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hlficlibrary · 27 days ago

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HL Fic Library 🛏️ Bed Sharing Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🛏️ Three Days in February by @mercurial-madhouse {E, 187k}

“What if I don’t remember in time?” Louis pushed out a breath too controlled to be steady. “We’re six days away from tour and we’ve got the Brits on Tuesday. What if I can’t figure this out before then? Fuck, what if I actually did ask for this and now I’m going to…to…shit…just fuck it all up for you lads or be stuck like this for-…”

Harry uncurled both of Louis’s hands from the fists they’d turned into and pressed them flat against his chest, silently urging Louis to take comfort the best way Harry could give it to him. “You really think we care more about tour than you? You’re going to remember before then. If you asked for this, you must’ve had a good reason.”

How close is too close? Harry and Louis are about to find out after a drunken night leaves Louis cursed. With only a week before tour starts, the race is on to fix things before they lose Louis forever. Oh, and Harry has to keep his long-time crush on Louis a secret while the lad can literally hear his thoughts. Easy, right?

Featuring ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.

🛏️ My Lights Stay Up, But Your City Sleeps by PearlyDewdrops / @moonhusbands {E, 108k}

Harry breaks into his own smile, scrunching his nose when he glances back up, meeting Louis' eyes, his stiff posture loosening. They stare for a beat, Harry's smile dwindling. "So... you're okay with it? That it can’t go anywhere?"

Louis nods easily. "We're on the same page. Promise." He holds out his pinkie to prove it, mind hazy and giddy from alcohol. Harry’s dimples appear in each cheek as he holds out his own, their pinkies intertwining. "We're just two people who like each other, have fun together, and who may or may not kiss and... stuff.” He grins, wild adrenaline pumping through to his fingertips.

Harry sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, lowering his flushed gaze to the floor.

��Just don't go falling in love with me, and it'll be fine," Louis smirks.

Or Louis has trouble sleeping, Harry has a habit of wrapping himself around Louis during the nights, and a mutual agreement to engage in a fun and simple thing quickly turns into something perhaps not so fun, and certainly not simple.

🛏️ nothing worsens, nothing grows by @soldouthaz {E, 102k}

and he sits there quietly with harry’s headphones in his ears while his eyes begin to close, totally unaware that he’s listening to the soundtrack of harry falling in love with him.

or, another roadtrip au featuring harry as the misunderstood hipster, louis as the bitter psych major, liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

🛏️ Caught In Your Gravity by @lululawrence [NR, 62k]

It felt like the blood froze in Harry’s veins even as he got a bit lightheaded. He hadn’t even made it two practices, only one of which he was remotely in charge of, without giving it all away and now he and Liam were both absolutely fucked.

“Shit,” Harry breathed out. “Who all have you told? Does everyone know? I thought I covered it better than that…”

“No, no,” Louis said quickly. "They’ll figure it out soon enough, though, because they’ll get used to you changing things up, but you’re only going to trip over your so called Americanisms for so long before they realize it’s because you don’t actually know fuck all about football.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah. I figured. I just need to bullshit for long enough to allow Liam to get the situation figured out from his end.”

“Right, which brings me to my entire point. I think we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement with all of this.” Louis leaned forward. “You need to learn the ins and outs of the sport incredibly fast. I can help you with that.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

Or, an AU inspired by a 30 second trailer of Ted Lasso that doesn't actually have much in common with the show at all.

🛏️ No Going Back by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 56k}

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?

This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

🛏️ i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine by @disgruntledkittenface {M, 50k}

Louis fell apart when her ex broke up with her and moved across the country. Just as she’s starting to move on, Zayn comes back to town for their mutual friends’ wedding – with a new girlfriend as her plus one.

Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. Their arrangement makes Louis feel pathetic and embarrassed, but it’s only going to last a few weeks. She just has to get through the wedding – what could happen?

🛏️ Cabin Fever by @germericangirl {E, 46k}

“What the fuck is he doing here?“ He asked still looking at him, before he turned back to look at Niall for an answer.

Niall’s mouth fell open and he looked at him with wide eyes "He um changed his mind?“

Harry stared at Niall for a few seconds in silence, before grabbing a bag and walking towards a bedroom without looking at anyone else, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Liam flinched in front of Louis.

“Well I’m happy to see you too.“ Louis mumbled, some of the tension leaving his body. This wasn’t exactly how he thought their first meeting would go. It was quiet for a moment before Louis finally spoke up “Did you seriously not tell him I was coming?“

Or: One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

🛏️ Close to Nowhere by @angelichl {E, 34k}

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

🛏️ never been a fan of change, but we’re still the same by fearsparks / @onlythebravest {T, 27k,}

“Why didn’t you call me?” Louis demanded. “As usual?”

Niall grimaced and reluctantly said, “He said you would make him drop.”

“Make him, how?” Liam asked worriedly, then quickly turned to Louis with almost judging eyes, asking, “You’d never force him to drop, right?”

“Fuck no,” Louis said firmly, shaking his head. “Never.” He’d never force Harry to drop unless he wanted to drop. Jesus, are his friends all idiots?

(Harry and Louis have relied on each other for over two years now, always turning to each other every time they need anything from touch to pheromones. But after Harry's omega unexpectedly causes him to drop in the pub, their relationship is no longer the same.)

🛏️ Fate Had Other Plans by @snowy38 {E, 25k}

Louis Tomlinson books into a remote Ski Lodge in Austria to avoid everyone at Christmas. He is looking forward to his bah-humbug lonely Christmas when Harry Styles 'breaks into' his lodge and ruins his plans with his happy, sociable nature...

Harry Styles booked into a Ski Lodge to spend Christmas alone with his boyfriend Nick Grimshaw; only two weeks before Christmas Nick dumps him and Harry decides the trip will help him re-find himself. What he doesn't expect to find is love...

🛏️ Yours In Fractions by @kingsofeverything {E, 23k}

Louis and Harry are strangers who, because of a mix up, share their mutual friend's apartment and bed over the holidays.

🛏️ The Aurora Zone by MsHydeStylinson / @mizzhydes {E, 19k}

“Hi, I’m Harry.” The guy introduced himself and Louis just grabbed his hand by instinct. It was big and warm when pressed against his own. His handshake was firm, and Louis just dumbly repeated his action.

“Louis.” Louis replied and then quickly wrenched his hand out from the grip of Harry’s claw. He hoisted himself up a bit more and glared at him suspiciously as this Harry guy was peeling off his outerwear like it was just a normal thing to do. Well, sure it was, but why the hell was he doing it in Louis’ room?

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Louis finally aired the question that had been circling in his mind this entire time now.

Or the one where Harry is busy crossing off his bucket list while Louis is busy falling for the guy he's supposed to hate.

🛏️ You Are The Fever (What A Lovely Way To Burn!) by @yoursolosong {E, 18k}

“You built this?” Louis whispered in a trembling voice.

Harry's mind finally seemed to kick in and he rushed to explain, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Lou. I know how weird this must look. I didn't mean to take advantage of your stuff behind your back, please, I am so sorry.”

Harry was now a blubbering mess. He fucked up.

He knew he fucked up.

Real bad.

It hadn't even been an hour since they made up and Harry fucked it all up. Again.

Louis must think Harry’s a weirdo.

God.

“I will wash it all for you and give it back, I promise. We can both forget everything about-”

He was cut by the sound of Louis growling.

And oh shit.

“You won't touch it,” Louis commanded.

Or Harry is an alpha who realizes he’s also into alphas and wants to be submissive. He battles between his instincts and what he wants.

🛏️ Lost But Won by @2tiedships2 {NR, 16k}

“If you start out by talking about your weekend of golfing I swear to god I will stab you with a pen,” Louis said by way of greeting. “You’ll have to give me a few minutes though so I can see if I even own a pen. But the warning stands.”

“Hello to you too, dearest Louis,” Niall yelled from where he still sat on the couch next to Harry.

There was a clunk on the floor and what sounded like shoes hitting the wall as Niall announced, “We have a guest. You might want to save stabbing me until you don’t have a witness.”

“Well if they are obsessed with golf then…” Louis trailed off as he made his appearance in the living room.

Harry’s mouth dried up. This was not the alpha that Niall had described.

When Harry loses his passport after a weekend trip to see Niall, the inconvenience of being stranded in America becomes a little more bearable after meeting Louis. Or a lot more bearable.

🛏️ if it looks like, feels like, tastes like love... by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix {T, 16k}

Niall has an easygoing smile on his face, bright and unbothered, as if he isn’t facilitating a lunch between Harry and the one person he might truly hate. “Niall. Louis,” Harry greets them both, somewhat strained. Louis doesn’t even look up at him. Harry sighs, taking a seat next to Niall and grabbing for the sandwich on the table. “Hear me out,” Niall says, cutting right to the chase. “Family housing.”

Or, the one where harry and louis hate each other but pretend to date to be able to live in university 'family housing', zayn and liam are their nosy next door neighbors, and niall is the friend who made it all happen.

🛏️ In a sky full of stars, be my Northern lights by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed {T, 13k}

It's one of those nights there's nothing on the telly that Louis absently scrolls through Tinder. After swiping left on a bunch of profiles he comes face to face with a picture that stops him in his tracks. The picture is..almost sweet. It’s a boy with brown curly hair, wearing a very low cut yellow blouse, paired with a black jacket. He’s got a smile on his face and his tongue sticking out, but it’s not in any way lewd or suggestive. He just looks like he’s having a good time, and something about the innocence of it has him swiping right rather than left.

He’s barely checked the other pictures on the boy's profile before Tinder confirms that he’s got a match. The shots are so different from the pictures Louis is used to on Tinder - half naked boys who are smoldering at the camera - that he can’t help but smile.

It quickly turns into a frown when he opens up the message he’s just received.

Harry: Hello! Harry: Thank you for swiping right Harry: I have a proposition for you

🛏️ Ever Since by @letsjustsee {NR, 10k}

Louis once again went to leave, but before he could reach the door he heard Barkley jumping off the bed behind him. The giant dog accosted Louis before he could get through, nudging Louis’ legs with all his weight and making him stumble, and Louis had to grab the doorframe to steady himself. “What the heck, Barkley?” Louis was mostly talking to himself, aware that Barkley couldn’t actually understand him, but he had never witnessed the dog acting so oddly. He turned around when he heard a quiet murmur coming from the bed. “What?” He hadn’t been able to make out what Harry said, but at Louis’ question he sat up in bed, hair already wild from the pillow, eyes heavy, and Louis’ stomach gave a little flip. “He wants you to stay.”

Or, a very fluffy AU where Louis finds a lost dog that he wishes he could keep - until he meets his owner, who he wishes he could keep more.

🛏️ remember you well by fondleeds / @harrybridgers {NR, 8k}

“Um,” Harry starts. He looks out of place. Louis can’t really believe he’s seeing Harry like this, so unsettled, so unlike himself. He holds out his hands. “Should we–. Should I, um. Did you wanna, like, cuff me to the bed or something?”

Louis raises his eyebrows. “I don’t know. Do I need to?”

AU. Harry’s a criminal, Louis’ a cop, and they’re stranded overnight at the Motel 6.

🛏️ All That Matters by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa {T, 5k}

“The wedding is set to be in five weeks. Your journey will take approximately four weeks and starts in three days. I have arranged for guards to accompany you. A maid will come pack your things.”

OR Omega Prince Harry is send on a journey to his future husband. Alpha Louis is one of the guards travelling with him.

🛏️ The Morning After the Night Before by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {NR, 4k}

Harry and Louis have more or less grown up together, even now as adults it's tradition for their families to spend a few weeks in the summer at a beach house together.

Problem One: Louis has been in love with Harry forever.

Problem Two: It wont stop raining.

🛏️ like a dream but i wasn't asleep by @alwaysxlarrie {G, 2k}

It's cold outside and Harry just wants to get into his hotel room and go to bed. It should be a simple task, but it’s made more challenging by his complicated relationship with gravity, a booking mixup, and a really hot guy.

Receptionist Amy is the only victim here.

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princessozera · 9 months ago

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so, random thought, there's a good chance the demon bros inadvertently harmed mc in some capacity just because human and demon limits are so vastly different, and the main human any have had contact with is Solomon, whose humanity is somewhat debatable. mc might act like they're invincible, but they are human in the end, and human durability is largely that we can keep going after almost any injury, not that we don't get injured

like Lucifer strings them up as he would his brothers, forgetting (assume he's really tired or stressed or whatever) that doing so puts a lot of pressure on the body and can cause actual damage instead of just being annoying like it is to his brothers. depending on how exactly he ties them up it'd change the effects but it's never gonna be great for them

Mammon running away from shenanigans with them and he tugs on their hand a bit too hard and fast to get them safely around a corner and dislocates their shoulder in the process because force = mass x speed and Mammon is a speedy boy. or he's running from Lucifer and slams into them at top speed, and if they can't protect their head from the wall/floor you know Mams is freaking out because mc is all out of it and there's so much blood and he doesn't care how Lucifer punishes him as long as he makes sure mc is alright

otaku Levi with his nonexistent sleep schedule doesn't realise just how badly sleep deprivation affects humans. paranoia, weakened immune system, depersonalisation, all the way to sleep deprivation psychosis. you go 96 hours or 4 days without sleep and lemme tell you, you ain't properly attached to reality anymore. been there, done that, would not recommend. there were bugs crawling all over my arms and legs and shadow people whispering. fucking sucked, and I was constantly shaking so I kept dropping stuff

if anyone knows about human durability, at least in theory, it's Satan, but the avatar of wrath can be emotionally charged. he really didn't mean to hurt them, but he was trying so hard not to lose it that day and as he led mc out of his room so they wouldn't be caught in the inevitable explosion, his deadly sharp claws nicked their skin. the wounds were mostly superficial— hurt like a bitch but no major arteries were damaged— but there was quite a lot of blood and Satan felt sick in a way he never had before. humans scar easily, a useful trait to close open wounds quickly, but Satan hates that he was the cause of those raised lines

Asmo is probably best at remembering since he hangs out with Solomon and has had human lovers before, but he is mostly around Solomon who cannot die. so he doesn't always remember what is and isn't toxic for humans, especially since a lot of poisons are used in medicines at lower doses and a lot of things we need to live are poisonous if we consume enough. it'd only take one slip up to put mc in hospital, and of course they don't blame him but he begs Satan to teach him as much as he can so it never happens again

you know Beel would try his best to remember, and he'd feel horribly guilty if he ever hurt mc, but he's big and strong even by demon standards and can eat anything that isn't Solomon's cooking. there's a few ways this one could go— sharing food with them that's toxic to humans, hugging them a bit too hard, mc giving him their food and going hungry, they work out together and they get hurt... take your pick

and Belphie knows all too well how fragile mc is, so he's very careful with his demonic strength around them. he already killed them once with barely any effort. but one day he wakes up from napping with mc to find he held them too hard and they're bruising. maybe his arm curled around their neck as it bloomed black and blue once again. Belphie doesn't nap with them for a while after that

! ANON! 💕💕💕💕

I don't know how you sniped me from across the highway but whump/injuries are exactly my cup of obsession and I've thought about this forever- i just never really had enough to make a full post. I LOVE your ideas and I hope you dont mind me bouncing some of my own off them;

----

Lucifer and his funny little habit of hanging his brothers 💕 Say he takes pity on MC, makes sure they're right side up, nothing around the neck and only tied beneath the arms and around the legs. Plans to take them down in 5 minutes, really it was meant to be the pet equivalent of air jail. But a call here, difficulties there and 5 minutes turn to 10 and then it slips to 15. It's so little time, absolutely nothing compared to the nights he's left Mammon up over the banister.

So why are there screams in the hall? Why are Asmo, Mammon and Levi on the phone with Solomon, Barbatos, and Simeon respectively? He doesn't understand why they don't immediatley drop MC down, only catching the tail end of Solomon explaing something called "suspension trauma" to Asmo. When they do get MC down, even from a distance he can see the color is almost completely gone from their face, while their legs are a few shades darker. He watches Satan mouth out the count for MC's pulse, quick and staggering. When MC wakes, they can't seem to take a proper breath- gasping, clutching their chest, tearing up and confused. There isn't much more any of them can do, other than stand back and hand MC over to Barbatos and Solomon.

----

In a movie, it would be considered slapstick comedy, the way that Mammon skid around a corner full speed, carpet pulling under his feet , hip checking the wall as he ran away from Lucifer. In a movie it would be hilarious they way him and MC crashed, sending them literally flying back, head bouncing off the wall, swirls in their eyes and stars dancing around their head. In a movie they would only need to shake it off and get up to yell at him, with Lucifer standing back and watching in smug satisfaction.

But there wasn't anything funny about this, MC slumped in his arms, blood turning his tshirt into a darker shade of black, making it tacky and stick onto his skin. They're awake, sort of? But their pupils aren't the same size, and the speech is slurred. There's a truce as Lucifer heals MC, and they get them to a proper doctor.

Mammon gets better at ducking and weaving around MC, it even helps him evade Lucifer better. But MC doesn't escape the dislocated shoulders, and unwanted popping of their knuckles when Mammon holds their hand too hard. Neither had known that after the first dislocation, its a lot easier to dislocate your should again. It's never intentional, but it always hurts- MC tries to breathe through it if there is an urgency, but Mammon catches the way they pointedly look away, trying to blink the tears away, and knows that he's- once again- failed to keep MC out of harm.

---------

Levi being MC's energy drink dealer. He doesnt know why they dont but their own, but he has plenty so he ultimately doesnt mind sharing. They're not attached at the hip so he doesnt see how little sleep MC is getting, a single can carrying them through 2 whole days. They know its time to 1-up again when their heart stops sounding like helicopter blades.

He finds them on the floor of their room, rubbing their arms raw with the hard bristle brush Asmo uses to buff his horns, babbling incoherently to themselves.

-----

With Satan the physical is NEVER intentional, as much as he used to rage in the early days of the fall, the thought of hurting MC didn't sit well with him. But tiny nicks are so easy to cause when even his regular nails are sharper than a humans'. If MC can keep their reactions subtle, it wont be until Satan is laying in their lap that he notices the "freckles" on their arms don't quite lay flat.

When you're used to fast reflexes, you don't think twice about slamming a door in someone's face. Someone (MC) who was too close and now has a broken, bloody nose. Now whenever the snore in their sleep, or their nose whistles when they laugh too hard, Satan remembers opening the door to MC doubled over, blood leaking from between their fingers as they tried to put pressure on the bridge of their nose.

-------

Dosage and concentration.

Asmo is vaugely familiar with these terms- SPF strength, alcohol proofing, acidity in his skin care. He's had so many spa nights with Solomon that he doesn't think twice about sharing his skin care routine with MC as well. Powders, gels, creams, exfoliants. Some a bit too harsh, MC's skin turns warm and flush, so he thinks their skin is sensitive. He'd ask for help caring for his wings and horns. MC goes in with their bare hands to get a good scrub, attributing the burn to the rough edges and upturned edges of Asmo's horns. It feels like icyhot, so it must be working. When they're done, Asmo tries to take the rest of the cream off their hands to apply to his hands, but they both scream as a visible layer of skin from MC starts peeling off as well. The acid having fulling numbed and killed off most of the senses in MC's hand, had started to deteriorate the skin, and its by some small blessing that MC hadnt already applied it to their face. It takes a panicked called to Solomon to get the feeling back into MC's hands, but it still takes weeks for the skin to grow back on to their hands. The pain of bandages on raw muscle is excruciating, and Asmo sticks to them like glue, fully taking the blame for their condition.

-----

Beel and Belphie have another trauma to share as twins- nearly killing MC in their sleep! Beel doesnt understand how heavy an unconcious body can be, and being as large as he is, this becomes a problem the first time him and MC share a bed. He falls asleep with an arm draped over them, but exhaustion from practice has him rolling on to them. Even if not entirely covering them, the weight on their chest makes it hard to breathe and MC soon drops nicities and is trying their damnest to get him off or at least wake him up. Its a panicked use of the pacts to call another brother that saves them, and Beel cant sleep for the rest of the night.

Belphie doesn't have as many night terrors these days, but they can still get bad. Usually sleeping with MC can keep these dreams at bay, but on nights that they dont, he wakes up to find MC tossed onto the floor or squeezed between him and the wall. On the worsts of these nights, he woke up to MC screaming, having wrapped a hand and tail so tightly around their arm that it shattered in 2 places.

(Can I also offer a beel and belphie alternative: MC wanting to match Beel's stamina/ gym workout time and getting muscle deterioration. Belphie wanting a sleeping partner so he messes up their sleeping cycles, 10+ hrs asleep, accidentally depriving them of light, water, and food, causing a depressive episode)

#ozera talks back #anon i am proposing #obey me shall we date #long post

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

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(🦭) ah yes grippy graspy handsy deku.. . . .. much to think abt.. . .. . also hELO i hope ur doing okay this week )):

☆༉ — IZUKU MIDORIYA. handsy.

about. he likes when you show him how to touch you. hi baby!! im doing okay, thank you for asking! i hope you are too <3

warnings. [n]sfw & smut. minors & ageless blogs do not interact. exhibitionism, dry humping, fingering, praise, use of good girl / baby, light choking & fem!reader.

the idea of deku’s hands always being on you. him always secretly observing how you touch yourself with your own hands too, making mental notes on how to replicate the feelings that you give yourself.

day to day, he notes the way your fingertips brush up and down your sides before you get dressed. how you sometimes cup your own neck for comfort and rest your palms on the swell of your thighs to keep yourself together in the image of a perfectly tied bow. and izuku watches, from his place in your bed — leaning back against the headboard with his mop of forest green curls curtaining his trained eyes. he stares from across the room at galas and summits as you toy with the pendant that cages your throat (his initials dangling at the nape, the emeralds glittering under the glow of the lights up above). his calculating gaze settles on your twitching thighs and quivering legs whenever he’s seated beside you, anticipating the moment you both can leave for home and the world consists of just the two of you once more.

izuku watches how you touch yourself in the most mundane ways so he can do it better. he wants to be the only one who knows how what makes you tick, what has your body twitching and writhing and those sweet sounds tumbling from between precious lips.

