#HEY BRAIN WOULD U LIKE TO COME BACK HERE WHAT DO U MEAN AGAIN i mean it’s v obvious but. that’s a thought. bc i said goon also i desperatel

[moonstruckme]

Hey queen what about a lil fic of reader with one of the boys (u can pick whoever!!) where it's her first healthy relationship and May be she thanks them for being nice and he's just like ummm I don't wanna be mean to u

Thanks for requesting lovely!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You have a habit of complaining into the void. It’s not the first text you send James griping about your day at work and it likely won’t be the last, but you’re surprised when the result is him turning up at your desk with flowers and a coffee. 

“James,” you say dumbly, looking up in absolute astoundment as he sets the flowers carefully by your keyboard and bends down for a kiss. 

“Hi, angel.” James presses the coffee into your hand. Spots the empty desk next to yours and, with a quick glance around, steals the chair, sitting beside you. “Are you still on your lunch break?” 

“I—yeah.” Your brain can’t quite make sense of him at your work. It’s like being a kid and seeing your teacher at the store. James, with his casual clothes and easy smile, doesn’t belong in this place. “I’ve got twenty minutes left. What are you doing here?” 

“You seemed like you were having a rough morning,” he says simply. “I thought I might see if I could come and make you feel a bit better—don’t worry, I brought supplies.” 

He shrugs out of one strap of his backpack, swinging it around onto his lap and pulling out a small vase. James seems too distracted to have noticed your stupefaction. 

“Do you have a sink around here?” 

You point him towards the break room and he hurries off, returning a minute later to arrange your flowers in the vase. 

“I know it might be silly,” he says, as he works with a care that belies his words, “but I was thinking that if I was stuck in one place all day, it might help me to have something nice to look at. I considered getting you a mirror, but I thought you may have grown used to that particular sight so I ought to mix it up.”

James glances up to catch your reaction to the last bit, dimples appearing when you fluster. As he sits back down, his gaze roams your workspace, largely empty as most of your coworkers have gone to lunch. He swivels the chair from side to side absentmindedly, his knees brushing yours with each pass. It feels like someone striking a match. 

“I didn’t know you had so few windows in here.” He blows out a breath. “We should hit a park or something after you’re off tonight, get you some time in the sun.” 

“That sounds nice,” you say, lifting the coffee in your hand to your lips reflexively. 

It’s not until you register the taste that you think to look at the logo on the cup. It’s from your favorite coffee shop, the one with only one location, which you almost never go to because it’s so far from where you work and live. 

“James,” you say, voice soft with wonder, “did you go all the way across town to get this?” 

“Yeah.” He smiles, tilting his head sideways to rest it on his palm. “That’s the one you like, right?” 

“Yeah, but…” You shake your head, grinning. “You’re crazy,” you say, when you mean to say You’re incredible. 

“Crazy for you.” He makes a disgusted face as he says it, laughing at himself. You can’t bring yourself to do the same. 

You remember a time, not so long ago, when you would have felt lucky if the person you were dating responded to your texts at all. James has responded in person, with kind words and gifts and a thoughtfulness that’s going to brighten not just the rest of your day but your week. You’ve no idea what to do with this much sweetness. 

You shake your head again. “Thank you. Seriously, I—this is too nice. You’re so—” You lean forward, running your forefinger over the stubble on his jaw as you peck him on the lips. His smile leaps up on his face. “You’re so sweet to me, Jamie. Thank you.” 

“I don’t mind, sweetheart, really.” James palms the back of your elbow, his touch trailing down to your wrist as you pull away. “I like doing things for you. You deserve it.” 

You smile at him, letting the sincerity in his voice warm your chest. “Nobody’s ever been this nice to me before,” you admit. 

James’ expression heavies slightly, a divot forming in between his brows. You feel embarrassed for having said it. You don’t mean to sound self-pitying, you only want James to understand how much you appreciate him, how unprecedented he is for you. 

He smooths his thumb over the hairs on your arm. “I want you to be happy,” he says, a carefulness to his words that’s so unlike his usual quick, energetic way of speaking. “Angel, I’ve got no reason to be anything but nice to you, because it makes me happy to see you happy. It’s like—” He glances away from your face for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek as he thinks. “Like I’m getting to see you the way you’re supposed to be, does that make sense?”

He looks to you for confirmation. You can only stare back at him in stunned silence, horrendously in love and falling deeper by the second. James must find whatever he’s looking for in your expression, though, because he gives your wrist a friendly squeeze and goes on. 

“You’re supposed to be happy. You’re supposed to be treated nicely, no matter who you’re with, but I’m happy to be the person who gets to treat you that way.” He lifts his eyebrows as though to be sure you’re listening, lips quirking slightly. “And you’re nicer than nice to me, so I don’t want to hear any of this crap about bringing you flowers and a coffee being too nice. Got it?” 

Your face is a furnace. You don’t know how to respond. 

James grins, looking ten percent smug and ninety percent smitten. “Say okay, sweetheart.” 

“Okay,” you echo, unable to help breaking into a smile of your own. “Thanks.” 

James groans. He grabs the seat of your chair, rolling you closer to him until your knees are on either side of his. “Enough with the thanks,” he chides, more laughter than irritation in his tone. “Those other people sound like assholes, lovely. We’ve gotta up your standards.” 

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part X

Word count: 10,825 Warnings: Language, violence, blood/injury, victim blaming, self-deprecation, fictional racism, discussion of past abuse, temporary death  Summary: After an unwise decision, Tango and Jimmy find themselves in Hels, at odds, and up against an old foe seeking revenge. But as everything comes to a boil, Tango realizes he must finally confront his past if he has any hope of saving his future.

A/N: Hey y’all, thanks so much for ur patience. Didn’t mean for this to take so long, I’ve been dealing w some health issues, but I’m doing way better now and on break from school so here we are. I hope u enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part X - no ‘who cares,’ no vacant stares, no time for me 

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player stares at his soulmate in shock.

Tango could’ve sworn Jimmy was asleep. He checked, he checked multiple times to make sure Jimmy was well and truly unconscious before slipping out of bed. And he’d been so careful about it, moving so slowly and quietly to ensure Jimmy wasn’t woken up. All he’d needed was for Jimmy to keep sleeping for not even five minutes- just long enough for Tango to sneak downstairs, grab the supplies he’d secretly prepared earlier, go through the portal, and break it from the other side.

Yet here they are.

The abrupt silence after their mutual outburst is blanching. There’s almost a static feeling to it, like electricity gathering in the air before a lightning strike. All of Tango’s previous thoughts have flown clean out of his brain. He can only stare at Jimmy, forehead stinging, mouth slightly parted as he struggles to make sense of what he’s seeing.

Jimmy looks similarly disoriented. He sits in a heap in front of the portal, bathed in the green-yellow-red light, his wings splayed out around him. His nose is scrunched up- still wincing from the pain of Tango’s forehead smacking into his chin, most likely. The recently-obtained scar across the newly-formed bump on the bridge of his nose stands out in sharp contrast against his other, more familiar, features. He said it didn’t bother him, but Tango feels a stab of guilt every time he looks at it. Even now, it’s a reminder of the pain Tango’s brought him. Of how Tango’s failed him.

Jimmy recovers first.

“What am I- what are you doin’ here?!” he cries, rising to his feet. 

Realization dawns on Tango as he finally grasps the reality of this impossible scenario he’s found himself in.

Jimmy’s here. In Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Oh. Oh no, oh that’s the opposite of what Tango wants. This is bad. This is really, really bad. This is a whole heap of bad with extra badness on top. Jimmy can’t be in Hels, he should never be in Hels.

“Tango,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward, “are you listenin’ to me?”

Tango jumps to his feet, heart pounding. He quickly scans their surroundings- still no players to be seen, though some of those magma cubes in the distance are getting close. He knows they’re on borrowed time; there’s at least two players in this world who are bound to notice his arrival in chat, and the clock’s ticking.

“Tango?” Jimmy says again, uncertainty leaking into his voice. “You alright?”

Adrenaline floods Tango’s body. He feels hyper aware, like all his senses are in overdrive- his skin is prickling with heat, and if it weren’t for the wither rose collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be swirling around in a defensive inferno.

He needs to get Jimmy out of here.

Despite their difference in height, Tango’s strong enough that he could probably push Jimmy back into the portal. He’d have the element of surprise, initially. But Jimmy’s build isn’t just for show- Tango would have a hard time keeping him in the portal for the few crucial seconds required to teleport. He might even get teleported back, himself. 

So instead of attempting brute force, Tango stalks forward- though not close enough to be grabbed- flattens his ears, bares his teeth, and hisses.

“Go home,” Tango hisses lowly. “Right. Now.”

That seems to take Jimmy aback. He raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “Ex-cuse me?” he demands, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, hang on-”

“You shouldn’t be here!” Tango interrupts, his voice catching somewhere between anger and desperation. “This is-”

“You shouldn’t be here! What-”

“You’re not safe here-”

“- tryin’ to- well, neither are you!”

“- and you need to go back!”

“I’m not goin’ back without you!” Jimmy gives up on trying to keep his voice down, wings flaring out in agitation. “I thought we were in this together! I- god, Tango, we want to help you, we all just wanna help-”

“It’s not your problem!” Tango snaps, his temper rising. “Alright? It was my mistake that brought Bravo and Hels Tek to our door, you- why should you have to deal with it? What, just ‘cause we got randomly assigned to be soulmates? You didn’t sign up for all this!”

Jimmy’s expression darkens. “Yes, I did, that’s what it means to be a partner.” He reaches for Tango’s arm. “Tango, I love you-”

“I know!” Tango jerks away. “I know that, okay? But you- did it ever occur to you that maybe I love you, too? Maybe I don’t want you to put yourself at risk fighting my battles for me? Because I love you?” He rakes his claws through his hair, a mirthless laugh escaping him. “Is that- did that happen to cross your mind? That maybe for once I- I did something ‘cause I love you and not ‘cause I hate myself? Maybe I could do the selfless act of love every now and then? I mean, is that- is that so hard to believe?”

Jimmy stares at him for a moment, brown eyes blown wide. Even in the absence of their soulbond, Tango can tell he’s hurt. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Jimmy says finally, voice quiet. “I know you love me. Of course I know you love me. But Tango, honestly- can you honestly tell me that this decision wasn’t- that- that it had absolutely nothing to do with feelin’ like you deserve to be here?” he asks desperately. “No influence on your decision at all? Not a- a single part of you that thinks it’d be okay if you got trapped here again, suffering forever? Not even the slightest bit?”

Shit.

Tango sets his jaw. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” Jimmy repeats, disbelieving. “Of course it does-”

“No, I don’t- you need to leave!”

“I’m not leavin’ you, I mean it!”

“I already told you, I don’t want-”

“Tango, please.” Jimmy holds out his hand. He looks close to tears. “Let’s go home. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Tango swallows back a frustrated whine; he doesn’t have time for this. Atlas has no doubt already noticed his arrival, and he still needs to find Bravo. And the longer they stand here loudly arguing in front of an active portal, the greater the risk of discovery. It’s already a miraculous stroke of luck that the portal spawned in an uninhabited area.

Jimmy can’t force Tango back through the portal any more than Tango can force him. Besides, starting a physical fight with Jimmy would probably be his breaking point. This is hard enough already. He spends a precious second to take in Jimmy’s face; the thin line his mouth has pressed into, the tears brimming in his eyes, the scar across his crooked nose.

Then Tango turns on his heel and sprints away.

It’s a last-ditch effort kind of gambit. He’s hoping that if he loses Jimmy in the basalt delta, Jimmy won’t know what else to do but go back through the portal for help. And once he does, Tango can swoop in and break it. Problem solved.

There’s a surprised shout behind him. Wing beats fill the air as Jimmy takes flight. But Tango’s head start has already allowed him to reach the first outcropping of basalt, pock-marked with pools of lava. Without breaking stride, he leaps up onto the ledge of stone-

Only for his foot to catch on a tripwire.

Pistons go off while he’s still mid-jump. The ground opens up into a black pit beneath him. His claws scrape uselessly against the lip of basalt and suddenly he’s falling, stomach lurching, too shocked to even call out as wind whistles by his ears and he plummets into the darkness below, Jimmy’s voice screaming after him.

“Tango!”

Traps. He forgot to look for traps.

Weightless, Tango struggles to right himself. The hole is pitch black and it’s disorienting, wavering light from his dim blaze rods flickering against the walls. His mind races frantically. Even if he could pull a block from his inventory and place it down under him- and he’s not sure that he could, at the speed he’s falling- the damage would kill him anyways. No, better to see how this ends. If he’s dumb enough to fall for a trap, he should at least give it the satisfaction of killing him as intended.

Although, Tango’s been falling for more than a couple seconds and he hasn’t hit anything yet. That’s unusual. Few trappers care to dig holes this deep when a shallow pit of lava will have the same result. Maybe death isn’t the goal here. Maybe-

Light, somewhere down below. As it gets closer, Tango thinks he can see the walls of the hole open up into a larger room. But the bottom still goes down- into a pit of cobwebs. So that’s it. The trap was designed to capture players, not kill them. But why-

“Tango!”

Jimmy’s voice echoes wildly in the tunnel. Tango glances back over his shoulder to see Jimmy diving towards him, arms stretched forward and wings flattened, body straight as an arrow. 

Tango doesn’t currently have the breath to call out to him. If he did, it’d probably be something along the lines of, ‘No no no no no, why did you follow me, you idiot!’ and that wouldn’t be very constructive.

Jimmy hooks his arms underneath Tango’s, snaps his wings out, and takes them sailing out through the gap in the tunnel.

The abrupt swerve makes Tango’s stomach drop. Jimmy barely manages to avoid taking them directly into a wall, wings flaring, wind whipping around them. They tumble into an ungraceful- but not deadly- landing, tangled up in a pile of limbs.

The room they’ve flown into is large but rather crude, carved out of the netherrack and deepslate that make up the deepest levels of Hels- more of a cavern, really. A few scattered torches along the walls provide the room’s only lighting, and they’ve landed among a collection of haphazardly-placed chests- a chest monster to rival Scar’s. The center of the room is occupied by the hole at the bottom of the dropchute. Beyond it is something that makes Tango’s blood run cold.

Half of the room is covered in elaborate redstone circuitry, feeding into an empty portal frame. It’s an eerily similar setup to their own portal, and Tango is at once certain he knows who this base belongs to.

He processes this all in the couple seconds it takes him to get on his feet. Jimmy’s still crumpled beside him, uninjured but disoriented. Shit. He hadn’t planned to have Jimmy with him for this confrontation and it has him on edge, his skin crawling. The room’s empty right now, but he can’t see another way out except back up through the dropchute- it’s a precarious place to be in. He doesn’t like what being backed into a corner does to him.

“Ugh,” Jimmy groans softly, pushing himself upright. “Not one’a my better landin’s…”

“Shh,” Tango hisses.

Jimmy frowns at him, rising to his feet. “Tango, can you just-”

“Quiet!” Tango urges, gaze flicking around the room. Their sudden presence doesn’t seem to have set off any alarms, but there’s no telling what the trap was hooked up to-

Ca-clunk.

Tango’s ears prick at the sound of more pistons. He whirls around, hackles rising, to see part of the adjacent wall open up.

“Well,” Bravo says, stepping into the room, “isn’t this convenient?”

Tango had been mentally preparing himself to see his doppelgänger again, but he’s still taken aback at the state Bravo’s in. His hair and clothes are wild and unkempt, the stains on his shirt indistinguishable between redstone and blood. There’s a weariness about him, like he hasn’t slept in days, yet every muscle in his body is tense, his bruised knuckles gripping a netherite sword. Most striking, however, is his face; his green eyes are so bloodshot they’re almost red, and heavily lined with dark circles that- in a bizarre way- resemble wither stains.

So for a moment, it’s like Tango’s looking in a mirror.

It passes quickly. Tango forces the tension from his body, holding up his hands. “Take it easy, alright, I just wanna talk.”

“I?” Bravo tilts his head to the side, taking another step forward as the wall closes up behind him. “Uh, it looks like- looks to me like there’s two of you, pal.” His gaze cuts over to Jimmy, and his mouth quirks into a grin- hard and humorless. “Good to see ya, Jimmy.”

Tango bristles. “Leave him out of this,” he says lowly, stepping in front of Jimmy. “He wasn’t supposed to come.”

Jimmy makes a noise of protest. “Hang on-”

“Ohh, oh okay,” Bravo says, nodding slowly, “I- I see what this is. This is- hah, wow, this is kinda perfect.” He begins to pace in front of them, idly twirling his sword in his hand; there’s an unsettling air about him. “Lemme guess, you uh- you intended to come here alone, but your soulmate had other ideas?”

He spits the word like an insult. Tango feels his lip curl. “None of your business.” 

“Oh? It’s not?” Bravo barks out a laugh- a sharp contrast to the enraged look in his eyes. “Well, you’re in my fucking house, so, you know. Forgive my curiosity.”

Anger flares inside Tango; he pushes it down. “Look, I know we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot-”

“You fucking think?”

“Enough!” Jimmy shouts, wings flaring as he throws an arm out in front of Tango. “Bravo, listen to me. I don’t like you, alright, but we aren’t here to fight.”

“Obviously.” Bravo actually rolls his eyes. “I can- I can piece it together well enough, okay. You figured that you could come rescue me from Hels, and then I- everything will be peachy-keen, right? I mean, if- if you wanted me to stay here, you wouldn’t have opened a portal. Except this one,” he stops his pacing, leveling his sword at Tango, “got it in his thick head that it was somethin’ he needed ‘to do alone.’ So he snuck off by himself, on a solo mission of noble, stupid self-sacrifice, in the hopes that it’d make up for what he did-”

“Shut up,” Tango growls.

“- and that it’d keep you safe. Right?” Bravo’s voice drips with malice. “Except poor Jimmy’s too good to let you take the fall alone so he followed you here, right into my trap.”

“So what?” Tango demands with a bravado he doesn’t feel. Truthfully, Bravo’s words have opened a pit in his stomach; he hates that Bravo has seen through him so clearly. “What, I mean- you want a trophy for figuring it out? And- and why set a trap for us if your plan was clearly to get out through a portal of your own?”

Bravo scowls. “That trap wasn’t for you, actually. It’s for the damn mercenaries that’ve been comin’ after us since I split from Hels Tek.”

Jimmy frowns. “Us?”

Bravo’s face twitches. “Wh- me. Whatever.”

“You split from Hels Tek?” Tango asks, furrowing his brows. He knew Atlas and Bravo had fought back on Double Life, but he wasn’t sure if that’d be enough to make Bravo willingly take on Hels by himself.

Bravo snorts. “Yeah, I- I uh, I don’t take kindly to bein’ stabbed in the back, but Atlas still wanted a portal and wasn’t gonna take no for an answer, so.”

Tango would laugh at the irony, if he didn’t feel so sick to his stomach. “Wow,” he drawls, still unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, “so it turned out Atlas only cared about you as far as he could exploit you? Imagine that.” 

Clearly, he’s touched a nerve. “Shut up,” Bravo snaps.

“Watch it,” Jimmy snaps back. 

Unbothered, Tango glances around the cavern. “So wait, you- it’s only been like, what, a- a couple weeks since you respawned here, how- where did you get all these supplies?”

“Eh, found a new sponsor.” Bravo shrugs. “You know, I was probably only a few more days away from gettin’ my portal up and running ‘til you guys showed up. But it worked out nice this way, right?” There’s a manic light in his eyes. “I- I was gonna get my vengeance on you once I got back to the overworld, but instead, we can do it right now.”

That’s all the warning he gives before he attacks.

He’s fast, faster than Tango’s expecting. It’s all he can do to shove Jimmy out of the way, diving into a roll that brings him quickly back to his feet. He only brought one sword; he pulls it from his inventory and throws it to Jimmy without a second thought, because he doubts Jimmy prepared at all before coming through the portal and swords have always felt clumsy in his hands. There’s a reason traditional PVP has never been his strong suit.

The sword has barely left his grasp before Bravo’s springing at him again.

Screech!

Tango brings his claws up in time to catch Bravo’s blade between them. The force of the blow shudders through his arms. Bravo’s strong, too- stronger than Tango would think for a non-hybrid version of himself.

“Stop it!” Tango huffs. “We don’t wanna fight you!”

“Too bad!” Bravo sneers.

Well, if that’s what he wants. Tango ducks under the sword and brings a hand up to slash at Bravo’s face. Bravo disengages, darting backwards, out of reach- he readjusts his grip for another swing.

“Hey, lay off!”

Jimmy charges into the fray; Bravo pivots mid-swing to block Jimmy’s blade, the clang of metal reverberating through the cavern. He leans into the movement, bringing his leg up to deliver a swift kick to Jimmy’s side.

With a pained grunt, Jimmy stumbles, off-balance. Bravo raises his sword to slash again- but Tango rushes him, forcing him back. Claws swipe through empty air.

“Gotta do better than that,” Bravo tuts, flicking his sword out to nick Tango’s cheek.

The sharp pain and sudden scent of blood is disorienting. Tango lunges forward almost blindly, a snarl catching in the back of his throat. Rage bubbles inside him, and he can feel his fire trying to respond- but with the wither rose in his system, it’s like throwing a match into a well.

Bravo deftly steps around him. “There’s that famous Tango temper again!” he taunts. “Go on, show us exactly how much of a monster you are.” 

The words sober Tango instantly. He swallows back his rage; the last thing he wants to do is lose control like he did back at the ranch, especially when Jimmy could get hurt. His fire may be dampened, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.

