finger gently brushing mine.

"I don´t think that is any of your business." I try to clear my voice. His touch makes me shiver.

"Come on, tell me. Would that be so bad?" His whole presence is making me nervous and I feel my hands start to shake.

At work, I can always hide behind a mask, pretend that nothing he does affects me. I can act like I truly hate him, even though I catch myself looking at him, from time to time. Especially when he shows off his intelligence without realizing it, impresses his clients and -I would never admit it- me too. It's a certain charm about him, the way he always knows how to answer, while being mischievous and clever about it.

But now, that he's in my apartment and so close to me, it's suddenly different. And I don't know how to react to him being nice.

"I look for someone who isnt afraid of commitment. Someone who is honest and kind, but who also challenges me. I want to feel safe, so I can put my trust not only in myself."

He nods and is quiet for a moment, I begin to feel stupid for telling him all of that, when he responds.

"I get that. Someone whose shoulder you can lean on when things get too much. Someone who meets your needs, who wants to be in your life. For longer than a one-night stand." He smiles at me and I see for the first time, why I possibly could like him.

"Also, statistics show higher rates of being robbed or kidnapped, when you have one-night stands." This remark almost makes me laugh, even though it's frightening.

"Well, who would even notice, if I would disappear? Probably only my clients, because they need me." I lower my head, being completely honest with him for the first time.

"I would notice."

When I look at him, he takes a step towards me. His fingers gently slide over my shoulder and brush my hair aside, the touch makes a warm feeling bloom in my chest.

"I couldn't annoy you anymore. My life would be pretty boring without you. And it's not so bad to be able to look at such a pretty face every day, even if it always looks at me annoyed, like all the time." I quietly laugh at that, feeling surprisingly good because of his compliment.

We look at each other, now being really close. My eyes travel to his lips and I don´t even know how it happens, but suddenly he is all over me. His lips on mine, his hands on my waist, lifting me up to sit me on the desk. I moan softly when his hands tangle in my hair and he pushes himself closer to me, so that he's standing between my legs. One of his hands gently wraps around my neck and I feel my loud pulse.

My hands move too, stroking his back and holding him closer to me by his tie. As he pulls his lips away from me, he lifts my chin with his finger. Now, looking down at me with widen pupils. I hold his eye contact, forgetting all about my issues with him, when he speaks to me with a deep voice (which I suddenly don´t think sounds irritating anymore).

"Be angry at me tomorrow and mine for tonight. I bet, all your frustration from work and your thin nerves can catch a break, what do you say?"

Not much. Because I pull him towards me by his tie and kiss him again. I don't want to stop at all anymore. He returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm and his hands find their way to my waist again to lift me up again. When he crosses the living room with quick steps and lays me down on the sofa, I already feel out of breath and clearly turned on.

His kisses become more intense, his lips move from my mouth to my neck, leaving marks there. But it feels too good to make him stop.

"I will gladly hear your excuses, when someone asks you about your hickeys tomorrow. Because you will be all flustered, when you think again about this moment. Where you are ready to be fucked by your colleague, who you despise so much." I whimper as he pushes up my dress and his hands pull my tights down to my knees. The cold air hits my skin, but I don't really notice it, because his lips are on my neck again and his fingers connect first with my stomach and then further down. I hold my breath as his lips touch my ear and his fingers stroke my folds.

"So wet for me. Didnt think, I would turn you on this much." I kiss him to shut him up.

"You are-" I moan, when he finally puts a finger in me. "-so annoying." He laughs at me.

"Am I? But you seem to like it." I feel myself getting wetter, his fingers feel so good as they move gently but firmly inside me. One of his hands moves to push my dress further up and somehow, he manages to pull it over my head. Now, I'm lying in front of him in just a bra, his hands slowly find their way over my body and to my back, which I lift slightly so that he can open the clasp.

When I lie naked in front of him and he massages my breasts, his lips touch mine and his fingers stimulate me, I feel like I'm in heaven.

He breaks apart, so he can look at me and I draw my eyebrows together, when his fingers increase in speed. My mouth opens and the sounds that escape me echo in the apartment.

"I'm- god, I think I am going to come-" at that he starts to tease me, going slower but a lot deeper. My eyes almost roll back as he hits a certain spot inside me.

"That feels good? What do you say, when you want something?" You stupid idiot.

"You stupid-" I begin to say as his lips graze my nipple and his finger scissor and stretch me out further.

"One word, darling. Say it." And because I feel this knot inside me (and maybe this side of him turns me on, like a lot), I finally open my mouth to please him.

"Please, Mike. I-I need to-" My sentence is cut off as his fingers speed up and I moan loudly.

"Thats a good girl, you can be so good to me, if I make you." His lips search mine as I finally come. My breathing is heavy and when I come down from my high and look at his face, I see the satisfied expression.

"You are done-" I can't maintain my strict facial expression and suddenly have to start smiling. His eyes widen in surprise and I raise my eyebrows, still smiling softly.

"What?" I quietly laugh at his expression.

"Nothing, its just- I have never seen you smiling so happy." I roll my eyes gently. As I look at him closer now, I see the bulge in his pants and the loosened tie. As I lean forward, his eyes shift to my body.

"You still are fully clothed. A bit unfair, don't you think?" I watch him swallow and my hands move to his chest to slowly unbutton his shirt. As I also remove the tie and slip the shirt from his shoulders, I sit myself on his lap. Rocking my hips forward and seeing his eyes close. His hands move to my hips and begin to control the movements, my eyes close too and my head leans into the crook of his neck as the movements become faster.

Sighs and heavy breaths leave his lips and once again, one of his hands moves to grab my breasts, lightly grazing the nipples.

I look at him, noticing his swollen lips and his flushed cheeks. His hair is a mess and his forehead is furrowed, but he tries his best to pull himself together.

I groan as I look at him and suddenly think back to todays afternoon, when he was on a phone call and I heard how he listed one reciting fact after another, without any difficulty.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"N-nothing" I'm definitely too embarrassed to admit how much his intelligence and the way he seems to know everything, turns me on.

One of his hands moves to my entrance and teases me by just circling around it. When I try to push myself down, he pulls his fingers away.

"You tell me, whats going on in that pretty head of yours and you'll get me." My body feels so hot, I can't think properly anymore.

"You where on a phone call today and you just- you listed without any effort every single point that will help you win the case. You just said it like- it's nothing."

When his fingers dig into me again, I bite my lips. I try to control my moans and not pay attention to the fact, that I just gave him every opportunity to make him be more complacent than his usual self.

His fingers pump into me and I feel slightly overstimulated. But I wouldnt want to stop now.

"You get off by the thought of me, saying memorized facts? Who would have thought that my intelligence would turn you on so much." God, his ego probably doesn't fit in this apartment anymore.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, you still annoy me." Now I'm really just trying to get myself out of the situation. I lean towards him, so he can't say anything anymore and pull on his blonde hair to distract him.

Moans escape my lips and when I notice that his noises are also getting louder, I pull away from him. He looks at me confused.

"I want you inside me." Thats all I say, but he quickly complies with my request. I slide off his lap and wait for him to take off his pants and boxers until he's finally on top of me again. His fingers find my bottom lip and while maintaining eye contact, I open my mouth so he can insert a finger. My tongue brushes against his and after a few moments of him pressing on my tongue, he lets his fingers move back to the spot that needs him the most.

He stretches me for a few minutes until he finally guides his cock to my hole and slowly penetrates me. My eyes close and I hear his breath in my ear as he pushes further.

"You are so tight- good thing finally someone fucks you." I nod without thinking and hear his laughter in my ear.

"You think so too, huh. Would you let anyone fuck you then?" My stomach tenses, I feel the pleasure growing again and every movement of him. This feels so good-

I try to shake my head, but I'm too lost in the sensations to pay much attention to his words.

"No? But I thought, you hate me. Why would you let me fuck you, if you don´t even like me?" His thrusts become faster and more uncontrolled, I feel him getting closer to his own high.

"I-" I try to stutter "d-don´t hate you." I feel myself getting closer and reach into his hair, pulling at the roots and feeling his lips on my shoulder. His thrusts become more powerful and as he moves his hand and massages my clitoris, suddenly everything goes white in front of my eyes and I come.

I feel every inch inside of me, feel his fingers brush over the visible bulge in my stomach and think to myself: god I feel so full

When he comes too, I moan so loudly that it's impossible that my neighbors didn't hear me. His hand finds its way around my chin, he slides a finger into my mouth and I feel my vagina tighten because of it.

He hisses and his thrusts slow down until he finally pulls out of me, trying not to fall on top of me. As I give him some space next to me, he falls halfway on me, but pulls me on top of him in the next second and I can hear his strong heartbeat. With his outstretched hand he pulls the blanket over me, that had fallen to the floor.

We both try to catch our breath and as the minutes pass, only the wind outside is heard. He is the first to break the silence.

"So, you don't hate me?" I lift my head from his naked chest to look at him.

"Only sometimes." He shakes his head and smiles, gently stroking my back.

The evening went by quickly, we ordered a pizza and ate it (clothed) on the terrace. We were going over his documents for tomorrow, I blushed at the thought that this was the real reason he came here, but he just hugged me from behind after we finished and continued watching the stars.

It's not really clear what this evening means for us, but I don´t want to get into that, not yet. Because I'm not sure what it means anyway.

Because now, I have to get used to the fact that his voice no longer irritates me, that his jokes no longer annoy me and that he as a person, is actually not as bad as I imagined.

"Who thought, I was the one to get you relax."

But he is still a show-off.

#suits tv #mike ross #netflix #tv shows #x reader #fictional characters #smut #enemies to lovers #hate fuck

[fullstcp]

"The Last Five Years" Sentence Starters

STILL HURTING

"He/she/they is/are over and he/she/they is/are gone."

"He's/she's/they've decided it's time to move on."

"He/she/they has/have new dreams he's/she's/they're building upon."

"I'm still hurting."

"He/she/they arrived at the end of the line."

"He's/she's/they're convinced that the problems are mine."

"He's/she's/they're probably feeling just fine."

"What about lies?"

"What about things that you swore to be true?"

"What about you?"

"He's/she's/they're sure something wonderful died."

"He/she/they decide(s) it's his/her/their right to decide."

"He's/she's/they've got secrets he/she/they do(es)n't confide."

"Go and hide and run away."

"Run away, run and find something better."

"Run away like it's simple. Like it's right."

"Give me a day."

"Bring back the lies. Hang them back on the wall."

"Maybe I'd see how you could be so certain that we had no chance at all."

"He's/she's/they're over and where can I turn?"

"Maybe there's somewhere a lesson to learn."

"But that wouldn't change the fact."

"That wouldn't speed the time."

SHIKSA GODDESS

"I'm breaking my mother's/father's heart."

"If you had a tattoo, that wouldn't matter."

"Now I'm getting somewhere."

"I'm finally breaking through."

"I've been waiting for someone like you."

"The minute I first met you I could barely catch my breath."

"I've been standing for days with the phone in my hand like an idiot, scared to death."

"Well, nobody's perfect."

"It's tragic, but it's true."

"You are the story I should write."

"Just tell me what to do."

"I think that I could be in love with someone like you."

SEE I'M SMILING

"I guess I can't believe you really came."

"See, I'm smiling. That means I'm happy that you're here."

"See, we're laughing."

"I think we're gonna be okay."

"We'll have to try a little harder."

"Who knows where else we can go?"

"I think you're really gonna like this show."

"I'm pretty sure it doesn't suck."

"I think we both can see what could be better."

"I'll own when I was wrong."

"With all we've had to go through, we'll end up twice as strong."

"We'll start again this weekend."

"I didn't know you had to go so soon."

"I thought we had a little time."

"Look, whatever, if you have to then you have to."

"We'll have tonight."

"You know what makes me crazy?"

"I'm sorry, can I say this?"

"And you are gonna choose somebody else to be with?"

"That's exactly what you're doing."

"You could be here with me or be there with them."

"As usual, guess which you pick."

"You do not have to go to another party with the same twenty jerks you already know."

"You could stay with your wife/husband/spouse on her/his/their fucking birthday!"

"I know in your soul it must drive you crazy that you won't get to play with your little girlfriend/boyfriend."

"You can't spend a single day that's not about you and you and nothing but you."

"I swear to God I'll never understand, how you can stand there straight and tall. And see I'm crying and not do anything at all."

MOVING TOO FAST

"Did I just hear an alarm start ringing?"

"Did I see sirens go flying past?"

"I don't know what tomorrow's bringing."

"I've got a singular impression that things are moving too fast."

"I just expected it ten years later."

"I'm never worried to walk the wire."

"I won't do anything just half-assed."

"I found a woman/man I love."

"Some people analyze every detail."

"Some people stall when they can't see the trail."

"Some people freeze out of fear that they'll fail."

"Some people can't find success with their art."

"Some people never feel love in their heart."

"Some people can't tell the two things apart."

"Maybe I can't follow through."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"I'm doing things I never dreamed of before!"

"My heart's been stolen."

"My ego's swollen."

"It's hard not to be sure I'm spinning out of control."

"I'm feeling panicked and rushed and hurried."

"I'm feeling outmaneuvered and outclassed."

"But I'm so happy I can't get worried."

A PART OF THAT

"One day it's just a typical life."

"And then he'll/she'll/they'll smile."

"And I'm a part of that."

"Next day, it's just like it never happened."

"We're making dinner."

"We're making plans."

"And then he/she/they smile(s). His/her/their eyes light up, and I how can I complain?"

"Yes, he's/she's/they're insane. But look what he/she/they can do."

"I tend to follow in his/her/their stride, instead of side by side."

"I take his/her/their cure."

"True, but there's no question, there's no doubt."

"I said I'd stick it out and follow through."

"Then he/she/they smile(s) and where else can I go?"

"I didn't know the rules do not apply."

"And then he/she/they smile(s) and nothing else makes sense."

THE SCHMUEL SONG

"If I only had time."

"You'll get to be happy."

"I give you unlimited time."

"Maybe it's just that you're afraid to go out onto a limb."

"Maybe your heart's completely swayed, but your head can't follow through."

"Shouldn't I want the world to see the brilliant girl/boy who inspires me?"

"Don't you think that now's a good time to be the ambitious freak you are?"

"Have I mentioned today how lucky I am to be in love with you?"

A SUMMER IN OHIO

"I could have a mansion on a hill."

"All things considered, I guess you don't have to buy it."

"He/she/they want(s) me, but he/she/they ain't gonna get me."

"I found my guiding light."

"Look at me, look at him/her/them."

"Son of a bitch, I guess I'm doing something right."

"I finally got something right!"

"The torture is just exquisite while I'm waiting for you to visit."

"So hurry up, schmuck, get unstuck and get on the scene."

THE NEXT TEN MINUTES

"Will you share your life with me for the next ten minutes?"

"We can handle that."

"Just holding you might compel me to ask you for more."

"There are so many lives I want to share with you."

"I will never be complete until 'I do'."

"I am not always on time."

"Please don't expect that from me."

"I will be late, but if you can just wait I will make it eventually."

"Not like it's in my control."

"Not like I'm proud of the fact."

"I don't know why people run."

"I don't know why things fall through."

"I don't know how anybody survives in this life without someone like you."

"I could say no and goodbye. But why?"

"I want to be your wife/husband."

"I want to bear your child."

"I want to die knowing I had a long, full life in your arms."

"That I can do."

"Forever, with you."

"'Til the world explodes."

"'Til there's no one left who has ever known us apart."

"There are so many dreams I need to see with you."

"There are so many years I need to be with you."

"Isn't that the museum?"

"Can we go see the dinosaurs?"

A MIRACLE WOULD HAPPEN / WHEN YOU COME HOME TO ME

"I mean, I'm happy."

"And I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine."

"It's not a problem, just a challenge."

"I'm the center of attention. I'm the grand fromage."

"Which is dumb - I shouldn't care what she/he/they think(s) since I can't fuck her/him/them anyway!"

"You know I love her/him/them."

"When you come home to me I'll wear a sweeter smile and hope that for a while, you'll stay."

"Soon, our love will rise anew."

"It's even greater than the joy I felt just missing you."

"Once again, I'll be so proud to call you mine."

"I swear I'll be there soon."

"Don't give up on me yet."

"I am so proud of you, baby."

"You're doing what you never get to do before."

"Don't lose faith."

"Don't get down."

"Don't despair."

"I'll be there."

"We're gonna make it through."

"And nothing else will matter."

CLIMBING UPHILL

"I'm climbing uphill."

"I'm up every morning at six."

"I am a good person."

"I'm an attractive person."

"I am a talented person."

"Grant me Grace!"

"Why am I working so hard?"

"I will not be the girl who gets asked how it feels to be trotting along at the genius' heels."

"I will not be the girl who requires a man to get by."

IF I DIDN'T BELIEVE IN YOU

"But what's it really about?"

"Can we please for a minute stop blaming and say what you feel?"

"Did you think this would all be much easier than it's turned out to be?"

"If I didn't believe in you, we'd never have gotten this far."

"If I didn't think you could do anything you ever wanted to. If I wasn't certain that you'd come through somehow. The fact of the matter is, I wouldn't be standing here now."

"If I didn't believe in you, we wouldn't be having this fight."

"Don't we get to be happy?"

"Don't we get to relax?"

"And, if I'm cheering on your side, why can't you support mine?"

"Why do I have to feel I've committed some felony doing what I always swore I would do?"

"I don't want you to hurt."

"I don't want you to sink."

"But you know what I think?"

"I think you'll be fine. Just hang on and you'll see."

"But don't make me wait 'til you do to be happy with you."

"No one can give you courage."

"No one can thicken your skin."

"I will not fail so you can be comfortable."

"I will not lose because you can't win."

"If I hadn't believed in you, I wouldn't have loved you at all."

I CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT

"My best friend had a little situation at the end of their senior year."

"I thought about what I wanted, it wasn't like that at all."

"I gave up my life for the better part of a year."

"I'm starting to feel like this maybe might work."

"Just love me."

"You don't have to change a thing."

"Just stay with me."

"I want you and nothing but you."

"Finally I'll have something worthwhile to think of each morning."

"Nothing but you. No substitution will do."

"Nothing but fresh, undiluted and pure top of the line. And totally mine."

"I don't need any lifetime commitments."

"I don't need to get hitched tonight."

"I don't want you to throw up all your walls and defenses."

"I don't mean to put on any pressure, but I know when a thing is right."

"It feels like my life led right to your side."

"Think about what you wanted."

"Think about what could be."

"Think about how I love you."

"Say you'll move in with me."

"Think of what's great about me and you."

"Think of the bullshit we've both been through."

"Think of what's past because we can do better than that."

NOBODY NEEDS TO KNOW

"You look like an angel."

"I don't remember when we fell asleep."

"I made a promise and I took a vow."

"I wrote a story and we changed the ending."

"Hold on, facts are facts."

"Nobody needs to know."

"All right, it's over, it's done."

"No one will understand."

"Then I start making conscious, deliberate mistakes."

"All that I ask for is one little corner. One private room at the back of my heart."

"Come back to bed."

"I promise I won't lie to you."

"I won't let you go."

"And since I have to be in love with someone. Since I need to be in love with someone, maybe I could be in love with someone like you."

GOODBYE UNTIL TOMORROW / I COULD NEVER RESCUE YOU

"Don't kiss me goodbye again."

"Leave this night clean and quiet."

"You want the last word."

"You want me to laugh."

"But leave it for now."

"All you can say, all you can feel, was wrapped up inside that one perfect kiss."

"Goodbye until tomorrow."

"Goodbye until the next time you call."

"I will be waiting."

"Goodbye 'til I recall how to breathe."

"And I have been waiting. I have been waiting for you."

"Goodbye until the rest of my life."

"It's not about another shrink."

"It's not about another compromise."

"I'm not the only one who's hurting here."

"I don't what the hell is left to do."

"I could never rescue you. No matter how I tried."

"All I could do was love you hard, and let you go."

"All I could do was love you. God, I loved you so."

"So we could fight. Or we could wait. Or I could go."

"I didn't see a way we both could win."

"Goodbye until I'm done thanking God."

"Just close the gate. I'll stand and wait."

"Goodbye."

#rp memes #rp starters #rp prompts #rp lyric meme #lyric prompts #lyric starters #roleplay starters #roleplay prompts #sentence starters #not the old me. 2.0 me. no it's all of meme combined (ask meme) #when there was me and queue (queue) #( this feels really long. but there are just so many good lines in this show )

[elialys]

Idk why other people didn’t approach you again to tell you things you should already know is wrong. But you say you know it’s hard for a friend to tell you this, can you imagine how much harder it is for people who you have, whether intentionally or not, made to feel unwelcome+ put down? no one can come to you directly if you just disappear. Thanks for your candor here. I personally don’t need to learn to do better as I never speculated on a woman’s body+ reading public tweets suggests nothing

“…to tell you thing you should already know is wrong.”

I genuinely don’t know how to answer this. No one is perfect, we all have our shortcomings, we all have behaviors, especially online, that are more or less appropriate at times, and we don’t necessarily realize straight away that we’re fucking up, unless someone points it out to us.

(putting a 'keep reading' here because this reply is way too long)

Do you know how many times I speculated about a woman’s body regarding pregnancy before this? Zero. How many times after it initially happened in 2018? Zero. I didn’t spend “years” analyzing Anna’s body, it happened over the course of a weekend six years ago, when the initial article came out about her being pregnant on Mindhunter. It happened within a group chat composed of maybe 8 people, which was basically the size of her fandom back then, and we all fed off each other and got overexcited for a few days. I virtually didn’t make a peep about it for years, until that other article came out this past summer about her being a mom, and my reactions back then were basically caused by fangirl serotonin and a lack of common sense. Should have I known better, in retrospect? Most definitely. Am I completely unredeemable because I was human and made a mistake? Hopefully not. Again, all I can do is keep on checking my own behavior and do better in the future.

“I personally don’t need to learn to do better as I never speculated on a woman’s body”

My comment on you needing to learn to do better isn’t about that, since you clearly are blameless on that front. I still think you need to do better with how you handle situations like this one. Whatever I did to make you or others feel unwelcome or put down, I’m sorry for that. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try reaching out if something bothers you that much, it’s always better and usually have more efficient results than complaining about it behind the person’s back.

I never just “disappeared” from twitter, I have taken a few hiatuses but I’ve always come back, I’ve been more ON than OFF over the past year, so anyone who wanted to reach out to me could have reached out. Those breaks are not a way for me to hide and run away from owning up to my mistakes. I suffer from depression and anxiety, which has been triggered repeatedly this past year by twitter feeling unsafe for me, in great part because every other tweet I make these days, even the most random ones, tend to get a couple of private quotes. I clearly have no problem owning up to my mistakes here on tumblr, because I can actually talk about things in more than 5 sentences, and I know people are generally more open to discussion.

I never, ever brought up the topic of Anna’s pregnancy on my twitter again since this all came down (and never will again), not even to address my mistakes, because I’m genuinely shitting myself thinking about the negativity and private quotes that would result from it if I tried talking about it. If I knew I could have an actual conversation with people, I would, but every experience I’ve had on twitter has just made me distrustful and anxious, so I won’t put myself through this.

I just wonder if you are as intransigent and judgmental with people who are constantly claiming Anna is a lesbian, speculating about her sexuality over and over again, or with people who quote Michael Lucas’s tweets telling him, her boss and coworker, that they want Anna to sit on their face, or with people who sexualize Anna’s characters when they are in dubious, abusive situations. There are many, many inappropriate behaviors in this fandom, like there are in basically every fandom under the sun. Where do you draw the line? I assure you nobody’s perfect, not you, and certainly not me.

Because honestly, why are you here? How did you even come to see my reply to this person yesterday, about people blocking me? You clearly don’t like me much as a person, which I can understand from everything you said, so I’m so confused about why you would even be aware of what I post on my tumblr, unless you either follow it, or check it to see what I say on it, and that makes no sense to me. Even if it somehow ended up on your dash by tumblr randomness, you didn’t come here hoping to have an adult, mature conversation with me, you quoted one line of my post, and basically called me a hypocrite.

That’s the kind of behavior where you can do better. I am not an irrational person, most people aren’t. If you have something to say in the future, just say it without feeling the need to be on the offensive. If you come at it sounding aggressive, I'm more likely to become defensive. But If I do/say things that need to be addressed, I want to know, so I can work on it.  Going ‘you should have known better' isn’t a good answer either. You've got to give people a chance to fix things they get wrong. There’s only so much I can do from my end, and I think I’ve been genuine enough about my attempts to improve where I can.

#anonymous

[amiedala]

SOMETHING DEEPER

CHAPTER 26: Ru(i)n

WARNINGS: predator/prey dynamic, explicit sexual content

SUMMARY: “I,” Nova levels, voice a hell of a lot steadier than she feels right now, “am reigning Mand’alor, Jedi in training, Rebel royalty, and Her Highness Pilotess of the Outer Rim. You may be the bounty hunter, Mandalorian, but I’ve got power. This is going to be a fair fight.”

“Oh, Nova,” Din sighs, sliding his hand up her waist, her arm, to her neck, fingers closing so gently around her throat, light and restrained. “I don’t want to fight you. I want to fuck you. And even when I give you a head start, that’s all I’m going to think about. I will chase you down across Naator, I will find you, and then I will destroy you in every way you’ve been begging for.”

If you’re a newcomer, my fic “Something More” is the first installment of this story! <3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HELLOOOOO EVERYONE AND HAPPY SOMETHING DEEPER SATURDAY!! i apologize a million times for the wait but i hope this chapter, in its 16,000+ word glory, makes it up to you ;)

Nova’s heart flips, skips a beat, and then hammers. The flood of adrenaline is in her ears, the static dizzying and disconcerting. She swallows, shaking her head, trying to make sure she heard Din right. “You want me to run?”

Din nods. There’s something dangerous in the depths of his eyes. It’s like fire is looking for a place to catch, and he’s just lit the wick. “We’ll make it even. We’ll go on Kicker. And when we touch down, I’ll give you a head start. You’re going to run, Novalise. For the last time.” 

Nova swallows. “You—you want me to run?” It’s the same sentence that she managed before, but higher and breathier. Everything sounds utterly distorted. “You still haven’t forgiven me from the last time I ran, Din. And now you’re—what, giving me permission?” 

“I’m leveling the playing field.”

Nova stares. Din stares back. There’s no mirth in his voice, nothing to indicate he’s joking. Or being sarcastic. Nova doesn’t think he has the capacity for either, not with this. But she studies him, trying to analyze every single breath out of his lungs, the way his mouth shapes around the words. “You think that if you let me go,” she starts, “that I’ll come back to you?” 

It doesn’t come out like she wants to—in sheer disbelief, not in challenge—but it doesn’t matter, because Din nods. Immediately. “I know you will.” 

Nova gapes at him. Acutely, she feels the bark of the tree against the thin fabric of her clothes, the sounds of the people gathered just around the corner, the way the forest barely shields them. She’s drowning in Din, the way she wants to, the way she needs to, filling up on his oxygen because he’s already taken his own. “Din—”

“But let me make something very clear,” he says, and his gaze drops to the shape of her lips. “This will be the last time you run from me, Novalise. You are going to run, and you’re going to try to keep me at bay for as long as you can, but I will find you. This is what I do. This is who I am. And I know where you’d hide. I know where you’d go. I could find you in a galaxy neither of us have been to. I could find you in death.” He presses closer. Nova’s breath hitches in her throat. “If it hadn’t been for Sparmau taking us both, I would have beat you to Yavin.” Din’s mouth dips down to the hollow of her throat. His tongue lashes out and licks her, and Nova gasps as the cool air swallows up the place where his lips just were. “You think you can evade me?”

“You’re…” Nova swallows. She can hear how close the villagers are. Everything inside of her body is running molten and in flames. Wet, hot warmth seeps from between her legs, every single nerve inside of her body a live wire. Her heart is still arrhythmic. She meets Din’s eyes. “You’re terrifying.” 

A slow, dangerous smile cracks across his face. Nova bites her bottom lip. “You’re scared of me, cyar’ika?” 

“No,” Nova says, forcefully. “I mean, as a bounty hunter. You’re…inescapable.” 

Din leans in, pressing his mouth to hers. Before Nova’s knees get weak at the kiss, Din’s hand snakes out and grasps the base of her throat. He squeezes. Not hard enough to do anything except show her he’s there, that he could. But it doesn’t feel threatening. Nova feels alive, like everything inside of her has finally awoken. “Don’t you dare fucking forget it.” 

Nova looks up at him through half-lidded eyes. Here, he towers over her, pressing her back into the tree. “You’re forgetting something,” she whispers, barely audible over the ambient sound of the forest. 

Din raises a thick eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“I lived another life before I met you,” Nova says, slowly lifting her chin. “I became an expert in hiding in plain sight. Naator isn’t Coruscant. It’s built like my home.” She lets her tongue slide out, catching a glimmer in Din’s eyes as he stares at her open mouth. “There were times on Yavin when my parents sent the whole base out looking for me. I didn’t get lost. I wasn’t deep in the trenches. I was right there.” She swallows. “I’m an expert in running, but I’m pretty damn good at hiding, too.” 

Din’s hand catches under her chin, and Nova pulls back into his orbit—intentionally, teetering on the edge of forceful. But the only thing it does is explode heat deep in her stomach, heartbeat quickening with excitement rather than fear. “I’m an expert in finding.” 

“You’ll find me when I want you to find me.” 

“I’ll find you, and when I do, I’m going to fuck that cocky little attitude right out of you.” 

It makes Nova feel fluttery, weak, like willing prey—but she doesn’t show it. She clenches her jaw, rolling back her shoulders, pushing off the tree trunk. Din’s large—towering, all-consuming, especially in the armor—but she’s mighty. “I’d love to see you try.” 

She sneaks out under an opening in his arm, hurtling through his grasp. He’s quick, determined, but Novalise Djarin has all the power of Andromeda Maluev, and when caught off guard, Din is no match. She grins, fleeing back into the firelight, flushed and out of breath. When he reappears, Bo-Katan gives both of them a sickened look, but as Nova rejoins the stragglers, the remaining group of people gathered around the pyre, she catches a tiny smile in the corner of Bo-Katan’s mouth. 

