#also I'm kinda on the edge for the next chapter.. everything is going too well..

[winterrbluess]

The trio is back!

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER FOUR: TWO NOTES AND A HEART DOWN

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✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane and you finally read the note. (wc: 9.4k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of sa (nothing happens) like its not brought up AT ALL it's insinuated like the tiniest bit, mean!eddie, kinda asshole-ish? pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

✦ authors note — sorry for the wait but i hope a 9.4k chapter makes up for it omg! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! ive been struggling with this chapter A LOT. its not at all how i wanted to write it but i was just tired of holding it off :// so hope u guys enjoy and this is like the last fluffy chapter lmao its all angst from here on (well kinda)

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His nose skimmed against yours, a mere breath away from the temptation of your soft lips, everything you’ve been wanting on the tip of your fingers.

But you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter if he was sorry or if it was casual. Chrissy still existed. And he still kissed her in front of you.

Friends, is what he promised. And this was going to ruin it.  

“Please, look at me,” he pleaded, you could hear the desperation in his voice. Your eyes blinked open slowly, how close he was to you had your eyes widened. 

"I-I don't even know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "I feel like...I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind, and I don’t even know what just happened,” he said in a strained voice. 

“I-I just… I look at you, and I’m absolutely terrified.” He gulped. “It terrifies me that—” He stopped himself before he could spew out more. 

It terrifies me how much I would do for you, he wishes to say, but he doesn’t, he can’t. 

“I can’t—we shouldn’t be doing this." He stammered, quick to lean away from you.

“I-I know” You agreed hesitantly, because you knew this was a bad idea. But your stomach burned at the thought that he wanted to not kiss you because of Chrissy. Was he actually going to be with her now? Did he lie about things being casual? 

“Do you…” You took a deep breath, “do you like her?” Your voice was strained, it was barely above a whisper, but Eddie heard you loud and clear. 

Your heart rate picked up quicker than you intended it to, you leaned further away from him, your mouth flooded with a bitter taste. 

“No!” His eyes widened, he answered it so quickly that the idea that he was lying sank further into you. 

“No, I-I don’t know… I just-” He breathed. “We agreed to being friends… We should keep it that way, and I can’t keep doing this,” he stammered. “I need to stop hanging on to the past.” 

“but, fuck. Each time, I try to, you just… prevent it!” He admitted, without realizing the weight his words held, your brows pinched quickly. 

“I prevent it?” You enunciated with an exasperated chuckle. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mumbled under your breath as your body turned away from him, elbows holding onto the edge of the pool as you swiftly lifted yourself up. 

Eddie just looked at you, baffled. “Do you realize how unbelievable you are?” You spat, looking down on him with your hair still wet and your dress uncomfortably stuck to your body. 

“What are you talking about?” He gave you a puzzled look.

“Nevermind,” you huffed, facing away from him.

Eddie groaned, following you as he exited the pool swiftly. “Why do you even care?” He asked, breathless. Taking another step closer toward you. 

“I don’t,” you lied with a gulp. You were a bad liar. And Eddie knew that. 

“You don’t?” He narrowed his gaze, giving you a second chance to open up, but he knew you were too stubborn.

“I don’t.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

“That…” He paused, “was a mistake.” You could feel that horrible ache in your chest return. Sure it was a bad idea, but a mistake?

Did he really hate you that much?

“What does that mean?” You swallowed hard. Your heart was breaking the more he spoke, you wanted nothing more than to shut him up. 

“It means we-I shouldn’t have done that,” he corrected himself with a tinge of disappointment in his tone. But what exactly did he mean by that? Did he mean that the almost-kiss was a mistake because it could ruin your potential friendship? Or did he mean it in a way that suggested he liked Chrissy?

Those words were enough to have your heart drop into your gut; your whirlwind of thoughts were mocking you, the idea that Eddie had a chance of liking her was eating away at you, and all you could do was stand there and watch it all unravel. 

You parted your lips to speak, but all that could come out was a weak mutter of, “okay.” You turned your back on him quickly, picking up your jacket from the ground. You put it on in a struggle, fighting back the tears that were pricking your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a puzzled look, and you refused to look back at him before your feet picked up. He didn’t seem to realize why his answer truly crushed you.

“I-I’m going home.” Your voice was barely audible; there was a lump sitting in your throat, causing your breathing to stammer.

“With what exactly?” He huffed, following behind you. 

“I don’t know,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. “I’ll figure it out… I always do, don’t I?” You shrugged. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t let you walk alone like this. You could catch a cold, or something could happen to you, Pinky." His voice was laced with concern, brows furrowed as he hurried to your side.

“I don’t care,” you muttered with an emotionless expression.

“I do!” 

“Do you?”

“Of course I do!” He spat. “Please, don’t do something stupid and reckless. I can take you home,” he mumbled with a huff. There was no fucking way he’d let you walk home alone. 

“And I have a towel in my car,” he added, you slightly huffed. It was chilly, your dress was soaking, and he was right. There was no way you could get home without him. At least until you were willing to freeze off or get hauled by whatever was roaming in the forest. 

You followed him to the car with a simple nod, Eddie still failed to notice why you had gotten so upset, not realizing the implications his words held. 

-

By the time you got into the car, you were shivering, faintly muttering a ‘Thanks’ to Eddie as he wrapped the towel around you, brows creasing with worry, but he didn’t know what to say to you. 

Usually, he wouldn’t have let it go; he would’ve tried to get it out of you and ask you if you were okay, but when you were this upset, it was no use. 

The ride was silent except for the faint sound of Eddie’s mixtape filling the space between the two of you. He had asked if you had anything specific you wanted to listen to, but you shut him off with a faint shake of your head. 

Your heart was aching. Like he had just ripped open your chest and taken it without a care, not noticing how tight he had been squeezing and releasing it. As if he were toying with it. 

And you felt nauseous. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t get a chance to eat all day or because of that mocking thought in your head that told you that Eddie wanted Chrissy.  

Once your stomach grumbled, your question was quickly answered, your cheeks heated up as you crossed your arms against your chest in an attempt to shut it up. Eddie gave you a slight chuckle. “Munchies?” He chuckled. “Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asked with a reassuring smile. 

“I just wanna go home,” you grumbled as your gaze refused to meet his. “C’mon,” he muttered with a huff. “Do you even have anything to eat at home?” He asked all-knowingly. You shook your head, you didn’t; your fridge was empty; it was late, so you couldn’t get any groceries; not to mention, your messy kitchen was in no condition to cook. 

“Are burgers still your favorite food?” Your face unintentionally lit up at that; he was definitely thinking about Benny’s, and your mouth-watered just at the idea of their cheeseburgers. 

“Benny’s?” You asked with an involuntary smile on your cheeks, and Eddie swallowed a deep breath. That curve of your goddamn plump lips was driving him crazy. 

“Yeah, do you want to go?” He muttered slowly. “O-okay,” you mumbled. 

First the Wheeler House, then Billy’s stupid camaro, then the pool, this goddamn van, that mixtape, and now Benny's... this whole day had been a nostalgic mind fuck for you. You couldn’t complain, though; no matter how upset his words made you, you were still so pathetically happy to spend some time with him, ecstatic that he didn’t let you go. 

And so was Eddie. That’s why he had been holding his tongue back; he wanted to know why you cared so much about Chrissy. Sure, what she did with Billy was horrible. But it didn’t make sense. There had to be something he didn’t know.  

By the time you guys arrived at Benny's, it was past midnight, so, the place wasn’t packed, of course, but surprisingly, there were still a lot of tables besides the two of you. Eddie let out an ‘Aha!’ sound once his eyes caught the booth that was nestled in the corner. 

The same one the two of you always shared. The white light loomed over its padded, dark maroon seat, and you slid onto it with a huff. Your senses were immediately greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of toasted buns. The air was infused with a disgusting smell of frying oil, but all of it smelled irresistible to your growling stomach. 

Once the two of you got situated, Benny was quick to rush to your side. “Welcome to Benny’s, what can I get you—” 

"Oh my god!" Benny's eyes widened, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Didn't expect to see you! Jesus, how long has it been?" He chuckled, his memory working overtime.

A smile adorned your face, Benny had always been nice to you and to Eddie, giving you one too many free meals, always telling you that it was not an issue despite your protests, knowing of your absentee parents, just like the rest of the town did. 

“Very long,” you added with a chuckle, “missed your cheeseburgers.” You pouted. 

"Yeah?" Benny's excitement was palpable. "Mmhmm, nowhere in New York does it as good as Benny's," you hummed sweetly.

"Now, you're just butterin' me up!" Benny dismissed with a chuckle, eliciting a warm smile from you.

"But, New York, huh?" Benny inquired, raising an intrigued brow. "I've seen this one around, a lot, even last week." His finger pointed toward Eddie, prompting your brows to furrow.

Last week? 

“So that's why you weren’t with him.” He added, realization dawning on his face. Eddie was quick to shoot a painful gaze toward you, one that almost said, ‘no, she wasn’t with me because she left me’, You didn’t know how it was possible to share a language just through your shared gaze, but it had you physically gulping. 

“Uh-uh, yeah,” you mumbled, your gaze avoiding Eddie’s. 

“I gotta say though…” He leaned down, almost like he was telling the two of you a secret, “It’s really nice seeing the two of you together, again.” Benny said with a sly smirk.

“‘Bout damn time y’all got together,” He teased further. 

Your eyes widened in unison, both sets of cheeks warming before you spoke up. 

“Oh, no—” You were quick to dismiss with your hands.

“We’re not—” Eddie joined in your protests.

“So, what can I get for you, lovebirds?” He hummed casually, ignoring both of your protests. Your eyes locked before both of you shyly avoided each other’s gaze. “The usual?” 

“Uh-uh, yeah," Eddie grumbled, suddenly more interested in the wooden table. 

When Benny turned toward you, “same for her, but with extra pickles.” Eddie said almost automatically, your brows pinched together and Eddie mentally cursed himself, “I-I mean… if that’s still your order…” His words smushed together, cheeks quick to heat crimson red. 

“It-it is," you mumbled. 

“Alright, comin’ right up,” he threw a wink at the two of you, clueless of the awkwardness apparent in the air. 

It was stupid, all this back and forth all day. You weren’t kids anymore; you should have been able to just be friends and hang out, not fight. Yet, somehow, it had spiraled into a seemingly impossible situation.

Talking it out wasn’t going to do anything. If the two of you wanted any chance to salvage whatever your relationship was, you needed to talk about the bigger picture; everything needed to be spilled out. But neither of you wanted to do that. 

Unspoken feelings were lingering, and none of you knew when they would boil over. Both of you desperately wanted to cling to the promise of being friends and make the most of it. 

There were a lot of things you could say to him; you could choose to talk about Chrissy, you could choose to talk about L.A.; hell, you could choose to talk about his nerdy game, but your curiosity got the best of you, and before you could help it, the words spilled out of your mouth. “What were you doing here last week?” 

Eddie was almost taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be curious about him again after icing him out for so long. “I like coming here,” he shrugged. “Whenever I’m in Hawkins, I drop by, you know, to write some stuff.”

“Here?” Your face scrunched, finding it hard to believe that a greasy diner could ever be inspiring. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “most of our second album was produced in this bad boy.” 

"Are you serious?” Your brows raised, “and the rest of the band is just okay following you here?" You narrowed your gaze playfully, your hands finding a resting place on the worn wooden table.

Eddie’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Yeah, actually, they’ve gotten pretty used to it,” he confessed, “you-uh… I don’t know if you ever got to listen to the second one-”

"I did," you interrupted, voice resolute.

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

Eddie hesitated before asking, "What did you think of it?"

“Great record, are you kidding me? It had such a unique sound… You know, like, a timeless quality that makes it stand out?” You said excitedly, and he nodded with a raised brow, “that much?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’m not kidding, Eddie. You know how I don’t pull punches with music; if it wasn’t good, I’d tell you in a heartbeat.”

"Which one's your favorite?" Eddie asked, his curiosity piqued.

You pondered for a second before answering, "oh, definitely Aurora!"

Eddie's shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead as he leaned closer, listening intently. "I mean, 'I just kinda died for you, you just kinda stared at me' is genius," you said, your voice filled with admiration. You didn't dare look him in the eyes.

"And really, really sad," you continued, a hint of melancholy in your tone. "The idea that you could give the whole world to someone, to the point where you describe it as dying, and they don’t even see it... it sounds awfully painful." You gulped, your eyes fixed on the worn wooden table. You weren’t stupid; you knew why it was named Aurora; you knew what the lyrics were alluding to.

His car. The same car that the two of you drove around in. The same car drove the two of you out of Hawkins. 

You knew he liked you way before he let you on, and you wish you knew. 

Maybe if you weren’t dating that douchebag, maybe if Eddie said something sooner, maybe if everything that happened when the two of you left didn’t happen… Maybe just maybe, the two of you’d be together now. 

Maybe if the timing was just right, it wouldn’t be like this; he wouldn’t have whatever he had with Chrissy. You wouldn’t have been in New York. 

But what were you supposed to say? What could you say that would change all of this? Even if you told him about what Chrissy did, even if you explained why you had to leave him in L.A., there was no use. The truth couldn't turn back time. You two had ventured down different paths, and it was painfully evident.

He wasn’t the Eddie you knew, and you weren’t the Pinky he knew; it was too fucking late. 

Eddie's mouth hung open in surprise; he hadn't expected you to delve into the song's meaning like this. Aurora was one of the heaviest songs he had ever written, and he held a special attachment to it. The label and the rest of the band had embraced it, which was surprising since they usually rejected his heartbreak songs, wanting more of that unbridled rage. 

He didn’t answer you; there was a weird tension between the two of you again, so you diffused it with, “but kinda lame that you decided to name a song after your car,” while eyeing Eddie to gauge his reaction.

Eddie chuckled. “Oh, bite me,” he teased, "but yeah, that one was also written here, in that same spot you were sitting.”

“Shut up!” You said, hand playfully reaching out to nudge him. 

"And to your question... I can't tell you why I was here last week," Eddie confessed, his voice carrying a hint of mystery.

Your stomach twisted at that, and you didn't know how many more punch-in-the-gut revelations you could handle today. "Why- uhh- why not?" You asked hesitantly, your words stuttering over simple syllables.

"Because then I'd be spoiling the note, dummy," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A deep breath of relief escaped your stomach, and you chuckled. God, he was a douche. "Wait... so does that mean... I have a song in my pocket?"

"Not exactly."

"I'm the first one to see it, huh?" You asked excitedly, hand teasingly dipping into your pocket.

"You and the rest of the band," Eddie huffed, offering a sheepish grin.

You gave him a quick glare. “You know I could leak this to the press and make millions, right? No more dealing with rude customers, and no more nine to five hours stuck in a record shop?”

He narrowed his gaze. "You can't get shit for that," he mockingly retorted.

"What?" You frowned.

"Yeah, it's basically like the first chorus and some gibberish notes, it's worthless," Eddie explained.

You pouted. "Aww, damn it."

"I'm kidding, I'm excited to read it,” you reassured with a wink, “you know… Maybe I could give you some notes on it? Review it?" You suggested.

“Didn’t know you were a musician.”

“Rude!” You huffed, “I may not be a musician, rockstar. But I sell records for a living. I can promise you, I listened to many more records than you did this year.” You said with a playful smirk.

"How's that like?" Eddie asked curiously, his deep brown eyes resembling longing and curiosity.

You leaned back against the cushioned booth, letting out a wistful sigh. "Working at a record store? A rollercoaster,” you chuckled, “lame in some ways, but also incredibly fascinating. New York's a whole different world compared to Hawkins."

Eddie couldn't help but study your face as you spoke. He noticed the faint traces of insecurity in the way you held yourself—an air of loneliness that came with moving away from everyone you knew and your family leaving you.

"But also, it took me a while to get used to it," you continued. "Nancy and Jonathan used to visit me a lot; they've really helped me adjust.”

“And you know, of course, Robin and Steve, too,” you murmured.

Eddie’s brows shot up at that. So everyone but him. 

It was a sting he couldn't quite shake, burning at his skin, that you decided to abandon him but were fine with everyone else, including Steve. 

Your absence in his life had left a void he couldn't fill, ever.

Yet, here you were, replacing him like it was nothing. 

Eddie knew he had no right to be jealous; you two were just friends, right? But it ate away at him; that feeling seeped through him, even though you were never his to begin with.

His face burned, and his jaw clenched involuntarily. He could almost feel the taste of bitter jealousy in his mouth, considering how it was overtaking his senses. “Steve?” He questioned; gaze seeping through you, an unbrittled rage ready to tip at any moment. 

You didn’t seem to notice it, though. For someone who was usually very perceptive, it flew right by you—that slight tick in his jaw, the way his fists curled, the storm raging beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” you murmured, his head turned away from you, gaze fixed on anything but your face. The other corners of the burger place was suddenly very interesting to him as he grappled with his own emotions.

“It’s pretty crowded in here, right?” you remarked, trying to draw Eddie into the conversation and gauge his mood.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie replied, his gaze remained distant, thoughts elsewhere.

Concern etched across your face as you pressed further, “Uh, are you okay?” Something seemed to be bothering Eddie, and you couldn't pin-point what it was.

“‘M fine,” he dismissed with a wave of his hands. 

He had to distract you and do something else because he was being super fucking weird, and you weren’t dumb; you could read him like a book. 

He didn’t want that awkwardness or tension to reappear; he wanted to talk to you freely, he couldn’t let his insecurities ruin this for him. 

Eddie’s attention turned back to you,  “is that what you want to do with your life?” his brows raised, “The record store, I mean.” He didn’t want to sound rude, he just wanted to know more.

“I don’t know… I never had much time to think about it.” You gave him a small smile, shaking your head gently, “also, I can’t really afford to think about it anyway.”

“But what do you want to do?” He probed.

“Anything concerning art… I mean I’d love to be a tattoo artist, too. That’s the likely path I’m going down, dunno if the salary is good enough, though.” You shrugged, “but you know what I’d love to be?” Eddie leaned closer, his eagerness clear. 

“What?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Someone came in like a month ago, this bearded guy with lots of tattoos… We had a new album coming to our store that day, and he wanted to see them,” you mumbled with a warm smile, eyes glistening with a dreamy glow. “Then he told me about how he was a tattoo artist, but helped make some of the cover art for that album, and then something just like clicked in me.”

“I used to draw with the hope that maybe it could connect with someone, you know, like it did with me… I spent half of my childhood drawing and listening to music as an outlet. Whenever my parents left, whenever they were absent in my life despite ‘being there’, or whenever they had a screaming match, plates thrown at each other, the first thing I did was sketch, anything, on the notebook.” You mumbled, “or I listened to a record, and I let it consume me, in the hopes that it would drive me away from reality, diffuse the pain, even for a split second, and it worked,” you said with a simple smile. 

Eddie hung on to your every word, his gaze never wavering, admiring that creative spirit shining in you. “Art and music shift the world in the best way possible, and maybe it is dramatic but it also saves lives in a way, you know, by helping you get through something, or making you forget. And that’s my biggest wish… to have my art be important to someone, to make them feel like they’re not alone, in any way possible. So when I saw how that guy combined music and art like that, I thought, this is fucking perfect, this is what I need to do.” 

Eddie’s brows pinched together, “why haven’t you done it?” he asked, his voice a soothing lilt that could melt any doubts away. He could listen to you talk about your passions for hours, the way your eyes glistened with hope, that little quirk of your brow did when you found something interesting, it was heavenly to him. 

“C’mon Eds, be realistic,” you murmured sadly. “Half the people that work for a good record company or with a good band have fancy art degrees, they have connections, they have the money, the time to do it. No one’s going to want a nobody who doesn’t even have a college degree from a small town.” Your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Bullshit,” he spat quickly, dismissing the way you so quickly diminished yourself, “I was the trailer trash of Hawkins, and look what happened,” he encouraged in a harsh but also a warm manner, leaning closer. 

“Yeah, but you’re also a guy, Eddie.” Your voice wavered as you pointed out, “t-they have different expectations for women who don’t have those connections, or don’t come from like insanely rich parents… If you know what I mean,” you said with disgusted frowning upon your face, chill running down your spine. 

Eddie immediately picked it up, his face growing to one of concern, “W-wait-” his voice quivered, the color drained from his face quickly, you immediately knew what he was implying and shook your head, “no, no, not me! But I heard lots of stories in New York, it’s just disgusting,” your face scrunched. 

“That’s awful,” Eddie’s jaw clenched in anger, he knew there were a lot of scumbags in the industry, and it pissed him off that he could do nothing about it. He already felt guilty enough that he didn’t realize what a narcissistic asshole Billy really was, he wanted to help any way he could. 

And then, like a sudden light bulb went off in his head, an idea illuminated his mind. “Have I ever told you that our record company is in need of a new art director?” He pouted teasingly. 

Your eyebrows shot up as a giggle escaped your lips. "You're funny," you said, playfully skeptical.

Eddie, ever earnest, replied, "I'm serious."

“I-I can't do that," you said shyly, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress.

Eddie leaned in, and retorted with a, “and why not?"

“It-it feels wrong, and you don’t even know if I’d be good-“ you hesitated, not fully convinced if this was a good idea.

“Bullshit,” Eddie countered firmly, a small smile gracing his lips. “I know how great your art is, and I know how much you care about music, the way you describe it is exactly the reason why I love it so much.” Eddie always took you seriously and encouraged you about your dreams, no matter how unrealistic it was. 

“You know what you said earlier about how you wanted your art to matter to someone?” You nodded, eyes glistening with hope. 

“Your art is important to me, Pinky. The ones you sketched in your notebooks, is what helped me write some of my lyrics. The drawings you made when you were bored in class, the ones I have hung up on my wall still at the trailer… they mean so much to me,” he said in a hushed voice, he dragged his arm on the table, quick to point to the tattoo on his forearm. “This tattoo, is what helped with Corroded Coffin’s symbol bats, you do realize that, right?”

Skeptical, you scoffed, "you guys always had bats as your thing."

 “True,” he agreed, “but your design helped bring it to life.” He shrugged, “and you know the band better than anyone, maybe you could help us with our next album cover, too. I don’t think I could find someone more perfect for the job.” Eddie shrugged and smiled warmly.

“But-”

Your protests were gently silenced by Eddie, who insisted with a soft determination, “No but’s, just say yes, please.” His voice was sweet, sickingly sweet, you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

“I mean I’ll just have a talk with them, show them some of your stuff, so, no promises. But I can be very, very persuasive,” he teased, a wink thrown your way.

You stammered, the excitement bubbling within you. "Y-you'd do that for me?” He nodded surely, “even after everything that happened?" Your tone was muffled, laced with insecurity.

"Anything for you," Eddie reassured as he leaned closer, that familiar, small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

With your heart aflutter, you finally agreed, excitement breaking through the barriers of your insecurities. "If—if you really are okay with it, I-I'd love to."

“Of course,” he affirmed. 

“Alright!” Benny chimed in, interrupting the two of you. “Two cheeseburgers with a side of fries, and two milkshakes.” He hummed, settling the food in front of both sets of hungry eyes.

“Enjoy, lovebirds!” He said with a smirk, sauntering away to the kitchen. 

“Thank you!” Both of you exclaimed with happiness as you dug into the food.

As you munched on the crispy fries, you admired the other tables, each one occupied by a slice of life that you couldn't help but find intriguing.

One table was for a family of four. All you could hear was the distressed children, their whining echoed through the restaurant. The parents looked drained, faces etched with exhaustion as they juggled plates of half-eaten food, desperately trying to calm down and distract their kids.

Another table was occupied by a couple who was in a heated argument. The man wore a scowl, voice raised in anger, while the woman looked like she was about to cry, her eyes pleading for understanding.

But the last table was the one that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, it brought a smile to your face. “Oh my god, look,” you said in a hushed voice, gaze pointing toward the booth that was nested in the far right corner.

Eddie was already face-first into his food, “later, ’m eating.” He grumbled. You poked your tongue out at him playfully. “Jesus… Forgot how grumpy you get when you are hungry,” you hummed, flinging a fry in his direction, causing him to pause mid-bite and chuckle.

“Oh, you don't wanna play that game with me, sweetheart,” he teased, dangling a fry in front of your face.

You grinned, your eyes dancing with excitement. “Just one look, and I’ll be out of your curly unbrushed hair, Munson,” you joked with a giggle.

His eyes rolled quickly, “you won’t stop until you get what you want, will you?” He asked with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You shook your head with a giggle. “Fine,” he huffed jokingly, dipping the fry in his hand into the vanilla milkshake, making an exaggerated sound of satisfaction as he devoured it.

“Gross.” You commented with mock disgust, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Just tell me which table.” Eddie leaned in, his curiosity piqued as your gaze moved toward the couple at the adjacent booth. The girl was wearing a plaid mini skirt, expertly paired with a statement crop-top covered by an oversized leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders, likely borrowed from the curly-haired brunette sitting on the opposite side of the booth.

Her head was thrown back, and laughter danced in her eyes as she hung on to every word of the story he was telling. The curly haired brunette guy had a graphic band-tee and a guitar pick adorning his neck. Mascara smudged and eyes all red; you knew they probably had a long night. 

It reminded him of something, or rather, someone. 

He looked at you with his brows scrunched up, and you replied to him with a giggle. Both of you were thinking the same thing. 

“That’s fuckin’ weird.” Eddie mumbled with a mouthful of his juicy cheeseburger. “Are those our… doppelgangers?” 

“Right?” You almost mirrored him, taking a bite from your cheeseburger as you leaned further on your elbows. “What do you think their story is?”

“Uhhh-” Eddie grumbled, “us from five years ago?” His mouth partially obscured by the burger as he chewed thoughtfully, a furrow in his brow. 

“Such a detailed story!” You mocked. He couldn't help but notice how the dim diner lighting accentuated your features—plump lips looking so soft from the way you frustratingly groaned—which brought an unintentional smile to his face.

You were so breathtakingly pretty; even when you were munching on a burger, he was absolutely whipped.

Eddie shrugged, that shit-eating grin still on his face. He looked you dead in the eye before he took another big bite, stuffing more fries into his mouth. 

“Fine, I’ll give them a story,” you narrowed your gaze, “and you can keep eating your gross milkshake dipped fries,” you mocked, straightening up your back as you leaned closer, licking your lips before you spoke.

“So the girl… she’s pretty, like really, really pretty.” You said with a sly grin, your gaze now focused on the couple in question; if he wasn’t going to participate, then you could just drag this further. 

“And there’s the guy." You gestured toward the other booth, gaze narrowing as you turned back to Eddie. “He’s just... there, I guess, kind of looks like a douche,” you mocked, mouth scrunching as you looked at Eddie all-knowingly, head tilted to the side.

Eddie scoffed, responding with a lighthearted yet passionate defense of himself. “He looks like a total stud,” he grumbled in between bites with a smirk, “and that band-tee? He’s so fuckin’ cool.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenged, “I think he’s a total nerd, bet he’s telling his dorky D&D stories to his best friend.” 

He stuck his tongue out, a carefree grin on his face, “Hey! You said you loved my campaigns!” He exclaimed and playfully tossed a soggy fry at you. 