Then his ears twitch at a furious shout- Jimmy surges into the air, wings beating, and swoops down at Bravo. “Don’t you dare call him that!”

In the same moment, Tango moves to block Bravo’s escape route, aiming for his hands in an attempt to disarm him.

But Bravo’s ready for them both. 

He ducks beneath Tango’s claws and side-steps Jimmy’s attack, jabbing the pommel of his sword into Tango’s gut as a parting blow. Wings flailing, Jimmy pulls up short to avoid slamming into Tango- and yelps as Bravo’s sword cleaves a handful of feathers into the air.

“Come on!” Bravo goads them. “That the best you can do?”

Tango hadn’t gotten much of a chance to actually observe Bravo fight during the Hels Tek invasion, and he’s sorely regretting it now. It’s clear Bravo’s got more experience with PVP than either of them. And not the type of casual sparring between friends, but genuine life-or-death fighting- fast, messy, and brutal. Even being two against one isn’t helping them much; Bravo keeps on the move, twisting through and around them with a practiced ease that leaves them struggling not to accidentally hit each other.

A detached part of Tango’s mind runs through their options. Being killed and ending up at the world spawn would be the worst-case scenario; they’d basically be gift-wrapped for Atlas to come snatch up. But he doesn’t think joining through a hacked portal would reset their spawns; after all, the Hels Tek invaders wound up back in Hels after they were killed. Of course, he’d rather not find out for certain. And if he ends up respawning back to Double Life, his entire goal in coming here alone goes up in smoke. He won’t get another chance at this- the other Double Lifers will insist on putting themselves in danger to help him, ‘cause they’re annoyingly kind like that, and everything will turn into a big flaming ball of disaster.

So it’s really in his best interest not to get killed right now.

Except, he can’t help but notice that Bravo actually doesn’t seem to be trying to kill them. Most of what he’s aiming for are non-vital structures- arms, legs, Jimmy’s wings. When he does land an attack above the belt, it almost seems like he’s holding back, leaving only shallow gashes or a blunt hit with a skillfully thrown fist, knee, or elbow.

And despite clearly being the superior fighter, he’s mainly staying on the defensive. He isn’t taking nearly as many swings as he could. It’s an endurance game, Tango realizes- he’s trying to tire them out. But why? He’s on his own, it’s not like he’s stalling for reinforcements. There’s nowhere for them to go. That is, nowhere except-

Tango’s gaze falls on the pit at the bottom of the dropchute.

Oh. Oh, that’s-

Wham!

Pain explodes through Tango’s skull.

Bravo’s taken advantage of Tango’s brief lapse in concentration, landing a solid punch on the side of his face. It’s enough to make him black out for a moment, every thought in his brain screeching to a halt. When he comes back to himself, his cheek is pressed against the floor, made warm and sticky with his pooling blood. There’s a faint ringing in his ears- above it, he can barely make out the sound of swords clashing somewhere in front of him.

Tango manages to lift his head, blinking spots from his vision.

Bravo is driving Jimmy back- back towards the center of the room where the pit is. Tango opens his mouth to scream a warning, but he’s too late. As they near the edge of the pit, Bravo suddenly steps under Jimmy’s guard, hooking a leg behind Jimmy’s foot as one hand comes up to twist his sword out of his grip. Bravo’s other arm slams against Jimmy’s chest, knocking him off-balance.

Jimmy falls backwards with a shout, into the pit of cobwebs. He doesn’t fall very deep, of course- that’s not how cobwebs work. But he is immediately stuck, wings and limbs straining as he slowly begins to sink.

“Jimmy!” Tango cries, his heart jolting. 

Oh, this is bad. Getting out of cobwebs without a sword, while slowly falling through them, will be almost impossible. Especially since Jimmy’s feathers are particularly prone to sticking to that stuff and every movement will cause him pain as he pulls on them.

“There.” Satisfied, Bravo stows Jimmy’s sword in his inventory before turning back to Tango. “Now we can finally finish this.”

“No!” Jimmy pleads desperately from the pit, already disappearing from view. “Leave ‘em alone!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill him,” Bravo tuts as he approaches Tango. “That- I mean, that’d just send you back home, right? Hacked portals don’t do the whole spawn reset-ification thing, as it turns out.” He shakes his head. “No, I- what I’m gonna do is arrange a little meeting with our old buddy Atlas to come pick you up, okay, and- and then I’ll finally get him off my back and be able to leave this fucking place for good.”

Terror shoots through Tango. If Atlas comes here, with Jimmy trapped like this…

Head pounding, Tango struggles to get to his feet. “Y- you don’t have to do this,” he says weakly. “I know I messed up, a- and I’m sorry, okay? But Jimmy had nothin’ to do with it, he- you have to let him go, please.”

Bravo’s lip curls. “I’m not gonna let Atlas get him. Believe it or not, I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let another overworlder get trapped here.”

Despite the severity of the situation, the offended disdain in his tone makes Tango snort. “Oh, sorry, uh- excuse me for thinkin’ you’d ever do such a terrible thing,” he rasps. “I- I mean, you can’t blame me, right? You- it’s not like you’ve made a great impression.”

Bravo’s eyes darken with anger, and then his fist is in Tango’s stomach. The punch makes Tango double over, gasping for breath- then a well-placed kick throws him back against the wall, pain crashing through his ribs.

“What’re you doin’?!” Jimmy’s panicked voice sounds from the pit- he’s sunken far enough down that he can’t see them anymore. “Don’t hurt him!”

Bravo ignores him, stalking forward to grab Tango by the front of his shirt. “You’re one to talk, you piece of shit,” he hisses in Tango’s face, reeling back for another hit.

Crack.

This one lands the hilt of his sword against Tango’s jaw. Bravo drops him to the ground in a crumpled heap.

“Tango!” Jimmy’s scream sounds far away.

Everything is pain. With no small amount of effort, Tango pushes himself upright, breathing raggedly through his nose. He can feel blood trickling down his chin from his split lip, can taste it stained against his teeth. His head aches. His body is shaking. There’s a cold pit of dread in his stomach, and he knows that he’s lost this fight.

But more than that, deep down, there’s the realization that maybe… he always expected to.

(It’s not like coming here without Jimmy would’ve changed the outcome. No matter what Tango said or did, Bravo was always going to react this way- why would Tango think anything different? Despite his intention to extend the olive branch, he knows Bravo wouldn’t have been satisfied to just let bygones be bygones.

Truthfully, Tango had been prepared for this the moment he saw that red light fill their portal. Bravo had nailed it right at the start; this was always going to be a mission of self-sacrifice. If giving himself up meant placating Bravo and Hels Tek, if it meant that the people he cared about would be safe, then Tango had been willing to accept it. Even if it meant going back to the farm for the rest of his life.

He’s already had ten years in the sun. That’s more than anyone else in Hels got.)

Bravo looms over him, a mad, triumphant grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna spend the rest of your days in that farm where you belong,” he says lowly, “and out of the life you stole from me. You’re nothin’ but an evil monster, and it’s what you deserve.”

A strange feeling settles over Tango.

It’s like déjà vu, to sit here and listen to his doppelgänger repeat all the horrible things Tango’s believed about himself almost his entire life, all the things he’s told himself in the mirror time and time again. It’s his words spoken in his voice out of an eerily similar face, as if all his deepest insecurities have taken form.

It’s achingly, hauntingly familiar. Like a knife tracing over old scars.

And yet, there’s something odd about hearing it from another person. To hear such hatred and conviction in that voice, to see it so plainly in his eyes. Tango’s well aware that there are plenty of players who feel the same way- not just about him, but other hostile mob hybrids, too. He’s no stranger to prejudice; he’s noticed the wary looks and distrustful glares he’s gotten on public multiplayer worlds before.

Hell, Atlas is attempting to build an empire on the very concept of oppressing hybrids, and he’s had plenty of help to do it. Not just his fellow redstone scientists, but sponsors and buyers, too. Lots of players have reason to want Tango in a farm, to exploit and degrade him. But only because they would profit from it- otherwise they wouldn’t bother wasting so much time and energy on him. Sure, Atlas probably hates him to some degree, and is indifferent at best to all the pain he’s been caused. But Tango’s also certain that if he weren’t useful, then Atlas wouldn’t give him a second thought. If he couldn’t be farmed, Atlas would never have come after him in the first place. It’s all about ambition with Atlas; he wouldn’t waste time on petty revenge schemes.

Bravo, on the other hand, stands to gain absolutely nothing from this except the satisfaction of knowing Tango is suffering. How strange, that the only player to ever really demonstrate that desire isn’t even from Hels.

And with that thought, everything falls into place.

Tango wheezes out a laugh, though he immediately regrets it- fuck, his ribs. “So that’s where I get my sadism from! Good to know, good to know.”

The smirk drops off Bravo’s face. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

Tango wipes the blood from his face. “I mean, I- we- we’ve established that I’m just a uh, a physical manifestation of all the evil parts of you, yeah? That’s what Hels are? Well, if that’s true, then every bad thing about me is somethin’ I got from you.” He grins, despite the pain of his split lip. “Can’t pour from an empty bottle, right?”

Bravo balks at him. “No, that’s not- it’s different,” he argues. “It’s- this is justified, you took everything from me-”

“So now you’re gonna do the same?” Tango raises his eyebrows. Bracing a hand against the wall, he slowly rises to his feet. “Funny, I- I thought that you were supposed to be a better person than me.”

“I am!” Bravo insists angrily.

Tango shrugs. “Well, you sure ain’t actin’ like it, skippy.”

That seems to take Bravo aback. “I- I don’t-” He rakes a hand through his hair, his breathing quickening. “It’s- it’s you, it’s this fucking place, it’s- I don’t know, it’s every-fucking-thing that’s happened in the last ten years! I- I didn’t deserve this, I didn’t do anything to deserve getting sent here!”

“Hold on, what makes you think I did anything to deserve gettin’ sent here?” Tango asks, genuinely curious. “I was spawned here as a child, I mean, what- what could a child possibly do to ‘deserve’ spawning here? What could any of us have done to deserve this?”

Ooh, Bravo doesn’t like that question. “I don’t know,” he splutters, “I didn’t make you spawn here! That was the universe, it- it must know that you- all you Hels- you’re just destined to be bad.”

Tango tilts his head. “Yeah? If that’s the case, then uh, why did the universe send you here?”

Bravo makes a sound like he’s been punched. “What?”

“I didn’t make that portal. You didn’t make that portal. We all know that the universe makes portals to Hermitcraft so why-”

“Stop it! It was a mistake! A glitch! I- I was never meant to come to Hels, you-”

“Then how has every other Hermit joined without having the same problem? Huh? Why you? Why us?”

“Shut up!” Bravo cries, almost desperate. “I’m the one in the right, here!”

“Says who?” Tango asks.

“I just- I have to be in the right!” Bravo protests, throwing an arm out. “I- I’m not like you, I’m not a Hels, I’m supposed to be the good one. If I’m mad, if I wanna hurt someone, it has to be justified, ‘cause I’m not- I’m not cruel.”

Tango just looks at him.

Bravo seems to recognize the irony in his words. It hits him almost like a physical attack; he staggers, eyes widening, face twisting with rage. “Don’t you dare fucking judge me!” he shouts as he raises his sword accusingly at Tango, voice echoing off the cavern walls. “I’m just- I did what I had to do to survive, and- and it ruined me. This world ruined me, and it’s all your fault, you bastard!”

They’re hollow accusations, built from hurt and deflected blame. But it doesn’t occur to Tango to defend himself against them. He couldn’t if he wanted to; all he can do is watch Bravo in stunned silence.

Even without the ability to set himself ablaze, Bravo’s rage is a terrible thing to behold. Tears stream down his reddened face; a mixture of fury and despair, raw and ugly. “It’s not fair!” he wails, almost a breathless scream. “Why did you get to be saved? Why did I have to take your place? What- what did I do?”

He takes another step closer, drawing his sword back, and Tango is suddenly struck by the very real possibility that Bravo is about to kill him.

“You did this to me!” Bravo snarls, wild-eyed and heaving for breath. “You and e- everyone else in th- this fucking hellscape, you- you did this, you-!” 

Bravo lifts his sword for the killing blow-

And then he pauses. He stares at Tango, and Tango stares back.

“... fuck. What am I doing?”

Bravo stumbles back from Tango, lowering his sword. He clutches his head with his free hand, a few stray tears streaking down his face as he struggles to control his breathing. His anger seems to have extinguished, finally letting the pain seep through- an expression that Tango knows as intimately as his own reflection.

Tango blinks. 

It’s a complicated rush of emotions. Bravo represents the worst part of Tango’s life coming back to haunt him; his skeleton in the closet. Fueled by prejudice and misplaced blame, he fought tooth and nail to destroy the life Tango had built for himself, brought pain and hardship to a world of strangers who’d done nothing to deserve it. He made a deal with a devil to get what he wanted and didn’t care who got caught up in the crossfire. Most of all, despite having a viable way to escape Hels peacefully, he doggedly pursued revenge out of nothing but spite and a twisted sense of justice.

Logically, Tango should hate Bravo as much as Bravo hates him.

But for the first time, Tango tries to imagine what it must’ve been like to be trapped in Hels for ten years and not knowing why.

What Bravo went through is exactly what Tango’s always feared since he escaped; that one day his luck would run out, and he’d lose everything. His peaceful life in the overworld. His freedom. His friends, and the love he found with Jimmy- maybe Bravo had people he cared about before, too. Worst of all, Bravo had already experienced the wonders of the wider universe before having it abruptly taken from him.

Tango had been spawned into cruelty and suffering. He hadn’t known anything different, hadn’t known there was anything beyond Hels that he was missing out on. But Bravo did. Bravo knew what it was to travel between worlds, to explore untainted horizons, to live under the warmth of the sun. He knew cooperation and goodwill between players, the comfort and safety of solo worlds. And then suddenly, he’d been deprived of it all, with no way of knowing if he’d ever get it back.

So if Atlas told him that it wasn’t his fault, that he could blame it all on some mysterious, evil doppelgänger… Tango understands why he’d cling to the notion so fiercely.

It’s an easy thing to blame someone else. Accepting that Tango isn’t to blame for what he’s become means accepting that maybe his understanding of Hels players is flawed, and that he might not have been as good of a player as he thought to begin with. Accepting that Tango wasn’t to blame for stranding him in Hels in the first place would mean accepting that maybe… there wasn’t a reason at all. And that kind of acceptance is paramount to altering his entire worldview.

Tango’s been through that himself, once. It wasn’t a fun process. So right now, watching Bravo fall apart in front of him, he finds that all he can feel is sympathy.

So Tango summons enough strength to step forward and wrap Bravo in a hug.

Bravo recoils at first; the kind of instinctive flinch that Tango knows all too well. A noise catches in his throat- part alarm, part disgust. “What’re you-” He tries to push away, but Tango holds fast.

“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers. “You didn’t deserve it.”

Bravo freezes. 

The air is still and silent around them, filled with nothing but the faint flickering of torches and Bravo’s shrill breathing. He’s as rigid as stone in Tango’s embrace- his muscles are so tense, it feels like they’re going to snap. After a few moments, he inhales sharply, and Tango is almost certain he’s about to receive a sword in the gut but he doesn’t let go, because he remembers what it’s like to live in this world and if he can’t even show his own doppelgänger kindness then he really hasn’t learned anything at all-

The sword clatters to the ground. And Bravo breaks.

He folds into the embrace and begins to sob. He sobs hard, shaking and gasping for breath in between, clinging to Tango like his life depends on it. Tears quickly dampen the collar of Tango’s shirt. It’s different from his earlier furious cries- this is absolute devastation, heart-wrenching and all-consuming. It’s a flood ten years in the making, finally spilling over all the careful walls that Bravo’s built around himself. And now that it’s here, there’s no stopping it.

Tango doesn’t speak. He simply eases them down to sit on the floor- he can’t support both his and Bravo’s weight right now. Bravo practically collapses, body limp, legs curled awkwardly beneath him but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. He sags against Tango and cries, and Tango lets him.

It’s slightly bizarre, holding his doppelgänger while he cries. Especially when he was attacking Tango not even two minutes ago. In many ways, it’s a disturbing echo of his own past breakdowns- he can hear himself so clearly in Bravo’s voice, the raw ache of it.

But he’s glad for it. New growth can only happen once the old is torn down. It’s a messy, unpleasant process. It won’t be quick or easy. Bravo has only just taken the first step- he’s still got a long, difficult journey ahead of him. But Tango knows how beautiful it’ll be, to come out through the other side.

And he thinks maybe he needed this, too.

Tango isn’t sure how much time they spend like that. Only when Bravo has finally grown silent, just the occasional sniffle or shaky breath, does Tango sit back enough to meet Bravo’s teary gaze.

“And neither did I,” he continues quietly. “And neither did anyone else who’s ever spawned here, that- that’s the point.”

Bravo sniffs, wiping his face on his sleeve. “But… the universe has to spawn you here for a reason,” he insists, his voice small and confused. Like a child.

Tango’s mildly surprised to find he feels no anger- just pity. “Maybe the universe is wrong.”

Distress flashes across Bravo’s face; clearly, he’s never considered that before. He pulls away from Tango but he doesn’t go far, tucking his knees to his chest. “So then... all this pain, all this struggle... was for nothing,” he says miserably. “Everything I went through... a- and everything I did... I- I was so sure there had to be a reason, that I was different from the players here, that I didn’t belong here. But I- I’m fucked up. I used to be a nice person, but…”

“Nice isn’t the same thing as good,” Tango says simply. “And I would know.”

Bravo swallows. “… how did you do it?” he asks hoarsely. “You’re a Hels, why… how come this world didn’t ruin you, too? How did you end up being the good one?”

It’s an exceedingly vulnerable question, without a hint of reproach. Tango hums, leaning back on his arms. “Y’know, I spent a long time in this world. I- I grew up where it’s kill or be killed, murder first ask questions later, everyone’ll sell you out for a piece of rotten flesh. That was just normal. That was expected. If you’d known me back then, I- I would’ve been no different from any other Hels. I set horrible traps for fun. I cost random players, people I didn’t even know, their resources and their lives in an already harsh world, I mean- it wasn’t pretty. But I was a kid.” He glances sidelong at Bravo. “I was just a teenager when Atlas took me in, did you- did he ever tell you that?” 

Bravo’s surprised expression is all the answer Tango needs.

“Nah, I guess he wouldn’t,” Tango sighs ruefully. “But the first person I thought was different- the first person who I thought saw more in me than the capacity for chaos, who offered me a home, a sense of belonging, a purpose... it turned out to be a trick. All of it, a lie. Just to get me into a horrible farm for the rest of my life, suffering constant withering and being harvested for my resources, like- like I was nothin’ more than a mob.” He gives Bravo a half-hearted grin. “You’d think that’d seal it, right? Like, that would just totally destroy any remaining faith I had in playerkind. And uh, it came pretty close, actually. But then I got out.”

He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “The universe created a portal, and I escaped to a world where players were kind. And generous, and… gave you the benefit of the doubt. They didn’t assume the worst, they didn’t judge you based on what you looked like. It was… completely foreign. I took advantage of it at first, I mean, I- I was a total jerk. I’m just lucky they thought it was all in good fun, jokes and pranks and stuff- or, or uh, maybe they did know, and still chose to show me grace, I dunno. What I do know is that after enough time had passed… I changed. My wants, my goals, my- my entire outlook on life changed. Suddenly I wanted to be good, I- I tried so hard to be good. And that only happened ‘cause I got the chance.” 

He meets Bravo’s gaze, raising his eyebrows. “And- and I was an adult at that point, I’d grown up in Hels. I mean, imagine what I might’ve been like if I’d spawned on a normal world, grown up in the normal way. Hell, imagine if any other Hels kid got that chance. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many differences between us. Like, maybe even someone like Atlas could’ve been better.” He shrugs. “And maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he always would’ve grown up to be an asshole. Either way, there’s no way of knowing if they never have the chance.”

Bravo looks pensive, his brows knitted together. “I guess I… never thought of that.”

Tango dares to reach out and put a hand on Bravo’s arm. “I’m sorry you got sent here. If I’d known about it when it happened... well, I- I probably still wouldn’t have said anything, if I’m honest,” he admits. “Like you said, I did what I had to do to survive. But I’m sorry for what you went through, and for what my role in that was. If I’d been brave enough to speak up, maybe we could’a helped you sooner, I dunno.” 

Bravo glances away. “I… understand,” he says haltingly. “It, uh… it doesn’t excuse the way I’ve been actin’, so. You know.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “For what it’s worth, I- I don’t think ‘being good’ is somethin’ that’s like… intrinsically handed to us, just by virtue of where we spawn. I think good is a choice that we make, every second of every day of our lives. And y’know, deciding not to choose good in one moment doesn’t mean we can never choose good again.” He huffs a soft laugh. “I mean, if you ask me, that’s way more important than the world we spawn in.”

Bravo looks at him for a moment. His expression is impossible to read. Then determination settles over him, his eyes hardening, before he abruptly gets to his feet. Without a word, he marches over to one of the chests on the floor and rummages through it. Before Tango can say anything, Bravo pulls out an item and tosses it over to him.

Tango catches it, mostly on reflex; it’s a potion of instant health.

“You take that,” Bravo says briskly, stooping over to pick his sword off the ground, “while I go help Jimmy out of there.”

Then he jumps into the pit, slashing through cobwebs on his way down.

Tango blinks. Well, then. Guess that’s decided. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the sweet aftertaste of glistering melon, and rises to his feet. It hasn’t fully restored him, but it’s taken the edge off his fresh injuries and given him enough strength to be a functional player again, and he’s quite satisfied with that for now.