“sit back for me, sweetheart,” lust pools between your thighs as he speaks to you in a low whisper. izuku can be performative, play the nice guy and the hero with a smile but when it’s the two of you behind closed doors he changes — let’s the darker parts of him overshadow all of the rest, consuming you whole. “spread your legs nice and wide. i want to see you touch yourself.”

“izuku—“

he doesn’t take no for an answer and nips at your ear in warning. “oh i’m sorry, should i have asked?” his scared hands smooth over the swell of your thighs, his voice like high dose of ecstasy to relax you. “please, show me how you touch yourself.”

he squeezes and tugs at the rest of your body — the spots he knows are sensitive become victim to deku’s surprisingly sharp teeth and rough padded hands. your own nervously dance their way up to the crotch of your panties, your face hot at the wetness pooling in their seam. izuku could have easily taken over from here, he’s stroked your cunt to orgasm more times than he’s had to sign his name away for fans. but he knows that this is the one thing you can’t do without him.

the one thing about your body that he knows better than you do.

deku grunts softly when your hips buck into your own hand, chasing the light pressure you put on your clit — and he lets the sound bleed out into a syrupy moan as your fingers disappear beneath the flimsy material to play with the sticky mess between your folds.

“there she is, my good girl. i like when you play with yourself for me.” he praises you, sickly sweet like saliva mixed with honey. pleased with the sticky sounds coming from your pussy. green eyes drink in the way you start off slow and pick up the pace each time he moans or huffs or clicks his tongue in approval. you stuff your little fingers deep inside the hot veil of your quivering cunt, rut into the seat of your palm and grind your swollen clit into it because you like it when deku watches. when he touches you.

your hips stutter and deku’s chest heaves — you can hear him swallow thickly from behind you, the thought of him being so wrecked by the sight of you fingering yourself makes you gush. “is this how you do it…when i’m not here?”

“yeah… but it’s never enough.” you keen into his forest fire-like heat, let his arms wrap around you to keep you steady against his chest, let him tongue a wet stripe from your neck to your ear hungrily. “baby please—”

“i know baby, you’ve done so well. you know i like it when you put on a show for me.” pride swells up from his lower stomach, spreads into all four of his limbs then straight to his cock nestled against the curve of your ass. “let me take over from here.” taking your wrist into his much larger hand, you jolt as the raised and scarred skin that criss crosses over his palms and knuckles bumps your thighs.

and even though you’ve been working yourself open, each of your muscles seize and tighten as izuku pushes two thick fingers into your heat. he stretches you out like you’re about to take his cock, skilfully drags his thumb over your sticky messy clit just indulge himself.

izuku’s resolve is as strong and as firm as he stands — but even he isn’t immune to the high pitched cries and little mewls you let out as he fucks you open and mimics the way you make yourself shake with ecstasy. he’s awfully good at it, curling his fingers until he’s able to brush over that salacious spongy spot deep within your walls.

an airy chuckle vibrates in your ear at the sight of you gushing into his scarred palm. “that’s it, huh? the spot. fuck baby.” mossy curls send the ghost of goosebumps over your body as izuku nuzzles himself against you, like a cage or a blanket of dark lust that keeps you trapped in his reach. he manipulates your body with slow methodological shapes etched over the heartbeat in your pussy, spreading your arousal all over you until you’re both glossy and shiny.

lewd, unmissable squelches echo through your room — sounds you couldn’t achieve on your own. a wetness you couldn’t get without izuku’s help. you can’t even pin point the source of your own pleasure, not when his free hand maps out the curves and dips to your body even though deku knows them off by heart. he pinches and pulls you apart, forces you to fall apart underneath his touch as he tweaks your hardened nipples and taps his fingers against your pretty throat.

leaning forward into his hand, you let him give your airway a gentle squeeze.

“ah, you’re so fucking good, sweetheart,” you can tell that izuku is pleased with the way his tone jumps. his husky voice bounces around in the empty walls of your skull and you stretch accommodatingly around the third finger he gives you as a reward. “i think…i think i want to see you cum. doesn’t that sound nice?”

“i-izuku!” you reach behind you blindly and anchor your fingers into the roots of deku’s hair — pulling and tugging, anything to cope with the unimaginable ripples of lust that pulse through your shaky frame. he lets you writhe against him, grins to himself as you wildly buck into his hand as he pumps his digits in and out you equally as wild.

he moans heartily, frantically fucking you through the white hot pleasure. “again, say my name again.”

“izuku,” you cry again, but louder this time. you claw at his hand around your neck and the sheets and his skin because it all feels so good when he touches you. “izuku! izuku please!”

with your head thrown back against his shoulder, he marvels at the crease forming between your brows and the delicate way your mouth falls open around the shape of his name. “that’s my girl, that’s it. cum for me, sweetheart.” he goads as your orgasm washes over you hotly. it’s like the ground has been yanked out from beneath you and you’re free falling faster than your mind can catch up.

you clench hard around izuku’s sloppy fingers, letting him catch you and guide you through it all. “so pretty when you cum, keep that orgasm going for me, okay?” he’s sweet, pressing soft kisses to your temple and you feel a loving warmth blossom at each spot while deku grounds you. he’s there while the aftershocks make their way through you and your cunt seeps happily with your arousal. he holds you close, lazily tongues at your neck while he pulls out of you — as though not to cause you any pain.

deku lets his arousal soaked hand rest lovingly on your navel as a reminder of what’s to come and how far he could reach if he decided to fuck you later on. for now he whispers cotton-wrapped and honey dipped praises into your ear, massaging the parts of you that might be sore from spreading yourself for him. “did that feel good? are you okay?”

“yeah, yeah. ‘m more than okay,” you hum, all sleepy like, and croon your head upwards in search of a kiss and a handsome face full of freckles. “did you—?”

deku’s hands tighten on your waist. “did you expect me not to cum in my pants from feeling you up?” he laughs brightly. “i like touching you, you feel good. it feels good to me.”

that’s hot. he’s hot.

and you’re suddenly aware of the warm stickiness against your backside.

“n-next time, izuku,” you lower your voice to a purr, rolling over in his arms so that you’re both chest to chest. your hand dips between your bodies to stroke at his semi-hardness, boldly. “you’ll let me touch you? let me have you…it feels good for me too.”

and who is deku to deny your hungry request.

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onskepa · 11 months ago

Note

Hey I wanted to send a request in for a type 1 diabetic reader with Neteyam and sullys I never see diabetes anyway, so I think it's be interesting for them to see her just inject something into her arm anytime she's eats something and at first their kinda like 😨 "what was that?" Before she has to explain. If you don't want to do thats okay ❤️ and have a good day !!

Hellooooooooooo darling! So I will say this up front. This request hits a bit personal for me, since my mother is type 1 diabetic too. So hopefully you enjoy this one along with everyone else!

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

Tsan'ul

“I think we should have our lunch break now, doing chores all day really worked up and appetite” lo’ak says while wiping off the sweat from his forehead. Him and his siblings along with spider and tsan’ul all sat down together under a shade from the trees.

“Finally” tuk sighs tiredly. Kiri and neteyam happily unwrapped the packaged meal their mother prepared in the morning. Handing everyone their portions. It was one of their favorites. Wrapped in steamed leaves, there was meat mixed with roasted fungi sprinkled with puffleaves for that yummy salted taste. Fortunately its the type of food spider and tsan’lu can eat without feeling sick.

Everyone ate their fill, they all relaxed and gathered their energy before continuing on. Spider however nudged at tsan’lu, “hey dont forget your insulin” he reminded her. Tsan’lu makes a popping sound and grabs her pouch. Everyone looks at what she is doing and takes out a long yet thin vile.

“What is that…?” tuk asks in a bit of a whisper. Everyone silently observes tsan’ul as she takes out the blue cap of a needle. Lifting her sleeve up to the shoulder, a white patch is revealed. Removing the cover, tsan’ul injects the needle to where the white patch was. It only lasted a few seconds when she removed the needle to cover the spot of the injection. Rolling down her arm, she sighs in relief.

“What?” she asks.

The sully kids were staring at her wide eyes.

“Die-ah-beetees…?”

“Diabetes”

Tsan’ul was giving a little lesson to the sully kids as they all gathered to know what they just saw.

“Sooooo….there are two types?” Kiri asks, tsan’ul nods.

“And you have type 1?” lo’ak asks soon after. Again, tsan’ul nods.

“So this whole…diabetes sickness. How does it affect you? Were you born with it? '' Neteyam asks, still feeling a bit confused. “And how come just now are we seeing this?” kiri adds. Tsan’ul felt a bit shy as they pointed it out. But if they are curious, why not share?

“Well for me, I wasn't exactly born with it. But it does affect me in a slow manner. Right now I can be as healthy as I can be, but when I grow older things will change” tsan’ul explained. “How so?” tuk asks. “

Smiling a bit sad she replies, “because I have diabetes, my health may decline later on. My vision won't be the same, some organ failure or worse, my heart can weaken or other health problems. Since my body no longer produces enough insulin. And insulin is very important for our human bodies. It helps control blood sugar. So, for example, since we just ate our lunch, I have to take this pen”. Tsan’ul takes out an unopened insulin pen to show to the kids.

“Of course there are other ways to take this. But insulin pen injection is better for me, I can easily carry and already has the right dose for me to take” the human girl goes on.

Lo’ak was close to touching it but tsan’ul pulls the pen away before he could. “Nuh uh, no touchie. This is only for me” tsan’ul gently warns as she puts away the other pen back in her bag.

“You said you weren't born with it. So how did you get it?” Kiri asks another question.

“That kiri, is a story for another time. Come on, we wasted enough time already, gotta finish our chores before the eclipse” tsan’ul tells. Everyone agreed their break was already long enough. Packing their things they head their way back to where they were.

However, as everyone was quick to change the subject of the topic, neteyam wasn't fooled. When kiri asked her question, neteyam didn't miss the strange look in tsan’ul’s eyes. Clearly kiri touched something she didn't know and tsan’ul was not so keen on answering it.

After everyone had their fill at the communal dinner, neteyam was chatting with his siblings when he noticed tsan’ul leaving with her bag. Spider is still here, perhaps to take her insulin medicine again. Deciding not to leave the girl alone, neteyam gets up and silently follows her to keep her company.

So neteyam follows her to a little area both were familiar with. Not too far from the village. Tsan’ul sits comfortably on the ground, taking out her insulin pen. “Mind if I keep you company?” Neteyam says out of nowhere, it made tsan’ul jump startled. “Phew, neteyam you nearly scared me to death!” she says with a huff but a friendly smile. Neteyam returns that smile with his own as he sits next to her.

“Are you going to take your…medicine again?” neteyam asks. Tsan’ul nods and starts to prep her pen. Removing the cap, it reveals a needle. Looks slightly different from the other needles neteyam has seen before. Tsan’ul removes the white patch from her arm and gives her skin a bit of a pinch and inserts the needle to the area.

Neteyam stays silent, letting her concentrate on what the human girl has to do. And like before, after a few seconds, she removes the needle and covers the spot with the white patch. “There, all done” tsan’ul concludes. Putting away the empty covered pen back in the bag, she leans down to lay on her back, staring up at the starry night sky. “Thanks for keeping me company neteyam, you didn't have to” she thanks. .

Neteyam gives her a little grin, laying down beside her, “didn't want you to be alone” he says.

And they stayed in a comfortable silence together, enjoying the beautiful view. However, neteyam had to ask, he knew he would be touching a sensitive topic. “When kiri asked you…how you got the disease…you didn't answer her '' he says slowly. His large hand slowly reached her smaller hand.

“We were wasting time and had a lot of stuff to get done, so of course I couldn't tell her” Tsan’ul answers a bit too quickly. “Couldn't? Or wouldnt” neteyam says, almost challenging her. There was a long pause between them. “We have nothing else to do right now. Maybe you can tell me? I promise I won't tell kiri or anyone else for that matter” he swears.

Tsan’ul released a long deep exhale. And a slow blink.

“My mom”

Neteyam’s ears perked a bit to hear her correctly.

“Your mother?” he repeats.

Tsan’ul nods.

“My mom is also diabetic. For the majority of her life. She believes it's her fault that I got the sickness. A curse she would say. Always feeling guilty that I won't be as healthy or as strong as a normal human. I do my best to tell her it's not her fault, nobody, not her, not me would have guessed I would get it. Yet she can't help but feel guilty for a crime she never commited…”

Neteyam listened very carefully. Tsan’ul’s voice carried sadness and a sort of guilt of her own.

“Does it run in your family?” he asks.

Tsan’ul shrugs, “I am not sure. But, I wouldn't be surprised. From what norm told me, being a healthy human is a luxury and a privilege back on earth. So I would assume it is normal…”

“Hey, its not her fault. It is also not your fault either. How you got it doesnt matter, what matters now is that you are here and alive and thriving. So what if this diabetes has you, you can overcome it. You are strong tsan’ul. And I know you won't let this set you back. I have seen how you can be. So the only thing you can do is continue to be who you are and get better every day, "Neteyam encourages. Tsan’ul smiles, intertwining her hand with his.

“Thanks neteyam, I needed to hear that ''

I may have used some real life stuff for it. Also I had to ask my mom so many questions for this. She did wonder why the need to know, I had to make an excuse. But I am happy how it turned out. So I hope you all enjoyed this one! Until next time! see ya!

---------

Tsan'ul = Improve, get better

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drthugitout · 6 months ago

Text

My ver of dream :00000 AND RANTS ABT MY AU

I ws going for a more princesssy vibe if ykyk if ya like dream do u wanna have more hc on my au in stuff

So a lil rant, but this ver of dram takes place ofc after the whole being trapped n stone thing passses but more in the mist of trying to save his brother, not knowing that he’s already dead ((couldn’t be me type shi.))

He’s way more trusting and open arms meaning he could eager hurt easily, even if your mean he just assume he need to try harder to make you happy or to trust him n vice versa.

He’s also just not good with helping ppl who don’t want to be helped which his can never understand especially with people like killer or early on cross and even sometimes ink.

He can’t read. I mean he can read but not to the best.

Dawg hates getting treaeated like a child, he’s not a child he’s an adult man, yes trapped in stone for a long time sucks and he dose have some problems with not getting a lot of adult topic but prefers for them to get explained and not gatekeeped, with that in some ways even core could be considered more mature then him ((not like they aren’t though))

He gets wat to excited for missions but it’s not jus him so do ink and swap that dose change though

He’s not above overworking himself for the greater good no matter what it is.

He’s scared of going blind, random but it makes sine seeing as he was practically Lind for 500 years trapped in some weird purgatory.

Yes he try’s to make every one happy but if there’s really nothing he can do he won’t keep trying to make you better n be near your negative ahh.

Sometimes British.

His magic is sometimes hard to control as ink describes it he’s ’rusty’ training with him and swap so they all can up there strategy’s

Continuing the theme of the last hc of this au, he hates fighting especially and of corse against nightmare, from his eys he got stuck in a endless loop of nothingness for years only to wake up the the sweet kinda kid he knew as his brother know the most well known asshole across the world, along with getting teased and pushed during battle against nightmare for nights own sadistic personal gain, AND HE JUS LETS IT SLIDE BCZ HE WANTS HE BROTHER BSCK it actually hands to be stud dyed how overlooked that is.

He can fly, to some existent. Nobody is truly sure how?! But he can.

Trap rap scares him like that aggressive stuff ((I also don’t like it I LIKE MY RAP CATCHY N MUISCAL NIT HEADACHE RACING)) He also don like hardcore rock

The king along with his right hand men. ((Ink and swap)) along with core

His main friends are just the main sanses besides the bad guys.

Loves cosplayer n dress up

But HATEDSSSSSS holloween

To scared to accept his friends as family dispute how close they act the fact they sometimes live together feed each other and share clothes, I luv them<33

Hes open to showing affection in almost every way so yes he dose so time give ppl kisses on the cheeks and hugs and say how much he loves them bcz ipit brightens there day.

Gets annoying headaches from nightmares voice mainly when he yells, it just brings back pain and damn, that sucks. Smh smd

He’s seen as royalty but hates getting treated like that as he feels like he shouldn’t be looked highly in for what he dose ((mainly because he feels like he should be able to do more, and hates that he can’t help everyone mainly because of his childhood))

lowkey fuck them villagers.

Cusses n it catches ppl of guard but for him it’s not shown as bad at all

Says some things that would get him canceled but doesn’t know that so he has to get explained that

One when angered he best nms ahh n once night left came to the realization of what he did n cried, ink swap and pretty much everyone were so proud though.

Everyone is his best friend

513 ((A GROWN MAN))

Actually scared of octopus/ squid’s ect. Like when he would cry cuz nightmare scares the fuck out of him. ((He actually got over his fear a bit with freshs parasite

Sleeps in dirt, a weird calming thing for him especially since he like to sleep in the sun. I dunno his ass weird but yeah needs sunlight like a plant.

Swap carries him around somtimes I dunnod I jus though that was sweet

Also wears anything, this goes for slot of the skellys n my aus but he would wear the most gorgeous ball room dress ever n never bat an eye.

A rly good singer. Who can play the piano kinda sometimes.

Hates wearing headphones or annoying boarding noises.

For some reason he dependent on helping cross mainly him because of how bad he feels but how much he relates to him especially after that one battle with nm around when he gets closer to cross n more open to the fact most ppl suck. He stops being less of a bitch.

Seen as the leader even though swap would make a better one out the three

Along with his sleep he doesn’t have the best eating habits swap of then haveing to help him out and vice versa as they love overworking them selfs

The thought of a muiltverse overwhelmed him. A lot. ((Cuz ur saying I gotta make allll these ppl happy? Damn.))

WEAKER BECAUSE THERE ARE WAY MORE NEGATIVE AUS THEN THERE SRE POSTIVE PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT NIGHT HAS A HARSH ADVANTGE

his smiles contagious.

Ngl the drawing kinda gives “I will fight n the name of Rose Quarts n every thing that she believed in.” Very Steven universe coded though.

Can’t flirt or take a romantic hint

Pretty gender neutral

He pokey prob likes gross food btw like nuts, ew.

His highest priority is children as he projects on the highly.

((Note I came up with half up these from the top of my head, I don know hc were so easy, n I don even like dream like that))

That’s most of my hc but yeah there less silly fun ones n most jus to do with his character n my au.

Uhhh he likes frank ocean.

#sans au #utmv #undertale au #undertale #dream sans #dreamtale au #docstayzrantin #docstayzthuggin #docsartwork #star sanses #swap sans #ink!sans #nightmare sans

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indelen · 2 months ago

Text

This is my reread of the Lockwood and Co. Books, organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea , I'll make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me.

Part I - Chapters 1-4

The Whispering Skull - while it does properly introduce my beloved murder sewer rat boy - is George’s book. It explores his character, his flaws and faults and his extraordinary skills and talents. We see a lot more into his past, his history with Fittes, his attitudes and world view and not all of it is good. George, as told by Lucy, is an interesting character - a lot of what Lucy finds objectionable about him is filtered through her highly biased lens. Many of the things Lucy dislikes about George is surface stuff, a mix of shallow teenage meanness and insecure projection (Lucy is VERY self conscious and insecure and to mask this she takes it out on basically everyone around her who is not Lockwood) but there are things about George that are true flaws. He’s single minded and obsessive, he is insensitive and shows least empathy of the three. He also picks fights and arguments honestly a shocking number of times. We saw this in The Screaming Staircase, where he easily snapped back at Kipps, but also slagged off someone like Barnes when really the more wise thing to do would have been to keep quiet. Combined with all this you really do see that living with George would be very trying day to day, he’s a good kid and a loyal friend but he has that abrasiveness that comes from being right a lot from a very young age. And I like that the books both show it is important to have self worth but also that George needs a dose of self awareness no less than Lockwood or Lucy sometimes.

Odds and Ends:

Importantly, the book starts with George making a mistake. Because while he is smart and he is dedicated and thorough - no one is perfect. Sometimes people make the wrong call. The Screaming Staircase showed George being right most of the time, but The Whispering Skull shows just how bad things can go when someone as smart as him makes an error in judgment.

The books consistently and often in small subtle ways show that Lockwood is a good leader. He trains with Lucy, trusts and believes in her evident strengths but also helps, guides and encourages her in areas where her training shows gaps. Lucy’s not a great fencer at the start, likely only having ever been shown the very basics by Jacobs, Lockwood works hard with her to get her to improve without hounding her about it. He’s shown to keep cool in moments of panic and doesn't waste time assigning blame. Lucy is definitely besotted with him and her impressions of him are filtered through that lens but you definitely get the sense that Lockwood is good when it matters.

This is an interesting book-to-show change. In the books it’s George who originally proposes a competition between the agencies and goads Kipps, not Lockwood. Lockwood actually tries to de-escalate at first but gets caught up in the competition. In the show it’s Lockwood’s recklessness alone that leads to the bet and both Lucy and George are equally appalled by it. Lockwood may be reckless but so is Geroge, it just manifests in a different way. George regularly needles people and because he is very perceptive he can really get under someone’s skin. It’s all childish bickering for now, but of course if you prod the wrong person it can get dangerous…

That said Lockwood is amazingly bitchy too. And this sort of sass is also cutting, just in a different way. He’s saying the same thing George is saying, just more subtly - “look at you, big man, ordering tiny children under ten around. That's not for me.”

