#@me if you want friendly banter I just hope no one gets mad at me again lol

[spicyicymeloncat]

I saw a lot of nexo knights reviews saying that I it’s a Ninjago rip off. And I disagree (they have very different plots and structures). However I want to put forward the notion that nexo knights is actually…

A legends of Chima rip off

(For all intents and purposes this is a joke I only watched one episode of chima lol and Ik they are very different shows pls don’t be offended)

[holylulusworld]

BFG (1)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: size kink, flirty reader, objectification of Reacher, language

BFG masterlist

“Fuck me, that guy could break me into two halves,” you sigh dreamily as the new face in town steps into the diner. “What a man.”

You lick your lips. He’s tall, and you mean tall when you say it. If anyone wants you to guess, you’d say he’s at least 6’5.

“Y/N, what was the price of the peach pie again?” The new waitress asks. She’s pretty and friendly but her memory is not the best.

Maybe she just smokes too much weed. You don’t blame her. This sleepy little town does this to you. If you don’t take drugs or drink, you spend the time dreaming of a different life.

You sigh again, this time out of frustration because you must take your eye off the thick hottie and turn your attention toward Sally Ann, the new waitress.

“It’s…” You tell her the price while dipping your head to glance at the newbie's ass when he passes the counter by. “Damn him, he’s thick too. What do you weigh, baby? Two hundred and fifty pounds?”

“Miss,” Sally Ann almost whimpers when this mountain of a man asks her about the peach pie. She looks a little lost, and you gladly jump in to turn his attention toward you.

“You can come over here,” you tap the counter. “This spot looks like you’ll fit in.” You grin as he chuckles at your bad joke about his size. “The seat is extra-large. One of our regulars needed a little extra space and cushion.”

“I guess he was tall too,” He asks while plopping down on the larger seat. The seat creaks under his weight and you hope he didn’t break it. Even though, you wouldn’t mind if he tries to break you.

“In size, not height,” you shrug. “That’s what I heard. This was before my time, and he died some years ago. This means, the seat is all yours now, sweetie.”

“Sweetie,” his laughter is deep and rich as he tries to not blush at your flirty banter. “No one ever called me sweet.”

“What a shame,” you pat his hand. Fuck. It looks like his hand is as big as one of your plates. “So, tell me,” you lean closer to whisper, “are you a BFG or are you a bad guy.”

“BFG?” He cocks his head. “Oh…” He chuckles again. “I’m friendly, don’t worry. I only get mad if you want to…”

“Fuck with you?” You cockily reply and mirror his smirk. “Hmm…I don’t think you could handle me, sweetie. I’m too much of a woman for most of the guys in town.”

His eyes scan your body at your words. He hums and drops his eyes to your ass. “I can handle any situation.” His face remains stoic, but his eyes give his dirty thoughts away. “Can I have a slice of the peach pie, ma’am?”

“Only if you never call me ma’am again,” you point a manicured finger at the giant. “People called my granny ma’am.”

“You don’t look like a granny to me,” he waves his huge hand to brush your concern off. “More like you are stranded in a place you don’t belong.” Ah, he tries to analyze you while checking your ass and tits out. “You’re not here for long.”

“Just like you,” you wink at him. “I’ll get you your pie now, and you better eat it up. It’s the best in town.”

“I bet he can break a bone only by grabbing you too hard,” Sally Ann watches the newbie eat his pie. “I wouldn’t want him to touch me. He looks like a brute.”

“No, sweetie,” you let your eyes wander from his broad shoulders, down to his wide back and further to his perfect ass, “he’s the kind of guy knowing how to handle a woman. I don’t think he underestimates his strength. The only problem is, he’s too big for my bed.”

“What?” Sally Ann squeaks. “Don’t tell me you want to take him home.”

“I’d take him anywhere he wants to go,” you nonchalantly admit. “It’s been ages since a real man tried to put his hands on me. This man over there has hands as big as our plates. He knows how to touch a woman.”

You bite your lower lip when he dips his head to look at you. He smirks and lifts the now empty plate. “Can I have another one?”

God, how you love a man who can eat. “Sure, sweetie,” you make your way toward him, swaying your hips on purpose. He glances at Sally Ann who looks a little scared. “How do you like your pie? Do you want some whipped cream too?”

He shrugs. “I’m not picky.”

“You can be picky,” you wink at him. “I won’t let you leave this town hungry and unsatisfied.”

His eyes darken at your words. “What can you recommend? What’s your specialty?”

“I asked you first,” you hold out your hand. “I’m Y/N, what’s your name?”

“Reacher,” he gruffly replies, but his hand takes yours. It’s huge in contrast to your hand, but warm and surprisingly gentle. “I’m here for…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” You hastily say. “I know you are not the kind of man answering questions. If you promise me to not cause trouble at the diner, you are always welcome here.”

“I can’t promise to not cause trouble but,” he squeezes your hand, “I promise that I’ll try not to cause trouble at your diner.”

“You know that this is my diner? How?”

“Sally Ann over there and the other waitresses always look at you for confirmation. The guests show more respect to you, and you don’t keep the tips. You put the money into the tip jar the waitresses share at the end of their shift.”

“You’re quite observant, Reacher.”

“I assume you took over the diner from your,” he searches your face. “Grandmother not so long ago. You still try to figure things out, but your pie tastes great.”

“She died six months ago. Granny left me her house, and the diner,” you sigh, and drop your gaze. “I left my well-paid job, and life behind. She was always good to me, and I didn’t bring it over me to sell the diner.”

“What was your job?” You’ve got the feeling the conversation turned out to be an interrogation.

“Aw, sweetie,” you wink at him, “if you want to know more about me, buy me dinner first.”

He watches you walk away, wondering if you have anything to do with the crime he investigates. Reacher shakes his head. No. You don’t look like a killer. And he doesn’t think for one second that you can break a guy’s neck.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Sally Ann asks. She’s still intimidated by Reacher’s size or rather his cheer presence at the diner.

“Where’s Y/N?” He cocks his head to look for you.

“I don’t know. She looked pissed and went to the back entrance.”

“I-“ he gets his wallet out to throw money onto the counter. Reacher follows you out of the back entrace, searching for you.

“Whoa, watch your step,” you push your hands against his firm chest to stop him from running the poor dog over. “Hey, that’s his spot. You are not allowed to leave through this entrance.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. He's relieved that you are not on the run, because you are the killer. “I was looking for you. I didn’t want to piss you off asking about your job.”

“Huh? I didn’t leave because you asked me about my job,” you point out. “I saw that bastard from across the street chase this poor guy away. He was only looking for food.”

“Someone tried to hurt the dog?” He squares his jaw. “Who? What did they do?”

You crouch down to add water to the feeding bowl. “The owner of the fancy new restaurant across the street. He always shoos away the kids and pets. I don’t like that man.”

“Restaurant across the street. Got it,” he looks like he makes a mental note. “Is that little boy your dog?”

“He only comes around to get free food,” you smile as the stray feasts on the food you bought for him. “I wanted to take him home, but I guess he likes his freedom. He checks in once in a while to let me know he’s still alive.”

“A stray,” Reacher watches you pat the dog. “Maybe he’s scared of settling down. Someone must’ve chased him away before.”

“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully and pat the dog’s head. “I only want to protect him. If he runs around town the guy from across the street will hurt him.”

“He won’t.” You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder. “I got a few things to take care of in town. Do you know a cheap motel?”

“I got a spare room I rent out,” you hastily say. “I mean, you could have it. It has got a bathroom too. You can use the kitchen if you clean it afterward. If you help me repair the sink, you can have it for free.”

He nods and holds out his hand to help you up. “I can’t tell you when I’ll be around.”

“Don’t worry,” you grab his hand to write your address on his hand. “You can come around anytime.” His eyes widen when you put a key in his hand next.

“You trust me enough to hand me a key to your home?” He looks surprised. “You’re a little careless.”

“Believe me,” you pat his chest, “I’m not careless, nor dumb. I know exactly who I let inside my house.”

Reacher quirks a brow at your words but doesn’t ask what you mean. You turn your attention back toward the dog, and he’s got work to do.

He will start with the restaurant owner across the street.

Part 2

All works tags

@yolobloggers

@shikshinkwon

@miraclesoflove

@mogaruke

@shatteredabby

@soryuwifeyxx

@letsdisneythings

@i-love-superheroees-blog

@thevelvetseries

@anaelsbrunette

@sabascio

@goodgodimaweirdperson

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@wally-darling-hyperfixation

@zxph-yr

@belovedcherry

@matsumama

@emoryhemsworth

@buckybarnesplumwhore

@coldmuffinbanditshoe​

@princesssterek​

@xoxabs88xox​

@wandering-spiritash​

@riathearora

@the-loml-got-nailed

@greeneyedblondie44​

@gh0stgurl​

@charmed-asylum​ 

@fallen-wolf22​

@thegirlnextdoorssister​

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187​

@black-rose-29​

@caplanbuckybarnes​

@wykkedwitch​

@sexicherri3​

@loki-laufeyson-1054​

@liloxclu

@km-ffluv​

@bubsonnobx

[zetomato]

Brand New One (rant)

I need to understand something so I really want people to answer and tell me because I know my viewpoint on the QSMP cannot physically be perfect and whole.

I haven’t watched any POV in a few days (Due to being sick af, lel) but I’m hearing more and more confusing things coming from this fandom. I’ll point out some of them and hope people will explain more points of view to clear up the extremely confusing situations. (While tagging this neg because I don't want this on main for peeps trying to chill)

Ok so we can all agree that it’s impossible to watch everyone’s POV. Just taking the more active streamers gives you over 9h/day to watch, taking into account that they often are live at the same time and you get already more than anyone should watch their screens in a day (I say that as a Graphic Designer, I keep watching screens, that’s my job). Add everyone else and you got easily over 20h/day. So yeah, for viewers, that’s intense. So it’s even more impossible for streamers since, well, they have to plan their streams and… stream.

Good.

So why are people mad at Philza for not knowing Tubbo lore that happened while he wasn’t on the server, some even when he was streaming something else? I know that there’s always that weird moment when something happens for the character you main and then you switch POV and the information doesn’t line up, but why is it expected? Getting super into a storyline is incredible, it’s nice, it’s saying how immersive someone’s RP and storytelling is, how much it resonates with you. But this is live RP, not a script. People will read tones wrong, mishear/misunderstand, make mistakes, talk at the wrong time, mess with friends, have the wrong timing. A bunch of weird stuff will happen.

None of them are doing this out of spite, hell, they are making a point to make sure everyone is included and supported and they have ways to talk to each other when there’s a problem. The ones I know of who do chat with others/in other’s chat are Phil, Tubbo, Cellbit and Etoiles. (there are way more, those are the ones I saw do it/heard say it)

Then there’s the question of doing a critique of the CC’s under the guise of “Oh it’s about the character!”

Yes, QSMP and RP servers in generals bring you HARD into a story to the point sometimes things are hard to differentiate. I’ve reread books and got confused about something before I realized that they were headcanon things I grabbed from fanfics and not canon book events. But some of y’all need to step back. I saw people doing critiques of someone’s laugh or gesture or playstyle under the “Q!” excuse. These are real people, y’all. A CC not reading the room, Tubbo talking loudly over Bagi because he didn’t notice the situation and adjusting when told, Philza not immediately getting that Tubbo’s death was his canon last one and then adjusting to follow the mood. There’s been dozens of those situations since the start of the server, there will be a dozen more.

The players can deal with those situations themselves, they are adults, but I’ve seen some people on here getting weird information and spreading even weirder gossip about a character being mean/rude/an ass when they’re sharing friendly banter or just, not immediately getting a joke or an important moment.

No, Tubbo was not planning on talking over Bagi, he had a lot to say and didn’t notice everything.

No, Phil was not ignoring Tubbo’s lore, he was unaware this death was canon and did not watch a stream while he was already streaming.

People are people. CCs play Characters and aren’t professional actors with scripts. They chill in each other's chats sometimes.

Can we now play nice and take a chill pill about streamers being mean and heartless?

[aishabbbb]

The set up

I can't find the requesters comment so sorry TT Also sorry to the requester, I had exams all of last week so this is VERY late but I hope you enjoy

Gojo Satoru

What was there not to say about this man? He was the strongest sorcerer. The only person to have been born with six eyes in 100 years. How his birth changed the balance of Jujutsu society. But the only thing you can think of when you hear his name is how much of a dick he is.

He was your senior, being a grade above you. But being a senior doesn't give him any of your respect. Though you didn't have to see him as often since you were in seperate classes, whenever you would be forced to stay in the same room; it was war.

This man LOVED to make fun of everything you do. Do you have a weird walk? Mentions it in front of everyone. "Why do you always stomp, Y/N?" Make a tiny mistake pronouncing a word? "What the hell is Conmusion??" He makes fun of the way you fight in combat, uses his six eyes to see if you are lying in conversation and announces if you are in front of the person you are lying to.

He basically makes your life at school hell when he is around. But this goes both ways. You make fun of his pronounciation on words a lot more since he is prone to slurring his speech. You steal his belongings and spread them throughout the schools grounds(the school is HUGE) so he has to spend time searching for it. You make fun of his HORRIBLE posture and how he sits. "You know how Mothers say they are eating for two, well you sit for two Gojo with your big ass legs."

The worst thing you do is becoming Geto's biggest cheerleader. "Omg Get you are so strong!" "Wow Geto, I didn't know you were this intelligent!" "Geto, can you help me with this, since you're so good." This normally wouldn't bother him too much, but you ALWAYS compare him to his friend. "God, why can't you be more like Geto? He is so nice!" "Geto is WAAAY cooler than you." "Geto is so smart, I thought you would pick up on some of that smartness too since you're friends. But I guess not."

For all anyone knows, you two HATE eachother. But not Gojo.

________________________________________

He felt somwthing weird when he met you for the first time. At that time he didn't really seem to care about it, but throughout the next few months, that feeling just grew. What was it? He didn't have an answer and neither did you. He thought at first it was his hate for you. Whenever you entered the room, he felt it. When he heard of your name in conversation, he felt it. It came to him in his thoughts, dreams, and every picture he saw of you.

But if it was hate, why was he so mad when he saw you getting close to another person? When you hugged Haibara or Nanami. When he saw you being friendly with Geto. He felt anger grow. But not to you. To the other person. He wanted no one to be that close to you- at least any guy to be that close. He never felt jealous over how close you and Shoko are. So why was he this mad at the guys?

He didn't recognize these feelings until you forced him into watching this romance movie(You never asked him, you wanted to watch it with Haibara only but Gojo invited himself) called 10 things I hate about you(my favourite romcom) and this movie changed him. The poem made him realize what that feeling in him was.

It was love. He was in love with you.

"Oh god..." he sighs out as he comes to this realization. What kind of hole did he dig himself into? You HATED him with a burning passion, the same he thought he felt. But Gojo being him thought you might feel the same.

________________________________________

"I love you Y/N."

"What...?"

You two were having your daily banter session, when he decides to tell you his true feelings. He was confident that you loved him as well. I mean, who wouldn't?

"I said I love you? Are you deaf? Go out with me." He pratically demands. He put a finger flicked your forehead while leaning over you. He was grinning down at you.

"I'm not deaf!" You say, pushing him away. "And I will not go out with you."

"...what?" He barely says back. This makes you smile a little. "Are you deaf? I said I will NOT date you." You are now smirking.

Gojo looks at you with a look of suprise. No? With this expression, you decide to continue to patronize him "Listen, I know you are so used to getting whatever you want, but that will not happen here mister. I don't care if you are so strong or rich, none of that is enough to get me." You finished.

He couldn't say anything, so you end up just leaving him standing. ________________________________________

Something felt weird. After that day, you couldn't help but notice it. He was on you mind. All the time. At first, you thought it was because of his sudden confession; of course you'd think of that! But the thoughts just kept flooding in your mind. They never appeared until after he left on a mission with Shoko for 5 days. It was insufferable. Everything reminded you of him. You couldn't eat or sleep with a thought of him interupting it.

But why were you thinking so much of him? Did you miss him? You think to yourself that you can't be, but you know you are. Normally, any thought of him made you feel annoyed, but now you just feel sad and lonely. You truly missed him.

You wanted him to comeback quickly from whatever stupid mission Yaga had sent him on.

As you pranced in the courtyard doing nothing in particular, you saw from the corner of your eyes a familiar silhouette. Shoko Ieiri, your upperclassman and best friend. "Shoko!" You yelled hugging her. She moved back a little as she was startled, but she eventually returned the hug. "What's gotten into you girl?" She says through the cigarette in her mouth. "I missed you, that's all. You two have been away for almost a whole week! Am I not allowed to miss my friend?" You say teasingly.

"Anyways.....wheres Gojo? I thought you both came back today." You barely speak out. It was embarrassing to even think you were worried about that guy. Shoko had a strange look on her face before turning away completely so you couldn't look at her. "He's......in the infirmary." She states. 'Odd. Why would he been there?' you thought. Before you could ask anything else, she continued her sentence, "He got Injured." She says.

You couldn't believe what you heard. He got injured. THE Satoru Gojo. The strongest? Even though normally, you wouldn't believe it until you saw for yourself, plus why would shoko be here if he was injured, wouldn't she be helping heal him? But right now all of your logic was blocked out by a flood of emotions filling you with paranoia.

"H-how bad?" You barely whisper out. Shoko faced you, but looked away, morose looking towards the distance behind you. "Very badly." She said. Not turning her gaze she asked, "But that sounds like good news to you. Since you hate him, right?" She says in a sarcastic tone. She knew you liked him, before either of you guys realized it. She knew, and she was very annoyed right now to have to be egging you on to realize your own feelings. "No it's not! And I do not hate him...." You trailed off.

"I actually missed you guys. Both of you, but mostly him." Shoko looks you in the eyes. "Really?" she asked. You nodded shyly before continuing. "I feel sos stupid for rejecting him before. I should have just said yes! I am an idiot." Shoko looks over your shoulder and nods. "Yeah you are. Maybe you should tell this to Satoru when-" "I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking of him! He invades my thoughts when I am in class, training, and on missions.'' You weakly say. "That's nice an all but you should really save this for later when you see him." She attempts to shut you up, but you don't pick up on the hints. "God I even think of him when I am sleeping. He is sooo annoying!"

"Wouldn't you say I am the man of your dreams then?'' A smug voice calls from behind. You knew whose voice that was, but you still couldn't believe it. ''G-Gojo?'' You say, as you turn around to meet him. He was standing directly behind you, towering over you. Your faced heated up as embarrassment flooded your senses. This is why Shoko kept trying to stop you from continuing. "The one and only." He sweetly says, sticking his tongue out. You feel like fainting from embarrassment.

"How long have you been standing there?" You ask, trying to save your dying dignity. "The whole time." He killed the rest. "Hey it isn't eavesdropping if you speak loud in public." He chuckles. You felt the urge to punch him, but you stopped. Fuck him. "But I can't say I wouldn't have listened in even if it was in private." He smirked. Normally his dumb faces would fill you with irritation, but now it made you happpy and a little shy.

"Well I guess I'll accept your confess-"

"Sorry but no." He interuppted. You stare at him puzzled. "No....?" You quietly said. "No. All transactions are final and you already purchased a no." He said with a laugh. It felt almost cruel how he was so calm. You felt your eyes water up a bit as you turned to leave.

He grabbed your wrist. "Where are you going?" You looked at his sunglasses cover his eyes. "Why do you care? You already rejected me, so let me go in peace." You try to pull your hand away, but he's too strong for you to succed. "I never rejected you. I just won't be the one asking this time." He said pulling you closer to himself. You can't help but feel flustered by this action. "You can confess to me though." He leans over and whispers in your ear.