Putting away the empty bottle, he wanders over to the edge of the pit, catching the tail end of Jimmy snapping at Bravo as he approaches.

“- where you’re swingin’ that thing!”

“I’m tryin’ to help! Just hold still-”

“Don’t you tell me to- ouch!”

“You’re makin’ it worse! Hang on…”

Tango’s only just leaned over to look when Jimmy flies out of the pit. His wings are ruffled and there are a few places where it’s obvious that some feathers were pulled out, a few stray bits of cobweb still clinging here and there. But aside from the scrapes and bruises he received during their fight with Bravo, he looks none the worse for wear. He’s been gracious enough to carry Bravo out with him, though he’s quick to dump Bravo back on the ground once they’re clear of the pit.

“Tango!” Jimmy swoops over and nearly knocks Tango over, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Oh my gosh, I- I was so worried, are you alright?”

Despite the ache in his bones, Tango hugs him back just as fiercely. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, hun,” he reassures Jimmy, voice muffled in the crook of his shoulder.

Right now, he wants nothing more than to curl up in Jimmy’s embrace and fall asleep. Between the fight and his unexpected heart-to-heart with Bravo, he’s physically and emotionally worn out. But even though the immediate threat has been nullified, he knows they aren’t done yet.

Tango pulls back just enough to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “I’m sorry for all this,” he murmurs, reaching a hand up to cup Jimmy’s face. “I thought… if I came here by myself, I’d be protecting you- protecting everyone- from suffering the consequences of my mistake.”

Jimmy covers Tango’s hand with his own. “Did you… did you come here with the intent of givin’ yourself up?” he asks quietly.

Tango winces. “Well, I didn’t- that wasn’t my main goal, no, but uh- I- I knew it was a possibility,” he confesses. “I mean, ideally I would’ve patched things up with Bravo and- and somehow gotten the key from Atlas on my own, but… I was prepared to fail, yeah. I’d accepted it.”

Jimmy looks sad, but not surprised. “Y’know,” he starts softly, “you- you always talk about, uh… not wantin’ to hurt us, not wantin’ us to suffer for your mistakes. But I don’t think you realize that for us, the thought of losin’ you is far worse than whatever else might happen. I mean, I- I’d go through that battle with Hels Tek a hundred times over if it meant not losin’ you. And I know the others feel the same way.”

“Oh.” Tango’s throat tightens. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”

“I know.” A bittersweet smile spreads across Jimmy’s face. “I know it’s hard for you to believe sometimes, alright, but you- we’re rather fond of you, mate. So, um… d’you think you could give the self-sacrificial nonsense a rest?”

Despite everything, Tango feels himself grin. “I can try, yeah,” he says, leaning up to give Jimmy a kiss.

(On the inside, Tango is still terrified at how this might turn out. Hels is a dangerous world, and tangling with Atlas and the rest of Hels Tek is no small order. A horrible painful death is the least of his concerns- if Jimmy or any of the other Double Lifers ended up in a farm, Tango would never forgive himself.

But if today taught him anything, it’s that the people he cares about are just as stubborn as he is. No matter what he says or does, they’re going to be determined to help him, because that’s just the kind of players they are. And he could continue to try and fight it, to try and go it alone, but he’s sure they’ll still somehow put themselves in harm’s way.

So rather than fight it, maybe he can accept that they’re able to make their own decisions and take their own risks. And that working with them, rather than against them, might give them all the best chance of having a favorable outcome. They’ll certainly have an easier time dealing with Atlas if they don’t have to worry about Tango pulling another dirty, reckless move like this.)

Behind them, Bravo coughs into his fist. “Uh, hey, are you two done…?”

Jimmy breaks away with a huff of annoyance. “What?” he demands, keeping an arm around Tango’s waist.

“Just thinkin’ out loud here,” Bravo says, holding his hands up, “but uh, you- there’s no way you two are gonna be able to take on Hels Tek alone. I mean, you’ve already lost the element of surprise, I- he’s probably noticed your arrival in chat by now. And Hels Tek is several days away on foot, how- what, are you just- are you just gonna walk there? You’d barely make it a hundred blocks before gettin’ killed, what with your abysmal PVP skills.”

Jimmy scowls at the slight against them, but Tango frowns. “You’re right,” he amends. “I uh, I honestly didn’t have much of a plan besides ‘winging it’ when I came through, I- I was on a bit of a time crunch.”

“So what do you propose we do?” Jimmy asks Bravo pointedly.

Bravo rolls his eyes. “I mean, I just wanna get the fuck out of here. But if you guys are tryin’ to get the key to that collar skadoodler from Atlas, you’re gonna need help.”

“From you?” Jimmy’s distrust is evident in his voice. “Why?”

Bravo crosses his arms, shoulders hunched defensively. “I dunno, I- maybe I feel bad about the part I played in all this and feel like I owe you guys one?”

Jimmy scoffs. “Doubtful.”

Bravo opens his mouth to retort, but Tango intervenes. “Hey, I know you probably couldn’t hear everything from the bottom of that pit,” he tells Jimmy, “but uh, I- I really think we’ve worked it out, now.” He glances over at Bravo, smiling. “I think we can trust him.”

Shock flares in Bravo’s eyes, his expression sobering. He gives a slight nod.

Jimmy purses his lips. “Fine, but I still don’t like it-”

Ca-clunk.

Pistons activate, making all three of them whirl around to face the wall. Tango’s mind is already racing through the different possibilities- maybe Bravo was actually just stalling until backup came, or maybe Atlas was able to track them down on his own, or maybe it’s even a completely random player who stumbled across the base- but that all comes screeching to a halt as soon as he sees the player who steps out into the room.

Because that’s Jimmy.

Or- well- not exactly. It’s obviously not Jimmy because he’s still standing next to Tango. But it’s immediately apparent that, despite the several major differences between them, this is Jimmy’s doppelgänger, his Hels counterpart.

It seems impossible. Or at least, highly improbable, that Jimmy’s doppelgänger would be here, of all places, and now, of all times, when Hels is a massive, infinite world full of nearly infinite players.

But there’s no one else he could be.

“Bravo!” the player calls in Jimmy’s voice. “Did you- oh.” He draws up short when he sees them, seeming just as thrown by this turn of events as they are.

The first thing that jumps out at Tango is how skinny the player is. He’s practically emaciated; despite his tall frame, his limbs are no thicker than Tango’s, his big, watery eyes sunken into a hollow face- a face that, aside from the lack of a crooked nose, is almost identical to Jimmy’s. The large wings that trail behind him are black in color and poorly kept. He’s a lot paler than Jimmy is, too, almost a sickly sort of complexion. His ratty hair is a dull black, and- based on the sharp angles of the ends- was cut short very recently. 

Now Tango knows how Jimmy must’ve been feeling this whole time. It’s fucking weird.

Beside him, Jimmy’s breath catches. He takes a single, tentative step forward- though Tango is quick to throw an arm out in front of him. The player doesn’t look very threatening. He’s barefoot and dressed in rags, carrying no weapon or armor. But Tango’s still on guard. This is an unknown Hels player, after all.

The player stares at Jimmy, entranced. “Oh,” he breathes, a trembling hand coming up to tug on a strand of hair. A jumble of emotions flash across his face, too fast to read. “I see… you must be Jimmy.”

“And you’re Timmy,” Jimmy says softly, dawning realization settling over his features. “Aren’t you? Gosh…”

Tango recognizes the tone of their voices; they’re experiencing the same strange sensation he did, the first time he laid eyes on Bravo. That abrupt and absolute recognition of the self in the other. Despite meeting for the first time, there hadn’t been a doubt in Tango’s mind that Bravo was his doppelgänger. He’d known it as surely as his own name. It was something instinctual, almost primal- grounding and disorienting all at once.

Timmy. That’s the nickname that Grian and some of the other guys call Jimmy. A practical joke played on them by the universe, no doubt, to have spawned with the names they did.

Bravo finally unfreezes. “Timmy! I told you to wait for me to come get you!” he hisses, but Tango can see the guilt and shame on his face. 

“Sorry…” Timmy murmurs distantly, still fixated on Jimmy. “I was just… gosh, I- everythin’ makes sense now…” He finally turns to look at Bravo, and the faint, knowing smile on his face is devastatingly sad. “I… get why I wasn’t good enough.”

Bravo flinches. “No, no I- I didn’t mean-”

“Ey,” Jimmy cuts in, voice gentle but firm as he moves past Tango to approach Timmy. “C’mere, mate, it’s alright. Ignore him a second, hey?” He fans out a wing to block Bravo from view, nonverbally conveying that he’d like a private moment with his doppelgänger.

“Yeah, come on.” Tango takes the cue to grab Bravo by the arm, leading him to the other side of the room. “You- you wanna explain him?” he asks lowly, putting his hands on his hips. “I mean, how- where did you even find him?”

Bravo exhales heavily. “At spawn. Actually, I- we met the first time I ended up at world spawn, all those years ago. Go figure. He- he’d been livin’ there for god knows how long, just… starving to death, over and over again, ‘cause he was too scared to leave.”

Damn.

“Huh.” Tango nods slowly. “So… what were you sayin’ about all Hels being evil monsters…?”

Bravo tenses. “Shut up. He’s different.” He glances over his shoulder at the pair of avians. “I… after I was killed on your world, and- and escaped from Hels Tek, I ended up at spawn. He was still there, and this time… he agreed to come with me, so he could leave Hels with me once I got my portal working.”

“Mhmm.” Tango’s voice is terse, even to his own ears. “You, uh... didn’t happen to keep him around just ‘cause he’s my soulmate’s doppelgänger, did you?”

Bravo winces. “... maybe at first,” he admits. “But then- I dunno, I- I didn’t- things changed, alright?”

Tango folds his arms. “That’s pretty fucked up, to use him as a- a replacement Jimmy.”

“I know, okay?” Bravo hisses, but it’s lacking its usual venom. “I- I’ve had a lotta realizations in the last few minutes, alright? Gimme a break.”

Tango snorts but says nothing else, looking over to check on Jimmy.

He’s speaking to Timmy in low tones, eyes shining with concern. His demeanor is reserved, gentle, nonthreatening- he’s matching Timmy’s curled-in posture, just with less of the anxiety, more reassuring. And it seems to be working; even from this distance, it’s apparent Timmy’s slowly growing more comfortable, less afraid.

Sudden warmth swells in Tango’s chest. It’s overwhelming, meeting your doppelgänger, but Jimmy’s put all those complicated feelings aside to help a player who seems to sorely need it. His experience with Hels players thus far has been nothing but flat-out terrible, and yet it didn’t even occur to him to be wary of Timmy. Some might view that as foolish naivety or ignorance, maybe even stupidity. But to Tango, it’s a testament to Jimmy’s incredible kindness.

He couldn’t be more proud of his soulmate.

Eventually, Jimmy waves them over. “Hey, so uh, you got somethin’ to say to Timmy?” he asks Bravo, one hand resting protectively on Timmy’s bony shoulder.

Taken back, Bravo looks at Tango, who simply raises an eyebrow.

Bravo swallows. “Look,” he starts hesitantly, “I- I uh, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you, alright? It… wasn’t fair for me to compare you to Jimmy.”

Timmy’s avoiding his gaze, fidgeting with his hands, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Thanks,” he says softly.

Satisfied for the moment, Jimmy turns to Tango. “We can’t leave him here,” he says, completely resolute. “I- I think we should head back through the portal for now, regroup with the others and come up with a- with an actual plan? So long as we don’t break the portal, we’ll still be able to come back through. Even if he,” he nods at Bravo, “is with us.”

Tango rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “Right, right, yeah. I’m- the others are bound to notice we’re gone soon, so we should probably-”

“Oh!” Timmy gasps suddenly, smacking his forehead. “The others, right! Right, sorry, I uh- the reason I came to find you, Bravo, is that a- a whole buncha players just joined the world.” He cringes, apologetic. “I- I think it’s those guys you were tellin’ me about.”

“What?!” Bravo demands, sounding alarmed.

Tango whips out his communicator, eyes widening at the chat. 

The entire Double Life server has joined Hels. Which means they’re probably up by the portal right now, wandering around and looking for him in a dangerous world they’re entirely unfamiliar with, full of hostile mobs, hidden traps, and certain ruthless scientists who’d love to add a few hybrids to their collection.

Shit.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player types furiously on a communicator.

“No,” Atlas calls over his shoulder distractedly, “they won’t be at world spawn. Get me the last coordinates searched by Alisker’s mercenaries, we’ll start from there.”

“Yes, sir,” the scientist says quickly before rushing off.

It’s only been a few minutes since Atlas was alerted to Tango’s arrival in chat- him and one other player. The avian, he thinks. Obviously, this development necessitated that they drop everything and immediately pivot towards an effort to recapture Tango. Amidst giving orders to prepare the flying machines and gather weapons and armor, he’s been frantically trying to reach Alisker via whispers- without looking like he’s too desperate, of course, but he knows that having Alisker’s support in this endeavor will be critical to its success.

All the while, part of his mind is dedicated to puzzling out Tango’s motive.

He had a feeling they’d return to Hels eventually, to try and get the key for Tango’s collar from him. No doubt Tango’s finding its properties rather disruptive to normal life. The only question was whether or not Alisker’s mercenaries would find Bravo before then, allowing them to open a new portal and strike first. The latter option would’ve certainly been ideal, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. He’s confident they’ll succeed this way, too.

(Failure isn’t an option. Not again.)

What’s most confusing, however, is that Tango seems to have come without any real backup. The other players from his world were quite formidable as a group; Tango must know that leaving them behind will considerably lower his chances of success. So perhaps he doesn’t intend to confront Atlas at all, and is simply content to live with the collar. After all, he’s still wearing the cuffs, all these years later.

The only way to open a portal to Hels- that they know of, at least- is by using a player’s data to lock onto their counterpart’s coordinates. So Tango must’ve opened a portal to Bravo. Perhaps that’s all his goal is- an attempt to make amends with his doppelgänger and provide an escape from Hels. If that’s the case, then they’re working with a limited time frame.

Because if Bravo leaves Hels with Tango, then Atlas is truly out of viable options. All he’ll be able to do is open random portals to any of Hels Tek’s counterparts in the overworld, giving them access to random worlds that Tango is highly unlikely to inhabit. That won’t satisfy Alisker, and Atlas is already on thin ice as it is. No, they need to move now if they have any chance of-

Chat is suddenly jumping with join messages, and some very familiar usernames.

Ah, there’s the rest of them.

Atlas’s runaway train of thought screeches to a halt. If the other members of that world are here now, then it seems like they’ll be going for the key, after all. Which means he can breathe again. They’ve got a difficult conflict ahead of them, sure, but he rather likes their chances here in Hels. And he’s got a much better idea of what they’re up against this time- they won’t be defeated again so easily.

Oh, and Alisker’s finally returned his message. Yes, things are shaping up quite nicely, indeed.

Atlas quickly makes the arrangements, rising from his chair and heading out of his office. The halls of Hels Tek are bustling with activity as everyone scrambles to get ready. Anticipation bubbles in Atlas’s chest. This is his last chance to be victorious; he won’t rest until Tango is locked back in that farm. And, if he plays this right, he’ll have several new additions to his hybrid-farming initiative as well. Already his mind is racing with ideas..

The minutes pass in a blur. Atlas is standing before the flying machines and barking orders, his voice echoing off the garage’s high ceiling, when his communicator beeps again. He glances down, expecting to see another message from Alisker, and draws up short.

Grian tried to swim in lava.

PearlescentMoon tried to swim in lava.

InTheLittleWood tried to swim in lava.

impulseSV tried to swim in lava.

Smajor1995 tried to swim in lava. 

Etho tried to swim in lava.

ZombieCleo tried to swim in lava.

bigbst4tz2 tried to swim in lava.

Smallishbeans tried to swim in lava.

GoodTimeWithScar tried to swim in lava.

BdoubleO100 tried to swim in lava.

Renthedog tried to swim in lava.

Atlas blinks in surprise. The messages are almost simultaneous; a massive die-off like this can’t be anything other than a trap. How curious...  he knows Bravo is rather fond of setting traps, as Alisker’s mercenaries have discovered firsthand. And if the portal they came through was spawned near Bravo’s location… perhaps this was accidental friendly fire?

Another message flashes.

SolidarityGaming was slain by Bravo.

Oh. Nevermind.

Atlas watches chat with bated breath. It hasn’t escaped his notice that, as of right now, Tango is still alive. And if his hunch is correct…

<Bravo whispered to you> hey. I’ve got an offer for you.

Atlas grins.

~*~

[evieelyzabethh]

Hey can u do a spike smut

I have another Spike smut fic coming so I'm gonna use this to drop my sfw and nsfw Spike headcannons because fun fact, the buffy brain rot is real and I have over 100 pages of buffy reboot material. anyways...

warning: not proofread

sfw:

Spike purely smokes because he thinks it makes him look cool. I think when it comes to vampires, they either physically cannot feel the effects of drugs or are lightweights. He hates the smell of smoke, hence the duster jacket, and refuses to smoke in his crypt because of the shit ventilation

Speaking of smoking, William was most definitely asthmatic. He had no friends in boys school because too much physical movement sent him wheezing. He did enjoy horseback riding though

He has poetry stashed somewhere, I just know it. Under some slab of rock or rolled in some random alcohol bottle pirate style, it's somewhere.

Spike would love an English major or anyone who has a hobby aligned with creative writing. This doesn't mean he'd automatically show you anything he's written but he'd be more open to the possibility sooner rather than later.

Very picky with what he steals/wears. He will not just put any old rags on. He dressed Drusilla and he is a fashion icon and I stand by that

As for him with a partner, I do think he is the type to fall first and incredibly hard

I think how familiar you are with one another would dictate a lot. If you were a Scooby, I wouldn't say he'd keep his distance, but he wouldn't be super outright with his affection. There'd be some playful banter here and there, dare I say some flirting, and maybe even some gift-giving every now and again. He's like a crow, he'd be the type to drop things on your windowsill just because it reminded him of you

If you two didn't know each other, he'd most definitely be the stalking type. Every time you're walking home from school, there WILL be a dark figure following you around. You're getting harassed by some rando? If you paid attention to the newspaper, you'd see they mysteriously went missing. You can go from eyeing something while window shopping to it magically ending up on your doorstep

Never the one to make the first move. He wouldn't say a word unless he was 100% confident that you liked him back, and even then, there'd be a lot of hesitation

He would love a forward partner. Someone who makes his insecurities melt away and who he doesn't have to worry about them ever getting over him. When he loves, he loves forever. He has all of time to love you and his ideal partner would be someone who wants to spend all of time with him

He is such a romantic!!! I think he would be so into matching couples costumes or just matching outfits in general. Super into domesticity wherever he can get it, decorating a home together, cleaning together, cooking together, doing anything together

Since he can't have a job, I do see him being a house husband. It gives him something to do during the day. Wears a 'kiss the cook' apron and pouts if you don't give him kisses while wearing it. I headcannon that he spent time all over Europe, including France, and had some really good pastries at some cafe that closed like 200 years ago and made it his life's mission to recreate them. The grocery bill is high but it makes him happy

Valentine's Day is his absolute favorite holiday and he makes a big deal of outdoing himself every year. Not in terms of money or extravagance, but meaning. He treats every day as a new one to know more about you. It's not enough to know your favorite color, he needs to know the exact shade, exact hue, and exact context you love it in. He knows your allergies, remembers your favorite outfits, and keeps track of your cleaning habits so he can make everything shiny and new when you forget yourself. He becomes a master of all trades to make you whatever you want exactly how you want it

He does really like Halloween, too. He's a huge fan of the Scream movies. He dislikes when horror movies try too hard. Being so used to gore, blood, and guts, he prefers a funnier, more unserious scary movie

Speaking of blood, he starts out against drinking from you. He used to only do it to kill someone, or at least with the intent to cause harm. He didn't trust himself not to get overwhelmed and hurt you. But I feel like at some point he either gets hurt on patrol or his stash gets low and you both forgot to restock and he has to. It was a very close call, and he couldn't bring himself to even look at you after the fact. He only warms up to it if it's necessary. He avoids it, but there are always slip-ups. He has bitten you during sex a few times when he got a bit too into it. He says he refuses to do it unless it's for your pleasure

He is so obsessed with you, if you couldn't tell. You're his favorite person, favorite scent, favorite taste. Not to be slightly yandere on main, but he would kill for you and kill himself if he wasn't enough for you. Never leave you. Never hurt you. Spike would never.

nsfw:

He is neither an ass or tits guy, he's just a 'you' guy. Absolutely everything about you gets him going. You think it's funny at first until you're trying to eat a bowl of spaghetti and he's staring at you, hard. It's not his fault the stray sauce around your lips looked like blood and vampire you is a very hot concept to him

You guys have to own a house. The noise complaints would be too much and you'd get evicted. I do see him as more of a groaner than a moaner, but sometimes it's just too much and it's both. Sometimes it's just one hand gripping the pillow your head is resting on, the other on the headboard, and his head in the crook of your neck practically whimpering as you milk his cock

You also have a tendency to get pretty loud, and as much as he loves your voice, his super vampire hearing can't take it sometimes :(

Doesn't really matter the position, but it's hard and he's so big. You can feel him in your damn ribs and it's choking you up. You don't even realize how loud you are. It's not until you hear his raspy voice in your ear. "I know, love, I know. It's a lot, but I need you to be a bit quieter. You're hurting me." And you pout a bit and try to mumble apologies that just sound like gibberish. You try, futilely, but surely he must understand that you can't help it. Not when it's this good. He whispers again, rubs where your belly bulges from his dick, but it doesn't seem to work. He eventually flips you over to shove your head in the pillows and you were far too out of it to complain. You like it a bit rough anyway.