In the Screaming Staircase Lockwood tells Lucy that the agency has been registered only about three months when the books start and that previous to this Geroge was with Fittes for around six months. George is implied to be around Lockwood’s age (or maybe even older, though if so, not by much). That means that Fittes did not select George and indoctrinate him into their system in early childhood as they did with poor “maybe eight” (EIGHT!!) year old Gladys or age-ten-at-best Bobby. Bobby, despite barely in the double digits, has clearly been with Fittes for some time, he’s probably on his way to getting Grade Three here (he doesn't have a rapier in this scene, but will soon). These kids are incredibly young and impressionable and already are in the field. They’re in awe and have a massive hero worship of their supervisor because he’s functionally the only adult that takes care of them on a daily basis and they latch on to him and take cues from his behavior. Because they are children. Meanwhile, George had a normal upbringing with his family, in the book he is an only child, he likely received a decent education, excelled, took an interest in the Problem and only then, age maybe 13-14 or so, got a job with Fittes. And that heathy, relatively normal, supportive upbringing gave him a substantial amount of self worth and clarity. This was not a kid who would latch on to any adult provided to him, he has caring parents, he has a life outside being an agent. He immediately saw through the Fittes lies and indoctrination since he had no devotion to the agency to cloud his judgment. He didn’t owe them anything and Fittes didn’t like that. This really shows that as an agency Fittes doesn't want just any Talent, they want Talent in specific kinds of damaged and vulnerable kids that are easy to mold and manipulate.

This is where things get dicey. Lucy is correct. Even setting aside the ethical questions for a moment, constantly conducting the same experiment with effectively the same type of negative stimuli and hoping for a different response is flawed methodology. This is classic STEM tunnel vision - having a hypothesis, conducting an experiment, not seeing data you want and rather than re-evaluating your hypothesis, digging in your heels and repeating the same experiments over and over trying to get results that support your ideas. This is the first we see of George’s obsessiveness and self assured nature being a detriment, it’s actively working against him but he dosen’t realize it yet.

And this is where the ethical questions we set aside before, return. The ethics of conducting experiments with Visitors are so, SO dicey. All sorts of things are called into question here. When does a person stop being a person? It can’t be that it’s simply at death, because if it was the case we would not have a history of funerary rites going back to before Homo Sapiens. If we view the dead as still human and deserving of dignity, are Visitors not entitled to at least some of the same courtesy? The idea of performing medical experimentation on a body without some kind of consent or permission is considered unethical and what is Geroge (and … others) doing but basically that? And yet this does not bother him, in part because of that scientific tunnel vision. He wants to know the answers and to him everything else is secondary. But in part also because of how desensitized to death and irreverent to human remains this society has become. Any once alive human being has become nothing but 206 potential issues and problems. Grief is lost and made small by a million bureaucratic failsafes that make any life ending a bother.

Another interesting change between the books and the TV show - in the books the boys never for a moment doubt Lucy when she tells them The Skull spoke to her. This is even before Lockwood senses the conversation taking place (though he cannot hear it) so this was on her word alone and neither batted an eye at it. I get why they changed it for the show, which needs more stakes episode to episode but I dunno it’s kinda sweet these two never questioned Lucy. And I think, after being so dismissed and disregarded by Jacobs, it must have meant a lot to her to have her testimony be trusted so implicitly.

Girl…Come on.

The contrast between George knowing immediately Lucy is attracted to Lockwood and Lucy herself having no idea is so funny, but it also goes back to that emotional awareness George has that Lucy simply does not because she was not raised in a well adjusted enough environment. Where would Lucy even see boys and girls interact in a normal and healthy manner? Where would she see a couple showing affection for one another? She doesn't recognize in herself what she never saw in others.

Once again what bothers Lucy is the power imbalance, she opened up to Lockwood and he was sympathetic but there was no reciprocity. And this bothers Lucy although she can’t explain why, she dosen’t recognize what her attempts to reach out to Lockwood emotionally mean. Why, although the secret is obviously a curiosity to George, he’s not as bothered by the room as she is. He’d friends with Lockwood but he’s not attracted to him. He’s not looking for the kinds of emotional connection Lucy is.

Lucy describes Lockwood Smile counter: 1

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood library #lockwoodlibrary #the whispering skull

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tell-me-a-tale-that-tells · 5 months ago

Text

HIS EVERLOVING DARK STAR

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Summary: Hancock encounters a vampire woman and slowly fell for her.

Pairing: John Hancock (Fallout 4) x Vampire OC

Type: request

Warnings: blood, sex, chem use

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The thunderstorm in the wasteland is not an easy business.

Besides deafening sounds, the blinding flashes of lightnings, the radiations are the ones that will kill you for sure.

Unless you're a ghoul, then you can stay out in the open, under the poisonous rain, like it's a fricking day at the spa.

Hancock is doing just that, smoking on the balcony of the town hall.

He doesn't know what the hell he's smoking but it must be good because it's doing wonders with his nerves.

He glances behind him, checking on her.

Oh, her.

John wonders every day what he had done to be worthy of having her in his life.

Her long body sprawled on the couch, wearing only a thin night grown.

She takes a hit of Jet and then, feeling watched, she looks in his direction with a warm smile.

Yeah, he feels like the luckiest bastard in the whole world.

Their encounter was, for sure, the strangest of his life.

In a pitch-dark night, when not even the most remote star dared to show itself in the sky, he was returning home from the third rail.

The rustling of garbage in an alley picked his attention, it's not that in Goodneightbor there aren't cats or rats, but one can't be never sure.

He cocked his gun, ready to shot, just in case.

Hancock turned left and freezes on the spot.

On the ground there was an Assassin, his throat slit from ear to ear, his unseen eyes still open.

The figure crouched down on him halted their movements, raising their hands at the sound of the first shot.

"Wait! Wait don't shoot!" She yelled and John realized that the girl's hands were covered in blood.

"Besides doing me a favor, killing off that bastard, tell me why the fuck I shouldn't make a hole in your head" John hissed.

"Let me explain, please" The woman answered, slightly turning her head.

Hancock could see that even her mouth was red, smudged with fresh and glistening blood.

As she turned around, he pointed his gun right between her eyes "Sister, I'm afraid cannibals are unwelcomed in my town".

She narrowed her brows, looking confused and offended "I'm not a cannibal. I wasn't eating him; I was drinking his blood."

John could have laughed at her tone because she spoke those worlds like it was the most obvious thing to say.

"And what does that make you, uh? A vampire?" He smirked.

"...Well, yes" she stated.

Maybe he was way too drunk or high for that.

"Listen. As I said, I have to thank you because that man was only causing troubles and he met the end he deserved. But I can't let you go so easily; you could hurt some innocent" he lowered his gun anyway.

"Are you a... sheriff or something?" She smirked, raising an eyebrow at his strange attire.

"I am the mayor, actually. John Hancock" he tipped his hat.

"Nimue" she answered back, her stained lips curling in a smile.

Since that encounter their days have been a crazy rollercoaster.

He tried to arrest her twice, keeping her in jail was basically hearing her hissing and complaining about the heat.

If Nimue is truly a vampire, John can't tell, she could be just a crazy woman with a very serious iron deficiency.

Sure, she drinks a lot of blood, but she uses also a lot of chems.

He like that part a lot.

Nimue can handle chems better than him, she needs at least twice the dose he takes to have the slightest effect, but when she's high...John blesses the Gods if there are any.

She's crazy when sober, her chatting and easygoing nature is so refreshing in a town like Goodneightbor or in every other town she steps in.

She seems rough and dangerous on the exterior but once one knows her better, they can appreciate her light side.

When she's high the things change, she's almost predatory, sensual and sinful but never in an unsettling way, there's always a sweet side peeking under all that dominance, a certain softness in her eyes.

Their first time together was unforgettable for both of them.

She was dancing around at the Third Rail, her body swaying to the nonexistent music.

Hancock had never seen anything like it.

He was mesmerized by her movements, the way her long legs seemed to glide over the floor.

"C'mon, Mayor. Why don't you join me?" She giggled

As Hancock watched Nimue dance, he couldn't help but feel his desire for her growing.

He'd always found her captivating, even in her most unpredictable moments.

With a smile, he stepped close to her "I'm afraid I can't dance" he said softly.

"Neither do I" Nimue stopped dancing and turned to face him, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

She walked up to him, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest as she reached out to take his hand.

She lifted his arm, turning underneath it, and then placed her other hand on his shoulder.

"Like this," she murmured, guiding him through a few slow steps.

Hancock was surprised at how natural it felt to move with her, even if it was just a simple dance.

She was so close, their bodies swaying together in perfect harmony.

Hancock could feel his heart racing as he looked into Nimue's eyes and her intense gaze seemed to pierce right through him.

The chemistry between them was palpable, and Hancock couldn't help but lean in closer.

"John..." Nimue whispered, "I think that I... might have feelings for you," Nimue admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She stepped back slightly, breaking the intense moment they had shared. Hancock was taken aback by her confession.

He'd always known there was something between them, but he hadn't expected her to admit it so openly." Hancock felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he processed her words.

"Nimue, I... Are you sure? You don't really want to be stuck with this ugly face" Nimue giggled softly at his comment, but there was a touch of sadness in her eyes.

"Oh, John," she said, reaching up to caress his scarred skin "You're anything but ugly."

Nimue’s mouth was just a mere inch from his as she spoke "I don't care about your scars, John. You are strong, resilient, and brave. You spared my life and gave me a home, and for that, I will always be grateful."

The kiss was intense and passionate.

Hancock couldn't believe it, but he was kissing Nimue.

His heart raced as he deepened the kiss, his hands running through her hair and down her back.

She responded eagerly, her hands slipping around his waist and pulling him closer.

One of her razor-sharp teeth cut his lip and Nimue gasped an apology, she looked at the small cut on his lip.

Her eyes were filled with regret, "I'm sorry," she said softly "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Hancock smiled, trying to reassure her, "It's alright," he said, gently tracing the cut on his lip with his finger "It's just a small price to pay for such an amazing kiss."

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

Nimue burst out in a laugh “Always so quick with a comeback, aren’t you?" She leaned in closer to him, their breaths mingling as they shared another intimate moment.

"What do you think if...we take this elsewhere?" Hancock looked at Nimue, his heart racing with anticipation.

He nodded slowly, his voice low, "Yeah, I think that could be a good idea."

"At mine or yours?" Nimue's question caused a smile to spread across Hancock's face.

He liked the idea of them being together in a private space, just the two of them.

"Mine" he replied, reaching out to brush his hand against hers.

The way to the town hall was interrupted many times by kisses.

The moment they stepped inside, the tension between them seemed to rise even more.

Hancock closed the door behind them, locking it tightly.

He turned to face Nimue, taking in every inch of her beautiful face.

Then everything was a blur of chems and alcohol and Nimue drinking blood from a sack before sitting on his lap.

"Are you hiding a knife or you're happy to see me?” She smirked.

Hancock chuckled at Nimue's playful banter.

He reached for her hand and led it towards his pocket "Well, this is actually my knife," he said before moving her hand over his crotch "and this definitely isn't it"

“And what do you plan to do with it?" Nimue looked at Hancock, her eyes filled with mischief and lust.

When she didn’t hear Hancock respond, she leaned closer to his ear "I'll tell you what we will do...", Nimue's words were soft "We're going to make love until the sun rises and then..." Nimue's words trailed off, leaving Hancock hanging on her every word "We will do it again."

John could only nod and smile, trailing his hands up and down her body, caressing her back and sides.

Nimue sighed contentedly, her eyes closing and her head tilted back, exposing the pale column of her neck.

John's hand wrapped around it, not squeezing but simply resting before his mouth joined in, propping a trail of wet kisses that made Nimue gasp.

Her hands slipped under his shirt, touching his roughed skin with a reverence and marvel that John couldn't believe it.

"Take this off, please” she asked.

He's self-conscious about his appearance, he knows very well what people think of ghouls and how repulsive they look to most of them.

It was rare to find someone who accepted them outside Goodneightbor, but Nimue couldn't care less about stupid people's minds.

Her eyes started on every new inch of exposed skin like it was a holy revelation.

She began to kiss and lick, occasionally grazing her teeth without biting.

John's mind was a haze of chemicals and arousal, he bet she felt his hardened member pressing at the worn fabric of his pants.

Like she was reading his mind, Nimue started to grind her hips on him, moaning softly in his ear.

John's control finally snapped.

He raised from the couch, taking her with him and carrying her to his bed.

He laid her on the raggedy sheets and sat in front of her. "You're still wearing too much" she murmured against his lips.

John chuckled, removing his boots and pants.

Nimue sat up, removing her red sparkling dress, exposing her body to him.

In his fogged mind he still could think that that didn't feel like a fling, one of the countless times he took someone in his bed just to never see them again the day after.

Now both in their underwear, it didn't take too much before they slipped the last articles of clothing off from each other bodies.

"John, please. I know we have all the time we want but...please" Nimue's pleading words made John's heart race, and he couldn't resist her any longer.

He slowly lowered himself onto her, feeling their bodies meld together as he slowly entered her.

She gasped, her eyes closing in pure bliss.

It was John's turn to moan once he bottomed out, feeling every inch of her warmth surrounding him.

They started to move in unison, their breaths becoming ragged as pleasure consumed them both.

Nimue arched her back and gripped Hancock's shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

In her long life, she never felt anything like that, she thought about it as John's strong hands held her hips tightly, moving rhythmically against her.

She could feel every inch of him inside of her, his rough skin creating a delicious friction.

When John filled her for the first time with his release, she couldn't do anything but following him over the edge, her long legs shaking from the force of her orgasm.

"John," she gasped, kissing his neck above his pulse "Again." Hancock rolled on his back, taking Nimue with him and positioning on her on top, "Work for it" he whispered playfully.

John's heart almost exploded as he watched Nimue's body bouncing on him and shake with pleasure, the sight of her breasts swaying entranced him and he cupped them in his hands, squeezing gently.

He felt a surge of pride knowing that he was the one who brought her to this state.

Her grip on him was tight like a vice, the drag of her inner walls was enough to make him lose his mind.

His hips bucked up, urging her to go deeper, to feel every inch of him.

His climax was building shockingly fast, and Nimue could feel it too.

She smiled down at him "Coming so soon?" she teased, biting her bottom lip playfully.

Hancock groaned, his muscles tense underneath her "You're killing me, Nimue."

She leaned down to whisper in his ear, "I could say the same about you, my love."

The rest of the night was a frenzy of passion and love, as the nights that followed.

Day by day, night by night, Nimue remains by his side on the highs and lows, always the faithful, unpredictable companion.

After months of living together, John and Nimue's relationship had evolved into something deeper and more meaningful.

They shared everything, their joys, their fears, their secrets and their love for each other only grew stronger.

John is reflecting on all that, still smoking his cigarette on the balcony, it's been years since they met and both of them hasn't changed or aged a day.

Nimue makes a 'come here' motion with her finger, giggling and slightly raising up her nightgown in a sensual and inviting manner.

John shakes his head amused, "I thought you had enough for tonight" he says, walking towards her.

Nimue smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

"I always have room for more," she purred, nuzzling her face against his chest.

"After all," she continued, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye, "we have all the time in the world."

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #fallout #john hancock #smut #fallout 4

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neutron-stars-collision · 2 months ago

Text

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 10 - Waterloo Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 9 Summary: A spontaneous decision on your side takes you both out of London for the weekend. The proximity and a different setting forces you to address some reckless choices and face the tension. Warnings: Swearing, explicit language and, as always, a tiny dose of angst and confusion on both sides. Author's Notes: Publishing a chapter every 2-3 months is cool, right? 🙈 As always, I blame work and my brain for that. These two make life difficult on the daily basis. But, alas, it's here for all five of you to enjoy 🎉 This is the first of my 'Skegness chapters', which a nickname I gave to the weird concoction of ideas that required my setting to change for a moment. Said weird ideas included an ice bar, stargazing and swing dancing... Yeah, I know. I think there will be one more chapter finishing this part of the story, because as you can see, these two are only getting messier. Don't we just love that?? Thank you for reading and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added).

You could not exactly say if anything changed after that Saturday morning when Neil lifted the metaphorical veil of secrecy, but you knew that some things were different. Like how you perceived the world - at odd times aware that, for some people, movement was not always a forward motion. Some bullets could fly up instead of falling. During those days when Neil texted you to say he was away and would not be able to meet, he was most likely not sitting behind a desk, going through paperwork. Or listening to people confess their sins in a darkened confessional.

No, it was quite possible he could be dodging those inverted bullets and trying not to be injured. Or worse. Admittedly, you tried your hardest not to think about that whenever Neil was away. You filled your time with lessons and rehearsals, fully immersing yourself within the four realms of The Nutcracker. Which, if you dared say so, was going well. Suspiciously so.

But if there was one thing that changed on the sunny Saturday, it was the fact that you took one significant step back. At some point that day, faced with the reality of Neil’s occupation and the things he had to deal with, your brain decided to take one step back, withdrawing from any forms of intimacy that breached the carefully crafted line. The line was drawn in the sand, daily rearranged to fit the narratives you had tried to believe. That was how close friends behaved. There was nothing wrong with the desperate desire to talk to him whenever you spent as much as four hours apart. Lies like that.

But you no longer kissed him. Never let yourself get lost in the passion so easily ignited between you through something as innocuous as a touch of a hand. If Neil noticed your feeble attempts at stripping away the benefits part of your friendship, he did not show it.

If he ever asked, you were not sure you could explain it. Except that a naïve part of your brain wanted to believe that if something terrible happened to him, it would be easier to move on. To forget without the burden of memories filled with kisses and touches no one else could ever replicate.

In a way, it was a blessing that Neil was never the one to initiate a kiss or something more between you without a clear green light from your side. Yet, still, you did not consider it a blessing. More so a convenience that eased the burden of guilt. Slightly.

Still, your weekly standing dates on Wednesdays and other random outings continued, setting a routine you could not begrudge. It was easy (too easy) and pleasant (too pleasant) to have someone to talk to and share every little thing that came to your head, the good and the bad. And if, in exchange, you got to know Neil even better, confirming your assumptions that he was possibly the smartest and most wonderful human being to exist – then that was more than alright.

It was only at the end of October when that steady routine and daily schedule, without an ounce of variety, except for maybe a different idiotic song stuck in your head, started getting boring. Tiring with repetitiveness. It was that sort of excuse you repeated in your head as you typed into the search bar performances of travelling ballet troupes doing The Nutcracker and consequently chose a destination. There was never such a thing as too much inspiration. Surely. And a weekend away from the beloved yet chaotic London Town did not sound bad either. Certainly.

All was well until the subsequent Wednesday morning when you stared at the fluorescents on your descent to the platform, your eyes burning from a deficit of sleep and an early hour. Mornings like this meant trouble. They sounded like spontaneous decisions and recklessly made plans.

But as always, sense was hard to come by when faced with those beautiful eyes and a smile almost too good to be true. A takeaway coffee cup in his hand, placed under your nose as soon as you sat, was a key factor, too.

The gleam in his eyes zeroed in on you as you stifled another yawn and picked up the coffee with a grateful smile. The verbal response had to come after that first sip.

“You look like you need this” the affection in Neil’s voice was, as always, a dangerous, heady thing.

More so when you were sleep deprived and quite likely to say fuck it to things that you should not say fuck it to. You took the second sip of coffee before even trying to respond.

“Desperately” on their own accord, your eyes wandered over his face, cataloguing every tiny detail you could see from such proximity. The stray eyelash on his cheek caught your attention, so you reached out, brushing it away with a feather-light touch. Only Neil’s startled look told you he had noticed, “Thank you, sweetheart” before you could chicken out, you breached the minuscule gap and kissed his cheek. The victory in hearing his shallow gasp was fleeting, yet still very much there, “Waking up when it’s still dark is utter shite, innit?” frowning at the plastic lid, you sighed heavily.

It was even more damning to think about the return home that afternoon, also cloaked with twilight and the streetlights coming on, one by one, as you cowered from the wind and the drizzle. But that should wait. Without letting the sombre mood deepen, you moved closer to Neil, letting his warmth seep into your cold body and frozen heart.

Fuck knows if that was even an accurate metaphor. Or if it was something you wished to be true.

“Add jetlag to that and… yeah” unaware of your teeny crisis, Neil raised his arm to place it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The nonchalance of the gesture, seemingly a natural habit by now, did not escape you “But I’ve only got the briefing to tick off today, and then I’m free for a week” the slight brag in his tone made you frown with feigned jealousy.

Or not so feigned.

It was good to have him back after two weeks of nothing but texting and occasional phone calls, cumbered by the frustrating invention called ‘time zones’. What did not need to be mentioned were the hours you spent worrying whether the next text would ever arrive. If he would call again. Every prolonged silence felt like a trigger, baiting the anxiety to come out of its hiding place and torment you. There was nothing you could do but harden the convictions you had tried to set for yourself.

Neil was just a friend. Definitely just a friend.

Well, it was good to have your friend back.

“Lucky you” ignoring the strange aftertaste that sentence left on your tongue, you snuggled against his side and asked “How did Canada go? Many inverted bullets?” sometimes, it still stung just how little you understood what his work entailed.

Sure, Neil has offered impromptu physics lessons and slightly extended explanations. And sometimes, you took him up on it, taking inexplicable amounts of pleasure from watching him gesticulate and light up when trying to make you understand how the laws of physics could be inverted. That gleam in his eyes whenever Neil had a chance to talk about something he was passionate about made it impossible to look away from him, drawing you in like a magnet. But maybe that was just Neil’s magic in general.

“Yes, but it was relatively calm. Just a stake out, really” sighing, Neil somehow pulled you even closer and rested his cheek against the top of your head, stoking the flame in your soul “I managed to fulfil the goal, so at least they won’t fire me” the chuckle rumbled through his chest, highlighting the insecurities dormant underneath.