You gasped dramatically, reaching for another fry to retaliate before Eddie’s unreadable expression had you frozen. “Shit, I totally forgot, what time is it?”

“Oh, you’re not getting away with that, Munson, we’re in a full fledged food war now,” you teased, holding a fry aloft, your gaze narrowing in mock seriousness.

“No, no, I’m serious.” Eddie insisted, causing you to huff in response. You turned your back to try to read the old-fashioned clock that stood on the wall. 

“Uh… 1.15, why?” you replied, your brows furrowed in confusion, trying to understand him.

“Shit! Shit, shit!” He cursed, getting up quickly while he started gathering his things.

“What?” You asked with a puzzled look.

“Wayne!” He exclaimed making you furrow your brows.

“What about Wayne?” 

“I promised to pick him up after his shift,” he explained with a sigh. “You know, since I kinda have the car.”

"Well, when did it end?” you inquired, still calm as you took another bite from your burger.

He eyed you with urgency. “15 minutes ago,” grumbling, he shoved whatever was left of his food into his mouth. 

“So, I’m going to see Wayne?” You asked with a smile. 

“If we don’t hurry up, you’re going to see me dead,” he exclaimed dramatically, making you roll your eyes. 

“You need to inhale all of that, now!” He screeched, and you looked up at him with a pout. 

“Now!” He snapped, hands clapping in front of your face. 

“Okay, okay, jesus!” You groaned, taking a deep breath, before you shoved a generous handful of fries in your mouth. 

-

When Eddie led you to the car, all you could think about was how Wayne would react—would he be mad at you? Would he be disappointed? 

Goosebumps appeared when a chill ran down your spine, you didn’t know if you could handle it. Wayne had been a staple in your life up until you left, he fed you, he listened to you when you needed it, he gave you a place to sleep, and he always reassured you that you were always welcome in their home.

And you didn’t even bother to say goodbye to him. Not that you didn’t want to; it’s because you couldn’t. When you and Eddie left, it was in a hurry. You had no time to tell anyone, not even Eddie told Wayne until you two were half-way there to California. 

But it still didn’t stop your guilt, it still didn’t help the way your stomach twisted at the mention of his name. 

Your feet picked up quickly as the thoughts filled your head, only stopping when Eddie called out to you. “I have to tell you somethin’” Eddie mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. 

A huff of air was quick to escape your lips, you knew it was too perfect to end like this, you knew he was going to ruin it. 

“She-uh… she’s coming to brunch tomorrow.”

You froze in place, almost everything fit like a puzzle in your mind now, and you didn’t know which emotion to feel first. 

Anger, jealousy, or sadness. 

And all three of them hit you at the same time. Because it made sense now, it was clear. He liked Chrissy. He wanted Chrissy. 

He wanted to move on with her. 

He had your heart in his hands, but this time he wasn’t toying with it; he was stomping on it, over and over again, not stopping until he was sure it was beyond salvageable. 

Hand almost frozen in the place you opened the car door without a word, settling into the passenger seat like nothing had happened. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath before he opened his side of the door, getting inside swiftly just to turn to you, “are you not gonna say anything?” he asked, voice carrying a desperate tone.

Your gaze remained fixed outside the window, your cheek pressed against the cool glass. “We’re going to be late,” you replied with a cold, unfeeling tone. Silence filled the car, mirroring the gaping void that now existed between you two.

Thankfully, Aurora didn’t give him any trouble when he started the ignition with a key turn, and the engine roared to life. You didn’t want to speak; you didn’t want to say anything to him. You wanted to save all of your emotions, contain them in the depths of your mind, and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t want him to know how much this crushed you. 

But you couldn’t just do that; too disappointed to let it slide, the words escaped your mouth like a dam breaking, “I can’t fucking believe you.” 

“Just, listen, I-I didn’t even invite her-” Eddie tried to explain, but you weren't listening, you didn’t care, you were letting it all out. 

“How would you fucking feel if I kissed… Jason in front of you?” Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but you continued, “how would you feel if I invited him to brunch tomorrow?

Once you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts, he scoffed. “That’s not the same thing, Pinky. Carver made my life a living hell, he was a miserable bully.”

You should tell him, you should tell him what exactly Chrissy did to you.

You should tell him the whole story of that night at Steve’s party. 

The part he didn’t know. 

But you don’t. 

Because you’re too busy to worry about whether he actually wants to be with her or not, your mind felt full, anxieties and worries dancing around in it. 

“And Chrissy kissed Billy!” Your mouth dried up when that name left your mouth, you could feel that dreadful feeling consuming your chest. 

That night was still a blur to you—the way you caught them, the things Chrissy said to you, the way Billy swore that she initiated the kiss. 

Eddie shook his head. “She said it was a misunderstanding.”

You rubbed your fingertips on your forehead in disbelief. “And you believe her over me?” you asked, tone carrying a tinge of hurt and betrayal. The question hung heavy between the two of you.

“No, no!” He yelled out. “Jesus fucking Christ, stop putting words in my mouth, Pinky!” Eddie groaned in frustration, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “She explained it was a misunderstanding, and she does want to tell you that, too… maybe you could talk to her—”

You let out an exasperated chuckle, not interested in entertaining the idea. “no fucking way.” 

“If you want to be with her, then just fucking say that, Munson, don’t do all this fuckin’ bullshit,” you added, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“I don’t want- oh, you’re unbelievable!” He snapped, head bumping against the headrest of his van. 

“You make it fucking impossible to start over!”

“Wh-what does that even mean?” You retorted back.

“J-just when I’m about to start over, just when I-I’m going to…” He rolled his tongue inside of his cheek in rage as he paused to better explain himself. 

“I find a picture of you in my wallet that you put… or, or Nancy and Jonathan tell me that you invited them over…” You were on the brink of retorting when he continued, “or, or, you- you just barge back into town like you never left; talk to me like nothing fuckin’ happened.”

You didn’t dare to open your mouth; everything he said made you feel guilty. But everything he felt, you felt, too. Each time you felt like moving on, each time you wanted to try to be with someone, you physically couldn’t. 

Maybe it was selfish that you liked hearing him feel the same way too. That’s why the way he was being so vague about whatever he had with Chrissy was like a stab to your heart, in the most non-dramatic way possible. 

“You know… I used to think you were the best thing that ever happened to me… I used to think that you w-would always be in my life. That you’d be the one fuckin’ person who’d never leave me.” Eddie's voice trembled, and your throat was quick to tighten, lump forming as his words began to sink in. It felt like the car grew darker the more he spoke, your world crumbling down with it. 

“I was wrong about all of that... all you fuckin’ did was ruin it… You ruined my life.”

The faint strains of heavy metal playing on the car's stereo seemed distant, before you spoke up, wobbly lips slurring your words. “I… I r-ruined your life?” You slumped back on your seat with his words slicing through you like a knife, gnawing at your insecurities.

“Y-you really think that?” Words barely escaped your lips, voice quivering. 

He opened his plushy lips to speak, but he couldn’t answer; words died down in his throat, his gaze fixated on the road, lips pressed into a tight line. 

That in itself was an answer, you knew it, and he knew it. You felt exposed to him, like he knew your insecurities but still did nothing to hide them. 

You couldn't help but feel a hot prickle behind your eyes, the unshed tears were getting harder to hold back. You bit back on your wobbly lip, in an attempt to conceal the pent-up emotions that were begging to be let out. “This… this whole thing was a mistake,” you murmured, voice hushed and heavy with regret. The words felt like stones in your mouth, bitter and unpalatable. 

“We-we were caught up in ourselves, ther-there’s no fuckin’ way we could ever be friends,” you continued, driving home the painful truth, just so you could hurt him like he hurt you, just so you didn’t want him to know how pathetically you still wanted to be with him in any way possible. 

“I agree,” he grumbled, eyes still on the road. Tears streamed down your cheeks, tracing glistening paths along your cheeks, you didn’t even attempt to wipe them. Sniffles punctuated the air, body shuddering with an attempt to suppress your sobs, but then again, they were drowned out by the heavy metal music that echoed in the car. 

Eddie’s gaze fell on you every few seconds; but you didn’t seem to notice. And the guilt ate away at him, too, his brows furrowed in agony. He knew that wasn’t what he meant to say. He didn’t mean it in that way, you didn’t ruin his life; you never could—well, not until you left him. 

His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel; this wasn’t how everything was supposed to happen. He didn’t even invite Chrissy; she asked to come, and of course Eddie said yes, what else could he do? So he just wanted to give you a heads up. Just so things wouldn’t get bad between the two of you again, but he managed to screw it up.

Grumbles and some curses were all the two of you could hear when Eddie pulled up to Wayne’s workplace. With a huff of breath, your car door hung open. “I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes, rockstar; you better have some good fuckin’ excuse-” Wayne’s eyes widened the second his gaze met your sad figure.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Wayne exclaimed as if seeing a ghost. “Am I seein' that right? Is that who I think it is?” Despite the heartache gnawing at your insides, you managed a smile.

"Hi, Wayne," you mumbled shyly. Wayne, however, wasn't having it. "Oh, you're not gettin' off with a simple 'hey,' come over here, kid!" He said excitedly, pulling you into a bear-hug. The embrace was tight enough to make you giggle and sniffle, an unfamiliar smile on your lips.

“Where the hell have ya been?” Wayne inquired once he let you go. 

You tried to get up, offering him the front seat, he shook his head, hands holding you down by your shoulders, not wanting to interrupt the two of you.

You told him about everything—New York, your job, how you got here. Everything. 

And all Eddie did was drive; he didn’t look at you or even Wayne for all that mattered—not a single glance. And of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Wayne. 

“Alright, kids, you two are bein' weird…” Wayne grumbled, glancing at Eddie. “Tell me what the hell happened. Some kind of lover's quarrel?” Eddie scoffed, and you couldn't help but snap your head in his direction.

"Somethin' funny, boy?" Wayne added, narrowing his gaze at his niece. Eddie sighed but still avoided both of your gazes.

“No, no, uhh- nothing happened.” He murmured.

Your gaze narrowed, and you couldn’t help the anger inside of you. “That’s funny, that is not how I remember it.” 

Wayne’s brows furrowed before he leaned closer to the front seat. “What happened, P? You know you can always tell me anythin’” he murmured with a reassuring tone. 

Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you ignored him, “he is with Chrissy,” you said, scrunching your face as you turned to gauge Wayne's reaction.

Wayne's brows tilted together, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember that name. “You remember her? Strawberry blonde hair and-”

“The blondie that made you cry?” you nodded, “with that Hargrove kid?” 

“See, even Wayne remembers,” you grumbled, slightly elbowing Eddie to get a reaction out of him, only earning an offended huff.  

“I never liked him, you know,” Wayne continued, large hands gesturing vaguely to emphasize his point, “always thought you were way too good for him. A guy like him has no business with my Pinky.” You leaned further into the headrest, fingers fiddling with your jacket as you gave Wayne a weak smile. 

“Should’ve listened to you,” you hummed. 

“So Eddie is with her?” Wayne mumbled, face souring. 

“Boy, have you lost your damn mind?” Wayne was quick to chide Eddie, who was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in an attempt to not snap at either of you. 

But it wasn’t working. 

"I told you I'm not with her!" he hissed, voice dripping with irritation. He shot a glare at Wayne through the rearview mirror, but his words were directed at you. 

“How would you explain kissing her and inviting her to our friend's brunch!” You snapped in Eddie’s direction. 

“Eddie, tell me you did not do that!”

“It-it’s not like that, Wayne.”

“Oh, really? What is it like?” You gruffly asked, curiosity and hurt evident in your tone.

“Eddie…” Wayne warned him shushingly with a disappointed look, he could see how much you were hurting, and he knew Eddie was a bit oblivious.

“What?” he groaned.

“Don’t worry, Wayne, he just enjoys playing with my feelings,” you replied with a scoff, fingers tracing the pattern on the car’s leather seats, a relief to your pent-up emotions.

“Oh, you’re one to fuckin’ talk,” Eddie muttered under his breath with an out of place chuckle, his anger overflowing after holding it back for so long. “Newsflash, princess. You weren’t the one to wake up all alone in L.A. with one fucking note, I was!” He yelled, words punctuated by the heavy breath he took between each sentence. 

“You should be grateful you have two notes in that pocket of yours because I barely got one!” 

“Will you stop bringing that up?” You plead, lip wobbling as you bit on it harshly to stop your emotions from spilling. 

“‘I can’t do this, sorry.’” He recited your words, and you refused to look at him. “Five letters, Pinky. Not even six. Five. You left me with that—no goodbyes, no nothin’, just a sticky fuckin’ note attached to the fridge.” His head snapped toward you.

A loud chuckle left your mouth, you turned to him with rage, and Wayne knew he had to step in or it was going to get ugly, even uglier than, whatever this was. “This isn’t even about that-”

“Alright, alright!” He interrupted, hands waving in the space between the two of you. 

“Simmer down, both of you! I know the two of you have a lot of unresolved shit… but don’t burn this bridge,” he warned, “not again.” Wayne’s words were quick to disperse the emotional fog that had surrounded the car. 

“The thing, whatever the hell it is, that y’all have… people spend their whole fuckin’ life lookin’ for it… Don’t be dumb.” That was enough to have the two of you shut up. 

“Talk it out.” He said, firm but fair. “I know you’ve both been hurt, so, be honest with each other, and apologize,” he continued, urging both of you to confront each other.

“Okay?” He asked, head hanging in the space between the two of you. 

“Okay,” both of you mumbled in unison, backs turned toward each other.

‘Too late’ was all you could think; that bridge was already burned. There was no way the two of you could ever go back now, right?

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when Eddie finally pulled up to your house, you didn’t waste any time saying goodbye to Eddie before turning to Wayne and giving him a hug. 

“See you around?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“You better!” Wayne warned playfully, evoking a giggle from you. “You gotta drop by sometime, promise?” He asked with a sly grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

You didn’t want to see Eddie anymore than you had to now, but if Wayne asked you to do something, you’d do it in a heartbeat. 

You looked back at Eddie, your gazes connecting for a second before both of you turned away. “Uh-huh, promise,” you mumbled before exiting quickly. 

“What the hell are you doin’, kid?” Wayne exclaimed the moment you left, causing Eddie to look at him with a puzzled expression.

“Walk her to her door, for Christ’s sake!”

“I-I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Eddie explained hesitantly.

“Where are your manners?” Wayne scolded him, raising his voice. Eddie grumbled in frustration but ultimately gave in, cussing under his breath as he exited the car to follow you.

He ran after you, breathless once he finally caught up to you. “Sorry, I should’ve walked you-” He mumbled

You shook your head interrupting him, “no, it’s fine.” 

“So, uhhh…” He started, gaining your attention back to him. “Goodnight.” Eddie grumbled with a scratch of his head, barely able to look at you. He didn’t want to leave things like this, but the damage was already done. You could see the guilt in his eyes, but it didn’t matter now. 

He wondered what you would think of the notes; would you even read them? Would you get mad at him for the things he wrote? 

“Goodnight, Eddie.” You muttered back, turning to the door as you avoided looking at him, your finger shakily retrieved your key as you fumbled with it, doing everything in your willpower to not turn back at him. 

Eddie walked away with the same thoughts eating away at him. Were you going to look back at him? The temptation got the best of him, and he turned with a shy nod. You were struggling with your keys, muttering in frustration, and the sight unintentionally brought a smile to his lips before he hurried back to his car.

The moment you heard his car door open, you turned, slowly and reluctantly, only for your gaze to meet Wayne’s, who had an all-knowing smirk playing at his lips, waving at you. 

You gave him a shy smile before you hurriedly turned your back, finally opening the door and rushing inside. 

“You idiot lovebirds are goin’ to be the death of me,” Wayne grumbled to himself with a shake of his head, watching the way you scurried inside.

Once you locked the door, you rested against it, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. Your thoughts were swirling,but there was only one thing that was overpowering everything else; the note. 

You furiously searched for it in your pocket, curiosity filling the course of your veins as you fished it out of the left one, your hand shaking as you held it in front of your eyes. 

The words scribbled in the closed note had your heart racing, afraid of what it was going to say, once you fully opened it, your eyes roamed through it quickly.

The note was dated a week ago. 

Don't fool yourself,

She was heartache from the moment that you met her.

My heart feels so still

As I try to find the will to forget her, somehow.

Oh I think I've forgotten her now.

(Is it obvious this last line is sarcasm?) 

Your fingers traced the line that had the parenthesis and were crossed out. Eddie’s notes. If you the tears that escaped your burning eyes weren’t distorting your vision, maybe you would’ve appreciated some of the lyrics, and his funny notes, even though they were messy and all over the place.

I don’t blame you, but sometimes I wish we hadn’t met. (This is kinda too out there, but there could be something from this???)

Your heart pounded against your ribcage—that familiar ache that never fully left returned with a sharper pain. It hurt that he thought of you in this way. He thought you ruined his life, and now he wished he had never met you. 

Those thoughts sank into your brain, and the anger that came with them was something you couldn’t comprehend. There was a lot more of the scribbled nonsense that you couldn’t read, other lyrics that were scratched out. 

Your hands were shaking once you flipped it over. The other note was dated today. 

I lied, didn’t I? I think I would prefer all the heartache in the world to not knowing you. I didn’t even realize that until today. Until I saw you across the room. And I can’t even explain how good it felt to look up and see you standing there. Even with that frown adorning your face.

Your tears hadn’t stopped, falling onto the piece of crumpled up paper and making a mess. 

You felt like an idiot; you should’ve told him when you had the chance, and you had a lot of them. You were angry that you let everyone walk over you. You were angry that Billy had gotten away with everything. And now, Chrissy had a chance with him without ever paying for the consequences of what she did. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

You didn’t want to be polite with your sadness anymore You didn’t want to absorb everyone’s pain to make sure they were okay. And you hated that that’s what you did essentially did when you didn’t tell Eddie about Chrissy. 

You paced around the room, biting down on your nails. 

Should you tell him? Or was that too selfish?

Because if you wanted to tell him, you had just the perfect opportunity to tell him and confront Chrissy; the brunch. 

✦ final authors note —ALSO THE CHRISSY STUFF WILL BE REVEALED NEXT CHAPTER. IM SORRY FOR TEASING IT SO LONG BUT THE REVEAL IS GONNA BE GOOD I PROMISE LMAO. if you like this series pls support me by rbing liking and commenting ily thank youu🫶🏻 [EDIT: i forgot to say this but ofc the lyrics are not mine they are by jeff buckley’s incredible song “forget her” i listened to it A LOT writing this chapter👀 also if u can guess what the chapters title is inspired by ily]

permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.)

[beanswrites]

Who I Should've Been

ya'll the idea for this popped into my head as i was writting the first chapter of my Peter B. Parker fic (soon on ao3!!) and i just had to do it immediately

i know it's just like a drabble but lmk if you want a whole, one-shot version, i think this has some VERY GOOD angst, second-chance romance potential

also brace yourself this is ANGST angst, i know there's no like major death or anything but it still HURTS😭😭😭

pairings: Peter B. Parker (from Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse) x fem! reader

tags: angst, regret, hurt/no comfort, kind of a cliff-hanger??

summary: Peter is your ex-boyfriend, which you broke up with because he never put in much effort into your relationship. Seven months later, you find Spiderman on your rooftop after one of his patrols.

requests are open!! | masterlist | rules for requesting

It was a cold night in NYC, usual for November. You had just gotten off from work and were in a desparate need for some fresh air, so you made way to your building's rooftop.

It wasn't particularly nice - nothing that would get people to come regularly. Especially you. This place was your secret place with Peter, that jerk of you ex who didn't bother once to call and ask you how you've been in the last seven months. Seven fucking months since you got in a fight and broke up, and he never even asked you how you've been.

Yet, it seemed like the only option, so tonight, it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't matter.

There was another figure out there - one of your neighbors, you assumed, sitting on the edge of the rooftop with his head in his hands, looking over at the city lights.

Wait, was the figure... Wearing a mask?

"Oh, Mr. Spiderman, hello! What.. are you doing here? Any villains? Oh, god- Should I leave?"

Spiderman seemed equally as surprised and starstruck to see you as you did him.

"No, uh, no! Just, on patrol.."

You didn't believe a word he said. You knew very well how to spot a man in despair - and he looked like one.

"Could I.. sit here?"

"Sure."

You sat next to him, wallowing in the beauty of the many lights. The silence between you two was uncomfortable, since it was obvious he had something weighing heavy on his mind.

"Are.. Are you okay?" You ask, unsure whether you should try and pride in.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm.. I'm gonna be okay."

"You don't look fine to me..."

Spiderman bit the inside of his cheek, like he was struggling to say whathever was wrong.

"I, just... Going through a break up"

"Yikes. Bad one?"

"Yeah. Pretty bad."

"Me too. I know it sucks, but it'll get better over time"

He chuckles sarcastically, shaking his head. If only you knew...

"No, not really. Not for me, at least"

"Aww, come on! It will get better, it always does-"

He cut you off sharply, a stern look in him.

"No, it never does. Not when you fucked up as bad as I did. Not when... Shit, not when you lose as much as I did."

An uncomfortable silence reigned. You felt bad for him, but in the end, you could relate. You, too, were trying to heal from a break up that broke you.

"You love her?"

He looks at you. His eyes are covered by the mask and yet, you feel how he's looking at you: full of regret and sadness.

"More than anything... But I fucked up. She won't take me back."

You nodded, your gaze returning to the city skyline.

"What about you..? You miss him?"

Please say yes. Please say you've been a wreck without me like I've been without you.

"Well, it's... Complicated. He was the greatest love I've ever known but.. He just wasn't there for me. Ever. And it eventually got too much for me. His abscense, his lack of attention, everything. It's been a long time, and I think I moved on pretty good. But.. But I still miss him sometimes."

Spiderman smirks.

"He must be an idiot"

You chuckle sweetly, enjoying your time with the superhero.

"Yeah, I guess he kinda was. It's one of the things I loved most about him"

He smiles sadly, suddenly getting up.

"I should go now, got some bad guys to catch. You take care of yourself, alright?"

All you could do was nod before he swung from your building onto another, and then another, and then another....

Maybe it was just your imagination, but the sound of Spiderman's voice sounded awfully comforting. Awfully familiar.

that's all for this one (or is it???)!! thank you sm for reading, follow for more! and lmk if this should be a one shot!! <33

[malt-rants-and-stuff]

OKAY FUCKERS WE HAVE REACHED 100!!! SOMEONE POP OUT THE HEARTS

this chapter was honestly what I should've expected. mitsukouers we have been fed and are probably going to be put into the closet once more going forwards so let us say thanks for these last few chapters, as well as all the other 99 chapters that came before this one. it's been amazing and I hope it continues to be so!!

now, I'm not one for making long posts myself. however!! this makes for a special occasion so I will have to make do :)

!!! SPOILERS FOR TOILET BOUND HANAKO-KUN CHAPTER 100 !!!

So,

this chapter was great! Though as always I wished that there had been more, what we got was a... pretty satisfying close to this arc.

I will say, as much as I loved what did happen, it felt like it was missing something. Like there was a part of this chapter bring held back. (and no I don't mean that there wasn't a mitsukou kiss this chapter, though that of course was missed as well)

I feel like they really needed to talk more about... well... fucking everything I guess? but, then again, it is so like them to not say shit even when its so important for them to communicate about it (i.e. the way they refuse to address the way they are both for sure going insane at this point, kou seemingly giving up on thinking about his morality when it comes to caring for mitsuba, mitsuba clearly only wanting kou to exorcize him regardless of the bs he said about teru being fine too, tsukasa, etc etc). I would've loved to see them have some proper talks about all of that and more, but also I can't see them doing that in anyway that wouldn't feel ooc and wrong for them.

Mitsuba and Kou just don't do that.

Or at least, not anymore.

Before, I'm sure there would have been some sort of talking. Something just shy of an argument maybe or a full on breakdown.

But now I think it's a bit late for that.

They were both already teetering off and on the edge by the time the severance happened and I think after all of that I think any chance of having proper communication about all the shit they've been through together, for each other, and what bullshit they'll pull going into the future is off the god damn ledge kou jumped from in That One Chapter.

The ending of this chapter solidified this for me more than anything else I think. We got Kou basically asking Mitsuba to live if only to come with him to the school festival, if for nothing else, which is for sure going to be the next Big Event Thing. and then at the very end Mitsuba mentions being hungry and Kou replies with silence which makes me think that their night isn't over yet, and Kou is beyond prepared to get his hands dirtier to help him. This probably won't be addressed, at least not by these two directly after last chapter. If anything I'm kinda hoping Teru will be the one to do it but that's neither here nor there.

All in all, this was a pretty useless ramble of me basically saying I love mitsukou (derogatory) and that they are every reason for my unwell mind.

Anyways mitsukou is canon I'm the heart Mitsuba ate thanks for coming to my Ted talk

[ngmn2002]

Ch 107: Random Thoughts part 1

Okaaaay, here we go! Staaaaarting with...!!!

'TAP' Hehe, my sweet boy. This first page gave me too much fluffy feelings alone. "Hmm" Tsukasa? Oh... yes! adding it to my collection later

This:

We added a new one to the collection. Yay!

Hmm... I feel bad for him. He feels like he is a bit annoyed by all the searching and only finding: bird nests & gears. Hang in there, Tsu. Much more hardships are coming your way really soon. ♡

Hmm!! My kitty boy!!! I feel sorry for my boy. He can't focus at all! Trying to get where the 'ticking' is coming from & hearing Nene's cries all together... he is already tired of searching in vain, and now ticking and a crying girl are added on top of his chest too... ahhh... Tsuuu... ♡

pffffttt... I said it, didn't I? Nene-chan is going to give you a hard time. it kinda feels like they are taking turns, last chapter he had her over the edge, now it's her turn to get back at him. how fun now I really want to see how little Tsukasa used to throw a fit as little Amane described it I wonder how little Amane used to go: my sweet lil bro ♥ recalling Tsu's fits. That's the power of love for you. XD he still got angry at him that one time when he was sick when Tsukasa went all: "let's go! let's go! let's go!" Show me that researcher T inside of you! Come on, Tsu! I know you can do it! Win Nene-chan over and have lots of fun together as I said you would!

As much as I wanted to see him carrying her like that, a piggyback don't hurt. It's close so I will take it.

Really though... his face... he looks so done. "why are you being so fussy". Indeed. This is the boy who gets annoyed once someone distracts him with what he is doing. But, ooh... Nene-chan is different. He must treat her nicely.~ "no more upside-down." "ok, here" such a good boy!!! He is trying his best to make Nene-chan calm down and 'have fun'.

^^

An upgrade! he looks done with everything there. like.. please... give me some peace I'm begging you. spare me. please be quiet. She got him twice, lol! Go Nene-chan! I'm so happy to see Tsukasa making new different faces!! I'm so here for it!! Bring it out of him!!! AHAHA I never! NEVER expected to see Tsukasa making any kind of a 'I'm done face'!!!! I realllllly wished to see him this way but my hopes weren't so high because this guy is always all 'energetic', smiley and relaxed!!! Thank you, Nene-chan!! I will forever be grateful to you!!! Researcher T wasn't this way, lol. maybe being an experienced researcher helps.

Wow... too many things in here... ok.. let's get to work...

