#<- i fucking guess. i might be venting more in the next few weeks so ill at least make it easy to blacklist

[drefear]

Sister's Mister

Summary: You and your sister are having issues now that Miguel and her are official. Your friends have some opinions, and things finally get heated.

TW: drinking, heartbreak, cheating, family issues.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Peter had begun bringing Miguel around more and more, to whom the only person who seemed to dislike this was Miles, but they didn’t interact much. Miles always just kept Gwen close by when Miguel was around, not trusting him around his girlfriend. 

Something about Miguel made MIles uncomfortable, and he tried to tell both you and your sister, but it was no use. Your sister was in love, and you were too visceral to everything now to even comprehend what he was saying. The situation had made you into a shell of who you were. 

One person who found this all very entertaining?

Hobie Fucking Brown. 

Hobie saw you in that nightclub and knew you were the one Miguel had mumbled to him about a few times while he was drunk. Hobie and Peter took Miguel, Jess, and Lyla out a few times since they’d all become friends freshman year and got them all drunk. 

But in the recent few months since Miguel’s summer classes started, he would mumble about some girl under his breath when he was drunk, talk about her like she was a figment of his imagination. 

When Hobie saw you sitting alone in the nightclub, sipping your drink and awkwardly looking around as if searching for an escape route, he knew you were the one Miguel was fixated on. But the poor big bastard was too busy grinding on a girl who could be mistaken for a hooker, so much caked on lipstick and ass almost hanging out. 

Chaos was Hobie’s specialty and when he started dancing with you, he saw a crimson fire burn in Miguel’s eyes. Over your shoulder, he kept winking at the larger of the two, seeing something itch Miguel on the inside of his throat, giving Hobie the idea that he was in for it once they spoke again. 

And then the floozy was dragging Miguel over to you and Hobbie, and this made the alternative boy smile. How perfectly everything was falling into place. 

Hobie pulled you closer, something that had gone unnoticed by the females of the group and had Miguel’s hand almost twitching. 

Weeks had gone by, then he saw you at that party and heard you drunkenly venting. 

“Big and fuckin… stupid, ya know, Gweny? And like… my sister tells me about the sex, Gwen, the sex!” You were barely coherent as you rambled and this made Hobie laugh. He walked off to find his own fling of the night and a few hours later, he saw the big guy carrying out your passed-out body. 

The next day was the pool party and after the heat interaction between you and Miguel, he clapped his hands and laughed. 

“Time for grub, innit? How bout the food now?” He stood and walked to Peter, who hurriedly started passing out food. 

He just sat back and watched, waiting to interfere when he might be needed most, which he had a feeling would be soon. 

Meanwhile, Miguel walked around and finally found Gianna in the upstairs bedroom. 

“Gianna?” He asked and she turned, hugging him. 

“There you are, Miggy! Did you two talk? She still seems really mad.” Gianna bat her eyes and poured a bit, and Miguel felt sick to his stomach. The guilt of wanting you made his mouth dry and his hands freeze. 

“We need to talk.” He took her hand and led her to Mile’s living room. 

“Oh my god.” She covered her mouth and sat down, moving away from him a little. “I guess this was inevitable.” She let her shoulders sag and stared at the ground. 

“Well, I don’t think I’d say it was inevitable. It just started before us, and if I never-“ he looked up once her heard her crying, big tears streaming down her face as she hiccuped a bit. 

“I’m so sorry, Miguel. It’s just- I couldn’t help it!” She gasped and Miguel stopped dead in his tracks. What?

“What are you talking about?” He leaned backwards, frowning a bit. 

“This is about me and my ex, right?” She looked up, eyes glassy and red from crying now. Miguel stood up and furrowed his brows. 

“This- I didn’t even know… did you cheat on me?” The words felt sour in his mouth and like razors on his lips. He stepped backwards and watched as she stood up, reaching towards him. He moved from her hand and glared at the girl. 

“I thought you already knew, wasn’t that what you wanted to talk about?” She looked up to him in shame, then squeezed her eyes shut. “It wasn’t anything much, just a hookup.” 

“I came out here to tell you this wasn’t working because I want someone else.” He blurted out and a hurt expression flashed across Gianna’s face. 

“Who?” 

“Does it even matter now? You’re the one who cheated, I was going to cut things off before anything happened with her.” He started walking away from her. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To go fuck someone else, so I don’t have your taste in my mouth anymore.” He growled and stormed out. He needed to find you. Now. 

But you went home. You snuck out of the bathroom and went home, too embarrassed and hurt to see everyone again. 

How could you face your sister? Ben? Miles and Gwen? Everything was so screwed up, so messy now and you didn’t want to deal with it. You drove home and locked yourself in your bedroom, afraid of the world. 

Days had passed and it was the last class of the semester. You’d been watching your classes online so you didn’t have to leave your house, wanting to avoid everyone and everything. The only time you had to see anyone is when you had to eat, but your mom mainly brought your food to your bedroom. 

Walking onto campus, the sun beat down on you so hard and blinded you behind your sunglasses. You hurried into the lecture hall and bent your head down behind your laptop screen. You needed this final grade, it was an important class for you, but there was only one issue.

A looming presence made you scrunch your eyes shut and curl over your computer more. 

“We need to talk-“

“Class is starting.” You cut him off and fixed the darkened lenses on your nose. 

“Fine.” He yanked out the chair beside you and plopped himself down, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. 

“That’s not what I meant.” You sighed, giving up and letting him sit there. “Did you study?”

“No.” He answered, as if your question was stupid, “Did you?” 

“I tried, but I couldn't focus.” You slumped, to which Miguel bit his lip. He felt responsible for your distractions. 

“Cheat off of me, then.” 

“What?” You blinked in surprise, uncomfortable with how this sentence made your morality feel. 

“It’s the final, and you know your shit, so if you need to look over to me at any point, just check your answer. I know I’m gonna get an A anyway, this is my whole job.” He rolled his eyes and scooted closer to you, making you suddenly very conscious of the heat of his body near yours and how you looked. 

“F-Fine, but only if I need to, ok?” You stuttered and looked away from him. 

“Only if you promise to talk to me after.” He raised a brow and practically trapped you with just the look in his eyes. 

“Ok, but not here. We’ll get food or something.” You stammered nervously and heard the professor start talking. 

An hour and a half later, you finally finished the test, only glancing at Miguel once through the whole test. A lot of the source material came back to you every time you read the question, only one part stumping you briefly before Miguel held up three fingers and instructed you that it was the third option. 

Walking back out into the sunlight, Miguel grabbed your jean loop and stopped you from running away. “We’re taking my car, since you’re basically an escape artist.” You gulped, seeing how intent he was with speaking with you seriously. Every bone in your body was hesitant and afraid of what he might say, you knew him and Gianna broke up shortly after the fight you had with him and your bathroom excursion. She didn’t want to talk about it, and you didn’t particularly want to talk to her. Everytime you two even made eye contact, bile rose in your esophagus and you choked on the stifling shame of how you felt for her ex-boyfriend. 

Miguel followed you to his car and had you in the front as you watched everything pass by, thinking about how badly life had crumbled the past few weeks. 

Miguel’s hand gripped the steering wheel tighter as he saw you so quiet and upset. He hated this side of you, sad and hurt, but it seemed that this was the only side he brought out of you. 

He finally parked after the silent ride and walked around to get the door for you, waiting for you to jump out and also grabbing the door for you as you both entered the coffee shop. You’d never noticed him being a gentleman before, maybe because you’d never even given him the chance. 

You sat at a table inside and leaned on the wall beside you, too tired to even sit upright. He stood on the line and ordered coffee for you both, as well as a breakfast sandwich. You stared at his tall frame as he took the seat in front of you and sighed. 

“We should get some things out of the way.” He started and you nodded quietly. “I’ll begin with what happened . Your sister and I broke up because she cheated on me and I like you.” 

He spoke like this was obvious but your eyes widened in shock. 

“She cheated? With who?” 

“Some guy in her honors biology class. It wasn’t a big deal, we weren’t that serious and it was only two months.” He shrugged, sipping his black coffee as you milked yours with sugar and cream. 

“But still…” You trailed off and bit your lip. You felt his hurt, but he seemed so indifferent that it made you think again and then remember what else he said. “You like me?” 

His eyes found yours and he nodded.  “I liked you before I knew her, I’ve thought about you since the summer classes started.” He rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, like he was thinking, and the movement had you mesmerized. “Never knew your name, and when I met Gianna, I liked her because she resembled you, but then I was always around you and I would get angry and bitter because I had gotten so close, yet it wasn’t you.” Miguel rambled, running a hand through his brown hair and sighing in frustration from trying to explain his emotions. You grabbed the hand from his hair before you even realized what you were doing and held it on your own, then dropping it and blushing. 

“I uh-” 

Without waiting for your response, he grabbed that hand again and held it. You sat in silence for a second and stared at where your bodies now met. “You run through my mind like you have no idea.” his hand brushed yours once more and you realized something. 

“You were the one who helped me when I was drunk at Miles’s party.” 

“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling a little. 

You two sat there for hours, talking and laughing as you shared stories and feelings, as if a weight was lifted from both of your shoulders and you could be open to the other now. 

As you threw your head back from laughter to something he said, you heard someone call your name from behind you as you turned and met the eyes of the one person who wouldn’t understand. You both froze, fear chilling the entire area around you all. 

“Gianna?”

Tags: @ihateuguys @spontaneousleo @ginger23 @y2cade @alex110370000 @winteringfalls @neverlandlostchild @haileycannotcometothephonern @loser-alert @idk-sam@bunnyrose01 @minalovesyoubabes @thedevax @arquiiva @freehentai @vonev @rue-ting @darkfairy102190 @iamv1n @teresalesbian @killykstudio @topreice @artyanimi@hrlzy @mikotoguilty @ceoofmiguel @jotarossshark @i-want-to-be-your-dreamgirl @arquiiva @loonalockley @spiderwriter2099 @mikotoguilty @scaleniusrm @angel-xx-1 @siidmm @tayleighuh @zaunsin @imheretoread @lazyotakuofficial @callmeurslxt-pls @angelaut0matec @vonev

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[jolalibrary]

i wasn’t sure if I wanted to say something or not. but, I saw the post that @moonlitbirdie did here with the addition from @tonysopranosrobe and I guess it inspired me to be a little braver with my honesty.

because at the end of the day, this is my blog? it’s my thing I’ve taken and nurtured, and watered and made my own.

so lemme start with I’m aware it is humanly impossible to be everyone’s cup of tea, and I do not expect to be. but before the last week or so, I’d naively thought that if I wasn’t, those people would bow out politely from my life/space.

but that blog showed me that isn’t the case, and that sucked.

there are far more adjectives and words I’d love to say to describe my feelings on that blog and that situation. to describe the hurt and the sadness I’ve felt, not just for the words said about me but about moots, friends and others I see in the community I love being in. but I think I would never stop talking and we all have lives.

so I’ll get to the point of what this is.

normally, I wouldn’t address things publicly, but this time I want to put my foot down, to say a few things.

I might seem more confident in recc’ing myself, but that isn’t because I was faking it before. instead, it’s because I have good people in my life, and good friends who I might not have had before taking the time to let me hold some space in my life. who have reminded me that it’s okay to toot my fucking horn sometimes, and it doesn’t make me a bad person even if it feels bad.

they remind me that it’s okay to celebrate with cake when I finish a series I’ve worked really, really hard on. and those same good people are also ones who politely and virtually slap me when I begin talking shit on myself, who have helped me begin to forge a better relationship with the warring voices in my head—the writer who wishes to write and the girl with no self esteem who wishes to crawl into a ball each time she posts.

next, I know for some, it may have seemed like I was okay. that the normal posting on here was it running off my back like water. but it wasn’t. it was hard to come into a space where it felt like people hated me, and where people would send in asks about other people I’m friends with or care for or know. because even if it’s only a few asks, it feels like more, because I don’t know who is screenshotting and agreeing with it. and once you begin tumbling down that thought-cliff there’s no stopping you.

again, I’m aware I’m not perfect. i make mistakes, I try to learn from them, and I do not expect to be everyone’s fave person. but anon hate is not a thing I’d wish even on the people I personally dislike, and I’ve had it on and off pre that blog appearing. I’ve deleted and deleted, blocked and reported, and then that blog came and then it was out there, and I could do nothing. I just had to stare and read it, had to hope that people knew who I was.

and look, I say none of this for sympathy, but more an acknowledgment that not everything that stands past the ground shaking is stable. that people don’t always know or feel able to ask or share that they’re hurting. and then it’s isolating, it’s dark and it’s fucking lonely.

which is what leads me to my final thing, which is thank you. thank you to every single person who has reached out to check if I’m okay, to offer the option of a vent or a thot, and the ones that have even just sent love hearts. and also thank you to those who have thought about sending something to me or instead disputed or reported that blog.

I know on the post above by birdee and commented on by han mentions about checking in with people, and I just want to echo that point so loud. if you’re unsure what to do it this happens again (maybe not even now - god I hope - or in this fandom, but in the future) from someone who was mentioned, it’s check in.

similar to han (you worded it perfectly and I’m going to butcher it) it validated how shitty I was feeling, it allowed me to feel okay taking space to be mad and to be sad, because someone else was agreeing it was wrong. those things seem easy on the surface until your North Star has gone, until your upside down and topsy turvy. and if you’re reading this and thinking “bit fucking dramatic jo” then I ask you to kindly unfollow me, no hard feelings, or anything.

because in my eyes, anyone would feel a little disconcerted when their hobby doesn’t feel safe or provide the same comfort it did. when your hobby is the thing you look forward to, and then you can’t enjoy it because there’s a thousand thoughts running around and it feels so anxiety provoking. and yeah, I know there will be people who will go “it’s just tumblr” but I’ve been here a while, this isn’t my first rodeo here, and I just never wish for anyone else to feel like this. ever. no one deserves the hobby they love to be tarnished by shadows that shout and spew things, that you can’t fight back against, because you don’t know who they are.

but kind voices eventually break through and smother the unkind ones. they do. they have.

and I know for me, those check ins and messages brought me comfort when I needed it. they helped.

so if you’re unsure what to do, take comfort that a little love does help. it isn’t magic, it doesn’t fix it all, but it does make a difference, and that matters too.

[bulbabutt]

yooooooo all i do lately is vent vent vent uhhh

itsssss really annoying to feel traumatized over shit that doesnt actually matter at all but you cant feel like a person who functions cuz of it

like. mkay, few years ago i did a stupid thing which was uh. pre coming out but post taking testosterone tell this girl ('girl' she was older than me, im an adult but sos she) i that i was trans. then that i had a crush on her. like a fucking idiot, i was like 'girl pretty girl nice maybe i can finally have something'

and the thing was like. we had this lax fucking job that didnt matter, we were both basically running this shitty lil store nobody came in for the christmas season. and like i had admitted id never done anything, but i should have noticed it was gonna be weird quicker, cuz while she was understanding of like 'ok yeah youre a dude i get that' it was. hmm. it wasnt really like she felt like that, and she didnt notice so much that shit she would say hurt my feelings. like this was so unserious honestly, but uh the thing abt taking t in your mid 20s is youre like... right im... im going through a literal puberty and being stupid as a teenager. im bad with expressing my feelings normally cuz of that.

anyway. it was a fling really. it was stupid and shouldnt have happened, and it probably hurt me more than i thought, but she got like... jealous of one of the employees who id known from a prev job... who to me was like. literally a child (cuz like, id known her since she was) and that made me feel so weird, cuz i was like ?? why the hell would i be thinking about her like that i havent done ANYTHING that would make you think that. and hello i only said i liked you ? but then i guess the age gap was the same in her eyes and so that might have been why she thought that. but like pfft if youre ~25 dating a ~30 yr old its whatever thats normal. going the other way gets weirder ESP if uh. HELLO i was this kids boss?? that was so weird that she felt like that. i guess cuz i was just better at getting along w people younger than me, as someone who isnt a TRUE millennial, someone whos pop culture references lean gen z or whatever. idk i just know kids like my vibe for some reason. there was NEVER anything else going on i was just... being chill? but that was enough to cause jealousy.

but like yeah theres only so many 3 weeks in 'i dont think this is a good idea i think im bad for you' texts you can get before you just go 'yeah you know what i dont wanna do this anymore actually thats fine no hard feelings'

but i tend to be a person who just cant socialize with people for long periods of time, i ghost people a lot, i dont have a history of having friends i dont know how to maintain relationships, but also i really didnt want to at this point. i felt really gross about it and embarrassed for putting myself out there and admitting a secret about myself.

anyway next year rolls around and i see her at the next job season and she tells me she and another coworker found my tiktok page (cuz shit forcibly adding your contacts IS THE DEVIL) and uh. she had to explain to said coworker that i was trans. which. felt like shit. obviously. i was still not out.

anyway THAT person was a piece of shit who talked down to me and acted like i was terrible at my job and brought aLL the personal shit up as if i had ever trusted HER with any of it. like using my new chosen name in texts and shit to call me out for nothing. i had to give her a fucking 'excuse me, you dont get to call me that i never fucking told you that and its WEIRD that you think you get to call me that just cuz you invaded my privacy.'

she literally told both my bosses about all my private shit with this girl. like all that stupid bullshit about how we had dated and it didnt go well, she spread my private shit. and like... it all... ugh. like i got told by said bosses 'hey. none of what she said is important at all dont even worry about it.' and i really appreciated that. but that year was so bad for me, i felt like i was being watched like everything i did was being misconstrued. everything blew up so fast if there was something sma,, and it was 100% that person making it worse.

next year i just came out finally just was like. yeah alright. got a beard now, had my tits removed, might as well. and everyone was chill. personal beef spreading bitch didnt come back (the bosses were glad of that) shit was chill. was on friendly terms with "ex" being normal, never had any beef that year. was very much a 'the beef we had the previous year was this bitch egging her on'. i was partially running store. everything was fine i thought.

next year. as it turns out? was not asked to help run store that year. was very confused, there was a slot to fill that no one else could and i wasnt asked to do it. instead they had this absolute bigot who made everyone and i mean EVERYONE who worked there so uncomfortable, abusive language bigoted talk, wouldnt let people leave if they were sick ass piece of shit.. yeah he got the job. and everyone complained, but hes friends with the boss so whatever.

anyway reached my wits end. quit mid season. was fine, i was moving anyway, it was whatever.

you know why i wasnt asked to have that job? cuz the ex. for some reason without thinking, said 'yeah ill come back but i dont want him to be in charge after last year'. and she... never told me there was any problem. and that hurt me so bad. like talking to other people who were there, it all seemed like... okay, i was good at my job and would just.. act like a boss and not a friend sometimes. like be the guy going 'hey can you like. go do __ i need to count the till i dont have time to hear your funny joke rn'. and she took it personally. like its fine if youre sensitive to stuff, but i was under so much stress a lot and i dont always handle it well.

and that beef she had that she didnt tell me about turned into me losing a job, losing my sanity, feeling utterly betrayed and forcing everyone else who worked there to deal with the biggest pos as a boss with no repercussions. i heard from people post quitting i was being talked shit about by my prev bosses TO the employees. for the crime of... complaining about a bigot. who was misgendering me, being racist to other employees, making the teens feel unsafe to be around. like this was a SCREAMING old man kind of shit.

and all because the ex, initially, made a comment about not wanting me to be in charge. and i just... i really dont even know what i did. it was so underhanded. and when i asked her about it, she just said 'no i didnt say i WOULDNT work under you i just said i HOPED you wouldnt be in charge, and weeks later i asked why you werent in charge' but like??? no. you literally said something that cost me a job. you did. theres no taking that back, you didnt tell me any beef you had with me, you clearly equated job stress with personal stress. you cost me a job! YOU did that you set off a chain of events! and like i cant even begin to explain how much i helped her with shit at jobs. like i kind of took all the responsibility but we were both being paid the same. i would get called every day by her being confused by things while i was at home and help walk her through shit. it was fine, i was stressed but i was fine i never held it against her!

and she like. blew up that entire shit. that whole job i loved got blown up cuz i thought i trusted a person. like was it entirely her fault? obviously not. but that kind of shit.. it just hurt. the idea that i trusted her with my own shit years ago, then time and time again that blew up in my face until i just cant look back at any of it happily anymore makes me so upset. 8 years of a job i loved w a friend, and it all got ruined cuz i said 'hey by the way, im trans' and that spiralled into something stupid.

and i havent had a job since for SOOOOOOME REASON..... i sit at home doing fuck all cuz i cant stand the idea of being around anybody again. i dont trust anybody. i dont feel safe talking to people, being in public, having a job... its so stupid and i hate everything.

also the whole. got clocked and almost punched had my 6 ft brother not been standing near me at the time thing. so now i am uh. just completely agoraphobic.

anyway. sorry i am just in a bad place lately.