“You disgust me.” 

“Hey, Bo-Katan,” Nova says, the words falling out of her mouth, colliding with Bo-Katan’s pride thinly disguised as annoyance, “I know it’s not the way of Mandalore, but will you be my maid of honor?” 

Bo-Katan’s mouth falls open, gaping. Grogu squeals from her lap. He looks gleefully between Nova and Bo-Katan, big bug eyes lit up as bright as the flames dancing in front of them. “I just insulted you.”

Nova shrugs, unfazed. “I’ve gotten used to it.” 

Bo-Katan studies her. “I thought—” Her voice catches, as if she’s suddenly unsure. “I thought you wanted me to be your officiant.” 

“I do,” Nova says, low and earnest. “But I want you to be my maid of honor, too. You don’t need to do anything else. Just a title. But an important one.” 

Bo-Katan blinks, and it’s like something softens. Not just around the edges, like how she usually does, but like she’s eschewing something cold and dark with it. “Yes,” she answers quietly. “Of course I will.” Her hand finds Nova’s, and she squeezes down hard. 

“Good.” Nova swallows the emotion bubbling up. “But I have another favor to ask first.” 

Bo-Katan sighs. “What is it?”

Hours later, after the pyre has burnt out, after the stars are in full shine, the moon hanging serenely across the celestial splashtop of Sorgan’s skies, the group has whittled back down to the Rebels and Mandalorians and Skywalkers. They’re gathered around the fire, sharing in the quiet of the night, watching as the smoke trails back up into the heavens. Nova can feel the weight of missing Cara, the heaviness of it, but it feels like something has shifted back into place. The grief, while still lodged in the pit of her stomach, isn’t a knot anymore—it just exists, constant and tumbling.

“She would have liked this,” Din murmurs finally, breaking the silence. “I know…I know she’d hate that we were still here, instead of fighting the next enemy, but Cara would have loved this.” His voice is rough, and Nova’s hand finds his gloved one, lacking her fingers through his. No one needs to speak their assent out loud, though, because they’re all in agreement. Cara would have loved this. And Cara would be gearing right up for their next fight alongside them.

Luke and Leia exchange a look—knowing, with trepidation. Nova knows it immediately, because it clenches in her stomach, too, the part of her that’s connected to something deeper, but none of them speak it aloud. Danger is coming, yes, with darkness to follow, but there’s time. Whoever they are, however strong they’re standing, Mandalore is resolute, resounding. And its people—Mandalorians, Rebels, and Jedi alike—are standing tall, a multi-headed animal, ready to beat it all back. 

“What are you thinking, rebel girl?” Wedge calls across the clearing. He’s right next to Luke—his orange clad thigh flush against Luke’s black pants—and Nova bites back a smile at the two of them, still orbiting each other, after all this time.

“I’m thinking,” Nova says, “that I know what comes next.” 

Fennec raises a sharp eyebrow. Leia takes a half-step forward. Boba’s face hasn’t changed, but his stature stiffens. Bo-Katan is flashing a rare, smug smile. Nova doesn't need to look at her to prove it. It hangs in the air. 

“I think we need something joyful before the war calls us back,” Nova says, trying and failing to stifle her own grin. “Din and I are having a wedding. A real one. On Naator, in five days. Please join us.”

Grogu squeals. Wedge’s smile is so brilliant, it could light up the entire forest. Leia’s eyes shine with sadness and excitement. Luke looks thrilled. Karga, who’s been standing in the background, gives a jovial laugh and clap, shaking the ground. Even Boba and Fennec are smiling. 

“Good call,” Wedge says, coming over to embrace both of them, tears shining in the back of his eyes. “We need something more than all this darkness.” And even now, even after all the death and loss and grief, he’s right.

Everyone makes their way to their ships long after the fire has gone cold. Luke and Leia leave in the Falcon, but not before they pull Nova into a bone-crushing hug. “We’ll come,” she promises. “We’ll be there. Five days.” They take off first, that iconic blue blaze shooting through the sky, and then they’re gone.

Boba and Fennec are already in Slave I. Karga is buckled up somewhere in the backseat. Koska is long asleep. Bo-Katan stands outside of the gangplank, arms still wrapped around Grogu. “You trust me with him?” 

Nova nods. “There’s no one else I trust more.” 

Din scoffs behind her, but Nova can hear the joke in it. Bo-Katan fixes him with a sour look. “Five days is a long time to keep him entertained. Or fed. Mandalore doesn't have frogs, Novalise.” 

“That is,” Din sighs, “for the best.” He leans over, plucking Grogu out of Bo-Katan’s lithe arms. “You be good,” he warns, waggling a gloved finger in Grogu’s face. “No crimes. Your aunt isn’t as forgiving as we are. She’ll put you to work.” 

Bo-Katan’s face holds the shine of pride. “I mean it, kid. There are rules you have to follow on Mandalore.” 

Grogu makes an affronted noise, and Nova leans down to press a kiss to his soft, warm, green forehead. He reaches out a three-fingered hand to her temple, and Nova pulls away before it’s fully realized. Just flashes. Not urgent ones, nothing dangerous. The good kind, the sweet blips of life she wants to live in forever. When Slave I finally pulls away, the excitement, running wild through Nova’s veins, returns with a vengeance. She turns to face Din, heart thumping quicker and quicker, flame running rampant through her body. 

“So.” 

Din doesn’t say anything, just watches her intently. 

“How much of a head start are you giving me?”

He steps forward. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Nova narrows her eyes, smile spreading slow and steady across her face. “You really think you’re gonna win, don’t you?”

Din studies her carefully, dark eyes sparking up with lust, with hunger, and Nova lets herself be pinned under his stare. “I told you once there’s no place you could hide from me. I know you, cyar’ika.”

At this, Nova moves forward, one step closer to his entire armored body. It reminds her so much of the first time they met, back before she knew the man under the Mandalorian, back before she had fallen in love, when her life was darker and sporadic and hidden. Even without all the beskar, Din makes her utterly shine. Nova’s never felt anything like his gravitational pull. And when she’s here, magnetic, stuck to it, she can’t remember anything before it. 

“And I know you, Mandalorian, she whispers, voice charged. “I know where you’d go. I know your habits. I know which dark alleys you go down. I know the way you feel when I’m a million parsecs away. Don’t be so sure you’re going to win.”

Din’s on her in a flash, body colliding with Nova’s. It makes her stagger backward, lost in the sheer magnitude of his body, his grip, his face, his mouth slotted against her own. She doesn’t have time to inhale before he’s sucking the very air from her lungs, piercing something deep down inside of her that hasn’t belonged to her in years. She’s caught herself in this endless, voracious love. It keeps her steady even as it invades her. Nova’s dizzy on it, even now, even after all this time. 

When he pulls away, Nova leans into it, both of them stumbling, drunk on it. The thrill of it keeps shooting through Nova’s stomach, pink lipstick staining Din’s mouth. “We’re going now,” he says roughly, pulling her towards Kicker.

Nova yelps as she’s dragged behind, running for a few steps until she’s steady on her feet, Din’s hand clenched around hers, vicelike and determined. “Why?”

He stops. Nova doesn’t. The momentum sends her sailing towards Kicker’s outer structure, reinforced in bright orange paint that blares out even in total darkness. She careens into the wall, but Din catches her, the centrifugal force of his body keeping her in place. The cold metal of Kicker presses against Nova’s hot neck, and she gasps until Din’s mouth is hovering an inch away from hers again. Every cell in her body is so, so alive. 

“Because if we don’t leave right now,” he says, his voice low and gravelly and dangerous, “I will not let you go. I will keep you here until I’ve fucked the fight out of both of us, and we will miss our own wedding. Get on the ship, Novalise.”

Nova falls into the gravity, over and over, stars exploding in the back of her eyes. She can’t get her feet to kick up and move until the weight of Din’s words settle into her veins like fire, and then she’s moving, running up the ladder, igniting Kicker back to life, and setting course for the Mid Rim.

*

It feels like magic to be back in Kicker. Din is strapped into the copilot’s seat. Nova could put her ship into autopilot, but she knows she needs the distraction. If she didn’t hold tight to the controls with both of her hands, they would be all over Din, and she’d forget to put the nav system on, and they’d outshoot the Mid Rim by parsecs entirely. And, besides, even if she wasn’t actively trying to keep herself distracted, Nova wants to hold Kicker up in the skies again. She’s beautiful, an entire disaster, this ship. Lovingly, Nova runs her hands over the dashboard, the control, everything that she missed when Kicker was grounded. 

Home may now be on Mandalore, but there’s home here, too. Nova watches over Din in the pilot seat, helmetless and beautiful, catching a rare moment of deep sleep. His mouth is parted slightly. She can see his tongue in the cavern of his mouth. His eyelashes flutter every once in a while, like he’s caught in the netting of a dream. He’s strapped in, pieces of armor discarded across the pathway up to the hull, and Nova watches him as the ship hurtles through hyperspace. 

She traces the tips of her fingers over the controls, worn down from years of use. Kicker belonged to someone else before it was hers, years and years of love written into a starfighter that was made for war. The last X-Wing she had, she had crashed unceremoniously to the surface of Nevarro. It was dilapidated and ran into the ground long before that became its final resting place. She’d grown up in the cockpits of X-Wings, of Rebel starfighters on the base, and Nova could fly one in her sleep. She flew one half in death. It’s familiar, always—that blueprint, the shape of it—but Kicker feels like hers, unequivocally.

Smiling, Nova settles into her seat, bringing her knee up close to her chest. She watches, silently, as Din inhales and exhales, remembering the time he took her to Kashyyyk and tried to get Nova to shoot him out of the sky. It was glorious, the thrill of it, being back in a starfighter again, letting muscle memory take over. Nova relives it, the whole day, down to her bones. How sure Din was that he was going to win. How hard he was when she did indeed shoot him out of the sky.

“What are you smiling about?” 

Nova blinks, startled out of her reverie. But that slow, easy smile spreads itself back across her face as she looks over at Din, sleepy-eyed and gravelly-voiced. “How certain you were that you could evade me on Kashyyyk.”

“And you shot the Crest down,’” Din says, the same grin reciprocated on his face. “Like it was nothing.” 

Nova tucks a lock of rogue hair behind her ear. Din watches her carefully, tracing her every move. “I could do that in my sleep,” she taunts, lowering her voice to something huskier and addicting. “You better be prepared for a fair fight, Din Djarin.” 

Din’s eyes flash. He leans in closer. “Oh, Novalise,” he sighs, skating his gloved fingers over her thigh, “I didn’t want to evade you. That was just the lie I told you so I could get to fucking you quicker.”

Nova narrows her eyes, trying to keep composure. Her heart is knocking up a storm on the left side of her chest. “You better be prepared to concede in the possibility that I win.” 

Din shifts, moving his face closer and closer to Nova’s. She can’t hear anything but the thrush of blood pumping through her veins. It’s dizzying, being this close to him again, with the promise of electricity in the place of sheer anger. It’s making her drunk. She inhales, carefully, to try to steady herself. 

Din moves his hand up higher on Nova’s thigh. Novalise is unable to steady herself. He tips in closer to her, lips hovering an inch over her ear, and chills explode down her spine. “You might be able to keep me at bay, Novalise,” he breathes, “but you haven’t seen me stalking my prey.”

Nova gulps. “You think I’m your prey?”

Din nods. Nova can hear the rustle of his movement, relishing on his hot breath on the side of his neck. “I’m a bounty hunter, cyar’ika,” he simpers, sickly sweet, “it’s what I do.”

“I,” Nova levels, voice a hell of a lot steadier than she feels right now, “am reigning Mand’alor, Jedi in training, Rebel royalty, and Her Highness Pilotess of the Outer Rim. You may be the bounty hunter, Mandalorian, but I’ve got power. This is going to be a fair fight.” 

“Oh, Nova,” Din sighs, sliding his hand up her waist, her arm, to her neck, fingers closing so gently around her throat, light and restrained. “I don’t want to fight you. I want to fuck you. And even when I give you a head start, that’s all I’m going to think about. I will chase you down across Naator, I will find you, and then I will destroy you in every way you’ve been begging for.” 

Nova gulps.

“You asked me,” Din whispers, licking a line up the right side of Nova’s neck, “back in our bedroom, if I wanted to hunt you. I told you that when I wanted to hunt you, you’d know.” He quiets for a moment, and then his grip tightens. Everything inside of Nova unhinges. She can feel the warmth coursing through her body, threatening to flood out from between her legs, but she holds on, refusing to give into another orgasm before she can give it to him, too. “Do you know now, cyar’ika?”

Kicker crashes out of the sky.

As usual, it’s a bit of a rocky landing. Nova grins as Kicker punches on the way down. Even under her expert grip, the ship still puts up a fight. It’s greedy, like it can’t be grounded fast enough. She’s strangely proud of it, the way Kicker misbehaves. That even the star mechanic on Tatooine couldn’t wrangle her beloved ornery X-Wing into place. Kicker’s a Rebel, too.

The descent to the planet’s surface has Nova’s adrenaline back up. Both of them slept through the night, or at least as much of the night as they could. It’s dawn on Naator, and the usually faded pink sky is nearly magenta. It casts the planet’s atmosphere into a hazy glow, hanging over Nova, Din, and Kicker. It’s invigorating, the sweetness of the air, the yellow leaves dancing down from the perennial trees. They cover the ground in swathes, shining golden in the sky’s bright light. Nova swallows as she looks around, heart wanting wistfully to just stay here, at the little cabin they have to call home someday, get in bed with Din, and not get out. 

But that’s not why they’re here.

When Din follows Nova down the ladder and onto Naator’s beautiful surface, she can feel him. The hair on the back of her neck stands up in equal parts electricity and longing. Nova doesn’t need the helmet to track him, to know where Din goes, to categorize his every movement. For a regular bounty, sure, they’re hunted, stalked like prey. But as much as Nova might want to be, she knows that she has something Din doesn’t, even with all of his fancy technology—the Force. That’s all hers. She swallows, turning around to face him. 

He’s fully outfitted in armor. Nova has to actively try to keep her breathing steady, and when he cocks his head at her, Nova knows he sees it. Din doesn’t say a single thing, just stares at her in silence, hanging onto her every movement, tracking her with eyes she cannot see. 

It feels, just for a second, a fraction of a moment, the same way that Din was when Nova first met him. Not Din Djarin, the man she knows and loves, the man who married her in the darkness of her X-wing, the man who wants to remarry her here, the man who showed her his face, the man who broke his Creed for her, the man who loves her—the Mandalorian. A myth, maybe, a legend, definitely. The top bounty hunter in Nevarro’s Guild, respected and feared across all of the Outer Rim. And he’s here, standing in front of her, with a vow to hunt her, find her, and catch her. 

It’s thrilling. It’s terrifying. Nova wants him so badly she can’t breathe.

“What are you thinking about?” 

You, Nova wants to scream, but she doesn’t. Instead, she raises her chin. “Ground rules,” she says instead, and Din moves enough for her to know he’s processing it. “You have a whole suit of fancy armor, with built in tracking technology. I have my own wits.”

“You have the Force,” Din counters, and Nova grins. “You can sense every living thing, me included. No suit of armor or operating technology is any match for that. No deal.”

“You do think that you might not have the upper hand.” 

“I think,” Din says slowly, moving closer to where her feet are rooted to the ground, “that you’re a good match for me. I didn’t say I think you’re going to win.”

Nova sighs. “What else?”

Din’s silent for a moment, but when he speaks, it’s slightly more gravelly than it was before. “No ships.” 

A knowing smile spreads across Nova’s face. “You don’t think I’m going to really run, do you?”

“No,” Din enunciates, “but I also where my strengths are, and with only one ship between the two of us, a ship that seems to only listen to you, you’d obliterate me before the twenty-four hours are up.”

Nova raises an eyebrow. Din cocks his head. “So, this twenty-four hours. Is that including my head start?” 

Din nods. “I’ll wait for three. I’ll stay at the cabin. I won’t follow you. I won’t know what direction you’re heading in.”

“So you’re not going to have the full twenty-four hours to find me?” 

Nova can’t see Din’s face, but she can hear the cocky grin in his voice through the modulator. “I don’t need the full twenty-four hours.”

“I say,” Nova proposes, closing the distance between them, shoe dragging through the canopy of yellow leaves on the ground, “that when I win, you’ll have to fuck me on my throne.”

She can hear Din swallow. It’s audible, even through the vocoder. She bites down on her bottom lip, and he sighs, long and languid. “Whatever my Mand’alor wants.” 

“Your Mand’alor is going to run from you now,” Nova says sweetly, reaching up to stroke Din’s helmeted cheek. “And when she wins, you’ll be eating your words.” 

“One more thing,” Din says, hand flying up to capture Nova’s wrist, keeping it anchored against where it’s pressing against his helmet. “Keep your comm on. I deactivated the tracker linked to mine and the honing beacon in Kicker. But I want you to be able to call me. If you need to.” 

Nova narrows her eyes. “You’re not lying about disconnecting them, right?”

Even hidden under the helmet, Din looks affronted. “I’m not a cheater. Even when I’m hunting down a bounty, I fight fair.”

“Comm on,” Nova repeats, stroking her thumb over where his cheekbone would be. “You got it.”

“If there’s trouble,” Din warns, his voice dropping in volume and tone, “you hail me. Immediately. If you have a vision of Sparmau—or whoever’s not Sparmau. If Ezra…pops into your reality. If someone from the First Order shows up. If—”

“Din.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned my lesson,” Nova whispers, willing his covered eyes to meet hers. “I’m not going to try and fight an entire war on my own anymore. If something bad happens, I’ll let you know. I know my word doesn’t…mean as much anymore, but I swear to you on every single star above that I will call you.” 

Din doesn’t speak for a moment. When he does, the words hold volumes. “I’m believing you.”

Nova leans forward to press her lips over where the outline of Din’s mouth should be. He releases her wrist, he moves forward to hold her for a fraction of a second, and then he’s letting her go. He moves away first, heading into the tiny cottage, locking the door behind him, drawing all the curtains. Nova watches him disappear as panic sets in. 

“Shit,” she mumbles under her breath, “Where do I go?” 

The entire trip there, all Nova was thinking about was the aftermath. Her and Din colliding, over and over, celestial and eternal. The way he’d feel inside of her after weeks that have felt like centuries apart, and maybe, just maybe, his forgiveness in the hollow of her mouth. She didn’t think for a second about a game plan, where she’d go. Even when she was teasing Din about evading him, about winning, she wasn’t scheming. She looks forlornly at Kicker, like maybe her stubborn starfighter will give her a suggestion, or maybe a wish that she could jump back on and get in the sky, but Nova’s not a cheater either. She could just sit out here, in the wide open, and wait for Din’s three hours to be up, but she’d never hear the end of it. 

With one last look at Kicker and the cottage, Nova turns on her heel. The pinkness of the sky has reduced in intensity, but it’s still morning. She wants to head back into the trees where she and Din walked together when they were first here, but that would be a dead giveaway. Din said he could find her in death. He could easily find her lost in a memory.

Instead, Nova turns in the other direction. There’s a vast field of wildflowers, some of them sprouting up to the height of trees, and she decides that’s the best place to go. The cottage is hidden by the trees and the yellow leaves, but beyond the forest, there’s nowhere else to go. Just miles of rolling fields until the mountains gather up into tall peaks in the distance. 

As she moves through the first line of flowers, the smell of them floats up to greet her. Nova forces herself to keep pushing, keep moving, because if the scent of forsythias and freesia and lilies wasn’t distracting enough, the breeze that tickles the petals as it passes makes her feel like peace is possible here. 

“You know,” Nova whispers to herself, “maybe the First Order and whoever Sparmau warned me about wouldn’t be so keen to kill me if they just came to Naator.” A breeze tousles the flowers as she moves through them, deeper and deeper into the tangles of stems and trunks, and Nova giggles. It’s impossible to imagine Sparmau relaxed. She’s only met Ben Solo as a scowling, sharp-eyed kid, but from the premonitions and visions she’s seen of him as Kylo Ren, she can’t imagine him relaxed either. Gideon, before he got the Darksaber plunged through his chest by Bo-Katan herself, was the opposite of relaxed. Strangely calm, sometimes, but with a raging temper and evil calamity. 

But, Nova muses, moving thicker and thicker into the field of wildflowers, Bo-Katan might have a lovely vacation here someday. If Nova could ever convince her to leave Mandalore for longer than a mission. Bo-Katan would be forced to enjoy the wildflowers and the scent of them in the wind. Bo-Katan would begrudgingly trek through the yellow leaves alongside Nova and Grogu if she asked really nicely. Bo-Katan would, at the very least, love the sunset against the pink sky, seeing the whole world lit up in something other than Mandalore blue. 

Nova doesn’t pay much attention to the thinning of the flowers until she’s on the other side. One second, she’s thigh-deep in stems, the next, she’s stepping onto a grassy knoll. Startled, she trips over herself, and when she looks up, she’s on the other side. 

“Oh no,” Nova says, heart sinking, realizing her mistake. Behind her is the very clear and determined path of where someone trudged and tramped through an entire field of flowers. She sighs, squinting up at the sun. “I may have been talking a big game for someone who’s good at running, but  never actually succeeded at staying hidden.” 

And then, right on cue, as if the universe plucked Novalise from a star and chose to grant her one wish, the same breeze that carried the flowers through the air rips across the knoll, over the plains, and through the field, disguising the fact that anyone had been there at all. 

Nova blinks. 

“Well,” she says, out loud, “thank you, Naator.” 

She keeps moving.

*

Three hours later, Nova’s made it through the field of wildflowers, over the bigger plains, and is at the base of the mountain. She stops, exhausted, taking a swig of the water strapped to her back, trying to catch her breath. The comm crackles to life as she perches on a boulder, and she lets out a small yelp, looking behind her to ensure Din isn’t there already. 

“You far away?”

Nova smiles. “Not telling you.” 

The telltale chuckle through the modulator sends Nova’s stomach reeling yet again. “Good girl.”

“The jury’s still out on that one,” Nova says, taking another sip of water. She’s under the treeline, barely hidden by the brush and fallen leaves. The forest over here isn’t encased in yellow—they’re big, sprawling willows with leaves shaped like teardrops. A breeze, the same one that rippled through the field, spurs her on, encouraging her to keep going. “Where are you?”

“On your trail.”

Nova makes sure the comm falls flat, looking around for anything significant enough to hear across the line. There’s a tiny stream that runs through the rocks, but it’s nothing significant, nothing loud enough for her to hear. Songbirds swoop up through the trees and across rosy skies, but their chirps can be heard here and the forest near their cottage, so Nova doesn’t think they’re  a dead giveaway. She’s not wearing her usual boots with their telltale tracks, either—the ones she brought to Sorgan are sleeker, the bottom less detailed. “Your three hours were just up,” she says, checking the tiny watch built into the comm on her wrist, “two minutes ago. You can’t be on my trail yet.” 

She can hear the smile in Din’s voice. “Can’t I?”

“You can’t get into my head, Mandalorian.” 

Din sighs, low and charged. “No,” he concedes, “just other things.” 

Nova hops off the rock. “I’m running again.” 

“Okay, cyar’ika,” Din says, voice dropping, “I’ll see you soon.” 

Equal parts scared and thrilled, Nova jumps to her feet, leaving the rock behind. She loves the water, so she’s tempted to follow Naator’s tiny babbling brook wherever it leads, but she knows Din will clock that from klicks away. So she keeps moving deeper into the forest, keeping track as the weeping willows transform into thicker, deeper oaks, ones similar to the woods on Kashyyyk. At the top of the mountains that surround the area, ice juts like skyscrapers into the sky, but right here, the weather is temperate. Warm enough to not need a jacket, but the breeze is tinged with the feeling of fall. It might be the only planet in the Mid Rim that actually has seasons. 

Deeper and deeper she goes, careful not to step into any mud or make dents on mossy grasses to indicate she’s going this way. She had stretched the truth for Din a little earlier—Nova did indeed once go into the forest and send the whole base on her tracks when she lived on Yavin, but she wasn’t right at the treeline. She had followed a butterfly into the forest, one that glowed violet like the bioluminescent flowers that lined the trees, and she got so entrenched in the woods that she couldn’t even remember which way she came from. 

“Nova.”

Nova whirls around, hand on the lightsaber hanging from her waist, ready to ignite the yellow blade, but there’s nothing there. No person. No vision. No Din speaking to her via comm. She blinks, turning around and around, making sure there’s nothing lurking in the trees, but Naator stays as silent and serene as ever. She sheathes the lightsaber back into her belt, moving deeper and deeper into the tangled forest, trying to shake the sound of her name free. 

She’s lost track of time when she reaches the clearing. It’s a perfect circle, carved into a thick ring of trees. If she hadn’t stumbled straight into it, Nova would never have known it existed. Grass and flowers grow in the middle, and when Nova peeks out at the pink sky, the sun is high. Orange and nearly iridescent, it hides behind clouds, changing the green interior of the forest into something much warmer. It’s beautiful. It looks almost like it’s been carved from a memory, one Nova knows exists but is obscured by something else entirely. 

Carefully, gingerly, Nova steps forward. 

“Novalise.” 

Again, she whirls around, this time the lightsaber flying out of its pouch and into her outstretched hand like a reflex, and again, there’s nothing there. No birds, no forest creatures, no light on her comm, no visions in her head. 

“I’m going crazy,” Nova whispers, and for the first time since she got here, to this beautiful safe haven that feels like home, she can feel the darkness creeping up her spine. It infiltrates, hissing and licking as it grips her tighter, luring her back into fear. “Am I going crazy?” she asks, a little louder, talking to Naator itself. This planet feels sentient in a way that humanity doesn’t. It pulls her back from the edge. 

“Nova.” 

This time, it comes from the comm. Nova swallows, falling relieved into the patch of green grass. The salmon skies sing warmth across her skin. “Having trouble finding me, Mandalorian?” 

“Never.” 

Nova smiles, wanting to lay down here in this patch of grass and flowers, and sleep some of her trek away. And then, as the warmth of the meadow cals to her, threatening to caress her into dreamland entirely, she jolts awake. Din’s voice sounds weird.

“Din,” she says slowly, “where are you?”

“Like I’d tell you,” he says, but he sounds muffled. Like he’s standing near something…rushing. Not a waterfall. Naator doesn’t have waterfalls. It doesn’t have an ocean, or a river, or anything bigger than the stream she walked by a few hours back. Nova’s eyes dart back and forth, trying to put her finger on it. A really strong wind? Laying close to the brook to distort his voice?

And then it hits her. Din isn’t at a waterfall. Din is in his full suit of armor, made of Mandalorian beskar and steel, and included in that impenetrable fortress is his jetpack. 

“Hey!” Nova yells, scrambling off the grass, raking through it with her fingers to obscure any trace of her being there, running back under the canopy of the forest, “you said no flying!”

Din laughs, and it still sounds like a miracle, even when it’s muffled by the rush of the air. Nova’s still panicked at the knowledge that he’s airborne, but she can’t fight the smile off of her face either. “I said no ships,” Din clarifies, and Nova darts through trees and brush and rocks to get deeper and deeper into the forest. “If you’d worn your Mandalorian armor, you could be flying, too.” 

“This isn’t fighting fair,” Nova whispers, trying to keep her voice level. Din was right. He probably could have given her a full twelve hour head start and still be right on her tracks the second he started. She’s crashing through the underbrush, not focused on anything in particular except staying hidden. “Low blow.” 

“You could just let me catch you.” 

Nova blows the hair out of her eyes. It’s knotted in a braid that hangs down her back, but the curls that frame her face fell out somewhere back before the forest. “You should know by now,” she says, vaulting over a boulder, “that I don’t give up that easily.” 

“C’mon, sweet girl,” Din croons through the modulator, and it takes all of the strength in Nova’s body to not turn around and catapult back into his arms, “you know you want to.”

“I’ve waited this long,” Nova manages, through gritted teeth, “I can wait a little more.” 

The whoosh of flying through air halts, and Nova keeps moving, refusing to be distracted by it. Carefully, she looks upward, scanning the sky through the trees, but she doesn’t see her Mandalorian in beskar, no pink light glinting off the silver. “Are you sure?”

“Do you play with all of your bounties like this?” Nova asks, moving deeper into the mossy brush, landing on her toes to hide full footprints. 

“I’ve never needed to,” Din answers. “They don’t want me to catch them. You, on the other hand…”

“Goodbye,” Nova sings into the comm, undeterred and melodic. She powers it down, smiling, trying to get her racing heart to settle down. Without Din’s voice invading her rational mind, it’s much easier to think. She does so easily and effortlessly, clearing her head like she does when she’s using the Force—letting everything run out of her backward. 

She’s not anywhere she recognizes. She knows that when she darted back into the forest, away from the familiar circular meadow, she was heading toward the base of one of the mountains. By the way the sun’s hanging in the sky, Nova can calculate that she’s been running for about five hours. Maybe six. She’s starving, and she didn’t think to bring food with her. Scanning the forest floor, the moss jumps up at her again. Beyond the moss, there are tiny violets swaying in the breeze that never seems to hold still, and beyond the flowers, there are ferns. 

“Thank you,” Nova exhales, extending her gratitude to Naator itself, thankful that the planet’s seasons gave her a time where the fiddleheads are crisp and edible. She rushes over, plucking them from the fern’s tip, foraging until she has enough to fill her hands. The stream seems to wind out of nowhere, and Nova settles in at the tiny river’s edge, plunging her cupped hands underwater. It runs clear and beautiful, and all the dirt and debris from the forest floor runs downstream. It would be better if she could crisp them up over the fire, but she doesn't want to risk it. Smoke is a dead giveaway for anyone, let alone for a bounty hunter as experienced as Din.

