#and at least right now i feel like. i dont wanna run that risk

[kurthorton-moving]

me wanting to change classes in the 1st week

[fatuismooches]

hi!!! i really like your writings! i got an idea for dottore's headcanon but i dont even know if this is out of character or no..

so what if dottore giving aftercare comforting fragile!reader after a rough session? Thank you!! Please dont force yourself to write this if you dont wanna!

Hehe... ehehehehe 🤭 (Warning: Under the cut for suggestive content, nothing explicit is mentioned though, fluffy fluff aftercare)

Well, you probably are not going to be walking for a bit, considering both your health and the strenuous activity you just did took a lot out of you. You would not even want to leave the bed, maybe even half-falling asleep since you're really tired (although feeling very loved) Though Dottore always keeps you awake for the first part of his "aftercare." By aftercare I mean he will be running a ton of examinations and check-ups on you right after. Temperature, heart rate, eyes, mouth, vitals, the whole thing. And you know there is no snoozing during that... he expects your full cooperation, since this is for your own good! No, you can't beg your way out of this one! (Also because he needs to reassure himself that he didn't truly hurt you, to think that he genuinely hurt you would not sit well with him.) After this part, he... doesn't really know what to do. This simply isn't his kind of thing... perhaps handing him a book to read about what to do will probably be best. Do a little presentation with a whiteboard too, actually. Though Dottore wants to know how you feel, genuinely. Was it too much? Were you in pain? He needs to know for next time, and for research. He can't risk your health for pleasure. So... at least he's capable of communicating after the deed! Only medically, though.

Begging for massages and him refusing and then you getting pouty and whiny until he gives in, because you will probably have some aches. I imagine he has some nice salves specially made for you too. Because your body will be hurting (in a good way) from everything and also the numerous bite marks he gave you... while he's taking care of you he likes to trace them and laugh (what a guy 😒) They are all over your thighs, chest, neck, etc... you think he is trying to set a new record every time you two do it since he is literally counting them. At the very least, he'll stay with you until you fall asleep. Because you probably get a bit emotional and very clingy after any session, since you really do love him so much. You want to cuddle nude and he scolds you every time because he doesn't want your body to get cold, but he gives in just for a few minutes as his own warmth and blankets substitute for now. On days when you don't feel sleepy and don't want to leave him, he'll let you sit on his lap as he rubs your sore spots with one hand and the other writes away. Dottore would also laugh at you if you asked if he needed you to care of him too. You're amusing. You two trace each other's scars every time too. It's a routine. He will also drag you to take a bath if it's necessary. He always questions why you try to fight him every time though. Obviously, he isn't the best, but outside of that insane doctor brain of his, is a part who truly does want you to be comfortable.

[specialstay]

[05:35am]

very angsty with some self-doubt, him being very distant

This feeling in your chest again. Burning with pain and somewhat with love. Love hidden underneath a layer of disgust, pain and confusion.

Disgusted at yourself for still plaing his game, listening to his cards and words who seemingly have no intentions in making you feel loved nor wanted at this moment.

Pain because a part of you still sees him as your loving boyfriend who once would never hurt you in any kind of way, who would hold the door for you in pouring rain and would always make sure that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Confusion for his actions and words he has said to your face, ignoring how much he hurts you and ignoring the tears that make your face shimmer in the moonlight.

You didnt know how to react in situations like these. A part of you knows that hes not really feeling this way when he says that you dont matter to him right now, when he says that he wants to be alone right now and when he says that he doesnt care about anyhthing right now.

Right now...

Those two words that you hated at this point in your relationship.

Because yes, right now you dont want the leftover chicken in the fridge but throwing it away would be stupid because you were already planning on eating it for luch, but not right now.

Has he no sense for the future?

"Im getting sick of this" you finally say after hours of silence in your shared apartment.

"Aha" was the only response you got and he didnt even look up from his phone, nothing new when he was mad.

"I did nothing to deserve this. I did nothing wrong and I'm very much able to look objectively on a situation and acknowledge a mistake of mine" you said a little louder but you never screamed. Anger wont help your situation and would only make it worse.

To no surprise you didnt get an answer which only made you angrier. But who can blame you?

"I only told you "good morning, " but apparently, that was enough to make you mad again, and im really running out of options and patience here! Tell me, what was it this time? Was my morning breath so bad? Was there not enough toilet paper in the bathroom today?" You couldn't help the sarcastic comment, but at least you never shouted at him.

His eyes showed pure annoyance, and he doesn't even have to look you in the eyes for you to see that. You were considered a lucky start if he looked you in the eyes when he was mad.

"I dont wanna talk" was a surprisingly long answer for his circumstances but not long enough for you to be satisfied. Angry you stood up from the couch were the both of you were just sitting on and went to the kitchen.

Maybe going to your moms house for a few days was a good option for now.

"You never wanna talk, it's eating me alive! I did nothing but the best for you the past few weeks, i was always silent when you were angry because of some bullshit and I'm always hoping for you to be you again! Im hoping that the old you comes back, the one i fell in love with" you said loud enough for him to hear in the living room, you knew exactly that he never looked up once since you left the room.

"The old me is gone! The "one you fell in love with" is fucking gone and he wont come back" he finally answered while you grab your keys and coat. "No he is not! He is just hidden beneath all that self hate of yours and has trouble coming back, trouble i cant help with!" You finally shout now and unlock the front door, your heart screaming to go back inside, hug and kiss him until you both find a solution and finally fall alseep in his arms like you used to.

But your brain is telling you to go outside that door, leave him here and potentially risk your relationship and leave all the good memories you both have behind, just like leaving him behind on that couch.

Would he even care?

Would he even care now that youre about to leave this appointment?

Care about you and your feelings?

[nrrrdgrrrl2002]

Decided to take a crack at somewhat rewriting this scene since

I hate it

“What the hell were you thinking?! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?!”

“Well excuse me for not wanting to let a CHILD DIE!”

“That child could’ve gotten you killed!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take!”

“WELL IM NOT!”

“I DONT CARE! I’m an adult too! If I wanna stick my neck out for someone, that’s my choice! I’m not 10 anymore so quit treating me like I don’t know what I’m doin!”

“BUT I CANT RISK LOSING YOU AGAIN!”

Starts tearing up

“Don’t…

mugs, when I thought you were dead, I felt like….

it felt like a piece of my heart broke off I-….

I can’t go through that again, mugs….”

“…

well maybe now you know how I feel everytime you run off and put your life in danger.

It ain’t fun, ain’t it?”

“…”

“Cmon. We’re gonna make sure the others are alright”

Walks off

Wipes away tears and takes a shaky breath

“You remember what we have to do, right?”

“Of course I do. I’ve always understood. Far better than you. That’s why I’m being as kind to them as I can now”

“Hm. That’s a funny mentality to have”

Gets annoyed and continues walking

Takes mugs hand

“Maybe I should start doin the same”

Smirks at him

Smirks back

“This is gonna hurt real bad, ain’t it?”

“More than anything we’ve ever gone through yet”

“Least we’ll be the monsters together”

“Yeah….

Just monsters….”

[krowsindulgences]

IDK HOW TUMBLR WORKS I HOPE IM DOING THIS RIGHT! Do 4 with Curt and Kristine i feel like that would be hilarious

A/N: Time to remember what knowledge was there from the oversimplified prohibition period! This was a nice thing to write through. Thanks, anonymous! Whoever you can be. (lighthearted)

Escape The Night AU/Scenario

They open the door with a creak.

"This is... empty." Ivan looks from the back of the rest whilst Den coughs.

"Oh god what the hell-" She continues coughing as Curt pats her back. Christian walks into the dark room, a paper in hand.

"Wow, this is..." Kristine follows his lead, a flashlight in her hand. It illuminates alan unkempt stage, bar area and multiple seats and tables.

"Is this it?"

"Looks like it. Its an abandoned speakeasy." Curt holds another flashlight, it pointing to something on the stage. It seems to be an upside down pyramid shaped... Thing. The bottom is bent to look like its suctioning the wood it stand on. Though, it looks more like a wine glass now that she thinks about it...

"There! Thats the artifact!" Den state the obvious as she runs up to it, trying to snatch it from the pedestal its placed on.

"Wait, dont touch it yet! You wont know what it does." Curt easily catches up to her.

"Why not? I dont want to go do another voting thingy! Ill just take it, easy!" She faces towards him whilst walking back to the artifact before turning to it hastily, easily getting it out of its place. Nothing happens. Kristines looks around the place curiously.

"Thats... Easy-" The sudden round of jazz music made her jump. What she doesnt notice is Christian getting the paper.

"At least this tells us what to do..." Amongst the music, his voice just sounds like a second echo.

"Ugh, could that music just STOP already?!" Ivans dreads as he covers his ears.

"Den, place it back!" Christian turns to her, whos shaking the artifact.

"Ooh, theres alcohol in here..." Den tries to open it by herself, which, proves to not budge.

"DEN!" Now she can hear his voice.

"Uh, huh?"

"PLACE IT BACK THERE!" Den... Looks away from him. "Oh my GOD. DEN."

"Fine, fine...." She places it back on the pedestal, and the music stops. Everyone gives a sigh of relief.

"Fucking finally I can read this, ahem...

'Before you is the artifact you are looking for. Sadly, it is incomplete and will need some ingredients to complete the cocktail. This place is full of-' POISON GAS?! WHAT THE FUCK?! 'and the cocktail will provide the cure. But first,'"

A light from above shines onto a box on the table.

"Oh shit, uh, 'Two people will have to volunteer themselves.'

Now what the hell does that mean?"

"We wont know until after it happens."

"Then why dont you do it, Ivan?"

"I LITERALLY HELPED YOU ALL WITH THE LAST ONE I AM NOT RISKING MY LIFE AGAIN-"

"Okay, okay, its fine Ivan. Ill do it, it alright. Kristine will also, 'cause Ill be dragging her into this."

"Wait, why I dont wanna do this-" She sputters out

"Dont worry, you will." He grabs Kristine as he walks over to the table. "So... What do I do, Christian?"

"Oh. Put your hands in there."

"Okay so can I just NOT do this, pleas-"

"Kristine yoive literally done almost nothing."

"Noooooo!" She reluctantly places her habd in the box, right after Curt, and then...

Click!

She decides to pull her hand out and- "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Oh my god you two are handcuffed." Ivan looks on with surprise. "So, what do we do now?" Everyone looks over to Christian, though nervous ftom hearing other footsteps from inside. Christian takes a deep breath in...