Now and then, you could see them clearly like this. And each time, they made you frown. It made zero sense for someone so incredible to doubt himself. With a personal vow to never stay silent on the topic, you raised your head with a rebuttal prepared:

“Please. As if John would ever do that,” measuring Neil with a look that dared him to protest while also showing that you were not taking it seriously, you placed a comforting hand on his knee and squeezed.

You had abandoned the pretence that you could withdraw from intimate gestures of that kind a long time ago. The resistance was futile.

“You’ve met him once, Cupid” Neil’s wry smile broke through the attempt at seriousness, failing to convince you that he believed a word he was saying.

Because, yes, you might have met the boss once. But it was clear their bond was deeper than that. There was something profound in the affection they held for each other and in the faultless way they could communicate without ever saying a word. You wanted to understand it better but were still at a loss of how to ask. You worried that the simple: Neil, is John in love with you? - would not quite catch it. Even though you were 90% sure it was true.

“Which doesn’t mean I haven’t seen him look at you with literal heart eyes” shrugging, you pointed out the bullshit in that flawed evasion and used your free hand to tip his head, so Neil had no choice but to meet your gaze. This type of sentiment necessitated eye contact, “And I get it. I do” it was easy to drop the mask and just let him see.

See how much you cared. See how important he was, nearly faultless in your eyes. A precarious position to be in, but no less coveted. Because your admiration was a rare thing, and Neil knew that as his eyes widened, instantly showing hints of vulnerability and uncertainty. They always made him look younger, less hardened by life’s experiences, and more like the self-proclaimed romantic Neil was.

“Truly?” the quiet eagerness in the single-worded question made you grin.

It was adorable that he still needed to ask.

“Madly and deeply, too” cracking a smile as Neil caught up with your joke, you leaned back on his shoulder and rested your head on his neck.

You already knew that a mistake was about to be made. You could feel the question settling on your tongue, impossible to swallow or ignore. You wanted to ask him.

And so, you did.

“I have a strange question…” admittedly, the preamble could have been more thought through.

Less menacing, perhaps. You could see Neil’s frown appear from the vantage point of your head, lying on his shoulder. He glanced down at you, clearly trying to foresee what you were going to say before he drew blank and replied:

“That’s the best starter. Shoot,” his hand covered yours, still resting on his knee as Neil tipped the coffee cup, downing the remains.

Right. You closed your eyes for a split second and took a deep breath, hoping against hope that it would do something to calm your racing heart. (It didn’t). As much as the idea was perhaps the worst one you had ever had (maybe except for sleeping with Neil that first night), it was something you wanted. And you were unable to deny yourself anything. Which more than once proved to be an issue.

“So, you’ve said you have the week off now… And I’ve booked a weekend trip to Skegness to see a different production of The Nutcracker for research” the words left your mouth in a rush, all melting into one another, barely intelligible and followed with a question as soon as you took another greedy inhale “Would you perhaps want to come with?” once it was done, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the collar of his leather jacket.

His scent permeated the material, calming you down a little bit. You chose not to examine that fact too closely. Or at all. But before you could successfully hide from him, Neil shifted so that he could gently raise your head from his shoulder and asked:

“Skegness? That sounds like a rash, dumb idea” his gaze calmly searched your face for something while a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

It was not like you did not know the idea was ridiculous. Resisting the urge to swat him, you rolled your eyes and shrugged. That was still better than an outright rejection. Despite the judgement and ridicule.

“It might be,” forcing yourself to maintain eye contact, you chose to add a vulnerable note to an invite that otherwise could have seemed thoughtless. It was as if you were asking for the sake of it, when instead you asked because you desperately wanted him to join “I just need to go somewhere” anywhere, in fact.

Anywhere but here. Because suddenly London felt too much like home. Too comfortable and familiar. But none of that needed to be said. Not yet, perhaps.

With Neil still refusing to drop your gaze, you fought the urge to turn your head away from him and allowed yourself to stare back. To be seen. After what felt like hours, he shot you a quick smile and took your hand to tangle your fingers in reassurance. It always worked.

“Well, as it happens, I love reckless ideas and bad choices” Neil’s grin widened as you sighed with pretend exasperation and glanced at the Jubilee map above his head to ensure you had not somehow missed your stop.

Fortunately (or not), you still had roughly two minutes to commit a dozen of fuck ups. More or less.

“Do you?” always devoted to the cause, you leaned in closer, stopping just a breath away from his face and slowly dropped your gaze to his lips.

By now, it was a reflex. Something you could barely control and never had to force. Only now, with your resolve to take a step back, very much crumbling but still there, it was much more destructive. An instinct, going against everything you tried to believe. Against logic. It took you another second to catch yourself and raise your head again, barely stifling a quiet gasp when you found Neil transfixed, too. The boundless depths of his blue eyes almost begged you to stop trying to fight the inevitable. Again. But you could not.

You should not.

“Quite,” the word left his lips in a whisper as you lurched back and stood up quicker than he could process the movement.

You closed your eyes against the uncertainty in his eyes and raised your hand in a silent wave as the carriage doors opened at Southwark. It was rude. It should not be done to Neil, of all people.

But it was the only thing that made sense at that moment. Or so you tried to tell yourself.

***

When Cupid randomly suggested a trip to Skegness over the weekend, Neil, for his part, did not even try to pretend he did not want to come along. It was a fact that later filled him with shame, proving that he could not separate himself from her to the point where he stopped trying. He did not need to ask himself whether his answer would have been different if she proposed Slough or Aldershot as a destination. He knew that it would not change a thing.

Although, perhaps, it should’ve.

But, if Neil was certain of one thing, it was that he was a masochist. Through and through. Because what could go wrong over a weekend trip with a woman he was absolutely not in love with? Nothing, surely.

An hour and a half into the drive up from London that he had heroically volunteered for, Neil had yet to question the decision. Swiftly changing the lanes on M11 to ensure they did not accidentally end up in Cambridge, Neil glanced at the passenger seat only to find her still deeply in slumber. The nap, excused by a confession that the past few weeks of intense rehearsals had been tough on her, happened after they had left Barking, and the traffic eased. Neil could not possibly find it in himself to begrudge her. Even though he had been left alone with nothing but her ridiculous playlist, filled with Euro hits and his thoughts. Both of which were not the best company a man could ask for.

Admittedly, the past few weeks, Neil was eager for anything that would distract him from the narrative his brain was desperate to thread. He could tell that Cupid was distancing herself, suddenly shying away from leisurely touches and moves that could lead further than an affectionate kiss on the cheek. And, despite countless attempts at ignoring this evident development, Neil could not seem to do just that. Instead, it was a thought that attacked at least convenient moments, sowing doubts upon doubts in his mind. If he were braver, he would have asked. But there was no bravery among the confusing thoughts and feelings, rendering him helpless in the uncertainty.

In those difficult moments, Neil could sometimes face the fact that he was 90% sure he understood what made her withdraw like that. He had seen it before, usually in the faces of fellow Tenet agents after a difficult mission or a close call. That hard but seemingly sensible decision not to pursue anything with someone with a lowered life expectancy. It was safer that way. A careful move to ensure one’s heart would not be broken because of the worst happening. A step back.

It was something Neil expected to happen just as much as he feared. Because there was nothing left to do but let her steer their relationship in the way she saw fit. Embarrassingly enough, he was just happy to be her friend.

In the traditional, non-fucked up way, that did not entail sex, that is.

Unfortunately.

And if that was part of why he jumped on the weekend trip without sparing a thought to the contrary, then it was no one’s business but his. There.

“Whereabouts are we?” the innocent question coming from the passenger side made Neil startle, instantly dropping the lid on the intrusive thoughts.

Stealing a glance at Cupid, Neil noted her mussed hair and bleary eyes as she blinked repeatedly, looking out the window. There was a certain degree of cosiness in seeing her like this - sleepy-eyed and comfortably existing in his space. Despite the uncertainty in his veins, Neil had to admit it proved that her trust in him was unwavering. The idea offered a sliver of comfort as he focused his gaze back on the road, answering her question:

“We’ve just passed Cambridge” her stifled yawn made him grin as Neil passed a slower car and changed lanes to avoid yet another slip road towards whatever the fuck Swavesey was, “You can go back to sleep. I can follow the nav,” another glance at the screen told him they were yet to get lost, which was a plus. Yet, still, it was better to manage expectations, “More or less,” a smirk made its home on his face as Neil stole another glance at Cupid, immediately noting her answering smile.

She looked almost radiant in the rare autumn sun as she stretched her limbs like a cat and twisted her body to face him more comfortably. Suddenly, Neil was very grateful for having a task that required his full attention. Anything was better than staring at her and losing his mind more with every passing minute.

“That’s encouraging” the sarcastic tone seeped through her voice as she settled in the seat and replied, “I might bother you for a bit now” Neil knew she meant it to be a threat.

Except that it was anything but. It was a promise of a distraction and a way to know her even better. Something he could not deny himself if he tried.

“Splendid idea” there was no point in hiding the affection in his voice. Even less so as he risked a relatively safe opener, betraying his sole motive behind the conversation, “How are you?”

It was one thing that none of the non-stop text exchanges ever covered. Sure, he would ask, but she would rarely answer. After some time, Neil concluded that Cupid was not keen on sharing her burdens. At least, not the ones that counted. The only times he succeeded were the face-to-face conversation when she seemed eager enough to open up. He could only hope this was one of those moments.

“Honestly?” thankfully taking his silence as an agreement, Cupid sighed before she let the words out, “I think I’m fine, but also that fear of self-sabotage is very much there, so…” she paused as if collecting thoughts to share. Neil patiently waited for her to continue. It was already promising, fulfilling the untold wishes he had for this conversation, “And sometimes I feel like my problems are so damn insignificant, it’s ridiculous” scoffing with frustration, she briefly turned towards the car window as if needing to forget about his presence for a moment to say what she wanted “But then I doubt you can relate” he frowned upon hearing the indirect jab. It was not vicious or spoken with malintent, but it felt wrong to consider himself somehow above her based only on his professional occupation. But before Neil could open his mouth to protest, she asked, “How does it feel to be saving the world?” the wistfulness in her voice matched the faraway look in her eyes.

But even that distant gaze was focused on him, ensuring that she wanted to hear an answer. It was enough encouragement to get him to share something honest. But not without righting a wrong assumption first.

“I wouldn’t go that far. But I know what you mean” carefully adjusting the speed to fit the limits of the motorway extending before them, Neil gathered the remaining bravery to share the thoughts no one else would be willing to hear, “Sometimes the shit I worry about seems so fucking stupid when I go to work and sit through hours of meetings discussing what could happen if we mess up” never quite able to stop feeling things long enough to speak words that were not impassioned, Neil swallowed past the sudden spike of anxiety at the thought and chanced a glance at Cupid.

She was always the perfect distraction. So utterly unwilling to pretend just for the sake of it. So true to herself that Neil frequently found himself consumed by jealousy at her bravery. Even though he knew she would disagree with his judgement.

“Which is?” now, she levelled him with a sober stare as the question brought him back to the present.

Neil did not need to doubt whether she wanted an honest answer. That much was written on her face and the sudden tightness of her features, bereft of humour. He must have done a good enough job introducing Tenet to her if she already understood the stakes with minimal information. It was both a blessing and a curse.

“Nuclear catastrophe. And that’s the best scenario” he could not help the weight of the words as they settled in the space between them, harshly contrasted by the Eurovision hits coming from the speakers.

If the topic were any lighter, Neil knows he would have laughed. But there was no space for laughter when faced with Cupid’s silence and the knowledge that he was the cause. If not for him, she would have been peacefully unaware of the dangers that could happen to their world if things ever went wrong. He was yet to determine whether it was a good thing that she now knew. If the moral weight added to his tally had been worth it.

“Damn…” Cupid closed her eyes as she let out a deep sigh and rested her head against the headrest, staring at the road ahead for a beat. The next time she spoke, humour had crept back into her voice. Neil knew it was mostly for his sake, “So, you better not fuck it up then, sunshine” she reached past the gear stick to squeeze his thigh and just as quickly dove into the tote resting by her legs, clearly in search of something. None of that whiplash could have prepared him for her next question, “Do you fancy crisps?” raising the crinkling packet from the bag, she offered him a bright grin.

Only the mischievous spark in her eyes told Neil she knew what she was doing. And that she knew she was successful in what she had envisioned. As always.

“Cupid-” a groan of frustration cut through a plea that was best left unsaid anyway.

Mostly because Neil worried if he did begin to express even an ounce of the things she made him feel, he would not be able to stop. He did not want to think about what would happen between them then.

Yet, still, he should have known Cupid would be relentless.

“What?” faux innocence permeated the question as she noisily opened the crisps and popped one into her mouth.

Neil was helpless against the wave of affection that spread through his chest.

“Nothing” shaking his head, he took a cautious glance at the nav before choosing how to answer the question. He knew there was no way in hell Cupid would accept anything less but half an honest reply. That much he could give her easily, “Sometimes I think you’re the penance gods sent me for being a menace to society,” fondness filled his tone as he chanced another look at her, immediately noticing her widening grin.

He had hit the jackpot. That was the type of compliment Cupid would consider the highest praise. Not peans towards her beauty nor poems about her grace. Those were never needed. It was another thing he liked about her.

Too much, probably.

“Is that a compliment?” as expected, she latched onto the praise with the hunger of a wolf, all sharp teeth and unbridled joy.

She seemed almost aglow with it. The warmth kept spreading through his chest like a firework. Neil was beginning to worry he would soon catch fire.

“Of the highest degree” a nod was the best he could offer as he shot her a quick smile, hoping Cupid understood he meant every word of that unconventional adoration.

Somehow, he knew that she did. She always seemed to know what he meant.

“Well, then you better repent” with her blinding grin turned towards him, she picked up the abandoned packet of crisps and extended it towards him.

Neil knew two things: 1) he had to take a crisp, or she would not give him peace, and 2) an undefined sense of balance had settled on his shoulders when they finished the peculiar conversation. Both realisations had led him to believe that, perhaps, this weekend would not be as much of a disaster as he worried.

***

It took you less than half an hour to complete a loop of the Skegness city centre. If it even was worth that label. It took another half hour of wandering around the pleasure beach, with its screaming children and blaring music, for you to develop a minor yet persistent headache. If you were to point fingers, you would blame the sudden, yet not unexpected, ‘Baby Shark’ appearance as you strolled past a nautically themed rollercoaster. An abomination, in fact.

Yet still, you were the only one to blame for this, having urged Neil to visit the town not even an hour after you had made it to the accommodation. The quaint, little holiday park was 10 minutes away from Skegness and seemed like a comfortable place for two nights. (Thank fuck for two bedrooms – was a thought you had but did not dare say out loud). But even the picturesqueness of the spot could not eradicate the tension building underneath your skin. That panic simmering beneath the surface, urging you to move, do something, anything at all, but stay in a tiny holiday house with Neil. Alone. Vulnerable to questions you could not afford to answer. At least not yet.

So, with no weapons at your disposal, you bated your eyelashes and offered a sweet smile, effortlessly convincing Neil to visit the town a day early. A choice you had now began to despise.

Supposedly, that had been your penance for being a coward.

Now, sat in the warm pub booth, waiting for Neil to pay the bill after your dinner, something he had insisted upon despite your protests, you were beginning to understand the depths of that punishment.

There was only one thing you could think of that would help. As soon as Neil returned to the table, the bill paid and a triumphant smile on his face, you extended the proposal:

“I saw an ice bar close just round the corner… Fancy a drink?” standing up from the booth, you wiggled your eyebrows and offered the most enticing smile you could muster.

Not that it was such a big deal. But ending this relatively taxing day with a drink sounded as close to perfection as one could get after everything that happened. You also hoped it would perhaps give you that necessary bout of bravery should Neil finally start asking the questions you expected.

Like why you haven’t kissed him for weeks.

You suppressed a wince at the thought before Neil could notice as his gaze settled on you with a slight surprise. After all, the plan had been to get food and an Uber back to the accommodation. And yet, here you were, changing your mind again. Except that Neil did not seem annoyed as he regarded you closely for a beat before asking:

“With like the ice sculptures and shit?” without waiting for an answer, he took your hand in his and tugged you towards the exit.

Grinning wide, you allowed him to lead you down the street as you tightened the hold over his hand and nodded.

“Mhmm” catching his side glance, you shrugged, throwing a random confession into the mix, “I’ve always wanted to visit one,” just so your sudden request did not seem so illogical.

Looking up to check the surroundings, you located the street where you spotted the sign and tugged on Neil’s hand to direct him towards it. Somehow, you knew he would not be putting up a fight about any of this.

“In that case… how could I refuse?” the humour in his voice widened your grin, and you forced yourself not to look at him until you were standing by the bar, vulnerable to any distractions.

As soon as your eyes landed on his beautiful face, you knew it had been the right call. With the sun long set and the clock tower nearby lit with a multitude of colourful lightbulbs, his golden hair had caught fire. As always, it was in complete disarray, half falling into his striking blue eyes, all so perfectly Neil that the affection in your chest could barely be contained. For a split second, not for the first time, you had considered breaking the rules you had set and surging forward into the kiss that seemed to be waiting just around the corner. But you couldn’t.

Instead, you took a tiny step back and shot him a smirk, falling back on what had never failed you before:

“I dunno… you could always tell me to fuck myself” even the joke felt somehow unsteady, tainted with the slightest catch in your voice.

It almost felt like an act of desperation.

But then, again, you supposed it was one.

“You overestimate my strength, Cupid” when you returned Neil’s stare, you found him smiling at you fondly, clearly not bothered by the sudden change of plans.

Before you could lose all sense of logic, you offered Neil a grateful smile and started towards the bar entrance.

Without any expectations, except for the need for an alcoholic drink and a curious place that would captivate your unbalanced sanity for a short while, you were sure this would be the perfect choice. As soon as you made it inside, paid the fee (this time, you did not let Neil get away with it), and donned the provided heavy coats and gloves, your assumptions had been confirmed.

The small room, guarded by a heavy door keeping the freezing temperatures intact inside, was lit with blue, purple and pink hues, all reflecting off the ice sculptures and the bar itself. As the cold hit your face and Neil closed the door behind you, you pulled up the hood and took in the surroundings, pleasantly surprised to have only one other party as a company. It was better that way. Easier to breathe and take time in soaking up the peculiar setting you had found yourself encased within. Your gaze flitted over the sculptures, noting their detailed artistry, and then towards the block of ice used as a bar, tended by two servers in their thermal attires. Without letting yourself think too hard about the instinct, you reached for Neil’s hand and led him towards the bartender, drink tokens at a ready. Reminded of one of the very first times you had met Neil outside of your Wednesday shared commute, you turned towards him with the drink menu in hand and offered a smirk:

“Will you do the honours?” seeing his hesitance, you took a step closer and leaned in, ensuring the rest of your intended tease would not be overheard by anyone else, “I remember you mentioned something about special talents… and I don’t mean the stuff you’ve done to me on your knees” delivering the punch with a teasing edge in your voice, you glanced at Neil just in time to see him burst out in laughter.

The complimenting blush tinted his cheeks as Neil hung his head for a beat, seemingly to compose himself, and then met your stare with a signature smirk.

“With such an invite, how could I not?” extending his hand for the menu with a flourish, Neil sent you a wink before he focused on the selection.

His furrowed brows drew you in as you leaned against the bar and let your eyes trace his features with concerning affection and detail. The blush on his cheeks has been overtaken by the flush caused by the cold, reaching as far back as the tips of his ears and nose. His blonde hair, backlit by the myriad of colours, made you itch to reach out and rake your fingers through the silky strands. Tightening the fist in your pocket, you blinked against the ridiculous thoughts and forced yourself to look away in search of any empty booth. At least you could be somewhat useful.

Wordlessly, you touched Neil’s shoulder to motion at the booth in a corner and started in that direction. Settling onto the bench (also made from ice, covered with a sheepskin), you let out an involuntary sigh. Considering the current situation was entirely your own doing, you did not feel like you had a right to complain. So, you didn’t.

Except in the quiet of your head, where no one else could hear or judge. Right now, as you watched Neil place an order at the bar, undoubtedly chatting up the bartender, there was only one complaint to be raised. A singular issue – you did not know how you were supposed to stay true to the limits you had set for yourself over this weekend. With his constant presence, it was getting increasingly tricky, and in those rare moments alone, you wondered how many more close encounters it would take until you snap. Until you say fuck it and cross the line once more.

The increasingly dire thoughts were interrupted by Neil’s approach, his smug smile telling you all you needed to know about the success of the endeavour:

“What did you get for me?” you watched with increasing curiosity as Neil set the glass (made from ice, naturally) in front of you and sat opposite you.

The light blue drink, decorated with a slice of pineapple and decorative snowflakes, had captured your attention without a fault. Before Neil could reply, you picked up the glass carefully and scrutinized it.

“Try it, and you shall see” the playful glimmer in his gaze drew out your uncertain smile as you raised the glass to your lips and took a sip, “So?” Neil leaned forward, seemingly anticipating your verdict so passionately that he did not even care for his drink, waiting to be tasted.

Admittedly, he had every right to be smug about it. The fruitiness of what you now recognized as Curacao blue liqueur mixed with coconut and rum filled your taste buds as you took another sip just after the first one. Whatever it was that Neil chose – it was perfect. You could tell he was able to read as much from your face as his grin widened. There was no point in holding back the praise, no matter how much you dreaded his ego inflating.

“Damn, you’re good at this” shooting him an impressed smile, you set down the glass and propped your chin on your hand, asking a question that had been long in the making, “How do you do it?”