For a minute, Nova just sits. Her legs are still banged up from the fight against Sparmau. Under the grey clothes she wears, leftovers from the funeral, the bruises mottle against her brown skin. They’re a strange, haunting reminder about all of it. The way they still ache, even now. The entire ordeal only took place over a week ago, and when Sparmau kidnapped Din and Bo-Katan, it was only a month before that. So much loss and devastation in such a short span of time—Sparmau’s wrath, losing Cara, letting her friends back in, seeing Ezra for the first time, getting her Kyber crystal and lightsaber, killing Sparmau, getting Din and Bo-Katan back, accidentally becoming the Mand’alor. Nova downs the last fiddlehead, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. The exhaustion seeps back in, replacing adrenaline and excitement. She could fall asleep right here. Orange sunlight streams through the cracks in the trees, and Nova yawns as she uncovers her eyes, letting everything filter back in.

A butterfly flutters above. 

Nova looks at it once, twice, and then she’s hauling herself to her feet. It looks exactly like the one she followed into the wild back on Yavin, back when she was still Andromeda, back when she was still a kid. Bioluminescent and violet-blue, the hue electric against the warmth of Naator. She stares up at it. 

“What are you doing here?” Nova breathes. The butterfly flutters down and encircles her head. Nova can’t tear her eyes away. It’s everything she remembers it to be—ethereal, not of this world. It gives her the same holy feeling that the Jedi Temple did, the cave on Ilum, the cathedral back on Jedha. She lifts her fingers up to the butterfly, coaxing it down against her skin. Novalise rephrases ehr earlier question. “What are you?”

The butterfly doesn’t respond. It does land in the outstretched palm of her hand, though. Nova feels warmth, then nothing at all. It flaps its wings at her, lazily, gently, and then it’s taking off, moving up and down across the tree cover, and Nova abandons all reason. She follows it. 

There’s no guarantee that she’s being led in the right direction. It might, in fact, be the same path that she made to get here, and this beautiful creature might be leading her right back into Din’s grasp, but Nova finds it incredibly difficult to muster up the energy to care. It doesn’t matter. The hunt, running from Din in the first place—what was she thinking? Nova abandons all reason, all feeling that she should try to stay hidden. She doesn’t want to run away. She wants to run right into his arms.

The butterfly flaps its wings harder and harder, an electric shock of color. Nova bounds over small rocks and mini mountains of moss, getting led somewhere she’s never been. Not back to the meadow. Not back to the cabin. Somewhere else entirely, the sprawl of Naator both familiar and foreign. her surrounding blur around her as Nova follows the butterfly. It drifts higher and higher, and she climbs over fallen trees and unfamiliar terrain and what could be graves, but everything is obscured in comparison to the butterfly. It flies higher and higher, eclipsing her vision, until Nova stops, whirling around and around, trying to catch sight of it again. 

“No,” she whispers, turning again in desperation, and when the butterfly flits beyond the canopy of the willow and pine trees, Nova’s forced to look back down and realize where she is. 

She blinks. Once, twice, three times, trying to clear her vision. 

“Novalise.” 

Nova turns around again, but she knows it’s useless. It’s the trees singing to her, the flowers whispering a lullaby, her own imagination. Besides the gatherings of villages on the flat surface of the planet, Naator is empty. It’s just her and this planet and the man she loves chasing after her. But this time, it’s coming from somewhere she can pinpoint. 

Hand on her belt where the lightsaber and Darksaber hang, Nova moves forward, stepping gingerly across the uneven forest floor. There’s an open mouth of a cave, the gaping maw of grey rock and granite. It seems to have come out of nowhere. Nova forges forward, toward the open, jagged O hanging open, inviting her in. 

“Novalise.” 

Nova pushes forward. She forgets about the butterfly, of Din right on her tracks, of the time. She forges on, moving into the cave, toward what she thinks is the sound of the call. This isn’t a coincidence. It can’t be a coincidence. 

She doesn’t believe in coincidences. 

The cave calls to her. Like the crystal cavern on Ilum, like the cathedral on Jedha. She swallows, moving carefully across mossy rock, trying to keep moving. There’s a thrumming coming from the center. She can feel it—not hear it—feel it, like it’s coursing through her veins, consuming her very soul. Deeper and deeper she descends, slipping over damp rocks, not caring that it’s soaking through her thin clothes. It’s freezing in here, but the air doesn’t seem to be touching her. 

“Novalise.” 

Nova moves quicker. Desperate, searching. She can’t put her finger on the voice. It sounds so familiar, so unbelievably distant. She wants to get inside it, feel its warmth. 

Her name. A chant, three times. The beacon of it, calling her home. 

She gets to the middle of it all. In the middle of the cave is a gilded intricate mirror. Nova stares. Her reflection stares back. The overwhelming feeling of deja vu settles in her bones, thumping in her heart. She’s been in this moment before. She’s had this vision. She’s come alive in this dream. She looks like herself—brown skin, pink lips, green eyes—but there’s something wizened and melancholic about her expression. And then it shifts, and her smile lines lessen, her eyebrows unfurling, her teeth gleaming. Nova sees herself—Andromeda, Jedi, Rebel, Novalise, Mandalorian, Saint. All her identities, all out of order. 

Nova swallows, lifting her fingers to the mirror. Immediately, she’s vaulted somewhere else—a memory, maybe, or something yet to come. She’s looking at herself from outside her body. There’s Nova, on the floor of the ship she escaped Coruscant on. Laughing with Bo-Katan in the fortress of her bed. Flying an X-Wing that she couldn’t quite reach the controls of. Sitting on the beskar throne. Holding Grogu in her lap and floating him his little silver ball. Kissing Din for the first time, obscured entirely in the dark. Getting left on Dantooine. Mapmaking with her mother. Singing karaoke on the Rebel base. Getting fucked in the Razor Crest. The festival she stumbled into on Balnab. Meeting Luke. Walking through the halls of the base on Hoth with Wedge. Seeing Din’s face for the first time. Looking at herself with grey in her hair, still hanging in ringlets down her back. Slashing her yellow lightsaber through the pouring rain. Dancing in a circle with Wedge. The heat of Tatooine’s double suns. Smelling the meadows on Naboo. Unearthing languages with her father. Defeating Sparmau. Blue lightning. Sinister laughter. A hand reaching through the veil and pulling Nova through reality. Laying with Din in the wildflower meadow, half-clothed with purple twilight settling in around them. The scratch of his beard on her neck. The permabruise of his fingers clenched around her thighs. The grip of his arms around the small of her back. Safety and surety and a place to call home. Her own reflection in this same mirror, like a piece of her was here from the beginning of time, like a part of her will be there at the end. Din’s lips on her neck. Her heart meeting something more. Her body feeling something deeper. Her soul being something holy. 

Novalise is vaulted out of her reverie. Like she’s being resuscitated, she can hear Din’s voice flooding back in, the evergreen breeze, the scent of flowers, the warmth of the breeze. Nova blinks, and there’s no mirror in the cave. Just a hole where she projected herself, and brutal, stunning clarity.

Like a woman possessed, Nova hurtles back out of the cave. She’s careful but quick, planting her feet on dry patches, reaching up towards the light. The second she hits the air above, Din’s voice blares. 

“Oh, Novalise.” 

Nova’s heart is pounding. The butterfly—imaginative or real, it didn’t matter—was a distraction. She has no idea how long she got lost in the cave, but when she comes back out, the filtered, slightly sepia tone of the forest is hanging in dusk. She gulps. “Yes, Din?” 

“I see you.” 

Nova’s heart stops. 

“No, you don’t.” She leaves no question in her tone, but she knows he’s not lying. As quietly and nimbly as she can, Nova slips between foliage, running and moving with her heart pounding arrhythmic in her chest. She’s fast. The exhaustion that pressed her down to the earth earlier is gone, replaced by the spark that her own reflection gave her. 

Behind her, incredibly, unbelievably, Nova hears a twig snap. A yelp rises in her throat, seeing a flash of silver in the corner of her eye. She panics, jumping over a small ridge. She gulps on the way down, crossing her fingers, letting the Force guide her way to the ground. Running is what she built so much of her life on, and even though Nova has learned how not to fall victim to her first instinct, it still comes to life in her marrow when she needs it. And right now, she needs it. Behind the wall, there’s a small opening between boulders. Against the tree is a fallen log. Her eyes oscillate between the two, trying to make a split second decision. She can’t hear Din anymore, but she can feel him, residual, haunting, present. She dives for the tree, barely making it around the corner before a suit of silver beskar materializes out of nowhere. Quickly, silently, Nova slams her hand against the comm, the blinking red light disappearing from view. She holds her breath, willing her heartbeat to steady itself, for everything to quiet. 

“Where are you?” Din asks, smug like he already knows, and a pool of warmth rushes through Nova’s stomach at the sound of his voice, modulated and gorgeous. It’s gravelly with want. She could hurl herself at him right now, at this very moment, and all of the need pent up inside of her would be gone. They could destroy this patch of forest and no one could hear a thing. “I can smell you, Novalise.” Another small twig snaps. “I want to make you come undone.”

Nova presses her thighs together as tight as they’ll go. 

“Come out, come out,” Din croons, voice low, “wherever you are.” 

Nova squeezes her eyes shut. She can feel him getting closer, the vibrato of his breath through the modulator. 

“You want to be hunted,” Din continues. “I know you love the chase. But you love getting to cum more, don’t you, my sweet girl? Come out of hiding.” 

Nova inhales a ragged breath, clamping her legs together. 

“I can’t promise I won’t ruin you,” he taunts, his voice closer and closer, “but I can promise you’ll be begging me for more.”

Nova mewls. Din’s head snaps in her direction. She can’t see him, not inside the hollow of the tree, but she knows the sound it makes. She wants to be found. She wants to be ruined. She has become the something holy that is begging to be desecrated. 

“I know,” Din simpers, and the tone of his voice is electric, inviting. Alluring. Tantalizing. Dragging her down deeper and deeper, until the rest of the world fades out. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide from me.”

Nova presses the comm back on. “I know,” she parrots, and Din steps backward at the sound of her voice so close, “I don’t scare easy.” 

She lifts her hand as much as her hiding spot will allow, closing her eyes, letting everything drain out of her backward, and makes a bush rustle in the distance. Din snaps to attention, darting after the sound. Nova feels her eyelids flutter, and she makes another tree rattle, sticks snapping, way off, back down the mountain. Silver beskar armor streaks up the hill, and then disappears entirely. Nova keeps making the planet bend to her will until she feels something snap from pure exhaustion, and she plasters both hands against the trunk of the tree, bracing herself. Her breath is ragged, uncertain, and when she collapses to the ground, there’s a smile on her face. 

Nova stays there, on the serenity of the forest floor, for a long time. Twilight comes, and night dawns over the horizon, milky navy. Above her, visible only as a smattering under the tree cover, are stars. The energy she expended getting Din away from her—the physical exertion of it combined with the mental war of wanting him closer—returns, but by the time she sits back up, night has almost completely fallen. 

She checks her time. There’s only six more hours until sunup. She’s evaded Din—with a very close call—through eighteen hours. A bunch of them were swallowed by the cave, although it only felt like minutes. She has six more, and she wins. 

Carefully, Nova pushes herself to her feet, breathing in the smell of the soil and water that runs like veins through Naator’s gorgeous earth. She’s exhausted, and she’s also exhausted all her options. She has no idea where she is. She has even less of an idea where to go next. 

And then, all at once, it hits her, colliding like a shooting star.

Din thinks she’s running from him. Din thinks that she’s heading down the mountain. Which means Din thinks that he’s still tracking her.

And Nova meant it when she said she was done running. He thinks she’s going back down the mountain. And she will be, but this time, she’s not going to be hunted. She’s going to do the thing he’s least expecting, the Mandalorian that she loves—she’s going to chase him right back. 

*

It’s much harder to navigate the mountain in the dark.

Nova’s used to rugged, tree-lined terrain, especially after growing up on Yavin, but Naator’s nature is blossoming, constantly shifting. If she hikes too far north, the temperature drops and the ground gets rougher. If she runs down the mountain, the moss springs up, plush and roving, and holds much more moisture. She grits her teeth, holding onto the brush for a better grip, trying to make it back down the hill she hiked up in a daze earlier. 

In the middle of the night, there’s still pink in the sky. It’s a very muted purple, but Naator’s nights don’t turn vantablack and obsidian like the other planets do. There’s still a resemblance of midnight, but it’s hazy around the edges, like the day has just been put on pause instead of turning over into night entirely.

Nova sighs. A yawn works its way out of her mouth before she can stifle it, and with her eyes closed, in the dark, her foot rolls over a fallen stick and she crashes to the ground. 

“Smooth,” she mutters to herself, blowing hair out of her eyes. She sits up, wincing, acutely aware of how quiet the night is around her. There’s the sound of the constant breeze, and the rustle of dancing trees, and the bugs and frogs that chirp, but other than that, there’s nothing. Just wide open air that Din is so trained for, the expert bounty hunter that he is. 

A twig snaps down the mountain and Nova’s heart stops.

“There’s no way,” she whispers, and immediately claps a hand over her mouth. Even that tiny omission, barely loud enough for her to hear alone, could be caught by the experienced bounty hunter immediately on her trail. Nova’s heart flip-flops as she waits in the silence, pounding out a staccato rhythm that only Din can evoke. She feels like prey, even though she’s flipped the script, even though she’s the one doing the hunting. 

She doesn’t move. Her heart pounds in her ears. Something bounds through the brush—something small, and decidedly not covered in beskar. She exhales, stepping so carefully across the forest floor. It’s hard, painstaking work, keeping this quiet, but she’s determined. It doesn’t matter if her bones ache. It doesn’t matter that she’s barely slept in two days. She knows what’s waiting for her at the bottom of this mountain, what she’s going home to. That’s enough adrenaline coursing through her body to keep her awake for days. 

“Novalise.” 

Nova stops. “You’re not making this easy on either of us,” she growls, too pent up to play the game anymore.

She can hear the smirk in Din’s voice. “Just tell me where you are, and this can all be over.”

“You came so close earlier,” she breathes, moving through the wistful willow trees, all twisted together. From the breeze, even at this distance, she can smell the flowers in the fields. “And you didn’t find me. So maybe it’s time to start admitting that I could beat you at your own game, Din Djarin.” 

Silence. 

Then: “What do you mean?” 

Nova swallows. She may have just let on a bit more than she intended to. “Think on it.” 

“Novalise—”

“See you soon,” she whispers, drawing the last syllable out, and then she turns off the comm. The night blinks on around her. Nova wrestles the giant smile off of her face. She stops, draining the last of the water she took from the stream earlier. She stretches, cracking her vertebrae all the way up her spine, rolling her neck side to side. What she needs to do next is get inside Din’s head. She’s nowhere near as strong of a tracker as he is, and even if she had worn her armor and her helmet, he’s had years of practice on her.

But Novalise is scrappy. And she also has the Force. 

At the base of the mountain, where the willows bleed into pines, Nova sinks down behind a boulder, right at the root of a giant tree. It hangs over her like protection, and she knows with the combination of the night and the leaves, she’s hidden in obscurity. She closes her eyes, rolling sore shoulders back, letting everything run out of her. 

It drained her, earlier, simulating her footsteps back down the mountain. She doesn’t feel as connected to the world around her. Nova pauses, focusing on her breath. In and out, even and steady. Din’s face keeps popping into her mind’s eye, but it’s not the version she needs. She can hear his flesh slapping against hers, feel the rumble of his moans in his throat. She knows the exact noise he makes when he’s coming undone. It’s distracting, spreading heat through her entire body. 

“Focus,” Nova breathes, but the only thing she can visualize is the way he cornered her in that cell in her dream. The hungry way his body crashed into hers, the way he made her repent. She shivers, but it has nothing to do with the air around her. Carefully, she sidesteps the memory, as visceral as it is, focusing on Naator and the space Din’s in. 

It comes to her in a blur, like her focus is shifting in and out. Nova blows out air, trying to find him in the ether. It’s not easy. She’s only ever explored around where the cottage is, there and the little village down the lane. All of the mountains are made up of the same flora and fauna, so the environment he’s in won’t be easy to identify. Nova shuts out the rest of the forest, trying to pinpoint his location. 

Just when she’s about to give up, give in, make herself known so that Din will come here and feed her hunger, Nova finds him. He’s sitting at the base of his own willow tree, helmet tipped up to drink water. Her heart skips a beat then stills, like it can’t make up its mind. Seeing him, covered in armor, unmasked only for her, on this planet—it’s the best kind of deja vu. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Nova lets out a tiny sigh. 

He’s so beautiful. It hurts to look at him, and hurts even worse when all she wants is to be right there beside him. To take the rest of his armor off. The need pulsing through her veins rivals her want to win. Hearing his voice is bad enough. Seeing him is even worse. 

Without thinking, Nova raises the comm to her lips, pushing down until it starts to blink. “Where are you?”

Din’s eyes dart around, and then he smirks into the night. “Why? Getting desperate?” 

Nova sighs, trying to stay in the vision, to stay connected to him. “Because I’m breathing down your neck.” 

Din turns, and Nova catches sight of him, clocks where he is. He’s not far at all. But she recognizes where he is, because his willow tree is facing the wildflowers.

Like liquid, completely fluid, Din springs to his feet. “No, you’re not.” 

Nova grins. She’s being pulled out of the vision, but she blows him a kiss he’ll never see. “Watch out, Mandalorian. I’m on your trail.” 

She falls out of the vision sideways, but it doesn’t matter. Leaning down to run the water bottle through the stream, Nova pops back up, buoyed by her tiny victory. As the terrain shifts to flatter, grassier sections, she skates close to the line of willow trees. Din’s in here somewhere, and he’s the expert. Her little head start could be entirely screwed if he even gets a whiff that she’s as close as she is. 

Carefully, painstakingly, she presses on. Vignettes of Din dance through her head—all filthy, all permanent. The way his mouth tastes after he goes down on her, devouring her for hours. The rough brush of his mustache against her upper lip. The grip of his hands, squeezing whatever part of her that needs to be throttled. The growl deep in the base of his throat when she wraps her lips around the perfect head of his cock. The feeling of him inside of her, moving desperately as she grips him. How long it’s been since he’s fucked her. How badly she needs it right now. 

Nova shivers, trying to shake the want loose. More than anything, more than she’s aching, she wants to win. Din’s made it perfectly clear how easily he can find her. The odds are tipped in his favor, even right now, even while she has the upper hand. 

She watches the forest floor under the bruised night sky, skirting around any branches or fallen, brittle leaves. Novalise is a lot of things, but a hunter has never been one of them. Still, she takes note of the breeze, the particular rustle as it dances through the trees. She knows there’s a giant pine tree near where Din is—one that the woods fades into up the mountain, but it’s alone around here. She swallows, pacing her breath. 

Come on, Nova, she thinks, this is your one shot. 

She stalks forward, prey turned predator, ready to—she’s not sure what exactly. Pounce? Maybe. Prove to Din that she can find him right back? Definitely. But a nagging voice seeps into her head, the one that’s competitive, the one that wants to win, and it’s only saying one thing.

You’re still running out the clock.

Nova stops. This wasn’t part of their deal. The directive was to avoid, evade, not hunt Din back. A flash of beskar, camouflage in the night, catches her eye at the same time that the moon comes out from under the clouds. She darts behind a giant willow tree, the trunk three times the size of her. 

Nova closes her eyes, thinking. 

“I can feel you, cyar’ika.” 

They shoot back open. Her heart picks up its arrhythmia. Nova swallows, clapping a hand over her mouth, afraid to breathe too loud. She feels him, too—knows his movements, even without seeing them. He may be a hunter, but Nova has her own strengths. 

“You may be able to feel me,” she breathes, barely moving her lips, which are pressed up against the comm, “but you can’t catch me.” 

The pounding in the left side of her chest rackets up in intensity. Din’s utterly silent, evaluating the challenge, and then he moves, lightning-sharp, whip-quick. Instead of being stuck in indecision, Nova closes her eyes, letting her intuition take over. 

She still has to be quiet, nimble, ten steps ahead. Especially with Din on her tail again. But this time, Nova doesn’t think. She doesn’t agonize. She keeps moving, refusing to let the swaying trees ahead of her outmaneuver her path through the trees. She doesn’t have the same kind of stamina that Din does, but right now, in this moment, she doesn’t necessarily need it. She’s no longer moving like Novalise. She’s letting the Force use her as a conduit, and she streaks through the trees, careful to stay out of sight. 

Even though Din is right on her heels, Nova doesn’t give into the war between heart and head, or the voice begging between her legs. She keeps on moving, running through brush and weaving through tree trunks, thinking about nothing except the pulse inside of her that’s keeping her steady. The trick is to get to somewhere with more cover, but as she reaches the very end of the wooded area, she realizes there’s a flaw in her plan.

Ahead, there’s only two options. The field of wildflowers, or a straight shot cut across the grass. 

She skids to a stop, feeling the chase. Nova gulps, knowing Din is only seconds behind her, and then she lets herself fall back into the thing that’s driving her. The field of wildflowers provides more cover. But the path cut through the edge of them, one she completely skipped over earlier, is the straightest, quickest point to the flock of trees where their cottage and the village hides. 

She can feel Din before she sees him. 

“Hi, Nova,” he breathes, and Maker, a rush of wetness pools between her thighs. She catches a flash of silver out of her peripheral vision, and then she knows he’s lunging. Nova has a split second to decide if she wants to give in, if she wants to get caught—or if she wants to win. 

Adrenaline decides for her. Just as a full body in beskar is about to land on top of her, trapping her to the spot, Nova dives forward, tucking and rolling before she hits the ground. She somersaults up with precision, using the momentum from her movement to keep running. Tearing across like birds streaking into the skies, she runs toward the straight path cut between the flowers. She doesn’t look back, but she knows the second Din’s after her again, his stride will eclipse hers. She can’t slow down. 

This rush, this adrenaline—it feels like everything she’s been running from since her parents died. The feeling of being trapped, of being hunted, it used to sit like a pile of rocks in the shape of panic in the middle of her stomach. But, she reasons, as her feet tear against the short grass, she was always running from something awful. 

She didn’t want to get caught. 

This time, she does. Stars above, she really, really does. Lust thunders in her ears the same way the drive does, and Nova fights it off, feeling Din’s stride shake the ground behind her. She has her plan. It materializes in the middle of the haze, and she grits her teeth and runs faster. This would be so much easier if they were in the sky, the Crest versus Kicker, but Nova can’t fly. She can’t be a pilot down here. 

So she goes on autopilot instead.

It took her hours to canvass the field earlier. If she had seen the shortcut, she would have been through the thick of it in just a few minutes. The opening is way on the side, approaching the flock of trees where the village rests from the left flank instead of head-on. 

“Stop running,” Din pants through the modulator, and fuck if the command isn’t storng enough to make Nova consider it. 

“Make me,” she responds, trying to keep her shaky voice level.

She can hear the growl before it fully comes out of his mouth. Din’s not a growler—he’s a rasper, a grunter. This noise is different and guttural and ten times as intense as the one he let out earlier. Nova squashes it down, relaying it to replay in her memory for months afterward, stashing it away when she feels like making Din scream. 

She only manages to stay a breath ahead of him, but it’s enough. He lunges again, and Nova tumbles off into the high grass, somehow, thank the Maker above, staying on her feet. She keeps moving, legs burning, lungs heaving, spurred on by the fact that she’ll be in full cover in a matter of seconds. And the knowledge that she’s evaded the most feared bounty hunter in the Outer Rim for almost a full day.

The same bounty hunter who knows her inside and out. The Mandalorian who could find her in death. The one that could probably resuscitate her, too. 

“Novalise,” he bites out, and it’s surreal to hear it in the comm and behind her at the same time, but Nova doesn’t stop. She crashes into the treeline, leaving grace and finesse behind, heading towards the cabin, desperate to get ahead just a little bit more. She’s waiting for something in particular. 

It’s pitch-black in here, in contrast to the mountain. The trees and brush are much fuller, robust. She knows any second, a big gust of wind is going to whip across the field, and it’s going to disseminate through the yellow trees. It’s what she needs, exactly what she needs. Nova swallows air as she streaks through the forest, feeling the breeze pick up, and as it does, she whips around the corner of a huge oak tree. As the wind shakes the tops of the trees, Nova closes her eyes, holds her breath, and jumps. 

She doesn’t like heights. It’s ridiculous to admit, especially since she’s a Rebel, a fighter pilot, but if she’s not encased in the steel stability of a starship, she hates them. Nova pushes all fear aside as she leaps, disappearing into the open mouth between thick, wiry branches of a tree, and she crosses her fingers as she grips the branch and the wind dies down. 

“Where are you,” Din grits out. It’s not a question. It’s a demand. Nova grins, wanting to slump back against the branch and catch her breath, but she doesn’t dare. Summoning what’s left of her strength in reserve, she raises her hand and shakes the brush, willing the breeze to follow with her scent. Din has his jetpack on. He could easily find her up here and snatch her out of the sky. But from this vantage point, if she pretends she’s seeing things through the dashboard, Nova’s in control. 

“Come find me,” she breathes, “but you can’t disturb the village. They’re sleeping.” 

She can practically see Din’s eyes flash. “That was a mistake.” 

Nova purses her lips up to the side. She can see him, barely, through the trees. The way he’s standing is so charged—taut, hungry, controlled. She mouths out a silent prayer to Naator, and the planet pulls it off. Again. After Din swings around, visor canvassing the entire area, he turns in the direction of the village, running off. 

Nova exhales, gulping in lungful after lungful of air. She’s feeling the burn of running now—it’s in her bones, her muscles, her sinew, her organs. Her heart is still pounding an obscene amount. Her calves and thighs ache like they’re falling apart. She settles in on the branch, creeping as close to the tree as she possibly can, knowing that if she has any chance of making it to the finish line, she needs two things—to keep Din distracted, and to close her eyes.

The village is perfect. It’s quiet, but there’s always a person or two making noise in the silence of the night, and there are so many places to hide. Nova feels a tiny pang of guilt for siccing an angry, horny Mandalorian on the people of Naator, but she knows they have spunk. They can handle it. 

And it’ll kill enough time for her to rest. Not sleep, Nova reasons with herself as she settles in, because sleeping is dangerous, but rest. She can rest for a few minutes, breathe normally, let her body relax, and then she’ll execute the final step of the plan.

Catch Din Djarin before he catches her. 

*

“Novalise.”

Nova’s eyes pop open, terror flooding through her veins. For a second, she forgets where she is—on Naator, actively being hunted down, perched up in a tree like a lothcat—and her heart hammers against her ribs as she plasters herself to the branch she’s leaning on, gripping with arms and legs like she’s never held onto anything before. 

Everything is diluted through shades of pink and warmth. Nova gasps, realizing the sun is cresting up over the horizon. 

The comm on her wrist is blinking, and Nova hurriedly rubs sleep from her eyes. She can’t have nodded off for more than a handful of minutes, twenty at the most, but when she checks the tiny clock counting down the hours, she startles. 

There’s only twenty-five minutes left on the clock. 

“Novalise.” 

“What’s the matter, Din,” she whispers, lips skating off the device, “still can’t find me?” 

“Oh, I know where you are,” he says, easily, “up in a tree. You didn’t think you were going to keep me off your trail for a full day, did you?” 

Nova’s heart sinks. “I—”

“Come down,” Din says, “and let me catch you.” 

Nova swallows, mouth dry. “No.”

Din’s voice gets closer. “Jump. I’ll catch you.” 

“That,” Nova says, looking around to find him, “has a double meaning.”

“I’m not going to fuck you up in that tree, cyar’ika. So you can either come down now and keep running, or I will fly up to you and drag you down myself.”

That absolutely should not turn her on, but it does. Nova breathes out, stuttered and cloying, and tries to clear her head. 

She sees him. He’s on the ground, staring up at her, head cocked to the left. Her chest burns. She wants him, just Din, and she’s so close to giving in and letting him ruin her in all the ways that he promised, but another idea blossoms up, and Nova hides a smile against the branch. 

“Okay,” she sighs, sounding resigned, “come up and get me, then.” 

She hears the propane in the jetpack ignite, and then he’s lifting off the ground. Nova tenses up, rolling her shoulders forward, and the second Din gets close enough to touch her, she backflips off the branch instead. 

It’s terrifying. And high. So, so high, but she doesn’t let herself think about it for too long. Nova hits the ground, staggering back over a root, feeling the full impact vibrate through her legs, and then she’s running again. 

She’s so close to making it. So close, and the adrenaline combined with the euphoria of winning spurs her on to what is hopefully the final lap. Nova sprints in the only direction she can—she runs towards the cottage. The timer on her wrist has counted down even lower. Fifteen minutes, then ten, then seven, as she runs through the trees, skirting through alleys and dusty side streets near the village, hurtling down the path, sending yellow leaves skittering up in her wake. 

Nova knows Din’s on her trail. She’s winded, even with the rush of almost making it, and he’s not even slightly affected. Her comm is still on, and she can hear his steady breaths as he chases her down. Her heart flips over when she looks over her shoulder. He’s so much closer than she anticipated, so quick, so agile—but Nova knows what to do. 

She’s going to run like hell and dive into the cottage, and then she’s going to escape out the back window while Din is tearing it apart looking for her. 

“Scared, Mandalorian?” she tosses over her shoulder, voice uneven. 

“You have no idea,” Din says lowly, “what I’m going to do with you.” 

“Oh,” Nova manages, breathless, “I have a few ideas.”

And the cottage bursts through the tree cover, into sight. Nova takes the chance, springing toward it, hand turning the knob on the door as she’s flying through it. Din’s caught a few paces behind her. It’s enough time to execute her plan. She slams the door behind her, flying into the tiny fresher off to the side, prying open the window. 

She feels Din in the house before he can make his presence known. Expert, heavy feet cross the floorboards, knowing exactly where to apply the right pressure. Enough to make the movement foreboding, sinister. Hidden enough to not be a dead giveaway. The cottage is only one floor, and there’s only so many places Nova can hide, so the second the window opens, no screen blocking her escape, she’s vaulting through it and sprinting around the side of the cabin. She knows Din will come out in a second, but the clock is down to less than a minute. Sneaking around the side, staying out of sight of the other open windows, she sneaks back around to the door.