(1) Though, I'm still grateful Tsukasa doesn't seem to take her words to heart. Because if he took that 'I hate you' literally like that time he thought Amane hates him... ehhh.... glad that doesn't seem to be the case. I'm glad he is so done to focus on any of that. He is jsut a really sensitive and emotional boy.

(2) well, that's cute. both call him that. they gave him a sharped nickname.

....

Well, can't say no to that. You have a record Tsu... just make sure to...

... just ask her to go with you normally and nicely next time.

(3)

And, (4)...

Ehh.. it's 'your' turn. Though, hehe, should I take it as the 'opposite'? ~

From this thing you can tell how much 'annoyed' he really is. lol Also, trying the same methods my boy? Not sure Nene-chan will let you have your way with her, just stay put and have it this time. Careful. Hmm. I like it how he is trying to gently put her to sleep as a way of making her 'quiet down'. He is gentle with girls after all, especially if said girl is Nene-chan~ Such a NICE guy. ♡ Ok, so now... your little game is to make Nene-chan stop crying and put her to sleep? I'm sure you can do it, Tsu! one way or another.~ he can handle it just fine when Mit 2.0 or Amane cry... hmm...

See? Told you. ♡ Though I really wonder, was Tsu playing with her or going really too easy on her? I mean... he is so fast... I don't think a little girl, even if it was Nene-chan, is a match for all his unmatched speed. ......

Anyway,

She got back at him for the hell of mirrors thingy She hit Tsukasa!!! AHAHA. Uhhh... how does it feel, Tsu? You're the one tasting that.~ from Nene-chan no less. Don't think Mit 2.0 will ever have the courage to do such thing. He will always go: yes, sir/ Tsukasa- kun scares me/ and.. eh.. as said in this chapter later. 'an obedient yes'... the after school chapter he said he got into a fight with Tsu... wonder how exactly that thing is...

Hmm... how are you doing after that punch, Tsu?

Oh, you're still so done, huh? haha I'm enjoying Tsukasa's faces this chapter way too much. ♡

Hmm... don't think older Nene would do that. At least not for now, as she sees him 'scary', or maybe it changed after this chapter? and.. ok.. Tsu's record with Nene-chan has a punch to the face, a few kicks and fists and a tea splashed into him. I see, I see.

Uhh... little Nene-chan is really cool and fearless. Shouting at Tsukasa and hitting him. Demanding what she wants. Going all out. Hmm... I love it. All of it.

How are you gonna deal with things now, Tsu?

My... she kinda talks like little Tsu... with this 'cuz'. Glad to see her recalling the information. Having Tsukasa not too bothered with what she said is eye-catching. He gets she knows this fact, from him (ch 105), and? previously his assistant, and seems to have a backup plan at mind, not too bad for my boy. He knows lots of stuff we don't. The inside of his head.~ Anddd...

He is like... 'please just stop. let's take a break'. Thinking about Nene... if she was her older self she might enjoy this grip. Now, trying this on her again, Tsu...

AHAHA. Wow... really... a lesson to never piss off little Nene-chan or make her angry. ♡

Nene-chan calling him a big bully... hmm... you don't mean that... He is nowhere near that. He is so nice. You'll see how nice he is in a few moments.~

mit 2.0... haha. how funny Never expected to see Tsu going "sheeh". lol don't think T would go like that, again Also, see? Nene-chan? He did nothing a bully would do. He is just trying to understand how to deal with you and then do things nicely. "What can I do for you to make you feel better, little one?"

exactly like in here. ♡

Uhhh!! One of the things I really enjoyed in this the chapter was to see Tsukasa talking with Kokujoudai and trying to handle stuff together!!! They seem to have asked him to babysit her! babysitting your assistant is surely a fun thing to do. what a nice master we have there ~ being a dad is pretty hard And... Tsu.. you sure? don't you babysit Mit 2.0, even now? "Do what your mom used to do". I really like Red koku this chapter. Hmm... Tsu doesn't seem to remember much from a long time ago. Though, I'm afraid I will be coming back to this... after Tsu's backstory to start crying... especially with how she might have treated him after he was 4...

After that, seems an idea came to your mind, Tsu? ♡

Not too sure about that, but it works perfectly well with you and Nene-chan. So, all is good. What a glorious page. ♡♡ Did he tie up the owl's beak? lol He is treating it like a 'horse' in there. How cool of him. Riding a big flying owl just to make a little girl happy and have fun. Such a good boy!!! See, Nene-chan? He is so nice! ♡

See, Nene-chan? See where he is ready to go to insure you're having fun? told you you'll have loooooots of fun with Tsu, after all... he has a natural talent in making things so muuuuch fun. Never a dull moment with him around! Lucky you! ♡

love how he is holding her!! "I see"... that gentle, pleased face!!! TSUUU!!! MY GOOD BOOOY!!! loooove his face!! He is so pleased to see her having fun and laughing!!! ♡

Them laughing and having fun together next!! oooh!!!!!!

the owl... it's fully tied up now and Tsu is sitting on it. lol Love their different reactions. Energetic Tsu is really so done. Seeing energetic Tsu out of energy is so funny. Love how he is sitting!!! oooh!!!

She is overjoyed Tsu!! She is so very happy!! You made her sooooo happyyyyyy!!!!!!! ♡

I'm surprised to see Tsu going like that and his "what are you, an alarm?/ how sassy (ironic)" ... I mean...

She is just like you. ♡ but you're being so done with things... sooo...

LOL. He said it!!! "I'm done" AHAHA "take over for me, Kokujoudai" aaaaaah!!! their reaction!!! I want to know from where did Red koku get that thing lol.. and blue koku... it's for a good cause. you're so good! reminds me of Teru grabbing Red koku and getting his hand burned. it's up to them who they want to be grabbed by. hehe

It seems we owe Tsu an apology. For calling him so chaotic and all... ehhh… Nene took the medal. She got him feeling so done. Though maybe, I think if the setting was different, and things were just normal, they would be going all out. Both of them.

I'm a bit confused here, so was he siniging to help her calm down or was he singing to cool off or was he singing this in particular because Nene's class was playing 'wizard of oz' and he got some nostalgic memories, or does he sing it from time to time casually or all these things together?

.

.

.

Due to pic limits. Part (2)

[the-boy-meets-evil]

tell me how it got this way | ch. 4

hoseok tries to clear the air and you're really not sure how you feel about any of it pairing: jungkook x f.reader, hoseok x f.reader genre: angst, smut, fluff | non-idol!au chapter rating: explicit, minors dni (if that's not your thing, skip over the end) warnings: drinking (but nobody is drunk), kissing, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, fingering, orgasms, light choking (briefest mention of past kink negotiation), lots of intimacy, i think that's it word count: 7.6k (idk what happened, blame jungkook) a/n: i'm not really sure what happened with this chapter (which is kind of a lie, reader/jungkook kinda ran with it). i said this in the last chapter, but this has taken a turn from where i saw it ending initially. i'm really happy with where it's headed now though and i hope you like it prev | masterlist | next

After a lot of back and forth, you end up texting Hoseok and asking if he’d like to meet up and talk. Jimin actually proved helpful and chimed in on some things to say when you weren’t drunk and doing a stupid roleplay. You have a moment of hoping Hoseok might not answer and this whole thing can just be written off as a bad memory.

No such luck.

Hoseok answers shockingly fast, like he’s hoping to hear from you. Maybe he was. He did go to the trouble of showing up at a Gala just on the chance you would be there, after all. You suggest a place for lunch, someplace public so it’s easier to control the situation, and he agrees to that immediately as well. Everything falls into place too quickly for you to second-guess it.

But now, you’re sitting at some new restaurant in the city that you’ve never been to, someplace that had good ratings and an overpriced menu. It isn’t the type of place you normally pick and you’re not even sure why you picked it for lunch today. There was just something you couldn’t handle about the thought of Hoseok meeting you at a place you loved. Because you really are a creature of habit and if this whole thing ends up blowing up, at least it won’t be at a place you go to often. 

It’s also one of the few times you’ve ever been on time for anything. This lets you take your seat at the table and order something to drink. You consider for a minute before asking for a martini, gin, of course, with a lemon peel. You only get to take one sip before you hear a voice behind you letting someone know this is their table. You don’t have to turn around because you know it’s him. A second later he sits down opposite you, looking far more put together than in college, dark skinny jeans and a light jacket over a v-neck. 

It’s just as hard as it was the night at the gala, even if in a different way. Your heart constricts at the sight of him and you desperately hope that he can’t see it on your face. He’s grown up a lot in the last five years, just like you’re sure you have in his eyes. He smiles and it’s less than his typical thousand watts, which tells you that you’re not the only nervous one sitting there.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” he admits and you sigh.

“That’s hardly fair,” you respond. 

“You ignored my messages,” Hoseok says and it’s almost petulant. It’s easier to stay annoyed when he acts this way, you realize. 

“For good reason, Hoseok,” you say, not bothering to control the exasperation edging into your voice. “But, I agreed to meet you, what reason do you have not to believe I’d be here? I wasn’t the one who abandoned you.”

“I didn’t abandon you.” His voice is sad, far away.

“Yes,” you say firmly, “you did.”

Hoseok looks down at his hands in his lap and you’re back in college again. This is the Hoseok that you always wanted to protect. 

“I’m sorry for lashing out,” you say, even though you’re not the one who should be sorry. Some habits die really hard.

“No, I’m sorry. You’re right, you never once stood me up. Hell, you were there even when I didn’t ask you,” he admits and you chew your lower lip. 

You remember. You remember it all. The times you were there for him, when he was there for you, the way you laughed, the way you could always finish each other’s sentences, the way people were envious of your friendship. Hoseok had never been good about admitting when he needed someone, needed you, but you could always tell. So you would show up, some excuse at the ready that allowed you both to act like you weren’t just there for him, and it was always easy. And you remember all the bad too, every detail of that day 5 years ago from what he was wearing, to what he said, to just how far into the packing you were. You remember the stupid little fights too, the things you would both occasionally say only to make up days later.

“A lot has changed,” you say, unsure of what else to say.

“I know, I’ve read your books. I can’t believe you’ve put 3 out in the last 5 years,” he admits and you’re stunned for a moment.

“You read them?” The surprise in your voice is plain and he looks...hurt? Could that be what flashed across his face?

“Course I read them,” he said.

“I figured Gen would’ve been firmly against that.” The venom comes on without warning. In all the time you’d spent thinking about Hoseok, especially since he’d texted, you hadn’t realized just how much you hated her.

“Ah, well, yeah she was. But you’d written a book and you were always such a good writer, I was curious. I remember when you started outlining the series. I remember drinking and you talking about your characters like they were friends. I remember when you started the first book. It felt like it was part of me.” There’s something that looks a lot like guilt on his face and you’re confused by that. “Besides, we broke up.”

“You...what? How long ago?” 

“Oh, um, I guess about 2 years ago? You’d released your 2nd book and you were already dropping hints about the 3rd one.” He says it like a question, like it was inconsequential how long it had been, like it wasn’t important information.

It mattered to you, though. You thought that it had been all this time since you’d spoken because he was still with her. Instead, they had broken up years ago and he still had not reached out. What did that mean? Did that mean that he really hadn’t wanted to be your friend? You can feel yourself spiraling and you’re trying your hardest to fight that. You can’t spiral over him, not again, not here.

“So, Jungkook,” Hoseok says. It seems like he’s searching for a topic. It causes your eyebrows to knit in confusion for a second. Had you mentioned his name? You knew you had not introduced them. 

“Did I mention his name?” you ask unable to stop the question from tumbling out of your mouth.

“No, uh, I ran into him at a coffee shop a few days after the gala and he introduced himself. Did he not mention that?” 

Your eyes narrowed. It seemed interesting that Hoseok had managed to run into Jungkook so quickly. “No, he must’ve forgotten to mention it.”

“He seems nice,” Hoseok adds and you nod. 

“Yeah, Jungkooie is great,” you say affectionately, not even thinking twice about how it may come off.

“You deserve that, you deserve someone in your life that makes you happy,” he says and there is something you can’t place about the way he smiles. It feels off. Once upon a time, you could read his every expression better than your own. You guess that was then.

And you know he thinks Jungkook is your boyfriend, the same way Namjoon does. You don’t bother to correct it this time and you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s something to do with wanting to feel like you’ve got the leg up. “You know, that was all I wanted for you back in college too, to be happy with someone that wasn’t going to make you choose between them and your friends.”

He pauses for a moment and looks down into his lap. “Yeah, I know.” 

“Why now?” You don’t even remember deciding to ask the question, it just comes tumbling out.

“What?” The question has very clearly caught him off guard.

“I guess...I just, I thought the reason we hadn’t talked for all these years was because you were still with Gen and she still hated me. But now you say you broke up years ago like it didn’t matter, and, I don’t know, why now?”

“I really don’t know. I had moved out of the city about a year after we finished school because Gen wanted to have more space and it was closer to where she worked. So I agreed,” Hoseok said. “Then we broke up and I stayed in that area, but I hated it. I moved back here about 6 months ago and it just…I don’t know. It kept hitting me. Everything reminded me of you. The city is different and everything is different. I just, I don’t know.”

“It’s been 5 years,” you say and he just nods. “5 years without a fucking word and you waltz back in like nothing happened?”

“Please,” Hoseok says and his voice breaks. “That fight we had all those years ago, I was a fucking idiot. I’d wanted to be in a good relationship for so long that I convinced myself she was it. I convinced myself that she was right about it all and that our friendship wasn’t normal.”

“You were my best friend, my family,” you say and take a deep breath. 

“I know,” Hoseok says. “I will never be able to actually express how sorry I am and how much I didn’t actually mean anything I said. I miss you. It took me too long to realize that Gen was a nightmare. Once I did, all I could think about was that I’d fucked up the best relationship I’d ever had.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then? When you broke up?” You’re not going to let him wiggle out of it easily.

“Because I’m a coward?” Hoseok offers the answer and you shake your head. “I don’t know, honestly. I thought you were too big of a deal to care about me anymore, that maybe you were glad not to have me in your life. Then, I worried you’d think I was coming to you because I was going through a break-up and I selfishly wanted your support.”

“Did you?”

“No,” Hoseok answers easily. “No, the break up was honestly one of the easiest things in the world, for me, at least. I didn’t love her anymore, not the way you’re supposed to love someone. I wanted to reach out to you because you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I finally stopped being too much of an idiot to see it.”

“I never asked much of you, just for you to be there,” you say. 

“I know. And you were always there, even when I didn’t want to talk about what I was feeling,” Hoseok said.

“After that fight, I never thought I’d be able to let anyone in again. You ruined me, Hoseok,” you say and watch him break in front of you. To his credit, he lets you speak. “It was fucking awful. Then, I met Yoongi, who’s an amazing friend, always there for me the second I need him. And his boyfriend, Jimin, who’s just such a wonderful light. I have my editor, who actually really is wonderful despite how difficult of a writer I can be. I built my life back. I’ve got all my shit together now in a way 22-year-old me never could’ve dreamed.”

“Don’t forget Jungkook,” Hoseok says and there’s that bitterness.

“I didn’t think he needed to be mentioned since you clearly already know him,” you say. 

“Right,” Hoseok says.

“So what do you want?”

Hoseok looks at you for a long moment, as if now that you’re here he doesn’t know what he wants. You’re not going to make this any less painful, though. “I guess…I want to be your friend again.”

“This is, well it’s a lot to process,” you say honestly. 

“I know,” he says, looking down. Which flares an annoyance in you for a second because you don’t need to be taking care of him right now.

“I’ll think about it,” you say after taking a breath. 

Hoseok has more to say, more apologies, more to fill in on the last five years, just more to say to someone he considered his best friend. He does give you apologies until you finally have to stop him. Even though he’s not trying to get you to make a decision right then and there, you still need a break. Your mind needs the rest. The least you can do is finish the meal before going your separate ways to think it over.

You’re honestly not sure what to make of most of the conversation, but you know that you can’t make this kind of decision in the heat of the moment. Back when everything happened, your answer would have been immediate. No. Now, you were honestly leaning that way still. It really bothered you that he threw away your friendship over a relationship and then didn’t seem to think it was a big deal they’d broken up years ago. And there was something in your gut that made the timing feel off. There was also the fact that Hoseok managed to track down Jungkook to run into him. You don’t really appreciate that because you’re sure it wasn’t an accident.

Yoongi was at least right about something, though. You feel lighter than you have since Hoseok texted you the first time. You feel like you can actually figure out what you’re doing to do next. And because he insisted on knowing when you were having the conversation, you know that he’s going to be painting in his actual studio this afternoon. 

His studio is one of the most peaceful places that you know. Sometimes he does work on pieces at home, but other times, especially when the pieces are bigger, he comes to the studio. It’s not a huge space, but the lighting is perfect and you know it has a couch there. As much as you love Jimin, you also know that he’s not allowed when Yoongi is actually working on things. He can’t help himself, he’s always got things to say. It’s really sweet. You, on the other hand, are allowed because you know the rules.

The conversation with Hoseok was a lot and you were going to want to talk through it at some point. Not now, though. Now you just wanted to curl up in a familiar space where you could be comfortably silent and let everything sink into your skin, take hold in your brain. But on the off chance you started to struggle with this part of the process, at least you would be with someone else, not just sitting alone in your apartment.

When you curl up on the couch, there’s some sort of soft, non-descript music playing in the background and you know without looking that Yoongi is painting something sweet. Something inspired by the quieter side of his relationship with Jimin. He’s always been predictable like that when he’s painting, letting a playlist tell you what he’s working on.

Initially, you considered reading, letting your mind get lost in a world someone else created. But there’s been an idea bouncing around in your head for a bit that’s completely different from the series you’re working on. So you figure maybe it’s time to get some of the characters out of your head and onto sheets. Maybe nothing comes from it. Maybe you see that the idea doesn’t work. Or maybe it ends up being something much more concrete. At the very least it feels safe. Much safer than dwelling on the conversation with Hoseok. Much safer than trying to parse out your feelings. 

And it is safe. The first few characters flow out of you with all their relationships, their personalities, their quirks, their pasts. Each one is somehow immediately familiar while also being entirely new. You remember how much you enjoy this part of the process. There’s something freeing about an entirely blank canvas that can become anything you want it to. Until you start putting the next character onto his sheet and he feels too familiar, not new at all. His motivations and reactions feel perfect, yet also completely off. 

Without warning, you close your laptop harder than you meant to and toss it to the end of the couch as if it had been the one to hurt you. As if it had somehow been responsible for the way your fingers moved across the keyboard. Which is silly, of course. 

“Namjoon will kill you if you break another laptop,” Yoongi comments, eyes on his work. You know he’s still acutely aware of you, though.

You huff a sigh at him. “I haven’t broken that many.”

Yoongi just hums in response, the sides of his mouth quirking up. If he weren’t painting, you’d lob a pillow at his head. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Yoongi asks. He doesn’t look at you. Not because he isn’t paying attention, but because he knows it’s easier like this. Knows you’re more likely to say yes if you can at least pretend you don’t have his full attention. 

“You’re painting,” you say and it’s not really an answer. “I know the rules in the studio.”

“The no-talking rule is because Jimin can’t help himself. He’s got to tell me about his day, about how Jeonghan and Nayeon aren’t talking again, about what Minho-hyung said. Little things,” Yoongi says and does turn to look at you. “Not about the first real conversation he’s had in five years with someone that used to be his whole world.”

Suddenly, you’re pulling your knees up to your chest, sitting back and resting your head against your knees. Yoongi sets down his brush and comes to sit with you on the couch. The words spill out of you, what Hoseok said, what you said, the things that your brain is fixating on. He listens intently to it all, encourages you when something gets caught in your throat. Somehow he always seems to know when to just let you get all your words out and when you need him to encourage you to keep going. 

You realize that you’re feeling very conflicted, something that doesn’t seem to surprise Yoongi. You’re not even sure when you start crying or why you’re crying, really. Part of you is upset, sure, because Hoseok still doesn’t seem to understand completely. Part of you is crying for the scared you from five years ago. Part of you is frustrated at having to dredge all of this up so many years later. Another part of you is thankful because maybe now you can actually put it behind you.

“I told him I’d consider what he asked,” you say to Yoongi and wipe away the last few stray tears.

“Do you want to?” Yoongi asks.

“What? Consider it? Or forgive him?” you ask.

“Either,” Yoongi says easily.

“I don’t know,” you admit in a small voice. “What would you do?”

Yoongi is quiet for a minute and you turn your head to see he looks thoughtful. “Ah, I don’t really think I can answer that for you.”

Another sigh. “I know.”

“I wish I could,” Yoongi says with a sad smile.

“Do you think I’m overreacting about how long ago him and Gen broke up?” you ask, because that’s also been bothering you.

“No,” Yoongi supplies readily. “No, we’ve talked a lot about it and their relationship is so tied up with the end of your friendship with him that it’s a lot more significant.”

“He does seem sorry,” you say and frown. Part of you will never be able to stop wanting to protect him.

“I’m sure he is,” Yoongi agrees.

“So I should forgive him?” you ask, eyes wide looking at Yoongi. He only shakes his head.

“I didn’t say that, either. He can be sorry and he can really know what he did was wrong. He can even show you that he’s sorry. And you can forgive him, if you want. If that’s what’s best for you and your mental health. But you don’t owe him forgiveness and forgiveness doesn’t equal being friends with him again,” Yoongi says and you nod absently. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you say, not for the first time.

“So don’t decide right now,” Yoongi says.

“When do I decide?” you ask.

“You’ll know,” Yoongi says and stands up. 

Instead of going back to sit at his painting, his hands reach for yours to pull you up. He pulls you into a hug without any words and you melt against him. The two of you don’t hug often, it’s just not how you are, but the ones you get always mean something. Neither of you ever acknowledges it, either. He walks back over to his painting and you sink back onto the couch. 

You reach for your phone, mostly to check the time, but see that you have a few messages from Jungkook. The first is complaining about waiting around for the shoot, complete with a cute selfie of him pouting. The second has a picture, you assume from whatever shoot he’s doing, asking for an opinion. It’s as different from the selfie as it could be, he’s posed and serious and complete intensity. It’s a good picture, great actually. But it’s also not a surprise, Jungkook is beautiful. And then there’s the final text. Jungkook: I’m sorry for blowing you up, I know you had the lunch today and you’re probably in Yoongi’s studio now, but I hope you smiled You: You looked great for the shoot Jungkook: hey what about the selfie? Do you only like me when I’m a model? You: yes Jungkook: i am heartbroken You: you’re right, how can i make it up to you? Jungkook: actually… You: i regret this already Jungkook: i have this happy hour i have to go to tonight, are you free? Jungkook: open bar You: say less

“I’m going to head out and let you paint in peace,” you say as you stand to gather your things.

“Tell Jungkook I said hi and to make sure you drink water,” Yoongi calls over his shoulder at you.

“How did you…?” you ask, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Yoongi shrugs. “Lucky guess.”

You’re actually a little unsure about going to happy hour with Jungkook and whoever else is going to be there. Not because you don’t want to support him, you’re always happy to do that, even though he doesn’t really ever ask. You know you’d do just about anything for him. It’s just that you don’t really have a lot of experience being around models or photographers or other people involved in that industry. Technically, you’re all creatives, but it’s very different. Like you clean up well, you’ve just never really nailed the attitude.

And Jungkook hasn’t either, really. He’s a completely different person when he’s not in front of the camera, incredibly approachable. It turns out of a lot of people at the happy hour are that way, actually. You’ve heard a lot of stereotypes about models and realize that you’ve never really been around many. Certainly haven’t ever gotten to know any other than Jungkook. Maybe you were a little quick to judge since you didn’t know what you were getting into. Thankfully you could keep that to yourself. 

Jungkook spots a friend and his face lights up. The other man has one of the most handsome faces that you’ve ever seen. He’s not as muscular as Jungkook, but he’s got broad shoulders that fill out his jacket nicely. Everything about him just exudes both warmth and confidence. He smiles when you and Jungkook approach, eyes light up when Jungkook introduces you.

“This is Seokjin,” Jungkook says and the other man smiles.

“Just Jin is fine,” he says and you feel at ease immediately. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Ah, mostly lies I’m sure,” you say and Jin smirks. 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Jin says, somewhat mysteriously, and your eyebrows shoot up. 

Jin breaks first and immediately starts laughing, a loud sound that’s somehow both kind of obnoxious and completely endearing. 

“You know, by that laugh, I know Jungkookie has mentioned you,” you say.

The older man lets another peel of laughter loose and you know it’s fine. “Yeah, he’s kind of a little shit, isn’t he?”

“Oh completely,” you agree. 

“I saw pictures of you and him from that gala, if you ever need to upgrade your arm candy, I’m available,” Jin says and earns a glare from Jungkook.

“I’m right here you know,” Jungkook says and Jin smirks. 

“Yes, yes,” Jin says.

“It’s a very tempting offer, but I think I’ll stick with this one,” you say, eyes on Jin. You miss the way Jungkook’s face lights up at that. Jin, however, does not.

“Ah, well, no harm in offering,” Jin says easily.

Whatever you were expecting, it’s not this. It’s not Jin deciding on the spot that he likes you and that you’re going to be friends. Not having actual conversations with people about your work without it feeling like lip service. It’s actually kind of nice to remember that not everyone tosses out empty compliments thinking they’re pacifying you. And you certainly weren’t expecting that Jungkook would stay attached to your side the entire time making sure you’re included in every conversation. 

In some ways, it’s not so different from your line of work. Modeling (or photography or make-up or whatever) is their job. And then the job ends and they don’t really want to carry that persona along with them. For the most part, Jungkook grimaces when Jin points out certain models that hadn’t been invited. Jungkook doesn’t actively want to leave anyone out and Jin reminds him, not unkindly, that the last time they invited certain people that the night ended very early. Jungkook is new to all this, still learning the ins and outs. Jin, on the other hand, has been doing this for years. You learn that he got scouted when he was only 17 years old and while it wasn’t his first choice, he enjoyed it anyway.

“What would be your first choice? If you weren’t modeling?” you ask and Jin’s expression softens. You can tell he appreciates being asked and is trying not to go off on a rant.

“Just tell her, Jinnie,” Jungkook says and Jin eyes him. “If there’s anything she loves in this world, it’s hearing people talk about the things they love.”

“I just like the way their faces light up,” you huff out in response.

“Ah, I’d like to own my own restaurant,” Jin says and your eyes shoot up. “I love to cook, but I don’t think I’d be able to do it at a restaurant long term. I think I just really like the idea of creating a place where people can enjoy themselves. Good food, good drinks, good atmosphere. That’s what I want.”

“I know you must have loads of contacts, but if you ever want to sit down and talk to someone who’s been through all that, I know someone who’d love to help you,” you say and Jin looks caught off guard again.

“You barely know me,” Jin says and you shrug. 

“Yeah, but you seem nice,” you answer. “And Jungkook likes you, so that’s all I really need to know.”

Again, you miss the way Jungkook smiles at that. It doesn’t feel like that big of a deal to you, anyway. You do know someone who’s done exactly what Jin wants to, minus the part where he started as a model, and it seems natural to want to help someone chase their dreams. But you don’t think about how it might seem like you’re just doing it because you care about Jungkook. 