"RUN." And sprints out the front door with a cheeky grin.

"Hey, what the-"

"Bitch!"

"I am not going to make it..."

"You literally have me with you, Kris-" Gunshots quickly sound the room.

"OH GOD IS THIS A CHASE SEQUENCE?!" Ivan decides to run after Christian, wherever hes gone through. Den goes to the back door, surprisingly not getting hit. Kristine has multiple questions in her mind before being carried away from the scene because of Curt.

"PUT ME DOWN, PUT ME DOWN, PUT ME DOOOWN!" She could probably hear him laughing at this.

...

She doesnt know how long hes running for.

"Are we safe, Kristine?"

"Looks like it, can you put me down no-"

"Not yet."

"Come on... What are we supposed to find, anyways?"

"Itd probably be noticable, but I think... Ingredients? What can you think?"

"Something like... Lime? Other alcohol stuff?"

"Oh, maybe that clinic over there. We could probably find something there... Maybe..?"

"Alright..." She gets finally put down as they both go inside...

"Oh. So this is it." Before them is a table with three bottles in a clear glass, visibly in different colors: red, blue, and yellow. They both walk forward and grab the paper.

"Find the color Brown." Kristine

"Damn, I know... Nothing about this."

"Me too! Do we just... Mix it all together? Then just chug it."

"Were not supposed to chug it, Kristine."

"I know, I know!

...

But..."

"Oh my god..." Kristine giggles. "Why am i with you?"

"Your fault now deal with MY bullshit!" They both laugh.

"But, mixing it all together seems plausible. Do it." Kristine grabs the bottles and mixes them up together, it all in a small bottle.

"Yep, thats brown! Ill keep it." Kristine hands over the mixture to Curt, keeping it in his pocket.

"Oh yea, that artifact needs... Four ingredients, right? Those four compartments?"

"Good eye." They were interrupted by a gunshot.

Kristine looks out, despite her doubts. "Den..?"

Den holds out a gun in one hand, artifact in the other. She eyes around for anyone else.

"DEN!" She says again whilst runs out, before hearing a thud. "Oh. Sorry Curt." He looks back at her, inconvenienced. The two look back to run over to her.

"Hey! We got something!" Curt alarms her.

"Put it here!" Den runs over to them as Curt pours in the substance. "What is that?"

"Probably more alcohol. How many did you get?"

"Ivan should be here with one of them. I was just trying to take care of these guys."

"You havent found Christian?"

"No. Not at all. Was hoping he got something."

"HERE!" Ivan runs in with another bottle, pouring it in.

"Two down, two more... Where have you searched?"

"The clinic, right over there." Kristine pointd over to where they were.

"I just stole something from a house."

"Good job, Ivan. Ill try to search somewhere else, so you carry this." She hands over the artifact to him.

"Wait, wha- aaannd shes gone. Where the hell..."

"I can go somewhere else-" Kristine walks back before she trips bit keeps her stand. "Sorry! I forgot about-"

"The handcuff thing."

"The handcuff thing."

"God damnit, why did those weird lights bring us into here..." Ivan furrows his brow at Curts statement.

"Wait... Lights... Wouldnt that be... Den?"

"Den?" Kristine seems confused at that inquiry.

"Yea. Shes the god of chaos with like, multiple souls in her body."

"Oh shit. The souls revoluted?!"

"Maybe? I dont know. The only person who could know about it is...

Chilly."

"What is she again?"

"Raptor God. I... Dont know where she went." They were soon interrupted by a rushing Den with an injured Christian.

"I FOUND IT! THE TWO!"

"CHRISTIAN!" Curt runs towards them causing Kristine to almost get dragged across the street.

"HEY HEY HEY! IM HANDCUFFED TO YOU!"

"Sorry!" Curt picks Kristine up again.

"WHY?! I DID NOT CONSENT!"

"Okay, Ill put you down." He eyes worridly to his injured friend.

"WERE YOU GUYS JUST STANDING HERE?!" Insert an awkward silence.

"Is Christian alright?"

"Im fine..." Definitely not. Absolutely not. "Now wheres the one..." Den places her ingredient into the artifact, then Christian places his in, blood accidentaly dripping onto the item. It glows on where it was.

"What the hell does that mean..." He picks it up and Ivan notices a peculiarly shaped thick paper on the ground, its ends being a weird, short ridge poking out of it in an even space. He picks it up.

"Yo, I think this dropped a paper."

"Read it, Ivan."

"Alright,

'You have found four ingredients, but are missing one. An essence of someones life.' God damnit." The rest groan in response. " 'You will have to vote on two people to fight the people chasing after you. Quite a show, is it not?

Well then, you have the key.'

Thats it...."

"When are we not going to be handcuffed anymore? If one of us gets in, how about ME?"

"Yea, how about- Kristine."

"That was a joke!" Christian eyes the paper for a few moments, grabbing it and looking to Curt.

"Give me your hand."

"The cuffed one?" He nods in response. Curt shows him and Christian uses the oddly shaped paper to unlock the handcuffs. "Oh..."

"Ah, smart!" And thus, they are free from whatever that volunteering was for. "So, how do we vote?"

"Thats easy!" A cheery person appears to them like a goddess, her rather strange arm holding out papers. "Sorry for being late."

"What are you hiding..?" Ivan stares at Chilly. She stares back, in the creepy way like a doll could.

"Just write the name of whom you want to participate in these papers! Just one, though! But, lets go somewhere else comfortable so that someone doesnt shoot you all in the open." She walks away.

The rest have no choice but to follow. To control and be controlled of their lives

A/N: Time to remember what knowledge was there from the oversimplified prohibition period! Th

[scarletanpan]

..

I'm starting to think theres an issue beyond being off my meds bc back from family trip a full day ago, and was in sm pain and covered w bruises on my arms and legs I didn't make it to work.. the excessive bruising is weird, I'm clumsy but theres abt 4-5 on each limb, and one on my face from my niece smacking me w a dog plushie while I was laying on the bed?? I think its bc of my glasses but Ive never bruised on my face, theres at least 2 now. also covered in giant bug bites that arent going away quickly even w witch hazel And looking into effexor since im on it and og my god. Not the list of meds u can take but dont mix well being like 100 names, every med ive taken i think is on it, both forms of adderall too. ik the symptoms that are rarer is an extensive list only for functional purposes but why am i experiencing so many of them. ik im at risk for a number of precautions when taking it, and may or not may not be experiencing symptoms related to those too

they say u should get labs on it regularly i never have but didnt know damn. a lil concerned abt the acute angle-glaucoma thing, first of all wtf i did Not remember seeing that side effect and my family has a history of eye issues. i get regular eye pain and razed two mailboxes in my parents neighborhood last year bc my vision whited out mid turn and i felt this weird overwhelming pain w pressure in one side of my head. never figured out what it was when i went to the doctor but. sudden extreme pressure on one side, close to my eyes, the steamy vision all sounds right. idk how i didnt run into this when i tried to search it up the issue before, i dont wanna assume but its raising too many red flags rn i got a brain scan but they said i was perfectly fine and, so i never followed up and it happened a couple more times multiple things arent meshing well w my family history/genetics. starting to realize the amount of physical pain and exhaustion ive been it for three months is kind of abnormal and needs a solution before i die. at least i have a starting point but like this is gonna cost money huh

also maybe shouldnt be working a job that requires staring at the road for 1-4 hrs a day and then stocking as quickly as u physically can (in theory im fucking slow). i wonder why i struggle sm i might not be physically capable rn. prob failing one of my classes this summer bc it took too long to realize this. ill try to prioritize it bc i paid money for this shit but the shame i feel from pushing back work feels lethal, i havent fucked up enough to get fired yet but atp itd be a saving grace. im so sorry to my coworkers im sure theyre annoyed and confused rn

[caught-the-lovebug]

hey so i could use some advice about a crush. so i just met this guy in july and weve become friends but i very quickly developed feelings for him. every time i think about him i smile and hes just a really nice guy. i want to tell how i feel but im not sure how or when to do it. we dont know each other that well yet and im worried if i tell him he wont wanna be friends anymore if he doesnt like me back and i really wanna at least be friends with him. so what do u think i should do?

This is hard. It depends so much on you personally.

When I get crushes on new friends, I am quick to ask them out so I can stamp out the crush before I get too attached if they say no. And it's bonus really great if it leads to something.

But not everyone wants to do that and it does run the risk of losing that friend.

In my experience, if you're open but not pressuring, things tend to turn out fine. But that doesn't always happen.

It's up to you, you know this person better than I do and are more likely to know how he'd react.

If you decide to tell him, it's best to do so when you're not around any mutual friends and probably in public so he doesn't feel cornered. A park or somewhere else public but quiet would probably be good in my opinion. Over text also works well so he can process in his own time and respond when he's ready.

I asked a guy out once at 9pm in a Taco Bell while our mutual friend was in the toilet. That was not an ideal location but it went well. We didn't end up dating but he's my best friend now.

In my experience, asking "Do you want to go on a date with me?" Or something along those lines has better results than confessing your feelings in detail. And also way better results than "do you want to be my boyfriend?" Don't jump right into commitment or overwhelm someone with how you feel for them when they might not feel the same.

If you don't want to go on a date though, it is okay to just say like "hey, so you know, I think I'm developing a crush on you."

It's all about what's comfy for you and what you want to do. Obviously, you want to take his potential feelings into account but you gotta put yours first.

Good luck! You've got this. There's no shame in having feelings and whatever you decide to do (including doing nothing): hell yeah.

[moemammon]

Can I request the bros reacting to mc running up to them for a surprise hug? Fluff or crack works for me ahaha I hope you have a lovely day!

Think Fast! It's a Surprise Hug!

(Feat. The Demon Bros and GN!MC)

Lucifer

Who in the blazes is running down the hall-

Leaves his office ready to smite someone, when you suddenly crash into his torso and cling to him.

Takes him a minute to realize that you're hugging him on purpose, and not trying to play off running into him on accident

But did you really need to run down the hall for that?? Ngl it kinda strokes his ego to know you came rushing specifically to see him, but he'll never admit it.

"Running around the house just to hug me, MC? I'm flattered, but isn't there a quieter way for you to come to me? If you ask properly next time, I'll be glad to entertain you."

Mammon

You fool... Mammon can sense when you're coming to him!! There's no surprise here except YOUR surprise when he catches you!

He's so smug about it too, spinning you around with a wide grin on his face before he pulls you in.

And when he's done, he'll promptly pull back and fight off that impending feeling of embarrassment that's creeping up on him.