As mentioned previously, he is a biter. He can't help it, it's instinct honestly. Its not like you mind, you clench even harder when he does. The sudden smell of iron is drowned out by the stench of sex and sweat, and the piercing feel of his fangs into your neck only stings for a bit. He makes up for it by licking up whatever spills <3 Being with a vampire was always going to be at least a little painful

He likes his hair pulled. You're fingers in his hair in general is heaven on earth, but being pulled around a bit is nice

Has a thing for tearing your clothes off. He really does like being a vampire, feeling big and strong in a way he was never able to when he was human. There is a feral piece of him, maybe its the demon inside him or it was always present, but seeing your clothes in pieces after the fact just scratches the itch in his brain

Speaking of brain, enjoys giving and receiving head equally. Being absolutely obsessed with you, and very secretly obsessed with the taste of your blood, he could die happily with your cum on his lips. Between your legs is his favorite place for real. As for receiving, it's his favorite way of shutting you up in any scenario.

Bruises. Everywhere. Hickeys. Everywhere. He's possessive but not exactly an exhibitionist, they end up along your collarbones and your thighs. Places where they can easily be hidden or revealed

Plays old music because he's old. He refuses to use modern technology because he likes his old as dirt aesthetic but definitely plays sexy orchestral music. I simply do not believe him to be an RnB kinda guy

He likes seeing you in his clothes after!! Going back to the whole love for domesticity thing, it just feels right. He's, shockingly, not always a horny fuck in the morning. Sometimes it feels more right to just look at you, the pretty after sex glow on your face, your messy hair, your cheeks pressed into the pillow. If you get up before him and put on what he had on the night before, it just completes the picture.

When he is a horny fuck in the morning, it's still just as soft and slow as the non-sexual mornings. He likes to be the big spoon simply because it's easier to slide his dick between your thighs and hold your tits at the same time

[lovelyjj]

Hey! Could u do a jj x sisterreader JJ comforts his sister after she relap$ed

Relapse

jj maybank x sister!reader

warnings: mentions of self harm (please do not read if this can be harmful or triggering for you)

i hope this is okay

JJ was a good brother. He was always there for you and you loved him for it. This however what you were going through you don’t think he could help you with. You were in bad shape and you didn’t know how to get yourself out.

You were doing so good for so long you don’t know what happened. You relapsed and you were embarrassed about it. What kind of wimp doesn’t stay strong. Things weren’t going so good. Your mental health was at an all time low. You started cutting again and you had thoughts about hurting yourself frequently.

There wasn’t many things that could cheer you up or make things better. You were stuck. You hated yourself for your choices and you just wanted everything to stop. You were mad at yourself for relapsing and you felt like you deserved the pain. You were almost numb.

Luke was home. This being the worst thing to have happen. He was yelling at you. You were in your room, with the door locked and he was saying things like “you are a worthless piece of shit.” He hit you too but you managed to escape to your room.

JJ came home and he saw his dad passed out on the couch. He had a bad feeling. He went to go check on you. “Y/N/N, it’s me, open the door please.”

“Go away JJ,” you sniffled.

“Y/N, please.”

You unlocked the door and JJ entered. Your arms were behind your back. “Are you ok?” JJ asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“I mean he hit me but nothing I can’t handle.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

You reached your hand out to stop him and JJ’s eyes widened when he saw your wrists. They were bloody with fresh cuts on them.

“What did you do?” JJ frowned.

“JJ please don’t-“

“Y/N, let’s get out of here, please come with me.”

After JJ attended to your cuts he took you on his bike away from the traumatic household.

JJ took you to the beach. He wanted you to feel safe and he wanted to comfort you. He thought you would enjoy hearing the crashing of the waves.

The two of you sat down on the sand and watched the water. This is where you broke down and cried. It broke JJ’s heart. He put his arm around you and told you “It’s ok Y/N, i’m here for you. You are not alone.”

“I’m sorry I just- It gets to be all too much sometimes,” you sniffled.

“I know and I shouldn’t have left you alone with him I feel terrible. I didn’t know he was coming home.”

“It’s not your fault we have a shitty dad.”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore,” JJ began.

“I was doing so good I don’t know what happened,” you replied.

“Please Y/N, I’m serious.” JJ warned.

“I know you are.”

“I care about you so much. It physically pains me that you do that to yourself,” JJ cringed.

“If you ever need to talk please know i’m here for you,” JJ continued.

“It’s just sometimes I get in my own head and I feel so alone and I just can’t control how I feel. I feel so bad I get the urge to hurt myself over and over.”

“What can I do to help?” JJ asked.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do.” You sadly stated.

“There has to be something.”

“Well you could switch brains with me so I don’t have to deal with my thoughts.”

“Ok i’m down.” JJ laughed.

“I really appreciate you, you’re such a good brother,” you complimented.

Maybe things won’t be so bad as long as you have JJ by your side. Things don’t seem that bad anymore because you have a brother that would give you an arm and a leg if he could.

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Dad's not home | Modern!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader x Stepdad!Jim Hopper

Summary: You've been dating Eddie for months now and he's grown very fond of someone from your own family... Luckily, they both share the same love for you 🩷

Cw: 18+, Stepcest, pansexual!Eddie, slut!Eddie, stepdad!Hopper, talk of beefy Hopper, lots of dirty talk, cheating, threesome, anal sex, unprotected p in v, 2 guys 1 girl, masturbation (male receiving), excessive cumming Eddie, nipple play, little angst with happy ending, plot twist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You loved Eddie very much, so so much you let him do anything he wanted, you never ever questioned him or even felt jealous of him, he was the perfect boyfriend and you were the perfect partner for him

So due to this unbreakable trust you had on him, you never expected what was going to come...

You were home alone at the cabin you lived in with your stepdad, your mother had passed a few years ago and having nowhere else to live, you decided to stay with him, being the chief of police and a genuinely nice man you trusted him and he made great company and food

But one thing he didn't like were visits, he knew Eddie, having arrested him multiple times for speeding or drug dealing, he didn't expect you to date him and he didn't like him at his house one bit, so you had to be sort of sneaky when you wanted him to come over either to hang out or fuck your brains out

So here you were in bed, texting your boyfriend to invite him over, feeling particularly needy of his dick

Hey babe

My step dad's not home ;)

I know

That threw you off guard, what does he mean he knows?

Wdym you know??

He realized his mistake, quickly texting back an answer

I mean, idk it's a tuesday at night, he's probably working right?

"Hmmm, that was weird, but okay" oh poor naive you, believing his reply you texted again

Yeah you're right

Wanna come over? ;)

"Shit" Said Eddie thinking of an excuse you would believe, but, you would believe anything he told you anyway

Sorry babe can't do, I'm helping Wayne fix his truck

"Damnit" you said to yourself when you read his text, he was once again busy to not come over

K, love u

Love u too

"Good boy, and she doesn't even suspect a thing huh? Such a shame she trusts you so much, won't ever see it coming" Hopper's voice spoke into Eddie's ear

Truth was, Eddie did know where your step dad was, because he was currently at a motel with him, getting his ass pounded by the older man

"Shit, please just stop talking and fuck me"

"Bratty tonight are we? I'll fuck the attitude out of you" Said the older man grabbing onto Eddie's waist and starting to really ram into him, making the younger one gasp and moan as his eyes rolled back, phone discarded somewhere on the creaking bed

Oh poor naive you...

Next time something weird happened was when you and Eddie were at his place watching a movie, said movie was not of your interest as you were jerking off your boyfriend under the blanket you had on your laps, suddenly you felt him twitch and he groaned particularly loud, you looked at the screen and a beefy dad bod man was on the screen, you could see his body jiggle as he walked and he looked damp with water or sweat, you failed to notice how Eddie bit his lip and came all over your hand unexpectedly

"What? So soon Ed's?"

"Shit s-sorry, I just-" he scrambled over his words "I just, have been really needy for you babe" he lied to your face so easily now, reality was that he was reminded of those nights he got fucked by your step dad when he saw that man who had a similar body complex as his forbidden lover "Sorry babe, lemme make it up to you, m'kay?"

You couldn't say no to that...

But the last straw was when he kept on denying you again, and again, and again, always coming up with lame excuses you were starting to get tired of

"I have a very important deal to get to"

"Sorry babe, I don't feel so good tonight"

"Babe, my van has a flat tire"

"Sorry babe, I have explosive diarrhea"

"I AM DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT!" You had enough of this game, so you set out on a plan to finally know what Eddie was up to instead of being with you

You started following him, his van was driving outside of town and into a secluded area, that's when you saw the sign of a motel down the road, your stomach sank when you realized where this was going

You parked far away from his van and saw him get out, look around and then stand outside it, smoking a cigarette as he seemed to be waiting for someone, maybe the girl he was cheating on you with

Another car was pulling in, and you swear you got whiplash, it was your step dad's police car pulling in, he parked next to Eddie's van and got off, rounding the vehicle to come over to your boyfriend and they started making out furiously, you felt like you could pass out from the betrayal, your boyfriend and your step dad?! Really?! You knew Eddie sometimes would ogle men like when Steve was wearing those tiny basketball shorts one day but to fuck your step dad?! This is a whole new level of low

You watched them go into a room so you decided to strike then, quickly jogging to the door and knocking on it

Inside the two men separated from their kiss and eyed the door, not expecting anyone to knock or even know who they were to begin with...

Hopper reluctantly got up to open the door and was met with a very you standing there, in pure reflex he closed the door cutting you off when you opened your mouth to yell at him

"Who is it?" Eddie asked sitting up on the bed

"Uhm... You might wanna cover your ears"

He opened the door again and you started yelling your heart out

"HOW DARE YOU?! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU FUCK MY BOYFRIEND?! HE'S MINE!!"

"Y/n?!" Eddie said as he heard you, you stormed into the room pushing Hopper away and coming to yank Eddie's hair "Not the hair! Not the hair!"

"YOU'RE A FUCKING WHORE MUNSON!"

"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry" you had begun to strangle him with his own hair, wrapping it around his throat and he kept on smacking your arms to release him

"Okay that's enough baby" Hopper said grabbing you away from Eddie who grabbed his throat in pain "We're not the only ones wrong here"

"She was strangling me" Eddie said out of air

"NO LEMME GO! I'M GONNA KILL HIM!" You trashed around in Hopper's arms but he just chuckled

"Okay settle down, you're not a saint yourself baby"

"What? What do you mean?" Eddie asked from the floor

"I mean that, Y/n has been a bad girl for her daddy, right baby?"

That's when it clicked for Eddie, and he smiled triumphantly

"Aha! You're a whore also! You've been fucking Hopper too!" He said pointing at you

"Yeah and he was supposed to be only mine!"

"Well, I guess he likes guys too, right daddy?" Eddie said talking to Hopper, to which he chuckled again

"Okay okay, there's enough for the two of you, we can share if you want to?"

So that's how you ended up sandwiched between both men, back facing Hopper and he grinded against your ass while he made you and Eddie make out, hands roaming each other's bodies, you felt yourself being lifted and you knew it was your step dad making space for him to fuck you in the ass, having better access to your tits Eddie wasted no time in latching onto one and nursing on it while also looking to enter your pussy

"Fuck daddy, fuck me please"

"Already on it princess" Hopper said as he je started to fuck your ass, while Eddie followed behind on fucking your pussy, wrapping your legs around Eddie's waist as you were being held by Hopper

"Fuck, I'm so close, gonna cum, fuck gonna cum!" You moaned as both men kissed your shoulders, neck, back and chest and then each other over your frame

"Cum baby, lemme feel it" Eddie said ramming into your pussy as Hopper kept on destroying your ass

With one loud shriek you came all over Eddie as he pumped his cum into you, what you loved of him was how much he came all the time, he would literally bulge your stomach from how much he came inside you, meanwhile Hopper emptied out in your ass

"Your turn Eddie boy"

"Yessir"

Now on your back with your legs wide open, Eddie on all four's eating you out while Hopper fucked him from behind, it was beautiful sight to see, how good Eddie took Hopper's 9 incher in his ass and how it brushed against his prostate every time he moved, and how his tongue was fucking your pussy along with Hopper's rythm was all too much and too good all over

"Fuck, fuck!" Eddie moaned into your pussy as he neared his peak, cock twitching as he prepared to cum again

"Cum Eddie, cum all over yourself Ed's, such a good boy" you praised him as his eyes rolled back and he came all over the bed, he thrusted two fingers in you as he sucked hard on your clit to make you cum too, your eyes rolled back as you reached your orgasm along with Hopper who was cumming in Eddie's ass

"Fuck... This was so good" Hopper said out of breath pulled out of your boyfriend's ass

"Too good..." You said as Eddie fell on you and you kissed his head "I'm sorry for cheating on you first"

"It's okay, at least we cheated with the same hot guy" Eddie yelped when he received a slap on the ass from Hopper

"Behave you two, or I'll punish you both"

You looked at Eddie and smiled at each other, wanting to tease Hopper some more

Guess it didn't end that bad after all...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging my friendo @ali-r3n for supporting this nasty idea 💜

[peachhcs]

home opener

so high school au (emma grace x gabe perreault)

gabe has pre game jitters hours before his second year’s sold out home opener

wc: 1.7k

WOW! look who finally updated this au! i made this kind of sappy lowkey but guys i promise i won’t abandon this again. send in any requests u have!

au masterlist

the first game back of the new season was always the most nerve racking game, especially with how well the boys did last season. they had a lot to live up to with the expectations that they'd win the championships in march. the conte forum completely sold out for the night meaning the boys would have a majority of the bc student body's eyes on them.

gabe was normally never this nervous for a game considering all the ones he's played in so far, but something was picking away at his brain. he hardly focused all morning during class, mind always wandering and rerunning the plays in his head to pick away at everything he needed to work on. when he made it to the rink hours before puck drop his teammates even started noticing the forward's unusual silence. 

"hey, you okay?" ryan lowered his voice while him and gabe sat in the locker room rolling out. his friend's gaze slid over to him, nodding.

"yeah, fine. why?" 

"you just seem quieter than usual," the brunette pointed out with a small shrug like he didn't want to push it. 

"oh. sorry. just thinking is all," the hockey player mumbled and brushed ryan's concern off. 

ryan stared at gabe for another quick seconded before letting it go as well. he wasn't one to poke into his friends if they didn't want to talk, but he wasn't still slightly concerned. he's never known gabe to be this quiet before a game, so when the taller boy left the room, ryan dug his phone out.

ryan leonard 

hey idk what ur doing rn but u should 

come down to the rink. 

emma cooper 

is everything okay? 

ryan leonard 

i think so. gabe's just in some sort of funk

and i was wondering if he'd talk to u more

he won't talk to me

emma cooper

now that u say that i noticed it this morning 

too

i'll be there in 15 

if there was one person who could get to gabe besides ryan and will, it was emma. she was the only other person the boy opened up to and even then it wasn't something that happened often, but if gabe wouldn't talk to ryan, he wanted to hope he'd talk to his girlfriend. 

like every pre-game ritual, gabe found an empty seat in the stands to sit with his thoughts and stare out at the rink, envisioning himself and his teammates out there with the student body yelling absurdities at the other team. sitting up in the stands really helped him visualize the things he wanted to make happen tonight and remember how lucky he was to be there in the first place. the conte was a beautiful arena and the hockey player couldn't be more grateful to be a part of the history happening. 

emma got to the rink 15 minutes on the dot. she walked around the outer circle, her eyes scanning into the stands for her boyfriend. she finally found him in his usual section near the middle. his legs were propped over the seat in front of him and he just looked so peaceful sitting there, the girl wondered what was running through his mind that made him so quiet. 

she dropped her backpack near the top of the seats before quietly descending down the steps to where he was. there were a few other guys skating around the ice to just get some laps in and warm up their bodies a bit more before actual warmups. emma shuffled her way into gabe's row where he finally caught her gaze, a look of surprise on his features. 

"what are you doing here so early?" he smiled nonetheless as she sat down next to him.

"class got out early so i wanted to come by," it wasn't a complete lie. emma's class did get out early 30 minutes ago, but she knew when she wanted gabe to open up to her that she couldn't just jump right into it. she needed to get him talking and then he would eventually start saying what was on his mind.

"lucky you," his hand slipped over her knee where he gave it a gentle squeeze. her own hand cupped his, slowly intertwining their fingers. 

"i figured you'd be out here. hopefully i'm not interrupting your pre-game rituals," emma smiled a bit and gabe shook his head.

"you're not, i'm glad you're here. how's your day been so far?" having her here was actually a good distraction for gabe because sometimes he tended to get into his own head before he game, especially this one. 

"pretty good. after i saw you this morning, i met up with morgan and we studied some before going to class. i got lunch with her and lindsey and then i had my second class and now i'm here," this was gabe's favorite part. he loved hearing about emma's day and catching up on the things he missed while they were apart. 

"sounds exciting. are morgan and lindsey coming later?" 

"morgan might be, but tyler is. he's been looking forward to opening night for like months," the two shared a laugh.

"i've heard. he's told me every time he's seen me how excited he is," a grin painted the boy's lips. he always loved how supportive emma and tyler were and tried showing up to every home game. 

"don't even get me started. all he's been talking about is hockey and swimming to me," emma chuckled again, shifting further into her seat so she could find a spot for her head on gabe's shoulder. the boy leaned his head onto hers, his little curls tickling the top of her forehead.

"so how are you feeling?" emma began her slight prying. gabe shrugged beneath her head. 

"okay," he was brief which she expected. 

"are you nervous at all?" 

the boy hesitated for a moment like he was debating on telling the truth. it wasn't that he didn't want to open up to her, he's just never really opened up about things before until last year when they started dating, so this was all very new territory for the darker-haired boy. although, emma did make it easy and he's never felt more comfortable opening up to her when he did find the courage. 

"kind of," he finally admitted. 

"that's okay. it is the first game back," the blonde hummed. 

"i think that's why i'm nervous. it just feels like a lot of pressure, you know? we have a lot to live up to this year," gabe continued his thoughts, slowly opening up what's been picking a part his brain for the last few hours. 

"yeah, i think i get it. don't be too hard on yourself though. you're gonna play great this season," emma lifted her head so she could see gabe's face. the two exchanged a glance and he mustered his best smile.

"yeah, i know. just nervous, but i'll be fine. i guess it's also because we're playing without will and not saying oskar isn't a great player, he's phenomenal, it will just be different. it sounds stupid," the boy quickly shook his head, worried he sounded pathetic that he was missing his friend and the line they all had. 

emma quickly frowned for a second realizing they finally hit the true reason gabe's been so quiet and spacey. she curled her arm around his, resting her chin on his shoulder. 

"hey, it's not stupid, p. it's the first time you guys aren't playing together since you were like 16. that's a lot. it's normal to feel weird about it," emma quickly reassured her boyfriend who flushed. 

"i guess i just wish the last time we all played together was actually gonna be the last time. we all thought we'd have another year together at least," the boy continued with a small frown. 

"have you called him at all? i'm sure he'd appreciate hearing from you guys. maybe it will help ease some of your nerves," the girl suggested because whenever her brother was nervous about his swim meet, he'd their parents and it'd instantly make him feel better.

"yeah, maybe i will."

"it could help. it's not stupid to miss your best friend, gabe, but i know you guys are gonna do really well tonight. i'll be here too," her words made him smile as he quickly leaned over to place a gentle kiss to her head. 

"thank you, sorry i was so weird about it. i'm still working on this whole opening up thing," he grimaced, but emma quickly shook her head.

"don't apologize, p. you're doing really great. i love you. i'm gonna run back to my place to change, but i'll see you at the game. do you need anything else?" the blonde wondered as she sat up, gabe quickly missing the feeling of her so close to him. 

"i don't think so, i love you too. hurry back, i wanna see you before we go on," he squeezed her hand, reluctantly letting it go for now. she blew him a big kiss. 

"i will," with that, emma hurried back up the stairs to grab her backup and rush back to her apartment. 

feeling a lot better than before, gabe got himself up and headed back into the locker room. ryan was still at his stall doing some of his tape job. he eyed his friend as he passed. 

"doing okay?" the brunette asked again. this time gabe had a more confident nod.

"yeah, i am. i was thinking about calling will before the game? would you wanna talk to him?" the darker-haired boy fished for his phone in his backpack. ryan quickly smiled.

"for sure. i'll always talk to smitty," he got up to sit closer while gabe pressed the call button. 

the line connected a moment later, "hey!" will's voice cheered. 

gabe quickly smiled, the weight lifting off his shoulders as the three friends caught themselves up and the other bc boys occasionally chimed in with their own hellos to will and expressed how much they missed him. 

will echoed their sentiments and promised he was gonna watch the game in a few hours. 

he must've been their lucky charm because boston won the game 4-2 in the home opener, already setting the precedent for the rest of the exciting season.

[cloudsmateria]

college roommate - leon kennedy x reader

nerdy!reader x leon kennedy

synopsis: you and leon have just started university, finding yourself in the same university visit, he comes and visits your dorm as he's been struggling in his classes. you kick it off, and you invite each other into your different, interesting lives.

words: like 4500

disclaimer: this isn't proof-read and i actually do need to proofread it and i will when i finish it, this also isn't finished. so if u don't wanna read it now and wanna come back to it when it's pristine and complete be my guest, the edit of this will be very edited like literally whole chunks of texts will be different, i just wanted to post something

content warning: kissing, bit of angst, slight smut/almost smut, sexual themes

A loud knock rings through your door, if it had come even a second later you wouldn’t have heard it at all as you were on a one-way path to passing out on top of your notes. 