[eliotquillon]

hahahaha this is a definite overshare but my life is insane at the moment and i need to vent. massive tw for drugs below. things that have happened to me in the past week:

-best friend overdosed and i spent all of friday night trading shifts looking after him/trying to keep him conscious (he is fine now). this has genuinely traumatised me

-found out my ex started sleeping with her current girlfriend during her finals, less than a month after she dumped me specifically to focus on her finals (because she ‘felt guilty’ about having to spend more time studying than with me and i ‘deserved better’)

-aforementioned ex broke 6 months of no contact to ask if she could attend my best friend’s intervention post-overdose. also offered to ‘have a conversation’ with me 1-1 beforehand which i declined for obvious reasons lmao

-ATTENDED my best friend’s intervention wherein my ex, who took fucking ketamine in my best friend’s room while he was overdosing, implicitly accused ME of being a heavy drug user in front of everyone. i do not know where the hell she got this from given that a) it is blatantly untrue (i can count the times i have smoked weed EVER on two hands and apart from the one time i tried ket i have never done anything else), b) she saw me turn down drugs that were offered to me multiple times when we were together either because it was medically unsafe for me to try them with the meds i’m on or because i straight up just didn’t want to. but it is very ironic given that she herself will freely admit that she has a drug problem!

-booked a doctors appointment for the random inexplicable bruising ive been getting for the past few weeks bc i figured i was just anaemic but it turns out they suspect i might have a bleeding disorder so i have to have a whole bunch of blood tests next week !

-this is nowhere near as bad as any of the above but i ordered a vegan pizza and when it arrived there was regular cheese on it so i couldn’t eat it and i had to call them 5 times to get a refund because they kept hanging up on me. this was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back and i just sobbed.

anyway. fuck my stupid baka life i guess. i am so TIRED.

[wclking-fire]

HEALTH UPDATE

trigger heavy: vent tw, hospital tw, illness tw, blood mention tw and I guess harassment? a few comments were made, just read with caution please!

✿ Please know I am doing much better now, I am resting although I now think I have chronic fatigue from the fever which is a pain in the butt but I am glad I have recovered well. ✿

✿ Meowdy! I have something of a health update. So, remember that cafe job I got? Well it wasn't a job, it was a trial run. Basically free labour for them. Yeah. That started as a weeks trial and then some how stumbled into a month and then stumbled into two month trial, even though I mentioned my aim was to make money for christmas but whatever I guess. As the days went by I went from doing around three hours for three days to six days and almost doing six/seven hours worth of work. WITHOUT PAY I MIGHT ADD. Anyway that isn't even the worst thing. Get this. A month in I get bacterial tonsillitis and I am on a course of penicillin for ten days. They still have me working in the cafe, the only day I had off was when I booked the GP appointment to get my throat checked. Five days in and my tonsils are getting worse and worse and I am struggling to breathe at night like near on choking out. This employer is seeing how I am like during hours working and still doesn't let me go home and they still ask me to do more hours with each passing day. I have a fever, I am working seven hours on two hours of sleep, I am covering staff that don't get punished, they get sent to the back where I am front of house and just doing everything, I am stumbling over my feet because my ears are going with the tonsillitis. BUT GET THIS. IT GETS SO SO BAD I HAD TO GO TO HOSPITAL BECAUSE MY GP THINKS IT IS GLANDULAR FEVER. So, I get sent to hospital and turns out I had bacterial tonsillitis and glandular fever. The blood tests came back that my liver function was up, my temp was 38.6 which is deadly and my blood pressure was 167/93. I had fluids and went on my way, but like what the fuck? Like I have just had the absolute piss ripped out of me. Granted I said yes to all the times they asked me to come in so maybe it is my fault too, but still. If you can't tell someone is that ill??? Like really?? I sounded worse each day. Not to mention the texts messages sent were not showing any mercy like I said the doctor recommended two days off. They didn't they told me to go back when I felt better, but I was stubborn and told said employer 'oh they said two days off.' The employer responded. 'If you wanna come in tomorrow that is totally fine.' Then I was like well shit. I have to come in now... Lot of guilt tripping. They told me to call them next time I was off because it wasn't nice to read that I was off from a text??? LIKE WHAT-???? Then when I phoned them again about the whole thing it was just sighing like it was my fault I was ill??? News flash, you get glandular fever from scrubbing dirty dishes and guess what my job was. The scary part is that glandular fever affects the liver and spleen if I knocked my spleen whilst I was working it could of ruptured. Not to mention the sexual comments made to me like insinuating I performed sexual acts for a taxi ride I laughed it off but I shouldn't have and the comments about my weight like bleh. ✿

TLDR: The person who hired me for the free labour worked me into the ground whilst I had bacterial tonsillitis and glandular fever. After my trip to the hospital they sent me a message saying 'have they fixed you?' and I am like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK-

[fyeahkaimelia]

this has Nothing to do w greys anatomy and i havent even been active here (but hey, this season is back so i just might be too) but i need to vent somewhere and i can’t do it on main cause irl ppl follow me there. i don’t even mind them knowing these things like its not a secret or anything but idk it’s weird

i owe ab r$ 130.000 to my university. every year i Don’t Pay the bills and owe them a huge amount of money and then they let me pay like 1/5 or even 1/6 of what i owe to be able to enroll in the next school year. i’m currently starting 4th year of med school (it’s 6 years long). this time they said they’d only do that thing where i pay a fifth of what i owe now and leave the rest to pay “later” if i use a credit card, which i don’t have — all my payments have always been thru debit yk. and i can’t get a credit card cause i owe the bankS (plural, i owe money to like every bank in the country) like over 200k from loans i’ve taken before, which i’ll never pay them back probably (it’s okay, i don’t have anything to my name so they can’t legally take anything from me cause of it). which is why i obviously also can’t get a loan.

i currently have about 40k. i’m selling my shitty car for 7k, i have a solid buyer, so i guess i have ab 47k. i’m trying to sell a shitty studio apartment in a bad neighborhood for 70k, even though it’s worth ab 120k, just to try to get it sold as fast as possible. i work a part time honest job for less than a minimum wage and i use that money to “pitch in” and help pay the bills (i live w my mom and she pays for everything but sometimes we fall short).

and i sell stuff on the side. how much i sell is directly related to how much extra cash i need that month, but it’s usually around 1k. if i really put myself out there i can make much, much more, and i usually avoid that so i don’t get too well known™, but recently (since like november) i’ve been doing that, and making ab 5k a month (which is how i’ve been saving money these past few months), and i’m currently facing the opportunity of expanding that further and maybe even make up to 10k a month from selling my stuff alone, but i’m not sure if i’ll do that cause i think people are already getting too comfy introducing my services™ to other ppl, and i even got a street name. that was sort of a wake up call for me. i sometimes get texts from strange numbers that’ll be like “hey, [insert friend’s name] gave me ur number” and i check with that friend if they’re cool before selling etc, but lately those ‘friends of friends’ all started calling me dr. hu, and it sort of caught on, and ppl who aren’t in any way connected to those ppl told me they’ve heard my “name” (dr. hu) being brought up by strangers in a couple of hang out spots in my neighborhood, and that really made me rethink the whole thing. it’s okay, my neighborhood is pretty chill, there’s not much activity here, there’s only a few parks where young ppl go to have fun, there aren’t any territorial gangs or anything, so at least i’m safe from that. but still.

also, “dr. hu” is a reference to this guy (i didnt get it at first, i thought they were saying dr who first few times i heard it):

ANYWAY. back to the point. i’ve been going to class even though i’m not officially enrolled in this semester yet, cause that’s what my lawyer told me to do, cause we’ll try to get a judge to demand my uni to let me pay in installments w debit or cash or a fucking check like it’s fucking 2007, whatever, just not credit. (idk if it wasn’t clear before, but they let me pay in cash if i pay the entire amount at once, i just don’t have that rn). but if we can’t get a judge to do that (we should find out by next week), my only way out would be if i can sell the apartment until before my exams start — and they start on march 15. otherwise i won’t be able to take the exams and i’ll automatically flunk all my classes, so.

my second option (if both the apartment thing and judge thing fail) would be to transfer to a different uni. that would hurt me deeply cause i like my uni’s curriculum better, it’s the best in the state, and i know i’d be transferring to a uni that isn’t as good. and mostly cause i’m already so integrated in my uni, i have my friends and my academic leagues and i’ve been a pharma TA (which gives me a 20% scholarship) and intended to keep on it, and i write papers for it and i had big plans to write ab some of my special interests in pharma (yea drugs are a special interest to me fr lol) and get to show them in medical conferences etc.

and there’s my bf. he’s the best thing ab uni to me tbh, he’s the reason i wake up in the morning exhausted but still excited to go to class cause he’ll be there. and it’s hard for us to see each other cause we both have jobs that demand a lot from us (i work as an “assistant” to er doctors — they pay me directly to do their work part time so they can sleep or study for residency undisturbed during part of their shifts, and he works with politics). so we only rly see each other out of class like once a week; and it’s fine cause we see each other in class almost everyday and we skip class to get high and make out on campus sometimes (like fucking teenagers ik ik), but all of that will be gone if i transfer. i’ll be lucky if i get to see him for a few hours a week. and it kinda feels like my world will colapse if that happens. i know it’s dramatic but idk, he’s kinda the light of my life rn. i know i’d get over it, i’d get over him if i had to, but i don’t want it to come to that, i really don’t, cause i’m in love & i genuinely believe we could have the life of our dreams together soon enough

anyway. transferring would genuinely be horrible but i’d get used to it. i’m already getting used to that possibility. yesterday it felt like it was the end of the world, i sobbed like a child just for considering it for a second, it felt like when ur a kid and everything gets taken away from u and u find out the world is a cruel and unjust place for the first time (i got sent to an international boarding school at age 6 man idk that’s how it felt like). but now i’m already more accepting of that possibility. i’d survive it, i’ve survived much worse, and i’d learn to enjoy it (in a bittersweet way). i’d probably lose touch with my best friend from uni (which SUCKS ASS cause he’s one of the best friends i’ve ever had, friends like him are hard to come across yk), but i’d make new friends eventually. maybe i’d find a way to make my relationship work. and i’d get to Not pay 130 thousand reais to my uni; bitches didn’t let me pay my way, they ain’t ever seeing money from me again. which would be pretty nice

and my third option, my worst option, is taking a gap year. just pausing everything. i finished 3rd grade in 2022, and i’d start 4th grade in 2024. a gap year. it’d come to that if the couple of unis i’d consider transferring to need me to take extra classes (essentially “repeat” some classes i’ve already taken) because of curriculum differences. it’d suck so, so much, but i’m still tryna prepare myself mentally for that possibility. honestly med school is my life. idk how i’d cope without medicine. honestly i skip class all the time and i hate some of my classes and i hate working with clinical medicine (which i’m required to do as a student) but still, my life kinda revolves around the fact that i’m on my way to becoming a doctor. it’s kind of what i live for. i’m not a straight As student, i’ve never been a pleasure to have in class, i get Bs and mostly Cs and i don’t study for my classes like i should, i don’t turn in my assignments, i’m essentially a very Bad student, but medicine is still my life. pharmacology and anesthesiology are my special interests. reading the entire goodman & gilman book for fun several times kinda thing. and i feel like that’s what i’m worth. i know it’s not healthy, but my entire sense of self worth is based on my academic life. which is ridiculous cause i’m not even a good student! but having mediocre grades and only studying for the few classes that i actually enjoy somehow is enough for me to feel ok ab myself. not great, i don’t have awesome self esteem, but okay enough yk. but my self esteem will go to zero so fast if i simply don’t have an academic life anymore.

and what would i do with a gap year? i’d probably work more, and maybe sell more, and maybe, just maybe, i’d work on myself. study more ab the things i’m interested in, go to the gym, help my mom w her garden. but the truth is i’d probably fall into a self destructive pattern of sleeping all day and binge eating and doing drugs. letting dirty dishes pile up all over my room, wearing the same set of pjs for weeks, not washing my hair like ever. eventually stop going to work, never leave the house. start getting social anxiety, avoiding all my friends, shutting down completely. going days without eating or seeing a single person irl. it’s happened before more than a few times, i know how i can be. i’ve had enough clinical depression episodes. and i think it could go harder than ever before (the worst one i’ve ever had was in 2017, when i spent 2 months in bed).

ok i kinda spiraled there. maybe that wouldn’t happen. it probably wouldn’t happen. and one good thing is i’d definitely find a way to make more money, so i could actually spend some on something other than bills. i could finally get the tattoos i want. ok but that’s the only silver lining i can find. and even if i didn’t fall into a depression™, would my relationship survive it? cause yea, i’d have time and money to see him, work around his schedule since he’d be busier than me, but i’d feel like shit. i’d feel like i’m worth less than him because he’d be too ahead of me academically, and i’d be stagnated. i can’t explain it.

[amelia-d0e]

TW Injections, blood, needles, bit of a vent

Just completely FUCKED my last injection of E so I guess I'm screwed till my planned parenthood appt next week. Injections don't even hurt that much I just keep fucking it up. I started bleeding more than usual and the E flowed out with the blood like how do keep I screwing it that badly??? It's literally as simple as sticking the needle in the right spot. I might switch back to pills just cause I suck bad at this. I was doing so well with it them the first few weeks too :/

[winderlylandchime]

I actually had QueerAnon as my number 1 podcast omg. Hopefully that tips off Jordan and Randy that they need to get their asses back to recording.

I honestly think the therapist knows about the show. I mean from what my brother has told me about him, the guy is around the same age as my brother and they’ve talked about movies, tv shows and music so I feel like he either knows it since the beginning or went to look it up. But the idea of him not knowing and just knowing my brother will lose his mind when his beloved show is over, is equally funny. I mean my brother vented to him about Brian getting cancer and about Ethan so he’s seen him at his worst throughout this show.

And as for the last few episodes: His plan is to watch them all at once. One after the other. Today. So I hate to report that the ‘straight man watches qaf in the year of our lord 2023’ is officially coming to an end. Do you remember that scene in Finding Nemo when the fishes try to escape from the tank and the starfish says ‘THE TANK IS CLEAN!’? Well he woke up today, walked into the kitchen and quoted the whole scene but changed it a bit, so it was: ‘good morning! Todays the day! The sun is shining, im watching the last episodes and I am finishing the sho- IM WATCHING THE LAST EPISODES!’ He even filmed himself and sent it to our family group chat and to his friends thinking how funny he is and immediately afterwards I got bunch of texts from our cousins, our uncle, our parents and 3 of his friends. And literally every single one of them is worried how he will handle it. My cousins basically said ‘good luck’ (they know how it ends and they also told majority of the family). My uncle is now fully involved (but only for his entertainment purposes) but he does think my brother might experience a mental breakdown after he sees the finale. His husband and him over the weekend watched the finale to try and judge how he will react and according to my uncle when the credits rolled, his husband looked at him and went ‘oh he is soooo fucked.’ And his friends told me that he told them he thinks it will be a happy finale bc no way would anyone do all that and then not make sure they end up happy, together and in love. They even brought up the Iron Man aftermath and im worried they’re right. So heartbreak is inevitable.

I will try my absolute hardest to send updates as soon as we finish the finale. But I apologize in advance if it either ends up being sent really fucking late at night or really fucking early in the morning. I already know I’m gonna be a mess watching the finale (i think I’ve seen it only a handful of times, maybe even less) but i am not ready to witness that first ever heartbreak due to the finale that my brother is only hours away from experiencing. It’s been years since I first saw it and i still remember how much it hurt so rip to the straight man. So who the fuck knows what his reaction will be to literally any of the next 4 episodes but especially the finale.

I'm guessing that the tumblr fandom is responsible for that podcast's listens this year. And I do hope Spotify wrapped sends up the bat signal that they need to make more episodes! C'mon Jordan and Randy!

I agree, it is just as funny for the therapist to think "I have no idea what is going to happen but Brother Anon is so unhinged about this, no matter what, it's going to be a crisis."

RIP to the tag "a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023" after this week. Btw, instant regret for choosing such a long tag but oh well! I'm not even christian! It is NOT the year of my lord... lol.

I'm glad the whole family is aware that this is going to ROUGH (understatement of the year) on your brother. I think having some things to help him immediately will be helpful - an episode of QueerAnon, a bts youtube clip, a favorite fanfic - and maybe letting him know there is a whole group of us cheering him on? Like he's heartbroken but he has friends he never even knew were out there? IDK.

Good luck. Don't worry about what time your messages come in. I have a super busy day tomorrow, so if I don't get to them, that's not a sign of anything. I just have a doctor's appointment (where I will *not* discuss qaf with my doctor) and then a bunch of appointments straight through until night.

Good luck and godspeed dear sweet anon. I have the feeling you're going to need it.

[morganwrites12672]

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Billy falls in love with the Hawkins 'keg queen'. He loves her and she loves him, what happens when he finds out her life isn't everything he thought it was.

TW: Self blame, underage drinking, emotional abuse, mentioned abuse, mentions of SH,

He was in love. Billy 'Keg King' Hargrove; was in love. The second he saw her hop off the keg after beating him and stealing his title; he fell so damn hard.

She hopped off the keg, beer running down her chin. She was clapped on the back as the other party goers cheered; incredibly impressed that a girl could take Billy's place.

She wiped the beer off with the sleeve of her black leather jacket. His thoughts were interrupted by assholes.

"How's it feel to get your ass handed to you; by a girl?"

"Going to defend your title ex'keg king'," Billy listens to their taunts as he waves them off. They persist so he agrees to try to defend his title.

After chugging as much beer as possible, he hops off. Looking at the guys they just frown. How was she better?

"Y/N beat you by almost thirty seconds, guess you lost your title to the new keg queen," one of the guys snide as Billy walks off

He finds you with a bottle of Vodka sitting in the garden. He then also notices you light a cigarette. Why would you hop off of the keg just to drink more and get high?

It didn't make sense. That would make one nasty hangover. He frowns as he walks over to you. He was more concerned then he should be for a girl he just met.

"Hello, Hargrove. If you're here to punch me or get revenge, I'll give you a free one. Probably deserve it," she says to him with her back toward him. Why would she assume he wanted to hit her?

"I don't hit women," he replies. He didn't think he could ever. It was wrong.

She is not amused by his reply. She takes a drag of her cig before knocking down a swallows worth of Vodka.

"Why? So, because I'm a girl you're not going to beat the shit out of me?" She scoffs. Billy knows he has fucked up. He thinks he likes this girl.

A lot.