You can tell that Jungkook’s social battery is running low without him saying anything. He’s getting quieter, chiming into conversations less. When he moves behind you to wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder, you know it’s time to head out. Not because you mind the show of affection, because, really, you don’t care if yet another person thinks you’re a couple. These are Jungkook’s friends and colleagues, after all. But you also don’t miss the look Jin gives the koala at your back.

“I guess we should be getting out of here,” you say and feel Jungkook nod against your shoulder. 

“Make sure Jungkook brings you around again,” Jin says. “You’re fun.”

“Thanks,” you say honestly. 

It takes a few minutes for you to say your goodbyes. Not that it’s surprising, but Jungkook seems to be popular. Everyone wants to make sure they give a wave or, in some cases, shout out an offer to hang out some other time. Or compliment him on the shoot from earlier that day. He smiles through it all, that little bit of social battery he reserved coming out to make sure he’s polite. Jin is the only surprise, giving you a hug on your way out, a smirk on his face. You don’t really have the time to think about what that means.

A few minutes later, you’re sliding into the back of a car and Jungkook exhales easily. His head tilts back against the headrest and his eyes close peacefully. You’re not exactly an extrovert, but you suppose you are in this situation. Despite his eyes being closed, he reaches out for your thigh and rests his hand there. It’s an incredibly reassuring action, even if it’s something so tiny. You’ve come to realize that it’s his way of saying he’s still there, still conscious of you, just needs a minute to recharge. 

But then you’re worrying a little. You entered your address without thinking about it. Jungkook has his own place with his own things and he’s been gone all day, came straight to pick you up after the shoot. He probably just wants to go home and crash in from of the TV. Not that you’re expecting anything from him, you’re not. It’s just that you’re enjoying having him there to quiet the voices in your head that want to endlessly dissect your conversation with Hoseok. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, breaking through your thoughts.

“Nothing,” you say and he leans his head back again.

“Liar,” he says. 

“I was just thinking I could drive you back to your place when we get to mine,” you say. It’s half true, you reason.

Jungkook lets out a heavy breath, keeps his head back and his eyes closed. “Can I just stay there tonight?”

Your stomach does a little flip at that. Does he know that’s why you were tense? It would be so like him to ease your worries without actually calling you out on it. 

“Of course, you’re always welcome,” you answer and he smiles. 

The rest of the ride is quiet, the comfortable kind that you’ve come to associate with being around Jungkook. When the car drops you off, he follows just behind you up to your door and is back in koala mode as you get the key, clung to your back. 

Once you’re inside, he separates himself to take off his shoes and go off to your spare room. You’re not sure if it’s to have some time alone or if it’s because he knows you keep any of the clothes that he leaves at your place there. And he’s been staying over more lately so he’s got more things in there.

You head off to your room to change and take off your make-up. It’s not late, it was only a happy hour after all, but you’re feeling kind of drained from the day. It seems you’re not the only one, though, because by the time you come back into the living room, Jungkook is in sweatpants scrolling through shows to watch. 

“Do you want some ramen?” you ask as you’re heading into the kitchen.

“Always,” he calls back without missing a beat.

It’s just something easy and you don’t really have the energy to put together a whole meal when you snacked on finger food while socializing. You also don’t feel like ordering anything because there’s every chance that you will end up falling asleep on the couch with Jungkook. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jungkook settles on some ridiculous house show by the time you bring out two bowls of ramen and it’s nice because it’s just something mindless to have on in the background. He knows that you have a lot on your mind, has gotten really good at reading your body language. But he’s gotten really good at reading your cues too and so he won’t bring it up now. He knows that you’ll talk to him about it when you’re ready and you know that even though he’s not asking, he still cares. It’s a weird kind of comfort that you don’t think too much about. 

With your bowls set aside, Jungkook respositions so that he can lay his head in your lap. Your fingers immediately start to run through his hair without even thinking about it. His eyes fall closed at the sensation. He’s told you more than once that it’s one of his favorite things, that it just feels nice. 

He’s not someone that needs to be protected, you know that, but it’s easy to forget when he’s got his head in your lap like this. It makes you remember that he is a couple of years younger, even though lately he’s been the one supporting you. It’s so endearing to see him relaxed like this. It’s hard to tell if he’s asleep or just on the edge, but his breathing is even and soft. You can’t really help it when you lean down to press a kiss to his temple. His eyelashes flutter open and he turns his head to look up at you.

“I think I fell asleep,” he admits shyly. 

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

“I was just so comfortable,” he adds and you smile.

“Maybe we should go to bed?” you ask and watch his face. 

“It’s early,” he says and there’s a slight whine.

“So?” you ask and laugh before adding, “besides, if you fall asleep, I’ll be stuck.”

He grumbles at that, but moves anyway. Once he’s off your lap, you stretch out your legs and he reaches a hand out to pull you up. You shake your head when he heads off to the bedroom. For someone who protested, he didn’t actually put up a fight. 

You both brush your teeth and then change into something to wear to sleep in. When you come into the bedroom, Jungkook is sliding his sweatpants and t-shirt off to sleep in his boxers. You’re not really sure when this routine became a routine between the two of you. Honestly, you still remember the first time he spent the night and being glad that you had a big bed. He takes up way more than his fair share, but you’ve somehow gotten used to it.

Jungkook is also very cuddly when he sleeps, which was pretty different from how you usually sleep. Another thing you don’t remember getting used to. You’re not fully ready to fall asleep, though, so you let him pull you into him and tuck your head under his chin. He’s got one hand resting lightly on your hip and you settle in deeper.

Thankfully he doesn’t seem to be ready to sleep yet, either, so he tells you about his day before coming to get you. The shoot seems to have gone well, not that it’s surprising. Jungkook liked to be good at anything he did. At first, posing didn’t come naturally to him. Sure, he was beautiful, but his facial expressions were…well, they weren’t great. He’s gotten over that, though, and he’s really enjoying it, sees it from the artistic side. Once he understands where they’re going, it’s all easier for him. 

Happy hour isn’t something he usually likes to go to. He likes the people he works with, especially Jin, who’s helped him a lot with being more comfortable posing. It just feels like a lot to ask, sometimes, and he likes to know he has someone to retreat to if he needs them. Which is why he’s so happy you agreed to come. You’re happy too. The two of you spend a lot of time immersed in your world and you realize you enjoy seeing his world as well. 

Why does it always seem easier to say everything in the dark?

This isn’t what you had in mind when you brought Junkook back to your apartment. Not that you had anything in mind, really. Yet you still end up whispering all your thoughts and feelings into his skin, not wanting to fully break the bubble of silence around you. He prompts you to continue when you pause, asks questions to get you to think about how you’re really feeling, helps you admit things without feeling judged. All he wants is for you to be able to express yourself to someone you’re comfortable with. You’re not really sure when that person became him. 

Jungkook’s been quiet for a few minutes and you look up to see if he’s still awake. Of course he is and he’s looking down at why you pulled a little bit away from him. 

You’re not really sure which one of you starts it, but your lips are pressed together in the softest kiss. Both trying to express appreciation for the other and not entirely sure how to do it. Honestly, you’re not sure if you can ever fully express how much you needed something as simple as happy hour. You did, though. Needed something to remind you that the life you built isn’t going anywhere just because Hoseok reappeared. 

Maybe you don’t know who started the kiss, but you know you’re the one to deepen it when you slide your tongue across Jungkook’s lower lip. And he gives up control of the kiss so easily, letting your tongue explore. Letting your hand move to tangle in his hair. Gripping your skin harder when you throw a leg over his hip. 

It’s kind of an awkward position, but you want to be close to him. Want to feel his skin connecting with yours. Part of you just wants to check that he’s real, that he’s really here and not running away after hearing everything you said. You’re not used to anyone knowing this much of you and accepting it without question. You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Maybe you’re starting to realize it won’t.

Jungkook presses himself into your core and you can feel that he’s already getting hard. It pulls a groan out of you. You just want want want. And maybe it’s not exactly the best timing. You’re not sure that you care. 

You’re the first one to pull away, rolling over to start pulling your clothes off. Jungkook is quick to follow suit and quicker to get undressed. He props himself up on an elbow and trails his fingers down your body, watching as you arch into his touch. But he seems to realize you just want right now. And he doesn’t tease you. He runs his fingers through your folds a couple of times, collects the wetness on his fingers, and slides a finger in. 

Somehow he’s always able to read your body perfectly, knows exactly what you need, and you moan out when he adds a second finger. He’s alternating the pace, sharp thrusts and much slower ones. Your moans mingle with the praises that fall so easily from his lips. All you can do is grip your hands into the sheets to try and keep yourself grounded. But just as he’s working you toward your release, his fingers still and your eyes snap open to look at him. For someone who always knows what you need, he’s got a lot of nerve to just stop suddenly like that. 

And then, possibly worse, he withdraws his fingers and puts them into his own mouth. Why does this man have to be so hot? Without even thinking about it, your fingers lace into his hair and you pull him to your lips, loving the slight taste of you.

“Roll over on your side, away from me,” Jungkook whispers, low and almost hoarse.

You do, though. Jungkook’s got one arm underneath your neck as he presses himself into your back. He grinds lightly against your ass and you still just want. Want him inside of you, want him to unravel you, want him to consume you, just want him. Always want him. 

Behind you, Jungkook brings his other hand to his cock and lines it up at your entrance. You arch your back so that he has better access and you can feel his head pressing against you. He rubs his head against you, taking advantage of you still being wet and trying to use it to coat himself. In another second, he presses again and slides in. There’s no time to adjust as he fucks all the way into you and you scream out. 

You know each other’s limits, have talked about things that are okay and things that aren’t. Things you might like to try and things that you just aren’t into. Usually you wonder if he remembers, since he doesn’t push often. Tonight, you know he’s listened, when his hand lightly closes around your throat. 

But there isn’t much time to process that because his other arm is hooking under your leg to lift it up and give him better access. The combination of him fucking hard into you and the light pressure at your throat would be a lot even if you hadn’t already been close. 

This position isn’t something you usually see as intimate. Not that you mind it a quick hard fuck, but usually you need eye contact for the intimacy. Yet this feels incredibly intimate. And the contrast between that feeling and the fast pace is really sending you into overdrive.

“I need you to hold on for me babe, you can’t come yet,” Jungkook says into your ear.

His pace slows a little and he let’s go of his grip on your throat. You whimper a little at being so close and him pulling back again. Okay, maybe he is teasing you a little. Such a shithead.

“Please Jungkookie,” you say, beg really, voice betraying how badly you need him. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, all confidence. 

Even though he picks up the pace again, you’re still trying not to let go too early. Everything just feels amplified, though. Everything feels like it’s too much and somehow still not quite enough. It’s overwhelming but in the best way. You’re trying not to release, but you’re clenching around Jungkook all the same.

“It’s okay babe, come for me,” he says into your ear.

That’s all it takes. You’ve never been one to wait for permission like this, don’t really know why you’re doing it now. The orgasm that rips through you is intense, though, and your whole body is tingling. You’re releasing things you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

As you come back down, you’re oversensitive and overstimulated, but you want Jungkook to finish inside you. You want to know that he feels as good as you do. So you do your best to meet his thrusts, try to clench around him, murmur words of encouragement. 

His thrusts get messy and a moment later, he’s releasing inside you. You take over and slowly rock back against him until he drops your leg. His hand on your hip tells you to still. Idly, you think that anyone else breathing so heavily against your neck would bother you. Except right now it doesn’t. Right now it just feels nice to still be close. 

Jungkook eases himself out of you and even though you’re both tired, you drag him off to the shower. Lazily, you wash each other off, enjoying the closeness of the moment, not talking about how domestic it is, not talking about the level of comfort between you. It’s just…kind of nice to have someone show that kind of care in making sure you’re cleaning off. 

When you’re out of the shower, Jungkook wanders off into the spare room, probably to find something else to sleep in that’s clean. In your room, you get dressed quickly and then strip the sheets of your bed, wanting to sleep on fresh ones. Jungkook comes back in wearing a pair of gym shorts and helps you remake the bed. It’s quiet in the room again, but not in an uncomfortable way. It’s like the ease of doing something you’ve done a million times before. Even though the two of you haven’t really ever done this before. Sure, you’ve had a lot of sex and you’ve even tried shower sex (which you would not recommend, honestly). But it hasn’t been like this.

And maybe the weirdest part is that you’re not thinking any of it is weird. You’re not really thinking about it at all. It just feels easy, natural. The two of you get back into bed and Jungkook pulls you against him. This time, there are no words whispered in the dark because there really isn’t anything left to say. If you were anxious going to meet Hoseok, you’re completely at ease now. Nothing else seems to matter.

i hope you enjoyed it! and also are prepared because we've still got kind of a ride. who'd you like to see as endgame?

[aureli-us]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

i was tagged by @2lim3rz but the og post was getting pretty big, so i remade it!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

30! soon to be 31 😎

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

1,166,343. 😳 woah

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mainly skyrim! it's my most beloved, my bread and butter. however i recently also wrote for one piece, dragon age, spiderverse, and some older stuff for jojo's and star trek!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. apocrypha

2. dragonmark

3. smut drabbles (not really a fic but im lazy)

4. break of dawn

5. sic parvis magna

5. Do you respond to comments?

ALWAYS‼️ i love love LOVE commentors and do my best to respond within 1-3 days!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

UGH i wish i could but i don't often do REALLY angsty endings. so this would probably have to be dragonmark, since it ends with tharya and miraak quite estranged from one another and quite a frosty exchange of dialogue, as well as setting up for the next fic (which ends a teensy bit angsty as well, but not really)

possible runnerup to this is from the new world with love, since it ends rather ambiguously on what happens next.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

easily revenant. it's a rollercoaster of a fic, approx 40 chapters iirc, but ends with the thing i set out to do when i initially started writing the first & last series :3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

NO, but i have gotten bot comments! i'll take it as a mark of fame 💅 lmao (jk i have no allusions of grandeur)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

YES. YES. YES. i'm probably a boring smut writer bc i kinda just write tharya and miraak over and over and over and over and over. but i do enjoy experimenting with them!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not really - though i did write a dragon break fic once and asked a few other writer friends to lend me their characters for it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?  

nope! would be cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

also not really, but for that same dragon break fic i had those writer friends write scenes and brainstorm with me to fit everything together! so in a way, sort of :)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

god....would it make sense to say even though i write, i'm not very active in fandoms? i've never really considered myself well and truly a PART of a fandom (aside from skyrim), just someone who likes to orbit the fandom and extract ideas from the source content. so i don't have many fandom/canon ships i like. can i say my own characters instead??? if so. my ldb/miraak 10000000%

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

hmm....well, it was arms of chaos before i gave up and deleted it. i have two longstanding WIPs (jojo fic and miguel fic) but i'm in love with their content and ideas, so i do have full intentions to finish them both! might just take a while

16. What are your writing strengths?

i would say putting emotion and description into my work. i LOVE trying to perfectly capture emotions as i feel them, even if that sometimes means the way they get written can be unorthodox. and, ofc, im obsessed with describing stuff all. the. time.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

description is a double edged sword LMAO😭 sometimes (most times) i go way too overboard or in depth. i also have a hard time writing kids 💀 and am not the best at writing normal fluff, i always need some kind of emotion or drama or problem/underlying plot to latch onto. i really wish i was, bc then i could write the cyrodiil vacation fic i've been dreaming of for two years

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

supporter! i do it occasionally with miraak and tharya. the original shōgun miniseries from i think the 80s is what first showed me that not all dialogue needs to be understood by the audience - in fact, it can be a powerful plot device when it isn't. so i'm a big fan of untranslated dialogue (in moderation) when it serves a purpose. otherwise i just denote the dialogue is in a different language after writing it in english.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

god....probably transformers (i've gotten over that shame and am now in love w transformers again)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

i often say revenant because it is in a way my crowning glory. but it's also stuck in my old style of writing (which is not bad, just less matured imo, and more flighty). but revenant is probably my fav ever content for a fic, it's something i wanted to write for like 4yrs before i did - from the new world with love is the only fic currently completed in my newer, aged wine style, and i really enjoy that one as well!

((but my coming soon fic is probably gonna take the cake whenever it drops))

i'll tag @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @nuwanders @elventhief @nusaran and absolutely leave an open tag for anyone who wants to do it :) tag me so i can see it!

[polkadotpatterson]

Hi hello for the ask game: 🍓🫐☀️ (with sun being, if you want - two quotes from an earlier and recent work respectively that are thematically linked/reprises of each other 👀)

🍓 favorite poetic quote from a wip

honestly I feel like 90% of my poetic ability goes into my PMD fic which I have not touched in ages but I swear I do fully intend to finish it bc it's very dear to my heart and I'm pretty darn proud of it. anyway here's a bit from the half-finished chapter that's been sitting in my drafts since uuuuhhhhh. don't worry about it

And so you climb. Past the clinging flowers and the skeletons of trees, past the soft blue-green streams, past rocks the colour of lightning that grow more jagged and angry the further you go. And all the while, the vortex of clouds tightens around you, the dark gray-purple-black of Zapdos’ rage throbbing like a bruise on the sky. There's thunder beneath your feet and thunder above your head and thunder in your mind and the world is nothing but thunder, but you keep going.

🫐 a line from a published work that you’re proud of, but no one’s mentioned yet - or if you can’t think of one, an underrated line in general

well since we're already on the subject of PMD, here's a little bit about how mesmerizing oceans can be, just for you :)

The sea. The sea. It stretches out in front of you forever, a limitless expanse of water fading into the horizon. Your pond looks like an insignificant puddle next to the ever-changing ocean, this bright blue world that you could explore for the rest of your life and never see all of. Before you know it, you're right up at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the clouds as they glide across the water to join the waves in a hypnotic dance. You want to dive in and wrap yourself in all of it, let it surround you like a blanket. You want to leap through the waves until you’ve forgotten what it's like to walk on land. You want to dissolve into seafoam and fade into the deep. You-- You feel a nudge on your shoulder.

the pmd world is beautiful and also kinda messed up and that's a very fun combo to write :)

☀️ asker’s choice of published work: two quotes from an earlier and recent work respectively that are thematically linked/reprises of each other

hehe nice sun 2 reference :) well ok how can I see Themes and Reprise and not go right for Dot's rhythm. I looooove incorporating that into their pov, not just the literal recurring one-two-three but the way they often think and talk in three words or sentences at a time, and how at first they do it more when they're hyperfixated on pitching or going full No Thoughts Only Blaseball, but gradually come to both do it less and also reclaim it as their own thing and not something forced on them by the gods... yeah ok this is gonna get a bit long let me slap a readmore on it lol

there are soooo many instances to pull from here but I think the best parallel is probably from over and over and then over again, where they spend the whole fic feeling guilty and trapped in being unable to do anything but be a Perfect Pitcher even when it's the absolute last thing their team needs from them, helpless against the power of the gods as they watch the innings tick on and their teammates in more and more danger, spending hours of practice afterwards trying to not be perfect for once and the gods simply won't let them...

One. Two. Three. The blaseball makes a perfect rhythm even outside of the game, always hitting the wall within the boundaries of the ever-present rectangle they can see in their mind, strikeout after strikeout after strikeout. Dot reaches out fingers to draw the ball back to them after each throw, not needing to move from their spot. One. Two. Three. Perfect. Chosen. Unstoppable. One. Two. Three. Heartless. Ruthless. Unstoppable. What does Jaylen do, when everything is pounding loud in her head and the world is too big and too small all at once and everyone stares at her with hate and fear and she knows that her hands and her life aren't hers anymore and probably never will be again? Dot doubts that the answer is “more pitching”. One. Two. Three. Throw it somewhere else. Anywhere else. Stop doing the same thing over and over and over again.  Why? the gods demand. This is perfection. This is what you are. This is a gift that many would kill to have. You think too much of killing, Dot tells them. One. Two. Three.

versus it’s how I know that I’m still here where Dot has finally been unlearning their whole I'm Just A Pitcher thing and with the alternative being losing everyone they love, they finally fight and take their power and use it for something different, use it to tear holes in reality and come home :')

“You are not the only gods who gave me powers.” The squid? The squid is nothing. Without us, you are nothing, too. “Then I would rather be nothing. Take my stars. Take my pitching. Take my life. Take whatever else you want, but you can't take me. And you can't take my family, either.”  You know not what deal you are making. It will not end well for you. It is better to give in. Almost there. They’re almost there. They kick and push and struggle against the tide, watch the right world come back into focus. Almost there. Just a few more strokes. Reach the shore. One. “This is non-negotiable. I am taking what is mine. Myself.” Two. “I won’t let you steal me anymore. I have learned a thing or two about stealing. More than even you know.” Three. Stop that! Someone must take your place. You cannot stay in this world. “I'm through with being told what I can't do. I'm through with being dragged around. I'm through with all of it.” The field is within reach now, their teammates standing confused and concerned under the Dallas sky, the right Dallas sky. Dot had never thought of it as home, but they realize now how foolish they’ve been; everything in this world is home, all of it, and they’re through taking that for granted. You cannot run from us forever. We will find you. We --  “Don't talk to me in threes. This is my rhythm now. Not yours, never again.”

you tell em Dot!!! this is a pretty incoherent post lol but I went into it in more detail here back in the day

[imagine--if]

Hello! May I request a Riddler x GN Reader where they're both in Arkham and Reader's cell in front of his? Like- them chatting and him developing a crush

-🐰

A/N: You absolutely can 😁 idk why but Eddie with a partner in crime s/o like this is one of my favourite scenarios 👏🏼 it also reminds me of my first ever Riddler imagine that's got over 1K likes?!? I'm working on the next To My Hope chapter and some more matchups for you all too for soon 😍

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: The reader's kinda crazy, fluff and stuff 💚

•♡ Apart from the one ‘friend’ in Arkham near your cell, you kind of do your own thing and have fun creeping out guards and taking not of weak areas to help you and the friend to get out

•♡ Then comes The Riddler and the man with soft brown hair and clear-frame glasses who cries on his first night and rambles about nothing… right opposite your cell

•♡ You’re interested and kind of find it cute, so when you make the first move by introducing yourself you just watch as Edward jumps in shock and his green eyes go wide because he realises you’re talking to him in a sane kind of way??

•♡ And you’re pretty?!?!!! 😍

•♡ Expect a complete questioning from this man, he’s so curious about who you are and what you’ve done and everything about you - meanwhile, he doesn’t really find anything to brag about himself but is very proud of his riddling chaos

•♡ Of course, you’ve seen it all on the news from the guards’ office and he blushes really hard at your praise… until the Joker crashes the moment with a stupidly timed joke 🙃

•♡ If you’re an outright loud crazy person, Eddie admires and finds it funny and hot when you play up with the guards and try to manipulate them, flirting and stuff to get your way, but then finds himself jealous that they’re getting more attention than he could be lol

•♡ If you’re subtly crazy and are the type of person to give people long, wide-eyed stares and too-large smiles, he probably copies you and only really talks to you in Arkham- well, you and J

•♡ The three of you seem to be the only ones with a true ‘purpose’ in the nuthouse and Edward will hint at you being his future partner in crime because you’re smart and amazing and he can’t stop thinking about you even though it’s literally been two days

•♡ When he tells you stuff about the orphanage he can get really raw with his emotions, so you’ve learnt to do a thing where you press your hands against the glass as if you’re actually touching, and it comforts Ed and makes him focus on you again 🥰

•♡ You’re the only one he really confides in about future plans and likes hearing your voice and stuff like that; a lot of his visions have you with him in the same home and described as pretty close… which always makes him go red and avoid eye contact when you ask about it in amusement

•♡ Sometimes you’ll just catch him staring at you as he thinks about you crushing the corrupt together and being a double threat power couple for The Batman to deal with as payback for his cruel rejection, which gets Edward overexcited 😅

•♡ He gives you a lot of random compliments and love struck, longing gazes from across the hall, like “You’re really beautiful… like an angel… with the perfect edge to do what has to be done.”

•♡ Eddie’s saying it half to himself and half to you, so when you raise a brow and smile at him like “Um, thanks, Eddie,” he blushes and smiles and looks down, “Y-you’re welcome…”

•♡ At the end of the first week of knowing each other he wants you two to be a couple already and much closer than you’re restricted to be, and J’s getting the escape plans all timed out - and will end up being some weird version of a matchmaker 😏

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[i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this]

Together (Space Mark X GN Reader)

Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Summary- When you wake up again you are quickly thrown back into being the captain. You also have to deal with the fact you are on bed rest for the next couple of days. You also have to deal with the fact that Burt now knows about whatever is going on between you and Mark.

TWs- mentions of stitches, still in medbay (Hospital), CC being kinda an asshole. 1044 words

update- So only a couple days until I met my long-distance s/o for the first time after a year and a half! I'm so excited. Though I won't be writing when they are up here I have some stuff queued up for this week/ weekend. I don't know if I'll have the next chapter done this weekend! I'm going on vacation a week after my s/o leaves, but I'll probably write there lol. Just updates lol.

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No Real spoilers for ISWM part 1 or 2 but may change as the story goes on, so check for spoiler warnings!!!!

The next time you woke up in the med bay, it wasn't as nice as the first time You heard the voices of CC and Gunther arguing over something and the buzz of the medics working. You let out a small groan, and the arguing stopped as they went to look at you. 

You opened your eyes and winced a bit. Once your eyes adjusted to the light you looked around and saw your crew leads. The first person you saw was Mark who sat on the edge of your bed, holding your hand. Then your eyes trailed over to where Gunther leaned on the bedside table, CC right across from him. At the foot of your bed was Burt being Burt. 

“You feeling okay captain?” Mark asked softly, gripping your hand. 

“Yeah, I feel a lot better. Though I do still have my headache, Though I think I have it because I woke up to arguing” You answered giving a look to Gunther and CC.

Gunther looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. CC turned bright red and quickly said, 

“I am so sorry captain, I just needed to get through Gunther's thick head that we can't-” she stopped when you raised your other hand. 

“It’s fine, just try not to yell at each other in Med bay. You could disturb the other patients.”

you said and they nodded. You then looked at Mark, 

“How's everyone else? I saw quite a few people injured before I went out,” you asked, He smiled. Well, that was a good sign.

“Nothing too serious, the worst case was a few broken bones and CC’s hypothermia, but as you can see she's feeling fine.” You nodded with a small smile, 

“Good, I'm glad you're okay CC.” You said and she quickly replied with a thank you.

“What's the state of the ship?” you asked. You trusted your crew leads, but things could happen. 

“Everything is working and everything is on schedule, Glad you're okay Captain ” Burt answered, and you gave a smile to him. 

“Well, I’m glad you guys didn't burn down the ship while I was out. Good job guys, I'm very proud of all of you.” You complimented them. 

“Of course cap’n, you get some rest and we'll take care of everything else,” Gunther stated with an unlit cigar in his mouth (They wouldn't let him light it in medical). 

The head doctor walked up to your little group. She cleared her voice, getting everyone's attention. 

“Well good news is that you don't have a concussion, Bad news is that we had to give you stitches for your head wound. “She said, closing the notebook. 

“It’d be best if you rest and stay here for a few days so we can keep an eye on those stitches. If it would be more comfortable we could move you to your quarters.” She explained. You nodded your head, 

“If possible I’d like to be moved to my quarters. Thank you, doctor.” You answered as she nodded and moved on. You let out a small sigh. 