Din makes a noise of anger, frustration. It coils deep in Nova’s stomach, rolling through her like a wave. She looks at the timer on the clock.

Fifteen seconds. 

Carefully, she places her hand against the holster for the Darksaber on her belt. 

Ten seconds.

She puts the other one on the open door, palm flat against the wood. 

Five seconds. 

Nova sees where Din is. Her breath is still held, hoping against hope he doesn’t feel her presence.

Four seconds. 

She steps carefully, praying, over the vestibule. 

Three seconds. 

One step forward.

Two seconds.

Her heartbeat, hammering, lightning-quick. 

One second. 

Nova bends her knees. 

The clock runs down to nothing. 

Nova pounces.

Colliding with full-body beskar is painful, knocking the wind out of her. She ignites the Darksaber in her free hand as she moves forward, the whoosh of the blade crackling through the static in the air, charged and intentional. Din braces himself for impact, but Nova’s already got him in her grasp, electric and alive. Everything inside of her is filled with adrenaline or lust. She stares up at him, triumphant, grin plastered across her exhausted face. 

“Gotcha,” she breathes, staring up at the visor. 

Like it’s nothing, Din shakes her off. Nova lets the Darksaber drop out of her hand, reining it in before it cuts through the wood of the floor. 

“That,” Din says lowly, “was not the deal.” 

The smile flickers and falters. “I caught you,” Nova breathes, “I win.” 

“You were supposed to evade me, cyar’ika. Run for twenty-four hours.” 

Nova blinks up at him, trying to categorize it. She was supposed to run, not catch him back. Her heart pounds as he moves closer, grabbing her chin roughly and forcing it up to meet his eyes behind the visor. She swallows, everything wired taut, staring. 

“I did,” she whispers, “and then I caught you.” 

“I found you three times,” Din grits out, so much stronger through the vocoder, “or did you forget so quickly?”

Nova raises her eyebrow. “You may have found me three times,” she says, voice high and thready, “but how many times did you actually catch me?”

If she could see Din’s face right now, Nova’s positive that his nostrils would be flaring, his teeth clamped down tight, something dangerous in his brown eyes. It should terrify her, being at the mercy of her Mandalorian, but it doesn’t. It just makes her wet. 

Her lips part. With a low growl, Din moves forward, closing the little distance between them, pressing her heaving chest against his armored one. Nova lets herself be pushed backwards, stalked like prey, all the breath leaving her body. 

“I’ve got you right here,” Din says, voice low and gravelly. His hand tightens against her chin. Nova lets him slam her back against the wall of the cabin, only dully registering the way it knocks the remaining air right out of her lungs. “Are you going to fight back?”

Nova licks her lips, staring back at him, knowing what his eyes look like under the modulator. “Do you want me to fight back?” 

For a moment, neither of them speak. There’s something dangerous between them, charged and wet. Like the way the sky feels before a thunderstorm. Like the best kind of devastation. 

“If you run from me again,” Din says finally, “I will drag your body back here and fuck it out of you.” 

Shivers shoot down Nova’s spine. She can feel how close she is, already, how she loves to feel like Din’s prey, even though she was the one that caught him. Again, the war of wanting to prove that she won and wanting her body to be ravaged sits in the middle of her chest. “Try it,” she breathes, and then she’s yanking her chin down, out of his gloved hold, and trying to dart out between his body and where his other arm is plastered against the wall beside her. 

She’s quick. She expects it to be easy, like the same move was back on Sorgan, but her body is already exhausted from the full day she spent running, and Din’s entire form is covered in a suit of armor that only enhances his strength. His hand shoots out, vicelike and expert, and Nova yelps as it closes around her arm.

In disbelief, she looks back at him, trying to yank it free. Once, twice, and then on the third, Din lets her go. But even as she moves like a firecracker, trying to traverse the floor and make it back outside into the pink air, Din’s hand fists in her hair, pulling her back against his body. It sings out in pain, but he soothes it immediately, gently holding her against his body, gloved hand pressed against her stomach, anchoring his back against him. 

“Good try,” he says, and his voice is absolutely filthy. “You like running from me, Novalise?” 

Nova’s voice comes out breathy and strangled. “Yes. And I like getting caught.”

Din’s hand travels up her stomach, over the peak of her chest, gloved fingers snapping out to pinch her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt. Nova squirms, but it just makes Din hold her tighter, hand palming her tits, the other traveling from the nape of her neck down her stomach. He’s rock hard against her, and the more Nova wriggles against him, the harder he becomes. His other hand inches down to the waistband of her pants, and when she twists her hips, trying—with absolutely zero urgency—to break free, he slips his gloved hand into the line of her panties, dragging the leather across her bare skin. 

With an impossible grip against her chest, Din slips his other hand further, thumbing down on her clit, hard. Nova mewls without being able to control the volume of it, and with the door still hanging open at the hinges, the noise travels out into the open air. Din dips his fingers lower, dragging them through her slit, and right when she’s about to beg for him to go deeper, he pulls them out, releasing his grip. 

Her knees buckle as she’s released back to her own volition, but before she can react, or try to run, Din’s hand is on her hip, flipping her around to face him.

She swallows. He’s holding her firmly in place, and pushes his other hand into her mouth. She tastes herself against the leather of his glove, and her eyes flutter back as she moans around his fingers. 

“You’re so fucking filthy,” he grits out, and Nova opens her mouth wider, letting his fingers go deeper into his throat. “Why did you run away from this, cyar’ika?” 

He punctuates each word with moving his fingers down to the hilt, and Nova can taste the gunsmoke and forest against the glove. Her knees sag again. She mumbles something, muffled against his hand. 

Nova whimpers as Din’s fingers pop out of her mouth. “Wanted to be hunted,” she slurs, licking her lips. 

Din’s hand comes to rest against her chin, and Nova tips her head back, silently goading him to clench it around her open throat. She’s dizzy, drunk with how badly she wants him—needs him. 

“I told you back on Mandalore,” he breathes, “you’d know what it would feel like when I was hunting you.” 

Nova looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, extending her neck back. “Feels so good,” she croons, using her free hand to guide his down to where she needs it. “Make me stay.” 

And then she wrenches free from his grasp, the only hold Din still has on her the hand bracketing her throat. She gives him a devilish grin, and yanks herself free, getting ready to run. Din stares at her under the visor like he can’t believe what she’s insinuating, and then, as she runs towards the open door, a snarl leaves through the modulator.

The sound alone is enough for Nova to cum right there, but she doesn’t. 

Din’s gloved hand closes around her neck, ruthless and unyielding. Stars flicker at the edge of Nova’s vision. 

“You want me to possess you, cyar’ika?”

All she can manage is a moan. 

“You have no idea,” he whispers through clenched teeth, dragging her back against his body, “how possessive I can be.” 

Nova lets him manhandle her against the wall, vision tunneling from the grip he has on her throat. Combined with being confined, caged in against the wood, it’s everything she needs. She’s strung-out and high on it, the feeling of being hunted, held. Din’s grip against her throat loosens, just enough for her to suck in a ragged, desperate breath. 

He presses himself into her. This isn’t the man she loves, the one under the armor—it is, but he’s encased in beskar, the full-on Mandalorian. This is the Din that would kill any man that looked at her. This is the Din that would fuck her into nothingness. This is the Din that screams danger. And she’s never wanted him more.

“You smell so good when you’re running from me,” he whispers, cloying, dangerous. Nova moans again, and she can feel the helmet press in the crook of her neck, giving her no room to escape. “So sweet.” 

Nova swallows as Din releases his grip around her throat. His arm is pressed flat against her chest, and even up against the wall, he paws at her tits, tracing a single gloved finger against her nipple. 

“Is this hard because you’re scared,” he says slowly, flicking at it, tweaking it between his fingers, “or because you’re turned on?” 

“Oh, Maker,” Nova pants, as his hand travels back up and squeezes her throat, “both.” 

Din stills for just a second. Long enough for her to feel like he’s evaluating her answer, and Nova freezes. For the first time, a hot flush of embarrassment shoots up her neck, and then she’s being spun around so that Din can look at her, study her, pin her body facing his. 

“That’s the wrong answer,” he grits, one hand on her thigh, the other tracing circles around her collarbone. “You’re going to lead me down a very dangerous path, cyar’ika.” 

Nova swallows, looking straight through the visor, refusing to back down. “Good.” 

Din sighs, low and languid. “If I fuck you like this,” he says, “I might ruin you.” 

Nova lifts her chin. “I’ve been a very bad girl, Din Djarin,” she breathes, tracing her fingers along the top of the plate on his thigh, cupping him between his legs. “I deserve to be ruined.” 

Din groans as Nova slides her hand up the entire length of his cock. “Nova,” he says, strained, the pretense dropping for just a second, “I don’t want to hurt you—” 

“I know,” she croons, feeling his fingers tighten against the skin of her throat as she palms him, “and you won’t. I want it.” 

Din exhales so loudly through the modulator that it consumes her. 

“Ruin me, Mandalorian,” she whispers, and she can feel the last visible shred of hesitation snap, as she lowers her voice, whiny and moaning, “please.” 

That does it. Din tears at her shirt, his gloves shredding the material. Nova moans as he grips her, so desperate, so strong. The material of her bra snaps as he yanks it off of her, gloved fingers back on her tits, pawing and squeezing. She moans again when he tweaks her nipple, wet and languid. 

“You gonna cum just from me playing with your tits, cyar’ika?” Din mumbles, and the sound of it through the modulator shoots Nova right to the edge. 

“Maybe,” she manages, and then he’s lifting the helmet just enough to wrench his mouth free. When his lips close against it, she cries out, not giving a single fuck that the door is wide open, that anyone could stop by and hear her crying out in pleasure, could stand there and watch. “Oh, fuck—”

“It’s okay,” Din says, hand traveling down to crawl between her thighs. Nova grinds down, desperate, and he shakes his head from side to side with her nipple in his teeth. “No,” he growls, “no touching my hand until you’ve already came.” 

With a shaking, stuttered breath, Nova nods, and then his tongue is swiping over again, and she’s gone. She clenches down, hard, and that’s as much as she needs until her orgasm rips through her, cresting and waning far too fast, and then she’s shaking and undone, held up only by Din. 

“Din—”

“Shhh,” he says, and then he’s ripping her pants down to her ankles, and Nova inhales through her teeth as his gloved fingers roam across her panties, already soaked clean through. She yelps as he thumbs over her clit, still so sensitive from how hard she just came, but he doesn’t do anything but tease her. Even with him on his knees, Nova registers dully, he still has all of the control. He traces a line up and down her lips, and Nova sobs out, needing more. “I decide,” he snaps, and Nova’s blood thunders in her ears. “You’re at my mercy. Do you know how fucking hot it is,” he breathes out, teasing with the lace on the underside, “to have you here, dripping and ready, stripped out of your clothes? To know that I can just take what’s mine?” 

Nova whimpers. 

“Your pussy smells so fucking sweet,” he growls. “I’d have you like this all the time if I could.” He circles her clit again, and Nova’s in heaven, already so close. “With those perfect tits on display, the smell of you in the air. And then I’d fuck you in front of anyone who dared to look at you.” 

Nova’s eyes squeeze shut as his thumb presses exactly where she needs. This time, she doesn’t care how desperate she is, how wrong everything Din’s saying is—because right now, in this moment, it just feels right. She’s addicted to it, the filth on his tongue, the way he’s possessing her, and on the comedown, her eyes open just enough to see him remove the helmet. Helplessly, she claws at it, hooking her fingers under the rim, pulling it clean off. 

His eyes are black with want, with lust. His hair is an absolute mess, and he tears at her underwear, ripping them in half. Before Nova can warn him just how overstimulated she already is, Din’s giving her a devilish grin, dripping with sin. He slams her back against the wall as he notches his tongue between her thighs, drinking, devouring. 

Nova’s a goner. She goes blind with it, exploding all over his tongue. She’s riding the same wave he’s lapping up, drinking like she’s the last water in the world. She grabs at his hair, trying to drag him away, but his eyes pop open in question. She can tell immediately what he’s asking: do you want to stop?”

“Fuck, no,” she breathes, and that same steely glint returns, and he’s diving deeper, tongue running in circles around her clit, swiping and lapping lower. Nova yelps as it teases her entrance, and then it slips inside—and she’s lost in ecstasy. This is better than when she rode his thigh on Korrus. Better than the first time he made her cum. Better than riding him into submission. Better than absolutely anything she’s ever felt. This is what people kill and die for, and she’s living it. 

She cries out as Din pulls away, but it’s only for a second. He’s standing, roving up her body, and then he’s anchoring both of his hands down on her shoulders, pushing her over across the floor to the bed.

They don’t make it that far. 

Nova drops to her knees, not caring if she cuts them against the floorboards. “I love to be on display for you,” she croons, tearing at Din’s waistband, “but it’s your turn.” 

Din’s eyes flash. “No.” 

Nova raises her eyebrows, stopping immediately. “No?”

“If you put your sweet mouth on my cock right now,” he grits out, his voice so dark and gravelly it sounds like it’s still coming through the modulator, “I will cum down your throat. You won’t get fucked.” 

Nova shrugs. “Worth it,” she says, and then she’s pulling it free and licking over the tip. 

Din moans so loud that it shakes the foundation of the house. “Cyar’ika—”

“It’s,” she says, her tongue roving down the underside of it, “my. Turn.” 

Din doesn’t protest. His hands tangle in the mess of her hair, groaning as she swallows. He’s huge—thick and long at the same time—but Nova’s had plenty of practice, and she takes him down to the hilt. With one hand, she pulls him even closer, begging to have every single inch, and as he pistons out of her, Nova’s eyes flood with tears. 

It hurts so good. She wants more, needs more, and her free fingers find her clit, begging Din to fuck her mouth. He’s undone, unhinged with it, and so is she. This is the kind of high she’s been chasing, the one they both need. Ruination feels so good when it’s this kind of desecration. Holiness being corrupted. Nova cries out around Din’s cock as she crests close to the edge again, and then he’s snarling, pulling her off. 

“Hey—”

But before Nova has a chance to protest, Din’s scooping her off the floor like she weighs absolutely nothing. The sheer force of him knocks the wind out of her, his hands closing around her ass, carrying her over to the bed. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve came,” he grits out, throwing Nova down on the sheets. She yelps with the force of it, feeling it down to her molecules, her bones. “Not doing it if I’m not inside you.” 

Nova stares up at him, pink light streaming in through the windows. She wants to stay right here, in this moment, in this kind of love, forever. It’s addicting. It’s haunting. It’s everything she’s ever fucking needed. 

Din doesn’t move, waiting for permission. He stands resolute until Nova sits up enough to bring him down on top of her. “Fuck me,” she whispers, breathless, “hard.” 

Din inhales and then he’s pushing inside of her, cock still dripping with her saliva. Nova moans as he sinks in, painstakingly slow, careful, clawing at the small of his back, and then he’s snapping his hips, driving inside her so deep. She’d forgotten how good he feels, how big he is, how badly she wants him, needs him. Three strokes and she’s on the edge again. He buries his face in her neck, and Nova arches her back against the feeling of his teeth on her skin. He’s relentless. She’s so in love. 

“Your cunt is so fucking tight,” he manages. 

“How wet am I?” she breathes back, and Din’s fingers trail down her body to dip in. Somewhere between the floor and the bed, his gloves were ripped off, and when he pushes his wet fingers into her mouth, Nova hums around them. 

“Soaked,” Din manages, and something in his voice completely unhinges. “Oh, fuck, Nova, I’m gonna—” 

“Cum for me,” she interrupts, and then his eyes are rolling back in his head. “Ruin me.”

As if he was just waiting for her permission, Din does. Nova clenches around him, both of them coming apart at the same time. Even with the ceiling above her, Nova only sees stars in her eyes. For what feels like both a blip and an eternity, they stay there, sharing the high. When Din finally comes back down enough to pull out of her, he takes two fingers and plunges them back inside of her, an unspoken reminder that he’s possessed her. 

Nova’s exhausted, sweaty, happier than she’s been in weeks. This was worth the chase. This was worth the wait. 

When both of them have recovered, at least enough to breathe evenly again, she turns on her side, gazing at Din through the rays of pink light. “So,” she says, still breathless, “who won?” 

The way Din looks at her is more than just love. It’s reverence. “Me.” 

Nova glares at him. “I caught you,” she says, punctuating it by pushing a finger into his still-armored chest. 

Din grins at her, and it’s divine, the bareness of it. “You did,” he concedes. “Always, it’s you catching me. I—I meant that I won. Loving you, that’s winning.” 

Nova smiles, tears threatening at the edges of her eyes, letting him pull her in. It’s safe here, the feeling of it radiating through her entire body. Sleep tugs at her. “I’m never running from you again, you know,” she whispers against Din’s neck. “And I love you. So much.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just strokes a hand over her hair. He doesn’t need to, not this time. He knows. Before sleep takes Nova, the last coherent thing she thinks is that sure, Din may ruin her. But he always resuscitates her, brings her back to life.

*

I HOPE YOU LOVED IT!!!!! i know Chapter 26 was a whole novel, and i so hope it was worth the wait <3

with my original outline, the next chapter (27) was supposed to be the end of SD, but now i'm not so sure if it will be. we still have a few plot points to go before the third one (a hint for the title of the third and final in the SM trilogy was hidden in this chapter, let me know if you catch it) ;)

with how life has knocked me around, i don't want to promise that 27 will be up within a week, but i DO promise it'll be SOON!!!

i love y'all so much. thank you for sticking with me, Din, and Nova. it means beyond words <3

#SOMETHING DEEPER FANFIC #SOMETHING DEEPER #SOMETHING MORE #SOMETHING MORE UPDATE #SOMETHING MORE FANFIC #DIN DJARIN X READER #DIN DJARIN X YOU #DIN DJARIN X FEMALE READER #DIN DJARIN X ORIGINAL CHARACTER #DIN DJARIN X ORIGINAL FEMALE CHARACTER #DIN DJARIN X OC #THE MANDALORIAN X YOU #THE MANDALORIAN X READER #THE MANDALORIAN X FEMALE READER #THE MANDALORIAN X ORIGINAL CHARACTER #THE MANDALORIAN X OC #DIN X NOVA #DINOVA #NOVALISE #MANDO X READER #MANDO X YOU #MANDO X OC #MANDO X ORIGINAL CHARACTER #MANDO X ORIGINAL FEMALE CHARACTER #PEDRO PASCAL #PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTER #PEDRO PASCAL FANFICTION #STAR WARS FANFICTION #THE MANDALORIAN FANFICTION #DIN DJARIN SMUT

[dreadfutures]

it's been a tiring week, I've had students cry in front of me, tell me how lonely they are, tell me they're convinced it's week 2 of the quarter and they're so far behind they're never gonna be able to catch up. And I think I've managed to help all of them get to people they need on campus to make things at least a little more manageable.

talking to disability services and getting accomodations is really scary when the culture you're raised in doesn't believe in disability or mental health at all, or consider it shameful to ask for help. getting food stamps comes with all sorts of ideological baggage. but fuck man, if you don't have to work two jobs and can get food stamps and use those 80 hours to study for your chem and bio classes, do it!!!!! no one has to know!!! so many things are protected and private and just waiting to make your life easier so you can do the important things, like studying to be a doctor

all the rich kids are taking the shortcuts and acting entitled to every accomodation and care and extra time and easier settings to Life. and brown kid culture is the opposite. self reliant, self sufficient, and sucking it up because you gotta be strong and avoid shame at all costs. that's gotta change.

i checked in with a bunch of students since talking to them, and they seem like they're getting their footing. it's not too late! it's never too late! you can fail your ochem class and do really bad in your other ochem classes and still end up going to get a PhD in a chemistry that is half built on organic chemistry. It's possible!

You only know it's worth it if you try. And if you give up at the start, you'll never know what you're missing out on--or discover what you don't like.

There are a lot of facets to being a doctor. Do you want to be a doctor, or do you just want a career that has face to face time with people? do you wanna be a doctor or do you want to take samples and analyze them and find out what's wrong with someone? do you wanna be a doctor or do you want to study disease? do you wanna be a doctor or do you want to revolutionize healthcare or expand access to programs?

every individual has a different answer and only you can find out for yourself if this chem class is gonna get you one step closer to chasing what you really wanna do.

The only thing that can truly truly stop you is giving up before you begin.

It's not gonna be easy! I worked two jobs and discovered all sorts of health stuff in college and was often miserable and certainly wasn't the smartest person in the room like, ever. It was really hard. But I did it. I clawed my way into accessing the things I needed to make it Doable.

There are two students I have who have already said, joking through their tears of frustration: "idk what to do, I guess I might as well drop out! haha!"

And I'm not kidding, but that's a fucking death sentence right there. Joking about that shit and getting so emotional and flippant puts the idea solidly in your head as a possibility.

When I have students who make comments like that, I know I might as well just walk away! because I know when I try to help them, even if I offer to do everything for them to get their problem solved -- wifi chip in her computer is busted so she can't do the online homework. guess what I have resources to get free computer loans on campus, and there are computer labs in the 24/7 library that are NEVER used, and I have SOLUTIONS as well as sympathy...

I know when a student says something shitty about themselves like that, they will REFUSE any and all help.

They are convinced they're hopeless and helpless. So therefore it's not worth helping them, because Nothing Can Fix This.

Guess what? It would be a lot less work to help you than some of the other students who are even further behind! and I am still trying to help regardless! but nope pessimism and self sabotage disguised as irony and humor have cut out the Rational part of the brain....they've decided theyrr done for.

You know that when you get upset, your brain gets flooded with hormones that make it difficult to think analytically?

it's really clear from the outside, lemme tell you.

I worry for my students, but I think the vast majority of them are gonna be good, and I am really happy. These are the parts of teaching I love the most. de Broglie equation and bullshit aside, sharing my fuck ups and experiences and knowledge and SEEING students enroll in the free tutoring, or knowing they reached out to therapists, or knowing they joined an org I recommended, is really worthwhile and special

#personal #and EXHAUSTING #long lost #rambling

[scribblelegs]

I am exhausted. I can’t catch up. I am overwhelmed.

I start 10 things and forget what I am doing/saying

I forget what I’m saying mid sentence sometimes it’s so embarrassing

I go to get something and if I’m not repeating out loud what I’m going to get over and over until I find it I forget before I get to the next room

I can’t seem to get organized, I clean the same space sometimes 3 times a day. Always playing catch-up cos I can’t sit till the room is set up how I need it for the day. Then the kitchen, bathroom etc it NEVER ENDS.

I can’t remember anything I say anymore. I have a hard time listening too yet talk NON FUCKING STOP it makes me cringe. Pushes ppl away

I talk too much like a nervous tick, or when I’m anxious or excited, or just to talk. It’s to the point it makes me uncomfortable but I can’t turn it off

I over analyze every word I say to anyone, and I forgot what else I was going to type. I can’t get my thoughts outs fast enough t to write or even speak at times. Just jumbled, scrambled and scattered.

Even my speech is fucked.

So I cry out in frustration but no one’s listening and the doctors makes everything so much worse.

I have no control over my emotions, it’s unbearable some days it’s so intense.

Everything is slipping.

I haven’t been able to focus I’m all over the place for the last month. I can’t even get through a fucking movie in one sitting.

It’s pathetic



[saint-gallier]

Lifting the veil (a very positive blog on sleep apnea)

It all started when my mother and sister came to visit. Due to being in a rather small duplex, we must accomodate the space for sleeping arrangements. My mother during the three nights she spent kept waking me brutally up because, as we were on the same bed (ahem), she noticed to her shock i was having sleep apnea that climaxed to the point where she asked herself when i was going to breathe again. Next day, during the conversation about it, i got very scared at a very specific sentence she said. She mentionned the gradual loss of my neurons and that i still didn't do anything about it. And this perspective frightened me so hard that i saw myself calling the next morning the first pulmonologist and set up an appointment. This is how i function. Among a myriad of thoughts that came up since then, i realise that my functioning as an individual, my thought processing is based on keywords - in extenso maxims. Losing my neurons. I could experience the loss of my mind for a long time but because of its nature as a sickly and addicting vicious circle, i could not do anything, i could not grasp its importance. It is truly a medical condition affecting someone's life. But finally! i got tested; it is a medical intervention. You go visit a pulmonologist, you get out from the building with a monitor strapped to your chest and arm. That's why you have to come with your sleeping clothes, you can't take the monitor off.

I didn't feel i slept at all well because of the sleeping arrang... because i had a bloody monitor strapped to my chest who got off at precisely 10.30pm until 8 am! I thought i didn't get some sleep at all. But i had to give the monitor before midday at all cost or the datas would be lost. And of course the bus wouldn't arrive and... story for another time.

Because it's a medical testing, it takes some days to analyze them entirely. And it showed that i have/am? a severe case of sleep apnea. I'm in the highest area, the critical portion of patients, yay! I usually never win anything. Joke aside, a rate of 70 seizures is not good news. A duo of medical suppliers came some days later to set up the equipment that i now have to use every single night. So now i sleep wearing a dumbo-like nasal mask connected to an electronic equipment that through filters uses the air of the room to help me breathe easier.

They came monday of last week and i use it since then. And it's the godsend i knew i needed. It's what i needed, it's what i should have done for years. My body had reached such state of foggy-messy-like shit because of years of catastrophizing depression, shameless denial, still eating to this day junkfood sorry excuse for a life, collecting patiently moments of voluntarily uneventful falsly-hoping daily ermit-like fucking i-know-it's-been-only-a-week life that i can honestly say. This veil has been lifted. I feel it. In my bones, in my head. I have done much more for MYSELF in the last week than in the span of years. I feel positive. I feel fine. I feel it, how i put the capital in I back in place. I feel it. It's finally time to carve this very, very anchored has-been old self that kept on living in this church-like silence that resonated only against the coated walls of my exhausting brain. It's been a very long time since i didn't have any regret for a few days in a row, that i didn't jealous something from someone, from an artist's drawing to someone's instantaneous piece of life, that i sense my expectations in life came back from the cheese they were laying in, hopes and dreams that i feel are in movements, banging at each others like wind chimes, how my juices to thought processing are on the right tracks, how i train my joy of thinking to feel enlightened. I feel that my body isn't in a constant delay of itself, that anything i do isn't achieved in the span of a month. Because the thanatophobic residing in me won't wait for death any longer, bloody screaming. I am fucking done. No more of this secluded life, deprived of anything, it's time to eat life. I know that i never did it fully, but this is no time for regrets for i, to my own music will act on life.

I'll use a Rik Mayall's but. BUT! While the goal is to put myself into motion, to have propects coming true, to make something of this life that i kept on standby. I must be honest with this sudden excess of energy. I realize there is a long road ahead of finding me back. At some point this medical supply, this benefaction of air will not suffice anymore. And so the hard work will kick off.

I already started gaining an amount of sleep back. It doesn't change the fact that i am still obese so must do something about it. Being single as well doesn't help either. Even if my train of thoughts is rolling hard, i'm still a lazy gay fucker. I must work on it with this positive attitude in mind. Clouded with exhaustion, losing hopes one after another is an allowance of mine no longer, i do not agree to function this way. This is what the wiping of these dark circles below my eyes tell me, i feel it. Finally at an uncertain point, i'll have to face the most difficult task i ever encountered, this greatest pleasure turned into loathing turned into fear turned into nothing that i care to call drawing. Let's not kid around, i don't draw. Though this is not the post to explain the reasons behind, it lies within me, as vibrant as ever. And i want it as generous as what breathing through the nose while asleep, not snoring anymore means. This unexpected and long-awaited regain of life, this almost-like back from the dead let's-get-fucking-physical sensation.

It's been ten years since my life has been downsized to a figment of imagination. I exhausted all the ropes and tropes this so-called life could offer me and never did! I'm done. I wanna live, i wanna scream. I want to play Elden Ring not being scared of an enemy (frankly any enemy...). My sword is drawn as hard as this cornucopia of feelings i'm having. A stroke of life has hit me and reduced into pieces the very wrong notion of immobility. My thirst for a good life finally reached brobdingnagian proportions. Let's all hurrah for the joy of sleeping well shall we?

P.S.: if you are suffering from sleep apnea, if you're feeling more exhausted when you wake up than when you go sleep, if you feel clouded at any time during the day, if your sleep is in distress, if you snore, if you feel you cannot breathe while sleeping. Seek medical assistance.

P.S.2: it takes forever to heal from depression, i'm a walking proof. Its consequences affect all aspects of your life. But you can do something. Find your own supply of strength, your own "tune", do not be ashamed, talk to whoever is willing to listen, tell fuck off to those who won't, seek medical assistance if needed, or psychiatric help.

#personal #me #myself #and i #life #living #sleep apnea #health #healthy #i wanna scream #i wanna life #is a song from Goldfrapp #back into the world of the living #feel good #yes #no more #sadness #fear #sunny #sunshine #fuck yeah #reblog for fuck sake

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author’s note: hello my dears! Sorry for not updating the past few days. I travel a lot for work and the circumstances lately made it difficult for me to update as much as I wanted. Although I did get enough inspiration to write this chapter. I come back to you with some juicy lemony goodness ;)

Minors DNI

Warning: NSFW content, mildly non con at the beginning, emotional sex, hurt, comfort and angst.

X.

Blinding jealousy was the only thing that could describe how Satoru felt. Boiling in his blood, licking flames of rage through his body.

Betrayal… his best friend, holding his wife’s hand as he walked her back home. Not only that! Suguru went in with YOU! In your apartment! As if this was the most normal thing in the world!

Did you invite him to stay the night? Did you both plan this ahead of time?

Warping to the top of the building next to yours he continued to watch from his position as you turned on the lights in your apartment. Setting your bag on the counter, taking off your shoes and jacket. Suguru followed you in taking off his shoes and walking into the kitchen after you.

Gojo saw you both laughing and talking like you always did. You were at ease, immersed in your own world… completely forgetting about Satoru.

Did the kiss from last night mean nothing to you?