"Look, regardless if gender I wouldn't be beating you up," Billy turns on the charm. She is obviously different then most girls; not going to be impressed by any title or cool car he would have

"Well, I need to go," she quickly says stubbing out her cig and grabbing the neck of the half empty bottle. She stalked off to go find her friends and get their drunk asses home.

Billy watched in wonder as she left. Why was he being turned on by a girl beating him? Taking his title? His dignity? He didn't know; nor did he care as he watched how perfect she looked, dressed to kill.

_ Four Months later_

You enter your house. Back from another date with Billy. He had asked you out within a few weeks of you stealing his title.

He was great. But you were Kate and going to get an earful. You and Billy only went to parties to redeem your title every week. He instsited that you can't just give it up that easy.

He has tried to get your secrets but you said he had to wait for the four months anniversary and then you would reveal your magic trick.

"Where were you?" Your mom's voice is poison laced and clearly very pissed. You let out a nervous gulp.

"I had a date," you inform and straighten your posture. She might just let you go easy. Might.

"So, you what? Go whore your self of for a night? Hmmm," she hisses at you. You hadn't slept with Billy on this date.

"No ma'am , I didn't sleep with anybody," you reply and start to take a step towards your room. Bottom floor, almost hidden next to the staircase.

"Fine. You stupid bitch. Just remember what you do is affecting the whole family. Everytime you go on dates, you give us all a bad reputation," your mother says before scoffing at your appearance and getting the hell out. Off to go vent to one of her snooty friends.

"Failure," she mumbles as she exits. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Then another. You open your eyes and count five things you feel. Your jeans were rough. You reach out and glide your fingers over the counter top. It was smooth and cold. your t-shirt was nice and soft. You ran a hand through your hair. It was silky and soft. You grab your keys before tossing them back. Cold and hard.

You hold back the tears. Of course she would say that. It's mostly true. All of those dates before Billy could have ruined your family. You should have been more careful.

Your mom did this far to often. She would be back in a few days. When she got back you would be given hell, but until then you were free.

You grab a bottle of vodka and take a swig. It didn't burn anymore. You started drinking in freshman year. Some girls cut, you just drank. The vodka burned your throat and your mother's words burnt your heart.

You take another gulp of the slightly burning liquid. It just needed a minute to kick in, thank God.

"Lucas?" You heard a younger girls voice ask.

"Sorry, Max. It's just me," you say.

You can hear the disappointment in her voice as she answers,"Billy?" She asks you and you tell her yes.

You hear her step away before pounding foot steps came. It wasn't very late, barely past midnight. You knew he wouldn't be awake. He never was. You were grateful for Max being so helpful in your relationship. She had gotten a phone in her room for her birthday and that was how you had called your lover.

"Baby?" You hear him ask. You can already see the smirk on Max's face from her brother being so vulnerable.

"Can you come over?" You ask. He hears the pain in your voice and mumbles something before saying yes and slamming the phone down.

You sit with your back to the couch, crosslegged as you take another drink. The liquor didn't burn enough. Not even close. Not even close to the burning in your heart..the pain.

You hear a pounding on your door before billy steps in. You hop up from your spot and walk towards him. He knew what was happening. He thought he did; you were being abused.

You are engulfed by his arms as he picks you up and grabs the bottle before going to your room. He knew, or thought he did.

"Where?" He asks as he sets you down the bottle goes on your dresser. You give him a questionable look.

"Where what?"

"I know your mom hits you."

"She doesn't, it's words," your voice is barely a whisper,

You see the sympathy in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you as you cry. Your mom might be back in a few days, but until then. Until then you could enjoy this. The love. Affection.. it's not like you ever got any at home.

You were happy with Billy. And he was happy with you. Even if for a little bit; you could save each other from the abuse if you'd parents.

______________________________________________

Requests are open! Check my pinned post for details!

[mae-gi-writes]

Calling... | Juyeon (tbz)

Juyeon tbz! x f! reader 

Summary:

Long distance is hard, even for people like you and Juyeon. 

Genre: angst, some fluff, LDR relationship

A/N: some self-indulgent angst because I’ve been feeling low these days and have nowhere/no one to vent it to. 

-----

"We’re going to get through this, Y/N. I promise.” 

That promise. You’re not sure whether that’s a curse or a blessing. Every single day becomes a torturous game between wanting to give up everything that you’ve built with the man of your dreams and pushing forward towards the happy ending you’ve always hoped for. 

It was easier in the beginning. Maybe because you were both so new to the prospect of love, that you didn’t know what you were missing from each other. It only grew harder the more the years went by and though some people said that the pain gets easier, you’re not quite sure whether they’ve supposedly missed out the part where you keep falling deeper in love with him every day. 

Maybe if you didn’t love him so much, it would hurt less. And god, you wished that would happen. You wished a miraculous cure would numb the swell in your chest every time you had a spare moment to think of what Juyeon was doing. You wished that it would stop the familiar burn of tears tearing your throat apart every time you forced yourself to keep down your choked cries for the sake of not crying. Because you were sick of that too.

This kind of pain is toxic and unsurmountable, to an extent that you start wondering whether life would be easier without Juyeon around. 

"A few more months Y/N,” Juyeon says, face taking up your phone screen as you put the device onto your nightstand in favour of curling your knees up to your chest. You’re trying very hard not to cry, and hope that he can’t see the silent tears slipping past your lids, “it’ll go by quickly, I--” 

“Yeah yeah, I know,” you mumble out, having already heard this mantra over a thousand times. It’s the same thing, after all. A few more months, a little bit more time, just a little-- you’re so fed up of all this waiting, of everyone telling you the exact same thing. 

You’re so sick of it. You can’t even look at the camera anymore.

"Where...Where do you think we stand?” comes his question. A little hesitant, but without any stutter. And when you look back at his face, you notice the downward cast of his eyes, the saddening turn of his lower lip. 

It’s hurting him just as much and you hate it. You hate how guilty you feel about dragging him into this when he’s only just a victim. 

“What do you mean?” you ask softly. 

Juyeon takes a soft breath, exhales, “like...do you think we have a hundred percent chance? Or...fifty percent? Or...” 

He trails off, but you understand what he means, and shrug while scratching the back of your head, “definitely not a fifty,” you say, biting your lip, “and...there’s nothing that can make me say we’re less than a hundred, but...” 

You’re not certain what to say there. It’s touchy, and you don’t want to hurt your boyfriend more than you are at this particular moment. 

If you had been asked a question a year earlier, there is no doubt your answer would’ve straight up been a hundred percent. And you’d say it with confidence too, Juyeon knows that.

But it hurts so fucking much.

It hurts so much that it’s the only thing you can think about every day. 

It makes you sad. It makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry because there is literally nothing else you can do to take your mind off it. 

"Do you...are you--" his voice wobbles, then breaks off without courage of actually saying the words out loud, "I--"

You shake your head, lips trembling as you murmur, "I'm not--I`m not gonna do that, Juyeon."

You fear that saying the words out loud might make it come true. And you don't want to imagine what that would be like, even if you entertain the possibility at the back of your mind.

The silence overcrowds the distance between you and the phone. For a minute, you can't bear to meet Juyeon's eyes. Your fingers start picking your nails apart, a nervous habit you've manifested whenever you get anxious.

When Juyeon speaks next, his words are laced with pain and he doesn't even try holding back a sob, "please," he exhales shakily and even from your tiny screen, you can see the redness lining his eyes, "please don't break up with me."

Your heart aches at the sadness etched onto his features, "I'm not," you repeat it more firmly then, "I won't."

He doesn't answer. But then again, you've probably shocked him to the core.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," you say quietly.

"No, it's okay. I--" running a hand through his dark locks, you note his jaw clenching, "I didn't know you felt this way. I'm the one that should be sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"It is, though isn't it?" He chuckles emptily, "I guess I...I'm not doing enough."

"That's not it, Juyeon. It hurts a lot. This, everything. And I'm just tired. I'm tired of always crying. I'm just so fucking tired."

And then you burst into ugly sobs.

----

The weather has gotten warmer now that June is in full swing. Your final semester is over and that means a little bit of freedom before starting your job search. It is enjoyable and peaceful, walking across town with your friends, meeting up at odd hours of the day and finding new treasures that your town has to offer.

You are currently in the middle of parking your bike next to the harbourfront when your phone suddenly buzzes in your pant leg.

"Hey," you say as you pick up the receiver, "what's up?"

"Hey," there's a little bit of static before Juyeon'a voice comes through, "I'm good. What about you?"

"I'm at the harbourfront. Getting some air."

"That's nice," a pause, then, "how was it?"

"I think I might have enjoyed it more than I should've," you tell him as you walk up to the edge of the harbour. The water lolls peacefully against the edge and it calms you down, as the talk has earlier, "it helped. A lot."

He breathes out softly, "that's good to hear. How...how do you feel?"

"Surprisingly serene."

"Woah, fancy description."

You can't help but laugh at that, "thanks. I try."

A comfortable silence fills the air and you lean down, hand outstretched to catch some of the waves lapping up along the edge, "and you?" It's been a while since you've managed to speak to Juyeon properly. You miss him, "how have you been?"

"Oh you know," you hear him shuffle, "keeping myself busy. I started working at a skateboard shop. It's been...interesting."

"Do you even know how to skateboard?"

"I can stand straight on one. Does that count?"

You giggle, "no, you goon. You actually have to be able to skate on it."

You talk for a little while longer as you enjoy the peace and quiet that comes with a breathtaking view. Even more breathtaking as the sun slowly sets over the horizon and giving bloom to hues of orange and salmon pink bleeding into the clear blue sky.

It has been nice to talk to someone. As per Juyeon's request a few weeks earlier, you had decided to sign up for a free counselling session. You weren't a big fan of people poking around your thoughts and feelings, but the consultation had actually been really enjoyable. To unleash everything that you've been carrying in your heart is a weight that has suddenly lifted off your chest, and you feel shades lighter as you spend the reat of your evening roaming through town, getting your groceries, walking along the pavement back to your flat.

"I gotta go now," Juyeon says as you unlock your front door, "Changmin's been bugging my ass for thirty minutes."

"Well please tell him I have nothing to do with this."

"You had everything to do with this."

"Lying will get you nowhere."

"And I will tell him anyway," he singsongs, causing you to chuckle good-naturedly. That is, before the next words come to shake up your heart a little.

"I miss you."

You smile softly, sadness combing through your chest, "I do too, Juyeon."

"Stay safe, okay?"

"You too."

"Talk soon Y/N," his voice is filled with a gentleness that makes your heart sing, and you repeat back the said words, a mixture of melancholy and fondness blooming inside your chest.

Ending the call and setting down your groceries atop the kitchen counter, your eyes find the date circled in red.

Your lips curl into a smile.

----

"Flight A472 has arrived. Travelers, please make your way to the luggage section.“

The intercom buzzes with static to repeat the earlier statement and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as you slowly get up from your seat. You've been waiting at the nearby fast food joint until now, and it's no surprise that your butt feels numb and flat.

Stretching your limbs and picking uo your bag, you sling your navy coat over your shoulder and make your way towards the arrivals. The airport is deserted at this time of night and you're grateful, for it gives your heart more time to prepare for the man you haven't seen in over eight months.

Eight months. Eight months is a long time. It's almost the time it takes for a baby to be born. You flush at the thought, wondering whether Juyeon sees you in his future just as permanently as you see him.

"Who are you waiting for?" Your head swivels to see an older woman, in her late fifties, with a handbag slung over her shoulder and a burgundy scarf wrapped around her neck.

"Oh, uh--" heat travela up the back of your neck, "someone close. And you?"

"My daughter. I haven't seen her in over two years," the woman smiles fondly, "it's hard, isn't it? Not being able to see your close ones every day."

"Yeah," you mumble, "it sure is."

Your gaze is now fixated on the sliding doors now that people have started walking out. One by one, you watch as strangers hug their families, laughing and smiling. A couple is embracing in a nearby corner. And the old woman brightening up and waving at the sight of her daughter pulling up her luggage.

Your chest can't help but swell with emotion. What a beautiful thing to be admire the magic of a reunion. Tears rush to your eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of love radiating through your veins and bathinf your limbs in warmth.

"Y/N."

You freeze. Slowly, you turn around and see Juyeon.

Your Juyeon.

He stands there, backpack on his shoulders and hair ruffled. A luggage at his side and sporting a grin.

Your heart explodes.

Heat rushes through your face, mouth opening in a soft 'oh'.

"Juyeon," his name rolls off your lips.

You're breathless. Everything falls out of focus.

Juyeon. Juyeon is here.

Everything happens so fast. You blink and you're in his arms, his warmth engulfinf you, his scent making you light-headed, his lips permanently pressed against your temple as your hands unconsciously scrabble to hold on to his hoodie like he's a dream you don't want to let go.

It's magical. It feels like a goddamn miracle.

You can't help but burst into tears.

"Oh god," Juyeon's chuckle echoes through your ear. He tightens his grip ever so slightly and kisses your forehead, the corner of your eye while stroking your back.

You cling to him like he's your only lifeline, "I missed you," you sob into his shirt, "I missed you so much."

"It's okay," he cooes into your ear, one hand coming up to smooth over your head, "I'm here now, Y/N."

"I--" emotions rush through you like a dam broken down by the tides and suddenly you're babbling everything you've kept hidden in the grooves of your heart, "I'm so sorry for everything, I-- I was hurt and scared and lonely. I didn't think about how this distance affected you too and I'm sorry I made you go through all this when you did nothing wrong, I--"

Your words get muffled by his lips pressing onto yours to stop any other protests and you melt into him like coming home with open arms. His arms pin your middle to his chest, parting your mouth with his and taking your breath away with every suckle, every nibble. It makes you gasp, clutching his shoulders and returning his kisses with just as much vigor.

"You," he breathes against your parted mouth, "are everything I want," pulling back to press his forehead to yours, he continues, "so don't you dare think for one second, that you're in this alone. You're never alone, Y/N."

"I love you," you murmur, nose brushing his. He kisses you once more, heat lingering between you and claiming your affection for him, "I love you too."

You know that this isn't the end. A path of tears and pain and struggle still await you. The mountain is high and steep, a tough climb that makes youe legs tremble.

But you know now, looking into Juyeon's eyes and seeing the magic in there, the dripping affection that makea your fingers tingle, that this is it. There's nobody else, nothing else you want than Lee Juyeon.

Because if there's one thing for sure is that Juyeon's hand is the one you want to take, to make that climb happen.

"Wanna get out of here and tell me everything I've missed out about you?" Juyeon whispers upon finally detangling himself, though still holding on to your shoulder as he gently pulls you towards the exit.

"Only if you tell me everything I've missed about you," you reply.

He chuckles, before pressing another lingering kiss over your cheek, "deal."

[matryosika]

shoot me, chapter IV

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II chapter III chapter IV

word count for this chapter — 4.5 k

warnings — masochism, choking, thigh riding, marking, humilliation, daddy kink, mild praising, kind of harddom!changbin, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of ownership and possessiveness... i think that's it!

note — i have so many ideas in my head that i think i'm failing to land on this series but today i decided to change the dynamic of the chapter a little bit and make the first part of it from changbin's kind-of-perspective so you could understand what's going on behind the actions of the man himself. the whole chapter is filthy smut honestly, i hope you enjoy it tho!

taglist: @cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan @binnie-m00n @minaamhh

*

[12:17 a.m. Changbin]

i don't think we should to that again

it was a mistake

i just needed to vent but honestly, getting with you can really damage my future and that's not something i'm willing to jeopardize for sex.

the dark-haired man held his phone to his chest as he thought about the words of the message that he just sent you.

it wasn't a lie though, the fact that he was afraid to fuck up his future for a night of sex, but his insides were on fire everytime he was near you, his soul aching for the same thing his mind wanted.

before you could even reply his dry messages, changbin got on his car and drove all the way to his place, contemplating on whether he should have a drink or two to try and deal with the mess of the decisions he was making.

he knew it wasn't going to be easy to have self-control around you specially because he was doomed to see you almost on a daily basis at arthur's house or the company, that being the main reason behind why he decided to send that message: because he didn't wanted things to get uncomfortable at places where the two of you should act like a couple of good friends, and nothing more.

he didn't went to your place because he needed to vent or fix his sexual frustrations with your body; he went there because, after the night of the bar, he couldn't forget the image of you as a goddess. he couldn't forget your taste, your skin, the way your hips involuntarily grinded while he was eating you out, your body following every order he gave you as if your only purpose in life was to satisfy him.

and as the days passed by, it was harder and harder for him to repress the idea of you in his bed. him owning your body, fucking you countless days and nights. the more he got the know you, the more his desires increased; even when you were talking about your childhood memories at seoul with changbin's parents in an attempt to try and avoid any kind of conversation with him, he couldn't stop thinking how attractive you were to his eyes.

*

Changbin's perspective

[9:54 p.m. Changbin]

i'm here

don't take too long

changbin rested his whole body weight on the drivers seat, ready to wait for -at least- another 15 minutes to be able to drive to chan's house. he was certain you were going to be there as ryujin told chan, and chan told him.

he knew all along that he wanted to have you in any way, but he also knew that his pride wouldn't allow him to make the first move after he was the one who cutted any kind of sexual ties between the two of you.

after 2 minutes, and for changbin's surprise, soyeon didn't took any longer to appear at the lobby of her complex, waving goodbye at the doorman.

"you didn't took long" changbin said, waiting for her to get inside the car.

"you were the one who made me wait" soyeon replied, getting comfortable at the car's seat.

"yeah i had things to do" the man replied as he started to drive towards chan's party that wasn't too far from the place he was at now. soyeon was changbin's best friend since highschool, something strange because he was never too fond of hanging out with women in a way that wasn't entirely sexual.

"so" the blonde one mumbled "you do realize that this plan is pathetic?"

changbin scoffed as his eyes were fixed on the road "if you don't want to help me just say so"

"it's not that" she replied "it's just that is ten times easier to just approach her than to try and make her jealous just to see if she approaches you first. not only is easier but more... mature"

"do you really want to talk about maturity, soyeon?" changbin teased "that's bold coming from the girl who breaks up with her partner every 3 weeks and then gets back together"

"you don't have to be mean" she pouted, giving changbin a soft hit on his arm. "i'm trying my best"

changbin exhaled harshly as he was looking for a place to park his car. "you don't have to do anything, just act like you are with me"

"you are so lame" soyeon said, getting ready to leave the car as changbin finished parking "i really hope she is with another man too so you can cut the crap and act like a man your age"

"whatever"

changbin left the car and opened the door for the girl to get out too. the party had started, at least, 2 hours ago so he knew he was late and everyone else was probably drunk already. not that he cared though.

soyeon entered the house grabbing changbin's left arm, her eyes dancing around the crowded living room trying to catch a glimpse of the girl that was making changbin act like a highschooler. "it would be very useful if you told me how the fuck does she looks like" she screamed, squirming and dodging the drunk people that were dancing around in the living room.

"don't act too obvious" changbin muttered in her ear "i'm not even sure she is still here, she probably left.

changbin and soyeon walked further into the house as they greeted chan and the rest of the boys, congratulating jeongin on his birthday who was too drunk to even reply.

"there's alcohol in the kitchen and the courtyard, if you want to start there" chan said, ryujin gripping his arm while she ocasionally stumbled on her place.

"you got a girlfriend?" ryujin asked without remorse, pointing at soyeon with her index finger "jesus christ i knew you were a dick"

soyeon looked at her and then at changbin, unsure of what to reply or say. not that she needed to, since ryujin started talking again right after she insulted changbin.

"i'm glad i was smart enough to convince y/n to come to this party, at least she met a man who is going to-"

"okay that's enough" chan said, him being a little more lucid than her. "she is drunk, i'm sorry"

"no worries" soyeon said, watching how chan and ryujin dissapeared into the crowd of people.