You couldn't tell if it was because you were so flustered or if you just wanted to get it over with, but you swallowed your pride and began to mentally prepare a confession. "I like you." You whisper. "What? I can't hear you." He says faking a confused face. You knew he heard you cause he was only a ruler away from your face. "I LIKE YOU! There can you leave me alone now?" At those words, he wrapped his arms around you and leaned you backwards. Instinctively, you straddled your arms around his neck to stop the fall. You wanted to day something to him, but before you could, you felt a pair of lips on your own. The kiss was short but felt dizzing and almost hypnotic. As quickly as the kiss started, it ended and he pulled away from you and let go of his grip on you.

"I accept your confession Y/N. But I can't accept your request to leave you alone since we are now dating." He winks at you. You wanted to respond but you felt so dizzy after his assault on your senses.

"Ewww get a room." You both looked back at Shoko who was standing there starting another cigarette. "You two have been talking for so long I finished my cigarette pack. "Ah Shoko don't worry I will keep my promise." "What promise?" You looked between the two. "You know, I'd buy her cigarettes for the next ten years if ahe lied to you about me being injured." When he said that It made you realize he was completely fine, no injuries. Sensing the building anger, Shoko quickly ran away while you turned to chase after her.

"Shoko you witch!!! You set me UP!!!!"

[mysticmellowlove]

a/n; grammarly is set to formal writing for my stupid reports so every time I try and write debauched shit like this it has an aneurysm. i tell you what something possessed me to write this as well. There should be another one later tonight so I can finally be back on schedule :)

warnings; somno, non con, sub male, yan male, gn reader, yandere behaviours, drugging,

word count; 1218

Seth's jaw tightened as he looked down at the computer in disdain. On it the work email of his sugar was open and all of the back and forth they had with their clients was right in front of him. He read through them, his fists tightening at the friendly banter and the not-so-innocent flirting from the clients. Why didn't they understand? Why didn't his sugar understand that he was the only person they needed in their life?

He slammed the computer screen down, half hoping that it would shatter. It didn't but the satisfying sound of it clattering shut made him feel a little bit better. Off to the side of the table was the cup of tea he had made them just before they were going to watch a movie. They hadn't noticed the drug in it, the sweetness of the honey they liked in their drinks hid the bitter taste.

It wasn't what he wanted, he wanted them to be awake but he also needed to calm himself down. The last thing he wanted was to scare them with the extent of his love. This way he would get what he wanted and they would be none the wiser.

He had to have them, had to make sure that their body knew how much pleasure he could give them. Maybe if he conditioned their body to feel arousal around him then they would naturally fall in love with him.

That was why he had to drug them so they'd fall asleep faster, so they'd stay asleep while he did whatever he wanted. The idea made him shiver. He quickly lost interest in his sugar's computer and instead paced towards their prone body on the couch. Netflix was open but nothing was playing as they had fallen asleep before they could pick anything, he grabbed the remote from their hand and turned it off allowing the room to be lit only by the lamp in the corner.

It was the perfect romantic atmosphere, it was a shame that they wouldn't be able to experience it. He looked down at them, if only they'd relax more. Why did they have to work all the time? Why couldn't they just let him provide for them?

Gently he let his body rest on their lap, his leg thrown over them as he leant over their body. His hands trailed up their arm, raising goosebumps on their skin as he watched the small reactions their body had to him. Lovingly he caressed their face, letting his lips slot over their own, forcing his tongue into their mouth. He moaned at the feeling of being close to them like this, imagining what they'd be saying if they knew what he was doing.

He knew that his sugar could be a little nasty sometimes but that's what he loved about them. The world had been so cruel to them, it was time he made it all better. He pulled his lips back and watched as the string of saliva extended between them.

He couldn't wait any longer, he'd been pent up today and they'd spent the whole day working. He remembered the way they brushed him off before forcing him to sit on their lap as they worked, he thought he had them right where he wanted them but then.... they didn't give in. It made him so mad but he would never blame them.

He shuffled downwards and pulled their pants from their body, taking in the sight of their wet underwear. His eyes widened, so their body already knew who it belonged to. His face spread into a grin, he was halfway there then...

Excitedly he pulled his own pants off and slowly eased his fingers into his ass, attempting to open himself up to take them more efficiently. They were still prepped from when he was sitting on their lap, when they had insisted that he cockwarm them while they worked.

Soon after he started he decided that the pleasurable burn of their cock stretching him out would be better.

He needed their body to be accustomed to him but he also wanted his to do the same, to be moulded perfectly to them and their body. Ruined so no one else would make him feel as good, no one would even get the chance anyway but the thought was too hot to discard

Eagerly he let their cock penetrate him, sink into him. His mouth dropped open as he tried to muffle his moan, he was still a little sensitive from before. His hands shook as he braced them on the couch, now suddenly wary about waking them up. He had been assured that the drug would work like a charm but he wanted to be sure.

He loved them, so much... but he also wanted to seem dependable. If they saw him act like such a slut then what would they think of him? To be so fully undone by the slightest touch of their cock inside him, to basically be drooling at the thought of them viciously taking him in any way they wanted. How could he provide for them if he was always weak at the knees at the thought of their skin, their breath, their kisses... their mere presence.

Pathetic, he was simply pathetic and yet he loved it. Being turned into some whore by the simplest touch, into a dumb slut by their girthy cock. A slave to the pleasure they gave him.

These thoughts circulated in his head as he bounced up and down on them, his lip caught in between his teeth as he tried to muffle his sounds. Even the ache in his legs wouldn't stop him from fully exploring them. His hands left the couch and roamed over their skin, under their shirt, over their hard nipples. Their body was reacting to him, it knew who he was and how good he made it feel.

"Come on, just.... just love me already." He cried out as he crashed his hips into them, no longer caring about the sounds he was making or the rough pace he was subjecting himself and them to. Their hips would bruise, a haughty reminder of his sin. What would they do when they found out? Would they punish him, would they not care, would they give in and let him finally take care of their every whim?

Would they leave him?

His eyes narrowed as he rolled his hips into them, keeping their cock in as deep as it would go inside him. An ache was forming in his legs and his prostate as he forcefully made them abuse it repeatedly. The feeling of them deep inside him made him cum, spurts of liquid covered both his and their skin as he kissed their neck hotly, licking and biting a mark into them.

They couldn't leave him, he loved them too much, he wouldn't allow it, they'd be his forever and ever and ever. He would make sure of it. No matter what he had to do he would do it. Anything for them, anything to make sure they stayed together forever.

[awellboiledicicle]

Mo the Human is setting some people up for deep confusion, expressly because I'm clearing out my storage bins.

Specifically, I had several gemstones and i didn't want to just sell them bc I knew people like getting their starstone. So I gave one to Chayne, Najuma, Reth and Hassain.

Najuma got all hyped and was like "aw yeah I collect these this is great" and Chayne was just honored they thought to gift him something so rare and valuable.

So when Mo trots up to Reth at 6am and hands him a citrine, they have a certain level of expected reaction. Like they assume at worst he gets awkward about being given a thing. Best case they get a hi five.

They do not expect him to slowly look between the rock in their outstretched palm and their face with a deeply baffled expression before sliding into his chatty and charming persona. He takes it and thanks them, before clearing his throat and scurrying off.

Oh well, maybe he's got stuff to do. Is their assumption as they trot off to go find Hassain.

Cut to Reth around a corner trying to fucking divine what in the goddamn they meant by giving him his starstone, cut and polished, when their interaction level so far as been helping him with illegal things and chatting about cooking when they aren't finding ingredients.... that he specifically asked for. Wait. Were they just being friendly? Was this how they flirt?? Was his banter being taken very seriously and they're doubling down like this because they dont know how majiri do things? They didn't seem nervous he'd reject it, so if it was flirting they felt confident enough that he'd be into it. Or that could point to it literally just meaning they found it and thought of him. Which makes him feel a whole different but related series of things.

He comments about it to Tish next he sees her and she proceeds to fulfill her sibling quota of teasing him. Half because aw and half because "No, they're also fire type. If they were flirting they'd probably just tell you. They just found something nice and wanted to share."

Jump cut to Hassain flatly asking why they're trying to give him his starstone. They raise an eyebrow.

"It's your er star thing, yeah? I found it a while ago, but when I saw it in storage last night i remembered you mentioning it. So i wanted you to have it instead of me just selling it." They shrugged. "If you don't want it--"

"No, I will accept the gift. It is.. very kind of you to offer." He tucks it into a pouch and sizes them up for a second. Amusement flashes over his features just slow enough for them to catch before he shakes his head. "Do humans make a habit of gifting gems to people?"

Well now they felt like he was, in his own way, trying not to laugh at them. Which was an intriguing enough proposition that they set aside the option that they'd just fucked up. Slowly, they tilted their head and leaned sideways to get a better look at his face-- a task made more difficult by his instinctive shifting around to be able to look at their face without actually facing them.

"Yeah? Why?" More leaning as he shook his head at them. "Are shiny rocks rude? Is there a shiny rock day where they're allowed? What?"

His lips pressed into a line.

"What was your goal, giving me this?"

"To... give you a nice rock? Because after the temple I kinda assumed we were some kinda friends?" They straightened up and crossed their arms. "To make you happy, if you wanna get abstract I guess?"

"I see." He sighed, nodding to himself. He looked a bit too amused to be mad at them, so they were assuming they just messed up a little bit. At least it seemed to be in a funny way. He took a deep breath. "Generally, if someone goes through the trouble of finding your starstone, they're hoping for a specific form of response."

He waved his hand, bidding them to finish the line of reasoning so he didn't have to. They unfortunately did, eyes unfocusing for a second. Then they blinked and a look of mortification took them over.

"Hassain, tell me: scale of 'I like you as a person' to asking to fuck, where is what I just did?"

"That is a ridiculous scale."

Their eyes widened and they took a step closer, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could back away. He wasn't particularly motivated to, because he sensed no danger to it, but still. Their grip tightened as he tried to lean a bit back, though. If they didn't look so suddenly concerned, he'd have been more upset.

"Hassain, I have given several people rocks and I need to know if i just came across as the weirdo that hits on people with no context. Hassain, please." A slight pressure that hes was reasonably sure was them trying to shake him slightly. "I gave *Najuma* a quartz because she said she liked them, Hassain!"

"I... did not mean to imply that's what it always meant. Gifts are.. just what friends and neighbors do." He gave their arm an awkward pat as they processed his words and seemed to relax a touch. Enough to let him go, anyway. "My point was more... imagine you wanted chocolate. And you wanted to share the chocolate, because you bought more than you could eat. If you sat down in the tavern and asked if anyone wanted some, it would have no special meaning. Now imagine you had just so happened to make the same offer, but you had managed to catch someone alone when you offer the chocolate."

They pinched the bridge of their nose.

"Context."

"Yes."

"In my defense, how the fuck was I supposed to know that?" A sigh as they rubbed their face. "Well, thanks for telling me. I promise that if the day comes where I want to flirt with you, I will flat say so."

This earned another glint of amusement and a raised eyebrow.

"I assume your attempts would involve more rocks."

A snort.

"Nah, I'd just drop a solid hundred chaapa hide at your feet and ask if you'd like a coat made from them."

"That.... would be a large coat."

"Yes. But more importantly, you would have reserves for bedding and leather working and rugs. Or more coats." They held up a finger. "Which means I could theoretically wear them later."

"And why," he raised an eyebrow. "Would you be wearing my clothes?"

Their expression got suddenly very serious, if not a little grave.

"If I decided to flirt with you, it would be because I decided to love you romantically and that would mean sharing our things as we shared a life together." They nodded to themselves. "Which would mean I get to wear your coat. Or slippers."

"Ah"

After this the conversation was cut off by a Proudhorn teleporting through and distracting the both of them.

[callm3-q]

Tell the king, I dare you darling~

Bad is a little thief, and Ètoiles is a classic above average night and shining armor.

In the kingdom of Sol, run by Tubbo, and princess Sunny. When Bad, the best thief of the country quesadilla, steals something, Ètoiles has to deal with it, but, how? Maybe violence isn’t always the answer, maybe it’s Newley found love.

By the request of a lovely Anon from my Tumblr page

[Thief Bad]

[Night Etoiles]

Etoiles!

Yes, my liege

You must go deal with the pesky thief that keeps stealing from the castle grounds

Of course your majesty, if I may ask, what have they stolen?

Mostly furniture, how does one person sneak out so much furniture unnoticed?!

Ah, I will deal with this as soon as possible my liege

Thank you Etoiles

My pleasure

...

…

…

Sol Kingdom, Midnight[12 PM]

Etoiles was standing guard of the front entrance, in hopes of catching the thief in their tracks. He had tried almost all other entrances during the previous nights, most being unless attempts to catch the unknown thief.

…

He was standing guard, still, as instructed, when he heard someone.

Hello! -Bad stated as he used his grappling squawk to dangle upside-down from the roof, inches away from Etoiles face.

Etoiles couldn’t get any words out, all he could do was stair. 

I examined the possible thief in front of me, his hair was long, it was black at the top, then it faded to blond near the ends. He had a sort of cloak on, completely useless in covering anything in the position he was in. He was wearing what looked to be a… Well, sort of like a one-piece swimsuit, but way tighter. 

He looked strong, not too strong though, I could definitely beat him.

A-Are you the one who’s been stealing all the furniture?

Welllll, I guess you could say that if you really wanted to. I’d say its more, on the liberating side of things.

are you just turning yourself in?

I got bored of never being caught, so I just thought I would tease ya a bit

I could just report you to the king right now

Tell the king, I dare you darling~

His voice echoed through the castle walls, it was beautiful. His voice carried deep, reverberating of the walls in a low, seductive growl.

…-Etoiles paused as he felt his face getting red, hidden by the mask he always wears. 

Aww, quiet now aren’t ya~ That’s one way to shut someone up, anyways, back to the main topic. A little friendly banter never hurt anyone love~

Well mon chéri, how can you be so sure I will abide, and not tell the king that you were here

tell me, darling, would you do that? Hmm? -Bad said, now standing on the floor, cupping Etoiles face with his hand.

It’s my sworn duty to follow all orders given to me by his majesty, if I do not then it would break my oath to the king

Well I wouldn’t want to stay much longer then -Bad paused as he shot his grappling squawk, sticking it to the roof- See you tomorrow darling, if you find me, that is~ 

And just like that, he was gone. Etoiles felt his face heat up even more, he looked at the ground. He was mad at himself, how could he let this happen… How could he let that thief get away… 

He was right there…He wasn’t even trying to get away! He was literally just dangling right in front of my fucking nose…

Etoiles took off his mask, and moved his some-what ‘long’ hair out of his face.

It wasn’t too long, but it could be considered long to most male’s on the castle ground. But in his defense he hasn’t had the time to get a proper haircut in a while.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, it wasn’t even hot in the castle. It was cold, a little too cold for comfort. He let his hair fall back onto his face with a sigh, a sigh of disappointment. He couldn’t tell for what the disappointment was for, the fact that he didn’t catch the pesky thief that was right there, or… The fact that said thief left so soon…

5:30 AM[Early Morning]

Etoiles!

Y-Yes… my liege

Did you catch that thief yet

N-No your majesty… I am doing my best your highness…

Catch them soon Etoiles

Yes sir…

10:00 PM

Etoiles was standing guard, the same place as the night before.

‘If you find me, that is’

Etoiles contemplated going to look for the thief, he wanted to, but doing so would mean leaving his position. Which he would consider a highly frowned upon thing to do… Ah fuck it, it would be worth it wouldn’t it? Getting to see- Catch, the thief.

So Etoiles left his assigned position and went to look for the thief, looking through every hallway and corridor.

Eventually he found the thief, sitting upside down with his head dangling off the front of the couch.

Oh! You actually came to find me? If I had known you we’re actually coming I would have found a better spot -Bad stated, getting off of the couch

Eh- Yeah… -Etoiles could already feel his face heating up, much to his dismay, he hadn’t even done anything… - Uhm… I-I was wondering if I could get your name, I won’t tell the king, you have my word

…Ok, I’m trusting you… You can call me Bad

Bad, ok. My name is Etoiles

Etoiles… That’s a really pretty name

T-thank you… -Etoiles felt his face heating up more, he wasn’t used to getting complimented

It’s my pleasure, just stating the truth, a beautiful name for a absolutely stunning man~

Bad took a couple steps closer to Etoiles, grabbing his forearm gently.

‘I can’t take this anymore… He’s teasing me a purpose isn’t he! Whatever… what matters right now, is that he is right in front of me, I can do whatever I want.’

Etoiles grabbed Bad by his waist, quickly pulling him into a long, drawn out kiss. Bad quickly reciprocated, he wanted this to happen, didn’t he.

Etoiles pulled away, still holding Bad close.

Are you gonna go and lock me away now -Bad stated, out of breath- I’m right here, you could just lock me up right now

Why would I do that -Etoiles said, in a low hum

I thought that was what you wanted to do

I never intended on locking you away, Mon chéri -Etoiles whispered, pulling Bad into another kiss.

[yaltghoul]

I just started reading Gregory's book. I'm only 2 chapters in, but I'm HOPEFUL that this pairing will not be problematic like pairings in past books. No spoilers, please.

My so-far list from "loved them" to "will hit at least one of you WWE style with a folding chair if I could magically jump onto a book" is below. BOOK RELATIONSHIPS NOT SHOW RELATIONSHIPS

There are probably unpopular opinions, but I'm open to friendly discourse. Especially if I misread a situation, by all means tell me your opinion.

BOOKS 1-6 SPOILERS BELOW

Eloise & Phillip - he had some trauma to deal with, and by God, he did. But the worst he did was hide from his wife and kids to tend to his greenhouse because he was scared of turning into an abusive monster like his dad. But Eloise helping him work through that, and him TRYING? That's what we want to see in a man.

Colin & Penelope - Colin has anger issues, but overall, it's a good pairing. I cannot stress enough that I dislike how he treated Penelope when he found out she was Whistledown, how he let his jealousy turn to anger, how he belittled her and tried to make decisions for her. But. He did ultimately admit to his jealousy, and gave a public declaration of support and love for her.

Hyacinth & Garith - he seduced her to make sure she was forced to marry him, which is icky, but it was a fully consensual first time, so I guess it's not as bad as it could have been? I like their banter and how their relationship unfolds.

Anthony & Kate - trauma. When he realized that he loved Kate and she might love him back he fucking ran away. Bitch ass coward. But he did smarten up, and the rest of the series he is the pinnacle of love and spousal devotion on which bis other siblings look up to. I know people say he forced her to have sex on their wedding night, but when I read it, it was more "reassured her and got her in the mood".

Francesca & Michael - another "seduce you into marrying me" but they weren't already engaged, and make it a 3+ week long fucking every day while she says "no I won't marry you" and he literally says "then I'll seduce you until you're pregnant and forced to marry me" like what?!

Benedict & Sophie - he spends the whole book trying to make her his mistress and getting mad when she won't. The when he DOES seduce her and she says "cool yeah I regret that and won't be your mistress" he flies off the handle. He apologizes afterwards, but what the fuck?

Daphne & Simon - she literally rapes him. Fuck that shit.

[auntie-venom]

Will of Fate

Chapter Eight

Fandom: Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Story Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Characters: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Summary: There hasn’t been an unidentified spacecraft in the stratosphere of Arkadia in over two decades, let alone three in one day. Those skilled or mad enough to venture into the Chaos unguided were few and far between. That means no one has ever made it to Arkadia who wasn’t intending to be here.