“What the fuck is going on?!” He groaned removing his blindfold; now fully observing and analyzing every single detail of what you two were doing using his six eyes.

Gojo didn’t want to miss a thing.

He focused on you, your reactions, the way you smiled, the way you acted, your heartbeat, the tone of your voice and… that bright and warm halo of happiness surrounding you while in Suguru’s presence; the same halo that last night was cold for Satoru. All of your smiles, all of your warmth and kindness were dedicated to Suguru.

Satoru’s frayed nerves and chaotic mind debated wether he should warp there and steal you away (… of course then proceed to fuck your into oblivion, fill you with his cum to the brim until you knew there was no other man for you other than your husband) OR keep watching and see how far you would go.

As angry as he was right then, he had to remind himself that Suguru and you had always been very close. It wasn’t uncommon for Geto fo visit you and have dinner with you to keep you company whenever Satoru wasn’t around due to his work or even have dinner together all three of you. This wasn’t ‘abnormal’ per say. The difference was that NOW you ‘thought’ you were not Satoru’s anymore (the operational word being ‘thought’)Geto’s presence never bothered him before… until now.

Taking a deep breath Satoru saw you walking towards your bedroom. His hands trembled in anticipation.

Were you going to sleep with Suguru?

He walked along the edge of his rooftop following your movements inside until you stopped in front of your room. Suguru moved closer to you and Satoru almost snapped. Lifting his hand to use his cursed technic against his best friend he saw how you both hugged and after you placed a kiss on his cheek you bid him goodnight. You pulled back and Satoru sighed in relieve but then Suguru was the one that leaned in and kissed your lips. Satoru was as shocked as you were but you managed to recover faster than he did since you returned Suguru’s embrace for what felt like an eternity. Finally when you separated, Geto and you exchanged a couple words and after another hug he walked out of your room closing the door behind him.

Satoru’s eyes had been open like saucers while the exchange took place, he released a breath he didn’t know have been holding. He saw you turn around and touch your lips with a blush on your cheeks.

He lost his fucking mind right then.

-

After coming back home Suguru and you talked about the latest shows you were watching and the movies you wanted to watch so you could catch up. A couple jokes about your gory tastes in movies and series after and you were both ready to turn in for the day.

“So! You wanna do a ‘The Walking Dead’ marathon?” You asked with a smirk “sure doll, we can do that tomorrow. You have the morning free right?” Asked Suguru. Sunday mornings were your ‘me’ time since your instructor didn’t work on Sundays “yes I do!” You answered with a big grin. You felt like a kid and the sensation filled you with happiness.

Now that Suguru was here you felt so different, as if you had been numb but now you could feel again.

A yawn cut your next sentence making Suguru chuckle “come on sleepy head, you and I are both whipped” you complied with a sleepy smile and walked down the hall.

Geto stopped in front of your room and gave you one of his characteristic big bear hugs. He was so tall and muscular, you felt surrounded by warmth and muscles everywhere. The fresh and crisp scent of his citrus cologne and detergent made your stomach do a little flip. The intimacy and trust you felt with him reminded you that you were not alone.

It had been easy to bury yourself physically and emotionally in your work but now that Suguru was with you, it reminded you that despite of how tough things got, you would always count on him.

Reluctantly you both pulled back, his Adam’s apple at eye level with you made you swallow. When you looked back into his eyes you found his trailing on your lips before they moved up to meet your e/c eyes.

There was a growing tension between the two of you, too strong and obvious to ignore.

Before, when you were with Satoru; Geto and you had ignored it but now there was nothing stopping either of you from acknowledging it. Sooner than anticipated your lips connected in a tender kiss. He was soft and kind, not demanding. He just wanted to comfort you but also let you know he wanted you, all in his sweet particular way.

You returned the kiss. It was inviting like a balm, it didn’t mean to mark and conquer but to soothe. His plump lips still tasted of wine. It made your mouth avid to taste more.

When you pulled away a blush covered your cheeks “good night Kitten” Suguru tells you with his deep baritone making a very pleasant tingling sensation run down your spine “good night Sugu” only then Geto leaves to go to his room across from yours.

The door closes behind you, all you can hear is your heart hammering away from within, you actually���.enjoyed that kiss. It was so sweet, so tender… so soothing. Everything that Suguru was to you was poured in that single action. Touching your lips you start debating whether this was something good or something you should wait before pursuing.

Satoru didn’t sign your divorce, technically you were still married. Suguru didn’t deserve a half assed relationship with someone who doesn’t have her shit together.

You were still healing it was true, but… when Suguru kissed you, it made you feel safe…. Like you could let go and trust him.

Feeling guilty about it, you compared it to Satoru’s kiss from last night. It was impossible to deny there was still passion between you your husband and yourself. But then again physical intimacy was never the problem in your former relationship.

The thrill of the danger, of knowing nothing good would come out of it and despite it all your stubborn desire to immerse yourself in the ocean that was Gojo Satoru. Was what terrified you.

No… you couldn’t think about him that way. Not anymore.

With a sigh you decided it was time for bed. You turned around to head to the bathroom but your body connected with something hard and warm. Looking up you saw Satoru’s crystal blue eyes but before you could scream he covered your mouth with one hand while wrapping the other one around your waist. “Oh no no no no my love… none of that, we are not going to alert sweet Suguru about me, princess” the smirk that pulled at his lips made you shiver, it was predatory… maniac even.

Before your senses could register the change in the atmosphere you were warped away with Satoru. You screamed, but it was too late, you were not in your home anymore.

The lavish interiors of an elegant dim lit suite received you “what the fuck are you doing!?” You asked when he let you go, taking a step back breathing heavily “are you insane!?” You asked the white haired sorcerer who in answer only moved closer to you. The more you tried to get away the closer he got, until you were trapped between the wall and his towering 6’4 frame.

—

“Now princess…. Just what were you and Suguru doing?hmm?” He asked with a terrifying grin that poorly attempted to disguise his anger. Moving his hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Nothing of your concern!” You answered glaring at him, had he been spying on you? You tried to drop your body against the wall to escape from him but before you moved further than an inch down Satoru completely crushed your body with his “I am not done talking to you yet… my wife” he remarked making you ball your hands in fists. It annoyed and revolted you how he tried to use your ‘unfortunate’ marital status for leverage “I am your wife only on the paper… I don’t care what you think or say!” Satoru didn’t like your answer but his grin only broadened; grabbing your wrists and placing them on top of your head he held them with one of his large hands of dexterous fingers “you are right….” He started, giving you false hope “maybe it is time I remind you of your marital duties” your eyes opened wide but before you could attempt anything he kissed you. Fierce lips and teeth demanded your submission… this wasn’t a tender request… it was a display of dominance and possession.

You bit his lip trying to make him stop but Satoru took that as an invitation to grow bolder. His hand moved to your ‘V’ cut long sleeve top and ripped it right in the middle making you gasp; giving him the perfect opportunity to plunge his tongue in your mouth and intensify the kiss tenfold.

His free hand moved to your left breast squeezing the globe of warm flesh underneath. Groaning against your lips on approval, Satoru moved both his hands to your hips and using his inhuman strength he carried you across the room faster than you could tell and then threw you on the bed.

“Satoru… don’t do this! Are you mad?!” You asked in a trembling tone while scooting backwards on the bed in a miserable attempt at escaping him.

“Yes! I am! As a matter of fact… you are a good part of the reason why I am insane!” Grabbing one of your ankles he pulled you closer to him. Spreading your legs he laid on top of your body, giving you no chance to escape “SATORU STOP PLEASE!” You screamed but Satoru only focused on destroying the fabric of your jeans. He wanted all the obstacles between you to be gone! He wanted your clothes, your pain and Geto to be gone! So he could have you all to himself.

You tried to kick him but when you are struggling with the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of his generation there was absolutely nothing your body could accomplish without his approval.

A part of yourself hated the fact that you were just as revolted as aroused at the moment. Was that combination even possible? On one hand you felt dirty because your husband was trying to force himself on you out of jealousy…. But on the other part… the dark and twisted one… you were aroused by his display of pure male dominance, by his suffocating desire to have you and only you.

It was hard to fight so many years of habit, of fantastic chemistry… of love.

You would have to be blind or stupid not to see that your husband had been obsessing over you since you left but….

What good could come out of it?

If you both gave into your primal desires and fucked each other’s brains out. Would that change anything about your broken and unhealthy marriage?

His hot mouth moved to your neck to nibble and suck on that spot right bellow your earlobe that he loved to abuse. A big bruising mark was left in place, but he wasn’t content with just that. He wanted to leave the brand of his desire painted on your skin, like a beacon for him and a warning for others.

As the minutes went by his attentions became less frantic, instead they turned more purposeful and tender.

You stopped moving altogether, not fighting him nor corresponding his affections and careful treatment of your body.

https://youtu.be/qfFOzQVKuMs

Satoru pulled back for a moment to see you…. Only then it hit him like a train.

What the fuck was he doing? He looked at you and saw the tear trails that dried on your cheeks. Your top ripped in half displaying the soft skin of your breasts only covered by a bra.

“Y/N…” he whispered looking into your eyes. He caressed your cheek “I’m sorry… love” he mumbled trembling. “I’m so sorry…” a sob broke through his lips.

Did he…..? Did he…. almost forced you to have sex with him? How far had he gone in his endeavor to get you back by any means necessary? The notion that he almost…. Raped his wife made him sick.

He cried like a child. Wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face against your naked stomach; kneeling on the floor before the bed he crumbled to pieces. Repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. He was horrified with himself; he had done many questionable things in his life but this… took the cake. It made him a piece of shit! He didn’t deserve you! You were too good for someone as tainted as him. The dread that revelation brought made him cry harder.

He realized his obsession had been a result of the fear he was unwilling to admit having. The terror that made his insides coil. The absolute horror of losing yet another person he loved.

The fear of loosing you.

He had always been alone since he was a child. Satoru didn’t share much of his past with you but the few things you knew was that he had become an orphan at a very young age. He had to mature rapidly to overcome the obstacles of being a kid with so much power in the middle of a corrupt and outdated world of magic and intrigue.

Gojo always felt lonely, despite of how much he liked to mess around with people and play pranks on everyone. But you… had been one of the very few who got to see through his perfectly built facade and tell him the truth.

The night he told you he loved you was after you decided to stay with him in his apartment. He didn’t say or do anything particularly obvious but you somehow knew he didn’t want to be alone. He kept trying to fill the space with playful banter but you shut him up by hugging him and holding him tightly saying he didn’t have to explain anything all. That you would always be there for him, no matter what. It had been on the anniversary of the death of his parents.

Somehow, your empathetic and loving nature blindly guided you to stay with him and allow THE Gojo Satoru to be just…. human in your arms.

-

As much as you wanted to hate him and resent him, seeing him in such a vulnerable state made your heart ache for him. Unable to stop yourself you caressed his platinum locks while he held onto you and cried begging for your forgiveness over and over again.

When Satoru calmed down he removed his head from your lap slowly, you have been crying along with him. Your fates leaded you both exactly where you were at. Every decision and mistake carved this painful path you walked now.

Looking into your eyes he moved closer as if he was afraid to scare you away, his face stopped just an inch away from yours, giving you the chance to reject his advances but instead of doing that you closed the distance that separated you both. You lips met and melted together in a desperate kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, making him moan recognizing the intimate and passionate gesture he had missed for so long. He laid you back down again, climbing on top of you. His hands moving down to your waist in an attempt to feel you as close as possible, as if you were going to disappear in any moment.

Your legs wrapped around his waist when your tongues laced together and caressed each other; moans and sighs left your lips, filling Satoru’s ears and making his hands wander over the expanse of exposed skin.

Making him stand before you and between your legs his long sleeved black shirt was removed quickly, your admired his perfectly sculpted pale torso, this man has always been so… perfect; as if the gods themselves had decided to carve every inch of his person. Although, he did look skinnier, you knew he had not been really taking care of himself. The sight send a pang of pain to your heart. “Toru….” A little painful whisper abandoned your lips when you pulled him closer. Your mouth left a small path of kisses from his neck to the center of his chest, he gasped at the sweet and soothing action. Once more, your tenderness reminded him that he did not deserve you and yet he couldn’t come to make himself stop you. He needed you more than air to live.

Avid hands moved south of his stomach to undo his jeans and pull them down; a very vague part of your brain registered that you were now willingly doing this. Should you stop? Next to go were his boxers. He was standing naked in front of you.

His hardened cock stood between his legs with a small dribble of precum rolling down the reddened head.

He was an Adonis.

Looking into his eyes you saw the loving gaze laced with guilt in his cerulean orbs. You couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to.

He then helped you lay down to return the favor. His mouth kissed its way to the center of your breasts while his right hand undid your bra behind. Taking off the remains of your destroyed top along with your bra, next were the flimsy black lace panties that he rolled down your legs until you were fully naked before his eyes.

He was left speechless “you are so beautiful…” a goddess laid naked on his bed, with her inviting lips, glorious s/c skin, a halo of darker h/c hair around your head, perfect breasts and a pair of delectably shaped legs that he wanted wrapped around him.

How did he ever dare cheat on you? Not only your body was beautiful to him but your heart, you knew no boundaries when it came down to loving someone. You had given him everything and then some.

Kneeling before you he grabbed one of your legs and left kisses from the calf to the inner thigh. Placing it carefully over his shoulder he stopped for a moment to look in your eyes before his mouth delved between your thighs. He found your sweet pussy already wet and waiting for him to lavish his attentions. Like a starved man he licked your pussy, consuming everything you had to offer him. Your flavor coating his tongue made his stomach tight in delight, he recognized the addictive sweetness of your scent. Parting your lips with his tongue he penetrated your entrance with his tongue, going straight to the source. You screamed and he had to hold your hips so you wouldn’t pull away. He couldn’t let you go! Not now! Not ever!

Once he was satisfied he replaced his tongue with his fingers, pumping two digits in and out of your soaking entrance. His tongue looked for your clit and swirled around it, sucking at times and flicking at others. His reward were your screams, moans and sighs of pleasure. They were only for him and no one else.

“T… Toru… I’m gonna come”

“Come for me princess, give me all of you my love” Satoru asked quickly before his mouth returned to your slit and his thumb took care of the bundle of nerves at the top.

You screamed, arching your back when your orgasm washed over your body and completely overwhelmed your senses. Taking his time to taste and swallow your juices Satoru finally emerged from between your legs. Your eyes darkened with a desired that matched his.

Your arms inviting him to come closer encouraged him to lay on top of you after wiping his chin with his hands. Long legs surrounded his waist while you looked in each other’s eyes. “I love you…” he said at the same time he slid his cock inside you, slowly until he was fully sheathed and his balls slapped your ass, making you scream his name.

Satoru was not a small man by any means, taking all of his impressive length at once would have been impossible had he not prepared you beforehand. He knew it, so he moved slowly at the beginning, allowing you some time to adjust while he whispered sweet nothings on your ear.

The moment your legs pulled him closer and deeper he knew you were ready. Without a word he rocked his hips, retracting all the way until only the tip was left inside before he went all the way back in making you body jolt.

The rhythm was slow and purposeful at the beginning but as the minutes went by, the both of you became hungrier, more demanding, more… needy. Your hips met his thrust by thrust. The slapping of your skins intensified as did the moans.

Your tight and hot walls squeezed his cock so deliciously the man was having a tough time not behaving like an animal and rutting you through the mattress like a beast in heat. He wanted to show you he loved you.

He held both your hands in his, pushing them against the bed at both sides of your head. Looking into your eyes he moved deeper “I love you…” he said again and you couldn’t help but feel how the tears escaped your eyes “I love you too…” you admitted in a tiny voice that could barely be considered a whisper.

Satoru eliminated the distance between you both and kissed you, pouring his heart in that action. Your climax was close, he knew this so he angled his hips to continue pummeling your sweet spot while he drove you over the edge.

You came around his thick cock, your walls tightening around his member as if they never wanted go let go “I’m gonna come princess” he moaned and then with a few hard thrusts he spilled himself inside you, painting your walls with his cum.

Your worn out, sweaty bodies stayed still. Trying to recover. Satoru refused to remove himself from inside you.. Not yet, he wanted to savor this moment, the intimacy and the love he felt.

You didn’t protest, instead you did what you used to do back when you both were still together. Cradling his head between your breasts you stroked his hair, lulling you both to sleep.

Your last coherent though before sleep claimed you being… That once again… you fell for it.

Guilt settled in.

————-> Chapter 11

-

Tags:

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

@tampon-earrings

#jjkgojo #gojo angst #gojo x you #jjk #geto x y/n #gojo saturo x reader #jjk suguru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #softdomgojo #Youtube

[brushstrokesapocalyptic]

it’s time for the “overanalyzing one-off lines” show!

so the very first thing magnus says when he sees pit in chapter 2 of kid icarus: uprising is as follows:

“Well, I didn’t expect to see an angel here. Hope this doesn’t mean I’ve kicked the bucket.”

now, i’m not sure if you’re aware, but that’s a really weird thing for someone to say, and it’s even more weird that no one comments on it. pit and palutena go on talking about unrelated things, as if that’s a totally normal and expected thing for magnus to say.

now, if you’re like me, you probably also didn’t really react to this line the first few times you saw it. it’s the second chapter, kiu has a lot of slightly-odd lines which turn out to be foreshadowing. me, personally? my first thought was “oh, i guess angels are probably associated with escorting the dead to the afterlife,“ and then i moved on.

they’re not, though. that’s what reapers do. and there’s no way humans have these two races mixed up. just fucking look at them.

do they look anything alike to you??? no. they don’t. which raises the question of why, exactly, magnus said that.

now, we don’t know a lot about angels as a whole. pit (and by extension dark pit) is emphatically not the gold standard of angeldom. we can assume he looks fairly ordinary for an angel, seeing as no one has trouble identifying him as such. beyond that, though, a lot of what we know about angels comes from what pit isn’t. for starters, he can’t fly. and there’s something else, too, but i’ll get to that later.

before that, though, i’m gonna go through the various unsubstantiated comments made by people with a dubious level of authority on the subject. (incidentally, i sourced these screenshots from the wiki— much more convenient than trying to dig through youtube for every single random conversation.)

without any further ado! let’s get into it!

Angels as Messengers

Gaol: Aw, Palutena’s little messenger boy. And Magnus, it’s always a pleasure. (src)

in the specific context of overanalyzing magnus’s first line, this is an important sentence to pick out. magnus and gaol are both humans, both with presumably a fairly similar history as mercenaries up until gaol got stuffed in a suit of armor. but while magnus makes a weird comment about death, gaol calls pit a messenger.

and pit agrees with her!

Viridi: I wish I had an angel to do my bidding. It’s like having an intern.

Pit: I’m not an intern. I’m a messenger of the gods!

Viridi: Poor Pit. Don't you know that the definition of angel is "errand spirit"? (src)

this particular conversation is the most insight we get into angels as a whole, i think. viridi thinks of angels as like divine interns, there to do little tasks for gods, and palutena doesn’t exactly disagree with her. pit says they’re specifically messengers, which lines up with biblical mythology. i could see the traditional role of angels in the world of KI being exactly that, showing up to tell the humans what the gods have to say because the gods themselves are too busy being petty jerks to do it themselves.

The Angel’s Code of Conduct

Magnus: You go in fully dressed? Don't you at least want to change into a...swimming tunic or something?

Pit: Oh, no no no! The angel's code of conduct says that we must always be ready for duty.

Magnus: I guess you wouldn't be an angel if you didn't do things by the book. (src)

Pit: Hey! You know the angel's code of conduct! I need to be prepared at all times! (src)

another random little thing is the angel’s code of conduct. without a larger sample size, we can’t know if it’s a real thing or just an excuse to save on laundry, but apparently it’s against the rules to not be on call at all times. in pit’s case, the duty he has to be ready for is doing palutena’s dirty work, but it can easily mean just about anything— including, of course, being a messenger.

No Warrior

Chariot Master: But you are no warrior, angel. Tell me, why do you fight?

Pit: I fight for Lady Palutena. And I fight for the people under her protection!

Chariot Master: That's not reason enough for an angel. (src)

remember how i said there was something else weird about pit? the chariot master seems to think angels aren’t very prone to battle— or perhaps even that they’re actively opposed to it. this lines up well with the idea that they’re supposed to be messengers, peaceful go-betweens for gods and mortals. this does not line up well with pit, the adorable weapon of mass destruction.

and it also does absolutely nothing to explain the question driving the whole existence of this post.

you know what does kinda lean towards an explanation?

No Other Angels

Pit: Do all gods have their own angels, like you have me?

Palutena: No, I don't think that's necessarily the case. (src)

i said before that the Intern Pit conversation had the most illuminating information on angels. this is what i was actually referring to. on its own, it’s pretty innocuous, but it’s just as weird as the magnus line. shouldn’t pit know about other angels, seeing as he is one himself? but he doesn’t know if there are other angels.

the only angels we ever see are him and his clone. no one ever directly references the existence of other angels, they only make general statements about what angels as a whole are like— statements which clearly don’t apply to pit, meaning they’re not just extrapolating based on the one angel that definitely does exist.

the one time someone does comment on the hypothetical existence of other angels, palutena gives a vague answer to the tune of “no,” the topic is changed, and no one brings it up again.

let’s go over everything i’ve established about angels up to this point. they can fly, they’re peaceful messengers of the gods, and pit is the only one that seems to exist as of the start of KIU.

it should be pretty obvious at this point what answer i’m dancing around, if it wasn’t obvious from the start. pit is the only angel around because all the other ones are dead. the reason why magnus said what he did is that his thought process went something like this:

See an angel.

Think “Aren’t angels extinct? Is that a ghost? Am I a ghost? I sure hope not.“

Make a quip about that.

Move on with his life, because he isn’t dead and evidently neither is this guy.

i’m not gonna pretend i went into this post with the intent of any other conclusion to that mystery. anyone who’s bothered glancing over a plot summary for the original kid icarus can draw that conclusion. it’s certainly what i did, reinforced by fics by people who had the same thought!

the truth, however, is that this was all a trick to get you to read my analysis of the theoretical nature of angels as a race. now that you’re invested, i’m going to dramatically throw aside my cape and reveal my TRUE FORM: telling people that fandom consensus is wrong, and my ideas are cooler and better than everyone else’s and you should all throw roses at my feet and bow before your king.

(or just, y’know, take it as the subjective analysis that it is. whatever floats your boat.)

Hot Takes

the original kid icarus does not actually tell you about angels going extinct. here’s the wiki article with the full text of the backstory, just for convenience, so you know what i’m on about for the rest of this post.

so, the part of the story that i think gets misinterpreted is this part about palutena’s army.

Medusa led a surprise attack on Palutena's army which could barely fend off the attack. Palutena's army suffered major losses and was heavily defeated in the final battle.

specifically, i think a lot of people interpret said army as having been made up at least partly of angels. sure, in the actual game it consists entirely of centurions, but you have to take old NES games with a grain of salt. i know i don’t buy for a second that pit was part of palutena’s guard before the original game (he was just too goddamn young), there’s nothing wrong with reinterpreting things.

recall everything i established about angels already, though. this is the hot official lore, from the game everyone knows and loves. angels are messengers, and if the chariot master is to be believed, never warriors. pit is an outlier. palutena’s army consists of centurions, not angels. if medusa wiped them out, it wasn’t because they were fighting for palutena.

(and honestly, i don’t think angels are necessarily associated with palutena exclusively. sure, she’s got the wing imagery, and she’s got the one known surviving angel working for her, at least up until pittoo is born. but angels are messengers of the gods, not messengers of palutena. again, pit is an outlier.)

which all brings us to the real question of this post.

what the FUCK happened to all the other angels? why is there only pit? why does magnus act surprised to see a messenger of the gods, and make a quip about being dead, if not because angels are otherwise extinct?! WHO KILLED THEM, AND WHY?!

thus concludes the “over analyzing one-off lines“ show. see you next, uh, maybe at some point if i feel like it!

(also another thought i had but couldn’t find room to fit it in properly: the gods don’t really act like angels are all extinct, but i feel like that can be explained through the sheer scale of a god’s lifespan. if we assume they were wiped out sometime around the original kid icarus (even if not as palutena’s army) then that’s a whole twenty-five years. that’s a long time for us humans, but for a god, that might as well be last tuesday. “yeah, i know what angels are like. sure wish i could have one. too bad palutena’s got a monopoly on the one single angel that medusa didn’t manage to wreck.”)

#kid icarus #kid icarus uprising #the things i think of at five am #i am just yelling and spewing thoughts and theories and headcanons #if anyone has their own thoughts to add go right ahead i am dying to know whether or not i'm actually breaking new ground with all this #or if there's some vital lore i missed #or anything like that #i am OPEN for CONVERSATION

[the-evil-duckling]

And now that Pride Month's over, Let's Talk About Pratchett.

The companies have taken down their flags. The marches and rallies are fading away. Rainbow colours are melting back into grayscale. And now that all the hubbub is dying down, let's talk about an author who did perhaps more than any other to introduce gender-and-sexual minorities to the public (and not just as a cute oddity to be cooed at from a distance, either).

Let's talk about an author whose works are perhaps the most representative, hard-hitting, and wholesome, in all of well-written English literature.

Let's talk about Pratchett.

Before we dive into the lovely little nitty-gritties, I want to just take a quick look at what Pratchett's writing really is, and what makes it so very exceptional. It's pretty simple, really.

He's funny.

That's the "secret" formula to Terry Pratchett's success across the global; he's funny everywhere, everywhen, across multiple generations and multiple decades and multiple geopolitical borders. You don't have to read Discworld with a lot of effort, thinking deeply after every line about the message the author is trying to convey. You don't have to analyze every character and every situation to see how the author is sculpting a crystal-clear mirror and holding it up to the face of Society. When I'm feeling down (cause college and life and pressure and dreams) and wanna start gouging out my forearms with my nails, I can just curl with one of my comfort books (like Men At Arms, or Unseen Academicals) and laugh and chuckle and just feel better. You can just enjoy it.

Now, I think, I can get to the fun stuff; analysing all of my favourite characters and the roles that they represent in mirroring Pratchett's view of People. (I should mention at this point that I am mainly going to be focussing on the Sam Vimes novels, and what I will be writing are my own thoughts and opinions. Anyone who knows more - or has just read/interpreted the books differently - is of course free to add their own musings.)

Fred Colon: Sergeant Colon is that rarest and yet most typical of things: Fred Colon is an ordinary person. He is no hero, or genius, or leader. He is not evil or even mildly malicious. And that is the very point that needs to be understood. People (most people) are not deliberately evil; they are, on the whole, fairly decent people who treat their friends well and try not to make enemies. It is just... petty selfishness, petty prejudices, petty apathy... all summated in every single member of the populace, and suddenly everyone knows that dwarfs are just money-grubbing bastards who'd bite your kneecaps off for a copper coin and trolls are dumber than the rocks they're made off but they'll as soon smash you to pulp as look at you and you can't trust a vampire cause they're too dead to be alive and-

Carrot Ironfoundersson: Captain Carrot is a cliché. Captain Carrot is a cliché wrapped inside a trope hidden in a Mary Sue, all turned on its head. Captain Carrot, rightful heir to the throne of Ankh, leader of all manner of beings, man who once beat Detritus in a fistfight... is not the hero of this story. In any other series, the story would have been of a brave new cop (who is also the king) standing up to the corruption and lawlessness of the Patrician while taking advice from his grizzled old half-drunk commander who dies four chapters into the first book with some vaguely portentous words that the hero remembers at the very last minute to give him the tools/strength/motivation necessary to keep fighting. But this is Pratchett. And the hero of the story, if there is one, is very much the grizzled old commander. Two other points have also always struck me about Carrot. The first is the matter of identity. Biologically, Carrot is very much a human, but in all other ways that matter he is entirely a dwarf - his name is Kzad-bhat, and even the deep-down dwarfs do not question his dwarfishness - and yet that does make him any less a human. In this is reflected the multiplicity of identity (not just of gender, which is what most people immediately jump to, but all identities). The second point is of the relationship between Carrot and Angua, which seemed to me a representation of a healthy dom/sub relationship. Unlike the twisted shit we find on ao3 (and in some published books that I don't feel that I need to name), Angua is at no point portrayed as lesser, weaker, incapable, dependent, or deferent. She is her own person, and the two of them just happen to have this kind of chemistry.

Samuel Vimes: Ahhhh. His Grace, His Excellency, The First Duke of Ankh, Blackboard Monitor Samuel Vimes, Commander of the City Watch. The protagonist, if not quite the hero, of the series. He is not perfect, not even close. He is casually discriminatory (species-ist?) and thoughtless in most of what he says. his saving graces are that his discrimination is universally applied at all beings living and dead, and that he has never, not even once, allowed his personal feelings of prejudice stand in the way of justice (which is at times, all that separates him from Fred Colon). Does that mean that it's all okay, and everything is now fine and dandy and hunky-dory? No. Not even fucking close. Words matter and actions matter and even how you feel deep inside - all of it matters. Prejudice is prejudice, and it is always wrong. there are no mitigating circumstances, no 'yes, but...' that can make it acceptable. But only an idealistic idiot would say that it is not better than the alternative. And this is the reason that Vimes is one of my favourite protagonists; he is not a hero. He is real.

Leonard of Quirm: A parody of the public perception of a genius (perhaps of Roundworld's Tesla and da Vinci), I have loved Leonard as a character ever since I realised he was gay. Allow me to elaborate. As I was recently re-reading Jingo, I noticed a line that went something like 'He started drawing how The-Going-Under-The-water-Safely-Device could be improved, piloted by a muscular man who was not overdressed'. And just like that, a couple dozen other off-hand comments slotted into place and I realized the homosexual truth. And I love this portrayal of homosexuality, because most books or movies or tv shows or fanfictions with a gay MC (or even sidekick) tend to have a storyline roughly equivalent to 'hey my name is [insert name here] and I'm GAY and I have a destiny to save the world and my family and my GAY boyfriend whom I'm dating cause I'm GAY and before I go outside I have to pick my outfit really carefully better go with salmon-rose-flutter pink cause I'm GAY and now I'm outside and I'm not very popular and this is my tragic backstory cause a lot of people don't like me cause I'm GAY and-' Yeah. This is not good writing. By barely mentioning anything, Pratchett somehow still managed to emphasise that a) homosexuality is one of your identities, not all of them and b) just because a story has a character who is gay doesn't mean that the story becomes about a character being gay.