"do they know about your little obsession with her?" the blonde one asked, changbin's eyes scanning the whole room.

"i just told chan that i wanted to fuck her, i guess y/n told her the whole story to chan's date. it is her bestfriend, apparently"

"oh"

changbin and soyeon walked to the kitchen to grab a drink, since it was closer than the courtyard. after a few minutes, the search for you was usuccesful and changbin came to the conclusion that you probably left earlier with the mysterious man ryujin said.

"well, pathetic boy" soyeon mumbled "you are already here, you might as well have a little of fun, take a girl home... i don't know what you straight people do" she extended her hand to him, inviting changbin to join her at the courtyard for a dance.

as she guided him through the living room and into the patio, changbin's body was quick to react when she saw you with jisung. his whole body tensed up, making sure to grab soyeon as close as he could to pretend that he wasn't alone.

"hey man i'm not-" soyeon reproached as changbin's hand traveled to her waist, his body pressing against hers. she directed his gaze as to where changbin's eyes were fixed and it took her a lot of self-control to not start bursting of laughter. "fuck changbin, you have good taste"

"shut up" y/n was now looking directly at changbin and his partner while she danced against jisung's body. changbin couldn't see his face, but he knew immediatly who he was by the undercut and clothes the man was wearing.

"seems like my pleas were answered" his bestfriend whispered, getting more into the role of a straight-girl-crazy-about-changbin character as she rested her head on his shoulder. "better luck the next time i guess"

y/n eyes drifted away from changbin's as she turned around to stop facing the couple. her back was now against jisung's chest, her ass grinding on him slowly as the song progressed.

"this is so funny"

but it wasn't funny for changbin, his whole body ablazing because of the anger and jealousy he was feeling. watching you dance with another man was exactly what was needed for him to confront his pride, as the only thing he could think of was to drag you out of the party and fuck you mercilessly until the only thing you could remember was his name.

just a few seconds later, the image he was fearing the most was now presenting itself in front of his eyes. your sweet lips dancing around jisung's as his hands were resting on your waist eager to travel to other places.

"i think i saw hyunjin inside" soyeon mumbled, escaping the unpleaseant (but funny) scene of his best friend going completely jealous over a girl.

changbin needed to do something, and he needed to do it now.

*

y/n perspective

"please ruin me" you whispered, your soul immersed in arousal, guilt and regret.

"you shouldn't have said that, y/n" changbin growled as he gripped your hair to pull you in for a kiss. the touch of his hands burned on your skin deliciously, feeling the electricity traveling through your veins and into your core. the kiss was rough, and you couldn't help but whimper as you felt the fabric of his clothes against your naked skin, reminding you of how good it felt to be vulnerable in front of him.

his lips went from yours to your neck really quick, peppering kisses on the surface as he licked and sucked on the exposed skin. "if i'm going too far, you can stop me anytime" he exhaled, his teeth picking up the skin under your jawline softly.

you nodded as he worked on your neck, getting soft moans and cries out of you.

"can i please mark you?" he asked, with a broken voice as if he was running out of air, desperate to continue exploring your body. marking. the idea of being covered in faint bruises because of him only contributed to your arousal even more.

"go ahead" you moan "make sure they are visible enough"

changbin smirked against your neck as his grasp on your ass got harder. you couldn't help to flinch a little when he started to suck harshly on your neck, but he was quick to wrap his arms around you to keep you in place. the mere thought of him causing you this kind of pleasure, mixed with pain, made you squeeze your thighs together.

"god" you moaned, grabbing his hair and pushing him to keep marking you "fuck, that hurts" it did, but you didn't wanted to stop.

"it is supposed to hurt, precious" changbin said, his arms still holding you thight as he created a masterpiece on your naked skin "that's the only way you will remember who you belong to and who made you feel this good"

changbin's hands toured the sides of your body and your back, unclenching the piece of underwear that was blocking him to keep kissing your skin.

"your body is always ready for me" he mumbled, your nipples hardening at the mere sound of his raspy voice "look precious, you are so good"

you couldn't help but whine at the cold sensation of changbin's finger rings that were caressing and teasing your hardened buds. "you look so... fragile"

"you don't have to be gentle with me" you moaned in frustration, almost begging for his tongue to make contact where you needed you the most. "i don't break easily"

changbin looked at you with the darkest gaze he had ever give you. "you have no idea where you are getting into by saying those words, y/n"

changbin's mouth approached one of your nipples as he lazily dragged his tongue around it. his fingers traveled to the opposite side, caressing and playing with your other bud.

"fuck, that feels good"

finally, his tongue made contact where you needed it the most, giving small and quick licks that were starting to drive you insane. you always knew how sensitive you were, specially in that area, and now that changbin knew this it was kind of dangerous.

"who is making you feel this good, hm?" he hummed, his mouth alternating between places.

"i don't like you" you moaned, screaming the last word as changbin aggressively sucked on your chest leaving a faint mark.

"you don't? and you are this worked up?" he asked with a mocking tone, his senses intoxicated with your scent.

"matter of fact i hate you" you mumbled, trying to repress your moans "don't think you are the only person in this world who can satisfy me"

changbin planted a tiny kiss on your shoulder as he proceeded to rest his whole weight on the couch, manspreading for you. "take that off" he ordered, pointing out your panties.

you did as you were told, dragging your damped underwear through your legs and removing it in front of him. now being completely naked, his hand palmed his left thigh "come here"

you placed both your legs on each side of his thigh as your wet core made contact with the fabric of his black jeans, the sole movement making you whine and involuntarily grind against him. "show me how much you hate me"

you swallowed hard unsure of what to do next, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

"how do... you want me to do that?" you asked quietly, feeling how your juices were probably making a mess on his clothes.

"ride my thigh" changbin ordered, giving you a condescending look "prove me that you can satisfy yourself better than i can"

you licked your lips nervously as your breath caught up on your throat. you knew perfectly that you couldn't do that, you needed changbin's help to cum and if you didn't, he would probably humilliate you for it.

"go on, precious. as much as i would love to stay here all night i have plenty of ideas to ruin that filthy pride of you" your core rubbed against his thigh almost unconciously, your hands traveling to his shoulders for support. "hmmmm" he hummed, grabbing both of your wrists and slowly placing your arms behind your back "you can do it by yourself"

the lack of help from changbin and the fact that your whole body had no support only made things harder. your hips grinded against him at a painfully slow pace while your hands were behind your back, changbin enjoying the view of your whole body trying to pathetically get any pleasure from him.

"i need to hold onto something" you cried, the frustration increasing as your clit grazed ever-so-slightly against him "please"

after that plea, you felt changbin's grip on your throat again "this should do precious" he muttered.

thankfully, changbin's hold on your neck gave you the tinniest bit of support, your hips moving now faster against his thigh.

"fuck da-"your breath got caught up on your throat, partly because of changbin's grip making it impossible for you to talk and partly because the petname that was about to leave your lips was rather embarassing.

"what was that, princess?" he asked, amused. he wasn't doing anything other than having you fucking his thigh, but he couldn't deny the painful bulge inside his pants that was driving him insane.

"it was nothing" you whispered in between broken moans.

"say it" he ordered, "say it and i might reward you with something"

you bit your lips attempting to refrain from saying anything else, your core clenching around thin air as your fluids damped his jeans. "fuck daddy" you whisper, almost inaudible.

"louder" he demmanded, his hands leaving your neck to place themselves on your hips, guiding your movements against his body while he flexed his thigh making the contact between your core 10 times deeper.

"yes, daddy" you whined, almost to the point of screaming at the feeling of his hands harshly guiding your whole movements "this feels so fucking good"

"my poor baby can't do anything by herself?" he grunted, admiring the image of your breasts swinging as your body grinded on his thigh "does daddy has to do everything for her?"

the way he used his own petname sent you to cloud 9, only making you wetter.

"i'm sorry daddy" you cried, your head falling slightly back as you followed changbin's grip.

"you should be, y/n" changbin's voice getting deeper by the minute "because you look so pathetic right now"

the words that were leaving his lips only made you needier and contributed to your arousal to increase, the knot on your stomach threatening to come undone any second.

"i think i'm close" you whispered, your hands still behind your back.

"keep your eyes open and look at me" changbin ordered "i want you to remember who made you cum this hard without even touching you"

changbin's gaze was all you needed to come undone on his thighs, closing your eyes at the minute you felt the highest point of your orgasm hitting you "what do good girls like you must say?" he asked, getting even harder by the image of your trembling body orgasming in front of him.

"thank you daddy" you cried softly, your voice broken. "thank you, thank you, thank you"

there was nothing in this world that changbin loved more than your duality. how you would act dominant in every aspect of your daily life, but not when you were with him alone. you struggled to hide your pride, but once you did, changbin knew that you were fully submitted to him.

and you knew that too. as much as you hated him, he knew how to make you lose your senses and drift into a completely different state, one more vulnerable. 3 times it was all he needed for you to show him the purest side of you: the needy one, the submissive one, the one who needed to be completely ruined and taken care of at the same time.

"such an obedient whore" changbin moaned, pulling you into his arms to give you a kiss "do you think you can keep going, y/n?"

your legs were tired, but there was something that you had been craving since the night at the bar and there was no possible way you would leave his apartment without getting it.

"i'm can, daddy"

"good" he said, getting up from the couch and driving you to his bed. he didn't bothered to turn on the lights as the whole room was lit up by the window.

you came closer to start unbottoning his pants, craving to feel his length inside your mouth just like last time, but he was quick to grab your wrists "today it's not going to be about me" changbin mentioned, undressing slowly in front of you. "as much as i want to put that pretty mouth to good use, i have other plans in mind"

you rested your whole body on your forearms as your legs spreaded in front of him, exposing your whole naked body for changbin.

he drove one of his hands to his mouth and slightly spitted on it in order to stroke his cock to lubricate it, mixing his own saliva with the precum that was already dripping from him.

"you look so good in that position" he praised "your whole body ready for me to completely destroy it"

your nipples hardened at his words, and he was quick to notice it "i don't think jisung would have been able to make you feel this good"

you licked your lips at the confidence he exuded, even at moments like this. changbin's body aligned with yours, the tip of his cock rubbing against your wet folds, slipping with easiness "you are always so wet for me"

the frustration building up again just by feeling his cock against your entrance. you would be lying if you said you didn't thought about how it would feel to have him inside you, even if the idea scared you. it was a while since the last time you fucked and, to be honest, you didn't think you had done it properly. the only times you actually did it, it was completely hard for you to feel anything but pain, and that thought crossed your mind right before he could even get inside you.

"can i?" he asked, noticing how your face looked slightly terrified.

"changbin i-" you stopped before you could say something else. you tried your best to build up this confident sex-appealing character who, in reality, knew nothing about the practice of sex. it was going to be embarrassing to admit that you were -barely- a virgin, even though you actually weren't, to the man who just humilliated the shit out of you a few seconds ago.

"mhm precious?" he asked, a faint smirk appearing on his face.

"i- it's been a while since the last time i did it" you confessed, his smirk growing bigger. "it's not my first time, but let's just say that i have little to cero practice on this area"

it was embarassing to admit such a thing, but you were not open to have more bad experiences with sex. you expected for changbin to laugh at you, or act all cocky, but the smirk on his face was rather confusing. "i'll treat you well, precious" changbin said, sliding the tip of his cock against your core "can i?"

with a hesitant gaze, you nodded, your whole body squirming under his as you felt his cock stretching every wall inside you. changbin was big and it was painful, you couldn't lie. "you are taking me so well, precious"

soon, the painful feeling became pleasure. changbin wasn't moving at all, letting you get used to him inside you, but you quickly found yourself moving your hips in circular motions signaling that you were completely ready to take him.

slowly, his hips thrusted in and out of you. he needed to ruin you, he needed to go fast and rough on you, but your comfort was a priority for him. as much as he wanted to make a mess of you and make you scream in pain and pleasure, he was determined to control himself and his impulses.

"you are so fucking tight" he growled, trying to repress any sinful noises that could escape his lips.

"don't hold back" you whimpered, feeling how the pleasure and pain were finally becoming one. "do whatever you want with me but don't hold back"

"you don't know what you are asking for, precious" he scoffed, the feeling of his lenght being hugged by your warm walls almost driving him insane.

"i do" you moaned, looking directly into his eyes with the needier gaze he had ever seen in his life "i need you to ruin me like you promised me to, i know you can"

changbin licked his lips as his forearms rested on both sides of your head, his breath coming closer to yours "you have so little experience in this but i already made you a masochist, didn't i?"

changbin thrusted hard into you as he said the last sentence, earning a whiny moan out of you.

and, following your plea, his pace rapidly increase without a warning. your eyes rolled to the back of your head with each thrust, changbin going completely feral at the sight of his good girl begging for him to hurt her.

"faster... daddy" you cried, almost out of breath. the feeling was as humilliating as it was powerful. there was some comfort in knowing that you submitted completely for him, and that now he was going to show you how good he could make you feel.

"you are such a whore y/n" he moaned, his raspy voice turning deeper as he thrusted inside you. "my whore"

your fingers traveled all the way to your clit, rubbing it with circular motions as changbin's length was satisfying your hole "does that feel good precious?"

"it does daddy" you reply, words broken as the whines and moans wouldn't let you form decent sentences.

"you look so good being ruined by me"

there it was that familiar knot again, starting to come undone on your lower abdomen. by changbin's heavy breathing and sloppy thrusts you knew he was close too. "you feel so fucking good, y/n"

you bit your lips, your voice not being able to emit any sound at all because the pleasure was starting to become slightly overwhelming. it felt incredibly nice having him inside you, ruining you, destroying you. you felt powerless and at his mercy, ready to do anything just for him to praise you with a few words.

"i'm close again daddy"

as you said this, changbin's pace increased. his lips attached into yours, his tongue fighting to get that intoxicating taste of you once again. your whole body started to violently shake as you came undone changbin's arms holding you right in place so you wouldn't move. "that's my good slut" he praised.

tears started streaming down your face as you were at the highest point of your orgasm. "that's my good fucking slut, cuming on her daddy's cock" he grunted.

the overstimulation by his thrusts was soon to appear, making you squirm into his arms but trying to hold on so he could chase his high too. "y/n"

"changbin" you cried, your half-lidded eyes looking directly into his, that were now filled with desire.

"let me cum inside you" he asked, biting his lips and trying to control himself waiting for your answer.

the overstimulation began to feel like pleasure quickly again at his words, your core dripping even more your own juices with each thrust he gave you. "cum inside me, please daddy"

those words were all he needed to release himself inside your cunt, earning grunts and moans from him. the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

"thank you daddy" you whined, feeling his hot cum dripping out of your pussy once he pulled himself out. "thank you so much daddy"

the mere perversed image of you with your legs parted, his own cum dripping out of you as your fingers traveled to your cunt to mix your arousal with his and then tasting it, was all he needed to convince himself that this was not going to be the last time to have you like this.

he needed to have the precious submissive girl who was in front of him, with her makeup and hair ruined, with her whole body dripping in sweat and his scent.

he needed to ruin you.

he needed to destroy you.

he needed to take care of you.

he needed to own you.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Maybe their first meeting? 👀 (Illogical Husbands)

I've been waiting for someone to ask for this, haha.

Warning: these two are feral fools, Ellie has all the brain cells

On with the fic!

--

Betty had suggested the city. Broadchurch, a small city on the coast of England, known for a rather depressing murder. Well, it was honestly better than trying to escape in London.

Bill was being a fool, hiding away from his problems like a damn coward, when he should be facing them head on. Easier said than done, really. He needed to escape, even if it was just for a few weeks.

Honestly, it was probably best for everyone if they didn't see his face right now, anyway. So, here Bill was, in some nowhere city in the UK, where no one had really seemed to know who he was.

Or at least not say anything to his face. He had gotten stares, and the woman at the hotel had commented that they didn't get a lot of Americans here, so... hence the stares. Better than jeers and glares, Bill supposed.

Fuck, he needed a coffee.

He had been in Broadchurch for three days now, and only done a little exploring, so he at least knew of one cafe. He'd grab a drink and then go for a walk, that might ease his troubling thoughts. He rounded a corner, too lost in his mind to hear two people talking, before he walked right into one of them.

"Shit!" Came a surprised voice, and Bill blinked, looking at a man on the ground.

Oh dear, Bill moved to help him up, opening his mouth to apologize, but nothing came out as he made eye contact with the man.

The man had the most tired eyes that Bill had ever seen, which was impressive, considering how Bill had been looking for days now. Good lord, the man was scowling at him, impressive for someone who looked like he had a whole leg in the grave.

Once he got the man up on his feet, Bill went to apologize, but instead said, "God, you look like your five minutes away from keeling over or having a heart attack."

Wow, he was not doing great these past few months, because aside from adultery and destroying his life, Bill was about to add murder to his list of personal problems he brought on himself.

If looks could kill, this stranger would have slaughtered the doctor ten times over. "I don't need to be hearing unwanted health comments from an American. Then again, I guess that's normal with you lot."

The woman who had been standing next to him shot the man a glare and punched his arm, telling him to shut up. But the damage was done, Bill felt a spark ignite the suppressed anger that had building up inside of him, and he was ready to explode.

"The same could be said about you." Bill sneered, jabbing a finger into the man's chest.

"You knocked me over!" The man shouted. "Then you decided to insult me! I've got every right to be pissed with you!"

"And I'm a man who is not in the mood for anyone's shit right now, especially from some skinny guy like you!" Bill wanted to punch him, and the same could be said about the stranger.

But the woman stepped in. "Enough! Sir," she turned to her companion, "don't start things with strangers! Last thing we need is more complaints about low tourism here! As for you!"

She pointed a finger in Bill's face, and he felt the anger die at the glare she was giving him. "I know he's a prick."

"Oi! I am your superior officer, Miller!" The man shouted, but this woman, Miller, ignored him.

"But that doesn't mean you should also be making things worse. Just apologize and we can move on with our lives."

Bill looked up at the man, who was still glaring at him. He wanted to tell the asshole off, vent his frustrations with a bit of physical violence, but he wasn’t going to do that. Bill wasn’t going to make more trouble for himself. "I'm sorry for running into you, I have a lot on my mind."

The man looked at him, then huffed, nodding, before turning around. "Apology accepted. Come on, Miller, we need to get back to the station."

Miller sighed, rolling her eyes before following, saying something about the man still owing her a tea. Bill watched them walk away with a raised eyebrow before something clicked for him.

Superior officer? Station?

Oh.

Oh shit.

"I almost decked a cop."

--

Not romantic at all, haha, but I did say that they didn't like each other at first. I'm not sure when they become friends though.

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter 5

Kids

Read on ao3

-

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. She’s going to Morocco.”

There was something in Steve’s throat, making his voice waver and sound reverent at the same time. 

“She’s going to Morocco.” Billy pressed his hand down Steve’s back, dragging his fingertips along his skin, surprisingly smooth and soft. 

Steve had his head on Billy’s chest, their bodies stuck together uncomfortably with sweat, but neither of them could be assed to move. 

They were wrapping up their little movie night, Almost Famous playing to a close on Steve’s laptop, perched on the kitchenette counter, just where they could see it from the bed. 

“Okay, that was really good.”

“I fucking told you. My mom showed me that movie when I was, like, eight. Shit changed me fundamentally.”

Steve shifted his leg a little bit but stayed silent. Billy could feel his muscles tensing uncomfortably.

“What?”

“What what?”

“I can tell you’re tense.”

“I just,” Steve sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention your mom before.”

“Yeah. Don’t really like talking ‘bout her.”

“Did she, you know ?”

Yeah. Billy did know. 

“Nah, she didn’t die. She left. Not long after that movie night.”