“Come in.” You mumble, picking your head up off of the desk and watching as a dirt-blonde hunk of a boy you don’t recognise comes through. Maybe it’s one of the frat boys trying to get to know all the girls in his dorm house. 

“Hey. Can I ask a favour?”

“Who are you?”

"I'm Leon, I saw you in my engineering lecture the other day and you looked like you understood what was going on. Then I found out you were in my university building. So here, I am. Help. Please. I’m going to fail and we’re only 3 weeks in." His desperation makes you laugh, something you were shocked you could do in this dazed state after a mind-boggling 8 hours of completing work.

"Oh Leon, I'd love to but I think if I even think about that engineering class for another second right now I might actually drop down and die."

"It can wait, you busy right now? Other than you know, spilling drool all over your papers?”

“Yeah, I was just about to go spill some on my pillow too, I'm exhausted." You say, not entirely joking, and begin to gather your things.

“I get it.”

“We have another engineering lecture tomorrow anyway so you can just catch me then."

"You sure, though? I mean I'm already here." He shrugs and picks up a book from her bookshelf. "How do you read any of these? There are no pictures." You laugh again. 

"You're asking me how I read physics books when you take engineering… Are you sure you picked the right course? You know, you can read it if you want, and would probably benefit from it. If you can even read."

"No thanks, I'll just get you to teach it to me tomrrow. I’ll see you in a bit, Einstein.” 

"You should watch what you call me if you want me to tutor you, that’s usually not free."

"Oh, but the thing is I don't think you're actually going to make me pay for anything. You're too nice for that."

"That's a very bold statement to make to a stranger."

"You'll come round eventually."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Can I just ask you another question? I'm not going to stop annoying you until you answer it the way I want you to."

"Go on." You sigh.

"Have you eaten today? Cause I haven't and I'm hungry."

"Leon-"

"Please."

"Okay, okay, God, you're persistent. Gonna give me a headache." You groan and sit up.

"It’s worth it, you'll need me to keep you sane later in the year."

"Oh really? You think we’re gonna stay friends that long?"

"I know you've got your nerdy brain, but I've been told I have a great personality." You can't tell if he's implying something with that disgustingly stupid joke or if he really is just an idiot. To be fair, he's funny and managed to pull you out your the room you had been hibernating in for the past few days to get ahead of work. You suppose there are worse people you could be forced to talk to.

"Whatever. Just get out of here." You push him towards the door.

"You're not going to eat with me?" You roll your eyes and lock the door, getting dressed into something that wasn't your pyjamas.

…

Now here you were, eating outside with this boy from your lectures when you had just wanted to be at home sleeping. Although it was nicer than you thought it would be, he had insisted on buying you an energy drink to keep your eyes open as you were eating in some random burger shop.

"How come you're struggling?" 

"Been going to too many parties, I've got different priorities."

"..."

"What?" He says defensively.

"Don't make me slap you. You can't be stupid because you got into this university, you're wasting your potential."

"I am not!"

"You're struggling! We're only 3 weeks in! I mean, come on, Leon."

"I don't understand what your problem is, maybe you need to live a little."

"That is rich coming from you. You're going to peak in college and fuck up the rest of your life if you ruin your chance now. And I live fine right now, I go out often enough and put the rest of my time toward my course, like a responsible human being."

"So you're boring?"

"So you're an idiot and can't plan for the future?"

"No, I'm not." He smirks. "And also, I never said I couldn't plan for the future, just that it isn't the only thing I want to focus on."

"Okay, fine, that's it. This is your problem, I'm not tutoring you."

"Got under your skin?" He smiles.

"I'm serious. You're smart if you got into this school, but you're wasting your talent partying and sleeping around."

“You’ve only known me for 20 minutes and you’ve managed to start an argument.”

“I just don’t want to waste my time. If you want me to help with assignments you need to make an effort, and if you want to be my friend, you’re also going to need to make an effort because I’m not going to care about someone who can’t even care about themselves.”

"I care about myself. Why else would I come to you for help on this?"

"Because you can't do it yourself and your friends are too stupid to ask them for help."

"No... Well... Okay fine, yeah that sounds pretty accurate. But in all honesty, I do care about my grade, that's why I'm coming to you. Now you know my intentions, I beg talk about something else, this entire conversation is reminding me of my mom."

"Like what?"

"Like, there's a party next Saturday, and I think you should come with me. You’re pretty entertaining."

"Oh, Leon. You're so clueless, it's pitiful."

"You have to go to the party, it will be fun."

"I have been to parties, I've gone to 2 since the start of the semester. But we have assignments to work on this week."

"One more little party isn't going to kill you. It'll be good, and then we can do the work."

"That's a very backward mindset." 

"You'll thank me, trust me."

"You say the reason you’re struggling is because you’re going to many parties, and immediately proceed to invite me to a party." You shake your head and laugh. “You are something else.”

“So are you coming?”

“I’ll think about it.”

… 

You and Leon had been going to the lectures together ever since, having lunch at points when he wasn’t hoarded by his friends and even managing a few study sessions into his schedule. You came 5 minutes early for the engineering lecture the next day. Flipping through the textbook notes to top up on your pre-reading beforehand, you had right at the back as Leon begged you to over text the previous night to sit there rather than the front so he’d feel comfortable sitting next to you. It doesn't take long for people to start filtering in, and eventually, that blonde-headed boy pops up next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder immediately. 

"Didn't get enough sleep last night." He mutters.

"Up studying?"

"You know me so well." 

“I'm not even going to ask what you were doing." You sigh, fully believing he had either gone clubbing or to another party last night.

"I promise you, I was studying. And you can ask me all the questions you want, I'll try my best to answer. I did go a little off track and I'm not doing well at it but your inspirational speech convinced me to try a bit."

"Really?" You ask excitedly, looking down at him. "Leon, that's great!" You feel his cheeks crease into a smile against your shoulder at your enthusiasm.

"You're more excited about it than I am, that's cute." He chuckles. "Keep talking, my head hurts, your voice helps."

"The lecture starts soon."

"Don't care." 

"I’m not going to talk over the lecturer." You say, flicking his forehead.

"It's just a lot, okay? I'm trying my best, but I might have reached my full capacity last night." He sits up and sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Welcome to university."

"Yeah, whatever. Can we go back to your room after?"

"Sure."

"Thank you."

"Of course." 

The professor finally steps into the lecture hall, and everyone quiets down, preparing for the lesson.

Halfway through, Leon couldn't help but pass out on you again. Your body went rigid, trying to make sure his head wouldn't fall off your shoulder. You pick the paper off of his desk, dragging it toward you as you start to write notes on your own and his paper so he won't miss out on anything.

He's surprisingly cute when he's not cracking annoying jokes and snapping back with snarky remarks. He was even making you lose track of the lecture a bit.

After class, you wake him up and walk him back to your dorm with him, chatting and catching him up on what he missed briefly. When you think about it, you're surprised you only met him yesterday. He feels like someone you've known since secondary school, or maybe he just treats everyone this way. Either way, you wouldn't complain about spending time with him.

"So, we're alone. What do we do?"

"Study?" You say, throwing him a pencil and paper. "Don't ask me stupid questions like that again."

"Come on, we just got out of an hour lecture, we basically already studied."

"A lecture that you slept for half of-"

"And that you caught me up on after."

"We need to make up the time. Now come on, let's work."

"But-"

"Now, Leon."

"Ugh."

…

The next hour wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be, you could still get your work done while simultaneously teaching Leon that content he missed out on. His demeanour quickly became enthusiastic when he saw how proud you were when you understood a concept, and you were genuinely impressed, he caught onto things quickly. After an hour, you both took a break sitting on your bed, him replying to some messages on his phone.

"Hey." You say, poking his arm to draw his attention.

"What?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Making the effort to try, even if it is just a little bit."

"You're definitely making more effort than me." He smiles, leaning his head on your shoulder again.

"If you want to sleep you should just go home, you must be exhausted."

"I'm not leaving you in this depressing room, I'm keeping you company."

"I’m not keeping you from anything? Your phone was blowing up a second ago I assume you have somewhere to be."

"They can wait, I want to stay around for a bit longer. I like the change for once."

"Change?"

"It's quiet, I can think for once. You’re different from the people I’m around smart and stubborn,”

“So you’re aware of the poor choice of people you hang around, you had me fooled for a while.”

“Wait I’m not done, and even after all of that, I can tell that you're a little shy which is adorable. Oh, and my favourite part is how easy you are to annoy."

"I am not."

"You're blushing right now, I can feel your cheek getting hot. Adorable."

"Don’t you even close your mouth?"

"You know I can't, come on, it's not like you mind."

"Oh my god."

"Admit it, I'm fun to be around."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Tell me what you think of me."

"What?"

"Tell me, come on. Please, I'm dying for validation."

"Well. You're nice, and I've never seen you without a smile on your face, it's refreshing.”

“A little more… I know you got it in you.”

“You're not as stupid as you make yourself out to be,. And I honestly can't tell if I'm special or if you treat everyone else this way because you make me feel way more important than I really would be for someone like you."

"You're special, trust me. And that's a stupid question to ask. Do you want a list of the people I've met? The people I’ve made friends with?"

"What?"

"I can count on one hand the real people I've managed to keep around and one of those is my dog. Don't worry about that, because I know you’re gonna be on that list too. I know you think that I have so many friends and I'm surrounded by people all the time, but they're all fake. They're just fun for parties and clubbing when you have nothing else to do."

"But-"

"It's true." He looks at you, his expression becoming serious for the first time since you've met him. "And I've got to tell you, you're different."

"Different?"

"Yeah, you're interesting. You're not fake, and you're actually doing something with your life."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, I think you’ve just surrounded yourself with one particular type of person, and now you’re shocked when you meet someone who’s not an idiot."

"Come on, I've seen the work you've done in these past 24 hours. You were working for at least 25 of them.” 

"You know how to flatter me."

"That's another reason why you should hang out with me more."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"I'm not afraid to admit how much I like you, Einstein. Makes you feel good, doesn’t it?"

"I can't even think about what I should say to that." You say, laughing and burying your head in your hands. "God, you're a mess."

“I suppose, yeah. You’re changing that though.” He lifts your chin up to face him, smiling at your red cheeks. “See? So cute.”

"Why do you have to keep saying things like that?"

"Because you react this way." He grins.

"I hate you."

"Let me ask you something again. Are you going to go to the party on Saturday?"

"I don’t think so."

“Since I’ve got the chance, I think I can change your mind.” He smiles and pulls your face a little closer, close enough for him to feel your shallow breaths against his lips.

"I-" You can't find any words, you're stunned. He's gorgeous, and you can't deny that, but the idea of kissing him feels wrong, you can't do it. Not right now. The thought of getting with someone you're starting to have feelings for is setting off alarm bells, the alarm bells imprinted by your bad experiences from secondary school of guys playing with your emotions. No matter how much your heart is screaming you want to, your mind is screaming no. 

"You're gonna go with me right?" He whispers.

"Okay." You say hoarsely, your legs desperately pressed together.

"Good girl." He smiles, getting up and putting his shoes on. "I'll see you on Saturday." He says, before leaving.

"I'm screwed." You mutter.

… 

Saturday finally rolled around. You weren't even sure how much time you spent with Leon the day before, but you knew you wanted more.  This was starting to become a concern for you. You remember last year, when you were hurt so bad you pledged to never fall for someone again. You can't do this, not with him. You know Leon is exactly that kind of guy, he’s charming, an athlete, with too many friends for his own good, someone who has no reason to be associated with you unless he wanted something, and was patient when it came to getting it. 

And yet, here you were, wearing a simple little black dress and the heels Leon said would match. You pray that the feelings are cut off here, hopefully he sees you as just a friend and just likes to tease. But a little part of you has a sliver of hope that maybe this is real.

Leon came to pick you up from your room, as he was only a floor away. When you opened the door you were met with Leon dressed in a black bottom down with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up which definitely made you feel some kind of way.

"Leon, hi." You say, overly aware of the fabric hugging your skin, you rarely wore tight clothes. 

"Wow." His eyes were stuck to everything that wasn't your face.

"Hey! My eyes are on my face, not my chest."

"I know."

"Leon!"

"Just admiring the view." You ended up crossing your arms to try and hide a bit of your figure.

"Can you stop looking?"

"You look great, don't worry." He says.

"Whatever."

"No, I'm serious. I mean it, you look amazing. Just relax and have fun, okay?"  He puts his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "You look hot. And it's only going to get better. Just try to have a good time, I'll be by your side the whole time.”

"I've been to a party before, you don't need to baby me."

"I know it’s just this one is a big one. They always end in a mess. I've had a couple of close calls with the police."

"That's not what I'm worried about." I'm worried about what I might end up doing with you, she thinks.

"Just tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable and we can go." He smiles and leads you out of the dorm building and into the street.

"How far is it?"

"Only a few minutes away." He says, leading you along the sidewalk.

The walk wasn't too far, it was about 20 minutes of you both drinking from a wine bottle for some pre-game. Time seemed to fly by as you came to the house. Whoever was hosting this party, probably one of Leon's friends no doubt, was rich. The house was huge and the whole thing was vibrating with the music that blasted through it.

"We're here."

"I think it’s going to collapse.."

"Wait until you see inside." He grabs your hand and drags you in, the house packed. You didn't recognise anyone and felt a little intimidated as Leon led you through the crowd of people, pushing them aside. You couldn't believe there were this many students in the town.

He stops at the kitchen, handing you a drink. You hadn't gone to a party this big before, and that was voluntary, this was just too much. You drink it in one to hopefully get you drunk enough to gain a bit of confidence and hand it back to Leon for it to get refilled.

"I didn't know there were this many people here."

"There's usually a lot." He smiles, handing her another drink. "Don't worry, I'll be with you the whole night. You take a shot before starting to sip on the more tame drink Leon had gotten. 

"What do you want to do first?"

"Let’s go find some of my friends.He says, taking your hand and dragging you through the sea of people, most likely dancing, grinding, or drinking.

He pulls you into the living room, finding his friends from one of the lectures and joining in on their conversation. You're introduced and you talk with them, they're all quite funny and sweet. You were happy to have found a fun little group.

The rest of the night is spent with them, the five of you getting progressively drunker and drunker and talking about more and more stupid shit before someone suggests the group should go and dance, you immediately go and hide behind Leon. 

"Dancing is definitely not my thing." You whisper.

"You have to come."

"No way."

"Please." He says, looking into your eyes.

"Why?"

"I want you to."

"Leon."

"If you hate it, I'll make it up to you. Please." He whispers, and you sigh, giving in. "I know you'll enjoy it." He smiles and leads her by the hand into the living room where everyone is.

"Everyone's too drunk to be paying any attention anyway." He says, and the group joins in on the dance. 

After a few more drinks the alcohol started to hit.

"Isn't so bad, is it?" He says after the first few minutes, watching you find your rhythm.

"No, it's fun."

"See, told you."

"Don't let it go to your head, I'm just drunk."

He smiles, spinning you so your back is pressed against his, the two of you continue to dance. He leans down and kisses your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and grinding into you.

"Leon-"

"It's hard to control myself with you, almost kissed you that time I convinced you to come to this party, could tell you weren’t sure though."

"Because I thought we were just friends."

"That never lasts long, does it? Did you really think it was going to stay that way forever?" He says, running his hand down your thigh.

"We're drunk." You mumble, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. God, you wanted it. You were trying with everything you had to rationalise with yourself. He knew what he was doing.

"That doesn't change the fact that you're irresistible. And that's not the alcohol talking. I've been wanting to do this for a while."

 He smirks, spinning her back around to face him and lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Let's go upstairs,"

"Leon-"

"Shh." He puts a finger over her lips and leads her away, finding the stairs and walking up. “Stop doubting yourself. One thing about you is that you always say no, or doubt yourself, let’s change that for once.”

He takes you to the first room he finds, happening to be a bathroom, opening the door and stepping in, kicking it closed and locking it. He sets you down and starts to kiss you, the alcohol making it a lot more forceful than usual. You kiss back, letting him guide you and set the pace, his hands sliding over her body. 

"You're so fucking beautiful." He mutters, his lips trailing down to your neck. You feel the pressure of his hands pushing you backwards. Your back hits the counter, he lifts you up and settles himself between your thighs.

"Leon-"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure? About me?"

"Yes." He smiles, lifting his head. "Now stop doubting yourself, will you? You're too perfect for that." If you were sober, your mind would've had red lights blaring, trying to protect you, but the alcohol flattened out all thoughts. A hint of doubt crossed your mind instinctually. But his touch is so good, and he's making you feel things that you haven't in a long time.

"I-"

"Come on, tell me how much you want me."

"I really like you, Leon. It's just...I have this feeling that I'll get hurt."

"What are you so afraid of? What can I do to change your mind?" He whispers. "I'll do anything for you." He says, pulling your head down to kiss him. The sweet nothings bring back some bad memories, it's starting to feel a bit like deja vu.

"I've been hurt before, Leon."

"What's his name? I'll kick his ass."

"It was in high school, but it happened too many times."

"You have to stop thinking, just focus on me, okay?"

"Leon."

"Come on." He sighs, pressing a finger to your lips. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I don't want to lose something because someone in your past ruined everything for you, okay?"

"I don't know."

He sighs. "Do you wanna head home ?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not upset. Come on, I'll take you back."

"I didn't mean to ruin the night."

"No, I'm not letting you leave thinking you ruined it. I'm sure a million more parties are happening this week if you feel so bad."

"I'm a mess, Leon. Why do you even like me? I'm not worth it."

"Of course you are." He says, cupping your cheek."You're the only person I can stand to be around for hours while sober. And you can't argue with that."

"Okay."

"I'll get us out of here and you can crash in my room."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now come on, we're leaving." 

...

The taxi ride home was short and sweet,  but still awkward. You were scared he'd be mad at you for ending the night so abruptly, but when you got into the room he made sure to put his arm around you, whispering reassurement into your ear, stroking your hair.

"You don't have to worry. I'm not angry."

"Really?"

"I don't blame you for wanting to wait."

"It's just, the last time-"

"I'm not him, you can trust me. I've been trying to prove that to you."

"I think... Maybe I can learn to trust you."

"You will, eventually." He says, holding his arms open, gesturing for her to cuddle with him.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

You cuddle him for a bit, the silence being cut by the sound of the two of you breathing. Leon leans down to kiss capture your lips softly, it feels a lot easier to kiss him back, pressing your body against him.

"I don't know why anyone would ever hurt you." He whispers between kisses. "You're perfect." He runs his fingers through your hair.

"I don't know about that."

"I don't know why you doubt yourself either. Go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning."

[da-rulah]

hey!! hope you’re doing well :) your writing always makes my day better and you are so immensely talented, i mean it!! 🥺❤️

if you’re feeling up to it i would love to hear your headcanons on mary goore with an insecure s/o regarding their looks/body. no rush or pressure:)

Hi lovely! Thank you, I'm doing alright. Could be better, could be worse, but that's neither here nor there. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Thank you so much, I'm so glad I can have a positive impact on someone's day 🥹

So Mary with an insecure reader, hm? Let's see what the brain rot builds...

NSFW 18+ MDNI!

TW/ No pronouns used but female genitalia referenced, blindfolding, talk of insecurities, body worship, fingering

You trusted Mary. Explicitly.

That's why you'd told him about your insecurities, told him you didn't mind if he wanted you to hide parts of yourself, to disguise your least favourite parts if he found them as repulsive as you.

What you hadn't expected, was to find yourself spread out in your underwear and the baggy shirt you'd thrown on that morning, blindfolded...

But still, you trusted him...

"You don't have to look at yourself if you don't want to..." he whispered into your ear, hovering above you, "but please... don't deny me the pleasure."

Your skin broke out into goosebumps, and if he hadn't been laying between them, your thighs would have pressed together in an attempt to find some friction.

Mary noticed your heart rate and knew he had to take this steady, to show you nothing but love - and of course, how fucking hot you made him...

He started by your ankles, planting kisses along the inside of both of your calves, your knees, reaching your thighs where his hands kneaded and squeezed at the flesh while his mouth worked to leave wet trails all over.

"Love these thighs... Fucking love that you could suffocate me between them if you wanted to..."

He avoided your core and instead brought his hands under the hem of the shirt you wore, roaming the bare skin underneath while his lips searched out any stretch marks you had, any moles or freckles, any scars, and marked them with a kiss.

He continued his ascent, his lips and hands roaming the soft expanse of your chest, paying close attention to your nipples as they stiffened under his touch.

Every sense was heightened with your vision hindered... his touch felt sensational.

You couldn't help the whimper that tumbled from your lips, and you felt Mary smirk against you.

He pushes your shirt higher, suckling at your collarbone while he reaches for your hairs, only to tangle them in his hair for you.

Involuntarily your hips rolled underneath him, pressing against him only to feel a familiar stiffness in his jeans...

"Feel that, baby? Feel what you fucking do to me?" he groaned against your neck. "Love every inch of you..."

Any hint of insecurity you had about your body had been wiped clean with the flick of his tongue.

"Mary, please..." you begged, for nothing in particular. He just chuckled beneath your ear, catching your lobe with his teeth.

"Tell me something you like about yourself..." he commanded, his voice low and yet somehow soft.

When you told him you didn't mind your thighs, he was between them in a flash.

"These thighs?" he asked, diving in again to leave open mouthed kisses to the soft flesh, casually nipping with his teeth every so often.

With an affirmative hum, he asked you for another, and subsequently focussed his kisses to wherever you told him you loved until you couldn't stand it any longer.

You told him you loved your core, hoping he might finally give you the attention you wanted.