Trev Likely: One sentence. Just one sentence. 'Hating people was too much work.'

If you actually made it this far, you are obliged to reblog. I'm sorry, but I don't make the rules. (Please?)

#terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #discworld #pride month #lgbt pride #queer pride #humour #men at arms #unseen academicals #fred colon #sergeant colon #philosophy #captain carrot #carrot ironfoundersson #ankh morpork #cliches #angua von uberwald #sergeant angua #dom/sub #sam vimes #samuel vimes #commander vimes #leonard of quirm #trev likely #jingo #well this was a long one

[sub-danny]

We met with Laszlo so I needed to ask something about it.

Laszlo forcing himself to keep together as you are in the same room and he wants to make you proud and earn is rightful prize

I added some other things into this drabble such as overstimulation and of course because you sent me the original Laszlo mummy kink request I had to include it in here as well!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: f!reader, sub!Laszlo, handjobs, overstimulation, mummy kink

When Laszlo was arguing for his court cases he was in his prime. He had gained the reputation for being one of the most likely Alienists to get people out of the death sentence or being locked up, if he chooses to take on your case. When criminals were faced with the book they would try everything to get him to take their case on. But Laszlo only chooses the cases of those he deemed needed his help, who shouldn’t be judged for their crime because they didn’t mean for it to happen or that they were in the right for committing it. Or if he found he wanted to study them and deemed them as mentally insane.

There was however another reason as to why Laszlo was always so keen in court, how he would do everything he could to help his defendant and that might be down to how his lovely wife would usually sit in on the court and watch how the trial would go down.

Throughout this trial, Laszlo’s eyes couldn’t help but continuously flicker over to where you sat, but they darted away the moment he feared you might spot him glancing over to you. You always kept your face so passive Laszlo had a hard time trying to analyze and figure out what you were thinking, and what was supposed to be one of his best skills! When he stood up and talked, arguing against what most of the prosecutors claimed about his client, he could feel all the eyes in the room look at him, he could feel their judgemental stares, he knew what they thought of him but he only cared about one opinion in that room.

He had to be a good boy for you. If he won the case today then he was a good boy. If he lost it then he would be a bad boy and you had to punish him accordingly. He needed to be a good boy for you today and he had to make you proud in order for you to reward him. But the more he thought about his potential reward tonight for winning the case, the more aroused he became. As he sat down to briefly take a break as the prosecutor pulled out some more evidence, horror dawned on him as he felt the way his slacks tightened around him, and as he looked down dread filled him as he saw the slight tent within his trousers.

Just the mere presence and thought of you was apparently all Laszlo needed to feel arousal surge within him. With his hand, he tried to push it back down but the feeling of the material being pushed against his aching cock only stimulated the pleasure for him and he had to swallow down a moan that was threatening to prise its way out of his throat.

When it was Laszlo’s turn to stand up again he hovered his weak arm over his crotch in a casual way, hoping no one would take notice of the creases now within it yet his voice sounded like it was straining and wobbling, and panic flicked through him that as you watched him, you might have caught on to what he was struggling with. He didn’t dare imagine what you might do to him if you figured out how hard he got during a court case with lots of other people surrounding the two of you.

He was fearful now with his distraction he would lose this court case, that he wouldn’t be able to pull through and yet remarkably, the defendant was excused of his crime as long as Laszlo took him into his employment. Hearing the verdict made Laszlo extremely happy knowing he wouldn’t be punished today, instead rewarded but still he needed to get home with you without you realising how turned on he was yet. This proved hard as you two rode in the calash opposite each other. He placed his hands in front of his crotch pretending to just rest them there but it wasn’t very convincing of him.

Finally, you two got home and were left within each other’s companies, anticipating what was to come next. He dared not say a word, instead his eyes lingering all over your body as you slowly stepped towards him, placing your hand upon his chest to feel the way it rose with every deep breath in. The touch was intimate and sparked warmth within Laszlo, especially when you trailed your fingers up to his beard, stroking his neck upwards and then finally placing your finger under his chin.

“You were a good boy today Laszlo weren’t you?”

He didn’t dare speak, only nod.

“You made me very proud today.”

The corners of his lips twitched up into a smile as his heart fluttered from his words. Knowing you were proud of him was one of the best feelings he could experience.

“And yet…” you trail off, letting your eyes which were staring into Laszlo’s now drop to his lips. “I couldn’t help but notice you became quite excited near the end.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, your other hand reached forward and cupped Laszlo’s slacks, palming his cock through the thin material. The sensation instantly made his hips twitch, his cock thinking before his mind could. He knew that down there he had started to leak pre-cum which was dripping onto his thighs making him grimace slightly.

“I-I’m sorry mummy,” he chocked out, though it felt like his throat was constricting from the sobs that threatened to fall from his lips, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay darling,” you tell him, giving his crotch a tighter squeeze making him hiss, “It makes me happy to know how much you enjoy my company. You won the case, you’ve earned your reward, but I’m afraid I can’t let you get away without a punishment fully.”

Finally, you pulled your hand away from him again and this time a sob truly did leave his lips as he screwed his eyes shut, upset from the sudden lack of friction and embarrassed at how submissive he had become.

Your hands moved to his shoulder and slowly you pushed him back, guiding him until his legs hit the sofa within the living room to which you forced him to collapse back onto it. The breath was knocked out of him for a moment as his back laid down upon the sofa, and while he was briefly stunned you grasped his ankle, lifting it up and putting it behind the back of the sofa while his other leg dangled off the side, ensuring that he was nicely spread open for you. Because of his age, there was a strain on his thigh muscles to keep his legs so wide open and he knew he would be sore after but he could deal with that in order to please you.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his slacks until you finally pried them open. Tugging them down slightly you watched how his cock was finally freed from its confinments. It bobbed up, slapping his chest with excitement which also caused a few beads of pre-cum to spill from the tip.

“So needy for me,” you mutter, really to yourself but Laszlo heard you and quickly moaned, “Yes” desperately trying to suppress the urge to buck his hips up into the air. Now out of its confinements he ached for friction, something to relieve him of the increasing pressure building up inside of his cock as it hardens and luckily for him you granted him relief.

Your hand wrapped around the warm skin of his cock, and slowly started to pump it, reaching all the way down to his ball sack before pulling your hand up to his tip, to brush your thumb along the tip and side more pre-cum down him to make your movements easier. You could feel the way he started to pulse in your hand, the veins which trailed down his cock pushing against the thin skin.

More moans found their way out of Laszlo’s throat as his face scrunched up from pleasure. His jaw became slack as his mind was flooded in a lustful cloud, all other thoughts and worries leaving his mind. Soon his hips started to move on their own, thrusting his cock into your hand as you pumped him, desperate for more speed. Though his leg was being held behind the sofa it began to shake as he felt his pleasure mounting within him, making him sweat. A few curses in German left his throat as he groaned and let his head fall back on the sofa. His back arched as his balls finally constricted and with one loud groan he finally came all over your hands, rods of cum squirting out of him and landing upon his new, expensive suit. He doesn’t seem to mind at the moment though as all he could do was lie back and let his hips twitch in your hand as the last few squirts of cum stream down his tip and onto your hand.

To his horror, however, you don’t stop moving your hand.

When the last of his pleasure haze left him, the sudden pain of overstimulation strikes him, causing his whole body to suddenly tense up. His head shot up to stare at you wide-eyed, mouth slack in surprise as you pumped his now soft cock. A whimper tears from his throat as his eyes swarm with tears at the stinging pain as you continued to move your hand quickly up and down his shaft, faster now than before.

“Y/n, please, it hurts” he finally is able to cry out, his chest heaving from the deep breaths he is having to take to dull the pain in his cock. His thighs twitched again as more pleas leave his lips, desperately looking at you, but you just shook your head, delivering a devilish smirk to him.

“You were the one who became so excited at just the meet thought of your reward, I am simply giving you the pleasure you craved.”

He opened his mouth again to argue against you but you cut him off, “There’s no use speaking Laszlo, for I won’t let you go until I have milked you dry, until you are too fucked out to even think anymore, only thrust your hips like a good little boy.”

Laszlo cried out at your words realising just how far you were going to push him. It was too much for a man of his age, he wasn’t young he couldn’t keep cumming. And yet though he shook his head and continue you plead with you, you both could feel how his cock started to become hard in your hand again.

He bit his lip harshly and threw his head back as the pain of the overstimulation lead to pleasure for him again. His throat wanted to cry out from the pleasure but his embarrassment from how good he was feeling tried to prevent it. However, all it took was for you to brush your thumb over his sensitive tip, and press down on it and his whole body was thrashing as he cried out. Almost as quickly as last time, he was brought to the edge of his climax. You take his cock a slight tug and that was all it took for him to lose it again, his cock twitching within his palm as his hips violently twitched forward. Though it was less than last time his cock still pumped out more streams of cum all over you and him but his mind was so swarmed in an even intenser pleasure than from his last orgasm he didn’t even notice.

His whole body was shaking for at least three minutes as finally tears started to flow from his eyes from the intensity of the climax. He wasn’t even aware now of the pitiful gasps and moans that left his lips. All he was aware of was how your hand was still moving on his cock and how much it hurt and pleasured him.

#laszlo kriezler #sub!laszlo #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler smut #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #subdanielbrühl

[stylesberries]

Right Choice

Summary: Harry has a moustache now and you want to get it sticky.

Genre(s): pure smut

Word Count: 3.0k

Warning(s): swearings, sexual intercourse, sticky moustache.

A three-month quarantine resulted in a long ass list of awful consequences, starting from an economic fall to a rise in unemployment. Living this reality was depressing. It was hard to stay positive when people around were losing their jobs and being separated from their loved ones. You and Harry luckily got to quarantine together, as you were both peacefully cuddling in Los Angeles when it was announced that the borders are closing.

Being together in a closed space for so long took a toll on the relationships of many couples. Every day you heard people here and there getting divorces and breaking up because of the fact that they couldn’t stand each other for so long. Thankfully, as Harry was doing PR before the quarantine and overall gets to spend little to no time with you when he’s working, you were more than happy to be stuck together.

Your relationship had already felt like marriage before, but now you were thrown into a complete married life simulator.

You loved it.

You were waking up to your boyfriend showering you with kisses every day, and deep inside you knew that you have to make sure your skin remembers every touch and every kiss of his for the times when he’s away.

Your days were full of baking cookies, playing Scrabble, having sex in every room of the house, and, of course, trying out new things when it comes to your appearance.

You would keep debating on cutting your bangs at least six times a day, to a point where you had to change your lock screen to a picture of you with awful photoshopped bangs, just to fight off the constant desire to cut your hair.

Harry, on the other hand, left his hair alone for a while and would let you cut his hair from time to time when it would get too out of control, making it hard for him to tame it.

While you were busy watching a tutorial on how to cut hair, only half an hour into the process, Harry was staring into a mirror holding the hair you already cut off up to his upper lip.

“Baby,” Harry called.

Despite the fact that you were standing right next to his chair, all of your attention was on the tutorial, so you didn’t hear him calling out for you.

“Babeee.” He whined this time, desperately trying to get you to pay attention to him.

“Huh? What? Sorry, love, what were you saying?” You pulled yourself from the screen of your phone and looked up to Harry’s reflection in your bathroom mirror.

He was sitting in a chair, which you carried to your bathroom from the kitchen, with your raincoat wrapped around his upper body, to make sure none of the little hairs end up in his shirt, tickling him for the rest of his life. You noticed how he was holding up the short hair pieces you had just cut off up to his face.

“Whatcha think? Should I shave off the sides?”

You knew he was referring to his beard, which you grew to love. Although in the beginning you weren’t used to the feeling of prickly skin on yours when you kissed, with the time you got used to razor burns and started enjoying the feeling of his bearded chin in the crook of your neck whenever you were cuddling. However, you weren’t sure if you enjoyed that or seeing his beard wet of your juices every time he went down on you more.

Letting yourself get a bit too carries away with your fantasies, you looked back into his eyes, processing his question properly this time.

“The sides only? Into a moustache you mean?,” you questioned.

“Yeah. I was thinking that if I’ll be home for a while, why not try anything new with the facial hair, now that I can grow a bit more than a couple of hairs here and there?” Harry smiled at you, trying to analyze your facial expression to figure out what you think about his idea.

You weren’t particularly against it; you’ve just never been too into moustaches. Although you knew your English curly was right - this was just the best time to do this, if he wants to try it and see.

Your hand went to reach his and to grab a couple of hair pieces to bring them up to his upper lip. Placing the hair in a moustache shape you looked down at him, awaiting his judgement.

“Like this, baby?” you asked.

He considered the shape you suggested and let his hand rise to yours over his face. He pulled on the hairs on the two ends of the ‘moustache’ and looked back to his reflection. Harry’s gaze fell upon your face right after, asking for your opinion on his alteration.

“I think it would look cute.” Never before had you though that your boyfriend would have a moustache, as you were never really a fan of how they looked. However, you never really imagine that you would be able to call Mr. Harry Styles himself your boyfriend, and we all know that this man, sitting in front of you, can make anything look good.

“Really? Are y’sure it won’t look weird and all?” he asked feeling a bit conscious over the change.

“Honey, first of all - everything looks amazing on you, okay? And I am completely serious. Secondly, if you hate it, you can always shave it off, right?” You placed your hands on his shoulders, still talking to him while looking into his reflection’s eyes.

Harry blushed at your compliment and reclined back into the chair, pushing his head back to you and puckering his lips, awaiting your kiss. You noticed the green eyes piercing yours from below and his bright pink lips inviting yours. You bent slightly to reach his lips with yours. As you pulled away, Harry got up and covered the sides of his beard with his hands and stared intently in the mirror once again.

“I think you’ll look hot. Not that you don’t already look hot.” You pressed a kiss on his back and sneaked your hands under the raincoat and his shirt, pressing them against his bare chest.

“I’m doing it then?” He hesitated and reached for his shaving cream and razor, looking for a sign of approval from you before applying it.

“I’m all for it, so it’s up to you.” Harry nodded and started applying the shaving cream onto his cheeks.

“Just know that you have to eat me out whenever you’re done here because I’m dripping,” you casually announced, as you pulled your hands from under his shirt to walk out of the bathroom, leaving him standing with shaving cream in his beard. Walking out of the bathroom, you could see his jaw drop through your peripheral vision.

“Fuck, Y/N...” he groaned.

That’s what he gets for being so fucking hot.

Here you were standing in the kitchen, making yourself some tea to pass the time while Harry was busy shaving. You tried to distract yourself from the constant pulsating in your lower stomach by scrolling through Instagram, not really paying attention to the content of the feed.

You were so focused on the mindless scrolling that you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps coming your way from outside the kitchen.

“Y/N,” Harry breathed heavily, as he walked closer to you from the back.

You turned around, finally noticing his presence. Let’s just say - he was a sight to see. The moment you saw his beard newly shaven, except for the area above his lips, making him look like he just came from the 70s, you felt your juices starting to coat your thighs right there and then.

“Fuck,” you thought.

Harry, knowing you inside out, in every meaning of that phrase, could see the lust filling your eyes and your pupils dilating.

“Like it, huh, baby?” He walked right up to your heated self.

Even though your mind was clouded with lust, you could still see his erection, as he was making his way towards you.

“Harry fucking Styles, if you keep teasing me I will ki—.” The end of the sentence ended up in Harry’s mouth, as he pushed his lips against yours full of need.

You could feel the moustache prickle the top of your lip.

You loved every second of it.

Harry pulled himself from you and pushed you up to sit on the counter.

“I’ll be getting t’work now if you don’t mind.” He didn’t even look up at you for approval, getting down on his knees in front of the counter.

Next thing you knew - he was pulling your pants off of your legs.

“Hold onto somethin’, baby.”

You reached for the corner of the cupboard, waiting for Harry to take some action.

With one harsh pull, your pants went flying away from both of you, landing next to the kitchen table.

“Fuck, Y/N, I can smell y’from here. Who made y’so wet, baby? Was it me? Or the moustache, huh?” A loud moan left your mouth to answer his question.

“What do you want me to m’do, love? Where d’you want me?” He started dragging the tip of his nose along your legs, starting from your ankles and going up from there. The thick hairs below his nose pricked the soft skin of your inner thighs and you couldn’t keep yourself from pushing your hands through his half-cut curls and pulling him further into your thighs.

“H, fuck, it feels so good.” You closed your eyes, as you felt him move his head to the other leg, neglecting the place where you craved him the most.

“Answer m’questions.” He calmly spoke into your knee; the movement of his lips made you squirm.

“I-I want you on me.” You felt your blood rush to your cheeks, even though you weren’t at all specific.

“I am on you.” He teased you, as his lips started kissing your ankles.

“Not there...” You whined as he kept himself away from your core.

“Where then, sweetheart? Don’t think I understand.” He looked up at you with his chin pressed against your inner thigh once again, flashing you the most innocent look you’ve seen. You would’ve fallen for it if you didn’t know him so well.

Normally, you would’ve been stubborn and wouldn’t have given in to his teasing, but you were so wet that you couldn’t wait any longer.

“I want you...on my pussy.” You blushed even harder, feeling your ears getting hot.

Harry looked up from your thighs and gave you a smile.

“Anything you say, my dear. See - that wasn’t s’hard.” He smirked up at you, starting to pull on your underwear.

At this point you were long gone, finally getting what you’ve been asking for this whole time. You paid his teasings no mind, as you felt your underwear being slowly pulled down your legs, eventually joining the pants on the floor.

“Ugh, fuck. Look at m’girl. You’re glistening with cum, sweetheart.” He was ready to dive right into his favorite meal of the day, spreading your legs before him.

Unfortunately, instead of going straight to where you wanted him, he left kisses along your lower stomach.

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and took the matter into your own hands. Quite literally.

You placed your hands back into your tease-of-a-boyfriend’s hair and pushed his head down into your pussy, feeling the tip of his nose brush against your folds.

“Fuck, that’s right, Y/N. Show me how much y’need me. Come on. Use me, honey.”

You didn’t expect him to be so turned on by your action, but the words following were the ones that left you hyperventilating.

“I’ll stay here,” He moved slightly away from your entrance. “And you,” he continued. “You will fuck m’face. Get m’face all wet with your juices.”

Your eyes rolled back as you felt his words echo in your head.

“I need you,” was all you could blurt out.

“Take me then.”

You couldn’t keep yourself from pushing your pussy against his face, nor did you want to.

As you started rapidly and desperately moving your hips against his mouth, nose, and his new moustache, you felt the pleasure you’ve never before experienced.

You could feel Harry was enjoying it as well, if not more than you did if that was possible. He shut his eyes close in pleasure and let you use his face to get off.

You could feel him press his face harder against your opening, each time your hips moved to meet him.

“God, H. You feel so good against my pussy. Fuck it feels so good.” You needed him to know how good he was making you feel, without even having to do much.

You felt him smile into your entrance, and his moustache lightly grazes your clit.

“Oh my God, Harry. Do that again, please.” You tried pushing your hips lower to experience the feeling again.

You were lucky to see Harry contribute to the teamwork without teasing you for once. He lifted his head up to let the thick hairs meet the surface of your sensitive spot.

It hurt. It was too sensitive, and you loved every second of it. You felt a familiar rush and fluttering in your lower stomach.

“Already?” You thought. You had never felt an orgasm coming this fast before.

Harry kept bowing his head onto your pussy, this time adding his tongue. Instead of playing with you a bit as he usually did in the beginning, he went straight to your vagina, pushing the tip of his tongue inside of you, which caught you by surprise. You forgot all the letters and words and couldn’t make a single sound except helpless whimpering, moaning, and calling out for your boyfriend to fuck you harder.

Harry was so focused on getting you to cum that he didn’t make a sound either, except groaning into you from now and then, not being able to hide the fact that he was having the time of his life.

“H-Harry.” You weakly whimpered.

He couldn’t hear you. The sounds of your wetness, his lips smacking as he sucked on your clit between going back and forth fucking you with his tongue and your sweet moans were ringing in his ears.

“Har,” you moaned his name louder, this time catching his attention. He kept fucking you with his tongue while rising his eyes up at you to let you know he was listening.

“I’m gonna cum, don’t stop baby, please don’t stop.” You were begging at this point, letting him know he had to take full control, as you were too out of it to control your body’s movements.

Harry picked up the pace at which his tongue was entering your pussy through your folds. You tried to find anything to hold onto, but the cupboard that you were holding onto before was too smooth, so your hand kept slipping.

You felt the fluttering intensify and your head feeling light. You were so close.

You just needed one last push to get you over the edge.

Harry knew it as well.

He pulled his mouth away from your vagina, quickly replacing it with his fingers before you could start complaining. As he started working his fingers in and out of you, curling them to make sure his finger pads press directly at your sweet spot inside, he got an idea.

Looking up at you with your eyes closed and your mouth agape, so close to your peak, he pressed his mouth a little lower from your clit. This also meant that his moustache found home directly on your clit. Harry didn’t let himself stay still for too long, turning his head from side to side to give you all of the sensations you needed.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m cumming,” was all you could get yourself to say between your screams of his name.

He fucked in and out of you even faster than before, feeling you start to tighten around him, as you did right before you came. Noticing it, he moved his head faster, giving your clit a lick from time to time.

“Harry!” You felt an orgasm hit you. Hard. You felt your body shake in convulsions, as it moved through you. Your senses became even more aware of every touch of his. You felt Harry moan against you. As your mind slowly became more aware of your surroundings, you felt Harry’s fingers slide out of you. Even though your mind was still hazy, you saw him move them up to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Har?” You softly called out for him.

“Here, my beautiful.” He cooed, getting up from his knees, helping you sit up comfortably on the counter, as you were sliding off of it.

“Are you okay, love? Came hard, didn’t you? Feeling alright?” He carefully enveloped you in a hug.

“Mhmmm,” was all you could say, as your mind was still too foggy from the orgasm.

“Oh shit.” Harry cursed under his breath, pulling one of his hands from you.

“What?” You were alert and worried if something bad happened. You followed his eyes down to his pants, confused as ever. Before you saw a wet spot in the front of his pants.

“Came in m’pants.” He blushed a little, feeling embarrassed. He didn’t even have to touch himself.

“But you didn’t even-“

“You’re just s’hot, couldn’t help it.” He explained.

Only now you noticed his moustache. It was completely covered in your juices.

“UGH HARRY COME ON!” You hungrily jumped on him.

The moustache was the right choice.

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles moustache #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles mustache #calm #harry styles fic #harry styles x you

[hyogonokitsune]

longing -- suna rintarou x reader

college!au, tw alcohol use, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of angst, some smut at the end because I can’t fucking help myself 🥴 (oral -- m and f receiving, choking, creampie, cockwarming hnnff)

11,600 words

--

“Hey, ‘Samu, I gotta go lie down.” You had to practically yell to hear yourself over the music blaring from the speakers. Osamu was less than two feet from you, but you might as well have been yelling from a mile away.

“Huh?”

“I said I gotta go—fuck! Where’s your room?” You had to speak directly into his ear to make yourself understood; Osamu leaned in close to respond to you.

You hadn’t had that much to drink, but the atmosphere of the party was wearing you down. The insanely loud music and the crush of so many sweaty bodies were starting to give you a headache, and you were in desperate need of a quiet place to recharge. Most of the people were crowded into the living areas of the house, so you decided to escape to your friend’s upstairs bedroom to catch your breath.

You shut his door behind you, muffling the sounds of the party downstairs, and laid down on the bed, closing your eyes. Even here, you could feel the bass pounding in your head.

The door opened then, but when you lifted your head to look, it wasn’t Osamu standing in the room. You groaned; you definitely were not in the mood to deal with a random guy.

“Can I help you?” you asked in a hard voice, sitting up to look at him better.

“Can I help you?” he replied, utterly deadpan. He walked over to the desk in the corner and plugged his phone into a charger, his back facing you. “You’re in my room.”

“What? This is Osamu’s room.”

“’Samu’s room is the last door on the left. This is the last one on the right.” He turned around to look at you, his expression indifferent.

Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake, quickly hopping off his bed. “I’m so sorry! I must have misheard him. I just needed to get away from there,” you explained, gesturing towards the door.

He smirked at you. “Too much to drink?”

“No, there are just too many people down there, felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

His expression softened at your words. “Yeah, that’s why I came up here, too.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” you said, moving towards the door.

“You’re Osamu and Atsumu’s friend, right?” he said, stopping you. “They said one of their old friends was gonna come over tonight.”

Your hand dropped from the doorknob as you nodded, telling him your name.

“I’m Suna,” he said.

“Oh! You went to high school with them, right? They’ve told me about you.”

“Nothing good, I bet,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin.

“Almost all good things,” you responded truthfully.

“’Almost’”, he repeated, a low laugh escaping him. Suna watched you for a moment, looking as if he was thinking about something. “You can hang out here, if you want,” he said, motioning for you to sit back on the bed as he pulled out his desk chair. “As long as you don’t puke on anything.”

“I told you, I didn’t drink that much!” you huffed, but you sat down all the same. You had wanted to get away from all the noisy people downstairs, but this guy seemed laidback enough that he wouldn’t make your headache worse; besides, you were interested in talking to someone who had known the twins in high school.

Suna put on a playlist from his phone, setting the volume just loud enough to block out the house music blasting from downstairs. “You’ve known them a while, yeah?”

You nodded. “Since we were kids, but I didn’t go to Inarizaki with them.”

“Good call.”

“They’re not that bad!” you laughed. “Don’t tell them this, but I actually missed seeing them every day, so it’s nice that we ended up going to the same university.”

“Maybe I will tell them that, then they’ll spend more time harassing you instead of me.”

“Don’t you dare.”

You both laughed then, before falling into an easy silence. You shifted to get more comfortable on his bed, crossing your legs underneath you.

“Do you not like parties?” you asked.

“They’re alright,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m not too crazy about having ten thousand strangers in my house, though.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding your head. “Yeah, what’s fun about having random drunk people sweating all over you? I’d rather just hang out with a few friends, ya know?”

He snorted. “Hopefully it’ll be more like that in the future, but Atsumu really wanted to throw a big party for the start of the semester.”

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. “He just wanted to introduce himself to as many girls as possible.”

“Yeah, that was his not-so-secret motive.”

There was another pause. Suna scrolled through his phone, searching for something.

“You wanna see some embarrassing photos of the twins?”

“Yes, absolutely I do.”

He grinned, unplugging his phone to come sit next to you on the bed. He leaned in close, tilting his screen so you could see it. “Oh, here’s a good one,” he said, trying to suppress a smile as he showed you a picture of Osamu lying face down on the ground. “He tripped when we were jogging, completely ate shit.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, especially with Atsumu in the foreground holding up a peace sign over his brother’s body.

Most of the photos were of the two of them fighting; having grown up with the twins, it was a little comforting to see that they acted the same around their new friends as they always had with you. You felt somewhat nostalgic at the thought.

Suna paused on a closeup photo of Atsumu, his eyes red and puffy as he tried to swat the camera away. “Ah, this was after he got rejected by a girl and he swore he wasn’t crying.”

“Oh my god, I totally remember that day!” you said, laughing hard. “’Samu called me, begging me to talk some sense into ’Tsumu because he kept whining about being turned down.”

“Seriously? God, knowing that makes this so much better,” Suna said, a crooked grin on his face.

“Please don’t tell him I told you that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

He showed you nearly three years’ worth of pictures, pausing at the memorable ones to tell you the stories behind them. It was easy talking to him; you felt able to laugh naturally and relax around him despite being strangers, something that you weren’t able to do with most people you just met.

You didn’t realize how long you and Suna had been talking until you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket; seeing that it was a call from Osamu, you answered it.

“Y/n, did you leave?”

You were surprised by the panicky note in his voice. “No, I told you I was going upstairs.”

“Yeah? Well where the fuck are ya, ’cause I’m standing in my room and you’re not in here.”

“I’m in Suna’s room—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you heard footsteps stomp across the hall and the door flew open.

“What the hell are ya doing in here?” Osamu asked, still holding his phone up to his cheek.

“We’re fucking, obviously,” Suna deadpanned. You giggled, but Osamu didn’t look amused.

“I got the rooms mixed up, ’Samu,” you explained, getting up off the bed. “Suna’s just been telling me about your time in high school.”

“Oh, great,” Osamu said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s late, you want me to walk ya back to your dorm?”

“Can you even walk, or are you too drunk?”

“It’s Atsumu you should be worried about. He fell asleep on the couch downstairs.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” you laughed. You made your way over to Osamu, turning at the door to address Suna. “It was nice talking to you, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He was scrolling through his phone again, only giving you a brief disinterested glance. “Yeah, see you.”

 --

 You poked your head into Osamu’s room, only to find that it was empty. It was a little disappointing; you had been hoping to hang out with him for a bit, since you hadn’t had time to see much of him that week, but if he wasn’t around there was nothing to be done about it. The book you had borrowed from him a few weeks ago was already in your hand, so you placed it on his desk and turned to leave.

Stepping back into the hallway, you noticed that the door across from Osamu’s was open. You casually glanced inside as you walked past, catching Suna’s eye from where he sat in front of his laptop.

“Hey,” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he parroted as he took his headphones off his ears.

“I came by to return a book that Osamu lent me, but I guess he’s not around.”

“I think he’s meeting with a professor.”

“Ah.” You fell silent, and Suna turned his attention back to his laptop. “What are you reading?” you asked.

He looked up again, his expression a little sheepish. “You’re gonna think it’s boring.”

“Try me.”

He sighed. “It’s an article analyzing the influence of Shakespeare’s histories on English nationalism.”

Your face brightened as you spoke. “That was published last week, right? I bookmarked that so I could read it when I got the chance.”

Suna looked surprised at your response, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s pretty interesting so far.”