Of course you'd wanna hug THE Great Mammon. Who wouldn't?? Though he can't deny that he was a little surprised when you just leapt at him like that-

"Tryin' to catch me off guard, huh? I saw ya from a mile away, so it's impossible! Who can resist huggin' me?" "....S-So makes it's only ME you're huggin' like that, ya hear?!"

Levi

His lightning fast reflexes are no match for your sheer speed... or rather, his weak gamer body doesn't let him dodge you

Gets mowed down oop-

Can't even be mad at you though because he's so 😳❤️ about you ACTUALLY wanting to hug him

So while he's recovering from his new concussion, he's stammering and fidgeting while he tries to figure out where his hands should go

"M-M-MC!! You can't just come out of nowhere like that, you know?! A-At least give me a chance to prepare my heart!! I don't mind hugging you, s-so warn me next time!"

Satan

You surprise the hell out of him when you come sprinting down the hall and suddenly cling to his back

Was about to kick into fight or flight mode until he realized it was just you. Instantly softens up awwww

You make him laugh though, looking all disheveled and grinning at him triumphantly.

How dare you try to be more mischievous than he is. Don't you know HE'S the king of surprises?? 😤

"Did you really come running just to catch me off guard? I'll admit you surprised me, you cheeky thing. But you'd better watch out, because I plan to get revenge. Why don't we make this into a game?"

Asmo

HOE DONT DO IT

You know DAMN WELL you see he's holding a curling iron wAIT A SECOND PLEASE

But you don't wait, and Asmo has four seconds to quickly put the iron down or he risks burning the both of you.

His cheeks are all red and he's clearly annoyed, but he can't stay angry when you came all this way just to hug him. Who said you could be so cute??

"MC!! What would you have done if I singed my hair, hm?? Or worse, my gorgeous face! That's it... as punishment, you have to spend the entire evening with me! Now sit down, so I can get you ready~"

Beel

Beel hears you take your running start, and internally panics. MC wait pls, his arms are full of so much food plea-

Soft "oof" as he catches you in his arms, watching in dismay as all of his snacks go falling to the floor

When they ask you how you're doing and you have to say that you're fine, but you're not really fine-

Doesn't know if he's happy to be holding you in his arms, or distraught about the food gone to waste. But tbh we all know he's gonna eat it off the floor so-

"Did something good happen? You're pretty excited. If you came to tell me about the 'buy-one-get-one' special at McDevil's, I already know about it. But.. since I dropped it all, why don't we get some together?"

Belphie

Dodges-

Just kidding, Belphie knows there's a coffee table right there and doesn't want you smashing into it, so he's bracing himself for impact.

He doesn't open his arms for you, but lets you cling to him for a little while. Leans into it like the wee baby he is

Can't help but chuckle at you, despite trying his best to look like this is the biggest inconvenience in the world.

"Seriously, how can you always be so full of energy? Just looking at you makes me tired... so I hope you're okay with offering yourself up as my pillow. Don't move, okay?"

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

Hey I love your content. Would you be able to do a Derek Hale NSFW alphabet please?? Thank you. I love how you write his stuff

also:

pairing: derek hale x fem!reader

warnings: smut → NSFW alphabet

headcanon 🖤

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• ☾ ☼ ☽ •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

requests are open🖤

request guidelines✨

🌻masterlist🌻

smut night masterlist 💦

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

(i've written a headcanon on this)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

honestly i wanna say derek loves your hands

now hear me out

he loves having your arms wrapped around his back as your nails drags down his back

or when your hands reach out for him

or holding your hand while fucks into you

would love to tie them up but would secretly miss the feeling of them over his body while he pleased you

would also love when you pull his hair

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

fuck omg okay derek would get off on making you cum

that man would love when you cum - you'd be moaning his name, gripping the sheets, body shaking, pussy throbbing and pulsing

to make you cum while he fucked you and have you pussy pulsing around his cock

that would make him feel so good too

plus i think being able to make you cum would be such an ego boost too - like don't think that little shit wouldn't be cocky about it though hahah

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

oooh bitch okay so we all know how werewolves have increased senses

and so i feel like he'd use it to his advantage

he'd be able to hear the way your heart beats faster when you're getting closer to the brink of orgasm

or he'd be able to smell your arousal dripping off you and he'd use that to tease you - this could be by running his finger up your thigh, squeezing your ass

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i mean it's literally cannon that he's had experience before lmao

so that being said, derek would know how to please a woman

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

i think it's hard for him to really choose one specific position?

like he'd like lots of different positions tbh

but one might be when you're on your back and your ankles are on his shoulders while he fucks you

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

okay so i know derek is the most serious guy but that doesn't stop him from having fun during foreplay

or when he's being rough with you - when you giggle at teasing or him tickling you slightly, it comforts him bc he knows you're doing okay

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i dont really think he cares about that tbh

like i'd like to say he's groomed but idk

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

derek's not really into pda, so any alone time you guys get is when he loves to hold and kiss you

and so during sex i think he'd love to hold your hands or hold you close ya know

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

derek would get himself off when he knows you're not in the mood

he'd hate to be one of those partners that expects their significant other to get them off every time they were horny or have the view that just because they're together it means they have to do it all the time

we love a respectful king

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ugh would 100% begging and light bondage

to have you pleading for him to let you cum or to even touch him would drive him wild

would be such a dirty talker too oh my lord

would love when you're in charge

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his loft lol and that's it

his car if you're lucky

like i said, he's not that big on pda so i can't really imagine him fucking you in semi-public placs

but the rare exceptions would be if you were seriously misbehaving and teasing him lol

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

derek would love seeing you fight!!

seeing you destroy the monster would make him have that 'that's my girl' thought ya know

you'd be so focused and using the combat moves derek taught you

awh he'd also love you when you do little things for him

like make dinner or buy him something nice (like a shirt or something)

or even if you did the grocery shopping for him bc there's so little food in his loft omg

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i think derek is really good at knowing your limits which would result in you rarely having to use the safe word

so basically anything that would push you too far tbh

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

would be the king of pussy eating!

derek would never expect you to give him head (especially during the first few times)

but oh my he would die happily whenever you did

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

okay so i think when he eats you out, he'd be slow and really wanting to take his time with you - you've got all night so what's the rush?

but fucking you is a different story

he'd be rough - fast and hard and would love changing positions a lot too

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

these would be either for 1 of 2 reasons

1 - you're misbehaving so he fucks you hard in a public bathroom or even his car in the parking lot to each you a lesson

2 - when you look so damn good, especially if you two were going out for a group dinner or something that requires you to get al dressed up

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

both of you would be up for experimenting

but he would suggest going over ground rules of what you absolutely do not want to try so he knows not to suggest trying

i suppose he'd the type to try things in the moment too

like there'd be one time where he blindfolded you for the first time bc he just thought of it

you were okay with it, of course, but it's things like that that makes sex with derek really exciting

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

um okay but have you seem his normal stamina???

that man would go for hours and not get the least bit tired

derek would love to see you all fucked out and exhausted ahah

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i'd say he'd experiment with toys too

wouldn't be a fan of using them all the time (besides the obvious handcuffs and blindfolds lmao) but would still be up for it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he'd be such a bitch when he ate you out

would stop right before you're about to cum and ask how good it feels before going back to eating you out

that little break only causes a stronger orgasm for you which of course he knows - derek would be so smug about that too lol

would also perceive you in a nice dress (as mentioned before if you guys were going out to a nice dinner or something) as you teasing him

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not loud - i'd imagine low grunts and maybe a louder moan when he cums

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

derek hale is a switch

he would love the power balance between you both

he'd love to be the one to dominate you, but would 100% love when you do that to him

ahh omg and would secretly love when you tease the hell out of him

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i wanna say pretty big lol 👀

like i dont think we should be surprised lmao

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high but not ridiculous you know

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

sweetie would love to cuddle you afterwards and play with your hair

would also fall asleep by doing that too lmao

═══════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═══════

tag list: (click here to be apart of the tag list!)

@dylanobrienhehe // @jermaee // @boxofsteampunkplaces // @mollyknm // @greengarsstuff // @bailaycantaconmingo // @angelcbf //@daniellegreavess // @shrekaliciouz // @v3niceb1tchldr // @stellastyless // @jenniferrvsesi // @madaline1hatter // @bellabadacadabra // @mutlifandom // @babygirl-angel-love

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[jangofctts]

Are You in Or Out?

Rated: Explicit 

Word count: 11.5K yall I am SORRY

Warnings: good lord y'all here we GO-- smut, explicit language, violence and mentions of blood and gore, injuries, unprotected sex (don't be a dick, wrap that stick!), oral (m&f receiving), blindfolding, vaginal and anal fingering, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, spit is used as lube but for the love of GOD doNT DO THAT, there are some dom vibes on Paz’s end    

Summary: The job you’re on takes a turn for the worst--Paz comes to your rescue and you're brought to the Covert. There you meet Din Djarin. though during a good natured sparring session, you’re suddenly stuck between an age old rivalry that spirals out of hand. Hopefully an agreement can be met. 

a/n: hey...how y’all doin....SO lemme explain you smthn. I said helmets must be OfF--giv me them LIPS BABEY so this is a slight AU in which mandos can see other mandos’ faces. ya get me? I also tHot that it would be nice and fun to set the timeline 5-6 years BEFORE the plot of the Mandalorian so we gots a younger din here. anyway, as always enjoy and I hope you like!!

Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes—

Some as little as burning your finger on the nozzle of a smoking blaster or tripping over your own shoelaces. Simple things. Mindless things. 

Nothing that could ever compare to the catastrophic decision of picking up bounty hunting as a reliable source of income. 

The little ones were easy—tax evaders and deserters of the Empire—most who’d yield and gladly follow without complaint just at the sight of your blaster pointed between their eyes. And the gag of it is—most of the time you never bothered to load the damn thing. 

Reckless.

An invitation for disaster. 

But skirting that precarious edge, one little slip up away from plunging head first into inevitable trouble is better than Bracca. Stars—anything is better than Bracca. There’s no glory in bounty hunting but there’s even less in ship scrapping. Abysmal pay in exchange for risking your life on rain slicked metal with only the Ibdis Maw to break your fall.  

The guild you work for is considerate—scratch that. Greef Karga is considerate. Sure the flirting is a touch unbearable but it saves your ass in the long run. All easy money bounties set aside for you in exchange for a cheap drink, hollow laughs and sugar sweet smiles. 

It’s enough credits to get by—more than plenty to rent a room and charter a ship. 