Steve’s head popped up from where it was rested on Billy, giving him those big fuckin’ eyes looking sappy and sad as all hell. 

“I’m sorry.”

Billy didn’t know what to say to that. 

He doesn’t tell people about his mom. About her lovely life that she’s built without him in it. 

It breaks his heart just to think about. 

“She’s got kids now. A husband.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’m just. Sorry.”

“I don’t know what I want to hear. But yeah. T’sucks.”

“You wanna know something that makes me sad? So we’re even?”

Billy huffed a laugh through his nose, bringing his hand up to tuck some of Steve’s messy hair behind his ear.

“Only if you wanna tell me.”

“Remember how I said I was supposedta get my high school diploma soon? Well, by soon I mean, like, maybe within the next few years.” Steve wasn’t meeting Billy’s eyes, and he put his head back down on his solid chest, his shoulders tensing up around his ears. “I never went to school. Not even when I was little. I’ve had the same tutor on the road since I was a kid, and he’s good. Tries his best. I just. I’m- not good . I’m not smart. You need to pass this test to get your high school GED if you’ve taken an ‘ alternative route ’. Like I have. But I can’t take it until I know the shit that’s on it, and my tutor, Scott, he’s too nice. Says I’m okay. That I’m on track. But I saw the program he teaches from. Says it’s for ninth and tenth graders. I’m nearly nineteen, and I’m in fucking ninth grade .”

Oh fuck. 

Oh fuck . 

Billy’s 98.6% sure Steve is fighting back serious tears right now. 

It was crushing Billy’s soul and making him feel like he was gonna join right on in.

But for how much Billy is a goddamn little crybaby, he sure is useless when other people start crying.

“It’s, Steve- that’s not your fault. You’ve literally never gone to school. Plus, like, I’m sure you don’t do your tutoring like I did school. Five days a week for like seven hours since I was five or something. You’ve been. Busy. You travel around and do all these amazing things, and, and, you're not dumb. Your parents just chose to not put you in school and then got mad when that didn’t work out as planned. It’s got nothin’ to do with your brain.”

This is gonna sound shitty. 

And Billy really doesn’t mean it like that. 

It’s just, well. Billy didn’t realize Steve was so. Fucked up. 

Traumatized. Might be a less harsh word for it. 

Billy just never woulda thought, when he first watched Steve ride like a fucking expert, or when he first noticed him strutting around the grounds of the rodeo, that there was actually something really sad behind that denim and flannel. 

It made something in Billy’s gut twist and turn. 

Because he’s the exact same way. 

Because underneath the layer of carefully maintained hot muscle-head douchebag jock, there’s a really sensitive boy who was abandoned by his mother and gets regular hits from his father. 

He can’t really decide if being able to see through Steve is a good thing or a bad thing, though. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to act like a fucking baby over it. I never really talk about it, so I guess the bad shit just kinda all decided to explode out all over you.”

“Nah, Pretty Boy. S’okay. I’m used to bad shit.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“I meant it more in a bummer way, I guess.”

“I am sorry about your mom. It seems like you really loved her.”

Little bastard had brought it back around to Billy’s shitty baggage now. 

The gorgeous little dickhead.

“I do.”

And that’s probably the worst thing about it. 

All these years of feeling abandoned and forgotten. Of trying to make himself hate her, he still loves her so much. 

He is her. 

So much of himself modelled around the aspects of her he found most beautiful. 

The things, try as he might, he can’t help but love.

Billy felt Steve take a large deep breath on top of him. 

“Do you, like, talk to her much?”

“Nah. Should be getting a FaceBook message for my birthday next week. And then nothing ‘til Christmas. That’s how it goes with her.” She was literally the only reason Billy still kept his FaceBook account around. 

Mostly because when he was feeling sorry for himself he’d go over to her profile and peruse the album labelled “Family ❤️” until he felt worse. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizin’. Not your fault she couldn’t handle it all.”

“Was she really young, or something?”

“Yeah. It was a case of too young and her own shitty father giving her enough issues to make her wanna marry the first asshole that told her she was pretty.” He’s never said all of this out loud. 

But he couldn’t. Stop. Talking. 

“Then when he turned out to be a bigger dick than she imagined, she split. Basically fell off the Earth for a few years. Served my dad divorce papers out of the blue one day. Now, she’s got a family that doesn’t suck, and barely spares any thought for the kid she left down south. Not that I blame her.”

He does, and he doesn’t. 

It’s an odd situation. 

He blames Neil for everything, when he’s thinking clearly. 

He pushed his mother away with the same violence, the same painful rage he shows Billy. 

But he also blames her. 

She could’ve taken him before she scrammed. Could’ve fought for custody over him while she and his father met for Skype calls with their lawyers to settle the divorce.

Their split was easy, because she didn’t want anything. 

Not their house, not their belongings.

Not their son. 

“Wow. I thought my family was fucked up. Not to be rude, or anything.” Steve flushed, but he had the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“Every family is fucked up. Just in different ways.” 

“I guess you’re right. I should probably get my head outta my ass and quit bein’ so selfish, then.”

Billy smiled fondly at Steve.

“You’re not selfish. Just don’t got a lot of outlets, I assume.”

Steve nodded, and Billy understood. 

He doesn’t either. 

The only person he even considers close enough to vent to, is Max. And even then, he doesn’t tell her all of it. Not nearly any of it. 

She knows he’s gay only because she knows Neil’s a fucking homophobe. She knows he gets beat only because Neil does it in front of her. She knows his mom left only because sometimes Neil gets drunk and spits in Billy’s face that it’s all his fault she’s gone. 

But she doesn’t know that Billy agrees with Neil on that last bit. 

That maybe if he fought for her better-

Got in between her and Neil when he was goin’ in rough and hard on her down in the kitchen, instead of hiding under his bed with his hands pressed over his ears. 

He’s got no one to work through all this shit with, and by the sounds of things, Steve hasn’t got anyone either. 

And maybe that’s what they could be. 

For each other. 

Billy shook himself.

“You wanna start your movie?” He asked Steve, trying to redirect the evening back to their Favorite Movie Double Feature, and out of Billy’s Hopeless and Has Feelings territory. 

Because time was ticking down. 

And no matter how much Billy felt like Steve was the perfect compliment to his frayed and ragged soul.

Steve was leaving. 

Steve was always leaving. 

[whatiwillsay]

submission: we need to talk about ttb (spade-riddles)

Hey Cam. Seeing that ask defending TTB’s doxxing has sort of pushed me to finally share some of my story on Tumblr, I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about this to anyone fully, so this will probably be long, but I hope you don’t mind me venting.

I’m one of the people that got emailed by TTB. I don’t feel comfortable posting this off anon, but I was in a Discord server with you and @bisluthq and some other people back in Dec/Jan. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name on there was one word and began with an L and ended with an S.

I want to share the full story, but I also don’t feel comfortable with sharing certain details publicly because I’m still very wary of getting outed further by her if she sees this, so I’m gonna be vague about some things

Request to her followers — If you see this, please don’t send this to her. Like I’m genuinely asking you not to because I don’t trust her not to cross any more lines. My dad is a major homophobe with serious anger issues who has literally been arrested for violence before, and she doesn’t really think carefully or maybe even care about how any actions she takes could lead to people being harmed, so I’m not eager to see how she might react.

Anyway, I first got an email back in December, and I was really freaked out by it at first. I spoke to one of my mutuals about it, and although we both agreed it was super weird and invasive and creepy, we ended up trying to see the funny side of it. So, I kinda just brushed it off and moved on. I was mainly just really confused about why I had been targeted because at the time, I thought it was only me who’d gotten an email like that. I didn’t understand why she’d specifically targeted me instead of other people who she clearly disliked a lot more.

About a week later, I saw someone on Tumblr mentioning a strange email, and I realised other people must have gotten them too. I spoke to Nat about what happened to me and ended up in the Discord

At the time, I felt like I’d gotten off really easy comparatively to others because I initially didn’t realise that she’d contacted anyone else. And so I tried to act chill about it because I didn’t want to make things about me, but honestly, I was extremely anxious. I felt on edge for over a week. I would keep checking her blog again and again because I was super worried that she would post our personal details publicly. I scrolled through my entire blog from start to finish and deleted a lot of posts that were either personal or that I just didn’t want anyone I knew in real life to read.

This part I have to be vague about because it would basically give away who I am, but it was only a while later when I thought I was in the clear that someone I knew in real life texted me and mentioned seeing a weird email about me. The email had been sent a while back, and they’d been shown it by the original recipient/s. Multiple people had been shown it, but luckily (kinda), only two of those people were actually people I saw on a regular basis

I’m mostly closeted, but I’m kind of technically out to a few of my immediate family members. But it’s very much a DADT situation because they’re not accepting, and they like to just pretend I’m straight. And so I basically have to act closeted even when I’m around them, and I can’t even ALLUDE to being gay.

But with my dad, it’s different. He’s very homophobic. I’m only gonna mention this next part so that people understand what kind of dangerous situation that TTB could have put me in. (And the other people that she doxxed too because she didn’t know how safe their individual situations were). It’s all really personal, and I wouldn’t ordinarily feel comfortable sharing any of this at all, even anonymously, but I think it needs to be said because her actions were extremely fucking irresponsible.

Right, so when I first “came out” to my dad, it was actually an accident, and he reacted… extremely badly. This was back in like… 2018 or 2019, I can’t remember the exact year

(TW // physical abuse, homophobia)

He was extremely angry, literally shaking. He yelled at me, he described in graphic detail how he was going to “break every bone in my body”, “strangle the life out of me”, “drown me”, etc. He kept telling me that I’m disgusting and going to Hell, you get the idea. He was having a lot of fun with making strangling motions and stabbing motions with his hands, and he kept slamming his hand onto the table. That went on for about 15 minutes, and then he stood up and threw a chair from the dining table at me. That was fun lol. And he punched me in the head pretty hard which kinda knocked me back. I felt dizzy, I had to sit down on the floor. At that point, my mum who had been crying and asking him to stop physically intervened, and he ended up storming out of the house instead. My mum’s a genuinely good person btw. She’s a little homophobic, but she cares about me a lot, and I’m very grateful for her. She hates him too, but she’s kinda stuck with him… It wasn’t her fault

He literally hates gay people. He complains about us on the regular. One time, he threw the remote at the TV and cracked the screen just because there was a gay male couple kissing onscreen. Another time, he threw a rock at a gay man on the street. There was also a time where he forced a few of my siblings (who didn’t want to do it) to throw peeled oranges out of the window at people celebrating pride while he drove past them and yelled insults at them. He found that really funny. Anyway, I’m sure you guys get the idea of what kind of person he is

He hasn’t laid a hand on anybody in several months though, so I do think he’s trying to be better at least. Like he’s still verbally abusive and controlling and awful, but I appreciate that he’s at least making an effort to calm down with the hitting and kicking and stuff

Anyway, with my dad, it’s less DADT and more that I think he’s got it in his head that he managed to scare me into “seeing the error of my ways” and that I’ve “stopped choosing to be gay” and that I’m now straight. So, if it had been HIM who had gotten that email, it would’ve been like… extremely bad. Like I’m getting anxious just thinking about it. And this is why I’m so angry at TTB. It was extremely, extremely irresponsible of her to not consider these kinds of possibilities before she sent out her stupid emails. She’s supposed to be an ally, but it didn’t even cross her mind that these emails would lead to people being outed and possibly even harmed?? It’s not okay at all. I’m just very grateful that she didn’t send one to him because I don’t even know what kind of situation I would be in right now.

Anyway, enough about my fucking awful dad… I feel uncomfortable that I even typed all of that out, but I wanted people to understand how dangerous her actions could have been. Like I mean, my dad’s got PTSD and extreme anger issues from his teenage years, so I do try not to judge him TOO harshly, but there’s no excuse for being a huge bigot or occasionally violent. The idea of him being the one who got that email is still so scary to me. Like my heart is racing just thinking about it

One of the people that DID read the email was the male friend I mentioned earlier though. He was shown it by someone else for a particular reason, and he was a very important person to me. Like he was a good guy, we were close, he helped me out with certain personal issues I have and is one of only two people that I know in real life that I felt comfortable confiding in about them. We’d always meet up once a week, sometimes twice, and we’d just talk about stuff and make an effort to help each other out with things. Like he was very important to me.

It turns out that he’d looked through my blog before I’d got around to scrubbing it, and he asked me if I was gay in person the next time we met up. I couldn’t lie because like… he’d have known I was lying right to his face. So, I told him I was, and you should have seen his face. It made me feel so awful about myself. He looked really stunned and shocked and kinda uncomfortable. Like it got so awkward, and I started rambling and making things worse. He was avoiding eye contact, and my voice was shaking.

I ended up making up an excuse to leave about 5 mins later and had an actual anxiety attack. Again, this is embarrassing and something I’d never usually talk about online, but I just want to get it all off my chest so that I can move past it all.

So, I was like on the verge of tears (I don’t cry easily), I couldn’t breathe properly, I was pacing around the building, and I just wanted to escape, so I headed straight for the doors. There was a queue of about 100 people lined up and waiting to leave, and I couldn’t think straight or breathe and just needed to be outside, so I tried to go out through the other exit which is for staff only. The security guard stopped me and basically publicly humiliated me in front of all of those people. He loudly shamed me and said I “didn’t have any decency” for attempted to jump the queue, lectured me in this really condescending tone, and then sent me right to the back of that huge line. Meanwhile, I was literally in the midst of a bad anxiety attack.

And then I eventually got outside and had to call my mum to come and pick me up instead of just making my own way home like I usually do. She’s amazing though tbh because she actually came to get me and didn’t even question why. I had to skip all of my plans for the rest of the day and instead just hid upstairs in my bedroom with the lights off until the next day. I refused to tell any of my family members what had happened even though they kept asking. I just felt so, so awful, and my anxiety was through the roof

To be honest, before that happened, my mindset was like: “I mean, if I get outed, it obviously wouldn’t be good, but I think I’d be able to deal with it fine”. But then, when it actually happened, and I saw the way my close friend reacted, I had like a whole emotional breakdown lol. It’s like, you think you’d be fairly chill in a situation, but when it actually happens, your reaction can be really unpredictable. I was so embarrassed by everything about that entire incident. I didn’t even want to show my face the next day.

It’s been almost two months since that happened, and in that entire time, my friend has contacted me once. We literally used to meet up once or twice a week (and during lockdown, we’d do video calls or phone calls instead), but since then, we’ve barely even spoken. Things are just so awkward now. I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like TTB’s taken one of my best friends away from me. I don’t think he’s a homophobe or anything, he has openly gay friends and is fairly accepting, but I think it’s just the way that he found out that has just made things so weird between us now. I feel like if I’d had the chance to come out to him myself in my own way, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. But I’m gonna text him next week and see if we can maybe try to fix our friendship, but I doubt it at this point

The other people who were shown the email, I mostly just avoid. I don’t really care about them knowing that much because I wasn’t close to them, but it’s just really embarrassing knowing that they probably scrolled through my Tumblr blog before I scrubbed it

And about Tumblr… This used to be the only place that I could fully be myself. It was like a “safe space” for me which feels ironic now. But I haven’t been active on my blog since December. I still lurk occasionally, but I just don’t feel comfortable here anymore. I did consider deleting my current blog and starting afresh with a new one, but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference… Like she’s kind of ruined Tumblr for me. I do still enjoy reading people’s blogs every now and then, but I don’t feel relaxed here anymore, I just feel on edge.

It’s mainly the fact that SHE’S still here. She still has a platform, she still has a bunch of followers. It’s been so hard seeing her face next to no consequences whatsoever for the horrible things that she’s done to so many different people. And it upsets me that she hasn’t even acknowledged that what she did was wrong. Plus, it makes me feel even worse that the Hard Kay blogs and some other people are still supporting her and pretending that this whole thing just didn’t happen. Like do they just not care? Or is it that she’s twisted things and made them believe that the situation was different to what it actually was?

And tbh, this whole situation has even set me back in my own sort of personal self-acceptance journey. I had such bad internalised homophobia when I was younger, and it took me so many years to get to a place where I had mostly accepted myself. But now I just feel ashamed again, and I’ve gone back to my old habit of trying to force myself to be attracted to men. Like I downloaded Tinder the other day and set my preference to men and was swiping through profiles. It’s kinda silly actually. I did snap out of it and delete the app the next day though. But I don’t know, I feel like this whole thing has just kinda fucked with me a bit. I am trying to work this stuff out and get back to normal though. I think I’ll be good again in maybe a month or so, hopefully.

And… yeah. I just really resent her, and this situation upsets me. Because the reason she did this was so petty and ridiculous, and I guess she didn’t even realise how much it would impact people? Like I do know that my situation wasn’t as bad as some of the other people’s situations, and I feel really bad for them, and I hope they’re all doing okay. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. But it still has impacted me a lot more than I actually thought it would. I thought I’d get over it within a couple of weeks. But it’s been like two months, and I’m still not completely over it

I know it might not sound like a huge thing, but being outed really does affect you, even if it’s only to a few people. Because to me, I feel like I’ve had my sense of like, security and comfort taken away, and it’s kinda distressing. Sorry if I sound dramatic with any of this, I just really needed to say all of this stuff to other people besides myself lol

Like her actions have literally led to me being outed to a few people. A close friendship that I had has basically been ruined. I don’t feel comfortable or secure on Tumblr anymore, even though it used to be an important outlet for me. I’ve had a resurgence of anxiety about my sexuality. Etc.

And again, my dad is extremely homophobic and literally made death threats to me and physically attacked me back when I accidentally came out to him in 2018 or 2019. And if he had gotten that email, I don’t even know what would have happened. I don’t think he would have like… SERIOUSLY physically harmed me, but there would definitely have been a repeat of the first incident. More throwing chairs at me and hitting and screaming and death threats. I don’t really want to think about it.

It just bothers me that she didn’t even consider that? Like did it not even cross her mind? And my dad is bad, but I’m sure there are people in the fandom who have even worse parents, and she could have got one of those people instead. It’s just so… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating to me.

Anyway, I just hate her for what she did… Like maybe I shouldn’t, but I really do resent her so much, and I don’t think I could forgive her even if she apologised to us all (which I don’t think she even would because she doesn’t seem to have any decency whatsoever). The least she could do is at least express some kind of remorse, but she just genuinely doesn’t care, and that’s super messed up. All over some stupid Tumblr blog that is much less important than she thinks it is.

But anyway… I apologise for the whole rant, and if anybody read all the way down to here, I appreciate it. I do actually feel a bit better now that I’ve got this all typed out. And I’m sorry for the oversharing lol, I usually don’t do this, but I just felt like I really needed to tell people and get it off my chest so that I can try to get over it — L

submisssion⬆️⬆️⬆️

ok L i am trying to remain calm here because this isn’t about me.  but i am very emotional right now.  i am so so so infinitely sorry that you had to go through this harrowing and terrifying experience.  ttb (now blogging under spade-riddles) is absolutely disgusting, lower than dirt, that she would put your life, safety, and well-being at risk over a fucking kaylor blog.

please please please im me or get in touch somehow because i want to offer you support.  have you been financially impacted by this?  we can raise money.  do you need therapy?  we can help you find the support you need.  this community is unequivocally here for you.  whatever you need, if it’s in my power to help you get it, i will.  you have my solemn promise on that.

i am so deeply and desperately sorry that you have gone through this.  i was shaking while reading your story.

i am in touch with other people and we are in discussion about the best way to let tumblr know what happened.  this will be a safe space for you (and all of us) again if it’s the last thing i do.  this community is 100% here for you in any way we can help, sending you all the support and love we have.