You watched as Neil took a sip from his drink – some unidentifiable orange and red concoction – and raised his gaze to meet yours with a surprise in his eyes. Your question was not as apparent as you would have thought. A rogue thought appeared on the horizon, suggesting that perhaps you were the first to have ever asked him about it. You did not know why, but the idea made your chest tighten with pain.

To wash down the strange sensation, you took yet another sip of the drink and allowed the alcohol burn to do its thing.

“I suppose you can call it intuition. It comes in handy in intelligence taskforces, and if there are additional perks… Well, I don’t mind having an ace up my sleeve when it comes to wooing the ladies and gentlemen” closing the brief explanation with a telling half-smile, Neil seemed to drown his unwelcome thoughts in a drink as he avoided your eyes.

Only there was nothing in what he said that could have warranted your negative opinion. Nothing outside the realm of things you already knew or suspected. Nothing but facts that only made your affection for Neil grow. Ignoring the uncertainty, you stilted his fidgeting fingers with the weight of your palm as you decided to fall back on a trusted way that would get rid of the awkward pauses:

“So, is that your go-to seduction technique?” punctuating the question with a hand squeeze, you waited for Neil to raise his head before you shot him a smirk.

An open invitation to indulge in the conversation only the two of you could have. To stop overthinking confessions that changed absolutely nothing. You knew Neil understood the message when he returned the squeeze and met your gaze with his intense stare.

“One of them, yes” without backing away from the small-scale staring contest you had just entered, he flipped your joined hands over the table so that your hand was palm-up, covered with his.

You were definitely not against that development. Although, perhaps, you should have been.

“What are the others?” because a foresight was something you never quite grasped, you arched an eyebrow in what you knew Neil would read as a challenge.

Another permission to keep going. To repeat the patterns that had never failed you before. To allow the magnetism to do its job. Like you always knew it would.

“You know them all, Cupid” shrugging lightly with the answer, Neil glanced down at your joined hands, and you could tell that was the turning point. An idea had taken root in his mind, and all you could do was wait as he took off one glove with an almost perfectly smooth move. Your mouth parted in anticipation as Neil covered your hand again and slipped his fingers underneath the glove over your wrist. His fingers lightly stroked your skin over the pulse point as he looked up again, undoubtedly finding you entranced, “I’ve thoroughly seduced you,” the corner of his mouth quirked in the signature smirk.

He looked incredibly self-pleased. So much so that you briefly considered punching that smug look off his face. But then he would have ceased tracing circles on your skin, and it was not something you were willing to part with. Not yet.

So, you looked back at his outrageously beautiful face and said the only thing that made sense in the moment. A repartee handcrafted for the occasion.

“You’ve also thoroughly fucked me” dropping the tone a notch not to scandalize too many of the unfortunate fellow bar clients, you leaned forward so that your knee could bump into his underneath the table.

The sudden shock of warmth elicited by the simple contact was worth all the secondhand thoughts you evaded as Neil continued his meticulous caress and offered you a satisfied smile.

“Which I don’t regret, my dear” the endearment was highlighted with a tap of his finger against your pulse point.

You could tell he felt the thundering heartbeat underneath your skin. But the pause, strengthened by a meaningful look between you, kicked you into a mild panic. All because this was precisely what you were supposed to avoid. A line you were not supposed to cross ever again seemed to have almost vanished.

How had you managed to fuck up your resolutions so quickly and so spectacularly was beyond your comprehension. You stifled a wince as you retracted your hand from Neil’s tempting hold and picked up the glass with a half-smile ready:

“Cheers to that” without waiting for Neil to catch up, you downed the drink and relished in the burn it had left behind.

The pleasant buzz of the alcohol in your veins would hopefully be enough. At least enough to ignore Neil’s worried look as he finished his drink and wordlessly stood up to get the next round. You did not need to ask him for a repeat of the previous choice. He already knew.

You marinated in the realization until he returned to the table, sliding you the glass almost with resignation. As though Neil was upset that you had cut short the previous conversation. It was concerning that he had even noticed it happening.

Before you could find another topic to fill in the sudden silence, Neil asked the question that seemed safest, all things considered:

“Why Skegness?” an undertone of curiosity returned to his face as Neil leaned forward, seemingly eager to understand.

To know every single one of your thoughts, no matter how ridiculous. Or inexplicable. Admittedly, the whiplash of the two conversations, back-to-back, had you reeling as you took a deep breath and attempted to untangle the complex web of your mind to offer him something substantial:

“I think I just needed an escape, and this was the first thing that came up” shrugging lightly, you closed your eyes for a beat, gathering the courage to add more depth to the confession. With anyone else, you would not have felt the need to share, but for whatever reason, Neil escaped any bounds you had set up for every other relationship. You did not particularly enjoy dwelling on that fact for too long, “I know it doesn’t make sense, but sometimes I like to believe that if I leave London for a bit, maybe when I come back, the fears won’t be there anymore” with each word, you could feel the conviction waning, replaced by the crippling fear that Neil would find you ludicrous, not worth his time “Maybe in my absence, they too will disappear, and I’ll be able to start anew. Without burden,” there was something in his gaze as he held yours, not willing to let go even for a second, that made you continue, delivering the final notes of the confession with a resigned sigh “But then I know I carry them with me no matter where I go, so… It’s stupid” unable to withstand the weight of his gaze any longer, you looked down and picked up the glass to take a hearty swig.

The drink still tasted just as good as that first sip. But it barely eradicated the lingering shame, thriving in the silence. Sharing those most sincere and private thoughts was always complicated. Something you avoided unless you had no other choice. But for some unknown and terrifying reason, it was different with Neil. All he had to do was ask, and off you were, running your mouth like an idiot, spilling embarrassing confessions as though he needed to hear them.

And yet, somehow, Neil was undeterred. As though he wanted to know.

“It’s everything but stupid” as if able to hear your internal spiral, Neil bumped his knee into yours underneath the table to draw back your attention. Once you had begrudgingly complied, looking up at him with a pained expression, he continued, “A change of scenery, no matter how questionable or brief, can do wonders” despite yourself, you cracked a smile at the implied shade towards the lovely town you had found yourselves in. Neil’s resulting grin was a good enough reason to do so, “But the same goes for talking things over so… I’m here for you if you need me,” punctuating the sentiment with an affectionate smile, Neil met your gaze and once again extended his hand towards you, laying it palm-up on the table.

It was a clear message. One that you were free to ignore if you so choose. The trouble was that whether Neil knew it or not, there was no reality where you could deny him. Not now. Not with the alcohol buzzing in your veins and the recent memory of his touch on your skin. Now, you had no choice.

So, willfully ignorant of the blush on your cheeks, you met him halfway and allowed your fingers to rest in a loose tangle. There was no need to think about what the reply should be.

“Thank you,” offering a bashful smile, you took a deeper breath before allowing yourself to confess what he had not yet heard and what needed to be said, “You genuinely might be my best friend,” lacking the bravery to meet his gaze, you felt Neil’s fingers squeeze yours, forcing you to keep going “Which might be surprising considering how short we know each other, but… it just makes sense” as soon as the words were out of your mouth, you knew they were right. It made sense. Perhaps too much sense, at times. Like now, when you finally looked up to find Neil staring back at you with a curious look in his eyes. Unable to decipher it and not lose your mind in the process, you weakly gestured with your unoccupied hand at the space between you, strengthening the point “This makes sense,”

You did not want to think what would have happened if Neil had denied your bold statement right there and then. The following rejection would kill you long before shame or bad decisions ever could. Even if he would not mean it like that. That was the trouble with sharing confessions and the sincerest feelings – you never knew what you would get in return.

But before you could spiral further, feeling the familiar pull of anxiety make its way through your system, Neil squeezed your hand once more and replied:

“Yes, it does” the three words were filled with enough fondness and conviction to cut your ruinous ruminations short in a flash.

And, if just a moment later, they were replaced with another set of anxious thoughts, reminding you of lines you could not cross and inconvenient feelings that should never be present, then it was your business only. You buried them under pleasant discussions that filled the next fifteen minutes it took you both to finish the drinks and decide it was high time you left the bar. After all, catching a cold was not on the itinerary.

By the time you got up from the seat, it almost seemed like the tides of the conversations had turned for good. You had moved on past the worrying silences and tension between you, bursting with possibilities and disasters in the making.

Except that it was only an illusion.

Because as soon as you were both standing, Neil stilted. His gaze clouded once more with something you could not decipher, except that it was not something you had seen before. He searched your face for a beat, seemingly frozen in a decision you were not partial to. You got as far as opening your mouth to ask what was going on before Neil’s eyes focused, and he muttered the simplest of phrases:

“Fuck it,” he swore as he closed the gap between you and cupped your cheek to pull you in for a kiss.

As his mouth crashed against yours, all you could think was how much you had missed it. His taste filled your senses as you rose on your tiptoes to get even closer, throwing back the hood of your coat with the sudden movement. That first contact broke the walls you had tried to instil, and there was no holding back now as you moved your lips against his in a familiar dance. Neil’s hesitancy soon gave way to firmness as he confidently prodded with his tongue, urging your mouth to open and let him delve in. There was nothing you could do but comply with the unspoken request.

As soon as his tongue brushed against yours, you let out a quiet whimper, the sound lost between you, but you knew Neil heard it. He pulled you imperceptibly closer with his arm around your waist and groaned as though unable to hold back. It did not matter that you were in public. That you were making a scene. That the kiss should not have happened.

Still, after another beat spent blissfully kissing, the reality caught up, making you part with a sigh. Despite knowing better, you leaned back in to kiss him briefly, sealing the deal and resting your forehead against his. Just for a moment. Until you were brave enough to open your eyes and find Neil looking back at you like he always did. But where you knew he could see how shaken you were by the development, Neil appeared in control. Almost blissed out by what has happened. The sight gave you the necessary courage as you grasped his hand in yours and squeezed it, hoping to convey a simple message: I’m sorry.

It had to be enough for now. You swallowed past the anxiety and shot him a smile, hoping the daze would keep him from seeing the confusion in your eyes. Keep him from understanding how much you did not know what to do. How to act with the lines long crossed and no regret to be found in the depths of your heart.

***

Neil closed the sliding doors of the holiday house quietly and stepped off the wooden terrace to feel the soft grass underneath the soles of his shoes. This late, close to midnight, the holiday park was quiet, the silence only sometimes interrupted by a burst of louder laughter or a dog barking. He unfolded the blanket gathered from the pull-out sofa (and his designated bed) and placed it on the patch of grass. With a quiet grunt, he sat on the fleece cover and tipped his head up to look at the night sky. With his gaze slowly adjusting to the darkness, Neil could already tell the view was much better than he could ever find in London. Here, at least five miles from Skegness, it was possible to make out some constellations. Sure, it was still far from ideal, but it was something.

A good enough distraction from the fact that approximately four metres away, Cupid was showering and getting ready for bed in the bedroom. Briefly, she battled him on that, eager to claim the sofa as hers and offer him the bed instead. But Neil could not possibly accept that. The stubborn gentleman gene in his DNA, the same one that always insisted the lady must get off at least once before he would be able to come, was quite adamant on that front. So, without allowing room for discussion, he gently pushed her towards the bedroom doorway and ordered her to bed. She did not argue.

She did, however, insinuate that Neil could join her. For a moment, that is. Just long enough to ensure the aforementioned mutual orgasm and a brief respite from the tension. But, despite how enticing all of that sounded, he declined, somehow knowing that the kiss had not solved anything. It did not change her mind. It certainly did not suddenly untangle the complex knot between them. Sex would only make that worse. And while Neil was brave enough to take the first step, he knew this would have to come from her. Only from her. As an action instead of empty words. An active choice. Only that could break the impasse.

Well, either that or her outright rejection, sealing the deal on ‘just friends’ bullshit Cupid seemed set on. But, after tonight and the kiss she certainly did not reject, Neil did not quite believe that other option was still on the table. Sue him.

Sighing against the inconvenient recollections of how she whimpered when his tongue slipped inside her mouth, Neil reclined on the blanket and focused on the skies. It tended to do the trick, calming his mind on stressful missions and whenever life got too hard. There was something almost therapeutic about looking up at the stars and distant planets and being reminded of the insignificance of everything else. Of the vastness of the universe and how moments like this did not matter in the grand scheme of things. None of the heartaches and regrets held any importance. Not really.

Now, feeling the heavy weight of the day settle upon his shoulders, Neil stared at the inky skies as his eyes easily located the familiar clusters. The faithful Polaris was there, guiding him every step of the way. While it sometimes felt silly to admit whenever he was in the southern hemisphere, and Polaris was nowhere to be found, Neil felt untethered. As if something was missing and could not be replaced until he returned home. Other times, he was keen to admit that feeling was also something akin to insanity.

Sending an affectionate smile at both bears gracing the sky, Neil settled his gaze towards the west, locating his favourite neighbour within the solar system – Saturn. It shone brighter than any star, even this close to the Moon and dimmed by its light. It was close to the edge of darkness, likely to disappear within the half hour. But Neil knew that while the planet was still present, keeping him company, he would stay there. Thinking, resting, and letting the cold seep into his bones to remind him he was still alive.

Only like this, he could hope to process the evening and not make a mistake. Like knocking on the bedroom door and asking her to take pity on him. He knew she would. She would forget her inhibitions and do whatever he needed. But then, once the passion had burnt out and it was time to sleep on the sofa, Neil knew the regret would set and settle. No, that would not do at all. He had to be patient and let her realise this was meant to be. Just like she said – it makes sense. They make sense.

And not in the overly romantic version of the notion. That was not needed. He didn’t need that. He just needed her. As a friend, as someone he could be himself with. Someone who accepted him and sometimes even needed him. Even if only for a night.

Yes, that would be enough. It would be.

So, without letting himself get too ahead, Neil stayed on the blanket until Saturn disappeared from the horizon and the dew nipped at his clothes. Silently, he crept back inside the house and closed the terrace door, mindful of every move. From inside the bedroom, he could hear her quiet snores. The sound made him smile, swallowing the dangerous affection way down where it would not be found (until tomorrow) and turning off the lights he did not need.

This was enough.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

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shelbgrey · 1 year ago

Text

Being in a love triangle with Dean and Cas

Paring: Dean winchester x reader x Castile (not destile!)

Summary: headcanons about an angel and a hunter fall in love with you.

A/n: this won the newest voting thing :)

MasterList

“They're both in love with her” Sam sighed.

“my money is on Dean” Bobby said drinking his beer.

Okay... So, get ready for every single thing to be a contest. they're both extremely stubborn and even the simplest of things will be turned into a competition of who can do it better, even if Cas doesn't understand.

Since Cas is clueless about most human actions, he usually tries to copy Dean but ends up doing it in a more goofy or messed up way.

Cas wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, he's your Gardian Angel and the rules in heaven are pretty strict. He couldn't help but fall in love with your compassion and goofy personality.

You and Dean had always been on and off, he deeply cares about you and would even say he loves you, but with you both being hunters he's always afraid to lose you or he thinks he's not good enough.

Cas didn't know how to handle the feeling he's never had to deal with, every time he'd see Dean put his arm on you or flirt with you, cas would feel his fist clinch and he'd get so angry.

“I don't know what's wrong with me, my chest is heaving and... I just feel so pissed” Cas said to Sam one day.

“your either jealous or...” Sam stoped. “your not in love with y/n, are you?”

Cas didn't know, but he realized his change in adatued and thoughts. As your Gardian Angel he'd would often go with you to protect you beacuse that was his job, now he would literally push Dean to the side to go on a hunt with you.

Remember when I said you and Dean would often be off and on again? Well Cass has seen two break-ups, and this would be the only time he'd put his feelings aside. He's your best friend and he dose know when you need a shoulder to cry on.

Anyway, Dean would catch on quickly, he cares about Cas but he cares about you more. So challenge accepted.

He wasn't gonna lose you to a baby in a trench coat.

Dean is often very forward and flirty, you were used to his complements and dirty jokes. But when he realized he could use you to Cas he'd turn up the flirting to 100%, which would often make you uncomfortable... You weren't used to him acting like that.

But underneath all the flirting, he's genuine and what he's saying is true.

Suprisenly Cas would become very charming. He wears his heart on his sleeve. He loves he can easily express himself around you and learn about human life without being judged.

I also think Cas is good at knowing when to pump the brakes if he ever steps a line or goes too far. Dean sometimes doesn't and sometimes he forgets that he doesn't need to use the same tactics he used to use bar girls.

If you get hurt Cas will warp his coat around you and heal you up, if it's really bad Cas and Dean will literally start arguing.

One time it got so bad you probably wouldn't still be in this damn triangle if Sam didn't take you to the hospital.

That's when they realized that they really need to put their differences aside, it wasn't just about them, it was about you too.

��she means everything to me... I want her to be happy” Dean says to Sam. “and what if she's chooses Cas?”

“she won't... Just because he's her guardian angel doesn't mean he can make her happy”

Dean was so scared to lose you while Cass just didn't know how to express himself, there been many opportunities for Cas but he'd always chicken out.

What you hated most about this whole situation is that Cas and Dean were turning on each other. You knew they were best friends and you couldn't help but think this, no girl is worth losing your best friend over.

As it went on you got more and more attention, you didn't want that. Then Sam and Bobby's secret poll only grew more bets as time went on.

Jack was so confused, he saw you as a mom and Cas as his dad. So he really just wants you two to be together. He watched the parent trap and used some of the tactics, Sam gently told him to stay out of it.

If Dean would make you a mix tape, Cas would find an even more romantic gesture. During the time you and Dean did date he learned that you were a simple girl and didn't like fancy stuff.

Cas would go to Sam or Jody for advice. Sam would suggest flowers, expensive places while Jody would remind him to just be himself and remember the stuff your actually interested in.

He's been your Gardian Angel for years, so he knows your likes and dislikes. He was so happy when he found a copy of a novel you've been surching for, he loved the feeling of you wrapping your arms around him and cheering that you finally got the book.

“thank you Cas, your the best!”

Gabriel, who liked to stir the pot in the situation was on cas' side. He would sometimes mess somthing up for one of them or just watch one of their planes fail. This was a better love story than twilight in his opinion.

One day Cas found a ring in Dean's room, it's literally not what you guys think. Dean was his mom's and he just wanted to look at it.

Cas watched enough movies with you and thought it was an engagement ring. He felt his heart pounded, he also relized he's watched way too much TV with you. He remembered watching Grey's anatomy with you, he remembered you crying with Mark Sloan died and gave his 'if you love someone' speach.

“I wish I could experience that... A guy not caring about the consequences and just expressing he loves someone” you told him way back when.

That's when he had enough, he didn't care if Dean was there or not he's was gonna tell you. “I love you y/n... I love everything about you, even things I don't understand... I still love”

He told you to think everything through. As much as he loved you, he didn't want you making any hasty decisions or let what he said cloud your mind.

A couple of days later, Dean came to you with the same heart filled love speach after a rough hunt. “I love you... I know I don't show it much or express it, but belive me when I say your the best thing that's ever happened to me”

You had so much to think about and during that time you never felt so overwhelmed, your heart would always pound when you thought about them.

You spent almost three nights just laying awake in bed thinking about them, there was logic and there was reason.

The logical choice would be Dean, you could grow old with him and have a family. After Jack, Cas was terrified to have children with a human. Just because Dean was haman didn't make it a logical choice, but you guys been through so much. There been many night you guys spent patching up wounded parts of your bodies or cleaning up blood after a hunt.

Logically, Cas would be safer. Castile can protect you and heal you with just a brush of his thumb. Just because he was clueless doesn't mean he didn't know how to make a woman's heart pound in the best way possible. Cas knew your deepest fears and kept secrets for years, he knew everything about you.

Positive reasons would bring up the way Dean would make you laugh. Or how he could make you smile no matter how mad you were.

You though about how warm his bear hugs were and how good he smelled.

Dean was a worrior and he would take a bullet for you. You were always his main priority and you never felt that with someone before him.

Even if he didn't know how to interact with humans, he knew how to take care of you. He knew when you need to talk or need a hug. He would catch on to your Quirks, like how you'll nibble on your lip when your doing research or reading.

He'd notice the little wrinks on your forehead when your mad or laughing. He'd know all your different smiles and the meanings of them.

You love whem you hug him you'd feel his wings wrap around you.

What you might not know is Cas would give up immortality for you, he'd become human if it meant spending What humans thought forever was.

“I don't know what to do Sammy” you sighed.

“stop using your brain, what dose your heart say?” he asked. “you'll know the right decision when the time comes”

The next day you took a deep breath and walked down the bunker hallway, Cas and Dean's were right across from each other. Dean's door was beaten up and had band stickers on it. Cas was newer and had 'Cas' place' carved in it.

If you chose Castile:

If you chose him, you didn't go directly to him. You knew he was the one you just didn't know how to do it. When you finally got the courage, Sam interrupted with a paranormal case.

It was hard, you got whipped around like crazy and thrown through windows, the vengeful spirit wasn't gonna let up.

The spirit through your blade at you and it went straight to the gut. You were already bleeding and weak, so this wasn't helping.

You crumbed in Castile's arms and he started to panic. He used his trench coat to applie presher to your wounds.

“Sam! Dean! Help me!”

You coughed and placed your hand on his cheek making him look at you. His watery blue eyes looked at you with so much panic.

You smiled and pulled him closer to you. “I love you Cas... So much”

“I love you too... Hold still, I got you” he placed his lips on yours while his hands healed all your cuts and bruises.

Side note... You also adopt Jack, he finally had parents and he couldn't be happier.

-a week later...

“Balls! I lost $200” Bobby grumbled, you gave the boys a questioning look.

“you beted on us?” you asked Sam, He shrugged. “hey, at least you got $600 for your honeymoon” Sam joked, you took the notebook with all the bets written down and hit him in the head.

If you chose Dean:

You knocked on his door, he when whipped it open a smile immediately formed on his face. “hey, sweetheart”

“can we talk?” you asked softly. Dean nodded as his heart pounded, he didn't know what to expect.