Instead, he sat up onto his knees, his hands grabbing at your thighs. Suddenly, he dove his hand into your underwear, immediately shoving two long fingers inside you. All his teasing had you prepped and ready to take him.

"Oh, right here?"

The pleasure knocked the wind out of you and had your back arching off the bed.

"Mhm, right there..."

The way Mary worshipped you for the rest of the night, had you coming undone for him multiple times on his fingers, his tongue, toys and finally... finally... his cock...

Well, you'd never doubt how much Mary adored you and your body ever again.

[some-pers0n]

hi hey just wanna let u know that i (this anon in particular) would always want to listen to your thoughts about The Thing youre excited about regardless of the reason or my knowledge or the time-space continuum!

YOU! Ohhh anon you poor soul. I'm terribly sorry. I have been holding onto this ask for a while, at least until the next time I felt as Energized about Them again. Shaking. Twitching. I don't quite know how to explain it. I can only take potshots at attempting to rationalize my thoughts behind them. With that said, here's more rambling about Engiemedic, the only thing I seem to care about

I've rambled about Engiemedic a fair amount of times before, either jokingly with goofy remarks about them or writing a giantass fic about them. They scratch a certain part of my brain that is difficult to really describe and pin-down.

Like I've never really "shipped" anybody before them. Did I like ships? Yeah sure of course. I've always liked considering relationships and thinking about how they intersect and are written. It's probably definitely the aroace bit of me talking, but I only really get involved in ships when there's really some substance to them.

It makes Engiemedic this weird fucked up anomaly to me then because what the hell do you mean that this decently popular non-canon pairing that's had all of like 30 seconds of shared screentime and maybe seven panels where they're in the same room at max has become so engrossing and fascinating to me. It's not like the usual ships where this happens to people; the ones with lengthy tragic tales tied to them or spend so much time with one another. It's just two silly guys

It just...perplexes me. It's odd. I can't describe what about it really draws me in, despite the fact I've written so much. I can at least try and figure out what it is though

I think the thing that made me first interested was simply the dynamic and jokes to be made. They are exceptionally silly, wherein I can fully believe them sticking together and doing weird experiments for hours upon hours. It's hard not to imagine them getting excited over whatever project they've been throwing themselves at. It's fun

Because ultimately both Engie and Medic are both unethical murderous science people, Medic obviously while Engie is a tiny bit more subtle. Their dynamic is interesting in that regard 'cause, when paired together, now you've got two weirdo freaky smart people tossing back ideas and before you know it now they're trying to create some sort of nuclear-powered contraption that explodes bones

It calls out to me in a way that other ships don't, especially Heavymedic. No shade to Heavymedic shippers out there, I think it's still a fun ship, but I don't find it as compelling with their dynamic. Heavy is a reasonable and level-headed guy. Yeah he kills people and laughs about their misery and whatever, but he's more stable than most other mercs. If Medic was to say "I want to self-isolate for days on end while I work to create the bubonic plague 2.0" Heavy would have concerns and try to stop him from doing it because What the Hell

Engie, however, would endorse it. I think Engie and Medic are very similar in that regard. They're dedicated to their crafts and understand the nuance and skill that it takes to partake in it. Engie obviously still has qualms and is there in case Medic clearly ain't right, but he's more likely to get caught up in whatever experiment that Medic is trying to do

Which brings me to my next point: the way they influence each other. When together, I think they are at their best and worst (morally at least). It's like that trope with two smart people coming together and being dumbasses, but instead it's with them making weird creations and doing odd experiments that ultimately do not benefit anyone. They simply do it for fun

On a more personal level, I think Medic draws out the parts of Engie where he tries to hide and represses. Headcanons, obviously, but I think Medic taps into Engie's more sinister nature as a maniac with a god complex and a hankering to kill and really draws it out. It's infectious and hard not to try and match his energy. Medic makes Engie want to get more creative with his projects and drives him to be more experimental and, of course, murderous

Likewise and, again, mainly headcanons, I think Engie helps Medic tap into a slightly more "human" side. I think Medic generally struggles with caring about other people, discarding them in favour of working on his own projects and being by himself. Engie is one of the first people he's encountered that not only likes him and enjoys his company, but is just as wacky and weird as he is. Engie is more charismatic and outgoing and, while still not too terribly great with the whole emotions thing, helps Medic out in case he's Not Doing Good

Their personalities intertwine so much they make me ever so slightly ill. They don't seem alike really at first glance. Medic is over the top, eccentric, and generally a giggly mad scientist. Clear to see the archetype he's based on. Yet, when you look past Engie's charming little quips about Texas, he's very much alike Medic. He has a god complex, is highly intelligent, morally bankrupt, etc and etc. He's just as eccentric and wacky as the doc is, but is only slightly better at keeping it under wraps

I just think they're really entertaining when put together honestly. Sure yeah I love me my angsty and fluffy stuff with them, but I think they're simply great when just working on some project and talking to each other. Their personalities bounce off of one another exceptionally well and it's hard for them not to get so caught up in their work that Oh No it's been Four Days and they haven't left the workshop/laboratory

Ultimately, yeah. I think they care about each other a lot that way. Their work is...intimate in a way. They're lab partners. They spend all of this time together, defying God's will with whatever unholy machination they've crafted, they got to have some sort of bond

What makes me happy is that I think a lot of people really like the concept of Engiemedic in any form. Platonic, romantic, whatever. I personally go for QPR stuff (something about their love being undefinable by normal standards blah blah), but I think it's a neat observation that makes me like it more. It's hard to deny that they're really fun together

Speaking of their connections, let's talk about their roles in the actual game. Y'all heard of the Heavymedic duo, with Heavy running around with a Medic pocketing him the entire time, but have you ever considered the Engiemedic duo?? Engie and Medic are the BACKBONES of this game honestly. All it takes is one Engineer or Medic on a team to shift the balance entirely. Everyone wants a good Engie and Medic, but it's a hard role to fill and nobody really wants it. However, they're needed. They're necessary. They're the main support roles of the game than, say, Sniper or Spy ever are. They're the underappreciated, yet incredibly vital parts of the team.

Honestly the Engiemedic duo is far more prevalent and makes far more sense than the Heavymedic duo, because tbh you can say that Medic is closely connected to any class. Soldiermedic duo where Solly just spams rockets and wipes out the entire team. Demomedic duo where Demo just spams pipes and annihilates every building. What makes the Heavymedic duo any special? God I'm sorry for being a little Heavymedic hater, I promise I think the ship is alright, but idk. I like Engiemedic a lot

Anywho, I think Engiemedic is extremely fun to write about as well as just generally experience. There's so much you can apply to them. It's hard to think of anything they can't do, really. They're great with humor, what with shoving them into a room with some cadaver and letting them have at it. They're great with angst because, with headcanons, they can be really heavily fucked up people trying to make things work. They're great with fluff because they're so silly and it's easy to think of them doing cute things with one another. The list goes on!

They're...special to me. They're certainly something. I could go into all sorts of other things too (more esoteric and metaphoric I'm talking), but eh who cares. I don't like delving too much into headcanons and my own weird readings with these more generalized rambles. I just think they're silly :]

[millersdjarin]

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Six

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: panic attacks, brief description of dissociation, mentions and memories of past trauma & abuse, hurt/comfort, slow burn, bonding, negative self-talk/self-image

Chapter length: 4.9k

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notes: hello, hope you enjoy ❤️ love u ❤️

been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night; but now i see daylight

You realise, as panic starts to rise quickly from your stomach to your chest, tightening your throat and your lungs, that Mando still doesn’t know your name. 

And you realise because he’s trying to ask if you’re alright, turning to you from his place in the pilot’s chair and clearly noticing something’s wrong. Instead of saying your name, he just says, “Hey, everything okay?” 

And maybe if you weren’t so blinded by the sudden fear that’s come over you, you might decide that he can know your name. That he’s trustworthy enough for that. That you, in fact, would quite like to hear your name in his voice.

But you’re up in the vastness of space. Your planet, your home, is beneath you, clouds hovering in the atmosphere, so tiny they could be little models. You fought so hard to get there. To make a life for yourself. To be safe.

What the fuck are you doing? 

You can’t breathe, can barely even think. Where the gaze of Mando’s visor has been a comfort since you met, now it feels like the entire Galaxy is watching you, like They are watching you, like they set their sights on you the second you left the safe haven below you—

Clumsily, you stand up from your seat and leave the cockpit, bursting through into the common room. It’s too small in here, there’s no space, you can’t get out, all that’s around you is the vacuum of space and the door can’t be opened until you’re back on land—

Fuck, kriff, you have to get back down there—

You barely realise that you’ve climbed down the ladder into the ship’s lower deck. Without permission your hand smacks the button that opens the door to the sleeping quarters, then reaches up to grasp your pack. It shakes in your sweaty palms. 

When you turn around, Mando is standing there at the base of the ladder. It makes you jump; you fall back onto the lip of his bed, barely catching yourself. 

“What’s wrong?” HIs modulated voice comes through the pounding in your ears, soft, concerned. 

Your head shakes so quickly that your view of him blurs. He becomes a vision of steel, of hardness. Everything around you is suddenly dangerous. Out to get you. Your chest is tight, scars on your back and your stomach stinging like they’ve only just been inflicted, and you’re not sure how but you manage to blurt out a croaky, “You have to take me back.” 

He stands there, pauses. “What?” 

Pointedly, you walk over to the ship’s entrance hatch and stand beside it, practically pushing your back into it like somehow it will transport you back to land. Back to safety. Back to where they can’t find you—

“Cyar’ika,” his voice says, shar-ee-kah, and you don’t have the space in your brain right now to even register that he’s speaking Mando’a, to ask him what it means, “you’re hyperventilating.” 

Yes, thank you, Mando, that much is apparent. “You have to take me back!” You all but scream, the crack in your voice marking the beginning of the dam breaking, the tears that have been wobbling in your eyes for the last five minutes finally pouring down your cheeks. Clutching your pack to your chest, you don’t even think to wipe them away.

They’re coming for you.

They have to be. 

You shouldn’t have left.

What have I done?

“Hey, hey,” he holds out his gloved hands like he would if he were trying to calm down a wild animal about to attack or flee. He steps just a little closer, but stops when you respond by throwing yourself against the door again. “It’s alright. Hey, Cyar’ika, you’re safe. Just breathe, alright?” 

I’m breathing too much already. 

I’m not breathing enough. 

I’m going to die.

The thought breaks you. 

A strangled sob escapes your lips, makes its way past the unbearable dryness of your mouth. You slide down the door, landing on the floor with a thud as your eyes screw shut and release more tears. 

Someone in here is crying, bawling, loud and obnoxious and pathetic. It’s only as your ribs start to ache that you realise it’s you. 

“Oh, kriff,” you breathe out as reality hits you again, slamming into you with the force of a bantha. It’s hard to see it as a comfort, even though it’s shocked you back into your body when, for a second there, you felt as though you were floating above it. Like you’d already died. 

“It’s alright, Cyar’ika,” his voice is so soft, softer than you’ve ever heard it. Before you open your eyes, you let yourself imagine, just for a second, that when you open them, you’ll see his face. Hear his voice unmodulated. His eyes, whatever colour they are, looking at you and bringing you back to the moment. “Just breathe. Shallow breaths. That’s it.” 

Just a little frantic, you nod. Then you open your eyes, and though his face is still silver beskar, something like relief washes over you. He’s crouched down in front of you, right at your level.

As your breathing slows and the tears stop coming faster than a damn waterfall, you hear the familiar cooing of Grogu’s voice, and look over Mando’s shoulder to see him standing by the ladder, his ears turned to the ground. 

It’s what you need to see. To remember that you’re safe. 

“I’m—” You look back to Mando, trying to form words in your still-dry throat, “I’m sorry. Kriff, I’m so sorry…” your eyes fall to your lap. Bending your knees up, you rest your forearms on them, clasping your cold, sweaty hands together and hiding your face. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says. He means it, you know that. 

But shame and embarrassment are creeping up inside you as the panic subsides. You’re not sure which is worse. Your cheeks are hot, they must be bright red right now, and covered in sticky, salty tears. “I’m sorry,” you say again, because it’s all you can think of to say.

If you were looking up, you’d maybe see the shake of his head. “Do you need some water?” 

“Please.” 

He gets up and turns away, and the loss of him there feels like a safety wall has just crumbled in front of you. An itch of panic goes down your spine, but then—Grogu. 

He takes the opportunity of Mando moving to come running across to you, faster than you’ve ever seen him move on those two little legs. His arms outstretched, he grasps your leg when he reaches you, looking up at you with a tilted head and concerned eyes. 

Unable to resist him, one of your shaky hands reaches out and takes hold of his. 

“She’s alright,” Mando’s voice comes up again. He’s back in a breath, holding out a cup of water for you. 

You take it, hoping he can’t feel the sweat between your fingers through his gloves. “Thank you.” 

The kid looks to Mando, still holding your leg. He tilts his head the other way, as if asking a question. 

“She’s alright, kid. It’s okay.” 

Letting go of you, Grogu waddles across to Mando, who’s crouched down in front of you again. Except he shifts when Grogu approaches him, leaning down on the ground with one hand while he sits down properly, one leg bent to his side, the other with his knee up like yours. The kid crawls into his lap, keeping his eyes on you. 

“How do you feel?” Mando asks after you’ve taken an embarrassingly large gulp of water. 

Your forehead presses into the glass. “Better,” you croak out. “I’m…” 

“Don’t apologise again,” he scolds, still so soft. “Please.” 

The first word that comes to mind is, of course, Sorry, so you just keep your mouth shut.

Your thoughts are still reeling, catching up to the current situation you’ve got here and trying to remember what exactly you said to Mando during the haze of panic; all you could really think about was the tightening in your chest, and how it felt like the only thing that would get you to breathe again would be to go back to your hut and hide in your bed forever. 

But, here you are. Breathing. Sitting on the floor of the hold, back pressed against the door. Not hiding in a bed.

Alive.

As you sort through the memories from the last few minutes, trying to remember what nonsense may have spilled through your lips, you remember one thing. 

You lift your head from the glass and peer at Mando over the top of it. He’s still looking at you, obviously. “What did you call me?” 

“What?” 

“You called me something. Something in Mando’a, I think?” 

His shoulders tense just the smallest amount. “Oh. Did I?” 

“I…my head was pretty foggy, but…” 

You could swear you hear him sigh. “I don’t know your name. It felt like I needed something to call you.” 

Right. Now you remember what you would have been thinking about, had the only safe place you’ve ever known sinking out from underneath you not sent you into a blind panic. 

Before you can overthink it, you say it. You tell him. Your name, quiet on your tongue. Tentative.

He says it back to you, and, kriff. The first person outside of your old life to say it, and honestly? You never want to hear anyone other than him speak it ever again after this. 

“Thank you for telling me,” he says. 

“Figured it was only fair.” 

“You don’t owe me it.” 

“No, I know,” you say, finding that you mean it. “What did it mean?” 

“Your name?” 

“No. The thing you called me just now, when I was…” 

He looks away. “It’s nothing.” 

“Oh, come on,” you nudge your toe against his boot, “you can’t just leave me hanging like that.” 

He says your name—fucking hell—then, “It’s nothing.” 

Dramatically, you sigh. “Damn. That’s cruel, Mando. You can’t just call me a new nickname in the middle of a pretty severe panic attack and then not tell me what you called me. Was it an insult? You call me crazy, or something?” 

“No,” his visor snaps back up to look at you, and there’s an urgency in his voice suddenly, a seriousness. “No. Of course not.” 

“Hm,” playful, you narrow your eyes at him. “I’ll get the truth out of you one day.” 

He shakes his head, but something like a chuckle comes up from his chest and through his helmet. You don’t even realise you’re smiling. Maybe he is, too. 

“So, you’re staying?” He asks. 

And, oh. That’s what you said during the whole ordeal.

You have to take me back.

“Oh,” you breathe out. For another second you stare at him, then look around the deck, at the kid still sitting in his lap. It wasn’t an easy decision to make to leave. Or maybe it was the easiest one you’ve ever had to make. All you know is that you wouldn't have left with anyone else. “I’m staying,” you decide before you can think about it any more. “I’m sorry for…all that.” 

“I asked you not to apologise,” he says. “I’m glad. That you’re staying.” 

A smile twitches at your lips. There’s that warmth in your chest, and it’s such a relief as it spreads across the fear and the anxiety, nullifying it, putting it to sleep, that you almost breathe out a sigh. “Well,” you turn to teasing to mask the emotion, “that is, if you haven’t already decided I’m too nuts to be on your ship.” 

Wordless, he shakes his head. His silence doesn’t say nothing, though. You know that he’s disagreeing with you. And you’re not sure when you started being able to translate his unreadable expression. 

“Does it happen a lot?” He asks after the quiet has stretched on for quite some time. Your glass is empty, the tears on your cheeks dried. 

“Does what happen a lot?” 

“…That. Panic attacks.” 

“Oh,” you mutter. With a soft sigh, you shrug one shoulder. “It used to. Back when I first escaped…when I first got to that place,” you correct yourself, glancing nervously up at him as if you’d be able to read his curiosity, “But, not for a while, no. And I don’t think it was ever that bad.” 

He nods like he understands. Maybe he does. “We’ve got a day cycle until we get to Nevarro,” he says, pushing himself off the floor and standing up, the kid resting in the crook of his elbow. “Get some rest, okay? You can clean up in the ’fresher if you want.” 

“You sayin’ I smell?” 

“Like a bantha,” he quips back without missing a beat.

You laugh. Wiping at your sticky cheeks, you stand up too, and head over to the refresher. 

“You hungry?” 

“Getting there.” 

He nods, putting his foot up on the first wrung of the ladder. “I’ll make you something.” 

Then, he’s gone, deftly climbing the ladder even with the kid in his arm. 

You watch the empty space of the hatch for a minute, lost in your thoughts. Thoughts of him. 

No one has ever seen you like that before. You never would have allowed him to if you’d had a choice in the matter, of course, but you had always thought that if anyone caught you in such a state, they’d either run away and never look back, or punish you for it. 

Instead, all you hear now are the soft sounds of Mando pottering in the kitchenette, making you food. Taking care of you. Somehow, his words and his presence had brought you out of the haze, made you feel safe again.

You went to that planet to be alone forever. To not have to trust anyone or let anyone else in that might want to harm you. And you can’t say that it didn’t work, to be alone. To be so fucking alone that it hurt. 

Panic attacks in the quiet of the forest, from the first light of morning to the deep, darkness of the night. Clawing at your chest, wishing the pain could just stop, wishing you could take away the suffocating hurt and fear. 

You were so alone. 

Staying in your old life wouldn’t have made you any less alone; leaving to be alone was your only option. 

But now you’re not alone, and you think that maybe, possibly, that’s not such a bad thing. And that is both freeing and terrifying all at once. 

Kriff.

Maybe washing your face will quell the embers glowing in your chest. 

-

“We’re coming up on Nevarro,” Mando’s voice calls through from the cockpit. You’re sitting in the living area and eating with the kid. “Once you’re done eating, come sit down for landing.” 

The two of you finish off your food after a few minutes. After you’ve put your dishes in the crate to keep them from flying off the table during landing, you get the kid and take him up into the cockpit, getting him sitting in his seat and strapping him in. Then you do the same for yourself in your own chair, watching as the flashing colours of hyperspace suddenly come to a stop, and a planet materialises in front of you.

Amongst the grey-blue of the planet’s surface, craters of glowing orange stick out beneath the swirled clouds in the atmosphere. “So, it’s volcanic?”

“Yes.” 

“But inhabitable?” 

He nods, flicking switches on the panel with one hand, his other on the yoke. “There are lava fields and rivers that keep it in control. For the most part.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “For the most part?” 

He chuckles lightly. “Don’t worry. The city we’re going to is safe. Or, it is now.” 

“It wasn’t always?” 

“No,” Mando replies, and you’re sure there must be a story there. You won’t ask, not wanting to intrude on his life more than you already have; but then, shockingly, he elaborates. “I lived here for a while. Before the kid.” 

“Ah, so you were why it was dangerous?” 

“Of course.” 

A soft laugh escapes your lips. You look away from him and back outside as you enter the planet’s atmosphere. Soon, clouds are floating quickly past the cockpit as land gets closer, and the image of a city developing before you has your chest tightening just a little. Except this time, it’s not panic, or fear of any kind. 

No, it’s something else. Something…good. A wave of emotion passes over you, clenching at your chest. It takes you a minute to realise that it’s because this is the third place in the entire Galaxy you’ve ever been. You’re about to see somewhere new, somewhere that your feet have never touched, somewhere that you don’t need to go, but can. 

You’ve done it. Kriff, you’ve travelled. 

You hadn’t realised until now that you’d never truly found freedom, before. You just escaped. And those aren’t the same things.

Large crests of black volcanic rock are everywhere in the city, buildings built on, in, and around them. In the distance you see a lava river, swirling slowly along, red hot. 

As the ship comes to a halt on the landing platform, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

Mando turns to you. “You alright?” 

Feeling suddenly teary, you nod, still staring out the window. “I’m good.” 

He waits for a second, as if just to check you’re sure, then nods and stands up to get the kid. 

Grogu has a pram. The cutest thing you’ve ever seen, after Grogu himself. It’s silver, egg-shaped, and plush on the inside, floating along beside you and Mando as you walk through the streets of Nevarro City. Grogu sits up in it and looks around, curious as always, though not as awed by it as he was the waterfalls and forests from before. He’s been here before. You can tell. 