[mmvalentine]

The Pianist pt 4 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 5

Jude woke up with a bad taste in her mouth and cotton wool in her brain. She groaned, groped around on the night stand for her phone and had to look at the screen through one eye because the light hurt her.

Does Cardan wake up like this every day? Jude wondered. And if so, how was he not dead?

Cardan. Shit.

Jude had a vague memory of kissing Cardan at Locke's party, but she was not entirely sure that she hadn't dreamt it. Fuck it. Cardan had been with so many girls she very much doubted one drunk kiss at a party would even register for him. Jude refused to be embarrassed.

In fact she was pretty sure that what she was actually feeling was annoyance, since he a) had managed to get under her skin even though she absolutely didn’t want him there and hadn’t invited him and b) was now striking up some exercises on the piano that sounded like he was playing them on the inside of her skull. Since when did Cardan start anything before lunch?

Jude tried to roll over and go back to sleep. Luckily for her, this was her one day a week off from all three of her jobs. Unluckily for her, Cardan was only just getting started.

Twenty minutes later, there was a pause. Jude sighed her relief as the infernal exercises finally stopped- only for a furious Baroque piece to begin. “No no no no,” Jude yelled. She flung back her covers, still dressed in the black dress from the night before, with bed hair and yesterday’s makeup, and stalked out the door barefoot.

Through the fire door, up one flight of steps, and down the hall to Cardan’s flat. She hammered her fist on his front door.

"Cardan!" she barked. "Cardan you insufferable ass!"

The piano stopped, and before he could get to her she yanked the door handle. It was unlocked, and Jude opened the door to a very surprised Cardan who was himself just reaching for the knob.

"Jude?"

"Yes Jude, hello it’s me your downstairs fucking neighbour who cannot sleep through this racket!"

Cardan just stood and stared at her. Some quiet part of Jude’s mind was sure she looked like a madwoman, but the louder part ignored it and continued the tirade.

"I mean for fuck’s sake Cardan what do you have against sleep?" She flung the words at him. “You keep me up all through the night because you refuse to operate during daylight hours like a normal person, and then the one time I want to sleep in, the one time- Cardan do you know I never ever ever sleep in? And then this one time I think maybe I’ll just relax a little, here you are like you’ve got some kind of personal vendetta against me getting a full eight hours!"

She paused to draw breath, and still Cardan just stood there. It was infuriating.

"Well?" She demanded.

And then Cardan put both his hands around her face, and pulled her mouth to his.

The heat was instant. Jude burned up under it in for a second, then realised what was happening and cut the kiss off.

But Cardan was having none of that. He pulled her right back to him, and Jude did not have enough willpower to break away a second time. The shocking fever of it wiped out all logical thought and the next thing she knew she was folding her arms around his neck. Cardan wrapped his own around her waist, stooping a little to reach her and then pulling her up against his body. He took a step back and Jude let him lead her into his apartment, the door closing softly behind them.

Cardan moved his mouth against hers and when his tongue lashed out she was only too eager to meet it. She scraped her nails against his neck as his hands slid into the tangle of her hair.

Jude took another step forward, and Cardan backed into a lamp. It toppled over noisily, but he didn’t let her stop the kiss. Just moved them to the side, where Jude’s back hit a shelf and two books fell out. Cardan didn‘t seem to care at all. Pushed her further into the wall while his teeth found her bottom lip, and knocked a frame down as his hand hit the plaster behind her.

Jude tugged him closer at the waist, and returned every one of his kisses. She might have kept kissing him all day, he tasted so good, but then in between one breath and the next he whispered her name, and she realised.

She was making out with Cardan.

Jude shoved him away, hard, and stormed out the door without a word.

////

Cardan didn't see Jude for a week after that.

It was strange, they had been in each other's proximity for a long time now and not had a lot to do with each other but now, somehow, he was quite sure she was avoiding him.

He didn't know quite what to feel about that kiss.

In his defence, she had started it. That night of Locke's party- no, before that. The night she started singing him to sleep through the air vents. She had floated into his life through his ears and now her absence chafed like a burr in his shoe. Of course, in the past days there was no singing. Not even when Cardan lay there for an hour, waiting to hear her voice.

Locke had seen her.

In spite of the mess that had been that party, and the morning after, it seemed that Jude had taken on Cardan's advice and agreed to meet with Locke for the play.

And according to Locke, things were going very well. He raved about Jude's voice, which irritated Cardan to no end. He had put his ear to the carpet just to hear her, and now he had to share her with Locke? Prick.

Locke, as always, had an easy time of assembling the rest of his cast. Cardan did not think him a bad writer, but he did suspect the queues for his casting call had more to do with who his father was than with his skills as a playwright.

He had been auditioning for a couple of weeks now, and with Jude in place, he was ready to call his first cast meeting. Cardan, Nicasia and Valerian were expected to attend too- Nicasia and Valerian never missed a chance to be on stage, and Cardan was invited for his "musical ear."

So there they all were, on a Friday evening, in the old theatre Locke's dad let him use. Waiting for the last few people to arrive. When Jude walked through the door she nodded to Locke, but avoided Cardan's gaze.

Fine, he thought. If she didn't want to talk to him, he certainly wasn't going to force her. He thought of the rant she had loosed on him that morning last week, and figured it was probably better this way.

Finally, Locke called them all to attention, and Cardan sat in the back row with Nicasia and Valerian as Locke addressed them all from the stage. Cardan put his feet up on the chair in front of him, and let Nicasia doze on his shoulder while Valerian picked things out of the soles of his boots with a pocket knife.

"So without further ado,' Locke was saying, may I present to you our stunning leading lady, Taryn."

Cardan looked up. The small group were politely clapping as a tall, thin woman stood and nodded at them all. She was all blonde hair and heroin chic, just Locke's type. But what about-

"And of course our vocalist, discovered by yours truly and pulled from the bowels of the subway tunnels, Jude!"

The group applauded mildly again, but Jude did not stand up. Locke continued. "Jude is going to provide the singing voice for Taryn, although I haven't decided whether we're going to pre-record or get her to sing live backstage."

What?

"What?" Jude demanded. The cast went quiet. "You want me to sing for Taryn?"

"Yes, of course," Locke said. "You've got a lovely voice, Jude, but Tarym looks more the part, don't you think?"

"Well you didn't fucking tell me that when I agreed to do this, Locke."

"Jude," Locke held up his hands. "Please stay calm. I'm sorry if you misunderstood."

"If I misunderstood? You lied to me. Why in the hell would I want to stand around behind a curtain so that someone prettier than me can get the credit?"

"Aw come on, Jude. It's not like that. This is a very common practice in show business," Locke insisted.

Now that the drama was amping up, Nicasia and Valerian were suddenly paying attention.

"Yeah come on, Jude," Valerian called down. "It's a compliment, you have a great face for recording!"

"Darling, these are all Juilliard trained performers," Nicasia added. "You didn't actually think you were going to be on stage did you?"

"I didn't ask to be here," Jude said, picking up her bag. "Fuck this, and fuck you guys slowly with a fork."

She strode out the door, right past their row.

"Jude, wait," Cardan said, scrambling out of his seat.

"You stay the hell away from me," Jude hissed, then the door slammed behind her and Nicasia burst into hysterical laughter. Cardan looked back down toward Locke, who was shaking his head tragically.

"This is why you never hire amateurs," he said sadly, and in that moment, Cardan hated them all.

****

Hooo boy okay a lot happened in this chapter! We are in a two week lockdown after a COVID break out so I guess you get lots of writing this weekend. Someone please hug them for meee

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler

[mandalorewhore]

Hunter (formerly Hunter and Prey)

Cis-Female Reader Insert/ Din Djarin

Gif by @themandaloriandaily

Thank u to @cptnbvcks, @whenimaunicorn, and of course @no-droids for the inspiration and your superior writing skills, whenever i was stuck on a portion i would reread all of u guy’s works and feel inspired again

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Breath Play, Deep Throating, Masturbation, Pining, Depictions Of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 11k AO3 LINK

Summary: AU where Din Djarin stays with the mercenary group owned by Ranzar Malk. Takes place a few years before Din is contracted for Grogu's bounty. You're a merc trying to make a name for yourself in the group when circumstances end up having you run away with Din. You become his hunting partner in order to support yourself but you cant help falling in love with him, even as trained killers chase you across the galaxy.

FULL FIC:

As a mercenary, you wouldn’t consider yourself an overly sensitive person. 

Maker knows you wouldn’t have lasted a week in the job if you couldn’t handle your emotions. Although you don’t consider yourself entirely void of empathy, having a sense of detachment is useful when your waking hours are spent committing crimes throughout the galaxy.

          So why the fuck are you so jealous right now?

          The obscene moans and harsh slapping that echoes throughout the hangar shouldn’t inspire a larger reaction than disgust as you dutifully continue to repair the blaster marks on one of the rogue-class starfighters. Luckily, it seems that most of your immediate associates have ran off into the deeper areas of the bay to toll your last mission.

Excluding three members, you guess.

          Thank the fucking Maker Migs isn’t here You think bitterly, willing the sparks to fly higher and machine rumble louder as you carefully manipulate your buffing laser on the metal surface. His snarky attitude certainly wouldn’t lessen your misery as you try to drown out the sounds of sex. Raunchy words hiss, bouncing off the metal walls, before finding your feet and slithering up your limbs with a foulness that chokes you. Controlling the hot spinning laser seems to stoke your inner seething more than it distracts you. 

“Mando! Stars, keep-fuck- keep doing that,” you hear Xi’an echoing. Fucking Xi’an. She knows what she’s doing to you. The cruel Twi’lek is far too observant to not know that she is practically comm-station broadcasting her sexual exploits to the entire crew, and with that sheer volume, might as well the entire galaxy. You truly wouldn’t care about her sex life if it wasn’t blatantly obvious that Xi’an was doing this to mock you. You know this is meant for your ears only, a repeat of every other time you’ve found yourself stuck with this chore.  

Even if she wasn’t directly rubbing the fact that she was fucking the Mandalorian in your face, you don’t doubt that she would find a way to taunt your nonexistent sex life just for the fun of it. Another salacious moan echoes in the bay causing you to cringe and slightly jerk the repair tool in frustration.

Fuck, why did it have to be Mando? Aren’t there enough people on this kriffing space station to warm her bed? And how is he being so quiet right now? After a second you remember that’s a stupid question, considering he is probably the quietest person you’ve ever met.

His reservation serves to intimidate your targets, all the while unintentionally stoking that warmth in your belly when you are near him. His all-encompassing presence when he enters a room strikes fear in the hearts of the opposition, meanwhile, you are secretly pressing your thighs together in desire, enjoying the spectacle?.

 You’ve found yourself reveling in the few jobs where Ran’s strategy has you in a decoy-role, weaponizing your feminine charm to lull your target into a false sense of power. The muscle composing of Burg and Mando make quick work of those men once they're thoroughly wrapped up in your wiles. Despite being placed together for jobs on several occasions you’ve never actually had a real conversation with him. 

You’re too scared to talk to him, a near-silent man covered head to toe in Beskar, but you make money killing people and robbing gangs every week. It would be funnier if that purple freak wasn’t so vile. You don’t even know how to casually approach him.. Nice job killing those guys while I manipulated them into trying to fuck me! I’m pretty good with a gun, too. Maker, it’s so ridiculous that you don’t even bother with trying to figure it out. Other fantasies are easier to picture, such as the thought of him strolling across the room to slot himself in-between your spread legs, directing that intensity into your willing, aching body.

  This infuriating crush is why you suppose that your envy wouldn’t be as biting if you caught some sort of noise from the man during these displays of exhibitionism. It would give you something to repeat in your mind while you stow away in the late hours of the night seeking your own release. You guess the inability to hear him is proof of how far Xi’an is pushing her volume. It’s all just to piss you off. 

“Uhg, how miserable..” You mutter to yourself, allowing a little moment of self-indulgent angst. Typically, you wouldn’t allow yourself to wallow like a petulant teen seeing as you’re a literal fucking criminal. 

I’m supposed to be a hardass, dammit you think, spirits low as repairs wrap up far too swiftly. You swear you’ll buff right through every layer in the ship if you keep procrastinating on finishing your job and wandering into the tucked away fresher for a shower. Wandering past….them.

Wherever they are choosing to fuck can’t be that far considering the slap of skin on skin is already fucking loud enough. The sounds seem to be emanating from a vent not too high up the wall, you deduce it connects to one of the bunk rooms not too far from the landing pad you’re working next to. It really is fucking loud with all these metal surfaces to echo off of. Making your way to your small bunk might cause you to go deaf and if the last thing you ever hear is Xi’an wailing as she rubs in the fact that you aren’t fucking Mando, well, you might just take this spinning laser to your head. Unfortunately, at this point, the exterior of the gunship couldn’t possibly get more pristine.

Sighing in defeat, you push up from your crouching position on the metal floor and start to assemble your tools for clean-up while the sounds of Twi’lek pleasure predictably pick up  in volume.

“Fuck, fuck-Ah I’m close, I-I’m going to-“ A literal howl pierces the air as your gut twists with discomfort. Fuck, this is so awkward... and like, weird? Does he consent to this? Does he like that we can hear it? Maker.. Pushing that thought out of your mind you start to jog to your goal of the darkened hall that leads to the station fresher, still so wrapped up in jealousy that you almost miss the rough modulated growl accompanying the scream.

 O-oh.

Oh shit. Was that Mando….Moaning?

The swirling jealousy is suddenly overtaken by a- stars- painful heat, so debilitating that you stumble and almost double over with an intensity that shoots through your groin. Okay well, now you feel like an actual pervert. This display of eroticism was engineered by Xi’an to make you uncomfortable, not so painfully turned on that it’s dizzying. You vaguely register a growing slickness between your legs as you hurry along the cold hallway, desperate to drench yourself in icy water and pretend to forget the sound of Mando moaning.

Shit, Maker, was he cumming? Was that what he sounds like when-- no stopstopnope. Don’t think about that. Your inner monologue is running amuck as you desperately try to block it out. This feels kinda gross, as if you’re a greasy peeping tom spying on Mando’s private endeavors even though this whole situation was shoved in your face to make you ache in countless, longing ways.

That deep growl repeats in your mind as you hum nonsensically under your breath, tapping your skull as if you can knock the sound out of your consciousness despite being well aware that you will go to your fucking grave with every detail. The top of your inner thighs is so embarrassingly slick that you have to resist waddling along the corridor to the showers. Just as you are about to round the first corner, one of the side bunker doors slides halfway opens with a whoosh. The smirking Twi’lek saunters out like the loth-cat who got the cream.

I suppose she did get the cream... Your split-second of sour mirth is further spoiled as Xi’an slides the rest of the door open revealing the gleam of silver beskar and red steel as the ever still Mandalorian adjusting his…thigh armor. You spy a large vent at the junction between wall and ceiling, confirming your earlier suspicions that she chose this location on purpose. Quickly glancing between Mando and Xi’an, your face uncontrollably floods with fire when her giggles pierce the air. You register his helmet tilting toward you right as Xi’an’s tongue slowly extends to liiiick her fingers, any curiosity at his gesture burning away in revulsion.

What does she get out of making everyone uncomfortable? You think to yourself, wanting to squirm away from the obscenity but resolving to hold your ground.

“Xi’an,” You greet the two shortly, hands linked behind your back. “Mando.”  He nods.

“Sorry,” Xi’an offers in a voice devoid of guilt. “Were we being too loud? I would never want to distract you from your… projects.” Her taunting smile curls so widely that it is almost disturbing. “What would the team do without our junior mechanic!”

Her cackle rings through the suddenly freezing hall as you spin on your heel and try to not look like you’re fleeing. Red is tinting the edges of your vision from her insult while tears threaten to flood your eyes out of embarrassment.

You need to get to that shower quickly.

    ----------------

  As the tepid shower rains down on your flushed body, you childishly wonder if you should run away. Or rather, if you could run away considering you technically don’t own any of the ships currently residing in the hangar bay. Although you technically have free reign to pilot most of the spaceships available, that freedom entirely applies to transportation between merc assignments . The thought of running away from your current acquaintances on a stolen ship is not appealing. In fact, the only crew member owning a personal vessel happens to be Mando, his Razer Crest gunship was often subject to your mechanic skills.

Mando, who always offered a genuine “Thank you.” after you’d spend hours touching up the vessel’s damage procured from the rare missions he lent its flight to. Mando, the person who you are presently trying to not think about while naked and still trembling with emotion.

Your sillier fantasies would sometimes involve stealing away in his gunship, hand pressed over his chest and leg thrown across his lower body like a romance novel while he skillfully pilots the ship away. Kriff, you felt like a soft girl whenever you run this scenario through your mind, so cliché and campy that you cringe at yourself. Thus, this particular dive into your consciousness was reserved for special moments such as lying in bed after a strenuous job, or after long days spent working through that junkyard of hangar bay trying to strong-arm your way into earning worth in the company. Private moments where you are finally comfortable letting your guard down to drift aimlessly throughout maladaptive daydreams.

Not so soft fantasies exist in your mind as well. Once again that modulated groan springs to the forefront of your mind causing your clit to throb softly. The conflicting feelings of embarrassment, rage, and painful arousal serves to create an energizing cocktail that goes straight to your pussy.

‘Fuck it,” You whisper breathily to yourself, “Nows as good a time as ever..” your fingers are trailing down your stomach as you say the words out loud. You adjust the water to be slightly warmer and sigh as the comfortable heat compliments your tickling fingers. If only you could replace your hands with the significantly larger leather-clad ones of a certain bounty hunter. The thought spikes your arousal as you lightly brush against your mound, choosing to tease yourself as images flash through your mind. The armor-clad Mandalorian gripping the back of your neck to you press facedown on the floor of his ship and take his cock. Or your legs spread wide across his hips, crushing your pussy on his groin while he’s seated in the pilot seat of his ship.

Your fingers dip slightly into your slick hole then drag up to your clit causing you to bite your free palm and hold back a moan. Eyelids heavy, you give in to the fantasies and begin to earnestly rub at your clit.

“Mmf Maker, f-fuck..”, you whine into your hand at the thought of him breaking your pussy open. You just know he fucks hard -- it’s a given that the crazy Twi’lek would be one for rougher sexual affairs. Someone who spends nearly every moment of life feeling nothing but the weight of fabric and beskar on their skin must be so fucking touch starved. You bet the opportunities he’s had to feel a tight cunt wrapped around his length would completely overwhelm his restraint. Muffled moans begin to fill the fresher as your fingers speed up between your legs, head hanging forward into the metal wall and water dripping off your brows.

Your eyes flutter shut as you pull your hand from your lips to tug at your hardened nipple, other hand still between your legs, imagining a dark visor being trained on your soaking wet, writhing body. The image sends a shooting pleasure up your spine as you spin around and press your back to the wall. Imagining his dark form watching you from the other side of the gathering steam, you open your thighs and spread your labia apart, sighing at the wet sound it makes. “Like what you see, hunter..?” you whisper into the empty room wishing he would find you in this shower.

Removing your fingers from your nipple you reach down to your crotch and greedily fill yourself with two fingers, pumping in and out as your other hand works at your swollen clit. The volume of your now unmuffled pleasure is likely overheard by anyone on this section of the station, but you can't find it in yourself to give a shit. If Xi’an can screech out her orgasms at any given opportunity to fuck with you then let them hear.

Let him hear.

Your imagination runs rampant at the notion that he could hunt down your gasps and take care of you himself, causing you to gasp louder. S-shit people can hear you, you just won't say his name out loud, it's fine, it's f-fine- The thought of him discovering you here is so hot that it's blinding, and suddenly your orgasm is rushing up to crush you entirely.