But there’s only so many bounties to capture within the limits of the guild and oh so many people the empty blaster trick works on. And so the credits begin to thin; it gets too expensive to buy off a pilot and the debate over buying food or being able to pay for your room becomes more frequent than the scraprats that skitter inside the walls.  

It’s suicide to snag a higher paying bounty because....well—these bounties shoot back. 

Whatever.

 Might as well die trying. Who knows, maybe you could score big time if you manage to pull this off. 

Maybe. 

                                                       -=-=-=-

You’re not sure who’s more surprised—Karga when you asked for the bounty or yourself when he actually gave it to you. 

“Are you sure, kid? This could—“

“End in a fiery shitshow? Yeah—I figured that,” you sigh, swirling your drink with a little complimentary toothpick. “But I need the money.” 

“Hah! You’ve got guts, girl.” He flashes you a smile and smooths down his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. “Tell you what. The last assignment was just taken but I’m sure if you run you could catch him. Work somethin’ out.”

Jumping from your seat, you throw on your coat and toss a couple credits onto the table to cover the drink. “What’s he look like?” 

“Big fellow—Mandalorian. You’ll know when you see him.”

You shout your thanks over your shoulder and hightail outta there. The landing docks aren’t far, you can see them from here. It’s finding the guy that could pose a problem.

If he hasn’t already left, you bitterly think. 

However, it seems the universe is on your side today. Karga was right. He is big. Stands out like a sore thumb against his ship that glitters dully in the overcast sky. Kinda like an oversized blueberry. A yellow and blue blueberry….not important—

“Hey! Hey, you!” You’re so close, just a couple yards away. You swear and hurry up your pace as he steps onto the loading ramp. “Big guy! Large...blue man?”

You trip over your own feet as he turns his head. Fuck—

No way are you gonna be able to bargain with this guy. Built like a fucking AT-AT and probably just as stubborn. After all, no one would ever be dumb enough to come between a Mandalorian and their quarry. You grimace, and suck in a breath—

Before a word even leaves your mouth he interrupts with a steady, unwavering;

“No.”

Your brows furrow. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you were going to ask,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I work alone.”

Ok, then. You didn’t want to resort to begging, but you’re kinda running out of options here. You take a steadying breath and plant yourself at the bottom of the ramp. “C’mon man. Look—I’ll let you take seventy percent of the cut and I can—“

“You’ll let me?” He repeats, the staticky tone of his voice dropping into an edge more cutting than broken transparisteel. The metal platting on the ramp vibrates from the weight of his step to move closer; Stars it takes every fucking inch of willpower to hold your ground. “You’re lucky if I let you leave with your life. Get lost.” 

Fuckfuckfuck—you should listen. You wanna fucking run for the hills and never look back in case he comes looking to purge your name from the kriffing galaxy. You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. Too bad—you’ve dug your heels so far into this empire of dirt and false bravado that your only way out is continuing to poke the sleeping bear until he snaps your spine or caves.

You have to crane your neck to glare into that dark strip of his vizor, seeing as he’s invited himself into your personal space. “No.”  

“No?” He mocks, now toe to toe with your scuffed up boots. 

Your teeth clench, a scalding flush burning through your cheeks and all the way down to your chest. He’s toying with you—finding amusement in your stubbornness and apparent lack of braincells for challenging him. “You don’t scare me.” 

The man hums, a deep purr that rumbles through his entire ribcage as he raises his gloved hand. You curse yourself for flinching because surely he’s about to crush your skull like a fucking grape, but no. All he does is fix your rumbled collar then pat your cheek.     

“I don’t need the extra baggage.”

“I’m not baggage,” you sneer, slapping his hand away. “I can handle myself.” 

“With an empty blaster?” He points out, tipping his head to the side. “Your parlor tricks won’t do you any good on this job.”

“I’m a good shot!” You sputter, placing your hands over you hips and mustering up your best glare. “W-when I have ammo…” 

“Right.”

Meeting Paz Vizsla, could have gone far better, to put it into the most simplest of words. Jagged and hard to settle into a routine around each other for the journey to Nar Shaddaa in a tiny, old, and cramped freighter ship. Most cycles you have to wedge yourself beside a cargo crate to sleep. In addition to that, how it’s able to break through the atmosphere let alone fly is beyond you—an entire mystery on its own.       

At least you’re able to sit in the spare seat inside the cockpit—one of the only places available to stretch your legs. The only problem is that it’s also where Paz Vizsla likes to lurk (well, not lurk—it’s his ship and it’s where he can comfortably fit but—to each their own). 

There’s a net of tension still woven between you—each interaction like tiptoeing over eggshells. Though, like all things, it becomes simpler. There’s not exactly any ongoing conversations—you don’t want to pry into a life you know nothing about—it’s not your business despite the cumulation of questions that linger in the back of your mind. You know when to take a hint—not every person is willing to indulge you about their livelihood, and surely not something as secretive and well guarded as the Mandalore.  

Familiarity is what you want to call it. Comfortable with each other’s presence with small talk speckled in throughout the never-ending vastness of hyperspace. Compared to the infinite turmoil in your life, slippery footholds and uncertainty—Paz Vizsla is steady. In a way— predictable and safe in the confines of this ship.       

You’d even go as far as to label him kind, a friend maybe—if you look past the grumpiness and rather poor taste in corny jokes. You know it’s stupid, no doubt stemming from the deep ache of loneliness that comes hand in hand with staking it out on your own in the galaxy; but you can’t help but wish that this could be a new normal. Not some once in a lifetime thing where you both part ways, fade into the recesses of memory and leave it at that. 

If things go well—and rarely do they on a job—maybe you’d pluck up enough courage to ask him if you could stay. There’s no harm in it…right?

                                                 -=-=-=-

Well—the cynical part of you was right.

It did end up in a fiery shit show. 

Turns out the stupid quarry you’d been tracking excelled in long range weaponry. A former marksman for the Empire to be exact. Guess that tidbit of information wasn’t pertinent. A need to know sorta thing, if you will. 

You feel the molten bolt of plasma connect with your side before your ears pick up the sound of a weapon firing, like a crack of lighting in the empty alleyway. And before your body even connects with the duracrete, Paz is returning fire. A brilliant neon red against the hazy blur of shadowy buildings.  

Kinda weird how knocking the back of your head hurts worse than the literal blaster wound burned into your side. Shock maybe. Or the heat from the plasma cauterized each veins and artery it tore through and ate away at flesh and nerves. Hm…          

You’re sprawled in a wet pool of something—either your own blood or a puddle of stagnant gutter water and damn—you’re wearing your favorite shirt.

It doesn’t matter at this point…

You’re choking on your own air from the big ass hole blasted into your diaphragm, so to say things are looking grim is an understatement.  

Nar Shaddaa isn’t your first choice to kick the can on, but hey—not everyone gets the luxury of dying on Naboo. And just as you’re ready to slip away into that sweet, sweet abyss, it seems your fellow armored friend has other plans. 

The beskar is freezing against your cheek after he deadlifts you off the duracrete—you remember that plain as day. That and the hushed rumble of Paz’s voice insisting you save your dwindling supply of air instead of apologizing to him—or ordering you to stay alive for kriff’s sake. It’s impossible to argue with Paz—like trying to bite through durasteel, and while those beckoning tendrils of eternal slumber are mighty tempting, you cling to your life with all the strength you have left. After all, inconveniencing someone with a corpse is such a party foul to the highest degree.    

The rest is muddled—like dredging up silt and clay in a murky river that just leaves you with a pounding headache between your eyes. It’s a terrible mess of pain and bouts of temporary consciousness, mistaken with fever dreams and yup—more pain. The only consistent is Paz—hovering nearby or settled beside you—through thick and thin as you heal. 

There’s no solid reason your brain can conjure as to why he brought you to the Covert—it’d have been easier to just dump you at the nearest hospital and be done with it. You’re not his responsibility and you’re too afraid to ask what it means. Too many possibilities—too many answers you aren’t in the mood to face or untwist.     

And so you leave it be, set aside for another time—which brings you to the present day…        

You’re splayed over your little makeshift cot, feet propped up on a spare pillow as you scour through a cheesy Coruscanti gossip magazine. It’s years old—the only piece of entertainment you could find other than a weapon in the Covert. And seeing as a massive hole had been blasted through your ribcage, picking up the clever art of throwing vibroblades or shooting targets to pass the time was out of the question.   

Even if you’d rather fall into a Sarlaac pit than stare at the wall for hours on end yet again—it hasn’t been all that bad. It’d taken weeks before you regained enough strength to sit up on your own, let alone walk—and walking is putting it lightly. It was more of a stiff legged shuffle better suited on a two hundred year old woman seconds from disintegrating into dust at the mere hint of a breeze.  

Not to mention—your right lung was all but shredded. Ripped apart from the plasma bolt and miraculously reconstructed by a more than questionable bacta tank, hopeful thoughts and well wishes. To this very day you still sound like a broken air filter. 

Eh.    

Could be worse. 

At least you aren’t dead. 

Just another setback that adds on the growing pile of reasons why never to leave the Covert. Free food, free board and mild entertainment to top it off. Paz had stayed at your bedside for the most part while you recovered—stuck with babysitting your sorry ass until you regained a bit of mobility. The times Paz hadn’t been at your side to stave off the boredom, it was up to you to find your own fun. 

Snooping is what Paz had labeled it—but you saw it more as an adventure. You met Din Djarin exploring (lost is what you actually were) in the dimly lit underbelly of Nevarro, after all. Yes, you may have scared the ever loving shit out of the poor guy and yes, he may have singed off your brows with a five foot jet of fucking fire—but hey. No one got hurt.        

And you made a new friend. Sorta…Din is difficult to read, subtler in his soft spoken words and quiet demeanor. A bit like a skittish loth-cat at the start, but nowadays it’s not uncommon to find him lounging in the same space as you or hovering over your shoulder, awfully curious in whatever it is you choose to do. Like Paz, Din isn’t overly fond of sharing much information about himself but he never complains after you regale tales of your own vastly fascinating past. He seems interested enough—tilts his head a tick to the right when you speak to indicate that yes, he’s listening despite the unforgiving dark line of his visor.      

There are others in the Covert too—some so elusive you have a hard time believing they exist. Shadows of what they once were before the rise of the Empire. And so, you count yourself lucky that you’d been introduced to two others—Aeris Fenn, a young man nearly as tall as a Wookie, and a woman named Ives Arrey; her armor a flashy green—damn near florescent in the light. 