Until today.

or

Din Djarin finds an unmapped planet filled with beings who have the same powers as the Child, but know nothing of the force or the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: A trip to the prefecture and the mechanic

Word Count - 3,870

Chapter Warnings: None

Will of Fate Masterlist

Read on Ao3

A/N: Hey y’all, sorry for the long wait. We had family and friends visiting from our home country and hosting duty prevented me from sitting down at the computer and doing edits. I was able to continue writing on my phone so at least progress is being made even if y’all can’t see it yet. I also caught a case of Miguel O’Hara brain rot for a bit, so I was distracted for a few weeks with that. 

This chapter is dedicated to the Paris prefecture: fuck you, very much.

Chapter eight

Din can admit with full honesty that his well of patience is very deep. He has waited for bounties to appear while maintaining uncomfortable positions for hours. He has surveilled a safe house for over a week from a tree canopy to confirm a potential lead to a target. He has begrudgingly walked at the child’s pace for two kilometers when the kid refused, by a screeching tantrum, to be carried. But the verbal gymnastics of politics is something he has no patience for and he has to actively fight down the itch for violence.

The sterile prefecture was staffed with dour looking people doing the work with the least amount of effort in order to get through the mass of civilians who were just trying to file the right paperwork. Every person who goes up to a staff member is greeted with pursed lips and a look down the nose full of disdain.

It was even directed towards Eziriel who claimed in the landspeeder that she had dressed to her station with a draping blushing gold jumpsuit and a long caped navy blazer in hopes to possibly make the bureaucratic hoops easier to jump through, but it was apparently a useless tactic. It didn’t matter if the civilian was in rags or glittering jewels, they were a mere nuisance to everyone who worked there.

Din was glad to have the woman on his side, but even her disarming banter and warm smiles could not penetrate the lifeless pointy-eared Arkadian and his protocol droid who were in charge of Din’s case. He watches as Eziriel slips into a more diplomatic facade once she realizes her usual friendly route wasn’t going to get the results she wanted and he observes something he hasn’t seen in her before. True irritation.

Even in the handful of days he’s been around Eziriel, Din feels like he has a pretty good read on her. She is one of those who uses teasing humor to soften reality but also has the tendency to use it as a shield to deflect from true vulnerability. He doesn’t think many notice the deflection since she is always open and honest about any topic, but seeing the pensive look that came across her face when he asked why she was willing to hide things from her government for him, it suddenly registered that he has seen that look on her a handful of times previously: when she admitted to finding the sabotaging item and her worry of it; when he pushed beyond her deflection and to get her to accept his genuine thanks with the Jedi research; and when she admitted to him what the oath truly entailed. All these little vulnerable moments that she tried to hide with witty words finally came into focus once Din recognized the pattern, but the look she is currently presenting is none of the ones he has seen before.

She is expressive to a fault, so when all of her expressions drain from her face he takes note. He focuses in on the new tightness in the corner of her eyes while she forces a saccharine smile when the bored staff member, once again, sends her away with a wave of his hand at her questioning why they needed to fill out a physical form when they’ve already filled out the digital one. He’s seen her disguise her flustering amusement with faux irritation, but there was a true kindling of rage in her eyes when she filled out a handwritten physical copy of the same form she painstakingly filled out the night before. Seeing her fume and grumble under her breath was what caused Din to stop pacing like a caged beast and shift all his focus on observing her for the rest of the visa process.

He didn’t know if he fully liked the blazing fury that radiates off her ever-smiling facade, but admittedly, a dark part of him enjoys that focused rage. He will concede that he did miss the warm mischief her eyes usually held that was lost in favor of icy concentration, but when the third round of interviews gets too intrusive he watches as her normally friendly banter turns into scathing definitive statements that defends his clan of two and a fire burns in his gut.

He acknowledged when his concussion cleared that Eziriel is an objectively attractive woman. With her clever brain, witty tongue, and kind hands he could see how easily someone could be enchanted by her, but he was not one to be drawn into amorous attachments outside of carnal stress relief. Eziriel was meant to be a distant star in his time with her. Something in the dark night sky of his life that was a bright guiding beacon when he was thrown from his path; a star that shined so beautifully that he could admire from a distance in his memory when he was back on his trek and no longer lost; an astronomical body not meant for him to get any closer in exploration.

But then she puts on a vicious smile and fierce tone and defends his culture to the case officer when he tries to claim that they could not proceed without facial recognition, names, or at the very least a decrypted chain code, even though Arkadia doesn’t even use them. She was prepared for that and brings up a hundred year’s worth of data that held passage clearance case files where encrypted chain codes or alternate identifiers were used to adhere to culture differences, some of which were Mandalorian files Din noted.

That small shining star’s gravitational pull dragged him in to witness the might of its white-hot plasma and he doesn’t know if he has the strength to look away.

Kriff.

He nearly misses the resolution to their argument but is focused back at the defeated sigh of the case officer. He grumbles that doing it her way would take hours of paperwork, as if it hasn’t already taken hours already, and that it could be weeks before getting any approval.

“I am terribly sorry that you must do the bare minimum of your job description. My deepest condolences,” she says with that venomous inflection and that sickening sweet smile. “Here is an approval to move their case to the top of the stack at every turn. King Amarian’s royal seal and everything.”

She pulls a datapad out of her bag to add to the pile of other datapads and paperwork. Din didn’t need to be able to magically read emotions to see that the case officer is frustrated, regardless of how well he was trying to hide it. The case officer begrudgingly takes a hand and vocal print of Din as proof of identity. He then has his protocol droid collect everything and commands them back to the waiting room in order to wait for the temporary visas.

After a total of six hours they are finally walking back to where she parked the landspeeder. She tugs her blazer off as Din settles the kid into the back seat. As soon as she plants herself in the pilot seat and the doors close she buries her face into her blazer and lets out a ragged scream, startling the child and Din both. He feels amusement pull at his mouth when she pulls her head up and she is all wild copper curls and frazzled red faced, gone was the smiling stoic facade she has been presenting in the prefecture.

“Maker’s hairy balls,” she says and Din’s almost smile grows at the colorful language she has been holding back for hours. “I’ve always heard it was bad, that they always started every interaction with ‘it’s not possible’, but kriffing hell!” She slumps her form deep into the seat and rests her head against the headrest taking a moment to close her eyes.

“Thank the stars I had Princess Ziri on my side,” he quips and catches the corner of her lip quirk up at her nickname. Her head lolls to face him as the icy fire drains from her eyes and mirth starts to refill them once again, and it makes his chest alight with an ember of satisfaction to cause that reaction.

“Well, Princess Ziri is starving and so is the little laddie,” she says, sitting straight once more and glancing over her shoulder to smile at the kid in his little safety seat before patting Din on the unarmored part of his arm and pointing at his helmet. “I’d make you buy me a drink after all that bantha shit, but since I am oathbound to your wellbeing I can’t, in good conscience, make you pay. So let’s say you owe me a drink once my oath is fulfilled.”

“Done,” he says with a single nod of his head as she gives him a true smile filled with that teasing kindness that he has gotten used to in the last four days and begins pulling out of the parking garage. He doesn’t even bother to ask where she is taking them, he just sits and listens to her talk to his ward about all the types of desserts the restaurant she plans to take them has.

════════════════════════════════════

The small cozy restaurant at the edge of the city wasn’t too busy when they show up between the lunch and dinner rush, but the middle-aged owner makes it a point to exchange pleasantries with Eziriel and fondly talk to the child in between serving other tables. Din spends the lunch watching the child be spoiled by Eziriel who gives the boy a piece of each of the deserts she could get a sample of before Din has to stop her which earns him a pout from the pair. At the end of the meal Eziriel insists on a to-go bag of food and shoves it into Din’s arms before he could protest, claiming that if he can take a moment to eat he should.

Once they are back in the landspeeder she takes them out of the city and starts coasting next to the large lake heading towards the starport on the opposite end. With the gentle stringed music she had put on the kid is nearly instantly asleep and Din takes that quiet moment to ask a question he has been curious about for a few days.

“What would have happened if I refused to apply for the planetary visa?” he keeps his voice low enough not to wake the child and he watches her face cringe at the question.

“Then we would have probably had to detain you two,” she admits with a lowered voice.

“‘We’? You would have tried to detain me?” Din says with amusement at the mere thought of her small frame trying to take him in.

“No, no, no, ‘we’ as in Arkadia, not me personally. If you were not cooperative or receptive to my help I’d have been forced to call the Enforcers in,” she explains and from the few times he’s heard the word he assumes that the Enforcers are Arkadia’s military. “It would have been nothing personal, but the location of Arkadia must remain hidden from anyone who can’t be trusted. I hope you understand.”

“I’m not offended that you would have protected your people,” he replies honestly. “I am mildly surprised you didn’t call your military when I pointed my blaster at you, being royalty and all.”

“Twice,” she amends with a smirk.

“Twice,” he agrees at the number of times he’s drawn his blaster on her.

“Well, you started off pointing your blaster at me through your ship’s viewscreen. So that wasn’t a big threat.” Her smirk grows at the memory.

“I had a head injury,” Din grumbles and she chuckles at him.

“I, for one, am glad you were eventually agreeable and proved yourself trustworthy enough for me not to call the Enforcers, despite your ornery introduction,” she gives him that sincere look once again as they fall back into a comfortable silence with some soft melodic music coming from the speeder’s comms accompanying their trip around the lake.

After a peaceful drive through the wooded lakeside they arrive at an industrial part of the city where the starport was the primary focus of the area. Most of the surrounding buildings were either private docking bays or businesses focused on space travel and maintenance.

As she pilots the landspeeder through the maze of buildings Eziriel gasps and points to a small fleet of sleek rose gold starfighters docked on an upper platform of the starport and excitedly tells Din about how a prototype device she has been developing for the past year was being tested on them. When he asks about the prototype he takes in how she perks up and starts happily rambling to him about how the device she invented conserves power and how quickly it can transfer that power to systems that need it, ultimately creating a more reactive user interface than ever before, which results in the ship’s systems to function at a higher rate. It was honestly a rather mundane topic that Din barely kept up with, but the way her eyes light up when she explains the device as if it were the most innovative creation in centuries gives Din an insight of how passionately she feels towards her work.

By the time she pulls them into a public garage Din has learned more about electrical relays than he ever cared about knowing. He tries his best to collect the kid from his safety seat and place him in his pram without waking him and is moderately successful, provoking only a few grumpy grunts from the child before falling back asleep. She leads them out of the garage and down the cobbled street pointing out shops that could be useful if he needed to restock his ship if he were to visit again and when she mentions that it causes him to mentally pause.

He has not really considered coming back since he’s primarily been focused on leaving. Arkadia seems like a lovely, if not privileged, planet. It would be wise to use the passage visa to a planet that was uncharted and overly secure. It would ultimately be a great place to lie low if they needed to avoid the Empire remnants in his search for the Jedi. Not to mention Eziriel mentioned something about Mandalorians in the prefecture, maybe there is a covert here that he could get in contact with. The Armorer told him to search out Mandalorian in his hunt for the Jedi, but he thought his bounty hunter skills were enough to find a trail to them without aid. Din sighs at his hubris and makes a note to ask Eziriel about the Mandalorian history here when they are alone again.

After a few turns and a push through some young rowdy pilots who start to jeer at Eziriel before quickly holding their tongue once they see his broad figure behind her, she leads them to a shop front. The front of the building looks like it was once very modern, but age and time made it stick out against the newer buildings. The windows and pathways are filled with large potted plants that climb up the walls in a verdant maze, except for a large square portion of the vines that is neatly cut away to show the building’s red facade that has the name “Torbin’s'' freshly painted in a shiny gold script. Following Eziriel through the door they are greeted by a smiling middle-aged Nautolan woman seated behind an organized desk dressed in a flowing floral dress that compliments her blue skin.

“Bless the stars, look at you dressed all pretty! Not a single grease stain or burn mark in sight! Trying to impress your new Mandalorian?” the woman says with waggling eyebrows towards Eziriel.

“Yes. I’ve been told unblemished clothes are the way to court a Mandalorian out of their armor and into my bed. You figured me out, Filia,” Eziriel quips with an overly serious tone and a smirk. Filia throws her head back in a laugh causing the golden jewelry wrapped around her head tentacles to jingle noisily. She pulls Eziriel into a brief hug before holding her out at arms length.

“He should be so lucky,” she winks at Dins and hooks Eziriel’s arm into her own to guide her through the waiting room that they had first entered into. Filia leads them through a hallway with shelves cluttered with labeled ship parts as she regales Eziriel with her daughter’s recent accomplishments in some sort of medical academy.

Opening the backdoor a wide open workspace with three attached hangers comes into view. The tall overhead hangar door was retracted and two smaller towing vessels sat in the center of the workspace while a crew of three Arkadians were inspecting the mounted tractor beams. A green skinned Nautolan man stood with a datapad and was giving out instructions to his crew. He turns when he hears Filia call and makes his way over to them after issuing a final command to his crew.

“You must be the owner of that downed antique in Ga’ladora’s Canyon,” the man says with a grin and holds out a hand for Din to shake. “I am Torbin Dresden.”

“She’s old, but faithful,” Din responds, shaking his hand firmly before resting it on his belt. “Eziriel has told me you are the best mechanic to get the Razor Crest back in the sky.”

“Bah,” he says, swatting his hand in the air dismissively. “She just says ‘cause I let her tinker with the electronics of ships I’m working on when she needs to clear her head. But I will use everything in my skill set to get your ship up and running.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Din nods in thanks.

“I will say, with the scans that Eziriel sent me of how it is wedged in the canyon, it might take us longer than usual with extraction,” Torbin informs them with a slight grimace. “So it might be a few days before it even gets to the shop, but I can comm you when it is if you’d like to retrieve anything from it. Or if you’d like to amend any of Eziriel’s plans for the ship.”

Din cocks his head before slowly turning it down towards Eziriel. “Eziriel’s plans?” He asks with a cool voice trying to rein in the temper he feels brewing at the audacity of the woman making calls for his ship. At the furrow of her brow he assumes she feels that irritation.

“Cool your jets, Lori. I just sent him the original blueprint of a ST-70 Assault Ship,” she says with a placating wave of her hand. “I was going to have him use better quality material and upgrade a few things if needed, but was going to run that by you first.” Din feels his anger recede at that. She wasn’t trying to make decisions for him, she was just trying to help by giving the mechanic the blueprint in advance so he could better prepare.

“Thank you, but the upgrades are not necessary. I don’t have the spare credits for excessive spending,” he says to her before glancing at Torbin. “Just get it hyperspace-worthy.”

“Mando, this is coming out of my pocket.” He opens his mouth to argue how he doesn’t need charity when he sees her with a serious expression, eyes pleading with him. “Your safety is my priority. That includes a high-functioning ship that can manage the wilds of space,” she says slowly with deliberate emphasized beats.

Din stares at her earnest face while he has an internal debate. He detests being in debt to someone, it hangs around his neck like an invisible collar with a chain that yanks him at the most inconvenient time. People have abused the favors he’s owed them when he was younger and he has strived to avoid becoming indebted ever since. Being under anyone’s thumb repulses Din down to his bones.

However, Eziriel explained the night before the importance of her binding herself to him and the vow she made for his safety. She implied that not letting her fulfill that vow would ultimately hurt her and that it was a very sacred thing that her culture maintains, which held no ties or expectations on his end. It reminds Din of a Wookiee life debt, which is seen just as seriously when pledged. Sure, she is bending the verbiage to go beyond what he deems necessary, but her generosity and the kindness behind it sways Din to trust her that much more.

“Torbin is giving me a great deal because of the free work he gets out of me, every single decision will be approved by you, and I will even do all the electrical labor so you don’t have feel like you are draining my bank dry,” she negotiates before Din has a chance to respond. She leans in and elbows him playfully and in a dramatic whisper says, “Not that you could, royal coffers and all that.”

“Okay,” he eventually responds in a soft voice and watches her body melt into relief. “I don’t like being indebted to people.”

“Well good thing you won’t owe me anything,” she says with an equally soft voice.

“Feeling indebted to people is nearly as bad,” he admits.

“Well, maybe I can find you things to do for me to relieve that burden,” she says with a growing smirk. “You’re good with kids, maybe cover my biweekly childminding gig?”

Din releases a small exhale of amusement and turns to where Torbin and Filia had drifted away during his and Eziriel’s intense conversation. Din waves them over and thanks them for the work they are going to put into the ship while Eziriel fills out the datapad Torbin hands to her.

The rest of the conversation of repair planning goes smoothly and Din is only momentarily taken aback when he witnesses Torbin casually float the filled out datapad to his crew with a barely there wave of his hand while making a friendly dig at Eziriel. It makes him realize that it will take more than a day surrounded by the magic wielding citizens of Arkadia for Din to get used to the casualness of their powers. The thought of getting used to the everyday power usage of the people brings up his previous internal debate on coming back to this planet and using it as a refuge.

Could he feel secure enough to hide away here if necessary? Possibly, he thinks as he watches that rose gold patrol squadron take off from the starport while they walk back to the landspeeder; Eziriel pointing to them and chatting away to the now-awake toddler.

Would he come back to this planet even if he didn’t need to use it as a safe place to lay low? Din looks over at the child who pats Eziriel’s face while joining her in pointing at the starfighters and he pushes down the chest-warming simmering thought of yes before continuing to follow the woman back to the landspeeder.

<<  Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine >>

[thefinalwitness]

l'aiha and thancred get a nice bit of their own healing done in shb too, regarding each other. that and post-heavensward when they find out what happened to minfilia are the two instances where they engage one another, which they don't do almost at all otherwise because of the ARR ifrit thing. (l'aiha's mad he left her alone and thancred's mad HE left her alone) they don't dislike each other by the end of ARR but they really can't breach this first, horrific impression.

and even in hw patches they don't really talk TO each other. they sense each other's deepening jadedness and mourning, and they speak up in each other's defense several times, but they still can't really FACE each other. but they see themselves in each other, and they both wish someone would understand how much pain they're in. so l'aiha speaks up in thancred's defense with emmanellain, and they both do so in a few other scenes as well throughout hw patches and stb.

but the ironic thing about shb is they're NOT relating to each other this time, and it causes them to engage for the first time in 4 (or 9 in thancred's case) years, but it's not friendly. l'aiha is furious about how thancred handles ryne, and thancred is furious about how l'aiha handles emet-selch. their animosity grows worse and worse until, finally...

they both realize how fucking wrong they were. thancred about ryne, l'aiha about emet-selch. and neither of them take any satisfaction out of the other's moment of revelation. nobody's happy. they expected even a LITTLE relief, and it's there, but it's dull compared to just how overwhelmingly SAD they are for each other.

and i think that's when they both figure out they've ALWAYS been sad for each other. l'aiha was mad about ryne in part because thancred was denying himself healing. thancred was mad about emet-selch because he was scared he'd hurt l'aiha. even after ARR, when they're not upset about ifrit anymore but keep their distance from one another, it's out of concern FOR EACH OTHER.

thancred believes l'aiha hates him because he left her with ifrit. l'aiha believes she's responsible for the bad mental state that led thancred to being possessed by lahabrea. they think they're only capable of hurting each other, and stay away because they don't WANT to do that.

and after shb, after ryne and emet-selch, they can't stand to watch the other still, still hurting after all this time. they're not friends, exactly, but they remind me of like... two people who found each other in rehab. their relationship is intrinsically built up with a desire to see the other overcome their tragedies and heal; they have seen each other's souls in a way you only really do when you've both crawled out of hell together. they can do the periodic friendly banter throughout endwalker. they scold the SHIT out of each other about their martyrdom in ultima thule (thancred deleting himself, l'aiha sending the scions away from the endsinger). it's still kind of hostile when even just a little stress sparks, but they know now it comes from a place of wanting the other to MAKE IT. to LIVE.

and i'm just. feelings about them. they're not friends but they're deeply important to each other. and maybe, slowly, in seeing how angry they get when the other undermines themselves, MAYBE one day they'll realize they can stop doing it to themselves. they can stop making it worse in this delusional hope that it will save someone else. they can realize they're being, for each other, what they need themselves. ough. they're like soldiers who met in war and they're home now and what they have is utterly untranslatable into words. it's unspeakable. it's love and anger and kinship and hatred and they will never untangle their souls from one another no matter how good or bad it gets. they're fused like metals in a forge.