Your lower half is locked tight then suddenly your knees buckle and you’re cumming hard. Your choked gasps cutting through the steamy shower like blaster fire as you peak higher, uncontrollably calling out for the Mandalorian while white-hot pleasure wrings you dry. Let him hear you crying for him as you gush around your fingers, convulsing in bliss.

     In the shuddering aftershocks, you don’t hear the uncharacteristically loud padding of leather boots retreating away from the fresher door.

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

    You’re good at your job. You wouldn’t be doing it if you truly couldn’t handle the ordeal of being a mercenary. The whole point of the job is to take care of the dirty work, so those far disconnected wouldn’t have to dwell on their choices too hard. You’re used to not asking questions, motivated by credits and reputation alone. But in moments like these, a job going this awry… well, you just feel like pure shit. This hit was way too easy and far too filthy even for your career mostly consisting of professional filth. It was so glaringly obvious that even if your associate’s numbers were sliced in half, you would still sweep the ground with your winnings.

And what meager earnings they are.

The crew’s assignment this round was to hit a casino shipment just outside the outer rim planet of Cantonica. Due to the Razer Crest’s ability to fly under the radar of both Imperial and New republic records, Ran rudely allotted that Mando should allow his ship’s use for crew transport. You’re surprised he agreed at all, but perhaps the prospect of gain motivated him. His motivations are rarely clear to you. You’re guessing the price of a wealthy city’s supply sounded frankly too tempting for everyone involved; Ran was practically salivating over the drawing board for this particular errand. One would imagine a hull stacked to the top with credits and the finest luxuries for Canto Blight’s flashy tourists. It is Catonica’s main attraction after all.

But once the team’s resident crime droid, Zero, breached the cargo ship's record, the whole team is  informed that the cargo-freighter ship only contains “organics”.

Slaves.

          In the end, Migs remarked that there may still be something of worth to obtain from this job, and thus the plan morphed into an robbery on the surface once the cargo landed at its isolated dock. You reluctantly agreed to continue while Mando shortly nodded, both of you last to assent on this change in direction.

----------------   

Some hours later you’re crouching in a derelict warehouse while the lessening blaster fire showers spark like fireworks across your corneas. The fighting between your crew and the dockyard guards has almost died down at this point and you take the moment to catch your breath behind a large stack of cargo boxes.

          “Holy stars,” you gasp out, head falling between your knees as a wave of guilt consumes you momentarily. This job fucking blows. It’s so much easier robbing Imps and gangs because they are inherently bad fucking people. Robbing a group of slaves is the lowest point you think you have ever hit in your life. This is so wrong, this is so so wrong, they don’t even have ownership of their own lives and here your crew of fucking mercenaries swoops in with a vengeance over being cheated out of something that we didn’t own in the first place.

The last straw was when you witnessed a young bedraggled woman fearfully tossing the Twi’lek sibling, Qin, a small wooden necklace, the last possession from her life before slavery. You ended up turning tail and running deeper into the dock while Qin needlessly hissed at her just to enjoy her terror. You’re sure he’ll just toss the thing after the job is over.

“I never would’ve agreed to this…” You breathe out shakily to the empty air, hollowness swallowing your ability to compartmentalize your humanity from the nature of this work. You are still fighting the impulse to give in to that deep pit of sorrow when a large shadow makes you start and grip your blaster before relaxing in recognition at the chrome gleam.

          “Oh, hey, Mando,” Smiling tightly in his presence as he approaches silently, his helmet tilted down at your crouched form. His gaze makes you straighten up quickly, realizing that you probably shouldn’t look so stricken in front of your crime associate. Gotta look tough, can’t let people think you’re too soft for this work. Man, didn’t he help start the company? That thought motivates you further to stand up and face him head-on.

 “Not what we expected huh? Certainly no Canto luxury here..” you quietly murmur to his cheek groove.

If you looked directly where his eyes might be he would likely catch the sparkle of moisture threatening to pool at your bottom lashes.

          “No,” he breathes shortly through the modulator. “Not this.” Something in his voice inspires the bravery to glance at his T-shaped visor. Compared to his usual tone of speech he almost sounds …stricken right now. Distraught by this display of debauchery your crewmates have shown the slaves and few people manning the dock. It's not noticeable unless you’ve been around him enough to read him on some level but deep down you know he feels the same way. You try to recall him taking part in the violent takeover and realize he was barely present for the ordeal. Aside from the initial violence that broke out during landing he hardly did anything and was noticeably absent once the slaves were targeted. In the back of your mind, you pray that he won't be reprimanded for the lack of effort. The thought is ridiculous but you’re scared anyway.

Stars, this is all too much, your head is swirling with grief and stress as your heart rate picks up and suddenly you are so desperate for humanity, for empathy  that you lose your filter and-

          “Couldn’t stomach it either?” You blurt out to him, desperately hoping he understands and will not judge your deep sorrow for the enslaved people affected by this brutal takedown. Your mind catches up in panic half a second later when Mando doesn’t immediately respond. Did you just seek sensitivity from the Mandalorian? Fuck. Wait. That sounded like an insult too. Fuck um-

“Ah, um I-I mean. I just mean I don’t remember you firing on anyone helpless and I um- I didn’t either, I didn’t fire my blaster at all to be honest I-Fuck- I hid. They’re just slaves not Imps, Mando. The guards were taken out in seconds and-” You hiccup and stutter as tears gather at the edges of your eyes and begin to fall. You feel so overwhelmed with anxiety and guilt that all of a sudden you forgot about his open show of emotion.

Pull it together, don't do this in front of the Mandalorian. He is the very picture of a stoic, hardened mercenary and now you’re kriffing crying in front of him? It briefly registers that this is the first time you’ve ever spoken one on one with him, the both of you were almost always alone or with members of Ran’s party during time off. You internally curse your existence for thinking you could tearfully word vomit in front of a fucking bounty hunter and get comforted by him. Your knowledge of Mandalorians is limited, despite knowing one, yet you think the point of his whole creed about giving up your identity and giving yourself to war. Why the fuck did you cry in front of a damn Manodlorian? You’re just starting to unfreeze from your panic-stricken muscles to dab at your cheeks when a gloved hand swiftly brushes just below your eye to catch a tear.

          ‘This wouldn’t have happened if that Droid could do his job,” You glance up at him in shock at his biting tone juxtaposed with the gentle gesture, but he’s already turning away, voice rotating with his visor. “The worst is over now that the shooting stopped. Let’s round up the others.”

          He pauses with his back turned and you take that moment to compose yourself. You’ve only shed a few tears so your eyes can’t be that red.

“O-okay.. .” You reply, trying to inject your usual backbone into the tone of your response before moving to follow him around the piled boxes and regroup. Staring into your warped reflection in the back of his helmet you try to find the words to thank him but they get lost in the ghosts of today.

          Your mind is still swirling but the clouds of despair have mostly cleared away. You know you don’t have time to dwell on your short interaction yet your mind is fully absorbed in his every move, both present and past. Coming from anyone else his reaction would seem shitty and dismissive but coming from Mando... well, you're honestly shocked. Those two sentences were fairly long for someone usually so silent. And what about his reaction to the way this job has gone? Him brushing away your tears?

You are gazing down at your feet deep in thought when you suddenly bonk into the back of Mandos broad back, wacking your forehead on the base of his helmet.

          “Oww.” You groan lightly, rubbing your forehead and stepping to the right of his body, “Why’d you stop so sudde-'' It is then when you notice the muffled whimpering coming from the clearing in front of the both of you. A crimson pool of blood laps at the Mandalorian’s boots, its kiss staining the leather a deep black.

Now you are truly sickened, bile rising in your throat as a ragged gasp leaves your mouth.

          “Why…? How can you..”

          “Xi’an!”

          Your choked whisper leaves your lips at the same moment the Mandalorian fucking barks the Twi’leks name.

A crumpled form adjacent to her body is the source of the whimpering and bloodshed, their contorted limbs looking less than human as muscles strain against metal binders. Xi’an’s triangular blades are dripping in her grip as she spins on her toes like a dancer and flounces childishly in the direction of your frozen form. Tearing your gaze away from the shell of a human you meet her eyes with open hostility. She stops several yards away from you.

          ‘Aha! So good to see you two. Isn’t this job sooo disappointing?” She calls out to the two of you casually. When no one responds her body deflates as she twists her knee inward and clutches one arm peevishly. Performative. “What? No hello? I could’ve died today!” She cackles at the notion.

          Mando is a statue at your side. You can feel the rage radiate in waves off his body like a heater and you wonder what's going to happen if Xi’an pushes this further. Your heightened stress from moments before is vibrating throughout your nervous system, compelling you to step forward and speak up.

          “Xi’an… this-this is completely unnecessary. The only thing required to complete our hit was taking out guards! What the fuc- and they were clearly incapacitated by you before you decided to take your blade to their skin!” Okay, that came out a little shakier than intended, but it feels like a disservice to hide your revulsion for her actions with the victim lying right there. “You could’ve just hit em’ in the skull with a blaster shot if you needed them out of your way!”

          “Guards? Oh, I already took them out. This-” Xi’an punctuates the word a kick into the person’s stomach causing them to groan weakly, “Well, this is just an Organic as Zero would put it.” Organic? Fucking- You jump slightly and glance to your left when the Mandorlorian makes a shocked exclamation at her words. Maker, you’re so sickened you forgot he was with you.

“You mean a Slave? From the shipment?” He hisses the question through his teeth. You can’t see his face but you can hear the tension in his jaw, his body still a ridged form at your side. Xi’an pokes her tongue out and runs it lightly over the pointed edge of her teeth while she considers her response. She seems to be measuring her response to Mando with a little more care than she bothered with while speaking to you. You’re guessing that she cares far more about his perception of her than your personal attitude regarding the Twi’lek. Wouldn’t want to piss off her fuck buddy.

“Answer me!” He snaps when her response takes a millisecond too long. Your purple associate sighs, exasperated now.

“Yes a slave,” she hisses, drawing out the word in contempt, “Really I’m doing him a favor. From the looks of him, he was picked up on Tatooine. I doubt he even had a family to mourn him back on that shitty dustball of a planet-” Her eyes suddenly bulge as she clamps her mouth shut, gaze fixed on the armored man betraying a twinkle of... fear?

Slowly, you turn to him. The pit in your stomach is somehow weighing heavier than ever when you take in his body language. If you thought he was emanating white-hot rage before Xi’an’s response then you don’t even have words for how he holds himself now. You take a half step back in trepidation as the air around you seems to warp around the Mandalorian’s gravitational pull.

“A foundling?” His tone is unexpectedly quiet for someone who is manipulating the very atmosphere of this desert planet. Time seems to freeze. Shadows are ebbing at the edge of your vision and your head feels like it is going to pop in the pressure. You want to do something, anything, to relieve the pressing wall closing in on the three of you, to somehow end this interaction so that you can crawl in on yourself and bury the ghosts in the back of your mind. Fuck, your mouth is so dry, heart palpitating with a painful squeeze. Shit, fuck, what do you do? What did he mean by that question and why is Xi’an freaking out? You’re still fixated on the gleam of his helmet, rushing to find appropriate words when-

A flash of red explodes in your peripheral-vision, sparks seeming to fly 20 feet in the air. The words die in your throat in shock.

Did he? Did he shoot her? You barely saw him move yet as your mind races to catch up on this turn of events, you realize his blaster is drawn low on his hip, while the rest of him hasn't shifted an inch. The pressure cooker disappears in a sweeping wave of silence.

You swallow and turn awkwardly back to Xi’an. Oh.

He shot the slave.

Xi’an is just as stiff as you, her arms slightly raised as if she instinctively tried to ward off the blaster fire before realizing its trajectory. You are still processing his actions when a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you swiftly as he runs from the scene, tossing a flash bomb behind the both of you.

Without question, you run with him.

  ----------------

  “Hey!” Within minutes your chest is burning from keeping up with Mando’s relentless pace. You’re fit from your job but he's twice as big as you and probably more than twice as fast. You get the feeling that he's moving slower than usual so you aren’t left behind. Struggling to control your breathing, you attempt to make sense of the jumbled thoughts by wheezing out, “M-Mando what are we doing?”

“Running.”

“Okay, fucking obviously!”

“To the Crest.” He clarifies just as shortly. Okay. Okay, once you reach his ship maybe you’ll get more answers. Right now, both of your priorities align with getting the fuck away from Xi’an before her vision returns and she comes after the both of you. But you can’t yet push some of the recent events to the side.

“You shot him.” You mean to phrase it like a question but it comes out more accusatory than intended with how breathless you are. “The slave you shot-“

“I ended his suffering.”

Oh. That makes sense, even if it makes your chest contract in duress you recognize his killing the slave came from a place of empathy. What exactly did he say right before drawing his blaster, something about… foundlings? You don’t know the term exactly but contextually you can guess it means orphan or alone. Fuck, this is so bad. Just what are you going to tell everyone? He may not have directed his shot at the Twi’lek but he temporarily blinded her. That still counts as an attack on a member of the team. Your chest is burning unbearably now so you slap at Mando’s vambrance to signal your need for a break. He drags you gasping around a corner into the shadowy edge of the warehouse.

“Listen, hey, look at me.” His large hand reaches out to gently grip the side of your face, warm against your skin and smelling sharply of blaster residue. Looking into his visor you realize your cheeks are damp again as hysterical hiccups threaten to make themselves known. “We are going to run. You don’t have to come with me of course but I unintentionally put you in the position of being complicit by attacking Xi’an. That-that wasn’t the plan… but I was leaving the company anyway”

His chest suddenly deflates as he rids it of air.

You realize you were holding your breath at the same time as him as you gasp out, before rubbing at your cheeks and asking dumbly, “Y-you were… leaving the company? Is Ran pissed?”

Stupid question. Of course, he’d be pissed at losing the one Mandalorian in the group. Mandos' presence gave him cred. 

“Ran doesn’t know.”

“Ran doesn’t… what? When was this happening then?”

Mando’s visor turns away from your gaze and looks off into the middle distance. His gloved hand on your face is still gripping gently to lock you in place. “Today. That’s the only reason why I agreed to let him use the Crest for this job.”

He shakes his helmet slightly and turns back to your face, the metal covering his face becoming your main focal point while the room spins. You can't see his features, and never would, yet you feel as if you are looking directly into his eyes. Your body has impeccable timing when you feel your cheeks heat blushing.

However, your senses return in an instant when a familiar piercing howl echoes off the walls. The glove drops and he is gripping your shoulders,

“Can you run again?”

Adrenaline springs your limbs into action as you spin around, catching his wrist and pulling, roles reversed as you lead him in the direction of his ship.

Dust is billowing from below whenever your feet meet the ground. The steps sound like thunder in your ears as paranoia begins to worm its way into the forefront of your senses, every corner, every shadow, every blindspot could be hiding one of your former partners. Xi’an is an excellent assassin; time and time again her main skill has proven to be stealth, targets dropping dead expectedly. The Crest isn’t very far thankfully. It sits right on the back of the targeted freighter since Zero requires physical contact to hack the other ship systems for paths. Oooohh shit you forgot about the droid- 

“Mando, Zero’s in there.” You puff out shortly in between breaths. 

“Fuck that droid. I’ll take care of him, just back me up.” You both slide around a corner as he responds, bringing the two ships into your field of view. You are facing the rear end of the larger vessel, thankfully leaving the coast clear as far as you can tell. Mando’s helmet scans the area then nods, indicating the go-ahead with his fingers before running ahead of you. You follow him, casting fervent glances behind you for any signs of life. You reach the ship a millisecond after he does, his vambrance held high to lower the rear ramp. As the ramp begins to lower he grips your shoulders and spins you around dizzily.

“Stay right outside here. The second I enter the crest I’m dropping the Droid. I’ll call you once it’s safe.” You gulp quickly and nod in assent right before he leaps into the opening of the ship.

Seconds pass. 

Your nerves are plucking way more than they normally would.. You never particularly liked Zero, but the sudden turn of taking out your ex-allies is making you high strung and nervous. Zero’s voice cuts through the silence, making you jump.

“Mandolarian, you are back early. Were the prospects plentiful despite being Organics?”

“No.” You twitch when a shot echoes in the hull followed by the clash of metal on metal.

 The Mandalorian sharply calls your name springing you into action. You enter the ship immediately spying Zero’s body under the cockpit ladder, blaster wound still smoking with red-hot metal ringing the edges. Your eyes linger a little on the droid’s body, slightly leery at the death of someone who was your backup only hours ago, then you sigh and duck to get a handle on under his shoulders, dragging him to toss out the open entryway. 

Grunting with effort you direct your voice at the cockpit, “Tossing the droid! Take off when read- Shit.”

One of the droid's hip joints gets stuck on a portion of the hull wall, preventing you from moving his corpse. Something wizzes above you at the exact moment you duck down to adjust the body, right where the back of your head was a second ago. One of Xi’an’s triangle blades ricochets off the wall and slides across the floor, stopping right under your nose. Oh f-

“Fuck! Fly, fly, she's here Mando!” You lurch to the floor as the thrusters kick in, twisting your head to try and get eyes on the clearing. Through the rapidly closing ramp, you see a flash of purple skin, but before you have time to react the Crest door snaps shut. Heart thudding at what feels like a million beats per second, you try to get your bearings on the floor. Twisting sideways you suddenly find yourself face to face with Zero’s corpse, revulsion whipping through you like lightning as you scramble backward on your hands and feet.

    You can’t do this right now. 

    The last thing you want is to seem weak and needy in front of the man who just selflessly saved your life, for reasons still unknown, but you can’t do this right now. A creature of habit, you fold your neck between your legs, the same reaction you had to the violence on Cantonica. A minute, you just need a minute, a minute and then this horrible drone will go away, and you can deal with this, you’re a fucking mercenary…  the blackness swarming at the edges of your sight overtakes you all at once and you slide limply to the floor.

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

  You aren’t sure how much time has passed once you rouse. At your request, Mando tosses Zero's body before kicking into hyperdrive right about 120,000 feet in the air. You stare at its flight path until the speck disappears in the taupe shithole that is Cantonica. Feeling shaky as your adrenaline finally dips, you decide that the Crest could do with a once over before the long journey. 

After performing a quick analysis on the Crests systems it’s determined that the two of you are lucky this hunk of metal can fly. Hyperdrive operating at 67% capacity, weak communication signal if it even works half the time, plus more damage than you can currently process. If there weren’t five million different stressors weighing on you, your mechanic brain would probably explode at the current state of Mando’s ship. He probably should’ve taken it to you, or anyone else handy with tools if he wanted it to be in proper form for departure, but it makes sense that he didn’t want to draw too much attention. Hopefully, his pilot skills will compensate for the Crest’s sorry state. 

 To be fair, the whole blow-up-your-coworker-and-run-for-your-life aspect didn’t seem to be in Mando’s original plan. 

“So… where are we going?” You’re on the floor in the cockpit, back facing the passenger chair while the Mandalorian is seated pilot. After crawling under the console for a while you couldn’t bother to lift your aching muscles on the chair, resigning to scoot on your butt over to the closest object that could support you. As a result, you end up craning your neck to look up at him, his back straight in the chair. 

“My original plan was to head to Nevarro to take on a few quarries. I’m still with the guild and Karga doesn’t give a shit whether I’m running with Ran or going in alone.” You bite your lip anxiously. Oh yeah, you kinda forgot your presence threw wrench in his plan. He notices and tilts the helmet sideways at you, “You’re not in the way. I’m not concerned about you joining me, someone of your skillset is helpful to have around. I’ll introduce you to Karga so you can get on your feet.”

The compliment lifts your spirits enough to make you playful, poking at his boot with your toe, “Gee, glad I’m useful enough to keep around. All I have is my blaster and the clothes on my back, so if you drop me, I’d be  pretty fucked.” 