They’re nice enough company. Aeris is a chatterbox, his wit sharper than a blade but lacking in any forethought before he speaks. Ives is the far opposite—rolls each sentence in her mouth before she voices it, but in no way is she angelic. Maker—you’d bet your entire left asscheek she’s behind each bad decision and silly shenanigans Aeris sticks his nose into. He never learns—not after a harsh chiding or cuff around the helmet from Paz or the Armorer could dampen is childlike enthusiasm or steer him away from repeating the same mistake over and over.  

Though if you read one more kriffing sentence of this garbage magazine you’re about to invite chaos himself to entertain you. Good thing too because just as you sit up to find the red armored Mandalorian—Paz rounds the corner and steps into your little broom closet that hardly passes for a room. 

“Paz!” You greet, tossing the magazine over your shoulder. “Please tell me we’ll be doing something interesting or else I might start ripping my hair out. Or maybe commit a heinous crime—haven't decided yet.”      

Paz grunts and shakes his head. “You’ll be doing neither. But today we’ll be sparing—hopefully that will curve your boredom.”

You scrunch up your face. “Sparring? Er, no thanks—I choose life.” 

“You breathe funny since your injury,” he says, jabbing a finger between your ribs. “And all you’ve been doing lately is laying around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you sneer, tucking your arms over your chest. “Didn’t realize I was supposed to be running laps with half a lung.”

“It’s like stretching a muscle, you need to gain your strength back.” He retorts. “This will be good for you.” 

You groan and flop back into bed. “I don’t wanna. I was pretty much dead like three cycles ago—cut me some slack, man.”

There’s a brief silence as if he’s mulling over your words, but he’s stubborn. You crane your head to look at him as he says your name with a deep sigh attached to it.   

“Truthfully, I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.” He says it quietly, fragile even, like he’s still expecting you to tip over and die on the spot. You very well might.  

You huff. “Wow. Thanks, Paz.” 

You feel his heavy stare through the helmet. “What happened to you that night was a mistake. It wasn’t preventable but the least I can do is teach you basic selfdefense.”  

You gripe out your complaints but you know you’ve been beat—and well, a bit of your agreement is based on guilt. 

Damn it.  

                                                     -=-=-=-

It’s weird to see Paz without his heavy duty gear—like seeing him naked or a crab without a shell. The only piece he continues to wear is his helmet and padded gloves and under clothes, but it’s still weird. Strange enough that it shocks you tongue into remaining still instead of bitching about this. 

He leads you to a wing of the Covert you’ve yet to discover and ushers you through the doorway. The floor is padded, a bit smaller than you expected and already occupied by none other than Aeris Fenn. 

It’s a whole other kriffing shock to the head seeing him without the plates and layers of fabric and beskar too. The armor makes him bulkier—fuller and much more intimidating. Now, with only his black underclothes on, Aeris could be the spitting image of a sentient tree. Willowy limbs that stick out like branches as he stretches on the padded mat. He lazily swings his head around as you greet him, his face still covered by the black beskar painted with streaks of red. 

“So you choose sparring over knife throwing?” Aeris snorts. “And to think I thought of you as a friend.” 

“You think I chose to be here?” You say, grumpy and still upset at the choice of activity. Really, a brisk walk around the Covert would’ve been fine.

Aeris shrugs. “Ah, and I see you’ve roped in my favorite vod. Tch, he uses his fists instead of his words to teach. I wish you luck—you’ll need it.”      

You open your mouth to retort but Paz beats you to it. 

“Leave.” 

“I’ve just arrived, actually,” Aeris scoffs, folding his torso over his other leg to stretch. “Perhaps you could reschedule. After all—our guest is quite free most days.” 

Welp—you’re perfectly fine with that. Problem solved. 

You spin on your heel and make a break for it but Paz snatches your wrist and pulls you back to his side. “Aeris.”  

“Paz,” Aeris mocks, tipping his helmet to the side. 

Paz exhales, a long, tired sound and grovels out another plea in clipped Mando’a. Aeris languidly stands and brushes off imaginary dust from the front of his pants. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand your accent.” 

“Boy—“

“No, no, it’s alright.” Aeris sighs, waving his hand in a mopey display as if he were told that his birthday party were canceled for the fifth year in a row. “I’d have trouble speaking too if my enormously thick head were cooped up in that little bucket of yours all day.”  

You wince. 

In the time you’ve known Paz Vizsla, he’s never been one to launch into rash decisions fueled by anger—he lets it simmer and build like an oncoming storm over the ocean. Devastating once it reaches land.

Aeris bobs his head and inspects his black leather glove, picking at a loose thread on the inseam over the thumb. He clicks his tongue. “Or'dinii—you’re going to kill her.”  

Your offended scoff is ignored as Paz steps forward; jutting his chin up to even out the few inches Aeris holds over the man. “You still haven’t learned to shut your mouth, boy.” 

The tension surges and crackles like a volt of electricity through the air—unresolved and ready to ignite with the sparking embers of Paz’s growing irritation. It’s not a fight Aeris Fenn will win. He’s volatile and hotheaded—but his expertise is in long range weaponry. Precise, deadly and swift—not whatever this little pissing match is heading towards.    

Aeris clicks his tongue as Paz digs a fist into the black fabric of his shirt. Paz yanks him forward, the metallic clink of their helmets colliding an unpleasant scrape that pierces your eardrums. Aeris snarls out sharpened words in Mando’a as his willowy fingers shoot up to curl beneath the lip of Paz’s helmet. 

In the blink of an eye, Paz lifts Aeris up by his collar and launches him across the room like he weighs nothing more than a couple of down pillows. His helmet meets the wall with a resounding clank, chipping some of the red paint outlining the visor. Ouch. 

Like a kicked dog, Aeris clambers to his feet, still dazed and swaying and for a fearful second you think he’ll retaliate. But with whatever braincells he happens to possess today—he instead spits out a venomous curse that even yourself would hesitate to repeat. He leaves without another word, bristling with rage. 

Your flash Paz a questioning stare. “The hell was that about?” 

Paz waves it away with an irritated grunt. “His heart is in the right place but he is young. Aeris doesn’t understand his place in the Covert yet and I doubt he will for years to come.” 

You frown. “Poor guy…” 

Paz mutters something under his breath. “Enough distractions. We’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Y’know…I think that’s enough excitement for today. I think I’ll be going now—“ Your last ditch attempt at weaseling out of this is quickly thwarted the moment you turn your back.  

You wheeze as the heel of Paz’s palm shoves into your shoulder blade, the force of it sending you stumbling to the ground. “Paz—“

“Go on. Hit me,” he orders. You squeak, narrowly avoiding the well aimed kick that skims the top of your scalp. 

You scramble to your feet, skirting out of range of the oncoming right hook. “So you attack me instead?” 

“How do you expect to catch quarries who are bigger than you?” He presses. You hiss as the points of his knuckles dig into the meat of your shoulder. 

You dance out of reach and rub your arm, a dull throb flaring up in the muscle. “I dunno—electrocute them?”

“Not if they take you by surprise.” 

You screech as his knuckles skim your cheek. Adrenaline pierces you veins and you wildly throw a flaky punch that wouldn’t even impress a toddler. He catches your fist with ease, his entire hand dwarfing your clenched fingers. “You can do better than that.” 

You snarl and struggle to rip your hand back. “I’m a scrapper. I don’t fight.”

“No,” he retorts. You fall onto your ass as he abruptly lets go of your hand. “You’re a bounty hunter.” 

You roll your eyes. “Hardly—why can’t I just stay here?”

Although there’s nothing to see with that swatch of black covering his eyes, you can certainly feel the look he’s giving you. A deep sigh hisses through the vocoder. “You can stay here—“

A triumphant smile splits across your face—

“—but not without contributing where it’s due.”

You puff up your cheeks and let out a dismayed stream of air. “Booo—lame.”

He sighs again and helps you off the floor. “Even if you leave the Guild, what I’m teaching you is helpful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “I’ll give you a call after I use your invaluable skills to beat up some thug.”

Paz ignores your comment and turns on his heel. “Let’s go through it again. This time use your front two knuckles instead of your whole fist.”

As your eyes land over the stretch of tight fighting fabric over his back an idea pops into your head. It’s a petty move but getting a punch in is fruitless—like trying to beat up a brick wall. You don’t fancy a broken hand and your knuckles are already bruised and swollen to the point where it’s hard to bend them. 

And so, without any forethought and with a running head start, you launch yourself onto him, your arms coiling around his neck. It does the job—takes him by surprise and makes him tip to the right. 

Aha! Yes!

Your reign of victory is short lived, however—

He latches onto your forearms strung around his neck and yanks. And much in the same way he threw Aeris like a sack of potatoes—you’re no different. For a short stretch of time that feels kriffing endless; you soar through the air, your directional whereabouts violently ripped out beneath you and equally nauseating in the same breath. 

Why you ever agreed to this—you don’t know.   

Your shoulder blade connects with the mat first, leaving behind a dull sting as you roll and tumble with uncontrollable momentum. Oh, yeah—you’ll feel that in the morning. 

Groaning, you thank the Maker that your body eventually settles into a miserable little pile of limbs and pain. But, it seems whatever higher power that lingers in the edges of the galaxy hasn’t decided to put you out of your misery just yet. 

A bulky shadow blocks out the dim lighting overhead, and for a brief anxiety ridden moment you’re afraid it’s Paz. You roll onto your back with a pathetic groan, a beg for mercy on the tip of your tongue—but as your eyes flutter open they’re met with an entirely different man. 

Din Djarin looms over you, his head cocked to the side as you blink in dumbfounded bewilderment. Ah, hell— 

You swallow, a furious heat bitting at your cheeks. “Uh…fine weather we’re having…”

“We’re inside,” he states with a brief glance up to the ceiling. 

You purse your lips. “Huh.”

With a pensive hum he offers his hand, you sigh and roll over, accepting his gloved hand. He hoists you up easily and adjusts your rumpled collar. “You ok?”

“Pfft, yeah,” you groan, rubbing your throbbing shoulder. “Never better.”

The low grumble of your name is a cross between disbelief and irritation. Din jerks his head, his attention zeroing in on Paz. “Are you trying to kill her?” 

“She isn’t made of glass.” 

“She is still recovering—“

Normally you’d intervene, but their bickering is tiring and it gives you the excuse to lie down. By the time one of them caves you’ve counted exactly one hundred and twelve weird ceiling stains. They should get that checked out.  

“Very well,” Paz snarls, cutting through your wandering thoughts. “You teach her.” 