“So it looks like I’ll be bed-bound for a bit. I’ll still be able to do remote work, but for anything else, I’ll have you report to Mark. He has the same security clearance as me.” You explained. You saw Mark beamed with the pride of you trusting him so much. CC had a confused and surprised look on her face. 

“Captain, you can’t be serious. “ She said. You raised an eyebrow replying, 

“I am dead serious Celcionna, Mark is my right hand and I trust him with my life. I expect you all to treat him the same way you treat me.” 

You had a stern look on your face, hand gripping mark’s as a surprised (but happy) expression fell on his face. CC's eyes widened and she looked away. You only used her full name when you were pissed and she knew this. She lowered her head and mumbled, 

“Yes, captain.”  You nodded and looked over at Mark as the others started to leave the room. Burt winked at you both and closed the privacy curtains on his way out. 

You looked at Mark with a confused look, He had a sheepish smile and said, 

“Burt found me cuddled up next to you in the bed. I was able to get him to promise not to tell anyone, but only after he gave me a 30-minute monologue about love.” He ended with a small laugh, which you joined. 

You both came to a stop as you met eyes. He moved closer, placing a hand on your cheek. 

“I’m glad your okay captain.” He softly stated, rubbing your cheeks. You smiled and leaned into him. 

“Thanks for coming to my rescue handsome,” you replied, a bright blush covering his face. He grinned, 

“Always for you captain.” he softly stated. You took his hand from his face and held it in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. You shyly looked away before saying, 

“You know I wouldn't have minded if Burt had told a few people.” Mark let out a soft laugh, 

“ I don’t think Burt could only tell a few people, but.” He hesitated, “ I don’t think I would have minded much, either,” he said. He beamed at you before finishing, 

“Though I’d much prefer it if people found out from us.”You turned back to look at him, 

“Me too, Mark,” you said before the doctor came back in. Mark stood up from the bed. The doctor and Mark helped you into a wheelchair and moved you to your quarters. 

You smiled as you were finally back “Home”. They had moved your normal bed somewhere else and had put the medical bed. The doctor rambled off about things you shouldn't do and what you could do as Mark lifted you into the bed and helped you adjust. You nodded and thanked the doctor and she left. 

Now it was just you and Mark alone. You looked up at him as he once again sat down next to you. 

“I think it’s about time we talked about us.” You softly said, grabbing Mark’s hand and letting him know you meant no ill intentions. He smiled, 

“Yeah, us.”

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Thanks for reading <3

[theohnocorral]

Just finished Allies or enemies newest chapter!!

First off- you’re killing me with that cliffhanger. I am dying. It is fatal. How could you? Though I am very excited to see if my theories about Reader’s backstory are close or not. I’m also just excited in general to see what happens next 👀 Ya got me hanging off the edge of my seat

Secondly yikes. Poor sun, moon, and reader. None of them are having a good day, a couple of days to be exact lol. You weren't joking in that opening note when you said moon was suffering. It was nice seeing sun and moo talk with the kids though! And it was incredibly sweet of them to share the cake as well ;-; Tempted to get me some cake now but alas it is late at night. Got myself sidetracked sorry but yeah jeez, they’re all going through something. It’s sad seeing what Reader’s thinking but kudos to you for how you displayed and wrote their grief. Idk if what I’m saying makes sense. Anywho! Sorry for the rambles, there would be more but I am struggling to keep my eyes open so I’m signing off for now! Can’t wait to see the next part and keep up the wonderful work :0

Ah, my apologies on the fatal diagnosis, mayhaps knowing the next chapter is in the works will help? I have to keep the tension high, 😅

👀 theories you say? Lol, I probably can't confirm or deny, but I'd love theories in my ask box, I was wondering how people were piecing everything together so far

As for the rest, no worries about rambling, I'm really glad you're enjoying it! Yes, the kids are very cute, and surprisingly kind of relevant to the plot(kinda?) but I wanted a cute moment in there somewhere too, lol.

Literally everyone in this story is kinda going through it, this is not the first time I've been told I write grief very well, idk what that says about me, but thank you nonetheless!

[joel-millerr]

What’s Your Favorite Color?

Chapter Seven of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.2k

Summary: reader is stuck on the Crest with Mando and the kid. what should be an uneventful trip turns into something that changes everyone on board.

Warnings: SMUT! rough sex, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, praise kink(?), aftercare, depictions of death, mentions of mental illness (even though the reader doesn’t explicitly say it--it’s more implied), slight spit play?

A/N: ok so this might be the dirtiest thing I've written but I'm just so proud of where this story is going and I hope you guys enjoy. also, the entire chapter takes place on the crest, and it’s one day :)

also big shoutout to @eznova​ who helped me with this chapter. LOVE U

--

I worry that your own attachment to the Mandalorian will be your undoing.

That eerie reminder echoes over and over in your mind as you wake up from one of the best nights of your life. It’s hard to control the stupid, shit-eating grin plastered on your face as you lie in Mando’s cot. You’re alone, but his scent—a delicious mix of soap and musk, fill your nostrils and if you close your eyes and focus hard enough, you can imagine him laying right next to you, wrapping strong, tree trunk sizes arms around you and placing chaste kisses all over your skin.

You couldn’t have planned falling for Mando so deeply and so quickly as you have, mainly considering that you haven’t known each other for very long, but you know damn well that if given the opportunity, you’d do everything over again.

Stars, you don’t even know what his name is.

What is his first name?

Should you ask him? You don’t want to come off imposing, and there’s a part of you that wants to wait until he chooses to share that information with you, rather than try to wrestle it out of him, but he’s shrouded in mystery, and that just reels you in even more. You really want to pick his brain, figure out what makes him him, but you don’t know if you’ll ever get that chance. There’s the possibility though, that after last night, he’ll be more vulnerable around you. Maybe you’ll both be more vulnerable and inclined to share each other’s pasts. After all, you’ve been pretty intimate with each other.

When you finally decide it’s probably time for you to get out of bed and face the potential awkwardness that could happen between you and Mando, the door to the cubby hole hisses open, with neither the kid nor Mando in sight. Your feet touch down on the cold ship’s floor, and you slip into your boots. Once on your feet, you feel an ache at the apex of your thighs. It stings and you have to basically have to walk with your thighs spread apart in order to ease some of the uncomfortableness between your legs. Every move you make is a reminder of the night before. You can even feel him inside you, stretching your walls to hug him perfectly. Kriff, you’re already wet and you only just woke up.

Hoping a sanisteam will wipe away the crude thoughts from your barely conscious mind, you take to the fresher and wake yourself up with a brisk rinse. Once you’re out and throw on yesterday clothes—you make a mental note to wash your only other garments, you’re about to head up to the cockpit when you hear Mando’s voice. Stopping at the ladder, you listen in on what he’s saying.

“…but you have to agree to go with them if they want you to. Understand?” His’s voice goes quiet for a moment. “Plus, I can’t train you. You’re too…powerful. Don’t you want to learn more of that Jedi stuff?”

It’s a damn shame how last night you had heard his true voice for the first time, unmodulated but still as deep and rough as it sounds with the distortion of his helmet, and probably won’t be privy to it for a while. You wish you could hear him, like really hear him, naked and untapped again but even if you don’t, it’ll just make last night even more significant.

You hear the Child coo in response before hearing Mando’s cadence again. “I agreed to take you back to your own kind, so that’s what I need to do.” There’s a brief pause. “You understand that, right?”

For the first time, you detect some sadness in Mando’s tone. Like he’s trying to reassure not only the kid but also himself that he needs to go through with this, that even though there might be a part of him that doesn’t want to let the Child go, in the end he has no choice in the matter. It tugs at your heartstrings. The Mandalorian, a seasoned warrior, a survivor, a bounty hunter—at war with himself and his own feelings.

You can’t help but feel guilty as well. Ahsoka had warned you that one day, you too would have to make a choice but after last night… It’s no longer as clear-cut as you initially thought it would be. Had this come to you even just six months ago, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. You’d make the choice of being a Jedi, and forgo all attachments and dedicate your life to the Order. It wouldn’t be hard for you to set all your feelings aside—you’ve had many years of practice on that subject, but now things are completely upside down. It’s territory you’ve never been in before and Maker, that terrifies you. The longer you journey with the Mandalorian, the more you become weaved together like vines wrapping themselves around a duracrete structure. Similar to the ancient temples on Naboo, tightening and gripping in every nook and cranny until it’s impossible to separate one without destroying the other.

When you reach the floor of the cockpit, you watch Mando sit ever still in the pilot’s chair, with Grogu seated to his right. Your boots hitting the ground as you walk alerts the Child, his ears twitching in your direction and he giggles excitedly, holding that little durasteel ball in his hands.

“Morning,” you announce as you plop down in the seat to Mando’s left. Grogu peers at you with big eyes and makes grabby hands at you, so lean over and bring him into your lap.

“How long until we reach Coruscant?”

“A day or two,” he answers curtly, keeping his visor glued to the blues of hyperspace through the transparisteel.

“Oh, okay. Looks like we’ll have time to kill then.”

Mando rises from his seat, turns his body to you for just a moment before announcing his leave. “Does your blaster need cleaning?”

“Uh—maybe?”

He offers you a quick dip of the helmet before leaving the cockpit in one swift movement and heading down the ladder. Your eyebrows pull together as you stare at the empty doorway to the little room you and the Child are still seated in. Looking down at him, you whisper, “Why do I get the feeling he’s avoiding me?”

Grogu bats his eyes at you before gently sucking on the ball still firmly gripped in his claws. It’ll always amaze you how attached he is to that sphere. You might never know why it’s so important to him but then again, you suppose that it’s a secret between him and his caregiver.

“I wish I knew what was going on in that mind of his,” you confess—not necessarily to Grogu, but since he’s the only one around, you feel almost compelled to spew your concerns and confusions about everything that’s happened.

“What do we do, little guy? I suppose since you’ve had training, you’ll probably want to be found by a Jedi, right?”

Grogu mumbles something at you and for just a second, you think he might understand you.

“And you’re okay with leaving him?”

He coos almost sadly, and you can hear your heart shattering. This little creature has grown such an attachment to Mando. It’s exactly what Ahsoka said—Mando’s basically his father and truthfully, if your parents were still alive, you couldn’t imagine leaving them to join a group that shuns on attachments. It would take a strength that you couldn’t muster to pull yourself away from them, not after knowing the kind of pain of having to live without them.

“I’m scared, Grogu. Truthfully, I have no idea what to think about all this.”

Of course, he doesn’t say anything. He’s not even really paying attention, too busy staring at the little ball in his hands. It’s okay, though. It’s enough just for you to express your concerns aloud. Your mind can get cluttered if you think about everything all at once. The moments you convey your thoughts verbally, it forces you to focus on what you’re actually saying, rather than all the hypotheticals that bounce around in your head.

“Should I go down there?”

Again, Grogu says nothing, he doesn’t even look up at you. Eyeing where Mando sat just minutes ago, you feel like a teenager. You’re both adults, you can’t just tiptoe around each other, it’s not like there are many places to hide on the Crest, anyway. If he won’t come to you, you’ll just have to go to him.

Holding Grogu close to your chest, you take to the ladder and head down, being mindful not to accidentally hit his head on the rungs. Just as you reach the hull, you notice Mando facing one of the crates, his blaster completely taken apart, wiping the coil with a dirty rag. Placing Grogu in the bunk to your left, you lean on another crate and watch Mando dissect his weapon and clean every little bit of residue off his gun.

“How’s your shoulder?” Mando asks, back still turned to you.

“It’s fine, kinda aches a bit but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you answer, transfixed at the way Mando meticulously cleans his weapons. He’s nothing if not thorough.

“Mmm,” he hums low in his throat. The sound reminds you of the mind-altering grunts he made the night before when he was balls deep inside you, causing you to rub your thighs together at the memory. That sanisteam was supposed to get of these filthy thoughts.

It becomes suddenly very awkward in the hull and you get the feeling that you might be lingering. He clears his throat a few times but says nothing. There may not come another time where you could try to learn more about Mando, so now seems like right time. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you muster up the strength to finally ask him, “You were born on Mandalore?” Keeping your eyes down, staring at your feet because you just don’t have the nerve to look at him.

“No, Aq Vetina.”

“Oh… I thought—”

“I was a foundling.”

“Like Grogu.”

“Yes,” he answers deep in his throat.

It suddenly makes sense why Mando saved him from the Empire, and why Grogu’s still in his care. He sees himself in the Child. He sees the vulnerability, the childlike innocence and he understands that he is responsible for this little baby, at least until you find a Jedi that is.

“Do all Mandalorians hide their faces?” You ask curiously.

There’s not much that you know about Mandalorians. The few things you do know about them is that they’re almost impossible to find due to the Empire nearly wiping them all out, and that they’re some of the best—if not the best warriors in the galaxy. Given the fact that Mando hasn’t removed his helmet once since you’ve been around (until last night), you can assume he take his Creed very seriously, and can’t help but wonder if the Child has been fortunate to catching a glimpse of his face.

“No,” he answers methodically.

Already feeling like you’re pushing the limits of how many questions you can ask before he finally decides to shut you down and stops being so forthcoming, the genuine curiosity is sadly too strong for you to pull back. It’s not like you’ve ever had this much time around someone so secretive and mysterious as Mando, and there’s just too many pieces to this puzzle that you want to so desperately put together.

“So, why do you do it?”

“This is the—” he begins, but a chuff of air slips through your lips before he can finish speaking. “What?” He asks annoyingly, turning his body around to face you.

“I don’t know…” Your hands motion around you in an effort to find the right words. “I mean you did take off your helmet in front of me last night.”

“I did.” The words come out through gritted teeth.

“So, is the rule that you can’t take off the helmet or that you can’t show your face? Because there is a difference between the two.”

This must catch him off guard because Mando stays silent for a ridiculously long time. The two possibilities are that he’s considering what you’re saying—which you’re beginning to doubt, or he thinks you’re totally out of line and is choosing to ignore you. You have this bad habit of being pretty blunt and somewhat insensitive with the way you express yourself and that’s caused you some issues with others in the past, but it’s always gotten the results you wanted. Honestly, someone like Mando will probably have tough skin, so you’re pretty sure he can handle whatever you throw at him.

“When did this become an interrogation about what I choose and choose not to do?” He grumbles, resting his hands on his utility belt.

“Doesn’t really seem like you’re choosing…” you mumble under your breath, kicking the ground and keeping your eyes to the floor.

“What did you say?” He asks defensively, squaring his shoulders and then taking a step forward. Out of habit, you lean back further against the crate.

“I’m not trying to offend you,” you clarify, using the bottom of your foot to kick off the crate, and straightening your back. “I’m just trying to understand—”

“Why?”

“Well, we’re kinda stuck with each other for who knows how long, so we should take this time to get to know each other, don’t you think?” Raising an eyebrow at him, you rest your hands on your hips, waiting for him to either deflect or finally let his guard down and talk like two normal adults.

“I don’t see how that matters.”

Your jaw literally drops, completely dumbfounded. It during moments like this that you so desperately wish you could see what his facial expression is. Why does he continuously try to keep a distance between himself and every living thing in the galaxy? Is he scared of being vulnerable around someone else? That his reputation as a hardened Mandalorian warrior would be compromised if he so much as shared a tiny bit of information with you? Does he think a Mandalorian would come and strike him down for having his own opinion about his Creed? That questioning the only thing he knew since he was a child would be considered sacrilegious?

It’s pretty silly how worked up you’re getting right now, but the way Mando dismisses you, it stirs up that anger inside you that is so hard to control. He’s always pushing your buttons, just as you push his—only this time, you simply wanted to know a little more about him. Is that too much to ask for?

Do you continue to press him?

Do you let it go?

Announcing your defeat by drawling out a sigh, your hands drop to your sides, looking down at the ground because you can’t be bothered to look at him in the visor anymore. “All right, well I’m going to head up to the cockpit and um…” You try to come up with a quick excuse to leave the room as it’s becoming more and more awkward with each passing second, but unfortunately, nothing comes to mind. You result to turning on your heel and climbing up the ladder without another word, not bothering to wait and see if Mando comes up with something to say before you disappear.

Once you reach the doorway, the blues of hyperspace nearly blind you, and your hand comes up to give shade to your eyes as they adjust to the sudden change in brightness. You’ll need to find something to keep your mind occupied until you enter Coruscant airspace, because you’ll quite frankly drive yourself insane not doing anything, so you walk over to the control panel in front of Mando’s chair and begin running some diagnostics to see at what capacity the hyperdrive is operating at, see if there’s any leakage that you could fix inside the ship and any little thing that might need some maintenance. After running a few tests, you realize that unfortunately, Peli had fixed pretty much every little issue with the ship, so there really is nothing to fix in order to keep yourself busy.

Fuck.

Feeling defeated, you fall back onto your bum and sit on the cold floor, back leaning against one of the walls, resting your right arm on one of the passenger seats. You’ve always hated silence. With nothing to distract yourself with, your mind always ends up wandering, overanalyzing every little minute detail of your life, meticulously going over each moment in time and thinking of all the ways you could have done something different, how the choices you made were wrong, how things would be better off if you did x instead of y. It gnaws at you, until the only thing you feel like you can do to stop the voices inside your mind is to scream and lash out, causing pain to yourself and everyone around you.

Is this the work of the Dark Side or is it just your unstable mind?

Is it both—working together and tearing you apart from the inside out? Slowly picking your brain apart, section by section, nerve ending by nerve ending until all that’s left of you is the worthlessness of your existence, a make-up of atoms and tissue that can’t be controlled or understood?

Stars, you’re doing it again.

You can feel your mind retreating deeper and deeper into itself, wanting to disappear from all of this. Making yourself as small as you can, you pull your knees close to your chest, head dropping down between them while your palms rub the back of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair and clenching so hard you think you might end up ripping some right out of your head.

The harder you pull, the more anxious you become. Heartrate picking up steadily and the lump in your throat growing in size, it’s as if the space around you is screaming, that everything is spinning, which could explain all this anxiety you suddenly feel when in reality, it’s all just in your head. The cockpit is dead silent, there isn’t even the slightest sound coming from down in the hull. Everything is deafeningly still and yet you feel it’s all too loud, and you just want to scream. Scream until you feel your vocal cords explode or until there’s no air left in your lungs. Your body no longer feels like it’s yours, and instead it’s as if you’re just living inside of it, watching everything happen around you but not having any actual control over it.

Fuck fuck fuc kfuck fuck fuck

Being so wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t even hear Mando coming up the ladder. You don’t hear his heavy boots clanking against durasteel. You don’t even hear him speaking to you. All you feel is a presence and when you finally lull your head back and peek through heavy lids, you see Mando—on his fucking knees, trying to comfort you. One of his hands hovering over your figure like he’s not sure whether to touch you or not.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks as softly as he possibly can. It comes out smooth like honey but still sitting at a low register through his helmet.

“I’m fine,” you answer curtly, no longer feeling particularly chatty.

He sighs deep in his throat, and you can tell he wants to ask you again, maybe hoping he’ll get the truth this time, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes a step back and sits down on the chair opposite the one you’re closest to and stays as silent as a statue. While normally you appreciate the company, right now you want to be left alone, but you don’t have the heart to tell him to leave. So, you stay where you are, both acting like the other isn’t there.

As time ebbs on, your breathing has slows down. Mando being there—despite not saying anything, has you distracted. Your mind’s starting to settle on what’s going on at the present time, rather than all the thoughts that clawed at you just minutes ago. Without even realizing it, he’s helped you significantly.

“How old are you?”

Taken aback by his sudden engagement in conversation, you lean into the wall behind you and feel your shoulders touch the cold durasteel.

“Sorry?” you ask, pulling your eyebrows closely together. This might be the first time he’s ever asked you something personal. When Mando asks a question, it’s usually because he’s searching for clarification, not because he’s genuinely curious.

“How old are you?” He repeats.

You tell him your age and he hums in his throat.

“What about you?”

Something like a chuckle emits from his helmet before answering. “Older than you.”

That’s as close to an actual answer as you’ll get from him.

Okay, since you’re back to asking trivial questions about each other, “Is there anything you like to do for fun?”

“Fun?” He echoes.

“Yeah. Like, what do you do for enjoyment?”

He stays silent for much longer than you expected. Maker, does he not know how to have fun? Maybe it’s the way you worded the question?

“What brings you pleasure?”

His head turns to you and cocks ever so slowly to the side. It’s impossible to hide the annoyance on your face. Rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest, a chuff of air releases from your nostrils.

“Forget it.”

“I…don’t know,” he answers somewhat defeatedly. The idea that Mando doesn’t know what having fun is comes as quite a shock to you. Even though you didn’t have much knowledge on Mandalorians, you didn’t expect that they were unable to have fun.

“Okay, forget that question. What’s your favorite color?”

“Who has a favorite color?”

“People, Mando. People have favorite colors.”

“I don’t.” Letting out a gentle laugh, you use the palms of your hands to push against the floor and rise off the ground, slipping into the chair you were leaning on previously. Turning your body in the direction of the Mandalorian sitting across from you, you sit cross legged.

“There isn’t a color that you gravitate towards? One you look at and think, ‘I like that’?”

“I suppose I never thought of it.”

He’s been missing out on so much. How he’s been going through life without having these mundane preferences or opinions on things is…almost unfathomable. Every person you’ve ever met has had these frivolous details that made them different, giving you an insight into their personalities but Mando has no preference on anything. He just…exists.

“I’m assuming you have one?” he asks through the modulator.

“Yellow,” you begin to say. “But not a flashy kind of yellow, more like a dusty, pale yellow.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is that your favorite color?”

“I don’t know, Mando,” you answer with a smile on your face. “I just like how it looks. It’s warm and inviting.”

“Hmmm.”

“I guess… It reminds me of the sun. Back home, the sun would shine so bright, and it was so big. I used to stare at it even though my mother warned me not do that.”

He doesn’t say anything more but given that this might be the longest casual conversation you two have ever had, it’s quite the improvement from just saying a couple words to each other.

“Why do you always wear your armor?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… We’re in hyperspace right now and you’re geared up for battle. Doesn’t it get uncomfortable always wearing your armor? Isn’t it heavy?”

“It is heavy.”

Eyebrows knitting tightly together, your lips press into a thin line, unamused by Mando dancing around your question.

“Are… Are you not even allowed to at least take off your armor in front of another person?”

“I never thought about it. I’m usually alone so it makes sense to keep it on; in case.”

“In case what? We’re not going to get attacked in hyperspace.”

“It’s not impossible.”

“Seriously, Mando. You need to loosen up a bit.”

“I do not need to ‘loosen up’. I’m fine,” he says, a hint of derision in his voice.

“Says the guy in full body armor all the time.”

“It’s practical.”

“Oh, it’s practical,” you mock, a grin creeping up on your lips.

“Yes.”

“Even when you’re fucking someone?” You remark, eyebrow raised.

The visor burns into you. He’s definitely caught off guard by your brass question. Your lips curl into a sly smile, your tongue darting across your bottom lip.

“No one’s complained about it.”

Oh.

It’s kind of silly how angry that statement makes you. Okay, not necessarily angry but it definitely stirs something deep inside you. It’s clear by the way he fucked you last night that you weren’t his first—he’s obviously experienced in that area. However, you can’t help the way your jaw clenches at the thought of someone else crying out his name while he fucks them senseless.

You’re mine.

Thighs rubbing together as you remember Mando’s confession from last night, it’s quickly replaced by the thought of him saying that to someone else. Has he said that to anyone else? Are you reading into this too much? What if the only reason he said it was because it was in the heat of the moment? People say things during intimacy that they don’t necessarily mean… You’re definitely overthinking things, right?

“What are you thinking?” He beckons, voice hitting that part inside of you that nearly has you fucking moaning on the spot. How can a voice be so intoxicating? It’s not even his true voice, it’s distorted and cuts up like static but it has you nearly soaked in your seat.

“Nothing,” you lie, hoping he’ll drop the subject and move on.

He doesn’t.

“You’re quiet and from what I can tell, your heat signature’s gone up.”

Your what? “My heat sig—? No, your helmet must be malfunctioning.”

“Oh,” he rises from his seat slowly, squaring his shoulders as he does but doesn’t take a step towards you. He stays painstaking still, visor never once breaking away from you. “Is that right?”

Stars. Your heartbeat is picking up, palms starting to sweat, and your throat is beginning to close up. Your eyes maintain their gaze, trying to regain some kind of control over the situation. It’s childish, really—always attempting to have even the slightest amount of authority over whatever situation you’re put in with Mando because you never actually have any control. He may fool you into thinking you do, but at the end of the day, Mando is always the one in control.

“Your heat signature is burning up, pretty girl,” he taunts.

Kriff, this is not going the way you want it to go. You can’t be the only one looking foolish right now. If he wants to play the game, you can play it too, and you’ll make damn sure you play it better.

Looking him up and down trying to pinpoint any indication that he may not be as calm and collected as he’s playing off, your eyes drop to the bulge in his pants. As your vision pierces into him, you notice him shift his weight slightly, his hands balled tightly into fists by his sides.

“Why so tense, Mando?”

“I’m not—”

“Oh,” you echo his words from just minutes ago. Slowly slipping out of the chair, you stand to face him, squaring your shoulders. Pleasure heats up deep in your stomach, travelling down to the apex of your thighs, reminding you of how sore you actually are. “Is that right?”

“Stop that,” he warns. You got him.

“Not doing anything,” your voice sounding as innocent as you can while your eyes convey the opposite. You want him to know that you won’t give in so easily.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Do—” he starts but quickly composes himself. Craning his neck, his next words drip out of him slowly. “Drive me crazy.”

“Any of your other friends ever drive you crazy?”

Okay, that was a low blow, but you can’t shake the thought from your mind. For Maker’s sake, you’re an adult. Obviously he’s had lovers before, why is this so hard for you to accept? It’s not like you guys are together, you’re simply stuck with each other for the time being. Not only that, but you’ve had your fair share of men. He doesn’t seem to be jealous about that.

I’ll kill anyone who comes close to you.

“Mmm, are you… jealous?”

“Maker, no.” Lie.

“Then why are your cheeks red?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkfuck

Why does your face always have to give you away? You can play sabacc with the best deadpan expression in the galaxy, but right now you can’t even hide your resentment. How is Mando able to get under your skin and expose your every emotion, every thought? He pulls it out of you and basically presents it to you on a fucking platter.

“Because you annoy the shit out of me.”

“Your body is telling me otherwise.”

“Stop cheating! I can’t read your body heat, that’s not fair.”

“I’m not trying to play fair.”

All right, if this is how he wants to play, you’ll just have to be bolder. Taking a deep breath and exhaling through parted lips, your left foot moves forward, taking one big stride towards Mando, stopping just inches from his breastplate. You can practically feel his own heat vibrating off of him. His fists tighten even more, and you swear you can hear his breathing quicken, cutting up in the helmet.

“You’re not the only one who can play games, Mando.”