[sugar-petals]

Måneskin Reaction :: You Flirt With Them ❤️

# word count. 2k 

♡ note. hello, bisexuals and associates!!! happy pride month. you’ve given so much love to my ‚gettin‘ frisky w/ måneskin' 18+ scenario y’all are amazing. so, i’m back back back again 👀 for more fun stuff, this time with some world-building. enjoy!

TAGS/WARNINGS. ⚠️ ot4 imagines x gn!reader, suggestive, humor, cursing, innuendo, sex toy mention, ass jokes, reader’s dirty mouth, flirting at work, brief violence/alcohol/party drugs mention, almost-accident, damiano’s steamy gnc outfit

read it on ao3

thomas | Things start out in a literal fleeting heartbeat. You’re kind of exhausted from the concert high, but also full of guitar solo-induced adrenaline. Lord knows how you got a ticket for the very front. Afraid to be a little overzealous and attention-grabbing, you still made sure the band did not think the festival crowd was lame. Singing louder than three people at once hopefully makes a difference. So that’s that, and the setlist was great, anyway. Now, the stage is almost entirely empty, people rush to drink water. And: They want to see Metallica playing it up on a different stage. They’re already blasting a Queen song to warm up and gather the audience. Over here, the first row of course doesn’t dissolve that fast. Actually, you’re not mad being stuck here. You’re kind of witnessing staff tidying some cables right in front of you, and your band crush stringing up his guitar in real time. Thomas, who else. Fiddling with his instrument, he’s kind of preoccupied. Man, he’s too cute. You love his tousled hair and cravat. Enter Sandman is playing from the other direction, so more and more people around you start to leave. How you care, you just keep your head turned to the Måneskin stage hoping there’s a chance to interact. But watch what happens next — oh boy.

After Thomas — in full glam gear, that is — rattles down head first from the stage stairs since his heels got caught, but thankfully grabs hold of your arm: Well. Now you do have a chance to chat him up. Sort of like a little meet and greet. Okay, it’s kind of improvised and casual. You saved his neck and those long legs from tangling, he wants to repay you. „Oh— You like my guitar?“ he quips, with his signature sultry bedroom eyes, you know `em. „Hey sure, I can play something for you. I know it’s a bit shabby, but it’s supposed to be like that!“ And he starts plucking away on the fretboard, doing some scales, it all looks pretty impressive. You continue with some banter like hey, it’s supposed to be all chipped-off and rundown. He’s a super sexy rockstar, and practice makes perfect. A used guitar’s a good one. Thomas almost messes up his playing when he hears you call him sexy. „Am I?“ — „Of course! Look at you.“ — „I don’t get that a lot. People call me laid-back or something. You also look really cool.“ Duh, you have Måneskin merch on. Of course you look sick as hell. With the conversation progressing, the two of you sort of trail off backstage, and Thomas asks if you wanna have some licks, too. „Guitar licks or some other licks?“ is what you reply, and he shrugs, looking pretty sheepish right there. „Whatever you choose.“ — „Best of both worlds sounds very good.“

victoria | Dancing up to Victoria at a party feels scarier than it actually turns out to be. Although you’re terrified she’ll reject and flame you, you just give it a try and slowly, very slowly but surely… gyrate those hips in her direction. She smiles at you, she gets on your wavelength, returns the moves. Does she like what you do? Maybe? Is she in the mood? Is she just friendly? Does she laugh because she thinks you look utterly pathetic in front of the queen of the world? She’s Victoria from Måneskin! Hell, you just keep going. You started this, you got your groove on, you can’t chicken out now. The eye contact, it’s everything. That Vic walked up to the party in a hot cowgirl outfit is just too hot to ignore. A drunk and dizzy guy, ill-dressed and foul-mouthed as can be, stumbling in her direction with no seeming breaks on you briefly shove out the way. Not too aggressively, but resolute enough. How dare this smelly fucker interrupt your little mating dance right here. One does not disturb an art performance! Damiano on his best behavior, standing some meters away with his cocktail glass takes care of the rest, cussing the house down like hey you stupid walking can of beer, get out, Victoria is flirting, what’s your problem! Damiano is going absolutely ballistic on this guy, he gets a taste of his own medicine. You’re too infatuated to understand what’s happening, and nobody else cares, anyway. It’s too loud to understand the rest of the verbiage over there.

In the meantime, Vic is buzzing with excitement because her favorite song is suddenly playing at maximum volume. As if it’s a sign from above, you know the lyrics and mouth them. That’s the absolute last straw, baby. „We need to go, we need to go!“ — blink once, Victoria drags you onto the dancefloor without further ado and goes crazy. You’re suddenly wearing her cowgirl hat. So there we are! Everyone knows this lady can headbang, but this is a new level. The beat is pumping like Damiano’s heart when he sees a palette of black eyeshadow. Whatever it is that Victoria’s busting out there, hands going in all directions, you like it. That wild ass moshing almost knocks over people’s drinks in your vicinity. Gladly, a very oblivious Ethan is there to just stand in the way and shield the whole scene with his hunky body-ody-ody, like your personal hired guard. With the entire crowd pushing in all directions and new guests pouring into the room, everything gets tighter and— Well you know. Victoria winds up grinding her ass against you. And not in a shy way. Did you pass away, is this heaven? Did someone slip you an ecstasy pill? This girl is making you go insane by the minute. You never thought Vic would actually reciprocate at all, so… the more you know, and who knows where this might lead, huh.

ethan | Music video filming: Over! Cut! We’re finished. Hustle and bustle everywhere.  The producer is already envisioning millions of clicks, money, stocks — and gets on your nerves talking about `EthaNFTs’. Damiano retreated to write down some song lyrics that he doesn’t want to forget on the fly, Vic is eating a big ole hamburger in a diner next door, and Thomas is recording a kind of tiktok challenge around the corner. You arranged all the props that needed to be placed on the current set, and now put them back again. All done, then. You’re amused how the makeup and styling team took off in five seconds flat. Their favorite restaurant in the area had earlier closing times. But Ethan, taking the longest to pack up his drum kit, is now left to his own devices with changing his lace outfit back to casual. If it is casual at all, he’s 24/7 stylish. The sparkly eyeliner gotta stay on then, he has no clue where the wipes are. Just a minute later, you hear him go through a clothing rack in an adjacent room. Oh Jesus, he’s in there naked. Or in his underwear. Shit, the door is only half-closed. In an attempt to look uninvolved, you try to busy yourself picking up a glass of apple juice from the catering service and almost bump into Thomas doing the same thing, actually leaving for the parked tour bus. Departure in fifteen minutes says the driver, back to the hotel.

You can’t get yourself to actually leave just now. The set still isn’t cleared, right. So you’re just standing there, drinking juice, watching the camera crew discuss something about editing. After Ethan’s done, 90’s rock band tanktop on, guess who looks real grumpy. „Tangled mess,“ he complains under his breath, and you can tell it’s the hair, a beehive of heavy product and knots. You step over and offer your aid. After all, you’re staff, too. Ethan’s always in his own world and takes care of his things: Doesn’t mean he will refuse help. Since he can’t find a proper mirror, Ethan `bird’s nest‘ Torchio is more than okay with you brushing out his hair. Hallelujah, he has his own comb with him. He sits down, scrolls through his phone, you do your thing, making small talk at the same time. It’s actually relaxing. And who has sexier hair. You quiz him about his beauty routine while you’re at it, and he says he really takes his time in the bathtub to really work in the shampoo and conditioner. The hair gets too caught in any sink, and the shower is just boring and not so Italiano. You joke about how he should show you. You realize that would also mean… getting in the tub with him, right. Ethan, no stranger to Freudian slips, smoothes over the situation by saying why not take a camera, have you stand outside the tub and try the routine on him, so it’s gonna be a vlog at the hotel. Harmless new Ethan Insta content idea. Okay: Sounds like a plan. Thank you for doing my hair, let’s go to the bus then he says, and you walk next to each other. You always wanted to get to know him a little better.

damiano | Breakfast at the seaside hotel: The two of you already exchanged some vaguely heated glances. Nobody else was there except you, Damiano, and his sexy garter belts. You happened to be the only people in the hall at 5:45 AM, although it all felt really awkward still. That your designated tables were right next to another really did not help with the odd atmosphere. You were surprised to see him with his guard down, actually, even if his get-up screamed confidence and sexuality. Who dons a waist corset and shoulder harness this early in the morning. Walking up to the buffet where he paced around indecisively, you picked up a sandwich yourself. Right after complimenting Damiano’s all violet fashion choice… and just had to make fun of him when his `aesthetic‘ butt plug accessory chain got caught on the leg of the table. Straight-up having him wobble around on his big ass platform boots like a purple flamingo. He even tries to play it off by making a little booty-shaking dance out of it. Courtesy be damned, it’s too frickin’ early in the morning to censor yourself. And he’s the one walking around like he just visited a Dominatrix. So all you said to him was okay, that’s what happens when you put toys in your ass indeed, can’t even walk straight. Going by his unrestrained and bent-over laughter, Damiano enjoys the joke a little too much. This guy is wheezing his soul out. Ten seconds later, the realization hits. Way to go, he’s just clowned himself in front of a stranger he’s been eyefucking with. But the inappropriate humor… sure does something to him.

Back to eating: Even more awkwardly. You’re kind of laughing it off, too, now. But the story’s not over yet. After dropping a plate of scrambled eggs on his satin skirt and opening a sprite that exploded in his face — and onto your sweater, Damiano’s Italian dignity went down the drain entirely. So hey, screw the rest of breakfast, you both direly needed a change of clothing. On your way up to the rooms, someone desperately apologizes with endless what-can-i-do-for-yous. „Hm… I guess I do,“ Damiano clasps his hands behind his back, sort of kicking his dancey legs side to side to the beat of the catchy elevator music. He just looks down at his skirt and smiles all goofy. Is he shy? You just asked him if he really means it when he sings I’ll do whatever you want. Gotta be bold. And quoting his own crazy lyrics back to him when a fitting moment arises is only fair. Since he seems to mean it, you put some heat in your words. „Then, put that plug back in. There’s kids runnin’ around here, you kinky riot girl wannabe!“ —  „Oh my God, are you bullying me? You just don’t want me to trip!“ — „Hum, maybe.“ You don’t even know why you’re saying all these things, but very well: See you at lunch then in a new skirt, Mister Damiano David.

read it on ao3

© 2017-2022 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

[mountswhore]

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 — mason mount

summary: you were getting tired of listening to mason’s problems with his girlfriend, so you plan on confronting him. until he shows up at your door.

notes: requests are open! btw i know i use the same job in a lot of these, it just makes them meeting easier.

“She doesn’t compare to you. No one does.” + “I’ll take the couch.” + “It’s us against the world.”

for @mountswdw

It was tiring, far beyond that, actually. Hearing the same leave his mouth words over and over, the same look on his face, it enervated you. You were exhausted with having Mason appear at your door at stupid o’clock, venting to you about his ‘girlfriend’ and their issues, and all you could do was listen. You’d tried giving him advice the first few times, but he never took it. You don’t even think he took it into consideration. and girlfriend was entirely the wrong word to use, they were more friends with benefits. That’s how she saw their relationship anyway. It was exceptionally worse, because you liked him so much. You wanted to scream in his face and tell him she’s pushing him around, but you couldn’t, it would ruin your friendship.

Mason was sat opposite you, pulling you out of sleep, just to talk to you about her. It felt as if he knew you liked him, and decided to torture you by giving you the inside scoop into their time-bomb of a relationship. You were curled up on the sofa, blanket still wrapped around you as you tried to cling onto your sleep, barely listening to him whine about how his girlfriend seemed like she didn’t care anymore. Your eyelids were so close to shutting again, but you managed to keep them open for Mason. As much as his girlfriend angered you, Mason was your friend and you had to be there for him. You wanted to.

“I think I might call it quits,” Mason sighed softly, eyes finally meeting yours after twenty minutes of squeezing them shut in anger, “I’m gonna do it.” He psyched himself up for it, attempting to steady his breathing. You were surprised the first time he said this, thinking you’d actually gotten through to him. But two days later, his Instagram story was filled with pictures of them both on a nice date. It ruined your Friday night in.

“Okay, Mase.” You whispered, standing up from your seat on the couch. You’d been sat there for so long that your exposed skin was now cold again, creating a strip of goosebumps that lined your side and legs. “You can stay here, if you want. You know where the spare bedding is.” It felt like a script at this point, repeating the same things to him as he found solace in you after an argument with his girlfriend.

“Yeah,” Mason conceded, watching with an achy heart as you shifted towards your stairs, “goodnight, Y/N.” Hearing him say your name never failed to give you butterflies, no matter how tired you were of hearing his complaints.

“Night, Mase.” Was all you said back as you reached your room, diving back into the now-cold sheets. Mason had set up his usual makeshift bed in the living room, your couch was actually comfier than most. That’s why he never hesitated to sleep on it. But his night was anything but full of sleep, despite the argument being fresh on his mind still, he was thinking about you.

Your friendship was different now than it was before. Before his girlfriend. You’d met when you were a trainee-massage therapist. Chelsea’s massage therapist had been kind enough to let you shadow him for a week, showing you the ins-and-outs of what his job was like. And you’d made friends with a few of the Chelsea boys, but ultimately caught Mason’s eye. Soon enough, you’d been offered a job alongside this massage therapist and here you were. Friendly flirting with Mason during work hours and after. Nothing came of it, you both saw it as flirty banter, and were good friends. Until his girlfriend came around.

Mason told himself he valued his friendship with you over potentially pushing it further, so tried to get over you. With Ella. Ella seemed sweet to begin with, but when Mason started coming to you for comfort, that’s when you saw how terrible their relationship was. She’d seen it differently to Mason, who felt it was more romantic than sexual. To say it stung to hear about his sexcapades with Ella, was an understatement. That’s when you began to grow tired of it, hearing about them constantly. It was the only time you’d talk really, apart from when you were having a session with him at work.

Laying there for two hours, putting himself in your shoes, it had all come together for him. He was cursing himself as he’d walked up the stairs, to give you more than just a fraction of the attention you’d gotten so used to. He’d imagined only seeing you when you complained about a boy you’d been seeing, and it dampened his mood. But thinking about you seeing another boy, that’s what made his feet move rapidly to your room. Knowing what he’d put you through for the past few months, it made him mad at himself. He’d never let someone treat him like this, so why should he treat his closest friend like this?

“Y/N,” you heard from behind you, startling you as you looked around in the dark, “are you awake?” Matching the voice to Mason’s, it calmed you down a bit. It wasn’t just a random intruder who knew your name and was considerate enough to let you know they’d broken in. “Y/N,” he repeated, his finger tracing down the arch of your back, “please wake up.”

“What’s up, Mase?” You somnolently questioned, yawning as he came into view. Your lamp was now on, illuminating his bloodshot eyes and tired smile. It was only something you’d wish to wake up to every morning. He said nothing, but pulled you into a hug. His arms a tight yet perfect fit around you, a small kiss was pressed to your shoulder as you shifted. Mason never wanted to let you go.

It was moments like this that slowly killed you inside. You and Mason had cuddled before, on one of the nights he’d come over after an argument, he’d snuggle up to you on the couch as you finished watching your movie. It would be a gentle night of intimacy, feelings locked away due to his relationship, and yet he’d still choose her. He’d always go back to Ella, so much so, it made you wonder what she had to make him crawl back each time.

Mason was now in bed with you, head on your chest and enjoying your warmth. He felt a lot better now, having you in his arms, giving you the attention you deserved. But this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want another cuddle with a friend, you wanted him. But you knew his heart still belonged to Ella. He’d fallen asleep pretty quickly, so you’d rolled him off of you and gotten some sleep for yourself before work tomorrow. Where you’d see him.

Throughout your day, you’d caught eyes with him a few times. He’d give you a cheeky grin and sometimes even sing your name as he walked past you. You told yourself not to be hopeful for Mason’s breakup with Ella, because it had never happened before. But not once had he mentioned her to you over the course of the day. A smile had been plastered to your face as you left your office for the day, you could no longer push the hope away, Mason could finally be calling it quits with her.

Until you saw that damned white Golf. She was stood there, a smirk upon her face, Mason jogging up to her and getting into the car. Your mood flattened, making your drive home depressing and your arrival even worse. Your bed still unmade, the creases from Mason moving around in his sleep last night. His jacket was still here, hung on the door of your bedroom. The note he left on your bathroom mirror saying ‘thank you for everything you do <3’, because he knew you’d see it there. Everything in your house reminded you of him, you’d never escape the love you had for this man.

And there you were, back on your couch again. Mason was clearly sticking with Ella this time, so it was a quiet night in for you. This time last year, when Mason actually seemed to be your friend, he’d be round most nights and you’d be arguing over who’s having the last Cornetto and what to watch. But now, it’s like you’re not even his friend. You’re his therapist. You could barely pay attention to the movie you were watching, your mind relaying the scene you’d witnessed today. Seeing him curled up in your bed this morning, and then running to his girlfriends car this afternoon. You’d decided enough was enough.

“I’m gonna confront this asshole,” you mumbled to yourself, changing out of your pyjamas and into a warmer outside attire, “he either stops coming to me about his fucking relationship, or he leaves me alone.” You were psyching yourself up, something you’d mirrored Mason doing a million times before. You’d spent so much time together, you were almost the same person. Sliding into your shoes, you grabbed the door handle. You either cried or screamed at him, no in between. You yanked the handle down to open your door, almost jumping out of your skin when you saw Mason at your door.

“Mason?” You questioned whether you were seeing things or he was actually clinging onto you and weeping into your shoulder. “Why are you here? What happened?” You wanted to be angry at him, you wanted to tell him how tired you were of hearing him complain about his girlfriend nonstop, but not even the worst argument could keep you from comforting him.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, tears staining the material of your hoodie, “I never meant to treat you like this. You mean everything to me.” You brought him inside and sat him on your couch, seeing yourself where you were last night. Only this time you were more concerned. Mason had never cried in front of you, and you still hadn’t found out why.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry for making it feel like I only need you when I argue with Ella.” He simply stated, his large hand wrapped quite tightly around yours. “I promise I need you all the time, you get me through everything. I’d be nowhere without you, you know that. But I’m done, we’re done. I know you saw me getting into her car earlier, but I did it. I finally finished things with her.”

You were knocked out of breath, processing what you’d just heard. After months of having to pick up the pieces, there was no more of that. And not only had he surprised you by following through with his word, he’d apologised. Your Mason was back.

“Really?” You asked, unsure of whether to believe him or not. He just nodded and opened his arms, you falling into them almost instantly. “I mean I’m sorry, but I’m kind of glad. Nobody should make you feel that unhappy, that frequently.” He responded by squeezing you tighter, his hands gently grazing your sides. You wondered if this was going to be the moment a chance would appear — an opportunity for you to tell Mason how you felt about him.