“I have to say, though, you didn’t strike me as the type to be into that kind of stuff,” you said, just a hint of a teasing tone in your voice.

His expression was blank again as he responded, “Well, I am a literature major.”

“So am I!” you said, smiling at him as you walked into his room and leaned against his desk. “I don’t think we have any classes together, though.”

“It’s a big school.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You paused, thinking of a way to keep the conversation going. “What’s your favorite Shakespeare play?”

Suna glanced up at the ceiling, bottom lip rolling between his teeth as he thought. “I guess I’d say Hamlet. There’s just so much shit going on.”

“Ah, so you love the drama of it all,” you laughed. “I think it’s a tie between Hamlet and Macbeth for me. The twist at the end is just—” you cut yourself off to do a chef’s kiss, prompting Suna to laugh a little.

“‘Macduff was from his mother’s womb untimely ripped’, such a raw line.”

“Yes, exactly!” You were beaming at him, happy to learn that you shared a common interest. Over the course of the last few weeks since you first met Suna, you hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know him, despite him being your best friends’ roommate. He usually kept to himself, and on the few occasions when he joined you and the twins to play video games or get dinner together, he didn’t talk much. He seemed like a naturally reserved person, and as you remembered this, you felt a small pang of guilt for disturbing him.

“Well, I’ll let you finish that article,” you said, getting off his desk and making for the door.

His voice stopped you before you could leave. “You can hang out here until Osamu gets back, if you want.” You turned to face him, a little surprised.

“You sure? I don’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” he said. “I can finish this whenever.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling like this was a rare invitation coming from him. Your heart beat a little faster at the thought.

“Have you ever seen ‘Scotland, PA’?” you asked.

“Nope.”

“It’s an adaptation of Macbeth that takes place in a fast food restaurant.”

“Yeah?” he snorted, a grin appearing on his face. “You wanna watch it?” Before you could answer, he was unplugging his headphones and bringing his laptop over to you.

“Sure, if you want to,” you told him, feeling like you were really lucking out.

Suna sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, patting the spot at his side as he started searching for the movie. You sat down next to him, careful to leave a space between you.

When you watched movies with Atsumu and Osamu, their incessant talking usually got on your nerves pretty quickly, but you found that you didn’t mind listening to Suna’s comments. Watching the film together seemed to make any lingering awkwardness between you two disappear, and before long you were laughing and leaning into each other.

“Oh, I hate this part!” you groaned when you reached a certain scene, turning to press your face into Suna’s shoulder.

“Jesus, that’s fucked up,” he chuckled, grimacing as Duncan’s character fell face-first into a deep fryer.  

“Then why are you laughing!” you said, lifting your head, but you couldn’t keep your own laughter from bubbling up in your chest. Suna gave you a crooked grin, your reaction only making him laugh harder.

“Oi, Sunarin! You got a girl in there or something?” Osamu’s voice floated in through the open door, his head appearing a moment later. His eyes widened when he spotted you. “What the hell are ya doin’ here?”

“Hello to you, too, ’Samu,” you said dryly. “I came here to return your book, but you were too busy to see me, I guess.”

“Took ya long enough,” he grumbled, but he grinned at you all the same. “I’m starving, you wanna grab something to eat?”

“Yeah, later,” you said, turning to look at Suna. “There’s still a bit left in this movie, you wanna finish it now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, a little surprised that you’d postpone hanging out with your friend to finish the movie with him.

“Ugh, fiiiine,” Osamu groaned, rolling his eyes at you, “guess I’ll go shower, then. But don’t take too long, I’m so fuckin’ hungry.”

 --

 “Maaaan, I can’t wait until this semester’s over,” Atsumu sighed. “I feel like it’s draggin’ by.”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to go home for break.”

The two of you were standing on a patch of grass outside the gym, passing a volleyball back and forth. It was chilly, your breath coming out in silvery puffs, but after spending most of your time inside studying for the past week, you had both wanted to get some fresh air.

“I just know I’m gonna fail my bio final.”

“You’ll be fine, ’Tsumu,” you chuckled as you bumped the ball back to him. “You’ve been studying more in the last few days than I’ve seen you do in your entire life.”

“Hey, I studied in high school!” he huffed, his face contorting in mock annoyance as he set the ball. “Just ask Suna!”

The mention of his roommate’s name made your stomach flutter, causing you to mess up the course of the ball.

Atsumu quickly stepped to the side to get under it, giving you a nice, high set in return. “Jeez, you’ve really let your skills slip, huh?” he teased, grinning at you.

“Shut up, piss head.” Your cheeks were already pink from the cold, but you felt them heating up.

“Why don’t you play anymore anyway? I’m pretty sure there’s a women’s club on campus.”

You shrugged as you responded. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’m good enough to play for a college team.”

“Bullshit.”

You heaved a sigh. “Fine. I just think it’d be weird to play on a new team. I liked my old team, ya know? All my good memories are of them, I don’t think it would be fun to have to learn a whole new dynamic with new people. I’d feel like I was… I don’t know, like I was cheating on them or something.”

Atsumu looked at you like you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “That’s still bullshit.”

“Well I don’t expect you to understand, you freak. You wouldn’t care who your teammates are, as long as you get to play volleyball.” You gave him a smile as you passed him the ball. “I still have fun playing with you and ’Samu, though.”

“You better. If that ever changed, I’d have to rethink this whole friendship.”

You both laughed, but a part of you wondered how serious he really was.

“Fuck, okay my fingers are actually starting to go numb. Can we go inside now?” you asked, shoving your bright red hands into your jacket pockets.

“Yeah, you wanna grab some dinner?”

“Definitely.”

The two of you set off for the campus dining hall, huddled close together for warmth. The sun was just beginning to set, making the bare trees cast long, spindly shadows on the path in front of you. You quickened your pace, shivering a little.

The dining hall was just beginning to fill up; you and Atsumu managed to grab a table near the back of the room before all the spots were taken. You wrapped your freezing hands around your bowl of soup, savoring the warmth. Atsumu wasted no time digging into his own meal.

“You might wanna wipe that rice off your face, ’Tsumu,” you told him in a low voice, “that girl over there is checking you out.”

“Huh?” he asked, his mouth full. His eyes glanced over to the direction where you were tilting your head. “Eh, whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face. “You still hooking up with that girl from your stats class?”

“Yeah, I actually really like her,” he said, swallowing a massive bite of food. “She’s sweet, and funny. And she’s really good at—”

“Stop,” you said, holding up a hand. “I really don’t wanna know.”

He smirked at you. “I was gonna say helping me study. Jeez, what were you thinking about?”

You bit your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile.

“What about you? You been seeing anyone?”

“You know damn well the only guys I hang out with are you and ’Samu.”

“And Suna,” he added. You took a big gulp of your soup so you wouldn’t have to say anything in response. He was right, though; lately you had been spending more time with Suna, even without the twins around. “I’m kinda surprised at Suna, actually,” Atsumu continued.

“What, that he’s hanging out with me?”

“No, that he’s not hanging out with any other girls.”

Your brow furrowed a little. You had assumed that Suna got around; he was handsome, after all, and he had that mysterious, reticent personality that most girls went crazy for.

“I mean, back in high school he was kinda known for just having a ton of hookups. I figured he’d keep that up in college. I don’t know, maybe he’s too busy now,” Atsumu mused.

You mulled it over in your head. It seemed to you like Suna had more free time now than he would have had in high school; almost every time you stopped by their house, he was either in his room reading or listening to music, or else playing games with the twins. You were pretty sure he could have fit in a hookup or two if he wanted.

“Maybe he just wants to focus on his classes,” you offered, but it didn’t sound realistic even as you said it.

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, like he’s gonna trade pussy for his GPA.”

“Charming, ’Tsumu,” you sighed. “It’s not really any of our business what Suna gets up to, though.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a little weird for him.” Atsumu’s arm stretched out to steal some food from your tray. “Maybe he’s met someone he really likes.”

His words made your stomach turn over, but you weren’t entirely sure why.

 --

 A few days into the spring semester, both Atsumu and Osamu came down with nasty colds. By the time the weekend rolled around, they were completely incapacitated, unable to do anything but huddle up together on the couch, sniffling sadly.

You had taken pity on your friends, so on Saturday night (after receiving several dramatic texts from Atsumu that he was dying), you decided to go over to their house to cook them dinner. The twins were curled up on the couch watching a movie, wrapped in thick blankets with used tissues scattered around the coffee table in front of them. From where you stood in the kitchen prepping ingredients, you had a clear view of them over the counter; the sight of them looking so sorry for themselves reminded you of all the times you had gone over their house to keep them company when they got sick as kids. You smiled to yourself, thinking of those fond memories.

“Y/n,” Atsumu whined from the living room, his blanket pulled up over the top of his head. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, baby. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him tighten the blanket around himself, a dopey grin on his face. “Y/n called me ‘baby’,” he said happily.

“Simp,” Osamu muttered under his breath.

Atsumu stuck a leg out from under his blanket to kick his brother. “Don’t be jealous, you scrub!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at them; their usual bickering sounded especially cute when their voices were so congested.

“Even when you’re sick you guys can’t shut up.” Suna had come downstairs, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the kitchen.

“Sunarin! Are you finally gonna hang out with us?” Atsumu asked excitedly.

“Absolutely not. I don’t wanna catch whatever weird disease you guys have—”

“You make us sound so disgusting,” Osamu grumbled.

“I just came down to get food,” Suna continued, grabbing a Cup Noodle from the cupboard.

“Oh no you’re not,” you said, snatching it out of his hands. “I’m making dinner for you guys.”

Suna’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but he didn’t object. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, watching as you dried the vegetables.

“Suna, could you chop up the mushrooms for me?” you asked. “Oh, but wash your hands first, please!”

Without saying a word, he did as you asked. You could hear Atsumu snickering from the couch.

“Talk about a simp. Y/n actually got Sunarin to help out in the kitchen,” he said, smirking. Suna balled up the paper towel he was using to dry his hands and chucked it at Atsumu’s head.

“You’ve got snot dripping down your face, dude.”

“Shut up!” Atsumu cried, sniffling as he burrowed deeper into his blanket.

With Suna’s help, prepping the ingredients went twice as fast. You expected him to leave the kitchen once it was done, but to your surprise he stayed, leaning against the counter again to watch you as you cooked. Occasionally he asked you a question about what you were doing.

“The chicken takes a little longer to cook than the veggies, so I’m adding that to the broth first,” you explained. “The order you add things affects the flavor, too.”

“How many times have I offered to teach ya to cook, Sunarin?” Osamu called from the other room. “Guess ya only wanna learn when Y/n’s doin’ the teaching.”

Suna glared at him over his shoulder before turning his attention back to what you were doing. “I didn’t really have to know how before.”

“It’s never too late to learn,” you reassured him.

“Nothin’ sexier than a man who knows how to cook!” Osamu yelled, grinning. Suna ignored him, but you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink.

When the food was nearly done, you asked Osamu to clear a space on the coffee table. With Suna’s help, you carried over the meal you had cooked together, setting down the steaming bowls of soup, rice, and vegetables in front of the twins.

“My nose is all stuffed up, but this still smells so good,” Atsumu said, eyes closed as he sniffed the air.

“Yeah, your cooking’s always the best, Y/n,” Osamu agreed as he reached out with both hands for a bowl of soup.

“Oh, I picked up your favorite tea on the way over here, too,” you said, going back to the kitchen.

“What?! You really are the best!” Atsumu wailed. You walked back into the living room, carrying two mugs in each hand. “What did we ever do to deserve you?”

“It’s a mystery to me,” you replied, but the smile on your face was gentle as you handed the twins their tea. You passed the third mug to Suna, and the look he gave you was nothing short of tender as you sat next to him on the floor. The sight of it made your heart pound in your chest.

When you had all finished eating, you and Suna carried the dishes back to the kitchen while the twins dozed on the couch. After packing up the leftovers, you started washing the dishes and cooking pots, with Suna drying and putting them away.

“Thanks for making dinner for us,” he said quietly, not making eye contact with you.

“Of course,” you said, offering him a smile. “I don’t mind doing it.”

“You must really like those two idiots, if you’re willing to do so much for them.”

You looked over the counter into the living room where the twins were passed out on the couch. Osamu was curled up on his side, his head leaning against the armrest and blanket tucked up tight around him; Atsumu had his head thrown back, mouth hanging open as he snored softly. The sight of them sleeping so peacefully made a feeling of warmth spread throughout your chest.

“I’ve known them since we were three,” you told Suna, gaze still pointed towards the twins. “They’re like brothers to me.” You paused for a moment, thinking, before turning your attention back to the dishes in the sink. “I think it’s normal to want to do things for the people you care about.”

You caught Suna’s eye as you looked up to pass him a freshly-washed plate. He was staring at you intently, brows slightly furrowed, but you couldn’t quite name the expression on his face.  

 --

 It came as no surprise when, a few days after taking care of the twins, you came down with a bad cold of your own. You managed to suffer through your classes and had just returned to your room to sleep for the rest of the day when, less than five minutes after changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed, there was a knock at your door.

“It’s open,” you called out, thinking it was one of the girls from your floor coming to check on you.

When Suna stepped into your room, you nearly fell in your haste to jump out of bed.

“Sorry, was I not supposed to come in?” he asked as you disentangled yourself from the blankets.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting it to be you,” you told him. You grabbed a hoodie from your closet and quickly pulled it on over your tank top, attempting to hide the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Oh,” was all he said. The two of you stood there staring at each other awkwardly for a moment, before you noticed the bag he was holding in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at it.

Suna blinked as if he had suddenly remembered why he was there. “The guys told me you weren’t feeling well,” he said, setting the bag down on your desk and pulling a container out of it, “so I thought I’d bring you some soup.” His voice got softer at the end, and you noticed a slight blush on his cheeks as he held it out to you.

He must have made it and immediately brought it over to your dorm, because the container was still hot to the touch. You struggled to keep your lower lip from shaking at the sheer thoughtfulness of it. “That’s really sweet, Suna. Thank you.”

“It’s probably not nearly as good as yours, but…” his voice trailed off. He scratched at the back of his head, the blush deepening on his face. “I tried to do what you showed me the other night.”

“Do you wanna have some with me?” you asked, but you were already taking down two bowls from the shelf above your desk and pouring out a serving for each of you, before putting the rest in your mini fridge. You ate a spoonful, eyes closing as you savored the taste. “Mmm, this is really good, Sunarin!” you smiled at him.

“It’s not bad,” he said, grinning a little bit.

“It’s really good for your first try!” you pressed on. “You know, if you want more practice, you can cook for me anytime.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that’d be a pretty sweet deal for you. But what would I get out of it?”

“Duh, you’d get to spend more time with me.”

“Oh, then pass.”

“Suna!” You pretended to pout, earning a genuine laugh from him. It felt good to joke around with him again, after not being in contact with him at all over the winter break.  

“Do you wanna hang out for a bit?” he asked when you had finished eating, setting his empty bowl on your desk. “Or were you just planning on sleeping for the rest of the day?”

You were a little taken aback at his question, since he had gone out of his way to avoid Atsumu and Osamu when they were sick. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch whatever I have?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “If I was gonna catch it, I would have caught it from Thing 1 and Thing 2 already.” His expression faltered a little. “We don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“No, I do!” you said, a little too quickly in your eagerness to not let this chance slip through your fingers. “I just don’t want to get you sick, that’s all.”

“I’ll be fine.” Suna rolled his eyes, smiling. “You wanna watch a movie? I’ll let you choose, since you’re sick.”

“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” you teased as you carried your laptop over to your bed. You sat down, propped up against the pillows, and shifted to the side so Suna could sit next to you. “Can we watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’?”

“Sure.”

“I feel like you’d kin Miranda Priestly.”

“I will leave this room, right now,” he threatened, beginning to stand up.

“No, no! I was only joking!” you laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. He rubbed at his face, but you could see his slight smile hidden behind his hand.

The movie was almost over before Suna realized that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. When he first felt your head lean against him, the pounding of his heart had prevented him from daring to look at your face, but after several of his comments had gone ignored, he finally peered down at you, surprised to see your eyes closed. When the credits rolled, he had intended to get up and let you rest, but when he tried to move, your body shifted to turn towards him, an arm reaching out to wrap around his torso.

“Rin,” you murmured in your sleep, and the sound of your voice saying his name caused all of his resolve to disappear.

With you sleeping so peacefully, your warm body pressed up against his, Suna couldn’t bring himself to risk accidentally waking you up. The sun had already set, making your room dark and cozy, and so he figured he could wait there for a little bit until you woke up from your nap. Lifting one of his arms to put it around your shoulders, he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, sunlight was streaming in through the window. He blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His movements prompted you to wake up, your gaze slowly focusing to find yourself leaning on his chest like a pillow.

“Guess we were both more tired than we thought,” he said, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Mmph,” you mumbled, noticing a damp spot on his shirt from where you had drooled on him. God, how embarrassing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, shifting to look down at you.

“A little better,” you said. Sitting up properly, you rubbed at your face, attempting to hide your blush from him. “Sorry that I fell asleep on you.”

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling a little before his face shifted into a more teasing expression. “Did you know that you mumble in your sleep?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands even more. “Yeah, I’m aware.”

“It’s kinda cute.”

“Please don’t make fun of me this early in the morning.”

Suna pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “Ugh… I’ve got class at 9:45. I gotta go home to shower and get ready before then.” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head. You lowered your hands from your face just in time to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach as his shirt lifted up; the sight of it made your cheeks burn anew, your head turning quickly so he wouldn’t notice you staring.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Y/n,” he said, putting on his coat.

“Thanks again for coming over,” you said, forcing yourself to look him in the eye.

He grinned a little sheepishly as he made his way to the door. “Well, ya know… you gotta do things for the people you care about.”  

 --

 Stepping out into the brisk early springtime air, you spotted a familiar head of dark hair a few yards in front of you.

“Hey, Sunarin!” you called out, waving at him when he turned around. He stopped walking to allow you to catch up with him. “Are you done with class for the day?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got practice.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

He didn’t respond, but the slight shrug of his shoulders as he took off again told you that he wasn’t bothered by your company. You walked side by side, your hands brushing against each other’s occasionally, each brief contact setting off butterflies in your stomach. If it had any effect on Suna, he didn’t let it show.

“Have you thought about what classes you’re gonna take next semester?” you asked.

“Not really,” he said. “Why, you gonna start stalking me?” he added, lips quirking up into a grin.

“Just making conversation,” you grumbled, turning your face so he wouldn’t see your blush.

“Y/n!”

You looked up in the direction the voice came from to see a guy from one of your classes making his way over to you. You greeted him politely, and he launched into a conversation about the latest paper you had been assigned, falling into step beside you.

“Are you doing anything now? You wanna go get dinner with me?” he asked eventually.

“Oh, I can’t, actually,” you told him. “I have plans with a friend tonight.”

His face fell a little, but he quickly bounced back. “That’s alright, some other time maybe.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what you’re doing for spring break yet?”

“I’m not really sure, I’ll probably just stay on campus,” you said.

“Oh, me too!” he said, grinning at you. “Maybe we could get together then.”

You had reached a branch in the path, and he turned right to continue towards the dining hall.

“See ya around!” he said with a wave.

You waved back, noticing that Suna’s eyes lingered on the other guy’s back as he walked away.

“That dude likes you,” he said in a deadpan voice.

“Huh?”

“He was trying to ask you out, dumbass.”

“What? No he wasn’t. I don’t think he’d do that in front of you.”

“Well, if he asks you again you should say yes.” Suna was smirking at you, but his voice was devoid of any emotion.

His words pricked at your heart, making your chest feel tight. The idea of him encouraging you to go out with someone else was a little upsetting. You turned your head away from him.

“Yeah, maybe,” you said absentmindedly. In truth, you had no interest in going out with that other guy, but Suna’s comment had left you unsure of what to say.

His brows creased a bit. Turning back to look at him, you saw that his gaze was significantly colder than it had been before. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, but he cut you off before you could.

“I’m gonna be late for practice,” he said flatly, walking off quickly and leaving you to stand alone on the path.

 --

 After that day, things between you and Suna were different. He was suddenly making himself even more scarce than usual, and during the few times when you managed to see him, he was quieter than before. You couldn’t think of what would make him act so coldly towards you, and the possible explanations you came up with in your mind only made you feel worse.

You were waiting outside the gym one evening for Atsumu and Suna to get out of practice. When you saw them walking out the door you went over to greet them, handing over the bag of pork buns you had picked up at the convenience store.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Atsumu said, gratefully accepting the food you offered him; Suna, however, stepped away before you could pass it to him.

“Sorry, I’ve got stuff to do,” he said cryptically before turning from you.

“We were planning on playing Smash later, are you gonna be around?” you asked.

“Probably not,” was all he said, waving one hand over his shoulder as he walked away.

Stung, you turned to Atsumu. “Suna’s been avoiding me, right? I haven’t been imagining that?”

Mouth full of pork bun, he shook his head. Swallowing thickly, he said, “Nope, he’s definitely been MIA lately. I don’t know why, though.” Seeing the way you bit your lower lip in worry, he was quick to speak again. “I’m sure it’s got nothin’ to do with you! Sunarin’s probably just busy.”

“Do you think he’s seeing someone?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Nah, if he was I’d know about it. He’s never brought anyone back to the house.” He crammed half a pork bun into his mouth, struggling to chew it. “Honestly, he might just be a little homesick.”

“What?” It was hard to imagine someone like Suna being homesick; considering he spent so much time on his own, you didn’t think of him as the type of person to miss anyone.

“I mean, he told me he’s goin’ home for spring break to spend time with his sister,” Atsumu explained. “He must really miss her.”

You couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the news. A part of you had hoped that Suna’s avoidance of you actually was due to his busy schedule, and you had been looking forward to your spring break as the perfect opportunity to get some quality time with him. The fact that he wasn’t going to be there confirmed your doubts, proving, in your mind at least, that he really didn’t want to be around you anymore.

“You got any more of these?” Atsumu’s voice brought you out of your own thoughts.

“Yeah, here,” you said, giving him the bag of pork buns intended for Suna.

He continued chattering the whole walk back to the house, but you hardly processed a word. You were too busy wondering about what you could have possibly done to make Suna no longer want to be your friend.

--

 It had been several weeks since you had spent any time with Suna, aside from the brief moments when you saw each other at the house when you were visiting the twins, but he always gave an excuse as to why he couldn’t hang around. You knew he was a private person, but his sudden avoidance of you hurt twice as much after he had seemed to be getting more comfortable around you. Several times you had texted him to ask if he wanted to get food with you or watch a movie together, but he either claimed he was too busy with classes, or ignored you altogether. Eventually, you gave up trying to contact him.

But that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering when you did see him in person. You found yourself living for the moments when you would be sitting in the living room with Osamu or Atsumu, and Suna would come downstairs, giving you a quick nod before rushing out the door; or when you would be hanging out in Osamu’s room and Suna would walk down the hallway, locking eyes with you for half a second before going into his own room and shutting the door behind him. Each time you hoped he would stop and actually say something to you, and each time you were left disappointed.

So it came as a surprise when, one day when you and Osamu were in his kitchen making onigiri together, Suna came downstairs and actually lingered for a bit, even after spotting you. Not wanting to scare him off, you bit your tongue as he sat on the counter, watching you form the rice balls with your hands.

“Those look good,” he said; you weren’t sure if he was addressing you or Osamu.

“Here,” Osamu said, putting some on a plate and passing it to his friend. “You headin’ out soon?”

Suna nodded, his mouth full of rice. “Yeah, I’ve gotta meet with my advisor.”

“We’re going out to eat later, you should come. You haven’t hung out with us in a while.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been kinda flakey lately,” he said, his tone apologetic.

You couldn’t help yourself. Looking him in the eye, you spoke. “We’ve missed you, Rintarou. It’s not as fun without you around.”

“Gee, thanks,” Osamu muttered, but you hardly heard him. For the first time in weeks, Suna was looking directly at you, his gaze almost soft.

“Can’t imagine how rough it must be for you to have to spend time with these two goons,” he said, grinning.

“I’m standing right here, man,” Osamu said, his voice sounding only slightly annoyed.

You laughed, and to your amazement Suna returned it. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, hopeful that this awkward tension between you two was finally over.

“Text me when you guys are leaving, okay?” he said, hopping down off the counter and making for the front door. “I’ll meet you there.”

You couldn’t keep the giddy smile off your face even after he left. The thought of spending time with him again was almost too much for you.

“I wish you guys would just fuckin’ kiss already,” Osamu griped, his hands still deftly forming perfectly-shaped onigiri.

“Huh?!” you spluttered, nearly choking as his words sank in. “Who?”

“You and Sunarin, you clown. Do ya have any idea how painful it’s been watchin’ you two idiots for the past few months? Jesus, even ’Tsumu noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“That you guys like each other!”

“I don’t—wha—,” you fumbled over your words, not entirely sure what to say. “Suna doesn’t like me!”

“Uh huh, yeah, okay. Y/n, the man made you a whole-ass pot of soup when you were sick. I’ve known him for years and he won’t even let me borrow his phone charger.”

“If he likes me, then why has he spent the last two months completely ignoring me?”

“Because Rintarou has the emotional intelligence of a fuckin’ cantaloupe.” Osamu finally turned to look at you, his hands resting on his hips. “Look, he’s never actually liked someone before—not for real, anyway—so I don’t think he knows what to do about you. He’s never gonna fess up and tell you how he feels, so his next best option is to just avoid you entirely. But he’s been missing you, real bad. I can tell.”

“So I’m supposed to be the one to tell him?”

Osamu smirked at you. “So you actually like him?”

You paused for a moment, sucking in a breath. “Yeah, I like him.”

It was the first time you had admitted it even to yourself. A wave of relief immediately washed over you, as if you had been holding onto a secret that you no longer had to hide.

Ignoring the blush you felt creeping onto your face, you forced yourself to look at your friend.

“But isn’t that weird for you? I mean, we’re your best friends, would you really be okay with it if we started dating?”

Osamu glanced up as he thought about it, taking in a deep breath and exhaling loudly. “It’d be a little weird at first, but I’d get used to it. But it doesn’t matter how I feel about it.” He looked back down at you. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“’Samu,” you wailed, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

“So, you gonna tell him or what?”

“I don’t know… what if he doesn’t feel that way about me?”

“He definitely does.”

“Well, maybe it’s just not a good idea for us to date… I mean, neither of us has ever been in a real relationship before, what if we just crash and burn?”

Osamu took in another deep breath, looking as if he was preparing himself for something unpleasant. “Look, you know I’m not a sappy guy, and I feel gross even saying this, but honestly, you and Rintarou are two of the most compatible people I’ve ever met. Even I can see how cute you guys are together. You’d be stupid not to date him.”

“Seriously, ’Samu, you’re actually gonna make me cry.”

“Whatever,” he said, turning back to make more onigiri. “Just hurry up and confess already, I miss hangin’ out with my friends.”

 --

 You waited until Atsumu and Osamu were out of the house; that way, if things didn’t go well, you could quietly slip away to collect your dignity without having to answer any questions from them first.

You stood in Suna’s doorway, heart pounding furiously in your chest as you steeled yourself for what you were about to do. He was sitting on his bed with his headphones on, looking at something on his laptop, but when you knocked on the door frame he glanced up, noticing you for the first time.  

“Hey, Rintarou,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Can we talk?”

He took his headphones off and shut his laptop, setting it to the side and scooting forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?”

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you stepped into his room and sat down next to him. He was looking at you intently, a small crease between his brows. You glanced down at your lap, fingers twisting nervously, before looking at his face again. If you weren’t honest with him now, you never would be.

“I like you,” you said bluntly, “more than just a friend.” Suna’s lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” you continued, really struggling now to hold his gaze. “I just… I had to tell you. And I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, that’s not what I want. Your friendship means a lot to me and I don’t want to lose that, so even if you don’t—”

“Y/n.”

Your words caught in your throat, afraid of what he was about to say.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was impossibly soft, the question sounding so delicate as it fell past his lips.

You could have sworn your heart stopped beating for a moment. You nodded your head. “Yes.”    

Suna’s hand reached up to cup your cheek before he leaned in, agonizingly slowly, to press his mouth to yours. His lips were so soft, his touch incredibly gentle. Placing both hands on the back of his neck, you melted into him, sighing as his other arm wrapped around your waist to pull you in closer. You could feel him grinning against your lips just before he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“I like you, too,” he said softly.

Returning his smile, you leaned in to fit your mouth to his again, relishing the way it felt to be held by him, to have him kiss you so tenderly. It took all of your willpower to pull away from him.

“Rin, I have to go,” you whispered against his lips.

“What?” His expression was puzzled as you abruptly stood up.

“I have class in ten minutes,” you explained, making your way to the door.

“So you’re just gonna drop that on me and then dip?”

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning. “Yup.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but the smile was still on his face even as you left.

 --

 The first few weeks after you and Suna started dating passed by in a blur. The heartache you had felt when he kept his distance from you had been replaced by a constant feeling of joy at the knowledge that you were together now. You still got butterflies every time you saw him, your heart melting each time you pressed a kiss into his cheek and saw a blush creep onto his face.

The only complaint you had was that after three weeks, you and Suna still hadn’t slept together. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, but there was always something that prevented you from actually succeeding: he was too exhausted after finishing volleyball practice; you both had term papers to work on; someone on your floor burnt popcorn in the microwave, setting off the fire alarm. The closest you two came to doing anything was one night when you thought you had the house to yourselves. You and Suna were making out on his bed, and he was just about to take off your shirt when Atsumu suddenly burst into the room to ask if they were all out of laundry detergent. He had quickly left, smirking, after realizing what he was interrupting, but you were too embarrassed to continue after he closed the door.

At this point, it had been over a year since you last had sex, and you were starting to go a little crazy. You were pretty sure Suna knew it, too, based on the smirks he gave you when he happened to catch the way you would stare at him periodically. After the length of time it took for you two to finally admit your feelings for each other, it was incredibly frustrating that the universe seemed to be keeping you apart again.