Din scoffs, his shoulders drawn tight as he stomps over to your splayed out self. “Get up.”

“Geez, fine,” you grumble, not in the mood to test his patience further. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Later he’ll no doubt apologize but right now? He has to prove a point. Din cuts right to it, moves in close to place your clenched fists in the right stance and nudges at your feet until they’re a bit wider than hip distance. 

“You have to get in close with a bigger opponent,” he says, stepping into your space until your fists are close enough to touch his chest. “We don’t have much range here—easier to break our guard too.” 

“Right. And how would you suggest I do that?”

“You’re always beating me at cards.” Din says, tipping his head to the side. “You have a clever mind. Use it.” 

“But I always cheat.” You point out, dropping your guard to swat at a stray hair.   

He catches your wrists and returns them to where they ought to be. “Quick enough to get away with it.” 

You make a noise of uncertainty but do as you're told. Din takes a couple steps back and with a rough order you begin. 

He’s faster than Paz—bats at your guard in quick bursts and steps away when you attempt to hit back. It’s a dance almost—somehow elegant in its brutality of bruises and flashes of pain as you move around one another. Compared to Din, Paz is almost clumsy but unpredictable. Din—despite the rapidness of his attacks and evasiveness, becomes predictable.

He steps to to left—you follow. He rocks onto his toes to jab his fist forward and that’s where you find a break. Punching Din’s helmet won’t do you any good but catching the juncture of his shoulder with your elbow is completely feasible. Too bad that you’re not the only one with a clever mind.        

Din uses the momentum of your attack to catapult you to the ground—his own body rolling with you in order to capture you in a headlock of sorts. This sucks. After this you’ll never be setting foot in this Maker forsaken room again. 

Din tightens his elbow that’s looped around your throat as you squirm and flail, trapped against his chest. He grunts as your elbow digs into his ribs but holds steady and snakes his free arm across your front, pinning your limbs to your body in an unbreakable vice. All mobility is cut off as his knee pushes between your thighs, locking your leg out into an uncomfortable and frankly quite awkward angle. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, you arch as the crown of his helmet skims along the curve of your throat; the bite of beskar frigid and startling against your flushed skin. You can see his visor out of the corner of your eye; glittering and dark like the polished obsidian on Black Spire and endless like the greedy maw of a black hole. 

Your breath hitches as he shifts and curls his head closer to your ear. His voice rumbles low and deep through his chest and vibrates against the delicate cartilage. “Yield.” 

However much your pride wrestles with the sensible part of your brain, it’s all for naught as you jerk your head in defeat.  

In retrospect you should’ve said something—used your voice or made some kinda sound because suddenly Din’s forearm digs alarmingly hard into your windpipe. He read the stuttered jerk of your head as another pitiful act of defiance but no. Nope. 

Here you are—asphyxiating.   

Not exactly what you had in mind, being strangled by a Mandalorian and all—but a chokehold where you could very well die was not it. 

Fuzzy darkness begins to shade the corners of your vision, lightheadedness and a curious warmth that prickles down your spine settling low in your belly. A raspy gasp manages to slip through your blocked off airway, and stars why does this feel good?   

“Din—”

Paz’s sharp bark is distant above the ringing in your ears and it all stops.

You gulp in air that burns your throat like refined fire whiskey—hunched over the mat as a large palm rubs soothing circles over your upper back. You cough and roll over, sounding like a dying animal run over by a speeder then hit with a spiked club to polish it off. 

You’re quickly herded into Paz’s arms and pulled into his lap. Still wheezing and attempting to recover lost oxygen, whatever Din is trying to say translates into an indiscernible hum against the ringing in your ears.  

“I’m fine,” you mutter, though neither of them care to listen. Like bristling wolves, snapping at each other’s heels.  

“Apologize to her,” there’s not so much as a centimeter of room to argue. “Now.”           

It’s nice of Paz you suppose—defending your honor and what not, but you’re not a vengeful person. It was an honest mistake and you want to explain that so Din quits looking like a kicked puppy, yet the sudden touch over your ankle stops you. All the times Din has initiated contact it’d been a friendly pat to your shoulder or ruffling you hair, and while touching your ankle isn’t exactly scandalous it’s certainly an odd place to put your hand on. 

Your fingers clutch Paz’s shirt as you eye the man lingering at the bottom of your feet, his gloved thumb unconsciously rubbing patterns into the exposed skin between your boot and your pant leg. “Cyare—I’m sorry.” 

You blink and lick your lips. Interesting. “I-I don’t know what that word means.”

His hand inches higher, resting on the swell of your calf. “Sweetheart…darling…loved one—“ 

There’s a shift—a dark undercurrent that none of you should be dipping your toes into. There’s a million and one things to say or do to sever this at the root, but are you going to? Nah. 

Din’s thumb now rests over your knee, goosebumps following in his wake. “Should I keep going?” 

It too hot—stuffy with both of their heavy stares locked on your flushed face. You squirm and glance up at Paz who only offers an impassive stare. Great.   

“I can make it up to you,” Din continues, his hand stationary—a warm weight even through the fabric of your pants. “If you let me.” 

Your mouth feels drier than the desert on Jakku. This…nothing good could come out of what Din is hinting at. This is uncharted territory—launching yourself into the great unknown without any idea of what’ll fester and grow if you agree. 

It’s not like it hasn’t crossed your mind—it’s just…it’s never been both of them at the same time. These men are short-tempered, an open flame to jet fuel with deeply seated ire woven into the very fabric of their beings. You’ve barely scratched the surface on the inner workings of their mutual hostility, but you’re bright enough to question if this will make it worse. Tinder and brittle twigs feeding and enabling the hungry flames of rivalry to spiral and consume with chaotic brilliance of a dying star—

But, oh—

Isn’t it worth taking the risk? 

You suck in a grounding breath and slowly extend your leg that Din touches, gingerly skimming the toe of your shoe along the inseam of his inner thigh. “H-how would you…make it up to me?”

Din preens at your answer and shuffles closer, lifting your legs so that they rest in his lap. Devotion drips off his words like a fine liquor as he toys with the laces on your boots. “Anything—say it and it’s yours.”    

Sparks of molten heat race down your spine and metastasize in your lower belly, spreading through each vein and artery like a some sort of invasive ivy. You spare a look up at Paz as he shifts.      

“Go ahead, girl,” Paz assures. “Answer him.” 

It’s an unspoken, buzzing sort of thing like the static air before a storm, crackling and surging with pent up energy. You all know the implications of what’s to come—but it’s your words, quiet and steady that irons that nail into your coffin.

“Take me like you mean it.” 

The next few moments pass in a dizzying blur, a mess of anticipation as your shoes are yanked off, your pants following soon after and tossed into some unknown corner of the room. Paz helps you out of your shirt, a shiver wracking through your body from the chill, leaving you bare save for your underthings. Yet the warmth that seeps through his shirt and his hands that linger over your ribcage do a lovely job at making up for the cold.

Din shuffles closer and brings his fingers up to cup the side of your face, lowering his head to rest the crown of his helmet on your forehead. “Wanna touch you.” 

Your breath hitches as Paz’s hands sweep up your torso, cupping and kneading your breasts. “Y-you already are touching me, Din." 

Paz snorts as the rough leather of his gloves scrape over your skin and unhook your bindings. You hardly hear Din over your own whine as Paz rolls your hardened nipples between a forefinger and thumb. 

“I want to feel you—without the gloves,” Din clarifies, fighting to keep your attention on him. “Will you let me?”  

Maker that shouldn’t even be a question. You moan out your approval, delighted that both of them decide to slip off the padded fabric. Din touches your bare thigh the same moment Paz returns his hands to your tits and it’s exhilarating. The rasp of their bare palms against your flesh is addicting—something so foreign and warm compared to their usual armor and thick layered clothing. 

You arch into Paz’s hand as it curls around the base of your throat, a tentative pressure but still heavy. “You’d let us do anything, wouldn’t you? Needy little thing.”

“Yes,” you croak, already debauched and falling apart at the seams. “Anything.”

You’re all too happy to fade away in the embrace of the larger man but the other participant is far from letting that slide. Din grabs your hand, guiding it towards the front of his trousers, the drawstrings already loose and easy to pull aside. He groans and twitches as your fingertips flirt along his navel, then curl over the waistband, tugging his pants the rest of the way down to pool around his knees. 

You reach for the already impressive outline of his cock pressing against his boxers, but Paz cupping your cunt through your underwear just before you touch Din is distracting. You gasp and arch as Paz digs the heel of his palm against your clit, electrifying ecstasy zipping down your spine with each touch. 

There’s a twinge of guilt after Din huffs and drags your limp wrist back to his cock, this time encouraging you to palm him by guiding your actions with his own hand until you lazily oblige. Din’s quiet grunts, gravely against the vocoder do nothing but throw more jet fuel to the fire inside your belly. The growing urge to actually touch him gnaws and corrodes the forefront of your brain. With a firm yank his boxers are quick to join his trousers and Maker—

Fuck—

Will he even fit?

Din is thick, rosy brown and flushed at the tip and beginning to curl towards his bellybutton. A bead of liquid shines at the tip, dribbling down the underside as he wraps his fist around the base of his length. He gives himself a languid stroke before he, once again, reminds your hand of what it’s supposed to be doing. Din is searing in your palm, molten and stiffening to hardened steel in your grip.   

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” Din hisses as his head rolls back onto his shoulders. “S-so pretty holding my cock.”

Your desperation tears at your insides, insatiable and Maker— you wanna taste him. You want to hear every little stuttered moan and feel each twitch of his hips as he claims your mouth as his own.    

But before you’re able to ask Din if he’d be willing to fuck your throat, Paz grips your knee and slings your leg over his thigh, murmuring praise as he peels off your underwear. Paz’s hand snakes down to your pussy and runs two thick fingers through your already slick cunt, then delicately parts your folds. 

It’s like a fucking bomb going off as his thumb grazes over your swollen clit. His forearm locks tight around your waist, keeping you in place as you arch and tremble. Paz is feather light and teasing, as he strokes over the little bundle of nerves in a painstakingly slow rhythm. 

“Paz—“ 

He nudges your cheek with his helmet and chuckles. “You’re so sensitive, vaar’ika. Such lovely noises too.”  

Paz trades in his light touches for using his two fingers instead. They form a relaxed ‘v’ shape, trapping your clit in between the digits as he massages in a steady up and down motion. You cry out, every nerve shocked and flooded with saccharine pleasure, shoving you so treacherously close to that precarious edge of release.      