You giggle quietly but you know it’s the truth. All of your possessions are back on the space station, but you didn’t own too many personal artifacts, aside from some clothes and weapons. The only thing of use would’ve been your credits. You worry again at the realization, dipping your head before continuing to speak,

“Shit Mando, I don’t have any money on me. It was all back in my bunk, I don’t know how I’ll help pay for things around here unless Karga decides I can take on a quarry right away. Even then I’ll have to bring it back before I ever have a lick to my name.”

“You can make it back. I’ll split the profit from jobs that you assist me on. Cut depends on how useful you are and once you prove yourself, Karga will give you the decent pucks.” He swivels the chair and faces you, knees slightly spread as he leans forward in the chair, “Deal?”

You swallow and nod your head, mind blanking at how your head is level with the bend in his hips. You don’t think he's trying to come across as suggestive but the effect, intentional or not, invites a flutter of desire in your tummy. The Mandalorian leans back on his leather backing and sighs, the sound gentle despite the modulator warping his natural tone,

“You aren’t in my way. I swear it. If I had more time before leaving I would’ve asked you to join me anyway, you're good with your hands and always had more… compassion? Than anyone else in the company. I admire that quality.” That makes you straighten back up to meet his visor. He sounds nearly shy.

“O-oh…” You never even thought he noticed you aside from when you touched up the Razor Crest. The compliment sends warmth throughout your body, as languid as sex pollen in the near feverish effect. You don’t know how to respond at all, you’re feeling disjointed, like you may reveal too much if you don't change the subject soon. You wish you could be snappier but you’re exhausted. Maybe try for a joke?

“I g-guess you value girls good with their hands, huh. H-haha?”

Silence. Hm. 

That was the absolute worst thing you could’ve come up with. 

It didn’t meet even a single one of your simple ass goals, which entail the following:

Thank him.

Change the subject.

Not reveal how much his words make you want him to rail you.

    Wow, what the fuck- kill me. He hasn’t moved an inch, much less reacted to your shitty joke. The positioning of your bodies that you found so hot ten seconds prior is now a place you’d try anything to escape from. It’s almost comical how his height advantage serves to emphasize the disappointment in the small room. He hasn’t responded so you’re guessing he won’t bother to try. Heavy silence suffocates you to the point of desperation, you need to fill it with something right now or you swear you’ll die. 

    “I-I jus-t mean like- Well you had certain- ah- habits, you’d adhere to in your free time. Li-like um, I mean you didn’t hide much. Kinda obvious if you- listen, uh, I didn’t mean t-to say that I-I was joking around-”

“Get to the point.”

“I-” Your tummy fills with heat at his command. “Umm..” You wipe your hands on your thighs and glance down from his voice. The hours of on and off adrenaline must be majorly messing with your head. It’s kinda weird that you want him this badly after everything that went down today. Wasn’t your most recent concern something about avoiding death at the hands of a bitch you hate most in the galaxy? To be honest you can’t recall. 

The proximity of his groin is suddenly at the forefront of your mind. Again.

He slowly tilts his helmet to look at you, arms bending to settle in a relaxed position on the armrests. You are extremely aware of how you’re blatantly staring at him but your mind is slow to come up with a valid response, blankness written in the reflection on his visor. His position on the chair is mountainous, looming over your body in a way that boxes you in between the passenger seat and the Crest console. You feel like a prey animal... In a sexy way? Maybe?

Although, when he leans back into his seat, helmet still trained on your face, you are unsure if you’re actually pissing him off or not.

“Say what you mean.” 

Okay, the sexy is mixing a little with anxiety. 

“Ah- Um well, I just mean like. It’s not like you hid it from me- everyone else too. In the company. Ran’s company? ‘Cause, I- We… always overheard you and Xi’a- Her…” Fuck, your mouth is so dry that last part came out like a squeak. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling again um, I kinda thought you were doing it on purpose. With Xi’an. Making me hear when you’d...fuck her.” Cheeks blazing, you duck your head back down, which doesn’t help at all since you’re just face to face with his crotch once more. 

    “You say ‘always’...” Mando’s inflection is lost somewhere between statement and question, his tone confusing enough that you end up lifting your head from its bowed position below him. 

“Y-yes?”

“As in this was a common position you found yourself in? Did you overhear me multiple times?” Now he poses not one but two questions for you, neither of which you feel brave enough to answer steadily. You can’t deflect further at this point so you answer him with a sigh.

“No, I only heard you once. Xi’an always wanted me to hear her though. It was gross.” Mortified, you gather your legs under your body to stand up from the floor. You think the hyperdrive issue is fixed well enough to hold until Nevarro. When your hand reaches for the edge of the armrest to pull yourself up it is abruptly enveloped in warm leather. Half crouched, your arm jerks back a little in surprise at his touch. 

“I wasn’t asking about myself specifically. And I wouldn’t force you to participate in her games, had I known.”

Maker strike my ass down. Can humans die from embarrassment? You wish it were possible if it got you out of this conversation. He’s correct, he didn’t specify whether you had heard his moaning. If you weren’t nursing these stupid feelings for Mando you never would’ve given away the fact that you memorized every tantalizing second of what you overheard. Not only is this embarrassing, but you don’t want him to think you’re a sicko who wanted to eavesdrop in the first place. The clarification about his awareness of Xi'an's timing is comforting but not enough to erase what you already admitted to him. You somehow feel sweaty and bone-dry at the same time, a flush spreading over your face.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I heard you too.”

You both speak at the same second, and a beat passes before either of you process what the other said. He- what? What is he talking about? Are we having two totally different conversations right now? When did you ever fuck someone on that space station anyway… unless he means… in the fresher…

This time he is the one who breaks the silence, “You’re sorry for… overhearing me?” 

“Y-yes, I really, really, don’t want you to think I’m a creep or anything. Anything I heard was involuntary, I swear. Xi’an w-wanted to make me… Um…” You trail off shyly, sitting down again. His hand is still over yours.

“Get to the point.” His voice is filled with heat now, so low and compelling that you’d tell him anything just to keep it that way. You whisper your response, lifting your eyes to his dark visor wishing you could meet his gaze.

“She wanted to make me jealous. Over you.”

“Mm… You wanted me instead?”

“Maker, yes.”

The climate between you and the Mandalorian made a 180. Nerves dissolving like honey in tea, all at once being taken over by a hum of sexual tension while his fingers caress a warm pattern over your knuckles. Exhilaration builds within you, though in the back of your mind you are calculating the possible motives behind his advance. 

You know sometimes, after a particularly rough day, people are compelled to relieve their pent-up stress through intimacy. There’s a reason why the market of sex work thrives under wartime, terror existing constantly in a fighter’s life must be paired with the softer, inner-most comforts of knowing another living being, or they’d go mad with sorrow. Brothels made a lot of money during the last stages of the Empire’s rule from both Imps, Rebels, and neutral parties alike.

It’s not out of the ordinary for you to seek each other out right now, yet can’t help but dream that this might mean more. 

The Mandalorian’s hand currently encasing yours flips your wrist to trace the lines of your palm. Sighing you tilt your head to the side, a curtain of hair cascading across your features. His free hand reaches out to brush the strands away before he gently grips your jaw, hand large enough to press his thumb on the front of your chin while his fingers wrap lightly under your ear. 

“I heard you too, pretty girl. You called out for me in the fresher… just what were you doing in there? Describe it- please.” He speaks with such allure that you break under his voice, pressing your cheek to his palm.

    “I-I thought of you watching me while I touched my pussy. I was so wet thinking about how I want you to feel me after being under all your armor, Stars, even the wind can’t touch you Mando. I thought about how you must crave the feeling of something so soft… can I show you how soft I am?” Your free hand raises to rest gently on his knee, fingertips hesitating at the edge of his thigh piece. He is still fully suited for battle, explosives strapped to one boot and rifle across his shoulders. 

You wish so badly to help him unwind, you would never disrespect him by trying to remove his armor, but you want to help him move past the experience that was Cantonica. Mando continues to stare at you for several tense seconds before melting into your touch.

“H-helmet stays on.” He breathes out shakily, a slight tremor running through his legs as your fingers lightly explore the fabric under the edge of the piece of metal. “But the rest… the rest can come off.” 

He’s already moving to undo the magnetic connectors holding his cuirass in place so you scramble to follow his movements. The rust-colored armor on his body has complex enough attachments that you don’t really know where to begin. Your hands clamber around, mostly following his deft movements. Slowly a man of flesh and blood is revealed, and as his impenetrable exterior melts away you find the true shape of him. 

The armor serves to add a few inches of bulk on his features, enhanced proportions making out a dramatic silhouette designed to be spotted from miles away. Without it his body is still so powerful, built hard as stone and broad, hard angles melding enticingly with a hidden softness. Not hidden- you realize -it compliments him completely. The pieces fall away and you’re left with the unexplored bareness of him. He is human and warm, evidence of this betrayed in rare moments where his hands travel lightly up your arms while you work at his pauldrons, brushing through your hair here and there before finally returning to your jaw to hover in front of your lips. 

“Off.” He instructs shortly, brushing the seam of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your mouth falls open to explore him with your tongue, tasting salt, blaster residue, and a hint of the heat he holds in his body. Satisfied, you bite down gently on the glove ridge, watching as he pulls off the leather encasing his hand and drinking in the sight of golden skin as it is revealed to you inch by inch. All you’ve seen of him is one bare hand and somehow it is the sexiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Flames lick your body, spreading from your white-hot core, energy gathering with such impassioned motions that at any second now it will burst from your skin, a reaction so immense that you could birth another galaxy.

You want to taste his skin too.

“Fuck baby-” You take his middle finger down to the knuckle, emboldened by his slurred reaction, noises startling to babble out of the bounty hunter as his stoicism falls apart under your tongue. Humming around the digit, you start to bob your head gently, eyes locked on his impassive visor while filthy, filtered noises drift through the beskar. It’s like there is no barrier at all between you, the air thrumming with a longing so great that you feel one with the man crumbling before you. If you're not careful you will fall with him. 

“Mando, Plea-se,” You stutter around him, voice shaking more than intended. “I want to f-feel more of you, let me touch you, please-” You squawk, mouth empty when he suddenly rips off the other glove, tossing it behind him before reaching down his torso to pull the hem of his trousers south. You gulp in trepidation, unable to tear your eyes away as enticing dark hair displays itself, leading to the base of his cock. He pauses, but you’re so caught up in discovering him that you don’t notice the tonal shift.

“Before I show you this-” dark words enunciated by palming his cock through the fabric, “I need to know where to put it.” 

What kind of question is that? You’re honestly bewildered, mind blank before you realize that the options are overwhelming. In his own way, he is asking you to verbalize consent, which is very much appreciated. You want him in your pussy, to work his way deep in your body and in turn, discover just how human you are... yet… You feel oddly unprepared. It’s not that you don't think you can take him, in fact you can't recall ever being this wet in your life. It’s just… after today… you want to help him unwind but you’re still not fully there. You still want to please him, but you’re not ready to let him know you that way, not until you come back to yourself. 

So in that case…

“I want you in my mouth, hunter.” 

Mando growls then grabs your wrist, guiding it over the edge of fabric and onto his throbbing length. He shudders while you process the feeling of him. He is thick, the width of his cock so wide that your middle finger and thumb are straining to meet each other. You release him from his pants then try to pull at the hem to wiggle them down his thighs. He obliges and lifts his hips so that you can reveal more delicious olive skin, but he makes no move to assist you with his hands. You get the feeling that he is drinking in your efforts to touch him, the sensation of your jerky movements giving away how much you want him. 

You kiss and nibble at every possible moment, one hand drifting lightly over the length of him, twirling at the base dusted with short, dark hairs, cupping his balls then moving back up, your mouth traveling to meet your fingers. Hissing, his hand flashes up to meet the back of your head, fingers tangling in strands to tug tightly on your scalp. With a light moan, you tongue along the side of him, teasing hot air more than actually licking him. 

“Look at me- fuck - pretty thing, s-so fucking willing for me, I want to see you take my cock as far as you can, s-show me how much you can handle-” He pulls harder at your hair, dragging you roughly enough to control your neck, back up from where you were sucking at his hip to the head of his dick. “Are you going to show me yourself before or after I gag you on it?”

Fuck, you never realized how tantalizing submitting to another person could be, not until that came out of his mouth, rough enough to clip through the modulator. You elect to show him what you can handle. Leaning forward to meet the swollen tip, you part your plush lips and kiss at the drop of precum gathered there, before relaxing your jaw to take him halfway. He groans and nearly doubles over at the sudden sensation, holding you there for a second before you draw back up to spread your saliva more thoroughly. Lips rewet, you sink back down on him, gliding smoothly as you pull his cock deep within your mouth, drinking in his breathy groans.

“Maker, yes … that’s it, fuck-” You attempt to sink even further down on the Mandalorian’s impressive length, but stop short a few inches from his base, blunt head pressing in your throat. “-so good, s-so good for me baby, you look perfect like this.”

He’s so far back inside you that you can’t access your vocal cords to produce any noise at all, otherwise you’d be whining at his praise. Your hands are free to assist you at any time, you could circumvent his daunting length if you wanted help. But you want to impress him. Besides, your palms are warm on his torso, traveling under his shirt to feel the ropes of muscle there. You don’t want to remove them. 

You surface to the tip, taking a deep breath in preparation before ducking to take him as deep as you can manage. He watches you, entranced at the sight of a face so lovingly strained to please him. Your gag reflex spasms but you will it away, determined to fully engulf his cock at least once even if you find you’re unable to handle more. The noises rising from your throat are brutal and raw as you choke around him, his helmet blurring when tears fill your eyes. You bob a little then almost give up when the urge to retreat floods your senses but then he starts talking again- so filthy that you can’t stop yet.

“You’re trying so fucking hard, fuck, I love seeing you wrapped around my cock, Maker, you feel so fucking good, I can’t imagine how your little pussy must feel, you’re so warm, so, fu-fuck, tight…” The stream of filth serves as your motivation to bob for as long as possible on his length, throat stretched obscenely around him. You realize hazily that there are tears streaming from your eyes, but the urge to pull off is lost in dizziness as the oxygen in your lungs depletes. You keep going and going, your high at its peak as you recognize that your body is starting to fade in black. You should pull off and breathe, one quick breath is all you need, but the way he’s filling you is more addicting than the purest Spice. He notices when you start to slump into his lap and pulls you up gasping for air. 

Nearly fainting never felt so good.

“Shit, are you alright?” You nod and rest your cheek on his thigh, face turned on its side to meet his visor as he spins little circles in your vision. A soothing hand brushes against your cheekbone, tracing a gentle pattern on its height. “You were doing so good for me baby. No need to hurt yourself.” Mando’s voice is still breathless, offering you tenderness through a cloud of stimuli.

“I’m okay- I’m… I just need to catch m-my breath.” You’re still heaving unevenly but you want him so bad, you want him to finish for you, your wants translating into weak pawing at his dick trying to give him more sensation. He catches your wrist with an airy laugh and guides your uncoordinated movements to better stroke him. The sound fills you with light.

“Pretty thing, I know you want me. Try to not die on my dick before I’ve had the chance to feel your cunt.” His hand leaves yours on his length and reaches over your ass to cup the apex of your thighs through your pants. You jerk up and almost crack the crown of your head open on the chin of his beskar but his other palm is pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you bent over in his lap. A garbled noise tears from you when his index and ring finger spread on either side of your outer lips, allowing his middle finger space to travel up and down your seam, so wet that you can feel the slickness gathering through two layers of fabric onto the tip of his finger.

“Ah, Fuck! Mando, I-I- wait please, please, wait-” He draws his hand up away from your wet center, reaching your asscheek before you yelp and snatch his forearm to stop him from retreating farther. “I s-still wanna, I wanna make you come. You first, before-before me.”

“Baby, you’re… fuck okay. Can I still touch you?” Mando caresses your hip at the fold where it meets your thigh. 

“Later, let me d-do this, please.” He allows you to lift his arm from your spine and rest it on the crown of your head as you move forward and try to meet his cock again. Pulling his thighs to the edge of the chair, you settle back on your knees and stroking him one-handed while he hums low in his throat. You wrap your lips around the swollen head, sucking and swirling your tongue before taking him deeper, this time using a palm to stroke the last few inches instead of opening your throat. Starting up a rhythm of bopping and stroking his velvety length that pulls incredible noises out of the Mandalorian, each one going straight to your swollen clit. 

Coming up for air you start to jerk him off faster with your slick hand, meeting the T of his visor with your heated gaze, hoping that you are finding his eyes. He must enjoy the sight of you jerking him off because his moans start to tighten, hips thrusting into your palm. 

“K-keep fucking doing that, good girl, fuck I-I’m close, where-where do you want it, baby?” You respond by settling low near his thighs, putting his cock above you with your tongue sticking out, wetting the tip while your wrist moves faster. Somehow he’s harder than ever and-

Mando curses through his teeth as his cock convulses, warm spurts of cum painting your tongue, cheeks, and nose bridge, rivers of him flowing down your chin and dribbling on the swell of your chest. He grips the back of your head tight enough to hurt, then rips one hand down to stroke himself, smearing the mess across your features. 

The fingers on your scalp loosen then graciously begin rubbing at the base of your neck to soothe the soreness on your head. One of your eyelids is sealed shut due to a rope of his cum crossing from nose to eyebrow, the other eye unfocused, hazy with pleasure as you listen to him come down from his peak. A low noise rises from your throat as he massages your scalp, feeling tingly all over as blood flows back to the area.

“T-Thank you… that was great, I-“ he breaks off when you start to gather his cum off your skin, licking it off your fingers while studying his visor through your lashes. “Hey, let me…” 

He surprises you by wiping at your face with his cape, still hanging off the arm of the pilot chair from when you detached it. You giggle, “Is there a way to wash that on here? I can’t even tell if that hole in the wall includes a shower.” 

“There’s enough to work with.” 

You laugh louder at that, “That’s encouraging. I hope there’s ‘enough to work with’ so that I don’t meet Karga covered in cum.” Pausing to consider your current position, you add, “Actually, that might help my case.” 

Face wiped mostly clean, you're able to open both eyes now, taking in his posture. A jolt shoots through you when you realize he’s holding himself differently for some reason, he looks almost predatory but maybe that’s just the effect of Beskar’s harsh angles... Nope, he’s leaning forward now, caging you in again.  

“You want to look sexy for Karga?” Gulping, you try to figure out the best response but he continues before your slow-ass mind can catch up, “You’re right, that might help you get better pucks. But I don’t know if I want my hunting partner to be introduced that way. I still need to return the favor…” 

He lifts your body with ease, pulling you sideways onto his lap. Mando’s warm hand slides along the bend in your knee, slow and sensual on your body. He caresses you aimlessly, relaxed in the afterglow of cumming so hard. You’re still tightly wound, energy balled in your body as his movements serve to wind you up even more. But he’s not moving any faster so you relax into his broad chest, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin. 

Time blurs with your senses. His touch pulls you to a place right out of your daydreams, where everything is draped in velveteen and silk. You’ve honestly forgotten his original goal in the first place, and as his arm begins to drag on its path, it seems like he has too. The stroking on your arm has lowered your arousal to a simmer, leaving you content to stay laying across his lap, the glow of hyperspace streaking over your bodies. All at once, you realize he’s no longer moving over your body, his chest rising and falling deeply against your shoulder. 

He’s asleep. Surprise registers sleepily somewhere in your exhausted mind, the realization behind layers of warm fuzz. Didn’t even think he slept. 

There’s a full day of travel until you reach Nevarro. Snuggling closer into the warm crook of his neck to resolve to live in this dream for as long as possible. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.