Everyone is staring. Literally everyone. Even those who aren’t staring yet, stop and stare when Mando walks past them, briefly abandoning whatever it is they’re doing to watch him with wide eyes. Some look scared, some annoyed, some even pointedly disinterested. But no matter what their feelings about him are, they can’t take their eyes off him. 

And, honestly, you can relate to that. 

“I’ve got a friend to catch up with, find some jobs,” Mando says when you’re halfway into the city, “you can come with me, or I can tell you where the library is and you can head straight there.” 

A stab of fear pokes into your gut at the thought. Honestly, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re not sure you’re ready to go off on your own just yet. Not somewhere so unfamiliar. The only way you felt safe enough to even leave your lonely safe haven was with Mando’s offer of his protection. 

“I’ll come with you,” you say, “if that’s alright.” 

He nods once, and leads you down a few more streets. 

His friend is, apparently, the High Magistrate of the City. Which surprises you, for some reason. 

It turns out, though, that he’s also the former—or, so you assume—leader of the Guild outpost here on Nevarro. Which makes more sense. 

His office is bright and open, white walls and a desk in the corner. There’s someone behind it, a species you’ve never seen before, someone blue. He seems to bristle at Mando’s arrival, which is apparently what a lot of people do—admittedly, including you once upon a time—but Mando seems unbothered and unsurprised to see him. 

Before Mando can even say anything, a man steps out from a door behind the desk, and his face lights up. Very different reaction, you note to yourself with a smirk. He’s got brown skin, greying hair, and wears a black cloak with official-looking brooches on each of his shoulders. 

“So, the word from the docks is true! Mando! Good to see you,” he says with a grin, stepping out from behind the desk and reaching out to grasp Mando’s hand in his in welcome. 

“Good to see you,” Mando says. The kid, still in his floating pram, coos happily at the sight of Mando’s friend. 

“Ah! And it’s even better to see you, my little green friend,” the man exclaims, leaning over the pram to give Grogu a little tickle on his head. The kid laughs. 

Mando looks back at you. “This is Greef Karga,” he says, gesturing to him, “Magistrate of Nevarro. He’s a friend.” 

Still smiling, Greef reaches out and offers his hand to you in greeting. You take it, smiling shyly at him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” 

You freeze for a second, hearing the implication in his voice that he expects you to offer your name. 

It was one thing to tell Mando, it’s another thing to tell a stranger. 

“Just call me…what was it, Mando? Cyar’ika?” 

“No,” Mando says, way too urgently for it to be considered casual, holding out a hand to you that says Stop. He looks back to Greef. “No, don’t call her that.” 

“Why not?” You ask with a teasing smirk. In the hazy memory of your panic attack the other day, you had managed to remember what it was he called you. And you are determined for him to tell you what it meant. 

“It’s not—” Mando stops, and sighs, exasperated. Greef looks confused by the whole ordeal, one eyebrow raised as he looks between the two of you. Mando continues, stilted, “This is—my friend. We’re travelling together for the time being.” 

Greef looks to you. Gives a polite smile. “Good to have you. Please, come into my office, tell me what brings you here.” 

Mando accepts and follows Greef towards the back room. Grogu’s pram hovers between the two of you as you stand back, hesitating. Mando realises you’re not following, and the helmet tilts back to look at you. “You alright?” 

“Fine,” you say, only half a lie. You’re not used to following strangers into rooms that you don’t know. Rooms that might not have a way to escape. “Just—I’ll wait out here. With the kid.” 

He pauses, then nods. “Alright. I’ll just be through here.” 

You nod too, appreciative, and reach out to turn the kid’s pram to you. “Come on, kid, let’s see who we can see from this window, huh?” Taking him over to the windows on the front of the office building, you sit down in one of the plush seats, and angle Grogu so he can see the street beyond. It’s busy, crowded with all sorts of people. You haven’t seen this many people gathered in one place in such a long time, and it’s nice, to be watching it from the outside. From somewhere safe, tucked where no one can see you; or, at least, where no one is looking. 

Greef pokes his head around the door after a few minutes, and gives instructions to the guy behind the desk, who soon excuses himself to do whatever it is his boss had asked. He avoids your eyes as he leaves, like he’s scared of you just because you’re here with Mando. Which is actually extremely comforting. 

You can hear the hushed tones of Mando and Greef’s conversation, though most of it is too far away to decipher anything. You’re only just listening as the kid plays with your hands and points at people as they pass. You think about his powers, about how he healed you, and wonder what else he can do. Actually, what can’t he do? A child who can heal wounds can surely do other impossible things, too? Can he read minds? Control objects and the world around him, just like the tales of the Jedi you used to hear as a child? 

An unknown, and unimportant, amount of time has passed by the time Mando comes back out into the lobby. He’s tense, shoving what looks like tracking fobs into his satchel, striding over to you with more intensity than usual. 

But his shoulders relax when you turn to look at him. You pretend not to notice. “Hey,” he says, sounding…different. “You guys okay?” 

Looking up at him, wondering if you should be concerned, you give a gentle nod. “We’re good. Are you?” 

He makes a noncommittal noise. Not a great sign, but now’s not the time to ask because Greef follows him out, and Mando turns back to him, reaching out his hand to shake. “Thank you,” he says, “as always.” 

“Anytime, Mando, you know that. Hey, you two grab a drink at the cantina before you go. Add it to my tab, on me.” 

Mando nods once, letting go of Greef’s hand. “Thank you.” 

“See you again.”

“Please, tell Dune that I was here.” 

“She’s a busy woman now,” Greef chuckles, “but I will. I’m sure she’ll be sad to have missed you.” 

“She’s got my number,” Mando quips. 

Dune?

It’s ridiculous that something akin to jealousy pangs in your stomach.

Greef chuckles again, and gives Mando one last wave, flashing you a friendly smile, before turning away and heading back to the room he came from. 

Mando turns back to you. He sees that you were staring. 

“You got more friends here, then, huh?” You ask, trying to sound casual as you stand up. 

“Just the two.” 

“So…who’s Dune?” You follow him out of the door and onto the busy street. 

“A friend, like you said.”

Nerves tighten your throat, knowing that you shouldn’t ask, you shouldn’t want to ask, but knowing that you’re going to ask anyway—“Just a friend?” 

Mando stops walking. 

It surprises you, but you stop, too, and turn to face him. 

He’s already looking at you. “Yes,” he says. “She’s just a friend.” And he says it so pointedly, like he’s trying to communicate something else. But you have absolutely no idea what it is. 

You suppose that maybe it was presumptuous of you to hear she and automatically assume it could be romantic. Maybe Mando isn’t in to women. Maybe he isn’t in to anyone. 

Actually, you think, can he even be in to anyone? In his Creed, is that something that’s allowed? 

“I was just curious,” you lie, giving him a nervous smile. 

He just stares at you. Because of course he does. It’s his favourite kriffing thing to do.

“Just curious,” he repeats, tone flat. 

You blush. Fuck, of all things for your face to do, that’s not what you want. You blush a lot. His voice echoes in your head. Kriffing hells, you’re a disaster. Whenever he’s looking at you, you’re an absolute disaster. 

Your mouth speaks before you allow it to, which is its favourite thing to do, “I just…heard of someone who was a woman and…sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. Maybe you’re not…you know what? Just forget I said anything.” You laugh nervously, rubbing at your bright red cheek as if that’ll somehow make it go back to normal. You walk past him, trying to prompt him to keep going, to forget you said it.

But as you pass him, you feel a gloved hand take a gentle hold of your arm, holding you in place. A gasp pulls into your mouth at the feeling. You look down to where his fingers are wrapped around your wrist, thumb pressed into your pulse point, then up to his suddenly very close helmet. 

Your name slips through the modulator. It’s heavy, loaded. It leaves you breathless. “There’s no one else,” he says, so low that you’re surprised you even heard it. 

No one else other than who? 

Gulping down your nerves, you gaze into his visor. “But…you are interested in…” 

“Women?” He finishes for you; somehow you hear the quirk of his eyebrow in his voice. You’re probably just imaging it.

“I…yes?” Your face must be entirely red now, and just the thought of it makes it even worse, spreading to your neck and the place where he’s still holding onto you. 

He lets you go, as if reading your mind. You wait with bated breath for his answer. For confirmation that there could be a tiny chance that, not only would he be interested in you, but that he could ever be with someone in that way in the first place. 

It’s absurd. To be standing here, in the middle of a crowded street, burning up from the sheer heat of his gaze, thinking about whether the Mandalorian before you—who’s face you have never, and will never, even see—would want to date you.

You’d laugh at yourself, if you weren’t desperate to hear his reply. 

“Yes,” is all he says. Flat, emotionless. Giving you absolutely nothing and absolutely everything all at once. With that, he turns, and walks away.

Grogu’s pram follows him. 

It takes you a moment to do the same. 

notes: helloooo i hope you enjoyed! i cannot thank you enough for reading and for the wonderful comments/messages y'all have left for this fic so far. it means so much to me that you're enjoying reading as much as i'm enjoying writing and posting. ❤️

as always, updates on Mondays and Thursdays ❤️

take care of yourself!

ps. psssst, requests for joel and din are open at the moment. more info here, but i'll be making a proper post about it soon!

taglist: @toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @whenpugzfly @elsasshole @moony-toasts @julesjewelss36 @jbcalway @mxlsmith @indec1sive

[ruggiethethuggie]

R U G T O B E R

wc: 781 a/n: i'm telling you now, I may fall short on this but we will do our best lmao and idk what happened to my cute banner. forgive me.

“♪♪ Spooky Scary Skeletons, Send shivers down your spine~”

You had been cleaning around the Ramshackle dorm all day because to be honest, it just needed more TLC than what you had been able to give it lately. It was the last day of September, but this was just the beginning of your real spooky season.

Every year you’d do a deep clean and then decorate your home in festive decorations. Bright green and purple witches’ hats and cauldrons, a bucket on every table with Halloween candies, and your favorite ghosts and pumpkins placed in just the right spots.

Decorating Ramshackle felt different than when you’d do your house back home, but you were trying to make the best of it since this was your favorite holiday. So you woke up this morning and immediately got to work and turned on your spooky music playlist after breakfast.

DING DONG !

You stopped in your tracks, trying to figure out why on earth someone would be here this early- and on the weekend nonetheless. You tossed your cleaning rag onto the couch and opened the front door. 

“Hi, I have some pumpkin spice drinks for-,” they acted like they were reading a nonexistent label on the two drinks in their hands. “For a Y/N? Do you know them? They’re still supposed to tip me for these~”

The hyena beastman standing in your doorway gave a fangy grin as he handed you one of the drinks. “Rug, what are you doing here? Do you realize how early it is?” You stepped aside so he could come inside the dorm.

“Mmph,” he said with a nod as he drank his drink and plopped down on the couch, scooting the dirty cleaning rag away from him with his hand. He placed his drink on the coffee table, making sure he was using the coasters sitting out.

“I mean, yeah, I know what time it is. It’s spooky time.” You rolled your eyes at him and chuckled. “Okay, sure, but why not come over later? It’s like the crack ass of dawn right now,” you said as you leaned over the back of the couch next to him. “What? You don’t want my help? Aren’t you putting up your decorations today? Sure looks like you could use me. Y’know I used to work for a Spirit Halloween one time. It was a seasonal gig, but this guy was the one in charge of putting up all the displays.” 

He looked so proud of himself as he spoke; he was so happy to share his Halloween decoration accomplishments with you. “Oh, wow~” you said sarcastically. “You mean I’m here with a world renowned Halloween decorating connoisseur? And to think I go to the same school as them! Amazing…”

“Alright, butthead. I guess I’ll just leave then.” He got up from the couch and grabbed his drink. “Ahhh, guess all those… fun… fall ideas I had can go down the drain…,” he said in a sulking tone as he took a few steps towards the door before turning back to look at you.

“Don’t give me those eyes, you heathen.” You playfully glared at him, racking your brain to figure out his silly little schemes. “What kind of ‘fun fall ideas’ are you talking about?”

“Oh… it’s nothing. Nothing you wanna go do with me anyways. Guess I’ll have to find another to enjoy this Rugtober with.” He had his hand on the doorknob and a wide grin on his face as he looked at you. He knew what he was doing.

“Rugtober? What the hell is that?” you chuckled as you put your drink down and grabbed your cleaning rag once again.

“Uhh?! Only the best time of the year- and if you wanna join, you have to get a ticket from yours truly.”

You narrowed your eyes at him again and crossed your arms over your chest. “What’s the ticket gonna cost me?”

Ruggie opened the door and took another big sip of his drink. “Where’s the fun in me telling you? I’ll see you tomorrow, at the crack ass of dawn again, shyeheehee~”

“HEY?!” you shouted to him, his head popping back in before the door shut completely. “You’re just gonna leave? I thought you came to help decorate?!”

Ruggie looked around and snickered. “You look like you got it taken care of, Y/N. Seee youuu tomorrroowwwww~,” he sang as the door shut. You stood there and wondered what plans this “Rugtober” season would bring to you. At least this stupid pumpkin drink he brought you was going to fuel you through your cleaning, but you couldn’t help but wonder what he was scheming.

© Pumpkin Divider | please do not copy and or repost my work as your own, my brain is massive and these are my thoughts.

[sweet-littlerose]

Every Little Everything || Matt S. X Reader Fanfic

Part 4: Face To Face

Warm May air hits your face as you step out of the house. You pull up your blue baggy jeans, adjust your black crop top, and bend down to tie the laces on your white airforces Nate got you for Christmas. You were meeting Nate in town along with some of his friends from high school. You were headed to your car when your phone rang.

“Hello?” your voice rang with confusion, it was Nate 

“Hey I'm gonna have to cancel today, something came up and I'm not gonna be able to meet you,” he said “Well I can come to your place if you need me to” you offer “No! N-no..I mean that's okay it's fine I'm good. I’ll see you later babe” he said softly, the call disconnecting and leaving you baffled.

Nate wasn't the type to cheat or do anything to hurt you purposely and yet the suspicion settled and swirled in your stomach on repeat. You decide to go into town anyway, do some shopping, anything to get that weird phone call out of your mind. 

Shopping did little to ease the worry that had taken permanent residence in your brain. You were an overthinker, a worrier and the depth of missing Matt hadn't eased up since beginning to date Nate which added guilt to the mix of emotions already swirling in your head. 

Next Day

The next day you tried calling Nate. he rarely ever let you go to bed without so much as a text and now radio silence. After the weird call from yesterday, the overwhelming anxiety was almost consuming. You weren't gonna be that crazy girlfriend who showed up at her boyfriend's house demanding answers but you were afraid you’d get to that point.

3 Days Later

You hated to admit it but you were less than okay. You hadn't talked to Nate since that weird call and there was no break from the storming emotions. Anxiety, worry, suspicion, anger, the lot of them, all screaming at you to get your ass out of bed and drive to Nates' house. God forbid you walk in on him with another girl. The thought played again and again on a loop, the scenario creating the sack of worry that would be described as you, bed rotting. You finally pry yourself from the sheets, your feet taking you into the bathroom where you flick on the lights and start the shower. After a hot shower and some time to think, you decide you don't care how crazy you seem…you are going to Nate’s house to figure this shit out.

The drive there felt excruciatingly long, the silence feeling like a weight on your shoulders that physically felt like it was drowning you. What if you walked in on him with another girl, what would you say?

Stop it Y/N

Your inner voice seemed to knock you from your trance as you pulled into Nate's driveway, a familiar van sitting next to his car. You swallowed the newfound lump in your throat, parking and taking the keys from the ignition. You unbuckle your seat belt, getting out of the car with a slam of the door closing behind you. 

Standing now on his doorstep, you firmly knock at the door. The door opens, your breath leaving your lungs as you come face to face with him. It felt like a gut punch like your soul had been separated from your body. “Y/N? I thought you were out of town with your parents?” Matt’s voice rang through your ears. You were staring, taking in the man in front of you. His sharp jaw was decorated with stubble, and his piercing blue eyes, and messy brown hair. He looked different than he had in high school, hotter. Everything about him had you gasping for air almost, clenching your thighs for some sort of relief from the throbbing need in your core “Y/N?” Matt asked, his brows knitted together in confusion “U-uh…um..i..when..” Fucking speak Y/N“When did you guys get into town” you ask, your eyes avoiding his gaze.

“Uh like a week ago? Nate said he told you, here come in I'll go find him, I think he and Chris are out back” Matt movies aside to let you in

You blink, turn, and walk back to your car, this isn't good…not good at all. Matt being in LA is fine, it is good, it's easy when it's just the faint thoughts and memories of him that plague your mind but seeing him…having him here, being face to face, it was like reigniting the fire that had long burned in your chest before he left. You feel a hand grab your wrist as you get to your car. Matt turns you, trapping you between the car and him, his hands on either side of your head 

His voice was low, dark, and different than when you last saw him. He’d grown into himself, no longer the shy boy you used to like in high school. Now he was everything you’d only imagined when you’d lay in bed at night under Nate, wishing it was Matt instead. That was bad, awful but you couldn't shake it and now here he was, inches from your face, trying to decipher why you’d run off. “Didn't you miss me?” he whispered

-VICTORY SCREEEEECH- I UPLOADED ARE WE SHOCKED

[ghosttotheparty]

@thorniest-rose this is ur fault your tags on part one made me emotional so here’s one more part <3 love u also i added it as chapter two of broken brain <3

cw: tics; self-deprecation

“Hey, baby.”

Eddie looks up from where he’s sitting at the kitchen island, his legs crossed on his seat in front of him, setting his pen down.

“Hi.”

“How’re you?” Steve asks softly, taking off his vest and dropping it on the countertop, coming close.

“Having a rough day,” Eddie says, the words barely out of his mouth before his chin jerks to the side, turning his head sharply. He closes his eyes, sighing heavily, and before he can open them, Steve is sliding his hands over Eddie’s neck gently, rubbing it tenderly. Eddie moves slowly, shifting to face Steve, and before he can lean into Steve’s torso, his hand flies out and hits Steve’s hip hard. Eddie flinches, pressing his hand to the spot carefully.

“Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” Steve murmurs, one of his hands pushing through Eddie’s hair. Eddie’s stomach twists, and he huffs quietly, closing his eyes. “What is it?”

Eddie shakes his head, opening his eyes to look up at him.

Steve touches his face, his fingers brushing over his cheek, over the rough, sensitive skin of his scar, and he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s forehead.

“What is it?” he asks quietly.

Eddie exhales, turning his cheek into Steve’s palm, feeling the tension leave his body.

“…How are you not tired of me?” he asks after a moment.

Steve blinks, his expression hardening, but his hands remain soft on him.

“What do you mean?” he asks in a small voice.

“I just…” Eddie shrugs weakly. “Feel like you should be fed up with me by now,” he half-jokes, but Steve frowns, his fingers trailing over Eddie’s jaw.

“Why would you think that?” he asks quietly, like he’s offended.

Eddie blinks at him, his eyes stinging a little bit. His hand tightens on Steve’s hip, one of his fingers holding loop of his jeans.

“I keep hitting you,” he says weakly. It happens often. Not as often as his whistling, or his head jerking, his eyes squeezing shut or rolling to the ceiling, but often. When they’re on the sofa, when they’re hugging, when they’re just talking. Eddie wants to cry every time, but Steve doesn’t even acknowledge it, except for the occasional it’s okay.

“You can’t control that, babe,” Steve says adamantly.

“I know, it’s just…” Eddie looks away, frustrated. “I keep hurting you.”

“I think you think you hit a lot harder than you do.”

“Steve,” Eddie says seriously, tugging at his belt loop, looking up at him. “I almost smacked you in the face the other day.”

“You redirected,” Steve says lightly, shrugging.

“Steve.”

“Do you want me to be mad at you?”

“I…” Of course he doesn’t. But it feels like Steve should be mad at him. Or at least annoyed. “I don’t know.”

“Well I’m not,” Steve says firmly, holding his chin. “Ever. Okay?”

It doesn’t make Eddie feel better. He exhales, looking down, at the blue ink on the top of Steve’s thigh, rough doodles on his jeans from when he gets bored at work.

Steve sighs, pushing Eddie’s hair back before he lets go of him, moving so Eddie’s hand falls from his hip, and he pushes Eddie’s sketchbook out of the way, looking at the drawing on the open page. It’s an unfinished sketch, messy and not very good at all in Eddie’s overly humble opinion, but Steve smiles at it.

“‘S good,” he says softly as he pulls himself up onto the counter. Eddie watches him, watches the muscles of his arms flex, and his cheeks flush with warmth when Steve reaches for the armrests of his chair and easily pulls him closer, between his legs.

Eddie looks up at him, that familiar feeling settling in his chest, and he reaches his hands up, setting his arms across Steve’s legs, holding his hips again.

“Talk,” Steve says softly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” He touches said head, runs his fingers through Eddie’s hair, scratches at his scalp. Eddie wants to cry.

Eddie sighs, leaning to rest his cheek on Steve’s knee, closing his eyes.

“Just…” His shoulder jerks slightly. He ignores it. “I don’t know. Kinda crazy you haven’t gotten sick of me yet.”

“Why would I ever get sick of you?” Steve asks softly, playing with Eddie’s hair. “Hm?”

“Because I keep hitting you,” Eddie says sullenly, letting go of Steve’s hips. “Because I… throw things and hit things and I’m… noisy.” He pushes Steve’s shirt up with one hand, the other falling under the island, untucking it and pressing his hands under the fabric to Steve’s skin. “I interrupt. I’m annoying.”

Steve pulls his hands away and untucks the rest of his shirt, holding it up with one hand so Eddie can trace his scars softly, gazing.

“You’re not annoying, Eddie.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t believe him, and Steve can tell.