“if this this about what I sa-”

“I love you” you said cutting him off.

He pulled you to his chest and immediately slammed his lips on yours, he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “thank God... I love you too”

#Supernatural #Supernatural headcanons #Dean winchester #Jensen Ackles #Dean winchester headcanons #Castiel #Misha Collins #Castiel x reader #Castiel headcanons #Supernatural imagines #Dean winchester x reader

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rayssion · 1 year ago

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Let's chat about Magnus Chase and the gods of Asgard!!

So not me saying 'tomorrow' then proceed to delay that tomorrow for as long as possible, not my fault though! Each time I decide to write the review people just be like "oh, look at her, she seems at peace, let me just go.... Annoy her" that's my family summarised btw.

But yeah, we're finally here!

First off, the general rating for me is 4.5 for the entire series.

Now let's talk about somethings:

As a matter of fact, there's nothing I hate in this books like wth why dose it have to be this good??? Which translates to: I'm just going to fangirl, that's it, just FANGIRL.

I also want to establish that I didn't know not even a single thing about Norse mythology before reading these books. I didn't even know what Norse meant guys, I'm hopless like that. And even after they explained them a little my brain is still stuck at the "they're fancy vikings" setting lol I'm sorry.

So my whole Norse "knowledge" comes from, you guessed it, how to train your dragon🤡. It's bad, I know I know, yet it's still a start right? Like dude I never watched any Thor movie before (in my defense, it's not horror, and I enjoy horror) so just to put it simply, I don't know shit about Norse mythology.

Which is good btw!! Me not knowing anything about the mythology is actually good to measure how much Rick is good at explaining things that are totally new.

The first book took me two days to finish because it's like an introduction, so there were many new words and terms that my small brain couldn't keep track with, so I suppose you can really enjoy the series as a reread more than first time reading. Guys, it took me days to learn how to pronounce ginunngagap. So unless you already have a background on Norse mythology (not jumping into the books like stupid me) I feel like one's can't see the books true potential.

Alright, so we laid the ground about me being an uncultured swine, now we have the writing: we got the classic Rick's first person pov writing style that he went for in the original series pjo. But I got to note that it clearly improved, I can see that he was trying to step out of narrator Percy's shadow as he wrote mcga and toa, seeing that he wrote Magnus as an oblivious kid who's trying to stay out of everyone's business as much as he can, and he wrote Lester with no heroism in him whatsoever at the start. So clearly he wanted something to add contrast and volume to his universe and that's quite good. He achieved his goal with toa much more than in mcga in my opinion. Magnus, as lovely as he is, still finds time to roast people the good old Percy Jackson way, in other words you can see the resemblance between the two characters at some points. (I didn't include tkc because for me, Sadie and Carter are like Percy devided into two people, the fierce rushy personality went with Sadie, and the trying-to-pretend-to-be-calm-so-as-to-improvise-a-plan personality went with Carter, yet the two of them can be be snarky at their times).

To be Frank with you guys, not much of a character development happens during the books, I mean yes, Sam stands against her dad, and we get Amir into the picture, but yeah that's it. I guess the character who got the most change was Randolph, we love a little remedy arc at the end.

Oh other thing I like to point, Muslims don't call mosques you know "mosques" we call them Masjids (Masjid, sing.) I see it's a little slip but I prefer if it never happened, because mosque actually means "house of mosquito" so, yeah.

We also have the matter of Sam's hijab, I'd like to say that's not how being a hijabi works but I don't want to start a religious war here. Let's just say, you don't just wear your hijab when you want and not wear it when you don't want. What's the point then, if I can easily just go with my head uncovered? But we're not having this conversation, most of you won't be interested in this anyways.

And another thing! I've seen all these fanarts of Alex in the wedding dress (because I'm a sucker for Alex) and I wanted to point out, Alex was disguised as Samirah, Samirah is Muslima so her wedding dress would be, you know, Muslim friendly? Idk. But yeah, it should at least be ancle lengthed with high neck and long sleeves and the veil must be thick to cover her hair, like a hijab. Also it should be wide/big a little not clenching to her body. Just a little advice for artists there :).

Now that we spoke about Sam, can we talk about Alex? Tbh I like, knew nothing about genderfluidism(?) before this book (I read it on some blogs here on Tumblr and I imagined something totally different so I'll spear you my pathetic story) so it was nice learning new things with Rick. Like bro, in my head Alex is mostly a boy yet when I rant to my aunt I mostly use she/her. It confused the heck out of me during the first chapters actually. But I'm proud to say that I FIGURED OUT THAT LOKI WAS HER/HIS MOM LIKE BY MYSELF WAY BEFORE THE BIG REVEAL SO YEAH I'M HELLA PROUD.

I love Alex. Nothing else to say, I'm infatuated.

And yet if I'm infatuated with Alex then I'm fucking ready to die for Magnus at any given time! The boy is just so adorable!! He's so sweet even if he's being sarcastic like I just want to kidnap him and keep him in my pocket forever! I wanna hug him and pat his back, ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead because he deserves it! I just love him guys! Everything about him is just so endearing even if he was being a coward he's still lovely! I know I'm not making any sense here I just want you to know that I'm head over heels for him. Also I wanted to say that one of the things I really admired about his character is that he's never the fighter, I love how everyone else would be plunging into the battle and he'd just stand there waiting for either a chance to bargain with the enemy or an injury that he must heal. I love how Rick went out of the line this time and chose a god that, tbh, we'd never hear about him on regular basis. Like in pjo we had our protagonist Percy, son of Poseidon who's one of the big three, tkc we have Carter and Sadie channelling the power of Hores and Isis, major gods and Hores is the king or the gods, hoo's heroes are kids of the Olympians and Apollo is like, an Olympian god himself. So it was a nice turn to have Frey a neutral god who's concern is to live in peace, having our protagonist's main power to be healing or like disarming people, nothing big or fancy, yet it fits so much! Like my boy just wants to live a simple quite life (with a transgender genderfluid partner if possible and practically canon gay parents) even when there's an enemy he's like "can't I just go stand there and then a miracle happens and I don't need to fight them anymore?" Gosh I love him.

Magnus and Lester are just so relatable and so average-human-coded that you can't help but love them!

And I liked how most of the characters are also lovable, like the whole floor 19? They're just the best family and I'd be so delighted to spend eternity with them (till Ragnarok at least) I really love their dynamics. And then we have Blitz and Hearth and oh boy how much do I love hearth! I was like that's my soulmate out there pretty much since he was introduced. I'm not joking guys, these people out there have one of the best found families ever.

I also wanted to note that I'm kind of a sucker for villains like especially those who are antihero much. So, confession time, I kinda liked Luke back in pjo, I liked Set in tkc, and like Apollo himself I might simped once or twice for the emprors. The thing I wanted to say is! First book I like liked liked Loki, ngl till the end I found him fancy. Like if he wasn't so much interested in Ragnarok and world ending and whatever I might even put him with my favourite characters. Like, why do villains have to be hot?? If you don't want me to simp then don't make them hot! (What am I doing guys, I must seek help wtf)

Another topic, people would be oohhh percabeth omg omg and I'd be awww big sister Annabeth is the best! Like have you seen those Annabeth and Magnus scenes??? Bro let me tell you I'm fucking dead, like they're the best cousins out there, like that's so cuttee!!

This's a p.s actually but I wanted to say another thing, about the ending of the ship of the dead, yes it was emotional, yes I teared up. But don't you guys feel like there's much more to it? Like I'm sorry but how could we not return to the fact that Magnus can talk to birds now (Disney Princess™)? Or how in the first place can he talk to them, hearth himself doesn't know if his father had the ability. Speaking about fathers, the visions that Magnus saw about Alex's father, are we just going to pass them like they never happened? Guys idk I feel like there are some plot holes that might be left intentionally (hopefully for a next book sometime) and I also feel like there's something wrong with the gods, like the last scenes we had with them, I might be paranoid but I really feel like Frey was hiding something. Anyways yeah, that's what I wanted to add.

So this barely covers anything from the feelings I had reading this series (because I'm a sensitive bitch who visibly tremble and scream while reading fluff) but yeah, I must hurry up a little, so next thing we have is a couple of screenshots I took cuz why not? Some of them might even be out of context but I like it.

So I was going to post them in different posts and tag them here and Tumblr just said NO ") so yeah ig.

Hope you guys enjoyed this review (which is me basically simping as always) I'm like 100 pages into tsats now, hopefully I'll come back to talk about it soon.

Have a nice day/night♡!!

#magnus chase and the gods of asgard #magnus chase #alex fierro #samirah al abbas #hearthstone #blitzen #mallory keen #thomas jefferson jr #halfborn gunderson #annabeth chase #loki #loki mcga #fierrochase #mcga #rrverse #riordanverse #rick riordan #book review #series review

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blank-house · 1 year ago

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usually i just lurk in fandoms and read the answers to other people's asks, but i litr can't hold back anymore. THE STAT RAISING SYSTEM HELLOOO???? i was already obsessed and now this too? how exactly does it work, like if i’m spring but then choose a lot of composed options, do i become winter at some point, or do i do a mix of spring and winter behaviours + will there be any sort of indicator in the game of which stats you’ve raised like a pop up/menu where you can see your 4c/li stats? tysm!!

AH YAYYY SOMEONE'S EXCITED FOR THE STAT RAISING WOO! I'm so glad you asked because I had spent the better half of December last year thinking about it. And now I can finally ramble about this lol

But yes stats! There would be an indicator made so you can easily track the 4C's and the LI affections. As for how the the attribute points work, you won't get to change your season once it's been assigned (it would be, realistically speaking, weird if we make your behavior and speech switch after establishing that this is how you would normally act) but we do make it a point to clock whatever attribute is your highest stat.

So when you start a new game, besides establishing how an MC would act, we also assign you a set of starter points based on your season. For example, if you get Fall then you have a high amount of Compassion, medium amount of Charm and Composure, and a low amount of Confidence. Other seasons would get a similarly mixed bag of these attributes.

As you progress through the game and acquire points from your choices, the balance could start to shift in what is then considered to be your highest attribute, but since you don't get to change seasons again you would just be a more Charming Fall or a Confident Fall instead and the cast will recognize this change in MC.

So if you happened to be a Summer MC that suddenly grew more composed and less confident, you might have a cast member pull you aside to ask you if something's wrong. In a similar vein, if you're a Fall MC that shot up in confidence, they would muse over your new spunk.

Let me actually grab a bit of text from the end of the extended spring demo as an example. (Scroll past the blue text if you'd rather not be spoiled of any content even if it's a blurb).

If confidence is the highest stat: If Spring: mc “Oh, sweet, sweet, Cam. Frequency doesn’t dictate camaraderie. If they show up, then they show up. No need to invite them.” Deja chuckled from above you. de “Flashing your fangs, [name]? Where’s the usual sugar?” From where you laid, you grinned, bearing your proverbial weapons. Being straightforward wasn't usually in your books but you learned to take a page from your roommate. mc “I'm simply saying, the world’s not over if they're a no show, no?” If Summer: mc “Eh, who cares?” Cameron pouted, now completely tugging at their hoodie's drawstrings. ca “I know you like to speak your mind, but damn— harsh.” mc “I mean they’re good people but you don’t gotta twist yourself into a knot just because they’re not here.” mc “Who needs them, right!” de “No holds barred as always.” You shrug yourself, lips pulling back into your trademark grin. If Fall: mc “I mean… just because we’ve been in each other’s company doesn’t mean we’d all be friends.” Silence. Cameron and Deja offered you varying degrees of astonishment. You pursed your lips from their reaction, knowing full well what must be running through their head. And oddly enough, you didn’t feel guilty about it. Slowly, a smirk curled on Deja’s lips. de “Someone missed their daily dose of compassion this morning.” You scrunch your nose, fingers brushing against one of her braids as you swat it from your vision. mc "I'm okay if they're not here but if you want them to be, Cam, of course you're welcome to send them a text.” If Winter: mc “We don’t always have to invite them everywhere, you know.” ca “I mean, yeahhh, sure. But like, they’ve grown on me. Didn’t they on you?” mc “Ehh.” Your lackluster reply had Deja snickering. de “You never cared to say no before. Did one of them hit a nerve?” You rolled your eyes. mc “No. I’m just saying—” de “And that’s the thing, you. Saying something. Did you finally discover you have a voice?” You leveled her an unamused look but she only laughed harder.

It's the same scenario regardless, but because some of the seasons are less inclined to say something out loud, it's more realistic if your friends realize this change and react based on that.

That being said, we won't check for these changes often, since it's more obvious that you've changed after enough time has passed.

And other than these narration differences, attributes also have a hand at how a choice might unfold-- kind of like a DND check, if you have enough composure then you can successfully lie about this thing and if not you'd get caught. Or if you have enough compassion then the cast might feel inclined to let you in on a secret earlier etc, etc.

The attributes play an important role in the game, but like I said in a previous ask regarding the seasons-- please don't get hung up on attributes! They're more for story purposes and they won't have advantages or disadvantages when it comes to the romantic routes. I just think they'll add a wonderful layer to the immersion. ^^

~*~*~*~

Let me know if this is still confusing and I'll do my best to clarify again otherwise thank you for the ask!

#keyframes asks #keyframes vn #kf game mechanic #kf mc

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court-jobi · 2 years ago

Text

Trustfall

(gif from Pinterest)

Pairing: Din Djarin x biker!Reader

Words: 8,865

Rating: Teen & Up, (mature themes, but not graphic)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, chase scene action, catcalling, skeevey sleemos, brief descrip of injuries/roadburn, consensual touching, injury care, FEELINGS, fluff to intimacy, first kiss #thehelmetcomesoff ((fem reader, mild descriptions of features, hair etc.))

Summary: Most jobs' occupational hazards may include some warnings for heavy machinery: not 3rd degree roadburn and blaster shots to the face. Just your luck, that's what happens in your line of work.... While your partner-in-not-quite-crime Din Djarin has quite a bit of on-the-job experience with patching himself up after his skirmishes, tending to yourself after a shitshow like this is new territory. Some things are just too tender to see from behind the helmet-- and need the naked eye.

Sounds like he really needs to trust you if he's going to give you help with this one...

"I'm not going without you- -and you're not going alone" -P!nk, 2023

AN: thank you from the bottom of my heart, internet strangers, for the love for my little stories... this is a long one! here's to the countdown to season 3 finale, and a dose of feminine rage, badassery, and fluff to soften the landing~

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Anywhere in the galaxy you turn, there's a place you can navigate like the back of your hand: simply find where the drinks are flowing. Every watering hole may have its tricky language and even trickier problems, but the money's always good, and no questions are asked of you.

At a cantina, you rely on this. Here, you know you can easily fall back to old habits in an instant. Safety first, of course.

The rundown: where's the doors, where's the bouncers, where’s the barkeep and where's the biggest guy in the room. You've trained yourself to look for gaps, low traffic areas where you could make a quick dash out if things are looking sideways. Do all those things as fast as you can, too, because everything can change in a second. Tables can flip over like a credit chip– tempers, all the more quick to the draw. Oh, and don't be suspicious. Give a little smile if you can chance it– unassuming glances always make folks feel better.

But it's a bit different now. You don't bother to look up when you cross the threshold of a new place. You don't dissect all these fine details. After all, you've got a green baby that's twisting in his sling across your hips that has your attention split, and he comes first.

That's a full time job on its own… and whenever he comes along for the day, you don't forget the best part of the arrangement you find yourself in.

You've got a bounty hunter in stride. Worry is the furthest thing from your mind. He’s got you.

Upon first entry, the Mandalorian you've been hyperspace hopping with comes in like he'd likely done hundreds of times before. He's no stranger to reading a room, either. Though this time, with you and the little one tucked away in your crossbody, the company he keeps is completely different. This dynamic is far from your norm, but there’s so many things you love about it– and as it turns out, the feeling is mutual. He tells you so, that you don’t have to worry when he’s with you.

You buckled in the kiddo yourself– a break for Mando's still-tender shoulder. The scuffle you'd just come from not twelve hours ago was still fresh in both your minds– not that your sabacc face showed it. He appreciated your offering to keep tabs and hold him today. Still gotta fix his pod after the 'swimming incident' last week… after this payday, maybe you two could swing it after your winnings arrive.

Heading towards his unofficial corner of this planet's best underground lounge, Mando picked up through his peripherals the bits of chatter– no… -hunger- coming from some of the smaller pods of wranglers. Their attention wasn't due to the shinier beskar plates he wore. No, it was all aimed at his newfound companion.

They're all looking at you… not that you notice.

One in particular caught Mando’s honed attention as you neared, passing him to the bartop while he waited. The man wasn't the biggest in size, but Mando knew this type; that smarmy smile told him he’s thinking himself roguishly handsome, but made of complete slime and bantha-shit.

“Bike’s out back~” you paused by the bar to pick up the drink you’d nodded for, and made a convincing-looking fake sip while sticking close to his side. “-unregistered. Pokka dropped it off this morning for a nearby delivery run. It’s not the prettiest thing, but it’ll do in a pinch for a two-seater.”

Just after that line left your lips, something in the schmuck’s eye and his low murmur to his buddy. A near growl about the ‘not the only thing I'd pinch– pretty thing, coming right up’ made your partner turn with micro-precision in the direction of the smugglers–

–and catch your hand with a fierceness. Right in front of their table.

You're surprised by the sudden gesture.

When he did let go around the back of the row of booths, the Mandalorian more or less guided you by the small of your back instead. If anyone were invested enough past their drink's contents to be watching, they’d find you in a half embrace. This move allowed Mando the space to tuck you into his side with a corralling arm. You'd honestly not registered what he’d witnessed until he fell back to your pace with a gentle ‘this way’. A pod of spacers were gawking– at the shiny guy loaded to the gils with blasters, you thought.

Now closer, you had less room, but still managed enough to swing the munchkin to your front. The ‘bag’ made a little noise- an indignant question at your description of the ride you’d secured.

“Sorry, excuuuse me- three seater! Two and a half more like, with your size...”

Situating yourself with some disappointed looks your way, you took the near end of the bench Mando directed you to. Didn’t take much to know not to keep eye contact too long with any of these unsavory characters around you, so you kept to yourself. Once Mando slid in from the opposite side, you asked him,

"Quite the crowd huh?--oof–"-

Rather than allow the space for the little guy in between you, Mando slid in right beside you: an arm behind you and a small thud of his heavy fist on the table. The tracer clacked as it landed in front of him.

Someone's got him acting testy. You eyed your hunter as he brooded; a small twinkle flitted behind your eyes,

“See someone you know?" you asked.

"No." the Mandalorian spat out, curtly.

"Then what's wrong?"

His helmet turned to you, then ahead again.

"I didn't like how they were looking at you."

You bristled, really checking the room for the first time, managing the kid in your lap with a little glance. From the moment you took stock of the table nearest you, their quick darts in your direction told you just how rusty you were. They’re all locked onto you.

The whole point of your taking the kiddo for Mando was to seem less out of place, not a target.

“You don’t– think folks all the way out here are gonna go after him?” Nervousness flared in your voice, though for the sake of appearances, you didn't dare let it show on your face, “Who even reads the Imp notices anymore? This whole town’s a glorified farming dustball-”

Mando corrected you, “Not him.”

He murmured that into your shoulder like it was obvious.

A stunted breath tripped up your budding confusion.

"Well, if it's not the sight of a baby in a bar making them creep, what then?”

“You.”

Not for the first time, you checked the look of yourself. It’s what you faced from the reflection of the beskar cheek looking back at you when you addressed him– never his face, but yours. Then, to the room. Sure, you weren’t so rough-and-tough looking from the outside, but–

"..Hold on." Flatly, you turned towards him; a quarter turn from your cozy spot. "You're saying I'm the distraction here."

All you got in response was a little quirk of the helmet.

You bristled, “I’m not the only-”

“I know you’re not,” he hushed you again, still scanning his sights across the venue like a sentry camera, “but these bantha-breaths are all the same when it comes to- distractions.”

Your eyes fluttered in a muted roll. “And you think that’s new?”

“New to me.”

“Cmon. All this? You’ve gotten plenty of looks before.”

“Not the way they were watching you. The kid had nothing to do with it.”

You never take having such protective company for granted, but Mando's insinuation that you're bringing unwanted attention was surprising– and irritating.

“Please. You flatter me, I hardly think I’m the biggest draw in the room, hon.” you settled in. Harmless, but indignant, “You want me to really up the appeal? Then we should have planned ahead, and set up a rotation for me in the dance schedule.”

His gloves crackled at the creases– their grip unmistakable, “That’s an invitation for trouble.”

“No, messing with you is an invitation for trouble. I’m not trouble.”

“May not mean to, but you might cause us some.”

In truth, this observation wasn't unfounded; of the scarred, sweaty hunters and mechanics that filled this bar, you'd likely look out of place somewhere half this packed… and there’s no mistaking with the way you’re dressed that you are no fair-eyed performer like the real beauties in here. Sure your face under the visor shield might tell a different story when you appear more intimidating on the road, but here on this world, you passed over the need for even a

This was your job, and not your first time in this line of work. You wore the kit, you didn't strut or flaunt your stuff around, and you certainly never drank on the job either. Just looked and played the part you needed to. If he didn’t want you to come meet the contact, then why ask you to join him? The whole point of this plan was to be seen very publicly as a united front, so you wouldn't be suspected of funny business; even if that was going to be your specialty after you start phase two: divide and conquer, as you always do.

Plans change, sure– but only when things turn sideways… not when he’s got some alpha male jealous streak going on behind that bucket of his. That hand grab earlier proved it.

Mando just took centering deep breaths while you ran out of accommodating alternatives.