Mason pulled away from your hug, his eyes catching yours briefly before he stared down at your lips. You felt like you were in a haze, eyes half closed as you stared back at him. You were entranced by him and you hadn’t felt as relieved as you did in months. Mason took this chance to inch closer to you, feeling your breath on his face and your hand resting on his thigh. “She doesn’t compare to you. No one does.” He whispered, finally closing the gap between you both. It felt electric, something that was long overdue.

“Mase,” you breathed, whining at the sudden loss of contact, he’d pulled away from the kiss to smile at you, “it’s been so hard watching and listening to her hurt you.” Mason held you close, his newfound confidence after kissing you had you speechless as you looked at him. “But I’d never leave you to deal with it alone.”

“It’s us against the world, it always has been.” He admitted, your legs swung over his lap as he held you tight. The night had ended exactly how you’d hoped, Mason in your arms and no more listening to him whine about Ella. It was the perfect end to your shitty day. But it was getting late, Mason was even yawning as he looked at the time on his phone.

You stood up, shaking off your coat and hanging it on the banister, as well as placing your shoes back onto the shoe rack. Sleep was calling your name at this point, and you didn’t want anything more than to cuddle up to Mason as you slept.

“I’ll take the couch.” Mason stated, reaching into the living room cupboard to grab the blankets out. But you’d grabbed his arm and pulled him up, his face towering over yours. Your eyes met once again, and this time you initiated the kiss. It was brief, and enough to show you still meant what you said.

“Don’t be silly,” your voice was soft, hand linking his as you led him up to your room. Bed still unmade, exactly how he left it this morning. He’d given you one last look, his usual cheeky smile on his face as he grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bed.

He was above you, and although you were both in the moment, it played out romantically. Mason smoothed his palm over the sides of your face, moving the stray hairs and taking in your beauty. You were effortless with how you looked, and still the most beautiful girl he’d seen. The way he looked at you, it was as if he’d been doing it for years. And he has, but you’d never know that.

[monako-jinn-stories]

Boba Fett x GN!Reader FanFic

The Tribute

Master List

Chapter One

Chapter Three

Chapter Two

A soft knocking at your door wakes you up. Instantly, you jump out of bed and run to the door to open it.

“I’m so sorry, I slept in too late, I promise it won’t happen again. What would you like me to do? Prepare something for you?” Boba stands there in slight shock as you ramble, before he realizes what you must be thinking. He gently sets his hand on your shoulder, and you flinch slightly. His eyes widen at your reaction before he removes his hand.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he says. “But you don’t need to worry, little one. I’m not mad, I’m glad you got your rest. Remember, you are free now, you don’t have to serve me like you did the Zygerrians.”

“Thank you, Boba,” you respond, slightly embarrassed by your reaction.

“No, thank you,” he says.

“For what?” you question, and Boba seems to be confused by it, as though he doesn’t know what to say.

“For um…for staying with us. It’s nice to have someone else around.”

“Oh, well you’re welcome then.” Boba looks at you for a few more silent moments until he remembers what he’d come to say.

“Me and Fennec will be having a chat with the assassin she captured yesterday. I want you to stay out of sight and not let your presence be known, in case he is to find out about you and try to harm you in some way.”

“Okay, I can just stay here,” you say, taking a step back into your room.

“That will work. Although if you want to leave, just be quiet as you move around.”

“Trust me, I know how to sneak around. You have to when you’re a slave, especially when sneaking into the kitchen to get food.” The way you talk about having to hide your actions of getting food makes Boba’s blood boil. His fists clench as he briefly imagines you and others having to fear the consequences of merely eating food. No one should live like that, no one should be deprived of life if they have done nothing wrong.

“I hope you never have to fear eating again,” he says. “Eat as much as you wish here. Do not fear consequences because there will be none for you, unless it is an act that anyone would be punished for.”

“This will take me some time to get used to, but thank you,” you say, bowing your head slightly. When you do, Boba reaches out and lifts your chin so that you’re looking into his eyes. They’re soft, kind, and some emotion that you’ve never seen anyone look at you with is there. Time seems to stop and quicken at once, and the moment only ends when someone clears their throat behind Boba. You’re the first to look away, seeing Fennec standing behind Boba with a raised brow and amused expression.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we need to interrogate the prisoner.”

“Right, in that case,” Boba says, still looking at you, the soft smile still there, “I will come find you later when you can freely walk around without worry, mesh’la.”

“Okay, mesh’la,” you respond, giving him a smile back. Boba nods and steps out of the room, heading towards the throne room. Fennec throws you a quick smirk before she moves to walk beside Boba.

“That was cute, but are you ever going to tell them what mesh’la really means?” Fennec teases as they walk.

“They will know eventually if things go smoothly,” Boba replies.

“They looked pretty smooth to me,” Fennec says.

“Then that’s a good sign.” The conversation ends as they near the room, their attitudes shifting from friendly banter to serious business.

As you wait for them to do their interrogation, you start reading the second book of the series you had started. Immediately you’re wrapped up in it again, wanting to spend your entire day in the story. Your peace is interrupted, however, when there’s another knock on your door. You panic for a second before remembering what Boba had said earlier. You decide to test out something, to see how it would feel to be more casual.

“Come in,” you say, and the door opens to reveal a smiling Boba.

“Well, I see you’ve become more comfortable,” he chuckles, moving to stand closer to your spot. You were sitting in your window seat again, the view of the city below you and the sun shining in gave you a warm feeling.

“Yes, much thanks to your insisting,” you joke.

“Ah, well, as long as I’m able to help, and as long as you’re able to be comfortable.”

“I am, and you are.” You wish you could read Boba’s mind right now. The emotions swirling in his eyes were curious to you, and the way he was gazing at you gave you a tingling feeling. It was a good tingling, like something was stirring in your heart.

“Me and Fennec have to leave for a bit, go talk to some people again,” Boba says after a silent minute.

“Oh, for how long?”

“I’m not sure. Hopefully there won’t be trouble this time.”

“Yeah, I hate seeing you harmed. I mean, I know who you are, but still. You’re a better man than what people think.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that from you,” he says, his cheeks warming slightly. “But I assure you, much worse has happened to me.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It was an attempt,” he admits, giving a small laugh. You just furrow your brows at him, before smirking to yourself.

“Then I guess I have to step up and protect you as well.”

“Mesh’la, please do not put yourself in harm's way for me. I’m not worth you getting hurt.”

“Nonsense. I may not know you well, but I know you deserve to have someone stand up for you. And if I get hurt, then so be it.” Boba can’t help but just want to lean forwards and pull you into a kiss, but he stops himself from attempting to. He knows he has to be patient, take things slow. But you’re already the perfect person to him, and he swears he’s already falling in love.

“I will do everything in my power to make sure you never get hurt,” he says.

“And I’ll do the same for you,” you reply. He just chuckles and shakes his head, looking out of the window for a second before looking back at you.

“While we’re gone, feel free to roam the palace, or the city. I don’t want you to feel trapped here, and I’m sure this place will get boring at some point.”

“Not when you’re around,” you say, causing Boba’s cheeks to warm again. You can’t help but repress a giggle at his reaction. It was cute, and he seemed to have to compose himself slightly before talking.

“I’m glad you enjoy my company,” he says. “Anyways, I hate to cut this short, but I better be going before Fennec yells at me again.”

“Aw, is your boss lady mean to you?” you tease, and he lets out a single laugh at that.

“I can assure you Fennec is not my boss. I’m her boss.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you smirk, and he looks at you with a raised brow and his own smirk.

“I’ll be back for you later. Here,” he says, grabbing a piece of paper and quickly writing something down. “The top is my comm, and the bottom is Fennec’s. Comm me first if you need anything, and if I don’t answer then try Fennec.”

“What if you both don’t answer?” Boba looks at you for a second, and you can see him trying to think of a response.

“The only way I won’t answer you is if I’m dead, so there is very little chance that neither of us will.”

“But if you don’t?”

“Then I will be waiting for you on the other side,” is all Boba can think to say. He knows it’s not what you want to hear, but he can’t think of anything else to say. You just nod, and he wishes he could give you more.

“As I said,” he says as he stands, grabbing your hand gently and rubbing his thumb over it, “I’ll be back for you later. Stay safe, mesh’la.”

“And you, mesh’la,” you reply.

When he leaves your room, you watch out the window until you see him, Fennec, the prisoner, and the guards walk down the street. This time, Boba doesn’t look up at you, knowing the prisoner might be curious as to what he’s looking back at. You watch until they’re no longer in sight, and then decide to get up and explore the city.

Before you leave the palace, you look around until you find a spare blaster. It looked relatively in good shape, a few scratches but not overused. You raise it and take aim, seeing if it feels natural. Although you’ve never shot one before, you know that having some form of protection is necessary if you are going to leave. You also grab a knife, a spare weapon in case the blaster doesn't work.

As you’re about to leave, the protocol droid startles you, as you’d forgotten about it being here.

“Are you needing assistance in your travels?” the droid asks.

“Uh, what kind of assistance might I need?”

“Well, there is a chance you may need a translator, which I could provide translations for you.”

“I think I’ll be fine,” you say, not sure how to feel about the droid.

“Shall I let the Great Boba Fett know of your leaving when he and Sir Fennec return?”

“If I’m not back before them, then yes. But if I’m back, then no.”

“Very well,” the droid says, turning and walking off to somewhere else in the palace. You leave after that, making your trek into the city.

Mos Espa is busy, and you can’t help but feel slightly excited by it. Just walking down the street, you pass by people of multiple different origins, hear dozens of different languages, see hundreds of different products.

As you wander, you find yourself in a market type area. There’s many different stands set up, and lots of trading happening. You find yourself wishing you had some credits to buy with, or something to trade, but you resolve to just looking around.

“Need help finding something specific?” a man asks behind you. You turn around to see who it is, and he looks friendly enough to you.

“No, I’m just looking. I didn’t bring any credits to buy with.”

“Ah, I see. Well, perhaps if you find something, I could buy it for you,” he offers, and you grow slightly weary of him.

“Thanks for the offer, but that's not necessary,” you say.

“Just thought I’d,” he says. “Have you ever been to Mos Espa before?”

“I just recently moved here,” you answer.

“Ah, well, I hope you enjoy it. I’m Cobb Vanth, by the way. I’m a sort of marshal around Tatooine.”

“Ah, I see,” you say, trying to not show your disinterest.

“So, where did you move from?”

“Zygerria.”

“Zygerria? That’s a strange place to live,” he comments.

“I didn’t choose to live there. I was a slave.”

“Oh,” he says, a wave of guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry. Are you…free now?” You think about your response for a second, wondering what the best answer would be. You’d been warned about the dangers of people finding out you’d been freed, what might happen if the Zygerrians know. But you also wondered how he might react if you said you hadn’t been. Would he try to help you, or would he try and take you back, assuming you’ve escaped.

“It’s complicated,” you settle for, hoping it’s good enough for him.

“Complicated?” he questions, and you nod your head.

“Technically, I’ve been given away as a tribute. But, the person who received me doesn’t like to keep slaves, so he prefers to just have me as a hired help.”

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, shouldn’t you have credits?”

“This is only my second day,” you shrug.

“Oh, so you’re new new here.”

“Yes,” you confirm.

“Well, would you like me to show you around a bit?” You consider his question for a second before your thoughts are interrupted by a conversation you hear off to the side.

“They what?”

“Yeah, the two bounty hunters just walked right in and demanded to see the mayor. They had a prisoner with them as well, not sure who he was.”

“They’re going to get themselves killed.”

“Not like any of us would care.”

“Excuse me,” you say, walking over to the people talking. They turn to look at you, hostile expressions on their faces.

“Yes?” the one who’d questioned the other says.

“Who are the two bounty hunters you’re talking about?”

“The new people at Jabba's palace. Fennec Shand and Boba Fett.”

“Are they really in danger?”

“Kriff if I know, and I don’t really care. Now, can you please leave us alone and stay out of our conversation?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, stepping away.

“You should probably be more careful,” Cobb says. “Some people here aren’t that friendly, especially if you eavesdrop.”

“I think I’ve realized that myself,” you respond.

“So, will you let me show you around?” he asks again, and you nod.

“Just don’t try any funny business,” you warn.

“Don’t worry, I’m the one who deals with the funny business,” he says before beginning to lead you around.

Cobb shows you a bunch of different places. He takes you to some of the best, in his opinion, stands at the market. He shows you around a bit of the city, telling you which buildings are safe to go in, which ones aren’t, and which ones you should always be with someone when you enter.

In the middle of showing you around, you hear something strange. You pause, turning to see where the sound was coming from.

“Do you hear that as well?” you ask, and Cobb nods his head.

“I don’t know what it is, but I hear it.”

“It sounds like it’s coming from this way,” you say, leading him down the street before you turn a corner and stop in your tracks. In front of you is a group of men carrying two Hutts on a giant platform type thing. There’s a drummer in the center, his face stoic as they parade through the streets.

“Maker,” you say, “I hoped to never see a Hutt in my lifetime. Now I’ve seen two.”

“Ah, they’re not the prettiest of creatures,” Cobb agrees. “I wonder what they’re doing here. Probably heard about Boba taking over the palace and have come to reclaim it to the Hutt name.”

“Wait, you think they’re here for him?” you ask, doing your best to hide your worry.

“Well, I can’t think of any other reason for why they’d leave Nal Hutta. Tell me,” Cobb says, turning to look at you, “why are you so interested in Boba Fett and Fennec Shand?”

“I’ve just heard a lot about them,” you say, which isn’t a lie. “I would like to get to know them.”

“You want to get to know two of the most famous bounty hunters in the galaxy?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“That’s just not a…normal thing to want,” Cobb replies. You just turn and watch the parade again. A growling to your side causes you to jump back. A giant, menacing looking Wookie glares at you as it walks past. The blaster in its hands is one of the biggest you’ve seen, and you don’t even have to question how much damage it can do to know that one shot from it, and you’d be dead.

“Huh, well if you want to get to know Boba and Fennec, they’re right over there,” Cobb says. You snap your head to look in their direction, and your blood chills at the sight. Boba is standing in the middle of the street, Fennec a little ways behind keeping a sharp eye out. The Gamorrean guards are standing on either side of Boba, and the Hutts are stopped in front of him.

You move closer, wanting to hear what is being said. Boba’s helmet catches a glint of light, and you pause when it does. You have a feeling it’s a slight warning for you to stay back.

Much to your annoyance, you’re still not close enough to hear, but you can tell by the reactions around you that things are tense. You see the Wookie move forward, and you take a step forward yourself, but a hand on your arm stops you. Cobb shakes his head, and you move back again.

A few more tense minutes go by as they talk, but eventually the Hutts are turned around, and the parade carries them away. You look back at Boba as he removes his helmet. He gives you a slight nod, and you take it as a sign that it’s okay. Fennec walks up to him, and as she does, Cobb gains your attention again.

“I must be on my way now, but do you feel safe enough to be out by yourself?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you reply. “I’m probably just going to head home now, actually.”

“Would you like an escort? I can be a little late to where I’m headed.”

“No, I’ll be alright. Thank you, Cobb.”

“It was my pleasure,” he says. “And if you ever need anything,” he adds, handing you a slip of paper, “comm me.”

“Will do,” you reply.

“Before I go, what is your name?”

“Y/n,” you say.

“Goodbye then, y/n. I hope to see you around.” He waves as he leaves, and you look again towards Boba and Fennec. You wish you could walk with them, but you decide to just walk a bit of a ways ahead, making sure they can still see you in case something happens. You also know that you need to get used to being out alone. Tatooine is a dangerous place, and you need to be confident and brave walking around. You won’t spend your life needing protection, although you will gladly accept it when it’s offered.

As you walk back, you can’t help but wonder what the Hutts had said. You wonder if Boba would tell you, or if he would want to keep you out of it. Perhaps if he didn’t tell you, Fennec would, though you also didn’t think she’d go behind his back.

You don’t slow down to let them catch up, knowing that even being away from the city, there is still a chance someone could see you. You just continue to walk until you reach the palace. When you slip inside, you wait in the throne room for them.

“Are you alright, little one?” Boba says when he walks in. He immediately goes over to you, worry painting his features.

“I’m fine, but are you?”

“Yes, I’m alright. There’s just a bit of a…misunderstanding,” he says.

“It’s a little more than a bit of a misunderstanding,” Fennec says, stepping over.

“What do you mean?” you ask her. She lifts her brow in question at Boba, and he sighs before motioning to her to continue.

“The Hutts want the palace, and Tatooine, back. They want the territory that Jabba once ruled, because according to some tablet, his empire was to be given to them in the case of his death. Though, Bib Fortuna had taken over, and then we killed him. So the territory is rightfully ours, despite what their tablet states.”

“Wait, so are they going to try and take it?”

“Probably,” Fennec says.

“But don’t worry, little one,” Boba steps in, “you’ll be safe.”

“Will you be safe?” you ask them both, and they look at each other before looking at you.

“You don’t need to worry about us, y/n,” Fennec says. “We’ve been around for a while, in the dangerous business since we were young. We can take care of ourselves.”

“Speaking of taking care of ourselves,” Boba starts, and you notice he seems to be standing a little weakly. “I think it’s bacta time for me.”

“Alright, old man. Let’s get you there, then,” Fennec says, but Boba reaches a hand out to stop her.

“Y/n,” he says, looking at you, “would you like to help me?”

“Me?” you ask, slightly confused at his suggestion.

“Yes, if you would like to. But you don’t have to, Fennec can certainly help.”

“No no, I can help,” you say, and he smiles at you and nods.

“Alright, come with me then.” You follow Boba as he makes his way to the medical room, keeping close in the case that he might need your help. He seems to be growing very tired, and you can see why he needs to get to the bacta.

“You don’t think I’m an old man, do you?” he randomly asks as you enter the room.

“Well, no, not in the sense that you’re helpless and need others. But your age is a bit older than mine.”

“Would age be a deciding factor in a relationship?” he asks, causing you to stop and look at him. He returns the look as well, an expectant look on his face.

“I can’t say I’ve thought much about it,” you reply slowly, “but I don’t think it would be much of a factor. Why?”

“Just…curious,” he responds before opening the bacta tank. You stand there and watch before you realize what he’s doing. You turn around quickly and feel your cheeks heat after you see him lift off his shirt.

“Oh, sorry,” he says, “I guess I’m just used to Fennec naturally looking away.”

“No, you’re fine,” you say, “just let me know when I can turn around.”

“You should be fine now, but fair warning, I’m not wearing much.” You prepare yourself to see him before you turn around, and your cheeks warm even more when you look at him. You do your best to not let your eyes roam, and choose to awkwardly look around the room. He doesn’t pay attention to your reaction, and instead climbs into the tank. You go over and hand him the breathing tube. He smiles at you before putting it on, and you slowly close the lid.

When he closes his eyes, you wait until his vitals settle before you go to leave. Something stops you though, and you turn again and go back over. He doesn’t look peaceful, instead it looks like he’s dreaming about something dark, perhaps something upsetting. You feel yourself wanting to open the tank and wake him up, but then you sense someone else in the room. You turn and watch as Fennec approaches, nodding towards Boba.

“At first, I wanted to wake him as well, but I knew he needed the bacta. I was worried something was wrong, that maybe it wasn’t healing him, that it was hurting him. But then he told me about the nightmares he has, reliving past trauma.”

“Does it happen every time?” you ask, looking back at him.

“As far as I know, yes. But he doesn’t talk much about it to me. Maybe he’ll talk to you.”