You have no fucking chance as a different set of fingers, leaner in length but just as bulky, carefully prod at your entrance. Din’s pointer finger slides into your cunt, quickly adding a second as your core clenches and stretches for him. The dual sensations over your clit and Din’s fingers steadily pumping and curling inside you send you hurling into that dazzling white-hot pleasure.     

Throwing your head back, you cry out—a jumbled mess of their names or just nonsense— pleasure crackling out from your core and all the way down your legs. Your cunt tightens like a vice around Din’s digits, your legs twitching as your high dips into prickly overstimulation. You whine, and swat at Paz’s hand, Din pulling out his own fingers a moment later and wiping your wetness on the inside of your thigh. 

Your head rests in the crook of Paz’s shoulder as your breath fans across the side of his helmet, fogging up the metal where the blue paint is chipped and scraped away. The shirt he wears smells a bit like sweat but the underlying scent of him is comforting—worn leather and something crisp, like fresh laundry. You don’t mean for the words to slip out—

You know better than that, but everything feels muddled and silly and, and, and—

“I wish I could kiss you.”  

It’s like dousing ice cold water on a pile of smoldering coals. A silence, petrifying and like the inhale before jumping off a cliff and into a rocky sea, ensues. Stupid, stupid, stupid—  

Paz shatters the fragile suspense with a rich laugh that burns away all the icy worry making itself a home in your ribcage. He moves his arm up, his fingers gripping your jaw to fix your gaze onto the other Mandalorian. “You want his mouth on you too?”  

You whimper and nod, but it isn’t enough. 

“Use your voice vaar’ika,” Paz hums, pressing the crown of his helmet against your cheek. “Tell us want you want.” 

“I-fuck—” Paz’s fingertips sneak up your torso, rough callous catching deliciously on your skin. “I wan’t your mouth on me. B-both of you.” 

Paz chuckles and releases his hold on your chin. “You’ll have to be blindfolded, sweet girl.”

Din scoffs, a harsh crackle through the vocoder. “Like she’d want to see your face anyway.”

“Please,” you mewl, turning your head to curl into Paz’s neck. It’s not ideal, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make. “I don’t care. I need—“

“Patience, little one,” Paz purrs, rubbing up and down your bare sides in a soothing manner. All it does is stoke the flames. “You’ll get what you want.” 

Paz shifts, reaching for your abandoned shirt and stars—

You can feel his cock, firmer then tempered durasteel and poking into your lower back. Oh, hell—these men are going to ruin you. 

You’re nudged forward, your vision going dark once your shirt is securely tied around your head. The knot traps a few hairs that pull sharp against your scalp but the measly pain is worth it. Oh so worth it.  

“Is it too tight?” You hear Din ask, concern lacing his gravely vocals. 

You wave your hand in dismissal. “S’fine.”

“Cant see anything either, right?” 

You squirm, your patience spreading thin. “Din, please.”

“Fine.” There’s no bite to his tone and under different circumstances you’d have more composure. Acknowledge that they’re putting their religion, their whole being into your hands—a fragile trust that could so easily be shattered. 

Your ears pick up their subtle movements, their helmets landing onto the thin mat with soft thunks. With bated breath you wait for them to jump into action, seize every spare moment to taste your skin and breathe the same air. But—

“You need a haircut, vod.”

“And you need to shave.” Retorts Din with bitter indignation. 

“It’s hardly even stubble.” He chortles. You giggle and twist away as he scrapes his prickly cheek up and down your neck. “Besides—she likes it.” 

There’s another lull, and with the blindfold everything is amplified—the quick and quiet breathing of Din on your right and the slide of fabric against skin as Paz shifts. Your attention is captured by Din’s bare palm, warm and calloused like weathered leather left out in the afternoon sun. He caresses the outside of your thigh in smooth, longing strokes, enraptured by the softness of your skin. You whimper and let your leg fall open, exposing more of your thigh for his curious exploration. 

The sudden touch on your cheek is jarring. You know Paz is there—it’s not an easy thing to forget the solid chest you’re leaning against but it’s hard to focus. Difficult to settle on one thought before it slips away like grains of sand between a clenched fist. Paz’s touch is heavier than Din’s, ambitious and greedy but…mindful. Even as his fingers spread along your jaw and drag you into a deep, mouthwatering kiss. It’s…stars—   

There’s nothing that can describe this. No word that could ever hold a candle up to the way his lips, plush and soft, move against yours. His nose brushes against your cheek as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, his warm tongue sliding against the seam of your bottom lip. 

You whine and bury your hand into his hair as Paz groans, a low rumble in his throat. You wonder what color it is, but carding your fingers through the curls atop his head suffices for now.

Your curiosity is abruptly ended as Din’s hand snakes around your forearm. You’re forcibly yanked away, only to be met with another pair of lips. Din murmurs an apology at the sting of his teeth bumping into your upper lip, but the pain is hardly the first thing on your mind. 

Din’s kiss is devouring—  

Scalding and bright—the galaxy, a thousand suns, all there ever will be and all that ever was. The way his lips move against yours is a devastatingly sharp contrast to the steady, syrupy sweet kiss Paz offers. Desperate and eager to surround you in his own arms—steal away any lingering thought and replace it with him. Din Djarin—  

You gasp as Din’s teeth nibble and pull on your bottom lip, only a moment before he surges closer, wrapping his hand around your jaw to hold it open as he licks deep into your mouth. Breaking for air, Din tangles his fingers into your hair at the base of your neck and yanks, baring the column of your throat. His travels down, the tender kisses morphing into teasing nips and lingering sucks that’ll turn into tender bruises in the morning. 

Din hovers over your breasts, his heated breath and cooling saliva the catalyst to the goosebumps that rush over your skin. He lightly tugs on your nipple using his teeth, then plants a sweet kiss over your sternum.   

“Can I taste you?” Din murmurs, his lips ghosting over your flesh. “Maker—wanna put my mouth on you.” 

“Din—“ A different set of lips latching onto the juncture of your neck and hijacks your train of thought. Wipes your mind clean until Paz is the sole thing you can consciously focus on. 

Paz laves his tongue over the shell of your ear and urges you to lean back against him once more. Your nose scrapes against his stubble as you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his hips lazily rolling his hardened cock into your backside. 

“Or…” Paz rumbles, capturing your hand and interlacing your fingers with his. You marvel at the sheer size of his palm—astounded still when he leads his and your hands to palm his cock. “I could give you this. Fuck your pretty little cunt until you’re screaming for me.”

It’s a punch to the gut. Why the fuck do you have to choose? You squirm as Din points his tongue over your nipple then sucks it into his mouth. 

Working through the fog in your head, the answer is clearer than fucking crystal. Because who in their right mind would turn down a Mandalorian’s request to eat you out? Not you, that’s for sure. “Din—want your mouth.”

Din huffs in triumph and slips between your legs that part to accommodate his broad shoulders, leaving no patch of bare skin untouched and worshiped. You shiver as his tongue circles around your bellybutton then retreats. Din settles his head beside your knee and mouths a kiss there.  

You whine his name and buck your hips, heart beating wildly in your ears. The teasing is unbearable and, stars—if he doesn’t start now— 

He nibbles on the inside of your thigh, laving his warm tongue over each mark he leaves behind, buffering the sting of his teeth. Din snake his hands under your ass, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he heaves your cunt closer to his mouth. Din’s thumbs part your soaking pussy, his breath hot fanning over your cunt. His tongue his scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your slit all the way up to your clit. 

Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through you. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—fuck. Fuck, you need more.   

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are obliterated; nothing but the warmth of his tongue, and his lips, devouring you as if he were a man seconds from death and you’re his saving grace. That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade into smoke—but you’re not going anywhere. Not even a million credits could convince you to push Din’s head away. 

He sinks two fingers into your clenching hole and curls his fingers, stroking and curling his fingertips to make you sing. Zeros in on that little spot that causes the involuntary twitches of your leg and wrenches embarrassing, high pitched mewls that fill the room. You’re careening towards your high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure. 

“Shit—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must hurt. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth. 

Your release unfurls through your body like sticky molasses—smoldering embers that seep into each limb until they’re heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to think and at this rate your brain is as good as gone.   

You pay only a fraction of attention to Din as he kisses his way back up your body and lands a final one over your lips. His thumb grazes over your chin, his gravelly words of praise cutting through some of that foggy haze, how good you were, how fucking delicious you tasted when you came on his tongue. You taste your own arousal on his mouth as he noses your cheek and captures your lips in another kiss.           

“Are you done?” Paz asks dryly, much too barbed to be thrown your way. You groan when Paz jostles your limp body as he hoists you back into his lap.

“Just starting, actually,” Din quips. “Why don’t you hand her back over? I’ve got some more things I wanna try.” 

Paz scoffs and secures a heavy arm around your middle. “Greed will get you nowhere.” 

“Neither will your arrogance.” 

“Shut up—both of you,” you interrupt. Your voice is raw and choppy but it does the job. “Just fuck me already.”

For now their little spat is sidelined—it’s not worth ripping off that bandage of a temporary truce. There’s a chaste moment of quiet, like they’re considering tearing into each other’s throats instead, but with a touch to Paz’s thigh the standoff fizzles out. 

“We need to work on your manners,” Paz suggests, curling his large, calloused hand around your neck in a loose hold. “I believe it’s please fuck me.” 

Maybe if you weren’t practically a pile of brainless goo, you’d argue. See how far you can push—though this time you fold. “Please fuck me. P-please—I need it.” 

Seemingly satisfied with your answer; Paz wedges a hand between your bodies to grip his cock and run the tip through your folds, soaked from you own wetness and Din’s saliva. The head of his member nudges at your entrance, and wether it’s his size or the fact you can’t see anything—you panic. 

Your hand shoots out, nails harpooning into the meat of his forearm. “W-wait—you’re too b-big.”  

Paz freezes and moves you up his lap and presses a kiss over you hairline. “We can stop. Just say—“

“N-no, I’m fine,” you assure, planting an apologetic peck on his stubbled jaw. Stopping is the last thing you want to do—it was just…overwhelming. A sensory overload testing the very fringes of your being. “Go slow?”

You feel his head bob in compliance as he moves you back to where you’re hovering over his cock. You relax this time, not as many alarm bells clanging through your head as your cunt flutters around the fat tip and then that glorious, first thick inch. Paz’s thumb bumps over your throbbing clit, coaxing your pussy to take him further. 