“Well, then, what do you want me to do?” the short candor that came out of your mouth wasn’t in your nature– but this was getting annoying, how short he’s acting. He’s not normally this snippy with you… “What, ‘wait by the tram’ till you come out, so I don't tinge that reputation of yours?”

The helm regarded you, then shook off– like he was redacting on the spot.

“I- didn't mean-”

And the backpedaling,

“-Fine.”

No use fighting for a place you shouldn't be in the first place, because it would only make his job more difficult. Feelings or not, you weren’t out to throw a wrench in the operation just for the sake of your involvement.

And even if your reason hadn’t won out, you sure weren't up for a soapbox moment either– despite its occupancy in your chest.

You unstrapped the kid from yourself and placed him in your spot,

“See ya in a bit, bud,” you laced a kindness into your voice- a sweetness just for him, “Maybe your dad will get his job done better without 'arm candy' throwing off his mojo."

Beelining it to the backdoor, you carried on steaming. You didn't bother looking back, which also meant you missed the Mandalorian’s lock on you the whole way across the rounded bar. Not that you had any doubts that he would be watching you; in fact, you counted on it. But you knew with even more certainty that he wouldn’t stop you. Not when there’s a job to do. You’re just going to set out on yours early.

Though you may not always see alike, there’s yet to be a final say that makes you not trust him so far. You’ll change the plan, call ‘plot twist’ and go right along with him.

Maybe one of these days he’ll begin to trust you at your word… do Mandalorians even do that with folks who aren’t their kind?

It's a job. A job you can do damn well. So, back to old habits it is. Keep the bike warm and ready for go-time.

In your retreat, you caught a comm from him. Just a blip and slight vibration that caught your attention on your wrist:

/be careful/

– and just like that, all the temper heating your neck and chest: shocked by a bucket of cold, graciously vigilant water.

Your Mandalorian couldn't resist.. and you really couldn't fault him for it.

You stopped at the door, slowing as the two words staring back at you made you come to a standstill. Checking back and finding that the man's brilliantly shiny helmet had indeed stayed tracked on you the whole time sent that pang in you alive and burning. A little breath huffed from your nose, but you didn't scowl at him.

It's just in his nature, he can't turn that off.

You looked back and nodded.

'I will'.

“Fancy seeing a livin' breathin' angel who knows her way around a rig~”

Outside, the smarmy man you'd missed noticing before made good on his interest in you and racked up his courage to act on it. He swaggered over to you by the open air skybike model you’d secured.

As aloof as he could seem, with that peacocking chest on full display…. He’d even set one of his holsters off to the side, a clear invitation for you to notice another package. Ugh.

“Vision a’ beauty in a dark, little corner like this, too…" he layered on the sugar,"Must be my lucky day, I tell ya!”

You weren’t having this pathetic attempt.

“Does this actually work on women…” You leveled your face.

Felt good, giving him a stare down before going back to your solid watch of the back door.

“C’mon now, pretty thing,” more swaggered steps towards you had your insides cringing– and had you moving ‘round the speeder to the mount side, “Couldn’t keep my eyes off’a ya in there– yer a stunner!”

And you don’t take a hint. “Not interested– I’m working.” Kept talking, too, like your words had just been a sneeze.

“Thought you was that bounty hunter’s girl, but ah-” he comically searched the perimeter of the garage, “--don't see ‘im nowhere.”

You scrolled through your wristcom, “If you did, I’d be sweating if I were you.”

“Got the hots for him, do ya? ‘R are you just friendly is all?”

It took every ounce within you not to react. Don’t give him fodder, just watch the door and keep a level head. Like he does.

You cursed yourself. Mando really did have the eyes of a hawk-bat inside. Meanwhile, you were getting rusty– or just far too comfortable.

Still, this moron was clearly set on poking the still-tender temper inside of you.

“Thinkin,” he made every move to sidle up to you, “I don’t have yer name, sweet’art- whaddthey call ya?”

“Look– I’m not here for my health. Buzz off.” You won’t be getting it.

And another step, to come lean on the front dash- “Right then– I get to guess. Sweetie, it is~”

Some sanity passed through your head, and you figured… the more you talk to this joker, the more he’ll try his luck. A hand on the palmbar, you revved the bike to full power; making your ‘Leech’ jump back, immediately floundering–

“Hey, hey, hey!!” and his sights roved over you, and in an instant, you equally revved his engines, “Ah, bit of fire in ya, huh? Like that in a bitch… Sure you know how to ride this beauty? or I can show you the ropes~”

You finally let your disgust show.

-and thank the Maker for the comm beep to save you. Your partner’s speech-to-text came through on your wrist tab,

//Making an exit//

//Which bay did you clear//

All too grateful, you typed back the number plastered on the overhead air systems installed above you.

It took a bite of your tongue to keep from writing back a fuller response:

/Listen to the sound of this skug-bag’s jaw hitting the floor- that’s where I’ll be/

but instead you mounted after a quick couple letter keys.

“Well, it’s been a not-so-lovely chat here,” you upturned your own helmet with a flourish, “But after the loss of these braincells I can never get back, I gotta run and make my pickup now.”

The man made a last attempt to lean in over your from the front handlebars,

“Nah, c’mon, gorgeous, I’ll make it worth your time real good. What’s the hurry? Sure there’s no harm in a bit a’ hooky?”

You laughed high in the back of your throat, giving gushy-sweetness back, with a side of ice–

“Not on your life, sleemo. Door to Hell is open, I hear.”

Then with the pop of your helmet on, you floored a fast reverse and drove off to leave him in the dust.

It almost occurred to you when you paused again to see what became of him, but you were shocked that he was in fact coming after you– with a gang of about four other men. Not that you could make out clearly what they were joshing about in the metallic hangar, but the slang they used about what features were hidden by your clothes was obvious…

The door you parked by remained silent when you rolled up; meaning you’d probably met Mando too soon. He likely wasn’t ‘a few moments away’ after all. And the gang who’s laughing so boisterous was nearing the exit ramp that would take them straight to you.

You tapped the wrist comm again, speaking directly.

“Got company out here too, Mando,” you firmed up, “Bit of nasty company if that makes a difference!”

In a blink’s time, the audio came back, blaster fire sparkling through the speaker,

“Same shits from the bar?”

You chortled, then answered clearly,

“Yup. Bold guys, up close.”

“I’ve got their buddies inside too.”

“Well kriffin’– do you need backup in there then?” Your slow reverse and frantic scooting along the floor looking for someplace inconspicuous -and quick- to hide your ride flew through your mind as you came up with plan ‘B’. “I’ll stash this, and lay lower inside.”

“No time– Take a lap– don’t stay where you are–” the Mandalorian blurted out.

You heard the rev of the gang’s engines as they idled around the exit ramp, “Or could you just put a rush on it? I’m already right here–”

“I’ll find you,” he stressed. “DO NOT engage them–”

But before you could snap back with–

“Guess you’re in need of a new boyfriend after all, Sweetie Pie!”

The crass voices appeared from above. While you’d slowed and chatted, they’d hopped the roof and made to bear down on you. The newcomers to the group, a couple Trandoshans and another Kel Door with a new retrofitted mask roved over you like you were a batch of Quarren hot-pot.

Oh, that blaster at your side was tempting… but you revved into top gear, and changed the route again.

Keep away it is. Just ‘till the boys show up.

In the end, you lose your seedy admirers after your third pass around. Touch and go driving proved in your favor, messing with their sloppy sense of acceleration with each lap around the back parking area. That was perhaps your saving grace– letting their inebriated states affect their pursuit instead of performing on the offensive– but it was short lived.

Your first chatty Leech gets a corner up on you and forces your trek on the inner wall, where the backdoors line the complex. At this stretch of buildings, there weren’t any more service ladders like where Mando was going to meet you.

Coincidentally, there were garbage units separating where that former landing zone was to where you are now. So when you skidded to a perfect stop, Leech rammed into the back and managed to jam his front end into the back of your second-seat attachment. Lovely. A flare of alarm chilled your back– feeling him far too close for comfort.

The blaster you carry is holsted between you- he’d see if you turned to grab it. You’ll have to slip down for your vibroblade if he tries to grab you.

And of course now is when he comes out of the far backdoor–

The Mandalorian burst from the firefight in the back door and -0ki whipped around the railing looking for you. The munchkin spots you first, and with your visor’s magnification, you see his smile- and subsequent squeal- which drags the Mandalorian’s attention to you.

From clear across the divide, his blaster raised and you leveled down with your handlebars: like he showed you.

“Hey now, friend! I was just returnin’ yer lovely thing to you!” the man’s voice flipped up several octaves in defense.

The maglock between your bikes activated, and he dragged you in reverse ever so slowly,

“Been runnin’ me and my crew like wild around the place. Been a fun chase- yeh must have yer hands full of this girl-”

Mando shot the man’s acceleration chamber till it hissed– stopping him in his tracks.

“You stay.”

You bashed the man’s face with a harsh elbow while his sights are down.

“YOU CRA-”, he recoiled with a bear swipe while you dismounted to try and fling him off– “--AH!”

But another shot grazed the man’s foot, making him slump onto his speeder.

He’s buying you time.

Running through your mental catalog, you risked the man’s pain-induced split focus to detach your bikes from his panel’s shortcuts– but didn’t miss the Mandalorian’s next shout,

“Touch her and you lose your head next.”

You smirked under your visor. He’s gonna take him out anyway, you just know it. Swinging your ride back around to where you can remount never felt so good.

Now, you really did try to avoid close calls like this as much as you can manage. But if nothing else, this run-in proved you could always learn a bit more, should spare reading up on grav separation, and maybe outrig yours a bit better when you get the chance…

A spared nod to the Mandalorian while you backed up– and his nod back– gave you the confirmation from the high ground that you needed.

From your angle down low, your helm didn’t have the scope for it. But Mando’s does; you’re cleared to run the gap.

Against the exasperated Leech’s expectations, you jumped it. Sure enough, when you landed, no more jeers followed. Only yells of surprise from the guy’s crew, who were screaming around his form laid flat on the ground, some to call for a extinguisher droid for the speeder fire, another calling out for a medic…

Under the railing where Mando stands, blaster shots chink off his backplate again, signaling him to get out of there. A perfect land later, Mando mounted behind you and wedged his foundling between the both of you.

“I take it you got it?” you asked, your modulated voice still perking up the Child’s ears.

He answered with arm wrapped tight your waist, “Got it. Drive.”

With the Mandalorian and the kid’s padded sling strapped tight to him, the three of you dipped off the ledge of the garage, leaving the bad vibes- and big paycheck -secured.

–However, there's a gap in the antigrav you don’t account for. Turning sharp back to the main road, you slip off a level, and wipe out. Happens so fast, you don’t even breathe– just feel a punch to the gut where the front end of the bike lurches back against you when you curl forward around it as it spins against the momentum.

The acceleration drones when it falls off kilter, the compressors go creepily silent, the metal plates grind against your eardrums, scrapes and crashes, and so do you.

The Child’s fine; if just a little dizzy when Mando curls away from his landed position behind you. Made of straight beskar steel everywhere it counts, he’s perfectly fine too.

You? Not so lucky… You can count on one hand the amount of times over the age of fifteen where you’ve had a messy landing– and this makes the top ten.

Crashing feking hurts. But you can still feel your legs; that’s good.

You rolled onto your back at Mando’s yell for you. He’s calling for you by name– louder and longer each time it leaves his vocoder– before you can reorganize your rattled brains enough to make any noise. A test of tilting your head proved you had range of motion. An adrenaline-high hand simply gave a thumbs up to him, even though your cheek burned.

White hot sting radiated across your face even when you chucked your helmet off with gasps of breath, as fiery steam and dribbles of blood were dangerously seeping close to your eyeline. From your good eye squinting to the side, you caught the remnants of your smoking, stolen ride spun out amongst some employee’s stash of speeders. So much for returning that poor two-and-a-half speeder back in one piece…

The Mandalorian led you out of the hangar with a steady hand on your back- for support, this time.

Even through the leather, you felt the pressure he gave as a buffer between you and any lingering watchers. Out in the bustle of a crowd should have provided a comforting white noise to be moving along in, fading into their routine existence through the foot traffic. But not this time; not with your ear still ringing and ears popping every time you swallow. Instead you were still shaking off the chills that creep sent when he was starting to block you in.

That hand on your back slid onto your waist, tucking you closer to him as you walked and merged with the crowd. Then, while your attentions moved to the booths, he slowed a bit and moved up to your arm.

"Are you alright?"

You lifted up, that soft tone a sharp contrast to what you’d just witnessed: as he made his threats and his kills like the hunter he was. It hadn't bothered you, in fact the protective nature of him made you feel slightly good.

You smiled and fell into his side. You didn't realized how tightly you'd crossed your arms over your fractured helmet. His touch alone- brief as it was- encouraged you to release the tension.

"Yeah... Thanks for that." You sunk a bit. With every breath, the adrenaline ebbed more and more from you, and your cheek stung.

You both could bicker about how you had it covered another time. When there was some distance between this incident, maybe, but thanks was due here. There was no game of ‘I told you so’ between you; it was unspoken- but the care won out over any personal beef.

Your ego is plenty bruised over having a wipeout in front of him. And yet, even as he'd brought you to your helmet, the first comment he made wasn't about how reckless you'd rounded that corner, or how you got yourself into a chase scene picking a petty fight…

Mando was by your side the instant your hand fell limp after your cheery hand signal, and said something about how this helmet saved your life. In the moment, you were just sad its visor shattered.

"Spent a lot of credits on the tint job…" you groaned.

"You're bleeding. From the head."

"Fine, fine," you waved him off, "I'll spring for substance and not style next time."

"Thank Ashla her humor's intact," Mando bemoaned to the Child. "C'mon, let's get you up and out of here."

"Ow, shit– that's gonna bruise… all down here, too.."

"I've got you."

He looked ahead and motioned with a little nod to the corner of the side street. Once under a pavilion cover he loosened his hold on completely in favor of facing you.

"I'm.. I'm sorry that happened."

"Yeah," you sighed back, "Wasn't the finest show of my skills. Even stellar have bad days too, see?"

"N-. Not that," he shook his head a little, "When I found you, out back."

You stood confused. "What, that a creep wanted to get in my pants? It's not the first time, and probably not the last."

What started as a quip in your voice turned more genuine as you admitted the truth,

"You uh… had that part right at the bar. How they're all the same, y'know."

He bristled, the turn of his helmet evident.

"That's happened to you before?"

You shrugged it off, a little surprised that he hadn't been privvy to that kind of scene.

"Just read the stats. It happens more often than folks care to admit, honey,” that sick feeling returned, the one that made even your toes lurch.The sourness of your memories made your broken helmet decidedly more interesting to look at, “Dregs say whatever they want in these parts, really anywhere from Mid-Rim out. Don't like being told 'no' for the most part either… It just depends on how far they'll go to try and ‘convince you’."

He really must be all business in establishments like that to never see those locales from another's perspective… But you grin back up at him while he stared speechless.

"...I haven't ever had someone come to my rescue before.." you admitted. "That was– welcome. Appreciated."

As expressionless as the helmet made him, the slight tip of the head spoke wonders for you. Mando's hand rose to catch your top wrist and rubbed his thumb against it– solidifying those feelings he didn't dare speak in public. Without any facial features to go on, you relied on these touches and read into every little thing: chipping up your chin is an encouragement, a pat on the shoulder is a quick ‘atta girl’ or ‘stay put’ depending on the situation. And this little hold on your wrist spoke equal wonders, a hidden language of care:

I’d do it again in a heartbeat, cyar’ika. Simply say the word, and it’s done.

Your pause was a quick one, and with no more words shared, he simply took claim of your hand, adjusted your fingers to work together, and led you back to the shipyard.

The Child would peek his head out now that the action was over. He’d crane and lean up at you both as much as his sling could afford him– though he was most interested in what sight was in front of him: your hands now fitting together like they belonged.

His buir was currently holding your hand, like he’s reached out to hold his own three fingered claw when they first met. He hoped this meant you'd stay, too. With his green-skinned hand, he could almost reach yours and add it to the pile.

......................................................................................................

The Mandalorian was quiet that night. The quiet itself was not unusual, no not that– setting a course and spending his time in the cockpit making the adjustments he wanted was a completely normal task for him. He always knew where to go, which route to plug into the navicomputer to coast comfortably in this hyperspace lane for the next few hours so he didn’t have to stay up there and babysit it. You left him to it; this brand of silence was nothing really out of the ordinary for him.

You thanked his strictly-taught discipline tonight. While he stayed busy, you were able to clean yourself up without an audience.

After an indulgent sonic shower by his insistence, you fiddled around in the small kitchenette. The domesticity, the residential feel you’d fostered on the ship piece by piece was a sharp contrast to how the bar made you feel. The security of this place; you fall back into the feeling of ‘home’ here everytime you come up the ramp. So far tonight, that’s meant heating up a few bean rolls, monitoring the data cells you’d comped from your intel, and watching the kiddo roll around that little knob he was always sneaking off with. The minute after you’d realize the twist top of the gearshift throttle in the cockpit was missing, you’d smile. What thievery, at such a young age… at least your pilot didn’t have need of it yet.

You shook your head and laughed when the Mandalorian sighed behind you– clearly finding it, too.

"What am I gonna do with you, pal..." He wrestled with himself more than anything- begging the odd baby for reason, and picked him off the floor.

After setting him on the crate, the Mandalorian came up to the side of the sink. You didn't move much from what you were doing, but looked up when he just stood there quietly for too long.

"--What's up?"

“Really need to clean that.”

At the nod, you knew what he meant– the split brow and cheekbone.

Your instincts flared- hedge away.

You fanned your face, “I was just getting him settled first. It’s clean, I was just letting it cool down a minute.”

Your name left his lips. Firm as steady morning rain, and in a similar hush. You didn't need to see what color they were to know they were set on you and only you.

“Look, it’s only this much, see?--AH! Oof, nevermind..”

At your cheek’s lift, the fire came back. The move brought a tear to sting your eye.

In a second, the Mandalorian came to your aid, a bracing hand on your waist as his hand cupped your chin to see the damage himself. He asked you to take another step towards the light, so you did. It seemed like he was tilting about a bit, even as he tested the touch around the roadburn. You winced at it each time- from both the poking and the bulb of the overhead glaring into your eyes.

“It’s pretty bad, huh.” you mumbled out.

Guilt came through the sigh as a little exhale. You barely caught it, but it struck you in the stomach. The night, its quiet, and the privacy of hyperspace allowed you to bring your favorite secret to your lips–

“How bad is it –Din?”

“I can’t see it too well.” Mando -by his true name- told you, a skosh gentler. “My scanner doesn’t always allow me to see the debris from the clotting clearly. Hard to tell,” he weakly let go of your chin.

“Damn,” you sniffed and looked about for the tabletop lantern back by the kiddo, “Do I need to get the handheld?”

Then, with a little look back to the hull where he sat occupying himself sleepily by the towel pile, your Mandalorian took maybe his largest risk ever:

“-I need you to close your eyes for me.”

“Huh?”

“I need to see it better. Need– you to close your eyes for me to do that.”

Realization punched you again. Made your ears prick– and gooseflesh chill you.

You can't let him do this... You know he would.

“We can get a medscanner, Din. It's not too late to stop somew-.”

“No,” he caught you again, “I can do it; need to do it. I just– I need to trust that you’re hearing me.”

It's less of an order and more of a curated ask, one that begged for assurance. This man would always do his best to help you– but you never imagined he'd go this far… what he's willing to do for you.

It's the most vulnerable request he'd ever made of you; a Mandalorian's trustfall.

Now? You took back every doubt you had in the bar about him. You looked him straight in the visor –while you still could.

“...I hear you, hon.”

It nodded back to you; just one, solemn motion.

“Okay. Come sit here.”

You obeyed and locked onto the sight of the child while the Mandalorian fell to a knee in front of you, then propped himself up on both to match. With prepped gauze and tools to extract the pebbley shards, you winced at the canister of bacta being shaken up in his palm. A gloved palm came to caress your thigh. It’s meant to soothe.

“It’s ok. Gonna get you taken care of.”

“Yeah,” you feigned a brave face.

But every nerve ending fluttered at its tips when you felt it: his now bare hand brushing your good cheek,

“Do not open them, please.” you heard him whisper in the helmet.

The already low-lit vision of the cabin fell dark at your will. And you nodded– any reaction of his, unseen.

With the latch release and depressurization, you knew the helmet was off. And without meaning to, your ears prickled at every breath, every swallow, every ounce of sound that man was making – now naked to the hallway of this ship.

“Okay,” a gentle baritone spoke in the air between you. It’s new, like a stranger. “Hm– looks like we’re out of the stim solution, I don’t have any numbing cartridges. But I have the wipe kind. Gonna do that first.”

You hummed your agreement, then immediately whimpered at the first dab.

The Mandalorian froze and detached.

“It’s just a wipe…”

“Tell my face that.” You cringed. “Sorry, juss' stings.”

“I know,” he soothed, “T’sgonna be alright. I’ll make it as quick as I can. There. Gonna get these pieces out now.”

He did work pretty quickly now that he’s out from the helmet. You barely felt the edge of his tweezers as they scooped the wedges of asphalt from that high point of your cheek where the visor of your headgear had shattered. Before you could hedge away from one particularly deep poke, you heard him speak again,

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier,” Mando peeped up from his quiet, “About... men who've said those things to you before."

You softened. Was he still thinking about it? That was hours ago.

"And.. I know I've said things like that. I just wanted you to know, I can't stomach the thought of you feeling that way. And I apologize if I have ever done so, even if you'd never said a word about it. If you want me to stop, I will."

Kriff, this man. You’d sooner lay across an electrode-fencing rig than ever make him stop. You sighed, and not simply from relief as you heard him switch tools.