“Me? He barely knows me though,” you say.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t notice,” Fennec says.

“Notice what?” you question, before you realize what she means. “You mean the way he looks at me?”

“Not just that, but how he talks to you, how he cares about you. For some reason, he’s taken an instant liking to you. Kriff, I’d even say he likes you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you deny, turning away and biting your lip. Is that the emotion you see in his eyes when he looks at you? Does Boba Fett like you?

“Look, all I know is he barely knows you but is already willing to give his life for you. Don’t take it lightly, he doesn’t devote himself very easily.”

“I won’t,” you assure her. She watches you for a few moments before she turns and leaves. When she does, an idea pops into your head. You run out of the room and into the nearest office space. You find a marker and run back, giggling to yourself. In your very unpracticed handwriting, you scribble out a little message for him on the transparisteel.

Hello, Mesh’la :D

You smile to yourself when it’s done, proud that you were able to write it backwards, despite not writing very good in general.

When Boba wakes up, the first thing he sees is your message. The bacta tank opens, and when he removes the breathing tube he lets out a chuckle. He quickly dresses before leaving the medical room, peering into yours to see if you’re in there. To his surprise, you���re not, and he instantly wonders where you are.

“Y/n?” he calls out as he walks down the hall. He listens for a response, but doesn’t get one. He debates comming you, but decides to look around a bit more before he does. As he walks around another corner, he bumps into you, and you drop something on the floor.

“Oh kriff!” you say, looking down at the spilled soup.

“Maker, I’m so sorry,” he says, guilt instantly washing over him. You just look at him and let out a small laugh.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you say, picking up the bowl. “I was actually taking it to you. Fennec told me you’d been in the tank long enough, and that you’d probably be hungry when you got out.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he says before chuckling. “I just hope you don’t expect me to lick it up off the floor.”

“No, there’s plenty more back in the kitchen. I mean, unless you want the floor soup.”

“No no, I’ll settle for the other stuff,” he says, and you giggle before heading back the way you came.

“Did you make it yourself?”

“Yes, it’s a healing recipe I was taught. Fennec’s already ate, so it’ll just be me and you,” you say.

“I’m more than okay with that,” Boba responds, and your mind instantly flies back to what Fennec said earlier. You feel your cheeks heat slightly, but thankfully he can’t see as you’re in front of him. When you reach the kitchen you pour him another bowl before handing it to him and grabbing your own. He walks to the room with the small chair and table, and sits down like the day before.

It’s a comfortable silence as you eat together, both of you in your own thoughts. You do notice when he starts humming, and you look up at him curiously when he does.

“It’s a Mandalorian tune,” he says, continuing to hum. You smile as you listen to it, letting the sound envelop you. It’s soothing, making you feel warm inside.

“It’s beautiful,” you say.

“It reminds me of you,” he says, “soft, innocent, pure. Something I want to keep close and protect.”

“Well, I’m honored,” you say. “I do have a question though, if you’re okay with answering.”

“Of course, my dear. Ask away.”

“When you’re in the bacta tank, what do you dream about? You looked…distressed. I was worried, I wanted to wake you.”

“Ah, my dreams,” he says, sitting back in his chair. “I dream of my past, when I was a child and even just a few years ago.”

“I meant, what exactly are those things?” Boba pauses, seeming to debate over his answer. He looks up at you then and gives an almost apologetic smile.

“As much as I would like to share with you, right now I don’t think I can.”

“I understand,” you say.

“I promise, I’ll tell you eventually, my dear.” You look up and meet his gaze as he says this, and you can tell he means it. You nod, smiling back at him.

“How was your day?” he asks, shifting the subject away from his dreams.

“It was fine. As you know, I went out to the city. I met this nice man, actually.”

“A nice man?” Boba questions, and you don’t miss his slight change of tone.

“Yeah, his name was Cobb Vanth-“

“Cobb Vanth?”

“You know him?”

“Well, I know of him. He stole my armor. Though I wasn’t the one to get it back from him, a friend was. But that friend also was weary of returning it to me,” Boba explains.

“Why wouldn’t he want to give it to you?” you question.

“Ah, well before he knew who I was, and what I was, he refused to give the armor to anyone. He’s a Mandalorian, but he’s of creed.”

“I see,” you say. “So he just didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands again.”

“Yes. He wanted to make sure the true owner had the armor returned to them.”

“Well, I’m glad he did. It suits you quite nicely,” you say. Boba sets his glass down then, tapping his fingers on the table a few times before looking up at you.

“How would you like to get some of your own armor? It doesn’t have to be a whole set, but just some to protect yourself. Perhaps just a helmet, if you want.”

“That sounds nice, thank you, Boba,” you say, smiling excitedly at him. He smiles back, something sparkling in his eyes again.

“Yes, I believe a helmet would be especially good for you.”

“Why?” you say, suddenly offended by his comment. “Do you think I should be hidden?”

“Oh, no I didn’t-That’s not what I meant,” he says quickly. You raise your brow at him, leaning back in your chair and folding your arms over your chest.

“Then what exactly did you mean?” Boba is silent for a moment, debating in his mind whether to answer honestly. Your expression convinces him that he should, and so he does.

“I want to keep you hidden from the world because I don’t want to share you,” he says.

“Share me? So I’m yours now?”

“Mesh’la, that’s not, ah kriff,” Boba says, resting his head in his hands. You can’t help but be slightly amused by his struggling, seeing him try to find the right words.

“That’s not what you meant? Then what did you mean, Boba?” He looks up at you then, meeting your gaze. He studies you for a second, realizing the game you’re playing at.

“Oh, I see now,” he says, and you tilt your head in question. “Oh no, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re just trying to get me to say something.”

“Whatever do you mean?” you ask, feigning innocence. He just chuckles at you, standing from his chair.

“My dear, I am not ready to say it yet, and I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear it. You may think you are, but I want you to be certain.”

“I understand, Boba,” you say, nodding at his words. And you do understand. Boba is doing everything in his power to protect you and help you, and if he believes this is best, then you will accept it. Even if he doesn’t say it, you at least know he was thinking it, and you know what he had meant.

“I must go talk with Fennec about business again. If I don’t see you before you sleep, then I wish you the best of dreams and rest.”

“And you as well,” you respond, standing from your seat as well. He begins to leave the room, but something in you compels you to stop him.

“Boba,” you say, instantly becoming shy when he turns to look at you. You bit your lip briefly before walking over slowly. When you’re close, you pause and look at him.

“Yes?” he asks, but you just shyly smile and gently hold his cheek, giving him a soft kiss on the other before stepping back. Boba is frozen, his cheeks clearly heated by the action. He looks at you before licking his lips and clearing his throat.

“I-uh…um, thank-thank you,” he says, and you bite back your smile and nod.

“You’re welcome,” you say, watching him as he turns and begins to walk away, his hand going up to the spot where your lips had touched his cheek. You keep smiling to yourself, heading to your room to begin preparing for bed. As you fall asleep, the image of Boba’s flustered state appears in your mind, and your dreams are filled with even more.

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Tag list! Use this Tag List Form if you would like to be added! @imabeautifulbutterfly @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @tacticalsparkles @namesmox @crosshairxs @milppa @techssexythighs @paige6768 @rintheemolion @lightning-wolffe @ilikemymendarkandfictional @megafrost4 @darkangel4121 @hedahobbit98 @shuttlelauncher81 @sleepy-tog @littlemisscare-all @nahoney22 @ladykatakuri @that-one-weeb-but-starwars @maygalodon @rain-on-kamino @shadowwing1324 @salaminus

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

How bout a fic a levi x civilian baker? Reader finds him intimidating at first but as time goes by she get to know him and slowly falls in love with levi. Likes his cleanfreakiness, obsession with tea, his gentleness, how he treats his comrades etc. Reader sees his softer side, hidden under the gruffiness and glares. The setting could be scouts relaxing in a small bakery x teashop every dayoff they get and/or reader donates bread for the scouts? Just a peaceful love story❤ with funny banters❤

This has been in my inbox for months but I only now found some inspiration to write it (I'm basically baking stuff every single day so maybe that's why) anon, if you're still out there I'm sorry for the long wait, I hope this is what you wanted.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: fluff, canonverse

Loaves of Love

It all started with a young brunette soldier who had been awestruck by your shop's enamoring display. With her shaky hands and her oily teenage skin pressed against the shiny glass while a streak of drool run down her face.

You had been waxing some tables to start the day with, your feet much swollen and numb by the long standing position when you noticed her; big, round brown eyes that were swooning over the loaf of garlic bread you had placed at the shelf on display were blinking rapidly between you and the object of her desire. She seemed to ignore the voices that we calling out to her as she was fixated on the streaks of smoke that danced in the air, rubbing a tiny area in the glass as if she longed to caress the loaf like a lover.

You couldn't help but crack a smile.

If there was one word that could be used to describe the bakery shop you were working for that word would be 'delicious'.

Or so you wanted to believe.

Your uncle, the owner of the shop and a top baker in Trost, had poured a lot of money to it's renovation after the store was trashed by the breachinf of the walls. It was profoundly evident element in the store that could be found anywhere from the elegant stalls and shelves that were filled with different types of bread and numerous plates of traditional pastries, to the most divine and fine glass that shone on every large window.

The wooden floors were polished to perfection, and twice a day at that, by your uncle's command, and all the tables at the restroom area of the store were cleaned meticulously every single morning. It was a necessary policy of your uncle's; a clean store attracted more customers which meant more income, and thus more independent financial stability for you through a bigger wage. One that you didn't have to split in half with your brother.

Until that day came though, you were stuck with scrubbing and waxing the tables each and every morning.

Wiping down the excess residue of wax, you eyed your brother, noticing how he was setting up loaves of bread neatfully over the caramel brown baskets, carefully making sure he didn't mix up the different breadths of bread. You brother noticed, smiling at you in return and you pointed out to the young brunette whou wouldn't seem to get her face off of your display window.

"She's cute."

"Oh my god Beau, she must be so young you gross little shit."

"The scouts have had their income reduced once again." He announced. "That's why the poor girl is drooling. They're looking for a new bakery to take up their orders too."

"Oh."

"Yeah and uncle said we should do it."

You gave a hard eye with puckered lips to your brother as he voiced that, letting a long sigh escape you. He replied with a side smileand brought his hands to his hair, shipping his locks back before searching for the little hair band in the pocket of his apron. By the time you laid eyes on the small brunette, you noticed that her friends we're accompanying her. You pressed your lips together as you eyed the group of teens, half smiling at them in any case they could see you through the glass. One of them shook his head to the side, shyly blushing as his wide eyes were instantly hidden by his blond bangs.

The were all oggling the display with eyes as wide as the brunettes, You guessed, as your brother had said that they must have been rather hungry; Scouts never really have a big budget nonetheless, and your heart skipped a beat at the paleness on the teenagers' faces, the mere thought of them not having eaten anything for breakfast was more fearful than looking a Titan in the eye.

So, by setting down your table waxing kit, you wiped your hands at your apron and rushed to the small stall that your brother was leaning on.

"Beau, do me a favor and step aside please." You spoke as you marched to him and the hem of your skirt flapped over your ankles.

"Wait, what?"

"I'm feeding the kids."

"(Y/n), they're not stray dogs you know."

"Fine giving them some bread, whatever." You scoffed.

"Uncle's gonna be mad."

"As if I care. I didn't ask to be a baker and work here, plus less loaves means it's on demand."

Your brother sighed at you and slowly shook his head a couple of times. You didn't miss the sly smile that he hid once he burried his face to the palm of his hand, just like he didn't miss the cooking of your eyebrow as you smirked victoriously at him. Taking a complete turn to the opposite direction from the one you were facing you pushed your brother aside and kneeled down to the shelves on the inside of that cashier stall where numerous tote bags laid, folded neatly, ready to accommodate any of your costumer's orders.

You quickly grabbed one, and jounced it open in the air.

Your eyes shot to the teens that still stood before the display, now trying to pull their friend away from it, and hurriedly grabbed a few medium sized loaves in your hands. Once you filled the bag with more loaves than the number of teens you took a quick turn again, your feet stomping the mahogany tiles of the floor underneath you.

"Hello!" Your costumer friendly cheerful voice chatted.

"Ah agagagagagaga!" The brunette from before panicked as she turned to you, her hands stood confused before her chest.

"Hey miss" The tallest of the group, an ashy blond boy, spoke back to you. "We're sorry were standing here like bunch of idiots-"

"Speak for your self Jean! I feel in love with that loaf!"

"Sasha stop being such a glutton!" A girl with ebony hair spoke.

"Oh no it's fine, I just got these for you."

With steady hands a compressee smile on your face you extended the bag to Sasha's direction, the material flapping as it hung from your grip. Sasha's eyes shit wide open, they glimmered with tension and her mouth fell agape as she went to scream at you. Another boy, one with a buzzcut, quickly got his hands on her, linking his elbows inside hers as he wiggled his right palm to her mouth, ready to stop whatever sound the girl wanted to utter.

"Thank you! Please don't give food to Sasha so bluntly, she will bite your hand off." The ashy blonde told you and took a grip of the beige straps of the tote bag. His hand wiggled inside, grabbing a small loaf and he brought it to his nose to smell it before placing it into Sasha's hands.

"You bastars, did you just smell something that was a gift?"

"It smelled good Eren." The boy greeted his teeth.

"Not very accepting of you, she's giving us their most popular bread and the first thing you do is smell it?"

"You've been very annoying today Eren don't test me."

"Eren?" You said, shaking your head in disbelief "Eren Yeager? As in the kid who can turn into a Titan?"

Eren oggled his eyes in yours, marching a foot forward so he could come into a better view and opened his mouth to speak by flapping his lips together. You couldn't help but let out a giggle as you watched Jean roll his eyes at him before taking a step back and tapping Connie's shoulders in order to tell him to unhand Sasha. Any other group of teens would have annoyed you, but these young scouts in particular were known faces of the front lines and over the newspapers at some occasions. You couldn't really hold a grudge to teenagers with issues bigger than yours, you gave them that.

"Yes I am that-"

"Brats."

"I am that brat, what?"

Eren looked around in confusion, questionimg the words that had just left his mouth. You chuckled at him briefly, closing your eyes in the funny of the situation before shooting them open once again as you laid them on the person who had spoke over Eren.

Captain Levi. You almost gasped absurdly loud at the realisation.

Raven hair that shone with a strobe under the early morning light, a porcelain complecion to contrast it, a heart shaped face and narrow almond eyes with thick lashes, a nose that looked like it had been sculped by gods with uttmost delicacy and thin, a pair assymetrical lips that were pressed into a pout. He truly looked better that anyone you had even seen from up close and you found yourself choking with unsaid words as his gunmetal gaze was fixed on you.

"Are you the owner of the store?" He said bluntly, the question reminding you more of a statement.

"Ah, I'm, I'm not! My uncle is and-"

"See I told you he intimidates women!" Connie whispered to Sasha as she stuffed another bite of garlic bread into her mouth, earning a sharp glare from the captain. The duo burst in laughter shortly after the captain turned his gaze from them and you watched as he rolled his eyes at them while digging his lips under his teeth to sink them in his mouth.

"Speak up, my nails don't exactly smell like what you want to say."

You eyed him in confusion, struck by the bluntness of his sarcasm. Still you managed to gather your thoughts with a single inhale. "My uncle is the owner of the bakery, feel free to come in, I'll give fetch him."

"Hm"

With a nod the short man agreed to your proposal, fixing the waist height camel jacket on his chest. It was the beginning of a warm day in Trost, that was for sure and you could see the soldiers around you tense inside their attire slighty. The captain bored his eyes into yours once again as you gestured you to get into the store before him.

Sighing, you entered the the store, giving your brother a wide eyed look before with an awkward smile that vanished in a matter of seconds. You quickly checked to see that the group of teens were lazing out of the bakery, not bothering to follow their captain, as they chit chat they with each other quite loudly.

"Hi, have a seat captain, what can we get you? Something to drink? Or eat? " Your brother greeted from behind the stall, giving the gloomy captain an ear to ear grin.

"Just black tea. Unsweetened."

The captain waved off his hand as he took a seat on a dim lit table and you noticed as his body sank in the chair momentarily. A soft smile over came your features as you stared at him, taking in his bulky form as streaks of light peaked over him, inevitably bathing him in warm morning colors. His finger traced over the table, rubbing softly in a small area as if reluctantly inspecting it.

Of course, you were aware of his antics; many fellow shop owners would compete on who would get to provide captain Levi with his cleaning supplies on his monthly stroll around the town to shop necessities. His mania with cleaning was something that probably unbeknownst to him was a big thing for anyone to his service or even swooning fangirls.

Oh, he had a few of them.

Now, you could see why.

He stood so gloomyon his own, carrying such a mysterious aura around him. With his sleek hand holding the side of his face while being balled up in a tight fist, with his navy gray button down shirt and the knee length boots. Despite being as short as most people said, a fact you were trying to get in your head, because you've only seen him from afar and on his horse, he was still rather bulky, with thighs that were barely restrained by the straps of his gear. With biceps that flexed tight in his jacket.

Shoot, he kind if was a little dreamy, you weren't going to lie.

"Are you going to fetch our uncle or shall I give you a day off to drool over the captain?"

Oh, your brother was always quick to call you out on the bare minimum.

"Fine, fine. I'm off. By the walls."

Okay, yeah, so what if you found the captain a little dreamy, it wasn't going to hurt anyone.

.....

Thinking about your cleaning routine you had concluded that at this point you didn't know if this bakery smelled like the delicious fluffiness of freshly baked bread or sanitary products. People really seemed to compliment you on both nevertheless, whether on individual or collective level. You were simply happy about how most seemed to enjoy their experience at your bakery.

Most, but mostly him.

Captain Levi of the Scouts. He was a regular at your shop for, give or take, three months now. And you couldn't be more happy about it.

Just like today, he was usually dropping by on Mondays, each and every time with a new book in hand, dressed in casually formal attires, that mostly consisted of the same onyx suit and a dress shirt that sat too tight on his petrocals. Your brother would tease you afterwards, making snarkly comments about how you were flirting shamelessly with him, and you'd brush him off with a reply on how unresponsive the man was to anything.

Not convinced with the silly things you told yourself, you brother stood with his back against the bread shelves, grinning victoriously as the little bell of the store rang when the mighty captain slipped inside the store silently. You shit him a glare, a harsh furrowed glare before eyeing the apron that was hanging right next to him. Catching the signal, your brother grabbed the article and rouched it in his hands before tossing it to you.

"The usual?" You smiled slightly at Levi.

"Mhm"

Setting the apron over the bust of your dress, you drag your hands over the cotton front, pinching a few if the ruffles to perfection, then lowering your hands to the small of your back to idle with the straps of the waist in order to tie them in the perfect bow. The heels of your shoes clapped over the mahogany tiles of the floor as you run to the small kitchenette behind that cashier stall, just a few meters away from where your brother stood.

You bent down, then back up, examining the hangers in the area with a cocked eyebrow. Just where were your oven gloves?

"His apple pie is here," You brother said and you clapped a hand over your mouth "I took it out of the oven while you were drooling at him."

"No, oh my god! Is it baked?"

"Would I taken it out if it wasn't?"

You didn't reply. Instead, you chose to fixate your attention at the jars of tea that rested on the top shelf of the kitchenette. The choices weren't many, of course, your store wasn't exactly a tea shop or a coffee shop, the small variety of beverages you had only existed in order to help people digest their pastries better. Nothing too fancy. Yet, for Levi, you had spent days collecting some of the chamomile outside your house, you had tried drying red forests fruits, hell you had even tried making jasmine tea for him.