The end of the semester rolled around, and the twins decided to throw another big party before finals week. You managed to convince Suna to not hide in his room the entire time, and to your amazement he seemed to be having a good time, laughing in the corner with some friends from the volleyball team.

You were sitting on the couch next to Osamu, slowly sipping the beer in your hand. He was talking to you about your plans for the summer, but you couldn’t stop your attention from drifting over to your boyfriend every once in a while, grinning at him each time you happened to catch his eye.

“Our parents are renting that beach house for two weeks in July, you wanna come with us again?” Osamu asked, drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that sounds fun,” you said, a little distracted.

“Your boyfriend can come, too, of course,” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you groaned, trying to hide your blushing face by downing the rest of your drink.

“Bet you’re gonna miss him, yeah? Three months is a long time to be apart from your lover.”

“I swear to god, ’Samu, if you don’t shut the fuck up…” you grumbled, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at your friend’s teasing.

Osamu’s attention was stolen then by someone asking him to go do shots, so you got up and walked to the kitchen by yourself to throw out your empty beer bottle. After you tossed it in the bin, you felt warm hands encircle your waist and a familiar voice whispered into your ear.

“It’s getting kinda crowded down here, you wanna go upstairs?” Suna’s warm breath tickled your ear, making you shiver in his arms. Turning around to face him, you gave him a quick kiss before taking him by the hand and leading the way to the stairs.

Closing his bedroom door muffled the sounds of the party, and you were able to breathe easier now that you were alone with him. Suna scrolled through his phone briefly before finding the playlist he was searching for, setting his phone down once the music started playing.

“Hey,” you said, grinning as you recognized the song, “this is the same playlist that you put on the night we met.”

He took a few steps towards you, arms snaking around your waist to pull you in close. “I know,” he said simply before leaning down to kiss you. You allowed him to deepen it, lips parting for his tongue, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

Without breaking away, Suna guided you to his bed, gently laying you down and crawling on top of you, his knee coming up to press between your legs. You moaned into his mouth, feeling him grin against you. Breathing hard, you pulled his shirt over his head, leaning back so that you could look at him. You had known he was fit from all the times your body had been pressed against his, but seeing his muscular form with your own eyes was different. You squirmed under him, feeling your arousal growing between your thighs.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time, Y/n,” he whispered, leaning down to press kisses into your neck.

“I know,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” He pulled your shirt off of you, warm hands burning into your skin. “Do you know what I’m gonna do next?” he teased in a low voice, mouth moving down over your collarbones as his hands came up to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples through your bra.

“Rin,” you whined when he pulled down the fabric to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, his other hand coming to rest between your thighs, groaning against your skin when he felt the wetness seeping through your shorts.

“Yeah, baby?” He was kissing a line down your stomach, goosebumps rising in his wake. He tugged off your shorts and panties together as you sat up to unhook your bra, tossing it onto the floor without taking your eyes off his face. Your hands immediately moved to the waistband of his pants, unbuttoning them as you planted sloppy kisses across his chest. He wriggled out of them and threw them to the side, before wrapping a hand around each of your legs and spreading them apart. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, lips gliding over the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me, baby. I know how badly you want this.”

You whimpered, fingers running through his hair and gripping tightly. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, making you shiver again. A loud moan escaped you when he finally pressed his tongue against your pussy, running slowly over your folds and circling around your clit before moving back down. He repeated the motion, making your breath come out in short pants as your fingers tangled themselves further in his hair.

“God, you taste so sweet,” he moaned against you. His hands pressed down on your hipbones, pinning you in place as you started trembling around him, small whimpers leaving your mouth the closer you came to your release. You drew your legs up, the heel of one of your feet resting on his back as your spine arched, pressing into his mouth.

“Fuck, Rin, I’m so close,” you gasped out. He hummed, hands reaching up to trace his fingertips along your sides. You started moving your hips and he stilled, holding his tongue out for you to grind against. Within seconds you were cumming, legs shaking and nails digging almost painfully into his scalp. He kept his mouth open to allow you to ride out your high, gaze trained on your face.

“You’re so cute, baby,” he murmured, moving to plant a row of kisses up your throat and over your jaw. “So fucking cute.” His lips fitted against yours as he grinded into you, the friction against your clit making you gasp.

“Rin,” you whispered, pulling away to look in his eyes, “lie down.”

He rolled off of you, reaching out with both hands to pull you on top of him. You kissed him once, teasingly, before sitting up and gazing down at him. With one finger, you traced a line from his throat down over his chest and stomach, coming to rest where the skin dipped down between his hipbones, smiling to yourself at the way he shivered from your touch. Hooking your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers, you gently tugged them off of him, watching the way his thick cock sprang out to slap against his abs. Heart pounding excitedly, you dragged your nails over the top of his thigh, pleased when his muscles tensed beneath you.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” he groaned, fingers digging into your arm. “I’ve had to wait so long for this.”

You would have been content to make him wait even longer, wanting to hear him begging you to touch him, but the pleading look in his eyes softened your resolve. “I know,” you purred, leaning down to run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, grinning to yourself when you heard his sharp inhale. You swirled your tongue around the tip, letting your spit run down his length, before wrapping your lips around his cock.

Soft moans and pants reached your ears as you slowly took all of him into your mouth. When the head of his cock hit the back of your throat you paused, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from the stretch of your jaw. You slid your tongue along his cock as you hummed lightly, eliciting a loud groan from him. Your hand came to grip his cock as you started bobbing your head up and down, moving in tandem with your mouth. Suna tilted his head to watch you, his chest rising and falling heavily. Keeping your eyes on his face, your mouth left his cock with a wet pop and moved down to suck on his balls, your hand continuing to jerk him off.

“F-fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow. His fingers entwined themselves in your hair, gripping firmly, but you had reached the limit of your patience. You crawled back on top of him, thighs planted on either side of his hips, and used your hand to drag his cock along the folds of your cunt.

“I wanna feel you, Rin,” you said breathlessly as his hands gripped your hips. “Wanna feel you inside me.”

Pressing his tip into you, you slowly sank down onto him, loving the way his mouth fell open as you took him completely inside you. The stretch made you gasp, head falling forward to rest against the crook of his neck. You kissed the skin just below his ear as you started grinding your hips against him, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. The sensation on your clit made you moan into his skin.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered.

“Feels good,” you whimpered, your pace quickening. “S-so good.”

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight…”

The knot in your stomach was rapidly tightening. A few more motions were all it took for you to be cumming again; you pressed your lips against Suna’s, tongue reaching into his mouth as your orgasm washed over you.

When your hips stilled, he lifted you off of him and flipped you over onto your back, nipping at the skin of your neck as he repositioned himself between your legs. With a groan, he sank into you again, hips snapping against you urgently. Your body already felt worn out, but the sensation of him fucking you so deeply had you clawing at his back, desperately trying to pull him closer to you. He lifted your trembling legs onto his shoulders, the new angle of his cock thrusting into you making you cry out.

“Is that your spot, baby?” he crooned, repeatedly hitting the place that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Yes, yes, yes, right there, Rin, p-please don’t stop!” you babbled. One of your hands reached out to grab his and bring it to your neck, eyes pleading with him.

His fingers tightened around your throat. “Fuck, you look so cute taking my cock like that. You gonna cum again, pretty girl? Gonna cum all over my cock for me?”

His grip on your throat was making you lightheaded, the friction against your clit sending pleasant vibrations throughout your entire body. The spot his cock was hitting inside your pussy had you hurtling towards the edge again, eyes rolling back as you incoherently begged him not to stop.

“Rin, I-I’m cumming—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you practically sobbed as your pussy clenched around him again. He released his hold on your throat, moving his hand up to lift your jaw and kiss you deeply, relishing when you moaned into his mouth. Your lips parted and he rested his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes, continuing to pound into you as you came. His breath stuttered as his thrusts grew more erratic, his face flushed as his cock throbbed inside you, hot cum filling your cunt.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again, slower than before. He pulled out and laid down beside you, breathing hard. You reached up to brush the loose strands of hair out of his face, fingers running over his cheekbones.

“Why did we wait so long to do this,” you asked, making him laugh.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” he said with a grin.

You exhaled happily, moving closer to him and nestling your head against his chest. His arm reached out to wrap around you and press his palm into your spine to pull you closer. He was warm, but your uncovered body shivered against the chill in the air, goosebumps rising along your skin.

“Here, cutie,” he said, shifting so that he could pull the comforter over you. “Comfy?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, closing your eyes and pressing a kiss into his collarbone.

With Rin’s arm around you and his steady heartbeat in your ear, you fell asleep almost instantly, feeling more content than you had in a long time.

 --

 You woke up before Suna. He had moved in his sleep, now lying on his back with one arm outstretched underneath your head. You watched him for a moment, smiling at the calm expression on his face, before climbing out of bed slowly, careful not to disturb him. Putting on your panties and one of Suna’s oversized t-shirts, you slipped out the door to walk to the bathroom down the hall.

Osamu and Atsumu’s doors were still closed, a fact that you were grateful for when you reached the bathroom and saw your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a tangled mess, your neck littered with little love bites, damning indicators of what you had been up to the night before. Splashing your face with water, you tried to scrub off the smeared remnants of yesterday’s makeup. Satisfied when you no longer looked like you spent the night in a club, you crept back into your boyfriend’s room.

“Hey,” Suna mumbled when you stepped back through the doorway, propping himself up on one elbow and rubbing his eyes with the other hand.

“Hey.” You smiled at him as you shut the door.

“Take those clothes off and come back to bed.”

You giggled, shrugging out of your clothes and stepping towards his outstretched arms. He pulled you into a tight embrace, peppering your face with kisses. He settled you down on your side next to him, pulling your thigh up to rest on his hip.

“Rin!” you squealed when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“I just wanna be inside you, baby,” he murmured. His touch had already made you wet, allowing his cock to slide into you easily. You sighed as his hips pressed up against yours.

His lips met with yours, his kiss achingly sweet. “I don’t ever want you to leave this bed,” he breathed out. You smiled against his lips, fingers running through his soft hair. He shifted his hips then, and the sensation was too much for you.

“O-oh,” you whimpered as your pussy tightened around him.

“Are you cumming?” he asked, the corner of his lips quirking up into a grin.

“Sh-shut up.”

He didn’t say anything else, simply tightening his arms around you and kissing you again. The two of you lay like that for a while, slipping into a peaceful state of half-sleep, until the sound of a distant door being flung open pulled you back.

“Fuck,” Suna mumbled under his breath. Not a second later, a loud knock sounded from the other side of his door.

“Sunariiiiin,” Atsumu’s voiced whined from the hallway. “Are you guys up yet?”

“Is that door locked?” Suna whispered to you. Commending yourself for your earlier foresight, you nodded. “Good.”

“Suna! Y/n!” He pounded on the door. “I know you guys can hear me, come on!”

“I gotta get my own place,” Suna grumbled, his eyes still closed. You giggled, and when the knocking on the door stopped you snuggled in closer to him, ready to go back to sleep.

Until your phone started ringing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you groaned, reaching out to grab it from the nightstand. “What do you want, Atsumu?”

“Aha! I knew you were awake!” He sounded very pleased with himself for succeeding in getting you to talk to him. “Can you make me pancakes?”

There was a pause as his question sank in. Holding your phone to your head and staring at Suna, you pulled away from him and sat up, eliciting a low groan from him. “You want me to make you pancakes?” you repeated in an incredulous voice. Suna cracked open his eyes, his face scrunching up as he heard Atsumu’s request.

“Yeah!”

“Get Osamu to do it.”

“He doesn’t make them as good as you!”

You could practically hear him pouting on the other end of the line. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you heaved a sigh. “Give me a minute.”

“Thankyouthankyouthanky—” You ended the call before he finished. Climbing out of bed, you pulled on your clothes again.

“Are you actually gonna do it?” Suna asked.

“He’s just gonna keep harassing us until I do it anyway,” you said. “Besides, it’s almost ten o’clock, we might as well get up.”

Suna rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow, groaning loudly. Grinning, you tossed a clean pair of boxers and a shirt at him.

Atsumu looked way too happy when you finally appeared downstairs. He and Osamu were sitting at the kitchen counter together; they nudged a steaming mug towards you when you walked in.

“We made you coffee,” he said, his grin wide across his face.

“Uh huh,” you grumbled.

“Where’s mine?” Suna asked as he trailed in behind you.

“Make your own, dick,” Osamu told him, smirking as he sipped his own drink.

Suna rolled his eyes, going to pour himself a cup from the coffeemaker.

Trying to hide your laughter from him, you gathered up the ingredients and set to work. When all the pancakes were done cooking you passed half of them across the counter to the twins.

“Mmm,” Atsumu hummed, closing his eyes as he took a bite. “So good.”

“I gotta teach you how to make these yourself, ’Tsumu,” you said, taking a bite of your own breakfast.

“Yeah, that way you clowns can let us sleep in for once,” Suna added.

“Don’t pretend, Y/n,” Atsumu said, “you know you love seeing my cute little face first thing in the morning.”

“I prefer seeing ’Samu’s, actually,” you teased. Osamu stuck his tongue out at his twin, laughing at his crumpled expression.

When you all finished eating, Atsumu and Osamu jumped up to wash the dishes for you. Holding your mug of coffee with both hands, you leaned into Suna’s side.

Looking over his shoulder at you two, Osamu grinned. “So, how was your night?”

“Fine,” you said in a casual tone.

“And that’s all you’re gonna get out of us,” Suna finished.

Osamu rolled his eyes, turning back to the dishes in the sink. “As if I’d want any details.”

“My night was great, thanks for asking,” Atsumu chimed in.

“Yeah? Was that before or after you puked in the backyard?”

“’Samu!”

You couldn’t help the relaxed smile that found its way onto your face, happy to get to listen to them teasing each other like always. With one hand resting on the counter, Suna’s other reached around your waist to tug you closer, fitting your body against his. Standing there laughing with your friends, with his arm around you, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

--

➣epilogue

--

➣masterlist

#i loooooove making rintarou feel emotions #that's my main kink #this is pretty long but it's only because i have so many thoughts okay!!!!!! #suna #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #suna fluff #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna angst #suna rintarou angst #haikyuu angst #niakasi writing

[chrisevansmaid]

Virginal

Summary: You go to a beach town in search of losing your virginity. The server at dinner is extra cute but it's also young Chris evans.

*this pic is from chris’s twitter*

MUST BE 18+!!!!

I see everyone saying this, so 18+ pleaseeeee. Begoneeeee youngins

Pairing: Chris Evans x female!reader, Young!Chris Evans x minor!reader, (Name inserted but you can switch it to yours)

Word Count: 3393

Perspective: Reader

Warnings: SMUTTT, p in v, mentions of smoking weed / dab pen, oral sex (female receiving), FLUFF AND ANGST, high sex, lowkey rough sex, dirty talk, degrading dirty talk, EXPLICIT sexual content, age gap, minor having sex with non-minor (17F with 20M), 

Authors note: 

FIRST FIC YAY!!!!!! Don't be mean pls <3.

I’m really bad at tenses so if it keeps switching from present to past tense sorry. The only grammar corrector I’m using is grammarly so if something doesn’t make sense oopsie, I’m too lazy from spending a while on this fic to go anal and analyze every sentence for errors. 

Okay so… I’m a pisces which basically means I can never stop daydreaming. Also the backstory is lowkey gonna be my backstory lol. This is how I wished I lost my virginity plus make it Chris evans.

*THIS IS NOT BASED OFF OF CHRIS ITS FULLY FROM MY IMAGINATION* 

Idk I'm bored and it's summer so I have nothing to do. YES THIS IS ABOUT A MINOR BUT IN MY STATE THE AGE OF CONSENT IS 16 SO CHILL.

18+ PLEASE STOP READING NOW IF YOU ARE A MINOR

So I’m a virgin. Not because I am a prude or anything, but it never worked. I like to self diagnose so my conclusion is I have vaginismus. That is basically rolled into my cervix/vagina clenches up whenever I try to have sex so no dick fits in and if anything does fit it's incredibly painful. It's not a matter of being turned on cus I could have Niagara Falls in my panties and it still wouldn’t work, trust me. Even being fingered was awful and I’ve been fingered like 10 times and none of them were enjoyable. My sister says I’m just really tight. Idk. I can finger myself and it's good-ish, I mean how far up can you reach with your own hand? 

But I’ve had enough of being a virgin and I just want someone to blow my back out. Preferably some sexy older guy. And because I’m sick and tired of having an untapped pussy I’ve devised a plan. I am going to the beach in a week or so and I am going to find the guy who I had my first kiss with and have him fuck me. Or some other hot guy I meet. But to make sure my inhibitions are lowered and my vagina doesn’t clench from nerves I am gonna get a little high before. 

1 week later.

My mom, stepdad, and I arrive at the beach and it is so pretty. I love this beach. It brings back so many good memories. I am rooming with my childhood friend, Sarah, and she knows I want to get fucked. We’ve snuck out before and we are so excited for this week. I take a picture of the beach and put it on my Snapchat story with my location tagged. This will let my first kiss know I’m near him so he can hit me up to fuck me. 

The day goes by kinda slow because all I could think of was walking up and down the boardwalk trolling for hot men. Finally, night comes and all the families that are at the beach go to dinner. I was kinda bored but then our server came. He was something else.

“Hi my name’s Chris and I’ll be your server tonight.” Ugh. Even his voice made my whole body warm up. His greenish blue eyes stared into my soul as he took my order. His dirty blonde hair was perfectly quaffed and the way his black shirt hugged his biceps was absolutely sinful. Okay yes, he was probably in his early twenties but who said I was ageist. If anything an older man would know how to fuck a woman better than any stupid high school senior that I would meet. 

I got up to go to the bathroom and saw Chris on my way. We locked eyes and didn't break contact until I went into the bathroom. As I stepped out of the bathroom I saw him again. It looked like he was waiting for me. His body was leaned up against the wall across from the bathroom I had just exited. He stopped me and said “Call me.” and handed me a piece of paper. Before I had a chance to say anything he turned and I was watching his perfect ass walk away. 

I went back to the table as if nothing happened. I don’t think anyone noticed my uncontrollable smile. Throughout the dinner, I could not tear my eyes away from our sexy server. I think Sarah noticed but I was gonna tell her about it when my parents weren’t right there. We finished dinner and all went back to the beach house. When we got back I told Sarah and she was so shook. We were racking our brains on what I should text Chris. I didn’t want to come off too strong but also I wanted this man to fuck me. So we settled on:

“Hey”

Yes. I know it's lame but he’s older defffffinitely older and I can’t act too young. Ugh, I am so scared of his response it's absolutely killing me. Sarah, two other girls that came to the beach, and I decide to go out for ice cream. At least ice cream would take my mind off waiting for a response. As we wait in line I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and it’s Chris. 

“I thought I told you to call me” His response is very bold but for some reason, it only intrigues you more. Immensely more. I show Sarah and she smiles. 

“Guess who’s getting her wish tonight.”

“Oh my god,” I respond. “What do I say?” I am literally so scared that he will think I’m too young or too much of a child. 

“Um, don’t say anything. Call him.” Sarah says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Do I actually call him? I’m literally getting the worst knots in my stomach and now I have to shit and I’m literally so nervous over a phone call. I am not a spontaneous person. AT ALL. 

“Okay, I’m gonna call him.” I say to Sarah after literally pondering this for 5 minutes.

Oh god. This is so scary. I tell Sarah to get me a vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and I step out of the line. I go to the walkway near the ice cream shop away from the crowd so I can hear better. I dial his number and put the phone to my ear.

It rings like 3 times and he picks up.

“Hey.” He says and his voice is even sexier than I remember. 

“Hey.” I literally didn’t know what to say and I am pacing up and down the sidewalk.

“So you must be the hot girl I gave my number to.”

“And you must be the sexy server.” Some wave of confidence came over me and that was the best response I could come up with.

“So what’s your name?”

“Olivia and if I remember correctly, your name is...” I paused to let him fill in the blank

“Chris.” 

“Chris, that's right.” I wanted to come off like I didn’t hang onto every word he said and so I played it off like his name wasn’t already filling my fantasies.

“So Liv, when am I gonna see you again?” He asks and this caught me a little off guard that he would jump straight to the point but I guess why prolong the inevitable.

“I don’t know, when are you free?”

“Can I pick you up tonight around 12?” Ugh yes. My plan was filling out nicely.

“Sounds great.” I mean what else am I supposed to say? 

“Send me where you’ll be and I’ll pick you up then.” His assertive tone was a panty fucking dropper. 

“Okay. See you then Chris.” I’ve picked up from my previous male experiences that if you say a guy's name he’ll be more inclined to fuck you. I mean I totally pulled that out of my ass but I wanted to sound like a confident vixen, not some 17 year old virgin. 

“Bye Liv.” The way he made up a nickname for me had me reddening in my cheeks and warming in my core. I say bye and hang up. As soon as the call ends I’m running back to Sarah and telling her every little detail. Okay, I really needed to get back home and shit. 

Sarah, the other girls, and I go back to the house and hang out for like an hour, and then it’s 11 and all the parents are asleep. I need to start preparing. So I take a phat shit and then shower even though I showered before dinner but I need to wash off my nervous sweats. I shave everywhere and when I get out I lotion my entire body, put on my sexy lingerie, and douse myself with perfume. I do my makeup but it’s simple and of course waterproof. I text Chris the address of the beach house but tell him to pick me up a couple houses down. I tell Sarah she needs to sneak out with me so if we get caught I can pretend me and her were just hanging outside the house. Sarah and I sneak out the back and bring her cart. I take a couple hits to calm myself down because god forbid I tense up before he can get his dick in. It's like 11:55. God my stomach is in knots. 

It’s 12. ‘Oh god’ I think to myself. I see a white range rover pull up at the end of the block. I say bye to Sarah and walk to the car. I see his face. Oh, fuck still sexy. I open his car door and jump into the passenger seat. 

“Hey.” I say

“Hey, Liv.” He says back. Him saying that little nickname he gave me is so much hotter in person. So so so much hotter. I think he knows what it does to me because his lips curl into a smirk. “Let’s go for a drive.” Chris says.

“Okay, I’m down.” I say back and kinda rethinking saying ‘I’m down’ because he is definitely rethinking how old I am.

We start driving around and talking and thank god the radio is on to fill any silence there could be. It’s on the country station and him liking country music is literally another added bonus. Then When it Rains it Pours comes on and I say “Omg I love this song.”

“Really?” He says back. “I’ve never met a girl as pretty as you that actually likes country music.” 

“Are you kidding? I love country music.” I say back not noting he just called me pretty. We mindlessly chat for like 20 minutes and Chris pulls the car into an empty parking lot that overlooks the whole beach town. 

“This is so pretty.” I say in awe of the gorgeous view. I can see from the corner of my eye that Chris is just looking at me.

“Not as good as my view.” He says back in a soft tone that has me melting to the floor of the car. I look back at him and we sit in silence just staring into each other's eyes. I glance at his lips and they look so kissable. They are the perfect amount of plump without being too big. When I look back to his eyes he is still staring at me. His lips almost form a smile and he grabs and cheek and kisses me. It’s even better than each and every one of my fantasies. I grab the back of his neck and kiss him even harder back. Before I know it the kiss gets more rushed and Chris is running his hands along the curve of my back. Our lips are crashing into each others with fervor like no other. He pulls me into his lap and he ruts his hips upward. He takes his left hand and moves the seat back and starts kissing down my neck. His lips leave little bite marks and he reaches my bosoms. He pulls my tank top down and pulls my breasts out of my bra and sucks on my right nipple as he pinches the left. Soft mewls leave my lips and he stops to look at me and the rush of cold air sends goosebumps across my skin. He leans up and kisses my neck and leaves marks all the way to my ear lobe and whispers “Before I fuck you until you can’t remember your name, How old are you?” 

Forming words is harder than I imagined so between pants I say back “17.” 

“Perfect” he whispers back while still biting my neck. “Come here” he says as he opens the door. I hop off him and outside the car and see the tent forming in his pants. He picks me up and wraps my legs around him and pins me against the car door. He bites my lip and I can’t imagine anything better than this moment. While still mounted on his he opens the door to the backseat and lays me down. He gets on top of me and shuts the door behind him. He ruts against my core and his jeans rub against the soft fabric of my athletic shorts. Although my mind is completely fixed on his engorged cock a thought forms in my mind. What if he thinks I’ve done this before? What If I’m so bad he doesn’t even speak to me again? These thoughts completely cloud my mind and Chris notices.

“What's wrong?” he says as he pulls away. I glance at his bitten lips and pant trying to form words. 

“Nothing just, I... I’m a virgin.” I blurt out. I am so scared I ruined the moment but his expression only intensifies. 

“Oh well we just can’t have that now can we?” He says back and his lust blown pupils grow darker and he kisses me with such intensity my thoughts completely leave my mind. I could get drunk off the taste of him. Chris breaks the kiss and rips off his shirt showing his perfectly chiseled abs. I felt them through the cotton but seeing them right in front of my eyes makes my mouth open. My lips peak into a smile and he picks me up and places my back closer to the car door. He rips off my shorts and starts kissing down my neck to my navel and I run my fingers through his hair. My chest rises and falls quicker as his lips reach my red lace covered mound. His teeth grab the waistband and he pulls off my panties. 

He inhales and says “So sweet.” His husky voice vibrating against my core. His kisses dance around my thighs. As more sounds leave my mouth Chris bites my skin. His hands hold my legs open as he licks down my folds. His tongue flickers across my clit leaving me trembling. I had never felt this way from anyone ever. My fingers run through his short dirty blonde hair and my nails dig into his scalp leaving crescent shaped indents. He slips his middle finger through my folds as he sucks on my clit. His fingers curl up hitting a spot I never knew existed. A feeling in my stomach starts intensifying and spreading through my entire body and I tremble in euphoria. Chris finger fucks me through my first ever orgasm. I shut my eyes tightly and when I open them Chris is staring right at me. I grab the hair on the nape of his neck and pull him back up to kiss me. I can taste myself still on his tongue as the material of his jeans rubs against my sensitive bud. His fingers pinch my nipples as he slips his tongue between my lips. I reach down and feel his throbbing cock through his pants. As I rub with the palm of my hand, throaty moans leave his mouth. Nothing was stronger than my desire to be fucked raw by this sex god. I pulled away from the kiss and say as I stare deep into his eyes “Fuck me Chris.” My words are efficacious to him. 

He licked his lips like an animal locked onto his prey. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulls down his jeans and takes his cock out of his boxers. I have seen a dick before but never that big. My mouth almost dropped to the floor. He pulled a condom out of the back of the seat and wrapped it around his cock. He pumped his dick a few times before running the head along my sodden folds. “You ready?” I had never been more ready for anything in my entire life. Unable to form words I nodded my head. Chris pushes his cock into me slowly. I gasped at the feeling. I wasn’t as tight as I usually was but it still stung. Each inch stung a little more until he bottomed out into me. He stilled. His breath was hot on my ear as our breathing synced. I gasped again as he pulled his hips back. I reached down and pulled him back into me. 

“Don’t hold back.” I said. I wanted this to be as enjoyable for him as it was for me. Chris pulled out and thrust back into me again. The groans that left this throat made my pussy clench around him. He picks up his pace and pain turns into pleasure. My legs wrap around his thighs and I’m pulling him into me. 

“You dirty little slut. So needy.” He whispered into my ear. The sound that escaped my lips drew him deeper in like a moth to a flame. Chris drives his cock into me faster so that all you can hear is breathy moans and the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. Chris moves his hand to my throat and squeezes. I try to moan but they catch in my throat and I look back at Chris. His mouth is agape and he is staring deep into my eyes. He thrusts so deep my eyes roll back and I have to shut them. He grabs my chin and pulls my face to meet his. “Look at me. Don’t look away. I want to see your face as I make you cum on my dick.” His cock is hitting places he didn’t even reach when fingering me. Another orgasm rips through me and my body trembles harder this time. Chris fucks me through my orgasm and just as I regained my mental awareness I could feel another one coming on. Chris squeezes harder on my neck as he sucks on my hardened nipples. He bites my skin and takes his hand from my neck and reaches between our sweaty writhing bodies and pinches my clit. A guttural moan leaves my throat as another excruciatingly intense orgasm takes over my entire body. I can tell Chris isn’t far behind because his thrusts become sporadic and he puts all his body weight into his last thrust and stills. The noises he makes me wish he was still fucking me. He leans down to meet my lips once again but this time it is slower and more gingerly. He pulls his dick out and lays down on top of me. 

We catch our breaths and I say. “Wow, that was.. fuck.”

Chris softly laughs and says “Who knew a 17 year old could have me in the palm of their hand.” 

“Who knew a however-old-you-are would take my virginity.” I say with a smile on my face.

“I’m 20, I probably should have told you earlier.” He says looking a little guilty.

“Don’t worry it would have only turned me on more.” I laugh back and our lips join in a soft kiss. 

Chris and I look at the dashboard and see it's 1:30 am. “Shit I should probably get home before my friend worries too much.” I say looking back at Chris and he nods. We sit up and reach down for our clothes. I reach for my underwear and Chris snatches it from my hands.

“These are mine now.” Chris smirks.

“Fine.” I put on my shorts and pull my top back on. Sadly Chris covers his humongous biceps with his shirt. I lean in and meet Chris with a kiss. We get back into our respective seats and Chris looks at me with a dumb smile.

“Why are you staring at me?” I say with a giggle.

“Oh, nothing.” Chris says and his smile only looks more like a 6 year old who just stole a cookie before dinner. I mean technically he did just steal something but that's beside the point. Chris puts the car back into drive and turns around to back up. 

As he drives me home there's more small talk but then he asks “How long will you be in town?” 

“A week,” I say. Chris’s dumb smile returns. “Okay, what's that smile for?” 

Chris looks at me and says “I’m just excited to fuck you every night this week.” 

#chris evans #cevans #firstfanfic #yay #excited #chris evans fanfc #chris evans x reader #young chris evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #smut #fluff #beach #stranger smut