“Eddie, baby, look at me.”

Eddie looks at him without lifting his head. His vision is obstructed by his hair, and Steve gently moves it out of the way.

“You are not annoying,” he says again, softer, his eyes shining earnestly. “I know you can’t control it.”

“That just makes it more annoying,” Eddie grumbles.

“No, it doesn’t.” Steve’s fingers drag through his hair.

Eddie exhales, looking back at where his hand is tracing Steve’s scars.

“You’re annoyed by it,” Steve says, and Eddie nods against his leg. “I’m not, Eddie.”

Eddie is quiet, a tingling starting on his shoulders like he’s going to shiver, and he tenses.

“Alright, Eddie, look at me,” Steve says, his voice shifting, tapping Eddie’s cheek to prompt him to lift his head. Eddie does, muttering a soft, “Hold on,” and looking away. He pushes his shoulders back, closing his eyes, and Steve waits quietly, patiently, until Eddie’s head jerks back violently, and his shoulders shrug up suddenly. A second passes before Eddie drops his head, sighing and relaxing.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Eddie shivers before he looks up at him tiredly, and Steve leans down, holding his face between his face, looking into his eyes.

“I need you to, like, really listen to me, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes.

“When I say that you’re annoying,” Steve says, still looking into his eyes, “or obnoxious, or any of those things, I don’t mean it. I’m just teasing. And if you don’t like it, or if it hurts you, I’ll stop.” He looks so earnest that Eddie almost hurts. “And when I say those things,” Steve says slowly, carefully and intentionally, “I’m talking about how you act with the kids, usually. When you’re…” He shrugs, smiling softly. “Immature and chaotic. But even though I tease, I love when you act like that.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“Even though it riles them up?”

“Yeah,” Steve says softly. “Because they get to just be kids when you’re fucking around with them.”

Oh.

Eddie smiles softly.

“And,” Steve continues, “when I say those things, I am never, ever talking about your tics. You understand me?”

Eddie nods weakly, his eyes burning.

“You are not annoying to me, Eddie,” Steve says softly, leaning down and leaving a careful kiss on his lips. “I promise.”

“Don’t you get tired?” Eddie asks, exasperated. Steve looks at him.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks quietly.

“It’s constant, Steve,” Eddie says, his eyes burning. “And you just… put up with it, you— you’re always getting me ice, or holding my hand still, or getting pillows for me, or…” He exhales, looking up at Steve desperately. “You’re always taking care of me.”

“I like taking care of you,” Steve says adamantly. Eddie looks away, holding back an eyeful. “Eddie, I’m serious, look at me.”

Eddie looks up at him. His lips are pressed together, his eyes shining with some unreadable, desperate emotion.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

Steve leans down and kisses him, holding his face between his hands so his cheeks are squishing under his palms, sucking softly on his lower lip, slow and careful like everything he’s ever done with Eddie.

He pauses when they part, their foreheads pressed together, breathing a little hard, holding Eddie close. Eddie slides his other hand under Steve’s shirt. His skin is warm. His scars are rough, the skin thick and sensitive, tender evidence of his survival. Eddie likes to kiss them.

“I love you,” Steve whispers.

Eddie’s eyes open. His breath escapes him, and it’s like his bones melt. He slumps, squeezing his eyes shut as the words wash over him, his hands squeezing Steve’s sides softly.

“Really?” he chokes, pulling away after a moment. Steve’s eyes are tear-filled.

“Really really,” he says softly. Eddie blinks tears back, sliding his hands over Steve’s sides.

“I don’t get tired of taking care of you,” Steve murmurs, looking at Eddie’s face, his thumb brushing over his trembling lip, “because taking care of you, and helping you, and looking after you is… me loving you.” He pauses for a moment, letting their foreheads touch. “And I don’t ever get tired of loving you.”

Eddie’s whole body hurts.

He chokes Steve’s name weakly, his voice broken, almost squeaking, too high and small for it to even be understood, but Steve just kisses him even though he can’t kiss back, because tears are streaming down his cheeks, over Steve’s fingers.

A small sob escapes Eddie, and Steve pulls him into a hug, running his hands over his head as he buries his face in Steve’s belly. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist, his hands pressing into the small of his back, against his warm skin. Steve’s hands are shaking as they run through his hair.

Eddie’s shoulders jerk as he cries, just once, and Steve’s hands smooth over them gently, sweetly, gathering his hair back.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve's voice says softly, and Eddie feels like he’s surfacing from under cold water, gasping for breath, like his lungs are breathing properly for the first time in his life.

“I love you too,” he chokes, lifting his head and looking up at him. His vision is blurry with tears. He can still see Steve’s smile. “I love you so much.”

Steve laughs softly, sniffling, leaning down to kiss him chastely.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, trying to breathe evenly, focusing on the feeling of Steve’s hands running over his cheeks, wiping his tears away. His head shakes slightly, but Steve doesn’t move his hands. He leans down to kiss his forehead.

“God,” Eddie exhales, holding his hips above the waistband of his jeans. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” Steve whispers. “You don’t have to apologize and you don’t have to thank me.”

He leans down and kisses his lips gently, murmuring a soft I love you, and Eddie reaches up, sliding his hands over Steve’s shoulders, over his cheeks, pulling him down to kiss him harder. After a moment he remembers that he’s sitting, and without pulling away, he stands, kicking his chair back noisily, one of his hands pushing into Steve’s hair as the other clutches at the small of his back. Steve’s legs wrap around his waist, and he tilts his head to kiss him deeper, holding Eddie’s face like he’ll fall apart if he lets go.

They’re both breathless and panting when they part. Steve’s fingers dance over the sides of Eddie’s neck, over his scars, making him shiver. (It’s a nice shiver.) They press their foreheads together, sharing breaths, eyes closed.

Steve pulls away after a moment, caressing Eddie’s cheeks.

“I’m not gonna get tired of you, Eddie,” he whispers. “You’re stuck with me, baby.”

Eddie laughs softly, sniffling and nuzzling his face into Steve’s cheek.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[pukanavis]

"Mystery on a Moonlit Cruise" Epilogue

Location: Sun Deck

Toi: Ani-sama, look at the way the HAMA port twinkles! It’s so pretty…

Ryui: I think your sparkle is even more radiant. Hey, take my jacket. I'll bet that the ocean breeze is making you cold.

Akuta: I always knew that food would taste a gazillion times better in a place like this.

Momiji: This really is an incredible spot. Thank you for showing us, Nanaki-kun!

Nanaki: Don’t mention it. It’d be a waste to hog this place all to myself.

(Even if this is the total opposite of the one-on-one vibe I was hoping for, I’m glad I managed to invite her either way…!)

Kafka: Definitely. The interior of the ship is stunning in it’s own right, but the sun deck is really something else ♪

Nanaki: Oh, Oguro-san—

Momiji: Kafka, you’re back. How’d your chat with the cruise ship director go?

Kafka: Since we’re all here, I suppose now’s a good time to break the news. I won’t ask you to stop eating, but lend me your ears, if you please.

While I was talking to the director, I pitched my proposal for a ‘Sailing to Dreamland’ project and he absolutely loved the idea!

Yukikaze: The combination of sleeping and cruising? That's quite the interesting pair you've come up with.

Kafka: My vision is to turn the time spent aboard into an experience unlike any other by utilising Netaro’s inventions to provide a premium level of relaxation. Pretty innovative idea, right?

Yachiyo: Waah…! That’s incredible, sir! Such a combination is something that us foolish commoners with our static brains stunted by preconceived ideas could never dream of conceptualising!

Yodaka: I see. I’m sure that this will be a warmly welcomed service for those living the fast-paced and taxing lifestyles of the modern age.

Ryui: Just making sure, but you’re not gonna be using Yowa’s inventions the same way he did tonight, are you?

Kafka: Of course not. What happened today was just one mistake away from becoming a far greater issue. I will see to it that nothing like this happens again.

That’s why I’m going to be asking Netaro to make some further improvements on his invention and to write up an in-depth manual! In it's current state, his creation will blindly put both humans and robots to sleep.

Netaro: This is the wo~rst. The invention I made to get out of work has become the very thing to dump a bucket of extra chores onto me~.

Ryui: Sounds like a good way to properly atone for your crimes to me.

Nanaki: Uh…excuse me, Ryui-san.

Ryui: What is it?

Nanaki: About earlier…

Ryui: (Earlier…?)

ーFlashback

Nanaki: If we keep digging into this, it might end up driving us mad with paranoia instead.

Ryui: …

If that’s how you feel then there’s nothing stopping you from sitting on your ass.

Nothing will change as long as you refuse to do anything. Things’ll stay the same as always, and you’ll get to keep hiding away from harm in that safe little bubble.

Nanaki: …Is there something wrong with that?

Ryui: ....Sigh.

Nanaki: I-Is something wrong?

Ryui: No, I just feel like that became a bigger deal than it needed to be.

Nanaki: Oh…I see. Still, I want to thank you.

Ryui: ‘s nothing worth thanking me for.

Muneuji: I’ve been thinking…since music was at the heart of this dilemma, wouldn't that mean that Nanamegi was closer than any of us to uncovering the truth?

Momiji: Oh, really…! It sounds like you were really busy while the rest of us were asleep…!

Nanaki: Oh, uh, it was nothing…besides, Ryui-san was the one who ultimately pressed Yowa-san into confessing everything himself anyway.

Yukikaze: Regardless, you picked up on things that completely slipped by the rest of us. That proves just how observant you are, Nanaki.

Muneuji: Indeed. You really take note of the little things, Nanamegi.

Nanaki: Muneuji…

Muneuji: Even on a daily basis, you translate the sounds Isotake makes, encourage Kinugawa to express his thoughts, and call out U~chan when he refuses to cooperate…

Yukikaze: It’s wonderful how much you care for your friends.

Nanaki: A-Anyone else would do the same!! But thank you!!

(These big brothers that’ll slap you in the chest with praise don’t play around…!!)

Momiji: But don’t people that care for others tend to hide themselves away more?

Nanaki: …!

Momiji: Nanaki-kun, I want you to know that you don’t have to be afraid to tell me anything!

Nanaki: Ah…of course…

Yukikaze: My caring little brother, you can tell me anything too.

Nanaki: T-Thank you.

(...I know I hold myself back, but it's not so much out of consideration for others as it is about being scared that I'll get hurt...)

…Anything, huh?

Kafka: I’m a little concerned…do you think we’ll be able to fall asleep again once we get back to the house?

Nanaki: (I don’t have the courage for that yet—)

Momiji: O-Oh no…I feel like I’m running on an entire night’s rest…

Nanaki: (...As much as I like your sleeping face, your smile really is my favourite.) 

I hope…I’ll be able to tell you someday.

Back | ★

[reineyday]

i’m back to say that magnificent was so so so good!! i love the uta mihawk interactions and how mihawk wants to protect her. i think my favorite part though was when mihawk was talking to shanks all nervous about whether he could call uta his daughter, but shanks answers with an “of course.”

this fic made me wonder why mihawk would do if he was present during the one piece film red… would he come along with the red crew, or would he already be there like the others (luffy, law, etc)?

awh 💖💖 thank u for your continued support! it means a lot :') and im happy you enjoyed the fic haha 🥰

UH, long answer short: i kind of have headcanons that position him before, during, and after the movie hahaha. sorry this reply turned out longer than i expected but my brain's got a mihawk & uta agenda goin' on rn. 😂 thanks again for the ask! ➡️

i actually have a bit of a draft going of mihawk seeing the "shanks destroys elegia" headline, seeing what's up, and finding uta, which i started before i wrote up magnificent lol. that's kinda where i picture him--doing something before everything happens, bc his curiosity makes him wonder why shanks would do smthg so uncharacteristic.

i recognize that's kind of a cop-out answer tho LOL so in regards to the movie itself in the canon(ish) timeline, i imagine he'd probably be there beforehand like luffy etc. he'd be there bc buggy and his crew got tickets and he was somehow dragged there against his will (similar to how law says he's chaperoning bepo but a lot more antagonistic about it aha), probably bc croc decides it might be beneficial to go, for whatever reason. probably scoping the crowd. (pls imagine the cross guild at uta's concert garnering Looks and standing out very obviously, but no one wants to say anything about it LOL even if the crowd is very anti-pirate. like, the strawhats and soen charlottes were there so. why not some ex-warlords?)

when there, he'd be like, "hey wait isn't that shanks's kid? didn't he say she left to sing? huh." and then maybe possibly even dial shanks on his baby den den about it bc if he's the type to bring luffy's poster all the way to an island, he'd probably try to ring up shanks. then he wouldn't be able to connect and clock that something is Up bc he knows shanks is just kinda hanging on his ship rn, on his way out from wano. i dont think he'd be with shanks along with his crew, and i dont think he'd bother going after the fact to help if he wasn't there to start with, which is why i think he'd already be there for separate reasons. ;P

anyways, i also have the start of an idea where the movie happens but uta survives, and shanks, stressed, is like, "hey, y'know what, everything's ramping up and everyone's trying to kill uta and she's still recovering from this wakeshroom shit so she'd probably be safer on land but the marines will be looking for all my known close associates... i'm gonna drop her off with mihawk. he trained those two other kids and the misanthropic fucker (affectionate) has probably found a new island by now anyways, since he isn't a warlord anymore. it should be fine. he'll say yes."

he sets out with his crew to follow mihawk's vivre card. benn and yasopp get the news coo and start laughing about something but they don't tell him, and whatever, he's going to see mihawk soon. he's definitely being led to land, which makes him feel vindicated, until it becomes more and more clear that the structure standing out on the shore is a huge big top tent, and there's an unfortunately very familiar flag flying, and shanks is like, "oh god, don't tell me," and then promptly has to dodge a flying fist and yelling about how he isn't welcome here and what the fuck is mihawk doing with buggy???? and benn and yasopp, having seen the cross guild poster in the news and hidden it from shanks, are laughing so hard at him while he deals with this momentary crisis where two completely different parts of his life have seem to connected without his knowing about it.

(buggy is happy to see uta bc for all that they fight shanks and buggy did make some sort of effort with their brotherhood every now and then so he knows uta and she calls him "uncle bugs"!; mihawk ofc says "yes" to taking care of her bc he feels qualified to handle young adults now lol (he says this with an air of gravitas that is hilarious when considering how he interacts with zoro and perona, which is stoically and poorly); uta makes fun of her dad relentlessly for not having made any moves on the guy he's been in a situationship with since she was a literal child; and croc comes home from a meeting to find international pop sensation uta (that the news said tried to take over the world during her concert or something???) reclined on their couch drinking tea. wild day for everyone.)

[wwrityjess]

Your phone rings. This is the 44th time tonight. You didn't know she would take it this badly. You just said you needed some space, considering you just moved halfway across the country. She didn't like that you "decided" to move away from her, but it wasn't even your choice. You got a scholarship at a high-end college, you couldn't turn something like that down.

Your phone rings. This is the 45th time tonight. You knew she was a little obsessive, but it had never been this bad. There had been a few times where you caught her looking at your ex's social media, even though you had never told her any of their names. It was kind of creepy the first time, but you had gotten used to it by the fifth.

Your phone rings. This is the 46th time tonight. It's… your mom? You scramble to pick up your phone. You're too late, she went to voicemail. "Hey honey, your girlfriend came by just now. She said your phone might have been lost, so I decided to try calling you myself. If you find it again, you should call her back. She also asked for your new address, so I gave it to her. I'm surprised you hadn't given it to her yourself. Anyway, sleep well tonight baby!"

Your phone rings. This is the 47th time tonight. Why did your mom give your address away so easily? I mean, she was your girlfriend, but still. Your parents didn't know her that well. She had been over for dinner once, maybe twice. You found a photo album she stole from them a few days after. Some of the photos were missing. You found them months later in her closet, with hearts drawn around your face and any other people in the photos either scribbled out or burned away. You never returned that photo album.

Your phone vibrates. A message. "hey bby you wont pick up yr phone so im comin over to yr new place dont wait up for me :3c" What? It's at least a 9 hour drive from there to here. She can't be serious about coming over, can she? "i know u prob dont believe me so heres proof" A picture of the inside of her car. Your address has been set as the destination on her navigation. In the corner you can see a knife and rope on her passenger seat.

It's 9 hours before your (ex-)girlfriend arrives. You know you can't stop her. She is coming whether you call her or not. You really fucked it up this time. What do you do now? Just wait for her to arrive? Just let her in? Prepare breakfast for her? Talk it out? You don't think she'll be in a talking mood when she has just driven 9 hours because you wouldn't talk to her. Run away? No use, she won't give up that easily. Hide? She will tear you entire apartment to pieces to find you. Maybe sleep will clear your head. If you get a good 7-8 hours, you still have more than an hour to figure it out.

It's 8 hours before your (ex-)girlfriend arrives. You have trouble falling asleep. Your brain keeps making up scenarios of what will happen when she arrives. She'll stab you the moment she sees you. She's gonna tie you up and use you for her pleasure before stabbing you. She's gonna tie you up and drive the two of you off a bridge. You can't sleep like this. In your bathroom, you look in your medicine cabinet for your melatonin gummies. You take two, and then a couple more for good measure. You set an alarm on your phone for 7 hours from now.

It's 1 hour before your (ex-)girlfriend arrives. Your alarm rings. "Sleep well baby?" she whispers in your ear. You try to scream, but only a muffled sound comes out. You have been gagged. "Don't worry babe, nobody will hear us." she says while crawling on top of you. The knife shimmers in her hand as she lifts it up above her head. You try to push her off, but your hands are bound above your head. "Then again, nobody will be hearing from you ever again." she says as she thrusts the knife down. You close your eyes, anticipating the sharp pain in your chest. But it never comes. You cautiously open your eyes, the knife stopped mere millimeters from your chest. "Did you really think it would be that simple? That you would escape from me that easily?" she grins. Her teeth are surprisingly sharp, almost canine in nature. "I wouldn't use such an impersonal method. I want it to be much more INTIMATE." she says, lunging forward with her mouth agape.

It's 4 hours before your (ex-)girlfriend arrives. You jump up. It was just a dream. A nightmare. You take a few minutes to catch your breath. You grab a glass of water. After a couple more minutes you fall asleep again.

It's 1 hour before your (ex-)girlfriend arrives. At least, it should be. The doorbell is ringing. You look through the peephole. She's here. You cautiously open the door. "Hello sleepyhead, did you sleep well?" she asks with an innocent smile. "I've been standing at your door for five minutes already, I almost thought you hid from me or ran away or something." she laughs. You awkwardly laugh back. You did wanna hide from her or run away, she just arrived before you could. "Anyway," she pushes past you and walks inside. "We have something to talk about." she sits down on your bed and puts her bag on the ground. "D-do you want something to drink?" you stutter. She seems way too calm for someone who just did what she did. "Oh, I'd love a cup of tea right about now, babe." You hurry to the kitchen and turn the electronic kettle on. "While that's going, why don't you sit down next to me and we can talk, honey?" she pats the bed next to her.

You sheepishly sit down next to her, not wanting to give her any reason to freak out again. She puts her hand on your thigh. "Good. Now, why did you send me that mean message? Why did you say you 'needed space'?" she spits those words out with such vitriol as she grips your thigh. "I-I just thought t-that it might be b-better to stop dating if w-we live so far apart, is all." you stutter. You don't want to say anything that might piss her off. "I don't mean that we c-can't date again in the f-future if, I mean when I m-move back again." you let out a nervous chuckle. "See? That wasn't so hard now, was it, honey?" she loosens her grip on your thigh. "Now we can actually talk about solutions. If you think we can't date when we live so far apart, I'll just move out here with you." She grabs your hand. "Y-you would move out h-here?" Fuck. You had hoped she would see your point and leave you be. You didn't think she would move here to be with you. Her smile drops for a second before she quickly recovers. You think she might have sensed your disappointment.

The kettle turns off. "W-what kind of tea did you want, b-babe?" You say while grabbing two teacups. "Earl Gray." she says it so matter-of-factly while zipping open her bag. You start pouring. "Did you want a-anything with the tea, honey?" "No, I'm fine." She crept up on you, now standing right behind you. You feel a prick in your neck, and before you know it your head begins to spin. "Sleep tight, baby. I've got you." She whispers in your ear before you black out.

You wake up on the backseat of her car. You try to say something, but your mouth has been gagged. You try to move, but your arms and legs are tied together, and to each other. "Oh, you're awake, honey? Good timing, we're almost there." Almost where? Where is she driving you? As if she can read your mind, she replies "At my family's cottage in the woods, of course. Nobody comes here really, but my uncle has owned it for decades now. He asked the family to help fix it up a few years ago." You had forgotten about that, she was gone and busy all summer that year. You thought she might've been cheating, you just didn't buy the whole 'my uncle asked us to help fix up his abandoned cottage in the woods' routine.

"We're here!" She announces proudly. The car stops. You slide off the backseat and onto the floor due to how abrupt it was. "Oh, Honey…" she has opened the rear doors and is just standing there, giggling at the predicament you've found yourself in. She lifts you back onto the backseat. "Now, it's been a long and exhausting drive. If I free your legs, will you be good and walk inside with me?" you quickly nod your head, hoping to run the moment she helps you stand up. She cuts your legs loose with her knife. She grabs your arms and helps you out the car and onto your feet. You lunge forward, but your legs don't cooperate. You instead faceplant into the soft forest dirt. The stuff she dosed you with must still be in your system. "Aw, honey. Did you think I would cut you loose if you still had a chance to escape?" she whispers into your ear as she lifts you back up. As she opens the front door, she looks you in the eye and says "We're gonna live here together forever. And you're gonna love it, voluntarily or not."