And for what?

Maybe the look on his face when you'd present him with a new tea blend was all the satisfaction you could use. Actually, that was the only thing it should be; the happiness of a service worker as their costumer enjoyed consuming their product, the fact that it made them come back, maybe the fact that despite not liking sweets they welcomed your pastries without objection.

But it wasn't just that. You knew, your brother knew, maybe even Levi knew and he pitied you.

You had fallen in love with Captain Levi. You had tried your best to supress it, to put it in a box, lock it and dig a hole twenty feet under the ground and bury it so light wouldn't see it again. Him and you weren't possible and you were more than aware ever since the very first day. Still, you had found him becoming so familiar to you in the little times you had seen him that you felt like you couldn't help yourself.

"Are you going to stand there for long? The kettle has been whistling for a long while now."

"Uhh, yes, yeah."

Shaking your thoughts out of your head you fixed your eyes on the whistling kettle. You took another step closer to it and since there wasn't any heat protecting glove in sight, you grabbed the length of your apron in your hand before wrapping your palm around the mettalic handle. You poured the hot water carefully into a large porcelain teapot, through the small almond tea brew that you had previously arranged onto the infuser.

"Don't have that face..."

"What face?" You asked nonchalantly and places the teapot on a tray, right next to the small pot of apple pie.

"You know.. the face... the I'm sad about my boyfriend face."

"I don't have that face." You snarled "and he's not my boyfriend. Shut up before he can hear you."

Walking to a glass shielded cupboard, you slid the little door open and grabbed a matching cup to the teapot, setting it too onto the tray. From the corner of your eye you watched as your brother sighed and shook his head disappointed in you, but you brushed it off quickly; you just wanted to give Levi his order, you'd have all day to endure your brother's teasing after the man of your desire left.

"Hello"

Levi's eyes shimmered as light splashed onto them; the little blue circles on the outer edge of his irises shone a different hue today, one that didn't accentuate the darkness of his eyebags, though it still was enigh to merge with how soft his time was to you.

"Hi" You pressed your lips together "here you go, almond tea and your apple pie."

"Ah, ye-yes, the apple, the apple pie."

Was he, by any chance, stuttering?

You glanced to the left and then to the right, then back to Levi again. Pressing your hand to his forehead didn't seem like a good idea, mostly because you respected his personal space and also because the man was quite fond of being obsessed over cleaningness and maybe your hands weren't clean enough for his standards. Or it could also be that you were overall too awestruck to do anything other than lean down closer to him, bum popping in the air, as your knees remained unbent.

"Is everything alright Captain?"

Had you been dense, you would have missed the way his eyes were magnetized by the action, and consequentially get back to your standing position. Levi quickly cleared his throat though and closed his eyes, brushing the happening off as if it had never happened.

"Yes, I'm, I'm good, just a little" He cough again "Isn't it a bit warm here?"

"Ah, yes, I mean it is a furnace. Anyways I'll leave you to your book."

"No you're welcome to-" Levi begun and his hand traced over the black leather cover of the book.

"What was that?"

"I said, you're welcome. And call me Levi, cut the shitty formalities."

As you turned on your heels to walk to your brother, you felt your heart skip not one, but numerous beats. Quickly, you left the tray on the counter before your brother and rushed to the back room of the store, desperate to hide the embarrassing joy you were feeling. You squatted down on a dim lit spot just behind a few sacks of flour and buried your face in your hands.

Nonetheless you sighed, setting your gaze at one sack of flour before you that was filled to the top, hoping the the neat white color would help you calm down. Why did it have to even be like this? With a deep sigh you put your hands over your knees and unbent them, your body willingly standing up as you wiped your eyebrow with the flat of your palm.

Your head was probably throbbing just as much as your heart.

You felt guilty that you experienced such emotions in the first place. You had been too eager to wear your heart upon your sleeve when it came to Levi that you ignored that most of your interactions rolled as awkwardly as this one.

Maybe that's why he stuttered.

Maybe he even had someone he had feelings for just like you had for him.

Maybe..

Maybe...

Maybe....

You kept repeating the word inside your head until it became a mushy pile of goo that stuck to a crevice of your mind and prevented it from functioning correctly. All you knew was that you had to finish baking the weekly amount loaves the scouts had ordered you. And that's what you set as your task. With your uncle nowhere near the store at this -ungodly for him- hour you walked to the enormous tin in which he kept the dough you were looking for.

All you had to do was shape it into loaves and bake it. Easy and soul mending.

It should be something that could keep your mind off of him for a long while.

.....

The sun shone a bright orange as it spilled from the small windows of the room, bathing the the enormous amount of loaves you had baked as they rested inside the deckles you had placed them in. The warmth of this evening was beyond bearable and combined with the heat of the furnace you could feel your cheeks going numb to the excessive heat.

A droplet of sweat run down your forehead, lukewarm as it was when it formed to the top of your hairline, freshening up a little ribbon over your skin. With the back of your hand covered by the edge of your apron you wiped it away, leaving your skin complaining over the harsh, erratic movement.

"I think your boyfriend is waiting for you."

You turned your head to your left when you heard the tomed down voice. Your brother, was leaning against doorframe of the workshop, his hands crossed and pressed sturdily across his chest, his hip pressing against the casing of the door. There was this warm expression all over his face, that little teasing glimmer that flickeres in his eyes as the light of the sunset painted him orange as well.

"For the last time," You furrowed your brows and looked away. "he's not my boyfriend. And he's free to stay here for as long as he wants."

"Please with how slow things between him and you are going I'm going to have to ask him to ask for your hand in marriage."

Just what you needed.

"Beau. No."

"(Y/n). Yes." He smiled at you once you rolled your eyes "Anyways, he's waiting to help you get the loaves to the Scouts Headquarters. Because I have a date to attend to."

You didn't speak, you didn't even throw your brother a glance as the words left his mouth. You simply furrowed your brows together painfully over your shut eyes and puckered your lips. Your hands reached to your bum, wiping down any residue of flour to the pleats of your skirt ithout giving it a second thought.

"Fine. I hope this isn't one of your match making tricks."

Your brother smiled and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. You already knew what his answer was going to be.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

....

The big wooden table that hung from the balcony above it read "Uncle Ben's leather goods" in a big, cursive font, and by the looks of it, Levi had stopped by to retrieve something commissioned for him by his squad. You curiously peaked once or twice inside the store, as you leaned over the cart, the tips of your fingers rubbing lines along the thick wooden borders.

Had you taken the shortcut you had suggested the trip to the headquarters was no more than ten minutes. This evening though, since you were accompanied by the captain himself, taking a shortcut wasn't exactly a preferable option in your agenta, thus, you hadn't insisted on it.

When he finally exited the store with a tote bag hanging from his shoulder you realised you hadn't spent a lot of time waiting for him, still the little commotion in your heart begged you to cease every single moment you had alone with him

"Okay, time to head off to the headquarters" You said with a soft smile.

Levi hummed in response and walked to the back side of the cart. With steady hands he pressed onto it, his fingers flexing onto the metallic handles. He hung his head low, his shaggy bangs waving over his eyes a little before he turned his head again to look at you. Gunmetal orbs fell into yours with serenity, blinking ever so slowly.

"You seem to be into reading, Levi." You said, your eyes being the first ones to look away.

"Ah, yes, I couldn't enjoy reading in the past thus I am doing so now."

You found yourself in loss of words for the thousandth time this evening. You didn't know what exactly you had to say to that, seeing you had heard rumors about him being a former thug, though in your best judgment that would be an intensitive subject to bring up. Immediately, your brother came to your mind, he would not hesitate to pester you for days you if you didn't make any progress over crush now, would he?

Maybe asking for his favorite literature genre was the way to go with this.

"What's your favorite gen-"

"Can I tell you somethin-"

Levi blinked his eyes rapidly into yours and you giggled slightly at his confused face. The ravenette stared back and forth between the two of you with puckered lips, wondering who shall speak first.

"Go ahead Levi."

"The almond tea you're serving me is rather good. Care to tell me how to make it on my own?"

A shy smile came over you, still you felt the need to conceal it. You could see the headquarters peaking from the other buildings in the background, the cobblestone color of the building contrasting the violet of the sky only ever so slightly. You didn't have that much time left with Levi and that was a fact, so now wasn't the time to get all shy.

"I'll bring you a jar next week then. Just a small one though, or not!"

"No?" Levi said and cocked an eye brow at you.

His eyes were fixated on you again, his features bearing a soft expression that you couldn't exactly pinpoint, still it spread a little warmth inside you. Instinctively you run your eyes over your outfit. The only thing you found was as perfect as it was when you left your house in the morning was the top of your dress. You slightly fixed the cord that was holding the corset part of your dress tied, tucking it into where it had escaped from.

You didn't let him know you caught him staring, but by the way he was looking at you, maybe he didn't have a certain someone among the scouts.

Or were you just seeing what you wanted?

"Of course not, I'm not about to lose a regular at my store."

"A regular huh?" Levi questioned with that nasal undertone of his

You looked at the sky before you went to answer him. The evening breeze smeeled wondrously, mixed with the mouth watering aroma of the slightly season with garlic and poppy seeds bread, you could even say it was heavenly. The air wasn't as heavy and awkward as you had expected, rather, Levi was in a somewhat playful mood if you could place it correctly.

It struck you that he might have been like that because he was feeling the change in the atmosphere as well.

"Would you like to be more than a regular?" You paused "shoot never mind that"

"What was that? More than a regular?"

"Yes, a super regular!" You smiled slyly.

"If you keep spurting entertaining crap like that more often I might be tempted to become one."

Without realising it, you found yourself gaining confidence over the little territory you had conquered in the captain's mind. Every step you took that lead ultimately led you to the Headquarters was a proof of that. Levi seemed to be as bummed as you, he seemed to be flustered like a teen whose date had ended, you could see it now for some reason.

And when it came to you, your feet weren't shaky anymore, your voice wasn't the squeaky polite voice you'd put on for strangers. This was the first time in a long while where you felt like you could be yourself in Levi's presence and you couldn't help but hope there would be more instances like this.

"Here we are."

"Yes, here we are." Levi sighed, turning his face to look at you.

"I uhm, I'll help you get those in."

"No need to, I'll have the brats sweat for it, I haven't tortured them in a long while."

You couldn't help but laugh a little at that comment, though the bubbling sound died down immediately, bowing before the reality of your current situation. Your stroll around Trost had come to end. What an unfair way for your little walk to die.

Nevertheless your chest rose and fell as you looked at Levi, your heart pulping hard inside your chest. Heat rushed just under your skin, stinging you in millions of places at once as you contemplated on what to say next. You were going to speak, and very soon at that, just omge you found the words to do so.

"I'd like to see you again." You spoke, though you doubted this was the right choice of words.

"You see me every single week."

"Not like that!"

"Tch, then?" He clicked his tongue.

Your stomach turned. It twisted and turned and tied itself in a horrid knot; you couldn't just not panic. At his cocked brow, the little press of his lips, the way his eyes remained narrowed as the glared at you. On no, this was your doom for being bold before, wasn't it?

"Like this, but, without the bread."

You didn't miss the way his eyes softened at your words, frankly because it was a rather beautiful sight. The little creases of his eyes overlaoped each other, narrowing his gaze with a mellow tint that was gone as soon as you blinked. It only made you feel like you shouldn't blink again as to not miss his small reactions.

"Hmh, that can be arranged."

Honestly, you couldn't wait until then.

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @ackermans-freedom-inc @melancholicmonologue @ladyofpandemonium @levisbrat25 @hawkssnugget @berrijam @lzrers @levisbrat25 @callmepromise

[drabbles-mc]

One of Them Girls

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request by @lakamaa12: I have a request.. if you don't want to do it, no worries (or it's been done by another blog and I missed it).I was wondering if you would consider writing something with Angel based around the song One of Them Girls by Lee Brice?

(Part 2 can be found Here)

Warnings: language, alcohol, Angel being the cutie we know he is

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: To the best of my knowledge, no one else has written an Angel fic for this song yet! If you have and I didn’t see it, my bad! But real talk I’ve been obsessed with this song lately and I wanted to write a fic for it so I’m super glad you sent this my way. Hope you enjoy! xo

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @amandinesblogofstuff @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction @encounterthepast @lilacyennefer @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ (If you want to be tagged let me know! xo)

Your roommate had been trying for months to get you to go to one of the MC parties with her. She knew them from working at Vicki’s and she swore that you would have a good time if you just came to the clubhouse with her.

“Just for a couple hours,” she pleaded as she stood in the doorway to your room, “and if you’re really not having a good time, we can leave and I’ll never bother you about it again. Promise.”

You sighed, leaning your head back against your headboard, “Fine. Just so you won’t bother me about it anymore.”

She beamed, “Yes! Oh this is gonna be so fun,” you could practically see the thoughts racing through her head, “Wear those skinny jeans that make your butt look good.”

You groaned, “You’re gonna dress me, too?”

She laughed, “It’s just a friendly suggestion.”

It was a suggestion that you begrudgingly took her up on. She really wasn’t that pushy about what to wear, but she knew that she was able to nudge you out of your comfort zone a little bit sometimes. You’d ended up with a simple, low-cut black tank top, the jeans she had suggested, and a pair of black boots. You weren’t going to risk snapping your ankle in a pair of heels when you didn’t know what you’d be walking into.

Elena may have been persistent, but she was a woman of her word. She stayed by you when you first arrived, knowing the scene was a little overwhelming when you first walk into it. You weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting, but this wasn’t quite what you had pictured in your mind. It was a little tamer, a little less chaotic than your brain had been telling you it would be.

“C’mon,” she tugged you towards the bar, “I’ll get you a beer.”

“Elena, who are all these people?” you asked quietly as you scanned the room.

She started pointing out the members of the MC one by one, telling you their names and a few fun facts about each. Some of the facts were a little more information than you cared to know, but she got you to laugh. Some of the girls you recognized because they’d come over and hang out at your apartment sometimes, and it was nice to know that you knew more than just one person at the party. They said there was power in numbers, right?

“Hey, querida,” a voice piped up from behind the two of you.

Elena turned, a smile instantly spreading across her face as she walked up to the man who had been speaking to her and letting him scoop her up in a hug, “Angel, hey!”

He set her down and his eyes found their way over to you. You felt small under the weight of his gaze but you tried not to let it show. He glanced back to Elena, “You brought a friend?”

She laughed, nodding, “Angel, this is my roommate, and best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Angel, the biggest pain in the ass in the MC.”

He placed a hand over his chest, an exaggeratedly pained expression on his face, “Right to my heart.”

The three of you laughed and you shook your head slightly, the nerves beginning to dissipate a little bit. You weren’t expecting him to plop down on the stool next to yours, but he did. You looked over to Elena, as if to ask if you should be worried about anything. She flashed you a smile as she sat down on the other side of you, giving your arm a light, reassuring squeeze as she reached for her drink.

“So what questionable decisions led you here tonight?” he asked with a laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Just throwing Elena a bone. She’s been wanting me to come here with her for a while.”

“Didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of degenerates?” there was a playful smirk on his face.

You smiled, “More like I didn’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of people in general,” you laughed, “I’m a bit of a homebody.”

“I’m working on that,” Elena piped in with a smile.

The three of you sat at the bar and talked for a little while. You could tell that Angel was trying to get a read on you, the new girl. You couldn’t be mad because you were doing the same thing to him. He was smooth, flirtatious, but not overbearingly so. That was a game you’d be willing to play for the night while you pacified your friend. If you were going to be forced to socialize, there were worse people to look at while doing it.

Elena must’ve gotten the vibe from you, because she politely excused herself from the conversation, letting you know that she wouldn’t be far if you decided that you wanted to bail and go home. You saw the smirk tugging at her lips as she walked away though, knowing that you were having a much better time there than you’d ever admit.

“So I gotta know,” Angel asked as he idly toyed with the beer bottle in his hands, “how does a homebody like you end up rooming with Miss “Life of the Party” Elena?”

You laughed, trying not to stare at the way his ringed fingers traced and curled around the neck of his beer bottle, “We actually had a few classes together our first year in college,” you shook your head, “Nothing bonds two people together like suffering through statistics classes together.”

He chuckled, “Fuck that.”

“That was exactly how we felt.”

The longer the two of you talked, the more he tested his boundaries. He wasn’t pushy, or inappropriate, but he was definitely trying to figure out what made you tick. You weren’t going to give him that kind of satisfaction so quickly, though. You bantered back and forth with him, and you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had you laughing so hard.

Angel was in the middle of an incredibly cheesy pickup line that he swore has worked for him before when the song coming through the speakers changed. You couldn’t help but to perk up a little bit at the familiar beat and Angel noticed the shift immediately. He watched you for a moment as he tried to feel out the situation.

“Wanna dance?”

You shook your head no with zero hesitation, “No thank you.”

He laughed, “C’mon, why not? Live a little.”

You smiled but didn’t move to get up from your stool, “I’m sure there are plenty of women here tonight that would love to dance with you, Angel.”

He didn’t push the topic any further. You were smiling but he could see the flash of emotion in your eyes and he knew that there was something there that you weren’t ready to tap into yet with him. So, instead, he got you another beer and delved back into his cheesy pickup line story. When you realized that he was going to move past what you just said and not make it awkward, the tension immediately melted out of your body. You gladly took the beer bottle from him as you listened him ramble into another story.

“Yo, Angel,” Coco called from the pool table, “get over here. Bring your friend, we need two more.”

“You play pool?” Angel asked you, curious to your answer.

You shrugged as you hopped off the stool, “I mean I know how to.”

He laughed as he followed you across the clubhouse, “That’s not a super reassuring answer, querida.”

“Man, fuck him. You can be on my team,” Coco said with a laugh, “He and Gilly can fend for themselves.”

There was something reassuring and welcoming about the way that Coco spoke to you—like he had known you for years. He handed you your pool stick, smile still plastered onto his face. This wasn’t how you had originally pictured your night going, but you weren’t upset about it.

About halfway through the game, Angel was pissed that he didn’t try to team up with you. You and Coco were on a hot-streak and he really didn’t expect that from you. He shook his head as you sank another shot, and you had to laugh at the way that Coco was able to effectively gloat with just a simple look thrown Angel’s way.

“I mean I know how to,” Angel mocked you with a laugh as he shook his head, watching you line up to take another shot, “Can’t believe you fuckin’ hustled me.”

You laughed, “I don’t think you can call it hustling if there’s no money involved. You’re just mad because we’re about to whoop your ass.”

He chuckled and glanced over at Coco, “Don’t look so smug, Coco. She’s fuckin’ carrying you right now.”

The game wrapped up quickly with you and Coco both doing so well. Gilly had been more than content to sit back and watch it all happen, reveling in the fact that someone, and someone new at that, was kicking Angel’s ass at pool. Angel was shaking his head as he set his stick aside, still trying to figure out how all of that just happened. For someone who claimed that they didn’t like going out and doing things, you seemed to be full of surprises.

“Since I am a gracious winner,” you said with a laugh as you let Coco put your stick away, “I’ll buy you all a drink.”

Angel went to protest, not wanting you to be buying anything for any of them, but Gilly slapped his chest to stop him. The look on Gilly’s face made it very evident that no matter how cute the girl was, none of them were about to be turning down free drinks. Angel laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

As the night wore on, slowly but surely people began to trickle out of the clubhouse. You hadn’t really talked to Elena since you got wrapped up playing pool with the guys, but the two of you kept an eye on one another. Every now and then she’d shoot you a look, one that asked if you needed to get out, and you would just shake your head. She’d smile, sometimes throw you a wink, before getting wrapped back up into whatever she was doing. You knew that she was just glad to get you out of the house and socializing with people.