He’s a man of few words, but not meaningless ones. The first compliment he ever paid you was about your fire- your heart, your will, and how strong you were and how you believed. Later when you had to doll up for that ridiculous undercover function, he finally spoke his mind in the moment and said you looked ‘stunning’. He calls you 'pretty thing' often; mostly when he's giving you a hard time. Truthfully he'd called you all sorts of things, both in Basic and not– which likely gave him this pang of guilt all the more.

But those endearments were just that: things that gave you joy, a peace and comfort with him. A sweet word here or there? It's born out of familiarity- the ease of tongue that comes with living in close quarters. The draw between you two is perfectly synchronous– it is an unexpected bond through bizarre shared experiences in an infinite galaxy that inevitably brought two rough-and-ready folks together and practically conjoined at the hip. To

Your Mandalorian is not a man without faults, but he'd never once made you feel filthy.

"Oh stars above, you sweet man.." you chuckled a little, wrenching your palms from your shirt hem and blindly batted up in the air to find his arm. "You've never made me feel like that. It's different when it comes from you. You know that, right?"

He huffed out of his nose. Relieved, if his trigger fingers were any indication as they tilted your cheek again,

"I didn't want to assume. You're always so collected. Talented, confident.. But you're– painfully polite."

You giggled at that. All of his touches that root you to the spot when you least expect them are anything but unwanted. Of course you were polite when he jumps the gun on grabbing you while out in traffic, or whipping a hand in front of you at a hard stop– but you've never once taken offense to that.

With a tentative reach, his fingers brushed the line of fine little curls by your ear, relishing in your smile at the touch.

"I don't just want you in safe places. I can’t always promise our adventures will grant us ideal jobs," In the dark, you envisioned his solid, pitch black visor giving a barely there shake… "But I want you to feel safe when you're with me."

You turned your head and kissed the palm of it.

"I do feel safe with you. You'd be the first to know if I wasn’t–NNGH!"

"Be still."

"Shit… m'working on it… this whole thing's new to me, y'know?" Your mouth wandered like your frantic mind, blitzed with stinging pain. "My visor's never shattered like that before," You clenched your fists against the picks made at your browline, "I just fill in the scuffs with some epoxy usually, but it's never broken like that. Frikkin’ hurt."

Mando hummed in sympathy and merely added, "Gotta fit you with some beskar one of these days."

"Oh, sure, for half my year's portion of – nehNGH!"

“Shh, I know. Last bit’s over. Just gonna clean it up before the spray.”

With a water’s dip and wrench out, Mando made a little cleansing exhale before dabbing over the whole area. Didn’t hurt as much of your face other than the center of the wound because of the sedative, but it certainly made your eyes squeeze shut. No worries of opening your eyes for a peek when it stung so badly.

Your gentle angel in beskar whispered a quiet ‘m’sorry’ for the repeated flare of pain. His nervousness was palpable, regardless of how confident he was at this job. A jostle of your leg at calf-height told you he was checking around for dry gauze.

“Almost done,” he cooed, “You want a break?”

You hummed and gave your pitiful nod to agree. The barest turn of your head caused little pops in it from craning so much. The pressure would take a while to dissipate and you know that when you open your eyes, they’ll be bloodshot. But the pain would be over soon.

Pleased enough to give you a minute, Mando released your chin in favor of brushing another bit of hair back. Due to taking your own helmet on and off so much, the wisps of curls were bouncier than normal like this, with just enough length to give you some fun bangs. You smirked with a tight-lipped smile, as you did not want to bother and pull your cheeks too much.

It’s kinda beautiful, this. Having this closeness, sharing in a horrible task but in the best of conditions imaginable– being cared for by the one you adored most. Who wouldn’t crave that when it’s what the heart screams for?

And with this new secret shared between you, this loophole in Din Djarin’s creed… this isn’t a moment you took lightly at all.

With a little shaky exhale of your own, you searched for his hand again in your bubble of darkness. Now, it met you fully–and linked your fingers together.

And then, what shocked you the most: steady fingers supported your jaw again, and a slight breeze to cool down your enflamed cheek rushed across your face.

Din is here. Kneeling before you and blowing on it– just for your comfort.

You welcomed the cooling flow; your brows showed it. Every ounce of tension left you while dragging heartache into its warm spot. Emotion flooded every corner of the body. It nearly hurt: how it compressed your chest into submission and brought loving tears behind your eyelids.

You didn’t deserve him.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart. Finish line,” he squeezed your hand before lifting it to his lips. He spoke gently to the fingers, "Keep those eyes closed for me."

"Promise." You squeezed them again, bracing yourself for the final burn.

And there it was– freezing and sealing all at once. A white, blinding sensation like what you’d feel from a lightsource turning on overhead, but all over your skin. Each pore was touched by the bacta’s strange magic without warning- and perhaps it was better that way to get it over with. Your breathing raced in that short time until the spray set, but you made sure to mute any noise with angry focus. Fighting the aftertaste, only a small moan eeked from you while the medicine reacted after your nurse had done his job covering the area. Darling thing, he even shielded the mist from getting directly into your eyes.

Mando's hands left you only to set its things down. This, only in favor, of cupping your face evenly to hold you still when they returned. They warmed what once felt so cold. His forehead met yours in a tender touch as your tears spilled over from the edge of your eyes. Not to worry, for his thumb wiped them up straight away.

Hair caught in every which way brushed along your slightly damp brow- his. Matched yours, in a way.

"All done.” his words danced just over your nose, “You can smack me away now, if you want."

You gave a wet little laugh as you settled into him. Slapping him is unthinkable to you. “Never.”

No, this was a perfect feeling that you’d never wish an end to. His caresses surpassed that of strict medicinal care and turned intimate, rendering your insides limp and on their way to healing already..

The urge to finally cry hit when you parted… when you felt his lips meet your unharmed cheek in a plush, hot kiss.

You whispered in reverence: Din. Desperation for ‘more, please Starborn, more’, an equal measure of shock had you squeezing his wrist, pinning him to you,

"Should– heh- sh-should you be doing that?"

He kissed you again. Again. Like he’s addicted to the touch, like it’s his favorite vice to pass the time; soft, loose, sighing up to your temple. You know he must be taking in this sight of you now, before the analytics of heat sensors block him from vivid color and dynamic shadows once the helmet returns.

"Probably not,” he admitted without true remorse– his voice turned soft and delicious, "But I've always wanted to. And right now, I can–" he pulled away at your forehead, "--Should I stop?"

"Oh, please don't stop–"

Your urgency, his delight. Mando chuckled, and kissed your forehead next: with such love from him, you could never doubt it. Enjoy this, honey. Take it all in.

The moment could have lasted forever. You'd about blindfold yourself for the rest of your life, for all you cared. If he just kept kissing you; lower, lower, lower–

–your lips fit against his, and you burst like a case of firewhiskey spirits poured on a flame. It engulfed you both, and he latched on– to burn right there with you.

Your hands flew to keep him close, fingers finding a hold through the whisps of his hair he kept short that curled in choppy, sweat-licked parts. He sighed so heavenly when you touched him skin to skin. And easy to please, it seems, since he matched you move for move– threading through your feather-soft waves like it was second nature for him to hold you so close.

Oxygen and a too-full heart demanded you part for a breath, your pulse going rapid fire in your throat.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me? Thank– I should be thanking you,” For caring, for the space to exist at his side, to have his loyalty in your back pocket and in your very soul, “For… everything today.”

“Nothing special about that. You thanked me already.” he said so with such frankness. “We have each other’s backs. We’re on each other’s sides. No, this–”

His shield dropped from your browline, replaced by his whisper over the lid of your eye–

“–this means everything, mesh’la.”

The honesty of this man wrecked you.

You found yourself pressing your forehead into the space by his neck to hide. Your Mando petted through your hair like a lovestruck man- desperate and wanting and content with every intention to keep you there for the rest of Time. By how this killer matched your breathy giggles, you had a clue that he wouldn't mind that idea.

"So," you broke the quiet with a small question, "is that what I can expect every time I get a punch to the face?"

Din huffed.

"You start poking around for trouble, we're going to have an entirely different problem on our hands,” he mumbled back hoarsely, “Don't you dare get any ideas."

“Even if they get me kisses?”

“Nothing’s worth you getting hurt, cyar’ika,” those indulgent lips pressed to your hairline before he reached down- to get his helmet.

At the lean, you panicked a second, and flung back again with a rush for him to wait.

At your word, he stilled for you to speak your peace. Happy lines greeted your fingertips as you caught the edge of his smile with a blind-man’s reach.

You fought through your elated headspace and begged, "One more?"

Praying to every heaven out there, you were blessed when Din graced your mouth again without any teasing. Kiss after kiss, you melted into each other in this place where nothing hurt– though who did the falling first, you genuinely didn't know.

Must have been a hell of a numbing wipe.

After breathless kisses later, stolen tokens as they were, you both felt and heard the Mandalorian shudder and he moan back,

"Gotta stop.." he flipped up the helm with expert precision. It found its home again with only another blip of static when the seal reanimated. "You can open your eyes now."

"Stop…" you managed your beating heart and blinked open your gaze, straight up to the reflected 'T'-shaped gap of his visor. The pupils that looked back at you were straight dilated. You asked out of the haze of your bliss, "Why ‘stop’?"

Still ungloved and with sleeves rolled up, the Mandalorian’s head lolled in a little shake.

"If I didn't stop right then," Mando caressed your good cheek, "Don't know if I ever would…"

"Would that be the worst?" You hoped for the chance again.

Mando sweetly answered,

"No.."

It was the kind answer he knew you wanted, to wish for more kisses from you. But he wasn't completely convinced. Not with that lilt in his voice that left a question to be answered.

He slipped a hand around your waist,

"No, I think.. if I never saw your eyes again, that would be the loss I'd suffer the most.”

Lucidity came back by the moment, your sense of confusion officially returned.

“See me? But you just did, for the first time, right?”

“Couldn’t see those pretty eyes though.”

“Well, tough.” you sassed, “Now you know how I feel.”

You tried to make it sound bossy, but the dig left your mouth too sleepily for him to take it. Behind the metal, his rough rush of static resounded his chuckle.

To further prove the point, you mimic the motion you do for your eye contact removal with a bright, goofy smile,

"It's just retinas, you know,” you shrugged, “Mine don't even work."

"Your loss is my gain, all the same." Mando fell back to only one knee again, to get comfortable at your level. "I'm almost glad we didn’t pass a med droid in town, or else…” he curled an arm around you again, “--this might not have happened any other way. I count your poor excuse for headgear as my blessing this time."

You glanced at what was left of your helmet, but fell into good humor with his warmth bringing you close again.

“You’ll be all too glad to see me walking around a beskar cyclehelm, won’t you? Gonna take a while to find that much to make one, if you’re serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” the helmet nodded, chipping your chin for a moment, “But we’ll manage until we source it. Always do.”

You’re still reeling over this; over what this means, him offering you the most prized form of protection. To give you comfort by shedding down to his most vulnerable state. The complete faith he has in you by doing so... It gave your nervous anxieties ballasts on all sides.

You’d keep your wits about you better next go round, so this doesn’t happen again… but you knew the word ‘partnership’ had a different meaning between you, from this night onward.

Din continued past your mind’s lovely spiral,

“You won’t need to worry about finding a better replacement before we head to Bespin with this package; we'll just let you heal. No sense pushing it.”

"Probably for the best, yeah," you nuzzled back, "I clearly have issues keeping a helmet on my head as it is."

The helmet giving you a kiss of its own shook side to side. That gesture all but begged ‘what am I going to do with you’.

"So we stick in our lanes for now?” you whispered your hope, “...Try my luck and steal chances whenever I can?"

Instead of a quick nod, the man who’d just kissed you senseless gave you a promise again,

"We can work something out."

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #this is self indulgent #din djarin is a sweetheart and a badass and i'll take no questions #it's a trustfall baby #close your eyes and leave it all behind #go where love is on our side #mando #mando x reader

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ink-flavored · 1 month ago

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HI IM HERE ITS GO TIME FOR SPACE CRUISE WIP LEGGOOOO!!!!!

📅🤔✊😎👾😲

it's TIME!!!!

since this wip is such a baby i'm going to be thinking about a lot of these things for the first time let's do it

📅 How far in the future is your WIP set? Is it a “near” or “distant” future?

It is quite a distant future! It takes place 400-ish years from our present day—we aren't quite ancient history, but it's long enough ago that people don't really consider the 21st century in their daily lives. You learn about it in school and then promptly forget it all

🤔What kind of technology is still being developed in your WIP? What’s something they’re still trying to figure out?

The brain is a fickle little meat sack, and there is no "true" mental hook-up microchip or anything like that. The things you can do to the outside of your body are very impressive, and medical technology has improved a lot of technologies that are inside your body for medical purposes (like pacemakers and stuff), but you can't send/receive text messages with your mind. yet!

✊What is the social climate of your setting? Has society progressed towards equality or regressed? Has it stayed mostly the same?

Progressed in some ways, languished in others.

Since the entire concept of Space Colonialism relies on the idea that planets are big blank slates waiting for Civilization to extract resources and set up tourist traps or whatever, there is still a lot of class disparity and plenty of wealth disparity. Countries and companies can send a "pre-colony" of laborers to terraform a planet and then essentially evict them from the place(s) they built to sell the land to permanent residents. None of the money from that sale touches the pockets of the people who built it, of course, and Space Wage Theft is rampant among these operations.

And of course since colonialism inherently needs to "other" anyone or anything that was already living in the place it colonizes, that also happens quite a bit. Especially when humanity made first contact with aliens who were doing their own space colonialism.

Also Space Cops exist. There are space cops who do predictable cop things. Also robocops (they're not sapient or anything, it's basically a surveillance camera roomba that can call for back-up) are wandering around at most, if not all, space stations, and even some spaceships if you're very important or rich.

Depending on how I structure the rest of the history on the Humans Get To Space Timeline, I will probably be able to add quite a few more to this unfortunate list, but now the good stuff.

Gender is DEAD, being gay is ALIVE, and polyamory is THRIVING!!! Obviously, this varies from planet to planet and country to country, but in the story I'll be telling, it is the case that all of these things are fine and accepted.

Gender first: HRT is so advanced that it can get you all the results in under a year, depending on the dose/method of delivery, and you can get it at any pharmacy. People can transition for a couple years, detransition just as easily, and then switch back! Whatever!

Surgeries are much easier to perform and produce more consistent results across the board, and we ARE at the stage where things like uterus transplants are a thing—either from another person or from a lab-grown organ. They aren't as "versatile" as HRT, in that you can't get your junk swapped in a single day and swap it back the next, but it's easier to customize the results.

Socially, the ease with which transition can occur means that people are more relaxed about the fact that it happens. Especially because it's so easy, it's kind of impossible to ever predict if someone you're talking to is trans unless they tell you (like in real life too but you get it), so everyone is encouraged to just roll with whatever presentation and pronoun combination they're handed by someone. Space bureaucracy means it can be kind of annoying to change your legal name, but there's no such thing as a "legal sex" or "legal gender" anymore, you put your pronouns on your ID instead.

Sexuality next: when people can bang aliens, being gay doesn't seem like that big of a deal. Whether or not banging aliens is in the cards for any given person, experimenting with whoever is normalized. If it turns you gay, people just go "yeah, that'll happen," and move on. Not having any particular label is unremarkable too, because when aliens are in the picture, it's just a lot easier to have a "case by case" sexuality. Humans who exclusively (or almost exclusively) bang other humans do tend to stick with human labels for sexuality for communication's sake.

Polyamory: What with all the experimentation with gender and sexuality, it would be foolish for relationships not to get their own turn in the lab. There are a lot of ways relationships just... work differently, when it comes to existing across the vast distance of space. If you travel a lot, if you're constantly going between the planet and the space station, if you split your life between two different planets, having an open or polyamorous relationship—or to never settle down for a long-term relationship at all—just makes sense for a lot of people. Monogamy still exists, but it's not considered the default state for all relationships ever.

Even with faster-than-light travel, trips through space can take a LONG time, and people can form a lot of really close relationships on those trips. When they inevitably have to leave the ship and go their separate ways, some people stay connected. It's more or less accepted that basically everyone has a "spaceship-ship", either exclusive to that trip or lasting far beyond it. This is foreshadowing for later.

Also, marriage isn't limited to two people anymore. Some people even have a partner on Planet 1 and another on Planet 2, and they're only married on those planets.

And again, when I have better fleshed out this world, I'll have more for the good stuff too.

😎Are there any famous (or infamous) planets known for a particular cultural or material export? What is it? Are the planet’s residents annoyed or proud of this notoriety?

Our protagonist Kavi comes from a Famous Planet (that doesn't have a name, I'm working on it), and they are personally extremely annoyed when it's the first thing people bring up.

Kavi's planet is known as the Pleasure Planet, it's where you go if you want a vacation on a tropical beach, perfect weather year-round, and sex. A lot of sex, from all the not just "legal" sex work, but privatized sex work with franchised brothels. It is the place you go to pay someone to match your freak, and while the population is mostly human, aliens live, visit, and work there too.

The particular area where this tourist hotbed is located is in a single city-state on the other side of the continent where Kavi was born and raised, but nobody really knows, cares, or would want to visit those other places (the ocean geysers can be deadly there), so they are resigned to sighing heavily every time they bring up where they're from. People also tend to assume that people from the Pleasure Planet are just as ready to put out as someone who's getting paid for it, which they also hate.

Outside of Kavi, it's a mixed bag. The people from the Pleasure City can be very proud of their culture's sexual freedom of expression, annoyed at the constant influx of tourists all over the place, or actively hostile toward not just the tourism, but the concept of the city itself. It's a lot less rosy than depicted on the outside, and the sex workers who actually have to serve tourist clients have some... grievances.

👾How many different kinds of aliens are there in your WIP? Describe them!

There will be more than one kind!! But I only have one to describe right now!!

One of the aliens that will be a main focus in this WIP is... a species that doesn't have a name yet, but they're basically crocodile people with neck frills that change color based on their feelings. Their planet has a dense oxygen atmosphere and a slightly lighter gravity than Earth, so they can get up to nine feet (that's 274cm) at the tallest, but tend to hover around 7-8ft (213-243cm) tall on average. They're cold-blooded like IRL reptiles, and don't wear much in the way of clothes because they have to bask (in the sun or under a lamp) regularly to function. They're also obligate carnivores, with like 70-80% of their diets being meat.

They tend to be long and rectangular in body shape, with comparatively short limbs considering how tall they are. They have HUGE TAILS FOR WHACKING!!!! And for swimming, they spend half-and-half of their lives in land and water basically right down the middle. They have the long snouts with lots of teeth, but also they have the single weakness of not being able to open their jaws if literally anything is holding it closed. Their rougher armored scales are on the back and the soft ones are on their bellies, and they can vary in color and pattern based on where they're from. Mostly greens, browns, blacks, and sandy yellows and oranges. Sometimes a splash of red if they're feeling spicy. They live in both fresh and saltwater climates, though the freshwater aliens can't automatically filter salt like the saltwater aliens do (they have the salt-filtering gland, but it's not "active." It can be activated, but it's nasty because they have to drink saltwater).

Their frill colors are a semi-voluntary expression of emotion. Like how humans can force a smile when they're pissed, these croc aliens can force a happy color when they're pissed. However, it is harder to hide, since usually their "true colors" will show for a bit, or start to creep in along the sides. Because their frills are, in a lot of cases, reflective of their True And Real Emotions, trying to hide them on purpose is considered untrustworthy. If an alien keeps their frills closed all or most of the time, other aliens will look at them funny, or consider them closed off and unfriendly.

I'm taking inspiration from a lot of different animals for this bit, but these aliens are capable of randomly transing their gender at any time. The main alien in this story, Zyg, was hatched female along with all of his sisters. As he started to grow up, though, biology randomly assigned him transgender to balance the population of his family, and he transitioned to male over several years—completely out of his control. This happens all the time, throughout the species.

Now, the most important part: what are their sex organs like? I'm glad you asked.

Like most reptiles, all their sex organs are internal and contained in a cloaca. Males have hemi-penes which basically means they have two dicks that drop down from internal sheathes during sex time, and females have two clitorises up there (hemi-clitoris. that's what I call it). They also have scent glands that secrete body oils when they're mating/aroused, both in the cloaca and on the sides of their jaw (real crocs also have these). They lay 5-12 eggs in a clutch, including when the eggs aren't fertilized. It's common to eat unfertilized eggs, it's not considered cannibalism, but it is bad luck to eat your own unfertilized eggs—people trade clutches sometimes. Even when the eggs are fertilized, though, the embryos don't always survive. Those eggs are not eaten, and are treated sort of like a miscarriage. These aliens can also be intersex but I haven't 100% figured out all that stuff yet

The other types of aliens are gonna include at least one other mammal species, and maybe something fish-related? Still deciding.

😲Are there any human customs that the aliens find strange, offensive, gross, or confusing? Which ones?

When it comes to crocodile aliens, they are super weirded out by species that don't swim all the time. Some of them are convinced humans can't swim at all, and many of them consider humans less civilized for this.

Also, the fact that humans have to... choose? To trans themselves? Just move to a new city. What do you mean, you can't just do it on your own? Why are you doing injections? What do you mean surgery????

On a similar note, these croc aliens also have a mating season, and their libidos basically go dormant when it's over. The fact that humans don't have one can lead them in one of two directions: humans exclusively have sex to reproduce and barely enjoy it (how sad), or humans are SEX CRAZED, ALL THE TIME (HORRIFYING).

Those are the funniest ones I can think of. They're not really customs, but whatever

[try out my sci-fi worldbuilding ask game]

#annika talks #answered #ask game #Space Cruise WIP #long post #jesus this is long

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