He makes a noise in his throat, somewhere between a growl and a groan. Stars, the air is getting thick, you’re all but drunk on this feeling. Your undergarments are stuck to your pussy, drenched with slick, waiting for someone to make the first move. The blood is pounding in your ears, but you try to maintain the best stony stare you can muster. This is a fight you’re not willing to lose. You bite down on your bottom lip, staring into the ‘T’ of his helmet through hooded lids. His chest pushes out slightly and his head angles to the side, just enough for you to see the underneath of his jaw. There’s some stubble poking out from the bottom of his helmet, and you lick your lips at the sight. Wanting to put your lips to his jawline and trail wet kisses along it, gently sucking at his skin. Maker, you might end up losing this if you don’t compose yourself.

“What do you want?” He asks, voice hoarse and low.

“For you to lose,” your answer is honest. You want him to break down and give in, just to give you the slightest bit of power.

Mando lets out this sound, a joyful sound you’ve only heard once or twice before but it nearly throws you for a loop. Hearing him laugh, even if it’s quick and low, fills you up with the greatest amount of delight. To see someone who’s always stoic and serious let out a sound of pure pleasure, it makes up for all the times he purposely chooses to get under your skin. All the moments he infuriates you, it all goes away with the sound of his laugh.

At this moment, you’re grateful that his face is covered because you definitely would have crushed your lips together by now. His helmet actually works to your advantage, holding you back from doing the one thing you would have otherwise done by now.

“I’m not touching you,” he whispers. It sounds less like a statement to you and more like a reminder to himself. He’s fighting his urges just as much as you are, but you will continue to fight this until he breaks, he has to break.

“Then don’t.”

All of sudden, you both hear a disturbance coming from the hull. The kid must be getting into trouble down there.

“I’ll go check on him,” you tell him, choosing not to wait for Mando to say anything in return before making your way to the ladder of the cockpit. Fighting the urge to take one last look at him before disappearing down the rungs, you head down to the hull and see Grogu rummaging through the various crates placed around the Crest. Once he sees you, he shows you a big toothy grin and runs straight for you, arms stretched out. You bend down and pick him up, holding him close to your chest.

“Hey, kiddo. What trouble are you getting yourself into down here?”

Grogu babbles something at you and you smile in return. A small grumble, something like an animal growling, comes from the baby’s stomach and his ears droop down.

“Hungry, little guy? Let’s see what we got for you.”

Walking down the hull with the kid in your arms, you stop at the small closest Mando keeps his ration packs. There aren’t many packs left, just enough to hold all three of you down until you land on Coruscant. After that, you’ll need to buy some more packs. Grabbing one of the packages and a bowl from one of the shelves, you prop the kid on one of the smaller crates and begin emptying the contents of the pack in the durasteel dish.

It’s a dark green looking blob. Quite frankly, you hate ration packs. They always look like food that’s been mashed together into a jelly bar and even despite the fact that once you add water to it so that it actually looks like food, just the sight of it in its raw form is enough to ruin your appetite. The kid doesn’t care about all that though; he’d eat anything you give him. Back on Sorgan, you had seen him eat a frog whole—just swallowed it without even a second thought. It was impressive and yet totally gross at the same time.

Leaving him on the box momentarily, you walk over to the sink in the privy and let a few droplets of water touch the blob in the bowl. Within seconds, the bar transforms into a small bread roll. It’ll hopefully be enough to tie him down for a few hours.

Passing by the ladder, you call out to Mando. “Hey, I’m about to feed the kid. Do you want to come down for a meal?”

“Not hungry. Thank you,” you hear him answer. He never eats with you two. Given that he needs to take off his helmet in order to feed himself, he chooses to wait until you’re both asleep or nowhere in sight, but that doesn’t stop you from asking each time. Part of it is so that he feels included but mostly you hope that one day he’ll choose to sit with you both. One day, you think to yourself.

When you hand the bowl over to Grogu gently, he takes it with both hands and begins eating the bread like it’s the first meal he’s ever had. Your brows pull tightly together as you watch him devour his food. For such a small creature, he sure eats like a bantha. He could probably eat for a whole day without stopping to catch his breath.

It’ll never seize to amaze you just how strong this little guy is. He’s so tiny and somehow, he possesses a power stronger than you could ever really understand. This is the same kid that saved Mando’s life from a mudhorn. This is the kid that swallowed a whole frog that was half his size. A child this small is somehow a Jedi.

Once he’s done eating, he peers up at you with big, black eyes and coos at you.

“Nah, I’m not hungry right now, kid,” you answer as if you understand what he’s saying to you. Then again…maybe you can understand him.

Ahsoka said she and Grogu could feel each other’s thoughts. You should be able to do the same, right? Granted you have no training in the matter, but you were able to communicate with him once, surely you could do it again.

Your hand reaches out to him and you hook a finger around his hand. He grips around your index and squeezes you tenderly. Closing your eyes, you try to imagine what he could be thinking, what he might be trying to tell you. At first, you don’t hear or see anything—just darkness. A part of you wants to give up, nothing that it was worth a shot anyway, but you choose to press on. Focusing hard on Grogu, you relax the tension in your shoulders and take a deep breath, exhaling through your lips.

By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind…

A woman’s voice fills your mind, but you can’t make out any of her features. Focus, you tell yourself.

You are as its father.

A Mandalorian. She looks different than Mando. Her helmet looks to be made of gold, with horns erecting from the very top. Her armor appeared to be different as well. Unlike Mando’s shiny, chrome beskar, her cuirass is a reddish brown and instead of a cape, she wears a fur coat on her back. Immediately, you got the impression she’s a warrior of her own nature, just as cunning as Mando, but in a swifter, more agile way, unlike Mando’s brash style of battle.

Just as the moment appeared, it vanished, filling your mind with images of sand dunes. Suddenly, you’re back in Mos Eisley. Only this time, you’re much younger, playing on the outskirts of the city with Tye.

--

“Tye, I’m tired,” you whine out to him. He’s running around the sand, punting a ball at you and then taking it away when you opt not to kick it back to him.

“Oh come on, we have to head back soon anyway. Just a little bit longer.”

It’s hard to hide your disappointment. Really, you just want to be inside. Today is such a blazingly hot day, and water is at its peak in scarcity. Most folks will be inside all day, avoiding the scorching heat. Less time outdoors means less water consumed, but Tye never listens to what he’s told. He does whatever he wants and drags you along with him and unfortunately, you have a hard time saying no to him, so you’re almost always roped into his shenanigans.

“Tyyyyyyye,” you drawl out. “I want to go inside! It’s too hot!”

Just as you say that a giant spacecraft enters the atmosphere, covering the entire surrounding area in shadows. You look up at the giant structure in awe. You’ve never seen a spacecraft so grand before, jaw dropping as you watch two smaller vessels appear from the hovering fortress above your heads. They drop down a little less than a click away. By now, Tye is at your side, both of you watching men in white uniforms exit the ships, charging towards your direction. An immediate fear washes over you, grabbing Tye’s wrist and running to hide behind a nearby moisture vaporator. Your heart is racing, and you feel Tye’s own panic coursing through your veins.

“Wh-what’s going on?” He whispers, voice shaking as he speaks.

“I don’t know…”

The men pass you by, not even taking a second to look around them. Their heads stay glued to what’s in front of them, hands gripping onto giant guns you’ve never seen before. Just as fast as they came, they disappear into the city. Screams and shrieks suddenly break out. People scatter, running out of the city walls in mass hysteria. Your legs itch to run, to find your parents, but Tye senses your urgency and grabs your forearm.

“We have to stay.”

“But—”

He whispers your name. “We don’t know who those people are. We’re safer here.”

Your bottom lip begins to quiver. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as the screams of the villagers echo through the city walls, causing you to wince. Tye wraps his arms around you, and you embrace each other, weeping silently in each other’s arms, praying to the Maker that these soldiers leave. The sound of Tye repeating, “It’s okay. We’re okay,” echoing in your mind.

It’s only when the sun begins to set that the town becomes quiet. The spacecrafts are gone, leaving no trace that they were even here. Your eyes are swollen from the tears, and you feel overwhelmingly exhausted. Body still shaking, burning off adrenaline and fear. Standing up is difficult, your knees are buckling but the need to see your parents is stronger than the quaking of your legs. You wake Tye up by shaking his shoulder gently.

“They’re gone. We have to head back.”

He rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palms. At first it doesn’t seem like he fully understands you, but when he looks up and doesn’t see the ship from before, he all but jumps up, dusting the sand off his clothes and charging right into the city.

“Tye! Wait up!” You shout after him, but he doesn’t relent. Taking large strides, you attempt to catch up with him, running past weeping elders, hysterical children, and what appears to be dead bodies all around you. Your mind doesn’t allow you to process what you’re seeing, you’re just too focused on catching up with Tye and then finding your parents.

His name being called in the distance stops him dead in his tracks.

“Mama! Papa!” He cries out, pivoting around in hopes to see someone he knows. When you finally manage to catch up to him, his mother appears from the shadows, tears streaming down her face. From the faint streetlights, her cheeks are dark red, and her eyes are just as swollen as you assume yours are.

“Sweetheart!” She shouts as she races to you both, wrapping you up in her arms and squeezing you until the air is all but knocked out of your lungs. It hurts, but you hold on to her anyway, feeling her warm, motherly touch.

“Where’s Papa?” He asks in the crook of his mother’s neck. Tye’s voice is hoarse from crying and yelling, and she attempts to soothe him by gently shushing him.

“It’s okay, son. We’re okay.”

“I have to get home,” you say, pulling away from her grip.

“Honey…”

The look on her face… you’ll never forget it. Tears welling up in her eyes, her jaw slacking because she wants to say something but not knowing how to say it. The pain you see in her green eyes, it’s like she’s just watched a loved one die right in front of her. Fear and anguish hit you in waves, crashing down on you more aggressively with every second that goes by.

“No…” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Taking a step away from her, her arm reaches out to you.

“Sweetie…” she tries again.

Shaking your head in panic, you turn on your heel in one swift movement and disappear down one of the quieter streets and make for your home. As you race in the direction of your dwelling, your heart bangs against your ribcage, tears flying down your cheeks. You can’t even see where you’re going due to the water in your eyes, but you keep trekking on. Nothing’s going to stop you. Throat unbearably tight, you can barely let in little breaths as you turn the corner to where you live.

When you reach the street, you stop so suddenly that you almost tumble down on the ground, somehow managing to catch yourself at the last moment, your breathing ridiculously erratic. There’s a horde of adults crowding the front door to where you live. Your feet carry you to them at a painstakingly slow pace. Blood pounding in your ears, you can barely make out what anyone is saying. When someone finally catches sight of you, they rush towards you, dropping down to their knees to meet your eye level.

“Sweetie, we can’t let you go in there.”

“But t-t-that’s my h-ho-me,” you manage to say through shaky breaths.

“I know, but we ca—”

You push passed them before they can finish speaking and dart passed several other people trying to stop you until you squeeze through the half-open door into your house, pressing a button on the control panel by the doorway. The door hisses shut.

There’s only a bit of light offered inside. To your left, you see the table you’d sit at with your parents for supper. The chairs are tucked neatly under the table. You’re not sure if the banging you hear is from someone outside trying to get in, or if it’s your heart thumping against your chest but it doesn’t deter you from searching for your parents.

As you continue to scan the area, there’s a couple of cups lying around on the counter, but other than that, nothing is out of place. Relief begins to settle in but is rapidly replaced by sheer terror when you finally shift your head to the right. Then, you see them.

Your parents lying face down on the floor.

“No!” You cry out, running to them and dropping to your knees to hover over their bodies.

There’s a blaster sized hole in your father’s back, heat still steaming off his wound. Your screams could be heard from the other end of the city, clutching onto their lifeless bodies as you beg for them to wake up.

“Please, wake up. Mama, Papa. P-please!”

Someone pulls you off of them, wrapping their arms around your torso. Your arms flail around, clawing and scratching at whoever’s holding onto you. “Let me go! My parents! Let me go!” Your voice is shrill and hoarse, becoming more hysterical, but they never let go. Your parents become smaller and smaller as you’re carried away from them. The last thing you remember is seeing the door to your home whoosh shut…

Your body jolts, and you’re not on Tatooine, anymore. You’re on the Razor Crest. Grogu sits just a foot away from you, peering up at your shivering body. Somehow, you exposed a memory you had sworn to never remember. After that day, you locked that memory up in a part of your brain and shut it off, choosing never to think about it again. The pain was too much for you to handle. Instead of facing your pain, you always chose to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t exist. Once again, compartmentalizing your trauma and locking it away for good.

Grogu fusses and when you look down to him, his eyes begin to flutter. Poor thing gets so sleepy whenever he messes with the Force. You pick him up and hold him close to your chest, making your way to Mando’s bunk. As you pass the ladder, the kid fusses and makes grabby hands for the ladder.

“You want Mando?” You ask him, and Grogu babbles in response.

Climbing the ladder with him in your arms is a bit difficult, but you’re able to get to the top without too much of a struggle.

“He wants to be with you,” you tell him.

Mando swivels his chair around to face you. Extending his arms out to you, you hand Grogu over to him and your hands briefly touch. The brushing of your hands suddenly reminds you of the game you were in the middle of playing just before the kid decided to explore the cargo hold.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Turning on your heel, you head down the ladder quickly. How is it that over the course of just a few hours, you could go through so much emotional turmoil? Honestly, you haven’t even been awake for that long, but you’re already wanting to take a nap.

Fuck it, there’s nothing else to go in this hunk of metal, and Mando’s probably busy with the kid, so you decide to let your body rest. Crawling into the little cubby hole and shutting the door closed, you close your eyes and hope your body will allow you some peace of mind.

--

You’re reminded of why you hate naps so much when you wake up. Instead of feeling refreshed, you always end up feeling much worse. First off, you always wake up in a cold sweat and feeling super groggy. Quite frankly, it does the exact opposite of what you hoped a nap would do. Secondly? Mando’s cot is unbearably hard. It shouldn’t be considered a bed; it resembles more like duracrete than anything else. As much as you like finally being able to sleep not sitting up in that kriffing passenger chair, this is another struggle of its own.

Pushing the button on the control panel by the door, it opens with a swift motion. The first thing you clock is that the Crest’s lights are almost all out, making it damn near impossible for you to even see your hand in front of your face. How in the hell is Mando able to walk around here not being able to see a single thing? The second thing you notice is the sound of running water. He must be taking a sanisteam.

To think that just on the other side of that wall, he’s naked and wet? If it were anybody else, you’d strip out of your clothes and join them, but things aren’t that simple with Mando. There are boundaries you wouldn’t dare cross unless he gives you his consent. Rather than frustrate you, it entices you even more. It keeps you wanting more and more, especially because he can’t just give you everything you want, whenever you want. No, you have to work for it.

Realizing that now you’re basically just standing outside the fresher like a creep, you head up to the cockpit in search of the kid. Just like you suspected, he’s sound asleep in one of the passengers’ chairs, wrapped up in what looks to be Mando’s cape. The thought of Mando taking off his cape to wrap Grogu up makes you stupidly giddy.

Treading carefully as to not make any noise to wake him up, you tiptoe back to the ladder and shut the cockpit door, your feet barely touching the rungs as you descend back down to the hull.

Something in your stomach growls, and you’re suddenly reminded that you haven’t eaten since… yesterday? Kriff, has it really been that long since your last meal? You head over to the pantry where the packs are kept, extending your arms out in front of you so you don’t bang into anything on your way there, and grab the first pack your hand touches, not having a preference as to what you’ll be eating today—tonight? You don’t even know what time of the day it is. Time in hyperspace can be difficult to keep track of. The only way you’d know what time it is is if you checked the control panel back up in the cockpit and right now, it’s just not worth the trip.

The pack itself feels sloshy in your hands; it’s probably some kind soup. Reaching into the closet again, your hand searches for a bowl to put your meal in.

Mando will be out of the fresher at any moment now, given that the water’s been turned off for a minute or two. The door to the fresher wooshes open and out of reflex, you shut your eyes but are quickly reminded that the hull is so faintly lit that even with your eyes open you wouldn’t be able to see him, but just to be safe, you announce your presence.

“I heard you,” is all you hear back.

“Can you turn the lights on a little bit more? I can barely see a thing and I really don’t feel like dropping my soup all over your ship.”

He doesn’t answer but within seconds the Crest transforms from a dark abyss to a twinkling, starry night. Not unlike the ones you’d spend hours staring at with Tye in the sand dunes during your teenage years.

Your head spins to your left, selfishly hoping to catch a sight of Mando, and Maker do your eyes latch onto him.

He’s not wearing a shirt, first of all. This is the most of his skin that you’ve ever seen before. The warm lights flickering off his back accentuates the curves of his muscles, concaving in certain areas and then protruding in others, outlining every bit of toned tissue. You can vaguely make out a few water droplets trailing down his golden skin, and it’s seriously taking all the self-control you have not to close the gap between you both and lick them off his back. An ache begins to build in the apex of your thighs, and you start to rub your legs together in an effort to alleviate some of the heat stirring inside you. Still wearing the kriffing helmet, though.

The second thing you notice is the vast amount of scarring on his skin. Each scar representing a different battle. You could probably lay him flat on his stomach, and his back would appear like a visual biography of his life, each mark giving you an understanding into his past, and the tests and trials he’s had to overcome over the years.

What were you trying to do, again?

Food.

You need food.

“Do you—” you squeak. Pull yourself together. Clearing your throat in hopes your tone will go back down to its normal octave, you repeat yourself. “Do you want any soup?”

“No t—” he begins to say but you cut him off before he can finish. You knew he’d say he wasn’t hungry.

“Have you eaten today?” Your eyes stay glued to the bowl in front of you. You’re certain that if you so much as looked at him again, you’d forget about the damned soup and pounce on him like loth cat.

“No.”

“Then you’re eating.”

Taking a second bowl from the shelf, you divide the soup evenly between both cups and begin making your way over to Mando, keeping your head down in the off chance he’s still not wearing a shirt, you don’t want to seem like you’re gawking at him.

“You can look,” he clarifies, noting the way you refuse to look up from ground.

When your eyes finally shift from the ground to look at him, he’s now wearing a black long-sleeved tunic that hugs his figure in ways that should be illegal. Your jaw is practically hanging and swallowing the lump in your throat causes a sound somewhere close to a moan to expel from your mouth, but you’re quick enough to stifle it with a cough.

As you hand him the bowl of soup, you’re feeling incredibly shy for some reason, your hand extending out and trembling as he takes it from you.

“I’ll eat in the cockpit to give you some privacy,” you tell him as you put your hand on the railing.

“No,” he says immediately, grabbing your forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Stay.”

Lips curling upwards into a smile, you end up biting down on your bottom lip to keep the smile from growing and growing as you replay that in your mind.

Stay.

Moving away from the ladder, Mando pulls out one of the smaller crates and seats himself down on it. As you begin to look around for another box you could sit on yourself, he watches you closely.

“You can sit here, if you want.”

“Oh, okay.”

Once you’re seated, you begin to take small sips of your soup. Mando reaches over to where his vambrace is—scattered somewhere on another crate and presses a button on it. The Crest’s lights fade even more, leaving you both in almost complete darkness.

A muffled hiss fills the air, and you hear beskar touch the durasteel ground. You eat in silence for a few minutes, hearing only each other’s sips as you continue to fill your bellies with food. It’s incredibly domestic. A Mandalorian and a…well you’re not really sure what you should label yourself as, but you’ll stick with smuggler for now; the two of you eating together like an actual couple—even if that’s far from what your relationship actually is.

“No amour?” You decide to ask, trying to make a bit of small talk in the pitch-black abyss.

“Someone told me I had to ‘loosen up’,” he jests, knocking his elbow against your arm. Maker, you’ll never get tired of hearing that unmodulated voice of his. Something as simple of a voice shouldn’t make you feel the way it does. For a man who kills for a living, he speaks with such a gentle intonation.

It’s such a juxtaposition, really. In full body armor, Mando is definitely one of the most feared hunters in the galaxy. He’ll kill if something threatens his life or the kid’s life. Impossible to read, impossible to predict. But right now? He’s the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him. No helmet, no amour. His guard is as down as you’ve ever seen and is willing himself to be naked with you, even if he’s still fully clothed. How you were able to find yourself in this situation is something you might never be able to fully understand, but it is truly the greatest gift you could have ever been given.

“I’m sorry about before,” you whispers, feeling guilty about how you approached the question about his helmet. “I didn’t mean to pressure you about your Creed.”

It’s not fair for you to come down so hard on him. You might not understand why he chooses to live his life with such restrictions, but it really isn’t any of your business.

“It’s fine.”

You still feel angry with yourself for acting the way you did, but if Mando says it’s fine, the last thing you’ll do is continue your self-loathing and make him feel uncomfortable about the whole thing.

Taking the last sip of soup and feeling satisfied with your meal, you push yourself to your feet. “Are you finished?” you ask him.

“Yes, thank you.”

You search aimlessly in the dark for a moment in search of his dish and accidentally knock the bowl right out of his hand, hearing it tumble on the ground.

“Shit, sorry,” you curse, dropping to your knees in search for it. While frantically searching for the dish, you feel his hand caress the small of your back, sending shivers through your spine.

You’re starting to feel pretty flustered, the fact that you’re both in the darkness doesn’t help. There’s no way of anticipating what could happen and that’s exhilarating and unnerving. Of course, you eventually find the bowl and Mando’s hand disappears from your back once you get back on your feet.

Walking over to the pantry where the ration packs are, you place the bowls on the shelf, making a mental reminder to wash them later. Just as you’re about to turn around and head back to where you think Mando is, you suddenly feel a presence behind you. Two hands grip onto either side of your hips and he presses his body against yours, pushing you right up against the little closet. A moan escapes your lips without even realizing it, and you can feel his hot breath tickle the crook of your neck.

“I’ve wanted to touch you all fucking day,” he growls in your ear.

Holy Maker, the heat in your stomach is somehow already becoming too much. You’re basically panting, the blood in your ears is almost deafening.

“I’ve been watching the way you’re walking. Did I hurt you? Do you still feel me?”

“Stars,” you breathe out.

Mando presses his lips to your skin, sending shockwaves through your entire core. You can feel his stubble prick your neck and it’s everything you didn’t know you craved. It feels deliciously rough.

Your hands brace themselves against the door, it’s the only way you can keep yourself upright. Knees already buckling, feeling the heat pooling from your cunt and drenching your underwear with slick. One of his hands begin to trail away from your hip and trace the waistband to your trousers. Instead of teasing you though, his hand wastes no time pushing passed your pants and panties, finding his way down to your cunt and cupping it with such force you jerk forwards, groaning as his hand finds your clit.

“Already so wet for me.”

Fingers leaving your bud, he slides them between your folds, gathering your slick on his calloused fingertips and then he’s shoving a thick finger deep inside you. His free hand flies to your throat, applying slight pressure with his thumb and index on that sweet spot underneath your jawline.

“Fuck,” you cry out brokenly. It doesn’t fill you up nearly as much as his cock does, but the way he moves inside of you, hitting that spot inside you no one has ever touched, marking it as his, causes you to see fucking stars.

Mando nips at your neck, alternating between sloppy kisses and bites hard enough to cause bruises, you can already feel an orgasm stirring inside you. You clench around his digit, feeling yourself climb higher and higher.

“Are you already close?” He mutters in between kisses and nibbles.

“Shit, fuck I-I think so.”

Your hand finds its way to the back of his head, grabbing fistfuls of his soft, damp locks and pulling hard, causing Mando to groan in your ear and buck his hips into yours. You can feel the outline of his rock-hard rock against your ass, and you grind into him, feeling his length burrow between your cheeks. You’re so close to your climax already.

Without missing a beat, he pulls out of you and his hand disappears from between your thighs.

“W-why?”

Grabbing your hips, he flips you around to face him.

“Up,” he instructs.

You linger there for a moment, unsure of what he’s asking you to do. When you don’t move, his hands grab onto your waist and lift you off the ground without so much of a groan. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms cross around the back of his neck, your head leaning on his shoulder. He walks over to the little bunk in the corner of the hull and lowers you onto the mattress gently, being mindful not to hit your head on the small doorway.

Feeling your heart pound against your ribcage, the thrill of not being able to see him at all and not having a clue as to what he’ll do next, it’s incredibly sensual. Your legs unwrap themselves from his waist and dangle off the edge of the cot. His hands trail up to the waistband of your pants and tugs them down off your ass. Lifting your hips up to help him, he takes them—along with your underwear, off and you hear them thump to the floor.

Hands returning to your skin, he hooks thems under your calves and lifts them up so your bent at the knees, feet resting on the edge of the bunk.

The anticipation is getting to you. He continues to take his agonizingly sweet time running the tips of fingers on your naked skin, causing you to shiver and goosebumps to form on your skin. Lifting one of your legs and placing it over his shoulders, he peppers kisses from your ankle all the way to your inner thigh and repeats the same taunt with the other leg. Both of them now resting on his shoulders, he drops to his knees in front of you. Suddenly feeling nervous, you try to close your legs and end up squeezing his head by accident.

“Shit, sorry,” you whisper, propping yourself on your elbows.

“Shhh,” he hushes, placing a large hand on your sternum and pushing you back down on the cot gingerly, and then his lips are on your skin again, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle bites all over your inner thighs, slowly getting closer to your throbbing pussy but never getting close enough to relieve the pressure building.

“Mando, please,” you whimper.

“Do I have to gag you?”

Shit… How is he able to make that sound so fucking hot?

“I’m going to take care of you, but you have to be quiet. Can you do that?” His voice is gentle but commanding.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Good girl.”

His tongue glides over your clit and there’s no controlling the moan that rips through you. Pulling away immediately, Mando stands up and presses his body into yours, his mouth merely inches away from yours, his large hand cupping just underneath your jaw.

“What did I say, pretty girl?”

You can feel his hot breath on your lips. If you just moved even the littlest bit forward, your lips would meet his. Licking your lips, you wrench your eyes shut to keep you from closing the gap.

“To be quiet,” you manage to say through ragged breaths.

“So be quiet,” he hisses, feeling his teeth sink into your bottom lip for just a second and then his weight is off you, returning to your thighs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned over his shoulders. Now, he wastes no time lapping you up, flicking your clit with his tongue with such a mind-blowing rhythm you have to throw your arm over your mouth and bite down on your skin to keep from making any noise. Mando never relents, developing the perfect torture. He plays with your bud then practically shoves his entire fucking face in your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you as far as it can go. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to bubble up to the surface, threatening to burst. It’s all too much, your body starts to shake from the sensations.

You’re close, you’re so fucking close. Dropping your arm to your side, your voice hoarse from stifling all your cries, you’re somehow able to find the strength to say, “I’m gonna come.”

“No,” is all he answers.

No?

“W-w-what?”

“Hold it,” he says hastily, then continues his assault on your pussy.

How in kriffing hell are you supposed to hold it? You’re basically already there and he’s denying you it. You can’t hold on; you can’t stop it.

“I c-can’t,” you confess.

And then he stops. His tongue leaves you, his hands leave your skin, and you’re left there on the bed, legs hanging off the cot, chest heaving from being so fucking close and then being denied at the very last second.

“What the fuck?” You ask breathlessly, a hint of anger but mostly disappointment in your tone.