You and Angel were sitting next to each other on the couch talking, keeping your conversation low in the midst of music and noise still filling the clubhouse. You were shaking your head at him as he told you about some of the scrapes he’d gotten into with his brother, someone that you knew you’d also love to sit and have a conversation with eventually.

Elena walked up and gave you a nudge, smiling when you turned to her, “Not trying to rush you, but I think a couple of the girls and I are gonna head out. You want me to bring you home before I go with them?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to leave. But she was your ride, so it wasn’t like you were going to have much of a choice. Just as you were about to speak up and say you’d get ready to leave, Angel interrupted, “I can take you home if you want.”

You glanced back at him, arching one eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yea,” he shrugged, smiling, “I don’t mind.”

Elena bit at her bottom lip, trying to fight back a smile, “You good with that, Y/N?”

You nodded, “Yea, I think so,” you laughed, “Worst case scenario I have pepper spray in my bag.”

“Jesus,” Angel laughed.

Elena shook her head with a grin as she leaned down to kiss your cheek, “Text me when you’re home. Love you.”

“Love you too. Text when you get to wherever the hell you guys are all going,” you chuckled.

“Will do,” she turned and hugged Angel, “Get her home safe, or I’ll beat your ass.”

He nodded, trying hard not to laugh because he knew that she was serious, “Yes ma’am.”

When she was gone and it was just the two of you again, things felt a little different. You suddenly became very aware of the way that his arm was draped over the back of the couch, his fingers almost brushing against your shoulder. Despite the number of people that were still in the clubhouse, it felt like it was just you two left. Everything else felt farther away.

“Can I ask where you’re from?” he leaned in a little closer to you and took a sip of his beer, “Because I feel like you’re not from around here.”

You smiled, shaking your head, “I’m not. I’m from the East Coast—came out this way for college,” you laughed, “Very cliché, I know.”

“Ah, you’re one of them girls, huh?”

“Who are them girls?” you chuckled.

“Had to get the hell outta dodge?”

You smiled and nodded, not really wanting to get into the details of your decisions, “Something like that.”

“You musta broke a lot of hearts when you left,” there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed, “Wouldn’t know—haven’t been back to find out.”

Somewhere along the line of your conversation, the two of you had gotten very comfortable. You had your legs pulled up underneath you as you leaned into him, his hand resting lightly on the nape of your neck. Every now and then when you laughed your hand would come to rest on his thigh for a moment or two before you pulled it back to your own body. He wasn’t bold enough to say it but he wished that you’d leave it there.

There was a brief lull in the conversation and you looked around the clubhouse, seeing that the two of you were some of the last people there. You checked your phone, seeing that you had gotten the safety update from your roommate almost an hour before and hadn’t noticed from being so enthralled with Angel.

“You got that look on your face like you gotta get going,” Angel said knowingly.

You sighed, “Yea, unfortunately I still have to go and do life stuff tomorrow,” there was a hint of laughter to your voice.

His thumb traced idly along the exposed skin at the base of your neck, “We can take the bike, if you want.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment, “I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He chuckled as he rose to his feet, helping you to do the same, “Something tells me you’ll be fine.”

The two of you walked out of the clubhouse, Angel’s hand settling on the small of your back. The chilly night air hit your skin and sent a chill through you. Without a second thought, Angel peeled off his sweatshirt that he’d put on and handed it over to you. You started to shake your head no but he wordlessly pushed the hoodie into your hands. You gave in with a smile, pulling it down over your head. It was warm, and you were practically swimming in the fabric, but you didn’t mind.

He let you use his helmet, and you settled behind him after climbing onto the bike. Your hands were lightly resting on his waist and he pulled your arms tighter around him, causing you to press flush up against his back.

“Don’t be shy, querida,” he chuckled, “For your own safety as much as anything else.”

You laughed, thankful that he couldn’t see the sheepish smile on your face as you let your body rest against his. The bike came to life underneath you and you nervously wrapped your arms a little tighter around him, and you could feel him laughing despite the fact that you couldn’t hear him over the noise of the bike.

Slowly you eased into the ride, your nerves subsiding a little bit. Angel must’ve felt the tension dissipating because he picked up the speed a little bit, causing you to laugh and tighten your hold on him. You knew that Angel knew the way to yours and Elena’s apartment, so you knew that he was taking the long way there. As much as you wanted to call him out on it, you didn’t want him to think that you minded. It was a peaceful, freeing feeling to be riding with him.

He rolled to a stop in front of your apartment building. You hopped off the bike, handing him back his helmet. The two of you stood there and you knew that he could feel the same type of tension in the air that you felt. For a night that you really hadn’t been looking forward to, it was the best time that you’d had in a while.

You went to take his sweatshirt off to give back to him but he shook his head at you, “Nah, keep it.”

“You sure?”

He nodded with a smirk on his face, “Yea. Just give it back next time I see you.”

You smiled, “Next time? Who said I’m coming back to the clubhouse?”

He laughed and shook his head, “Damn, you and Elena are both out to keep my ego in check, huh?”

“It’s good for you,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the fact that you felt nervous, trying to figure out how to say goodnight.

“But really,” he stepped in a little closer to you, forcing you to tilt your head up slightly to look him in the eye, “I’d really like to be able to see you again.”

You managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds, just long enough to make him nervous. You could see him racing to try and come up with a follow-up statement to get himself out of being rejected, and you let yourself smile as you nodded, “I’d like that.”

He let out an audible sigh of relief, “Had me worried for a second,” he chuckled.

You laughed, shaking your head, “Can’t make it too easy for you.”

He smiled, “Can I have your number? Or do I gotta level up for that?”

You rolled your eyes as you held your hand out, “Give me your phone before I change my mind.”

He chuckled as he dug it out of his pocket and pressed it into the palm of your hand. He watched you intently as you plugged your number in, smiling as you handed it back to him, “This your real number? Or one of those rejection hotlines?”

You smirked, “Guess you’ll have to call me and find out. One time I gave some dude the number that would just play the John Cena theme song over and over again. That was…peak rejection.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring for me, you get that, right?” he laughed.

You smiled and shook your head, “It’s my real number, promise,” you stood up on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Thanks for bringing me home.”

He couldn’t hide that he was surprised by the gesture. A huge smile spread across his face as he nodded, “Yea, any time.”

“Get home safe.”

He nodded, “I will,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you crossed your arms over your chest, trapping the heat against your body as you watched him get back on his bike and strap his helmet on. He flashed you another smile and you waved him off.

You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned around and made your way into your building. The walk up to your apartment seemed much shorter as you replayed the night over in your head. You turned the key in the lock and stepped in, glad to be home but simultaneously wishing that the night wasn’t over yet. You showered and threw your pajamas on, falling into your bed with a happy sigh. After shutting the light off and settling in underneath your blanket, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. You reached over to see who it was, and smiled when you saw a message waiting for you from a new number.

“Home safe. Sweet dreams” after a few seconds a second text came in, “It’s Angel by the way”

You chuckled as you typed out your reply, ‘Thanks for the clarification. Got worried for a second”

“Just tryna be sweet and you can’t let me have it, can you?”

“Nope” you were laughing in the quiet darkness of your room.

“Alright. Sweet nightmares then. Goodnight”

You could picture his face and you couldn’t stop smiling, “Goodnight xo”

You set your phone off to the side again, settling back down underneath your covers. Your body wanted to sleep but your brain was too busy replaying the entire night over again and you couldn’t stop smiling.

[kuroos-moon]

Captains and Strong Independent S/o’s

☁︎︎ request:  Oikawa, Kuroo and either Bokuto or Ushijima (I cant choose!) reacting to a (fem or g/n) reader who does some type of martial art and they’re kinda tough/strong and (maybe they’re the team manager and they don’t take no shit) and the captains kinda crush on them for it? (I like to imagine Oikawa having a tough gf who stops Iwa from being mean to him and jokingly threatens Iwa that if he wants to hurt Tohru he has to go through her

☁︎︎ pairing: oikawa x reader, kuroo x reader, ushijima x reader

☁︎︎ warning/s: swearing, felt a bit of angst while writing for ushijima’s idk why tho it might just be my imagination :> 

☁︎︎ a/n: also dont know if it’s obvious but i kinda got carried away with ushijima’s 

Oikawa Tohru

• is a smug little shit every time you’re with him or in the same room at least 

• like,, he could piss Iwa-chan off to death and he won’t get hurt for it? now this is what he calls power

• sincerely loves and adores you, but at first, he kinda got sad that you’re so self-sufficient, you practically don’t need him 

• but he’s now long accepted that you’re just so you… and in your relationship, it’s you who does the protecting and looking out by a whole lot (ofc it doesn’t mean he loves you less) 

• that’s why he gets so so soft when he gets his turn in being the person who’s leaned on

• as their manager, he loves how you get things done so effectively, even Kyotani bows down to you, as he should—he always says in his head, smiling as he looks at the feral boy getting flustered around you  

• he listens to you all the time and we all know Tohru backing down is so rare 

“Oy, you’re overdoing it, let’s go.” 

“Head home without me, Iwa-chan,” he mutters mindlessly as he screws up another serve, a scowl on his face as he bends down to get another ball; but he freezes at an instant upon Iwaizumi’s words—no, Iwaizumi’s threat.

“Suit yourself, I’ll call y/n.” 

Oikawa has never changed stance so quickly in his life, cleaning up the gym as he sends smiles to his best friend’s way every five seconds, hoping he won’t tell on him on his cute but scary girl who could easily kick him unconscious. 

• he uses your name to threaten anyone who wants to cross him and they will back down immediately

• also likes to show off because he knows you treasure him so much; he likes to be babied by you especially in front of others 

“y/n-chan c’mere,” he softly says, whining a bit. The rest of his team look at the both of you in astonishment as you take the captain in your arms, Tohru’s cheek on your shoulder, looking back at the bewildered look on his teammate’s faces while you sit side by side on the bench. 

They could never get used to someone as tough as you having such the softest spot for Shittykawa… like how could you even stand him? 

“Really tired,” he mumbles, a small smile on his lips when you run your fingers through his hair. “I know, you were great as always, let’s head home so you could rest.” 

“Y/n-chan, today, Iwa-chan hit my head when you were out to get water. It really hurt,” he says, still in your embrace as he smirks at his teammates. 

Their mouths fall open, Iwaizumi’s eye twitching in irritation for his shitty best friend. 

“And Maki-chan…” Hanamaki grits his teeth, looking at him pleadingly in panic as his mind runs through everything he did today, wondering what he could’ve done to your beloved. “He ate my milk bread; I was really hungry.” 

Yup, Maki and Iwaizumi knew there was hell to pay, gulping in unison when you pull away from your boyfriend and narrow your eyes at them. 

“Iwa-chan. I thought we agreed you weren’t hitting Tohru again.” 

A chill runs down his spine, Tohru simply looks at you with pride, pulling you into his lap as he wraps his arms around your waist before you get the chance to throw hands at Iwaizumi.

Kuroo Tetsuro

• loves loves LOVES your remarks, your attitude, the way you take no crap from anyone, like “ah, he’s scared shitless, that’s my girl” 

• dw, you’re not a thug or anything, but men who force their feelings on you will see heaven’s gates early 

• and kuroo’s so pleased about it. sure, he’d love to get the chance to act all cool and brooding and possessive in front of other suitors but what’s more fun is watching their dejected faces as you say—

• “how many times do I have to turn you down? I have my tetsuro, now back the fuck off or I’ll break your nose.” 

• you had no idea he was just outside your classroom waiting for you, arms crossed and a cocky grin stretching his lips when you lock eyes with him

• “chibi-chan!” he calls off cheerily, and you bet he’ll tease you about it til death do you part 

• “don’t just stand there, give your tetsuro a hug!” 

• laughs about how your friendly banters with yamamoto always end up with you winning the argument 

• you rub off as mean bc you won’t take any disrespect, even a little—and that’s great

• those are one of the things he loves about you 

• but he’s always worried you might get hurt or hated for it, though he knows you are very much capable of beating anyone up even kuroo himself

• so he’s always holding you back, and I can’t stress this enough, but this man knows you could fend for yourself and he is so proud you’re his partner 

• he just wants to make certain that no one’ll hurt you, okay kitten? 

• your conversations often go like this: 

“I’ll beat up whoever tries to lay a hand on me.” 

“don’t say such reckless things, you’re not superman.”

“uhuh, geez, I’ll be fine, I don’t need you to walk me home.” 

“well news flash, your tetsuro, needs his y/n to walk him ho—ow,” he mutters when you slap his chest. 

“go home with kenma.”

“I don’t want kenma,” he scowls, already irked that this is turning into an argument.

“too bad,” you deadpan.  

“ugh,” he groans, “imagine a girlfriend who actually listens to you, just imagine.” 

• he is the one and only person you’ll gladly accept lectures from, bc his lectures are always reasonable and for your own good

after checking and verifying that you were completely okay, you knew he was about to go down to business. 

“you got into a fight? What are you? a thug?” he crosses his arms. You were both inside the gym along with the rest of his teammates who looked like they were far too preoccupied to listen. They were all clearly listening in though, except Kenma of course.  

watching your figures from a few feet away, it was obvious that he was scolding you, and Lev already had a ridiculous visualization of you hitting Kuroo. Everyone was worried you’ll fight him, or maybe even hit him, well, everyone except Kenma, of course. 

The setter knew that you would never ever lay a hand on kuroo as if the 6’1 captain was fragile. He also knew that you loved and respected kuroo too much to actually get agitated just because he was scolding you, you aren’t an unreasonable person. Lastly, he knew that kuroo would be going soft on you in five minutes tops, his best friend is hopeless like that. 

Kenma was right, he always is. Your back is glued to the wall behind you, Kuroo’s hand beside your head, his face extremely close to yours that you’re left flustered which is rare. 

After you were rambling on about how you had to put that girl in her place, going off about how it made you so mad and he should cut you some slack, he knew just how to shut you up. And it worked. You’re speechless. 

“what was that again, hm? go on, you surely had a lot to say,” he mutters, acting all tough as if he wasn’t dying to just kiss you now. when you don’t respond and stare at him and his lips instead, he already gives in. yes, just like that. “you were wrong to do that, okay?” he breathes, the worry from earlier on making its way out through his voice. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

Locking lips with you, you pull him closer to yourself, and kuroo had purposely decided to kabedon you on this wall since his broad back would be shielding the two of you from his teammates’ line of sight. 

After pulling away, he pats your head, licking his lips. “I forgive you, I’m not mad anymore.” You look away in embarrassment, realizing how petty you must’ve seemed to him. He sighs before hugging you, chin atop your head. 

“Make this the last time, okay? I swear you’re shortening my lifespan having me worried all the time.” 

You hug him tighter as a response, kuroo letting out a breath of contentment. Regardless of how tough you are outside; you are and always will be his soft little kitten and it was his greatest honor that you allow him to take care of you like this. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi

• is probably a little too used to the idea of his most treasured girlfriend being extremely capable and self-sufficient 

• his teammates would always look at him like ‘why are you not stepping in,’ every time you’re in a tough spot i.e. having an argument with someone or having a too-touchy suitor 

• then they’d be like “oh, that’s why,” after you flung the despicable creature out to space 

• he thinks so highly of you, not only are you physically strong, you’re even tougher on the inside too

• this is kinda a given but I’ll say it anyway—he can be unintentionally insensitive (well your relationship is kinda new)

• example no 1: 

you were arguing with goshiki and while he would normally like to ignore you and let you have your way; he was getting annoyed bc the argument was far too petty. 

“I’m gonna surpass him!” 

“and I’m telling you that you ca-

your mouth is clamped with a big hand, and it took you only a second to realize it was Wakatoshi because only he would have the nerve to lay a hand on you like this. he still doesn’t say anything, dragging you with him in an empty hallway for privacy.

finally after you stopped walking, he turns to you and looks at you expectantly. “what was that for? Did you even wash your hand,” you mutter, slightly annoyed. 

“I haven’t touched the ball yet, don’t worry,” he lowly says, making you sulk because he totally missed your point. “still, you didn’t have to make me shut up by clamping your hand against my mouth.” He’s too… not gentle with you sometimes. 

“you were going to say something you shouldn’t to goshiki.”

“he said something he shouldn’t have.” 

he only narrows his eyes at you and you do the same, anyone from your class would’ve been scared at the sight. You were both known as the cutest yet intimidatingly scary couple. 

• you were in the early stages of dating and though you understood each other well, it wasn’t really enough yet

• it’s all good though, because once you tell him that he was too uncaring of you and your feelings he does something that no other man would do: 

• apologize, admit his mistake, reflect on it a lot and,,, actually change!! 

• he’s much softer to you after that, and he finally realizes that you were still his precious girl and you were sensitive when it came to him 

• cursed himself for being too reliant on how you never seemed sensitive or needy

• doesn’t dwell too much on regret, just treats you 100x times better 

• is fascinated with your passion for martial arts but is against you overdoing training

• one time, he was torn between dragging you out of practice or just turning a blind eye to your visible exhaustion since you’re always so tough anyway, you’ll manage 

• but then he remembers his promise to himself to never treat you like you aren’t the most special person to him so he excuses himself from practice and heads to your training room 

you sat alone, your back to the wall. everyone else has gone home but you stayed because your muscles were too sore and you felt like you couldn’t even walk for another day. maybe it had something to do with how you’ve been training too much. 

you’re startled upon seeing shoes on the floor you blankly stared at, looking up to meet eyes with Ushijima. “Wakatoshi,” you say in surprise. 

he is expressionless as he bends down across you between your legs, and you had to admit this was something you weren’t used to from him. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft as velvet. you’re taken aback by his question, looking away in embarrassment. 

Wakatoshi rarely asks you that, and most of the time it was only when you said the word ‘ow’ when you accidentally hit something. you clear your throat, bringing your hands together to play with your fingers, “I’m okay.” 

it was silent for a few seconds before you hear him sigh, not only that, warm, gentle hands had found its way to yours and you look at him, bewildered. “is this okay?” he asks, looking down at both your hands and you nod. “your hands are much smaller, compared to mine at least.” he says, but you’re too flustered to even understand that. 

“are other things okay too?” he asks, and like his former statement, you didn’t understand. your silence doesn’t stop him though, he decided to push his luck. tugged gently by your wrist, your back’s no longer pressed to the wall as ushijima wakatoshi pulls you in his arms for the first time in your very few months of dating. 

“wakatoshi,” you mumble, your heart racing so much you’re sure he feels it against his chest. he’s so warm, welcoming, and in his loving hold felt like the rightest place to be. “you’re not feeling okay.”

you don’t respond, opting to bury your face at the crook of his neck instead. “I’m here, I know you’re tired.” 

you both stay in that position for a long time, it was addicting to be cradled in his arms and he felt the same. “y/n,” he whispers, and you hum in response. 

“you’re strong. very strong. you don’t need a man at all.”

your heart skips a beat, “toshi are you breaking up with me?” 

you hear a soft chuckle ring in your ears, “let me finish. as I said, you’re very strong. you look like you’re always so tough. but you’re not, and so…” he trails off, so you pull away to look at him, hesitance evident in his eyes, his palm still pressed at the small of your back. 

“you’re not always strong. in fact if I dare say, you are fragile, and I care about you. so please, allow me to be there for you all the time, I’ll be here, just like now.” 

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @astrealia @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle   @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa @dixonsbugaboo @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @ultzuko @yappychan @dipsydoo542 @devilgirlcrybabiey @dai-tsukki-desu​