You hear him make a noise and then something wet trickles down your clit down to your entrance. It’s…sticky and warm. Did he just spit on you?

Lifting your legs back up and letting your feet balance on the very edge of the bunk, his cock rubs against you, angling the tip of himself to slide between your folds, mixing your slick, his spit and precome all over his length and you. Mando continues to tease you, lining himself up with your entrance but never sheathing himself inside you. It’s driving you fucking insane, even angling your hips whenever he does, hoping he’ll lose his self-control and plunge into you, but it only spurs him on. He knows how much it’s annoying you and he’s fucking thriving on it.

“If you don’t start fucking me soon…” you warn.

Mando actually laughs at you, like this is all a big joke to him. Anger begins to mix with your arousal, this is maddening. Why won’t he just fuck you already?

All of a sudden, he slams into you with so much power, you actually slide up the cot, and you wail feeling so fucking full and tight, your cry filling the small space you’re in. You’re still sore from the night before and feeling him stretch your walls again is almost unbearable, but it feels too fucking good. You’ll take every fucking inch of him without a single complaint. Then, just as your pussy begins to acclimate to him, he pulls out, hiking your shirt up just enough for him to grab onto your naked waist and pulling you back down closer to him.

“Mando!”

He leans over you once again, a hand cradles the back of your head while his thumb rubs your cheek tenderly. “If this gets to be too much, just tell me to stop and I will.”

Letting out a deep breath through your lips, you nod.

“Words.”

“I’ll tell you to stop.”

“Good.”

Thrusting his hips against you, his cock continues to grind along your slit, making you dizzy from both the lack of touch and the taunting of his cock against you.

“Maker, you’re so fucking wet. You sure you didn’t come?”

Words aren’t something you’re capable of forming so you’re stuck resorting to answering him with broken sobs. Practically writhing from all the overstimulation and lack of, from him toying with you, the pressure in your cunt actually fucking hurts, you’re nearly begging for some release. Adding onto the fact that you can’t see a fucking thing, it heightens all your other senses. They compensate for your lack of vision; everything feels so much more intense than you ever could have imagined.

No one could ever drive you to the brink of madness and pull you back in at the last second. No one could possibly make you feel so satisfied yet deprived. You’re convinced you’ve traveled the galaxy in search of him, that your soul was missing a piece so small, you didn’t even know it was missing until Mando filled that void. He’s etched into your skin, your bones, your veins. Every nerve ending tissue has been electrified by this enigma of a man. A man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill those who’d try to come between him and his clan.

Kriff, you’re drained already. He hasn’t even begun to fuck you, but waves of exhaustion are coming over you. Mando’s still fucking teasing you, only ever prodding the tip of himself inside you and then pulling away before he can truly fill you up.

He said if this became too much for you to handle, all you had to do was say the word and he’d stop. You’re starting to consider it; you don’t think you can handle much more of the slow torture he’s inflicting.

Just as your jaw slackens, he slams into you in a sift motion, fully immersing himself inside your swollen walls.

“Fuck!” You pant out, wrenching your eyes shut and feeling tears trinkle down your cheeks. Mando doesn’t move one bit, just sits inside you like he’s waiting for you to adjust yourself to the size of him.

“Shit, you’re tight. Gonna train that pretty cunt of yours to mold to my cock,” he grits out. Big hands hold you down by the waist, and he ever so slooooowly eases out of you only to ram into you again, all the way to the hilt. You’re seeing stars, every move, every thrust bringing you closer to euphoria. The only thing your mind can process is how fucking amazing it feels to be clenched around his cock. It’s mind bending, it’s intoxicating, you’ll never get used to the way he fucking tortures you.

He develops a downright brutal pace, pulling out just enough for his tip to pierce your walls and then pounding into you, growling every time he touches your cervix. Once he’s fully immersed inside you, he bucks his hips and practically jackhammers his cock inside you. A sheen of sweat covering both your bodies causes the sound of skin slapping against skin to sound so wet and fucking obscene. Still pounding into you, Mando’s hands leave your waist to grab under your thighs, lifting them up to hang off his shoulders. Pushing down on the backs of your thighs, he practically bends you in half at the knees, an arm on either side of your head, and then begins a pace so fast and brutal, you’re sure you’ll be sore for weeks. The spot he’s hitting right now is one you didn’t think was even possible. It knocks all the air out of your lungs, you can’t even make a goddamn sound. Your throat is bone dry, and whatever pathetic sounds that escape you are barely audible and breathless.

“Stars, you feel fucking amazing,” he mutters in your ear, and then he’s sucking at your neck, bruising the skin.

Mouth agape, you’re so fucking close to coming, a part of you doesn’t even want to tell him how close you are in case he stops. You don’t think you could physically handle it if he denied you again.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how much fucking noise your little cunt is making?”

On a normal day, Mando says as little as possible, giving you a quick sentence in response or even a one-word answer, but when he’s balls deep inside you, he can’t seem to shut up. He turns into a blabbering mess, offering you praise after praise like it’s a fucking prayer. Mando makes a note of everything. He comments on your gushing pussy, how your walls clench around him as you get closer and closer to your orgasm, how no one will ever touch you again.

How you’re his.

And you? You can barely throw two words together. You’re on the brink of losing your goddamn mind. Is this what being on spice is like? Feeling a sense of euphoria that hits you wave after wave, each one stronger and more intense than the last, teetering the line between sanity and insanity.

“…mine,” you hear him snarl. Reality doesn’t even feel real anymore, you can barely make out what he’s saying to you.

Something like a whimper slips through your parted lips.

“Now, come for me.”

He barely finishes speaking before your orgasm tears right through you. It begins deep inside you and is quickly shattering the earth around you. Crying out so loud Mando has to slap his hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds expelling from your lips. He continues to pound into your pussy, riding out the ripples of your climax, not relenting even for one moment. There isn’t any fucking air in your lungs—Mando’s weight is still pressing you into the cot and your climax is so strong, your chest is way passed heaving now.

You’ll be chasing this high for the rest of your life, the feeling of Mando unleashing his feral instincts on you, and you just helplessly letting him take control of you—it’s unlike anything you ever could have imagined.

“Good girl,” he praises. When you don’t immediately answer, still in a haze from the mind-shattering orgasm that just expelled out of you, Mando stills, cupping your face with his hand and murmurs, “Are you okay?”

Your lips part, and your brain desperately tries to find any word that might help him understand that you’re okay and also anything but okay. Only being able to breathe in quick, sharp breaths, Mando places a kiss on your jaw and repeats in the gentlest tone you’ve ever heard him speak, “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

Shaking your head frantically, you attempt to moisten your throat by swallowing, and it gives you enough to answer, “I’m okay.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He reiterates.

“No,” you croak.

“Are you sure?” Stars, how can he be so relentless in the way he fucks you and switch into a nurturer so quickly?

“Mmm. Please f-fuck me,” you mewl against him.

His cock twitches at your plea, and he obliges. In an effort to help you climb down from the overstimulation, he eases in and out of you at a deliciously hard, but slow pace, and then he does something you couldn’t have been prepared for. Your lips are slightly parted, letting in little bursts of air to help calm your breathing, and suddenly, you feel wet, soft lips clash onto yours. Instinctively, you yelp into his mouth from the unexpected touch, but you quickly acclimate to it, feeling your lips move on his. It’s a little awkward at first, you get the impression Mando hasn’t kissed many people in his life, because your teeth end up clashing together a few times. He fucking giggles into your mouth and you all but melt into the cot. His tongue slips passed your lips and meets yours and you can taste yourself and broth on his tongue. Your hands find their way to his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it, pressing your lips even deeper on his. Mando moans low in his throat and you can feel the vibrations ripple in your own mouth.

He makes to pull away, but you keep his lips locked on yours, using your hands to keep him where you want him. He gives in without hesitation, letting you take control of the kiss as he continues to ram into you. The dreams you’ve had of this moment, the moment you’d feel his mouth on yours doesn’t even come close to the feeling of it happening to you right now. It all makes sense now. Every kiss you’ve had previously was just practice for this. It was all just preparing you for this defining moment, the moment you’d finally be able to break through Mando’s heavily guarded walls. Every smack of your lips, every flick your tongues, every broken moan in each other’s throats, they’re all just feats breaking down the duracrete barrier that he’s forced himself to build over the years.

Bodies intertwined, every part of yourselves wrapped up in the other, it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins, and you suppose that’s how this is was always supposed to be. Each of you were missing the same piece— the inability to be perceived as anything but a person of strong will. Believing that vulnerability was a weakness, instead of something that should be treasured, and without knowing it, your paths crossed and challenged every part of your identity.

Foundling, Mandalorian, bounty hunter, father.

Orphan, mechanic, smuggler, Jedi.

Those shouldn’t mix together as perfectly as they do, but stars, does it feel like everything finally makes sense.

A second orgasm begins to brew in your stomach, but you don’t dare pull away from Mando’s lips. You’ll never pull away until he forces himself off of you.

He leaves your lips for just a moment, panting and his own chest heaving against yours. “Maker, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Shhh,” Tugging desperately at his hair, you close the small gap between you and slosh your mouths together. You both whimper brokenly on each other’s lips, and Mando slams into you three more times before his hips still, feeling his cock pump his seed into your soaking pussy. Just as he begins to come, your second climax reaches its peak and crashes into you. His hands are back on your waist, digging his fingernails into your skin. Whatever moans you both cry out are muffled by each other’s’ mouths, catching the sound and swallowing it, burying it deep inside one another.

When you come start to come down from your climaxes, Mando drops his head to the crook of your neck, burying his face into your skin and pressing sloppy, chaste kisses right where your jaw meets your neck.

“I—” You attempt to speak, but your vocal cords are so raw, it hurts even just making a sound. You’re still practically bent in half, and your legs are burning up. Resorting to stir around hoping he’ll get the message, Mando pulls off of you, using both his hands to very gently bring them down his shoulders, one by one, once again giving each of your inner thighs some tender pecks. Pulling out of you, his come seeps out of your completely worn out slit. He peppers a few kisses along your waist, and then you hear his footsteps retreat.

“Where—” You begin to say, making to slowly prop yourself on your elbows.

“I’m still here,” he assures you.

You can hear him moving things around, and you seriously wish there was some kind of light allowing you to see what he’s doing but given that your eyes have gotten used to being in complete darkness, you’re sure you’d be blinded by even the smallest amount of light right now.

A few minutes go by and then you feel his hands on your hips, pulling you down the cot. Once he feels like your head won’t hit the top of the bunk, he lifts you off your feet, wrapping his arms around your back, and in turn you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you for a couple steps and then brings you down onto what you expect will be the cold ground. Instead, you feel cotton on your back as he lowers you down.

“Where did you—?”

“I have a couple of extra capes in case one gets too battered,” he says, answering your question before you can finish asking it.

As soon as your head touches the ground, you feel your eyelids shut, exhaustion overpowering you. Turning over on your side and hiking up one of your legs up so that your knee lines up with your chest, you don’t even care that your own slick and his seed is practically dripping down your legs. You don’t care that you’re still naked from the waist down. The only thing you care about is falling asleep, preferably in Mando’s arms.

“Don’t sleep yet. Need to clean you up,”

“Mmm,” you protest. “Later.”

Mando chuckles lightly and then he’s wiping the slick off your legs and entrance with what feels like… a pair of trousers.

“Are you using my pants to clean that up?”

“It’s the first thing I grabbed. I’ll wash it.”

“Mmm, you better,” you mumble into your arm.

Now, you’re starting to slip in and out of consciousness, fatigue taking you over. Mando rummages around the hull for a bit longer, and then joins you on the floor, throwing what you assume is another cape, over your half naked body. You don’t even have the energy to move your body over towards his, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’re both still close enough to feel the heat radiating off each other’s skin.

“Hey, Mando?”

“Yes?”

“I won.”

Things are quiet for a few minutes after that, and you’re on the verge of falling asleep when his velvety smooth voice breaks through the silence of the Crest.

“Blue,” his voice is low and barely audible.

“Mmm?” You mumble, desperately trying to stay awake.

“I…like the color blue.”

Okay, now that puts a stupid, hazy smile on your face. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Any particular shade of blue? Bright… dark?” You may be barely conscious, but you hang onto every word he says.

“I guess… dark.”

“Mmm,” you hum. “Why do you like that color?”

He lets out a deep breath, like he’s about to confess something to you that he hasn’t told anyone else. As if in this very moment, he’s about to give himself to you completely. “The Mandalorians that saved me from that battle droid in my village. Their armor was blue.”

Mando doesn’t elaborate any further, but he doesn’t have to. Feeling your heart tighten in your chest, you imagine what a young Mando must have been feeling when that droid pointed its guns at him. How he must have been utterly terrified and convinced that he was about to die. And then to be saved at the last moment. Seeing these warriors in blue armor coming to rescue him, to save his village from an even worse massacre. They were his saviors, it only makes sense that after all these years, that color would bring him solace and comfort.

It’s quite ironic, actually. Blues have the reputation of representing sadness or pain and you too have been accustomed to associating blue with your own trauma, and then here comes Mando.

The color symbolizes the exact opposite of what its known for. To him, it brings relief and reminds him of being saved; representing the beginning of a new life that he’s exemplified through and through. It’s a beautiful confession, and you’ll forever be searching for him in all the shades of blue that the galaxy has to offer.

Two opposites.

Yellow and blue.

One representing happiness and light. The other representing sadness and melancholy. Blend those two together and you create the fiercest of combinations. A beautiful balance of both extremes.

And when you think about it, what color does blue and yellow make?

[ms-indifferwnt]

I’m Cold

“I'm cold"

"And?"

"Can't you give me your jacket or something?"

"Can't you accept my proposal and marry me already?"

In which Prince Donghyuck's parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I'll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 3 of Im Cold. Sorry this one took longer, hope you guys enjoy

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

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Y/n was screaming in frustration o to her pillow, Damn the Prince's good Looks, Damn the Prince's words, Damn the Prince's Kindness, Damn it all!

Y/n sighs after screaming on to her pillow, she flips over back against the soft covers, she couldn't help but think about how the evening end up like this. How could she say yes? After Prince Donghyuck has asked for two Weeks what happened?

"No" Y/n replied and stood up

Donghyuck grabbed her by the wrist, it wasn't forceful nor was it tight, Prince Donghyuck gave her an opportunity to pull away, to take her wrist away from the Prince, But why didn't she? "Please" He pleaded and Y/n's eyes widened "At least think it over, if you are still determined to tell my parents I will gladly assist you but please, at least until we're done eating dinner, think it over"

Y/n was shocked to see the prince pleading, asking her to think about it, was this that important to the prince? She nods, fine after dinner she'll reject him, she was getting fed up with how stubborn he is, it wasn't just messing up with the royal family's values, it was also bothering with her life, her own private life, how she is being seen, how people address her whole life went upside down just because the prince lost his temper

Donghyuck nods and stands bowing towards her, "I'm sorry, I know I have troubled you" He confesses and Y/n grabbed him by the shoulders to make  him stand straight but he wouldn't budge "I know that by making you do this I have placed you in a hard position" she shakes her head and tears start trickling  his eyes, it was all overwhelming, her feelings and the Prince' words being all too heavy on her conscience, the tears weren't necessary nor was it intentional but before she could realize, a sob leaves her lips and Prince Donghyuck's reaction was quick, he stood up straight hands out to hold her as she starts wiping her face

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying" she whimpers and keeps wiping her face with her hands, The prince pulls her hands away and uses his handkerchief to wipe her tears, no words were exchanged, not until she calmed down

Neither noticed it but the Prince'd hand always hovered near the girl's as if waiting for the right moment to hold her hand. The Prince looks at her and she was staring at the cloth in her hand, it was simple, laced in golden thread "Do you like sweets?" The Prince suddenly spoke making her look at him and she nods, he smiles softly and takes her hand in his "Let's go get some ice-cream"

       Morning comes and Y/n wakes up to the sound of Prince Donghyuck's voice "Hana, which one is better?"

Y/n opened her eyes to be greeted by Prince Donghyuck looking through her closet "Goodmorning" he greets and moves to kiss her forehead, Y/n still freezes at the action but smiled "I've chosen your outfit for today so we can match" Donghyuck pats his thighs to show off the color and smiles, standing up to hold her hand and help her out of bed, "Wear this" he shows a pretty blue floral lace Bardot dress, pattern adorned with white and pink roses while lace covers the edges the color matching the Prince's blue-ish dress pants "Get her dressed Hana"

And at the Prince's words, Hana leads Y/n to the conjoined bathroom, helping her clean up and get dressed fixing the way it hugs her curves, and Hana smiles, applying a bit of touch-ups on her skin and fixing her hair. She was done and Y/n looked into the mirror, Hana has fixed her hair into a half-up bun style making it look messy yet classy, the hairstyle complementing the dress

They both left the bathroom only to be greeted by the prince facing away from the bathroom door looking at his phone "Done? Can I turn and see?"

Y/n blinks, the Prince purposefully turned away to give her space and privacy, she smiles softly "Yes you can turn around now"

The prince turns around and he smiles at the sight, but then he wrapped one arm around his waist as a support for his elbow where he places his chin on his palm eyeing her "Something's missing" he mumbled

Y/n blinks and tilts her head as Hana turns to look at Y/n "Jewelry?" Hana offers and the Prince nods, with the Maid immediately reacting walking to get the Jewelry box from the vanity, "Milady has a wide assortment of jewelry here, my Prince" she says and turns only to gasp at the sight

The Prince had invaded Y/n's personal bubble, him being so close their chest could be flushed against each other, her hair was out of the way while the Prince had his arms around her neck as he tries and clasps the necklace. In all honesty, if he wanted to help her wear it he could've done it from behind not doing it while almost hugging Y/n

Y/n could feel the Prince's breath fan against her neck at the close proximity, she blushes and moved to hold on to the blazer in front of her until finally, the prince locks the necklace tracing a cold finger against the chain, she tried, she just couldn't help but feel the goosebumps rise against her skin where he had touched "There, you look pretty" he smiles his finger stopping at the pendant only to return tracing against her collar bones and down her arms. Y/n would be lying if she says the prince didn't have an effect on her, cause, oh how her heart raced at the action, silently willing them to stop, he traces lower 'till he holds her hand looking at her wrist "Let us get you a bracelet" he lets go of her only to look through the jewelry box

Hana stood there in shock, cheeks a shade of red at the display of affection, standing off to the side, knowing that she shouldn't react unless Y/n or the Prince might need her

The Prince would take time, looking through the wide assortment of bracelets and looking at the Y/n to look at her wrists and then dress, only to resume his search. Y/n on the other hand had examined the pendant of the necklace, it was a flower, a white flower pendant with delicate details on to its petals, making it look as if it is blooming "It's called a gardenia flower"

She looks into his eyes "what?" she blinks a bit surprises

He points to the pendant "That a gardenia flower, do you like it?" he asks and stands up fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves

She nods shyly "It's a pretty flower" he nods and takes his watch  off, it was a simple watch, it had a golden chain strap along with its case, a black tint on the watch itself  "You have a pretty watch" she murmurs and the Prince smiles

"Good, cause you'll be using this today" he replies and walks up to her  so he can hold her wrist, placing the watch on and locking it in place "Its a bit big on you," he laughs as if finding the whole ordeal cute "Remind me later, lets go on jewelry shopping ok?" Y/n nods silently and he examines Y/n, nodding in approval at the sight he smiles and locks there fingers "Lets go, lets have breakfast together then we can go out to my schedules ok?" he says as he leads her out of her room and into the dining hall

Letting him lead her out, "I'm sorry, My Prince-" she starts but the prince cuts her off

"You should get used to calling me Donghyuck for the next two weeks" he murmurs and turns his head to look at her and smiled "What were you saying?"

She clears her throat and avoided eye contact "Why do I have to come with you on your schedule?"

He hums as if thinking of the right words to answer her question "well, It would be great to show my parents that I am 'serious'," He makes air quotes with his free hand "about you, a plus to make them believe that i need time to heal when we do break up. And, it gets lonely when I'm the only one going"

       "Where is this meeting being held exactly, My Prince?" Y/n asked as she turns away from the car window to look at the Prince only to get a raised eyebrow in return "Donghyuck" she corrects and he nods in approval

"At a café, we'll be meeting with someone, he claims that this project he proposes will help a lot of people"

"Then why must you be the one to interview them? wouldn't it be better for the King and Queen to address that matter themselves?"

"Well, Yes. But not everything will go through the King and Queen, first they have to go through me to make sure its worth seeing by them and then the decision is ultimately theirs"

"Ah" she hums softly and nods "I understand" she smiles and Donghyuck couldn't help but smile back

Once they arrive, The Prince leads Y/n by the hand to a man dressed in a fancy suit he stands and bows towards the new arrivals "My name Johnny, thank you for giving me a chance to speak to you your highness"

Donghyuck bows and smiles "Of course,. I'd like you to meet my Fiancé, Y/n this Suh Johnny, a dear friend and at the moment a benefactor" he smiles informs and Johnny bows in her direction with her mirroring the action, "Please sit." They all obeyed

Johnny was very convincing and honestly, the Prince liked his proposal but as Johnny excused himself to go to the bathroom, Donghyuck turned to Y/n "What do you think?"

She blinked in confusion "Sorry?" she tilts her head slightly and Donghyuck had resist the urge to grab her by the chin so that he can adjust it "But why are you asking me, my Prince?"

He frowns "Donghyuck, Y/n, please call me Donghyuck, you earned the title of being my friend in this predicament you and I are in" earning a nod from the girl and he hums "but to answer your question, its because you might know what's best" she watches him as he spoke "I have not once tried living as if I wasn't a prince, I've never went to the market or done house chores, but you have and you do, compared to me you know what can help improve the way my people work and move, so I'm asking you, what did you think of his proposal?"

Y/n lets the Prince's words sink in as she looks down at her lap, she never thought that it'd come to this, The crowned prince asking her opinion but here she was "Yes, It'll be of great help" she started and started explaining the points on why and how it could improve, stating facts and sharing little stories along the way with her explanation as the Prince attentively listened and nodded

After she spoke, the Prince nodded and smiled at her "that is great Y/n" he moves to hold her hand cupping them "Thank you" he beams he opens his mouth to speak only to be stopped by Johnny returning and the Prince drops her hand

"I'm sorry" Johnny says and sat down "May I continue?" and the prince nods "As I was saying adding homes, giving the people their own job that is cleaning up our parks can lessen our rate of jobless citizens and also lessen out the homeless-"

Johnny was cut off to the prince swerving to the side and looking at his Fiancé "What's your favorite cake flavor?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Cake flavor," he repeats and nods towards the different displays and grins "What is it?"

She looks at Johnny who smiles at her "Mocha" she answers and he hums "you really do have a sweet tooth hmm?" he raises a hand to flag down a waiter "and coffee?" he turns to look at her then stops "No, Sorry you hate coffee... One Mocha cake and," he hums going back to when he bought ice cream for her and smiled "two cups of Hot Chocolate please, would you like anything Johnny?"

"Just coffee" He replies

"Black Coffee for him" Donghyuck says and the waiter bows, "Sorry, continue" and with that Johnny continues

Donghyuck is now to make a decision, if he says yes, Johnny will speak to his parents about his proposal and he hums, giving his and Y/n's words to careful consideration, his eyes drifting to Y/n as she took a bite "feed me" he says out of the blue making Y/n and Johnny look at him surprised

"I can't think without sugar and I drank my milk, just one bite" he coaxes and, Y/n offered him a bit which he happily accepted, looking at Johnny he grins "I hope my parents like your idea as much as we did Johnny"

[albdodaze]

blooming. y.itadori

‘she’s satoru’s sister’ (chapter two)

warnings: none

context: IN WHICH kami gojo, younger sister of certain powerful jujutsu sorcerer, meets an idiot who makes cold barrier around her heart melt.

There weren't many things that Kami hated. She probably poured all her hatred onto her parents, whom she felt incredibly sorry for. But there was another thing that Kami hated practically as much as her parents.

"She’s Satoru's sister. From Gojo Family."

Oh, how she hated being seen only as the sister of a famous jujutsu sorcerer and a member of a powerful family.

Kami wasn't powerful, in fact, she had no cursed energy, she couldn't do any cursed technique. The only thing she had in common with her family was that she could see curses, nothing more. She was often referred to as the window of the Gojo family. No one ever wanted to meet her, no one wanted to know anything about her, and when someone actually started talking to her, it was only to find out about Satoru.

Because of this, she was also the scapegoat in the family. Her parents were ashamed of her. In fact, they abhorred her. They couldn't stand the thought that their daughter was nothing compared to her family. Compared to her brother. Therefore, she was excluded from practically everything that went on in her family. Meetings, celebrations, birthdays, nothing. She was always left alone at home, under the care of the babysitter her parents had hired.

When she was younger, she thought it was just the way it was supposed to be, that it was like that in every family. After all, they never hit her, so what was wrong with that? Sometimes they yelled at her, screamed about not being good enough, but they never hit her. So nothing bad happened, right? Right?

The only thing she had in common with her family was her white hair and her rather tall height. And everything else was different. Even her eyes were black. Black. When her family had them blue, heavenly.

As she grew up, she began to understand how different she was from her family. She saw how disappointed they were in her for not being like them. So she began to practice and learn as much as she could. By the age of twelve, she already knew all about cursed weapons, she knew how to use them, how to defend herself. But her parents continued to look down on her. They continued to look at her with the same eyes. With pity and disgust.

The only person who didn't seem to look down on her was her brother. Satoru. And still, Kami hated him with all her heart.

She hated being inferior to him. She hated being compared to him. She hated being in his shadow. She hated all of him.

And yet she continued to stay with him. She stayed with him because of that stupid bond, the fear that no one else would accept her, that no one else would love her. Because no matter how angry, pissed off Kami could be at him, no matter how much she could call him names and tell him how much she hated him, he always stayed by her side and never doubted her.

After all, he was her big brother, how could he doubt in his loving little sister, for whom he would give his life, for whom he would do anything.

Satoru loved—duh—loves Kami with all his heart and considers her the smartest, strongest, and most beautiful woman—not girl, woman—he could ever meet. Satoru is the proudest brother, and he couldn't be prouder of how well his little sister, who holds his whole heart, is doing.

Even though she was over a decade younger than him, Kami was able to talk some sense into him more than once, show him how wrong he was about many things. Kami had taught him everything. It was for her that he tried his best. It was for her that he stayed in his family home as long as possible. It was for her that he befriended Megumi, seeing how well the two of them would get along and not being able to pass up the opportunity to find—probably—a lifelong friend for his sister.

And he found one.

Satoru was able to stay with Kami through the nights while she learned all about jujutsu sorcerers, he would bring her tea whenever she ran out of it, he would make her food when he heard her stomach clamoring for a snack. He would be the one to move her helpless body from her desk chair or the floor to her soft and comfortable bed so her back and neck wouldn't hurt the next morning.

He was the one who brought her breakfast every morning, for which he got up two hours earlier before her alarm clock. And when he was out, he would always send her a simple "have a nice day, don't forget to drink water" in the morning with some stupid meme or gif he found on the internet. It was the only thing Kami always woke up at 6:30am for, a silly and simple text message from her brother.

Let's also not forget the "good night, I love you little sister, sleep well" in the evening. Kami would never admit it, but she has screenshots of every single such message, printed out and tucked away in one of her binders, in case her phone breaks or gets lost.

In the end, Kami snapped. After all, how could she hate her brother, who would do anything to make her the happiest person in the world, who would do anything so that only his sister could have the best life, the one she deserved.

A soft knock on the door of her room snapped her out of her thoughts. She knew very well who it was. After all, he had said himself that as soon as he showed Yuuji around, he would come.

"You alive?" Her brother's familiar voice asked and Kami lifted her head from her pillow, smiling softly.

"How do you feel?"

"Like pulled straight from the grave," she muttered, and Satoru laughed, sitting down on the edge of her bed where she lay. "Itadori's been in his room since yesterday?" She asked, and her brother nodded. "Megumi?"

"He and Yuuji are already on their way to Harajuku where we're supposed to meet the fourth student," he replied, and Kami raised an eyebrow.

"Why didn't you go with them?"

"I was waiting for you," he smiled softly and started to speak before Kami had a chance. "And don't tell me you're not going. The fourth student is a girl, maybe you'll get along. Besides, you need to get out of this room eventually. And I don't mean leaving the room to move to Megumi's room or mine," he said as he noticed his sister opening her mouth to start defending herself. "Come on, I'll buy you a bubble tea on the way, okay?"

Kami glared at him for a good few seconds and finally sighed, which caused a big grin to spread across Satoru's face, which Kami smiled at, too.

With the help of her brother, the white-haired girl got out of bed and put on her feet, covered in black knee-high socks, mary-jane boots—the same colour as her socks—from her school uniform.

She quickly looked at herself in the mirror again, checking if her pleated mid-thigh skirt hadn't rolled up and if her short button down jacket, covering her perfectly white turtleneck, hadn't twisted anywhere. Adjusting her hood pinned to her jacket, she walked out the door that Satoru had opened for her, having previously put her phone in her pocket.

Just as Satoru had promised, they quickly bought her favorite strawberry bubble tea on the way and immediately headed towards the street they were supposed to meet at. As soon as they saw two familiar faces in the distance, Satoru raised his hand.

"Sorry for the wait!" He shouted and headed with Kami towards the two teenagers. "Your uniform made it in time, I see," he added when he saw a perfectly fitting uniform for Yuuji.

"Yeah, it's a perfect fit. Though it's slightly different from Fushiguro's. It has a hood, for one," Yuuji said, taking the red hood his uniform had in his hand.

"That's because the uniforms can be customised upon request," Satoru replied.

"Huh? But I never put in any requests."

"I was the one who put in the custom order. With a little help of our master," Satoru smiled, pointing at his sister, who was shorter than him and too focused on her bubble tea to get anything out of the conversation.

"Whatever, I guess," Yuuji replied.

"Be careful. Gojo-sensei has a tendency to do things like that," Megumi interjected, looking at his classmate out of the corner of her eye. "Most importantly, why are we meeting up in Harajuku?"

"Because it's what she asked for," said Satoru.

"Ahh! Popcorn! I want some!"

After a few minutes, Satoru poked his sister with his elbow and, as she raised her eyes at him, he pointed to something by the entrance to the street, or rather, someone.

There stood a redheaded girl, not too tall, tiring of some middle-aged man, but Kami couldn't hear what was going on through the crowd of people making noise around her. The short-haired girl had a very similar uniform to Kami, though this one had brown moccasins, black tights and a white shirt instead of black mary-jane shoes, knee socks and turtleneck.

"This is kinda embarrassing," Yuuji spoke up with his 2018 glasses on his nose and popcorn in one hand, in the other ice cream. Kami shook her head and closed her eyes, going back to drinking her bubble tea.

"So are you," Megumi heard and she snorted softly making the drink she was drinking fly up her nose.

As Kami tried to get rid of the sticky drink from her nose, the redhead approached them and began leading them to 400 Yen Corner where she could leave her luggage.

As the other freshman girl closed the locker with her things, she turned towards the rest of them and put her hand on her hip.

"Ok, once again," Satoru began and pointed his hand at the girl.

"Kugisaki Nobara. Be happy, boys. I'm the one woman in your group," she said, as if she hadn't noticed Kami standing next to her brother at all.

"And what am I? Guide dog?" Kami said, pulling away from her already almost finished drink. Nobara looked at the girl and her eyes lit up.

"Oh, hey! I didn't notice you. We will be great friends!" she said and returned her gaze to the two boys in her year.

"I'm Itadori Yuuji. I'm from Sendai!"

"Fushiguro Megumi."

"Kami Gojo. Guide dog."

After a few seconds in which Nobara looked like she was thinking hard about something, she finally sighed.

"I always get stuck with unfortunate circumstances," she said and sighed once more.

"She took one look and sighed," muttered Itadori.

"Are we going somewhere from here?" Megumi asked, turning his gaze to Satoru, who only laughed.

"We do have all four of you together. Not to mention, two of you are from the countryside," said Satoru, lifting his head proudly and throwing his arm around his sister's shoulders. "So of course we're going on a tour of Tokyo!"

Nobara and Itadori began shouting "Tokyo!", attaching themselves to Satoru, causing Kami to have to walk over to Megumi, throwing away an empty cup on the way.

"We're definitely not going on any tour," Kami muttered, and Fushiguro-kun nodded softly, knowing Gojo-sensei all too well.

"We love Tokyo!"

"TDL! I want to go to TDL!"

"Idiot! TDL's in Chiba! Let's go to Chinatown, Sensei!"

"Chinatown's in Yokohama!"

"Yokohama's part of Tokyo! Don't you know that? Look at a map!"

Kami, Satoru and Megumi were quietly watching the argument that was going on in front of them when the elder Gojo spoke up.

"I will now announce our destination!"

Nobara and Itadori knelt before Satoru at which Kami shook her head with her eyes closed and Megumi deadpanned at them.

"Roppongi!"

"Roppongi?!" Said Itadori and Nobara at the same time, looking at each other, incredibly pleased with what they heard.

[s1rcus]

The Road to Love and Truth (Blackhill)

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 2827

Chapter: 2/2

Fandoms: Marvel

Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Maria Hill, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury

Additional tags: -

Summary: Maria struggles after her night with Natasha. She gets some good advice from Steve.

Authors note: Blackhill Bingo square I3 "Steve Rogers"

Story below the cut or in AO3 here

Maria still has a huge headache. She's been debating taking another aspirin to ease it down for the past 10 minutes, but it hasn't been too long since she took the first one and it might just not be working yet. The situation with Romanoff might not be helping either.

Without thinking she's making her way towards Phil's office. She's not sure why, she knows she won't talk about something like this to him. He's a good friend but she just can't talk about her sex life with him, less about feelings. Maybe he'll have some work she can do to distract her from the night before. She can't use her key card on a day off, (Fury has made it very clear she's not supposed to be doing work during any type of leave) so she can't go to her own office to continue work.

Phil isn't in his office. Now that she actually thinks about it, he has been on a mission since yesterday. She still needs something to distract her though. Maybe Fury would let it slide this once if she'd go do work, but she'd rather not see him right now. She decides to just go for a walk. Hopefully that'll clear her head a little.

------

The fresh air does help her headache and clears her head just the tiniest bit as well. She stands outside of the Triskelion for a short time and decides to go for a short walk along the river.

She keeps her eyes mostly on the water as she walks hands in the pockets of her sweats. She probably should've changed if she's honest, but she didn't want to go back to her room. SHIELD agents weren't that rare sight around these parts, but they definitely didn't go out in their gym clothes. She kicks around some pebbles every once in a while that are lying around the sidewalk.

She loses track of time, trying to just focus on nothing but the movement of the water. And she might have let her guard down, because she gets startled, when a hand taps her on the shoulder.

"Maria, what are you doing out here?"

"Jesus, Steve. Warn a girl next time."

"I literally yelled your name when I saw you. You're not usually this distracted. Are you okay?"

There's concern on his face and Maria doesn't like it one bit. She's fine, and even if she wasn't, everyone else needs to think she is.

"Everything's fine," she lies.

Steve gives her a long look, not quite believing her.

"You can always talk to me, you know? Whatever it is that's bothering you, I'll listen."

Damn Steve, and his kind heart.

"I know," she says.

"Okay, well I'm gonna finish my run. Come and find me if you want to talk about whatever this is," he says as he runs past her.

Maria just waves him off. She continues along the river for a while longer until her headache becomes worse again. Deciding it's best to just go back and take another aspirin, she turns around and heads towards the Triskelion again.

------

Eventually Maria realises she needs to talk to someone so she heads towards Steve's quarters and knocks on his door. He opens the door with a smile. They're good friends but it's quite rare she actually ends up on his doorstep.

"Hey, Maria. What's up?"

"I slept with Natasha," she answers as she pushes past him into his room. She sits on his bed, head in her hands. She hears the door click shut as Steve closes it.

"Not what I was expecting. How are you feeling?"

Maria groans at the question, "I don't know. I find out she's queer and few days later I find her in my bed. That's not how that should go. And worst of all I want to do it again, but I don't think I can just keep it at that."

"So you want to ask her out?"

"I think so?" She says and lays down on the bed so she can stare at the ceiling. "But I'm her superior, it's unprofessional, not to mention way too complicated. How am I supposed to be able to send her out there, if I'm worried if she'll make it back? How is Fury supposed to trust in me, if I get compromised because of her? Or what if I make the wrong decision, because I can't--" Steve cuts her off. She feels the bed dip, as he sits next to her on the bed and places a hand on her knee.

"Maria, you're forgetting one important thing, she's the Black Widow, she knows how to handle herself. Do you know how many times she's saved me out there? Because I've lost count by now. And Fury won't see you any differently if you start showing normal people emotions. Also stop worrying about 'what if's. Those are situations you can't know the answers for before it's too late. And for the record, I think you're already compromised. You care more about her than you know. Have for a long time."

"Fuck", Maria breaths the word out.

"Language."

"No, I actually fucked up."

"What did you do?"

"I just left her. She wanted to talk, and I just left her. I wasn't thinking clearly. I told her it was a mistake. Well it technically was because that was definitely not how I wanted that to go, but… I let her believe I don't want her. Shit!" She gets up quickly and starts pacing around. "I gotta go find her. Tell her that I'm sorry for how I treated her. That last night was great. Not that I really remember anything. To hopefully ask her properly out." She freezes on her tracks and turns to face Steve. "What if she says no? How am I supposed to continue working with her then?"

"Maria", Steve warns her.

"Right, won't know the answers before it's too late." She takes a deep breath. "Okay, I'm gonna go to find her. I wonder where she could be."

"At the gym with Barton."

"How would you know that?"

"Just a hunch."

------

She does find Natasha at the gym. She's beating up Barton at the mats. Maria decides to just stay by the door and watch, she'll notice her eventually. Natasha seems more tense than normal, maybe even a little angry. She doesn't move around as smoothly as she usually does. Her movements are a little more jacked, more forced. Maria realises that she's not fighting with a clear head. She's trying to push her feelings out. Maria was the reason the Widow's usually flawlessly smooth fighting style looked harsh and broken. It makes her heart twinge.

Eventually Natasha pins Barton down and he taps out. She gets up and her gaze shifts to Maria's. Maria physically flinches under her gaze. She quickly straightens her back and neutralises her face, when Barton gets back onto his feet and notices her presence.

"Commander," he coughs, eyes moving from Maria to Natasha and back again. After a couple of beats of silence he starts backing towards the men's locker room. "I'll just go then."

Maria just looks at Natasha, not really sure what she's supposed to say. Before she's able to say anything, Natasha turns on her heels and heads towards the women's locker rooms. That gets Maria on the move as well. She runs after Natasha and grabs her from the upper arm.

"Natasha wait," Maria says and Natasha stops on her tracks. "I'm sorry about earlier. Can we talk?"

Natasha turns around and Maria tries to look as apologetic as she can. Natasha just stares at her for a while.

"Fine. My quarters in 10."

Maria nods and drops her hold of the other woman. She didn't even realise she had still been holding her upper arm. Natasha eyes her quickly once more before she turns around again and heads out of sight to the locker room. Maria just stands still for a while, looking after her, until she spins around as well and heads out of the gym and towards Natasha's quarters.

------

Natasha is punctual as ever, and appears exactly 10 minutes later. Maria follows her silently into her room. Natasha sits down on her bed, one leg under herself while the other hangs off the edge. Maria is reminded of the morning. She stays standing near the door, but is faced towards Natasha. She's trying to figure out her words, even though she's been trying to figure out what to say ever since she walked out of Steve's quarters.

"Well?" Natasha prompts her.

"I fucked up. I'm really sorry for how I treated you. I panicked and I fucked up. I try my best to keep my private life and work separate, and I mostly live at work so… I'm having a hard time, to put it lightly. I also have never done this before."

"What? Been with a woman?" Natasha asks with a serious tone. It takes Maria a beat to realise she's not actually seriously asking that.

"No, Romanoff. You know that's not what I meant. I mean sleeping with a co-worker. Actually kinda never slept with anyone without being on a date first. And especially never had someone in my bed in a SHIELD facility."

"So I was your first one night stand?"

"About that, I wouldn't mind doing it again."

"Was I that good?" Natasha asks with a smirk.

"Natasha! I'm not talking about the sex. I'm talking about all of it. Everything since the mission. Spending time together at that bar and during the mission and also everything that came after."

"Wow. Is Commander Hill getting soft?"

"No,” she says. Taking a breath she continues, “I'd just like to see if this could become something. You're one of the few people around here who I can stand, and I actually had a really nice time yesterday. And I'm not regretting what happened after, so that probably says a lot."

Natasha gives her a small smile.

"What changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"You left the room in such a hurry and now you're here saying you don't regret it."

"Yeah, that. I might've talked to Steve and he had some good advice."

"You went to Steve?" Natasha's voice sounds almost scandalous.

"Who else would I go to? Fury? Do you think I have many friends around here? People who I could talk to?"

"Fair enough."

"So, if I'd ask you out on a date what would you say?"

"I would love to, but do you really want to go on a date? Because I feel like we're not the dating kind of people."

That was actually fair, she did always hate going on dates.

"What do you suggest then?"

"How about this?" Maria is really unsure about how she should feel about the smirk that follows that one simple question.

Natasha gets up and walks towards Maria. She stops when their chests are basically touching. She grabs Maria's hands and wraps them around her waist. Then she wraps her own arms around Maria's neck and rises up on her toes to kiss her. Maria basically melts into it. Eventually she lifts Natasha up and they move on the bed. Natasha seems very impressed that Maria can lift her. Maria might be a bit hurt about that.

------

When they decide to leave for an early lunch (neither remembered to eat breakfast), they're barely 100 feet down the hallway from Natasha's room, when they're stopped by a junior agent.

"Commander, Agent Romanoff. Director Fury wants to speak to both of you."

Maria and Natasha exchange a look.

"Did he say what about?" Maria asks.

"Not really," the Agent answers but there's a look on his face Maria doesn't like. It's like he knows something he shouldn't.

Maria debates for a little bit, if she should push and get some answers from him but decides against it. She dismisses the agent and starts heading towards the Directors office with Natasha.

They get a couple weird looks and smiles on the way there. They walk the whole way in silence. Both clearly trying to figure out what Fury wants from them.

Fury sees them immediately, which tells Maria that it's something important. She's getting nervous. Natasha is here as well, so her mind goes only to a specific direction, but how would Fury know?

"Director Fury, you wanted to see us?" Maria greets him.

"Hill, Romanoff. Has either of you checked the news today or any social media?"

Natasha shakes her head. She's been awfully quiet after they ran into that agent.

"No, sir. I haven't checked my phone at all today. Pretty sure it's dead anyway. I've been a bit distracted," Maria answers truthfully. There's no point in lying.

"Well, you probably should stay out of social media for a little while but that's just a suggestion. Do you have anything else to report to me?" His eye shifts from Maria to Natasha and back.

He knows. Maria takes a deep breath. She feels Natasha's hand touch hers, a sign that it's okay.

"Yes, sir. We, uh... Natasha and I are involved."

"Will it be affecting your work?"

"No, sir."

"Then I'm happy for you," he says with the slightest hint of a smile.

Maria is surprised and she can sense that so is Natasha. She lets her posture get a little more relaxed.

"Now to the real reason I invited you in," Fury says as he pulls some tabloid articles up on the screen behind himself. They're all saying basically the same thing: Black Widow at a gay bar with a mystery woman . Some of them have clearly done a better job with trying to figure out who this "mystery woman" is because a couple of them have actual pictures of Maria along with her name. And there's pictures. Pictures of them kissing, the intense looks they changed during that night and pictures of them leaving together.

"We tried to get them down before they spread too far, but clearly we didn't manage that. Anything about the Avengers' personal life spreads like a fire. I'm sorry about the situation it puts you in."

Both of the women just nod. There wasn't anything to say. Fury takes this as his answer and turns off the screen.

"Well then, you're dismissed. Hill, if you could stay for just a little longer?"

Natasha squeezes her shoulder a little before she steps out of the room.

"Sir?"

"No reason to be that formal anymore. This is just me checking on you. How are you feeling?"

"Well, that's a lot, but I think I'm fine. It's not the way I wanted things to go, but I guess it's good that it's out. If we wish to go out, now we don't need to worry if someone sees us or not."

"Okay, still I wish the situation wasn't this. I strongly suggest that you don't check any social media for the next few days. I know you think you can handle it, but there's gonna be some bad stuff there and I'd prefer the dust settles a bit first. Also if anyone, and I mean anyone, in SHIELD gives either of you a hard time because of this, let me know. I will handle it. It's out there, so everyone knows. I wish you could've handled this on your own terms, but the situation is what it is."

Maria smiles at him.

"Thank you, Director. I know I said it won't affect my work, and I truly believe and hope so, but if it ever seems like I'm putting her before the mission; pull me out of it, if possible. I know I won't be happy about it, but I need to know that I won't be making mistakes because I'm compromised."

"Of course. But I have full belief that you'll do great even then."

Maria nods and heads towards the door but Fury's voice makes her turn around before she gets to open it.

"Also, before you go. I am truly happy for you, Maria."

Maria smiles at him and nods her thanks and joins Natasha on the other side of the door.

Natasha hugs her as she closes the door. Maria circles her arms around her and presses her cheek against Natasha's head.

"That went better than I expected." She hears Natasha mumble against her chest.

"It did," Maria agrees.

"I'm so sorry about the articles though. If I would've just realised--" Maria quiets her with a kiss.

"Natasha, there's nothing you could've done about it. The second we walked in there everyone was paying extra attention to us. Those articles would be there even if we hadn't kissed. I'm just glad we did. I don't think I would've ever dared to take this step otherwise," Maria says. She looks Natasha in the eye and they exchange smiles. "Now, how about that lunch?"

[nose-bandaid]

a hug per dollar

hello! it's me, the platonic anon from before... may i request a non-romantic, changgu & gender-neutral reader, coffee/study date? and maybe you could work in a reassuring hug 🥺 thank you so much 💛

Yeo One (Changgu) x (gender neutral) Reader | Platonic fluff + comfort?! | 1.8k words

synopsis: overworking can sometimes be an easy, but terrible habit to fall into, but luckily, changgu is there to drag you out when you do.

a/n: lol i think i projected this to have 1.2k but it ended up with 1.8 but i am not complaining !!!! to my dear platonic anon, sorry this took so long ksdhfkdsj i hope you enjoy it !! i may or may not have done an uno reverse on stud.hui.o fanatic because now it is the reader who's overworking BAM 💛

=====

"Don't you think we've been here for long enough?"

Your hand stopped writing the flurry of notes and you looked at your friend, who peered back at you over his laptop. "Changgu, it's literally only been..."

You flipped your phone over to look at the time on its display and faltered when you realized just how late into the day it was. "I guess we have been here for a while."

"Which is exactly why I think we should—"

"But I'm not ready to leave yet!" You snapped back, immediately backing off when you realized how harsh your voice was.

"You didn't get much sleep last night, did you?" He pressed on and you buried your face back into the piles of work laid in front of you.

"We don't talk about that either."

He let you be and the two of you went back to working in silence for the next while until Changgu eventually got up from his seat. Your eyes followed him as he stretched and let out a sigh. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

"Okay." You replied, and returned to your work.

=====

Not long after, a juice box slid into your view and you looked up at Changgu who returned after his bathroom break that took much longer than a usual bathroom break would've taken. You quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

"You got juice from the bathroom?"

He laughed and you took note of the other juice box in his hand — the exact same flavour as yours. "Of course I did. They added vending machines in the bathroom recently, didn't you know that?"

You decided to play along. "Is that so? No, I didn't know that. But do enlighten me as to why you would ever trust a vending machine located in the bathroom."

He laughed at your small jest. "Nah, I just went on an adventure to grab us some fuel." He dropped back into his seat and let out a relieved hum as he stared at his laptop. "After finishing that stupid essay I think I deserved the treat."

"You know, if you're done working you can always head back first. I'm fine on my own."

He shook his head adamantly at your offer. "This is our study session, you know? It's a we thing," he emphasized that with a point to the table. "So I'm not leaving until you're also done."

You sent him a small smile in appreciation and returned to your textbook, taking a small sip from the juice box as you did. It was refreshing and in the back of your mind, you wondered how he knew this was your favourite flavour. You didn't recall ever telling him.

"Though I think you've done more than enough work for today."

You didn't miss the next thing he muttered quietly.

"Look, Changgu, I'll just finish this chapter and we can call it today, okay?" You desperately held up a finger to assist in your pleading.

"One chapter and one chapter only." He reluctantly gave in, deciding to get a head start on another assignment in the meanwhile. Once again, you settled back into a comfortable silence, listening to the distant voices of others in the library.

You ended up finishing that chapter quicker than you initially thought you would and it flared up a new flame of determination within you. You could cram in a few more chapters then, right? You'll get them done in no time, especially with the flow you had now.

Agreeing with yourself, you got started right away.

You're pretty sure Changgu noticed when you flipped the page again.

And again.

And again.

Surely he's noticed the way you're slouched over a bit more now, the way your eyes were drooping and your gaze became unfocused. The way you've hardly touched the bag of snacks since he opened it. But you kept on going. Your determination knew no limits and you kept on going despite all the rational part of you that screamed at you to stop.

...Now, where did you leave off before you started daydreaming?

Right, at the end of this paragraph. You returned to staring at the mundane words in the textbook. You swore you were almost finished with this page but you also told yourself that what felt like hours ago. No matter how many times you read the same sentence over and over again, the words never seemed to stick in your mind. Your hand couldn't figure out what to write and what to leave out. All of it seemed important and you cursed the way your next exam weighed so much and yet gave you such vague preparation instructions. If only you had started studying earlier... but wasn't one week enough? Maybe you just weren't fit for this? Probably, because —

Changgu placed his hand onto yours. He gently pulled the pen out of your grasp and gestured for you to look at him.

"Let's take a break, you have no say in it. Seeing you like this makes me exhausted, I can't take this anymore."

No matter how many times you've drilled into your mind that it was absolutely not okay to take a break, the moment you heard the words from someone else, your composure crumbled.

You let out a deep sigh and let your weight rest on the table. "Yeah let's."

Changgu helped you pack your work away after cleaning up his own and waited until you were fully ready. When you slid the chair back to its former home, he held out a hand for you to take and you happily took a place by his side.

"Are you going to take me on another adventure?" You playfully asked, already feeling a little better now that your work was tucked away.

He shrugged. "Honestly, I had no clue where I was going to take you 'cause I didn't think you'd actually stop studying. But sure! Let's make this an adventure."

Stepping outside, you realized how much nicer it was to have a change of scenery. It was already late afternoon, the sun shining brightly above, engulfing you in a pleasant kind of warmth.

You sighed inwardly, this would've been more relaxing if your mind would just stop drifting back to all the work you still to be done. Hadn't you done enough? You worked so hard for the past who-knows-how-many-hours and yet it only left you unsatisfied and even more stressed.

Maybe it just wasn't enough.

A gentle bop on your head brought you out of your thoughts and you stared at Changgu, his hand still raised from bonking your bad thoughts away.

"Stop thinking so much." He crossed his arms and looked at you pointedly.

"Huh?"

Squinting his eyes, his face leaned into yours, getting closer and closer, and you found yourself edging away from the intrusion. Just as quickly as it started, he suddenly disappeared, straightening his back again and letting out a huff.

"Just as I thought."

"What?" You asked again, still lost.

"You're thinking bad things about yourself again! Stop that."

"How did you know?"

He playfully punched your shoulder at that. "I'm your best friend, you think I wouldn't notice these things? You always have this expression on your face when you're beating yourself up. Looks kinda stupid."

Your mouth gaped at his remark. "Hey!'

"I'm kidding, you never look stupid," he smiled and continued. "But what is stupid is you thinking that you're not good enough because you can't keep up with everything that's going on. Can you really blame yourself if some uncontrollable force decided to dump an unreasonable amount of work on you all at once? You're doing your best, which is one, really paying off because I swear you've covered like a billion chapters today. And two, is extremely cool — I heard the group studying behind us gush about how hard you were working and guess what?"

"...What?" You asked hesitantly, still trying to recover from your friend's spiel.

Changgu grabbed your shoulders to keep your attention. "I also think you're really really cool!!" He announced loudly, capturing the attention of a mother and her daughter nearby. They walked away after the initial surprise.

Your lip trembled, not even having it within you to be embarrassed by his public confession. Instead, you were overwhelmed by his kindness. "Changgu..."

He pulled you into a hug and you basked in his presence. The faint smell of fresh laundry lingered on his hoodie and you melted into his comfort. "You're doing great, and you'd be doing even better if you let yourself breathe for a moment. As overwhelming as it may feel, the only thing that's going to bring you down is yourself if you keep on going at this rate — not your work." He gently scolded before he pulled away and cupped your face, eyes boring into yours.

"Got that?"

You nodded hesitantly. "Yes."

"I don't know... that wasn't really convincing..."

You laughed lightly and pushed his hands away from you. "I got it, I got it, Changu. Thank you so much." You found yourself much more relaxed after your talk. "From studying with me to buying me snacks and comforting me... aargh, I appreciate it."

Changgu simply gave you a bright smile. "Anything for you."

That was all he said, but those 3 words were enough to express just how much you meant to each other.

"Besides, I don't think of it as a chore, any time spent with you is great."

You pouted. "You're too good for me, seriously. How can I make it up to you?"

In all honesty, you expected him to dismiss the question, but instead, Changgu's eyes wandered off as he placed a finger on his chin. "Well, I did notice that my favourite drink is on sale when I passed by that cafe on the way here..."

You sent him an amused look. "The juice wasn't enough?"

"Are you telling me to pass on a sale that takes a whole dollar off?"

Once again, you found yourself playing along with his act and your eyes widened. "Oh geez, you're right, we can't miss out on that." Pushing Changgu from behind, you ushered him forward. "Let's get moving! We spent so much time in the library the shop's going to close by the time we get there."

Changgu chuckled as you caught up and fell into step with his movements. "I'm glad to see that you're back to normal."

"And I'm glad we get to save a buck on overpriced drinks. Thanks for everything, Changgu." You swiftly replied and he sent a smile your way.

"Anytime."