“Yeah, that’s it vaar’ika,” he grunts, his breath fanning over your neck in quick pants. “Taking my cock so fucking well. So nice and pretty.”

Your pussy flutters, fresh waves of arousal hot and burning.You nearly keel over when Paz starts shallowly rocking his hips, easing your body the rest of the way down his length until the back of your thighs touch his. Maker—how the hell is he all the way inside? You can feel him in your fucking guts—         

“See?” Paz purrs. He sucks a bruise into the meat of your shoulder and pushes his palm against your lower stomach, making the fit even tighter. “Fits fucking perfect.”

The noise your cunt makes pulling out and the debauched moan that filters through his vocal chords is obscene. If anyone where to walk by, well—it’s certainly not training that’s going on, for the better lack of words. 

Paz holds true to his word—keeps his pace limited to deep, languid thrusts that brush up against something that makes your whole body shake—like strumming a golden chord molded to a musician’s fingers. Fuck—he’s doing all the work too. Lifting you by the swell of your hips and pulling you down onto his cock with a rough buck of his hips. 

Abruptly, he slows to a gentle rocking—quick to lock you in place as you thrash and roll your hips. “Paz—n-no. Keep going. You n-need to—“

Paz silences your please with a wet, open mouthed kiss. “Our friend looks lonely. Why don’t you use that pretty mouth and suck his cock?” 

Din. 

You hear the man curse in Mando’a, probably some stab at Paz—

But with a pat to your outer thigh, you don’t need any more prompting—you’d give up your left hand to get a chance to suck him off. With the help of Paz, you’re eased onto your hands and knees, shocks of white-hot pleasure zipping through your core at the change of angle. Like this Paz is seated deeper inside, stabbing into each spot that makes you sing.    

Fuck—your arms are shaking—only able to hold yourself up for half a click and then you’re sinking face first into the floor, ass in the air as he fucks into you. Paz clicks his tongue and wraps his arm around your front, pulling you back up from your slumped position. 

“I told you to suck his cock, girl. Not take a nap.” Paz accentuates his words with heavy, well measured thrusts—the kind of force you know will leave your whole lower half throbbing and sore in the aftermath. 

You whine as Paz grabs a hold of your jaw, digging into the tender joints until your mouth falls open. “Good. Keep it like that.” 

Paz’s hand falls away, replaced by a softer touch. The pads of Din’s fingers hook under your chin, guiding and tempting you nearer to what rests between his legs, hot and heavy and large.       

You feel the tip of his cock, flushed and pulsing, rest on your bottom lip. You lap up the beads of sticky precum with kitten licks that morph into suckling the entire head. Din grunts out your name and tangles his hand into your hair as you tongue at the ridged frenulum. He never forces you to swallow down more of him—lets you cradle the first few inches in the wet warmth of your mouth and languidly roll the pad of your tongue around him. 

You want to take him deeper, let Din fuck your throat raw, but your jaw already aches. Your lips are pulled tight around his shaft, drool dribbling down your chin and landing on the mat below. You’re not sure if you could take more of him without the danger of your teeth catching or dislocating your jaw. So you manage like this—hollowing out your cheeks and and using the momentum of Paz’s thrusts to pleasure Din.          

It’s frustrating—it must be each time you let his cock slip out of your mouth to breathe or the fact Din isn’t able to fucking fit his cock into your mouth. Annoying that you aren’t able to think properly to help him out a bit ore when that said brain is being fucked straight outta you, put through the wringer and then body slammed onto duracrete. 

Din cups your cheek, strokes over your skin with his thumb and maneuvers himself out of your mouth. You whine and lean into his palm, his touch addictive like smoldering coals in the dead of winter.    

“You want me there instead of him?” Din purrs, using the tips of his index and middle fingers to tilt your chin and drag you into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck you like you deserve.” 

The profane imagery of Din between your legs instead makes you clench tight. It only takes a couple seconds and a few more feverish kisses before you’re nodding to his request. Paz mutters a swear, hesitates, and reluctantly pulls out, leaving your cunt empty and aching with need. 

Din, however, is speedy—quick to hoard you to himself and yank your legs over his hips so that you’re draped on his lap. He jumps straight to the point, no fancy maneuver or drawn out teasing—just grabs the base of his cock, slides the flushed tip between your folds and sinks into your cunt. Even after your pussy had been stretched and molded around Paz’s length, you struggle to take Din’s entire cock into your aching center. It’s easier than Paz but, Maker—not by much. 

You whine, harpooning your fingernails into his shoulder once he bottoms out. Din snarls a curse and latches his teeth onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder, prickly pain shooting directly to your belly. “Fucking tight. H-how—fuck.”

There’s no time to adjust before Din sets a pace, harsh and desperate—his hands digging into the flesh of your ass for better leverage. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end before it could be yanked out from under him. Din’s staggered exhales below your ear are interlaced with subdued moans that start low in his ribcage then dip into a higher, airy pitch. A delicate sound you’ll guard closer to your chest than any secret you possess for the rest of your life—precious and yours. 

Din turns his head to steal a kiss. “You feel fuck—fucking good. Wanna feel you cum around me. S-squeezed so fucking hard around my fingers—“

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Heat sizzles down each vertebrae in your spine, burning up each and every cell with the brilliance of a wildfire. Stars, this is gonna destroy you.      

Din’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s no build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of blistering warmth that knocks you off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs. Your nails dig into Din’s back as you shake and grapple for a foothold in your own consciousness—the steady warmth of his body a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.  

“Good girl,” Din praises, pace faltering from just how tight your pussy squeezes and flutters around his cock. “S-such a fucking good girl for me.”     

Regaining some semblance of control, you realize he’s still fucking going—still rock solid and throbbing, fucking you through the aftershocks of your release. Your arousal turns sharp, like rough cotton over a fresh sunburn as it dips into overstimulation. It’s not unpleasant but Din has to slow his hips to a delicate roll for you to recover.            

In the time it takes to inhale, a different calloused hand kneads into your lower back then smoothes up your spine. A second later you feel the scrape of Paz’s stubble prick along your exposed shoulder as his tongue drags along your sweat dampened skin—all the way up the curve of your neck and ending at the shell of your ear. 

You’re not sure if it’s intentional, but as Paz crowds closer the tip of his cock pokes at your other hole. With a surprised mewl, you tense and shy away—but he follows, molds his chest against your back to sandwhich you in. The hand gripping your bicep jumps to your neck and pulls your head against his shoulder. 

Two of Paz’s fingers dip down the curve of your ass and brush along the puckered skin—far less jarring this time. “Do you want to be fucked here too?” 

Maker—

You’re gonna fucking explode.  

Stuffed to the brim already, it’s hard to imagine Paz cramming himself in along with Din. A little red light blares in some corner of your mind but it’s quickly soothed as Paz plants soft kisses over your cheek and jaw. You trust him—there’s no reason to think he’ll hurt you or push you to the point of pain.

You catch his mouth with a kiss and rock your hips back. “Y-yeah, ok. I trust you.” 

You feel his smile curl against your cheek. “Don’t worry vaar’ika—I’ll take care of you.”

Paz strokes your bottom lip with his thumb and kisses the crown of your hairline as you sink into him. With his ring and middle finger, he pushes past the seam of your lips. “Suck.”

You obey, sealing your lips around his two digits and coating them in your saliva. Paz pulls them out with a pop and moves them between your legs, and with the added wetness dripping from your cunt, the first finger is easy enough. The second and third have you gasping as he scissors them and stretches your tight hole wider. You claw your nails into Din’s shirt—and he’s no better—Din’s own hands are clamping around your hips, struggling to keep still and biting back moans each time your cunt constricts. 

Your hips begins to meet the thrusts of Paz’s fingers as your body familiarizes the feel of him there. It’s a deep thrill that rushes up through your spinal cord—much different from anything you’ve felt before. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Paz goads, chuckling when you whine as he extracts his fingers. “I think you’re ready to take my cock, yeah?”

You shudder and nod, your voice no more than a squeak as it pilfers out. Paz strokes the top of your head and tips you forward into Din’s eager arms as Paz slicks up his length in a mix of precum and your dripping arousal. He touches the swell of you ass in warning, lines himself up with your hole and wedges the tip of his cock inside of you.     

Involuntary tears dampen your makeshift blindfold as Paz buries himself deeper, his rumbling tone urging you to relax—relax even though your mind is drowning in an ocean of arousal and swirling emotions you have no hope to pin down and analyze. It’s for the best—thankful as Paz bottoms out that it wrenches you back to a feasible reality you’re able to manage.

“Shit—I-I’m gonna die—“ You sob, writhing at just how full you are. But there’s nowhere to fucking go—     

“Easy,” Din breathes, and you wonder if he’s said it to keep his own head on his shoulders. “Easy.”

Din’s gravelly rasp cuts through the fog in your head, and stars—you sound like you’re fucking dying. Your wheezy breaths and lightheadedness would certainly suggest that—but no…no, you’re fine. Better than fine.     

A rush so acute and devastating launches up your spine as Din’s patience cracks. He experimentally rolls his hips and that’s the end of it. You’re swallowed up in that riptide you fought so hard to avoid—fuck. You won’t be the same after this. How can you?  

You can feel them both, separated by a thin wall as they sprint towards their own highs. You’re never once left empty—Din reaches the end of you as Paz pulls out and while there’s not exactly any finesse involves it’s the best fucking thing you’ve felt in your entire life. There’s no bickering—no teasing and you’re struck with an idea that makes you clench tight around both of them. You wouldn’t mind if this was the way they decided to settle scores or finally see eye to eye.   

This time you can’t discern your high—just a constant overflow of ecstasy and dazzling arousal like an imploding supernova. You cry their names—sob and shake in their hold with such fervor that Paz traps you tighter between them to keep you still.  

“Fuck—you get so fucking tight,” Paz growls, blunt nails digging into your hips. “And so fucking wet.”

His fingers touch the inside of your thigh and stars—he’s right. “I get to fuck your cunt next time—see how much you’ll drip for me.” 

Even if the blindfold were off—there’d be nothing to see but a white wash of nothing. Blinded by pleasure and bursting at the seems. 

Jealous, Din steals your breath away with a kiss, licking and nipping at your swollen lips until you whine his name. His jagged pants fan across your chin—chapped lips and patchy facial hair tickling across your bottom lip as you breath the same air. 

Din whispers your name like a prayer, his fingers clutching tight around your thighs as his pace starts to flounder to choppy jerks. “Shit. I-I’m close—“

Your fingers twist into his hair. “Yeah—ok baby. Let go.”

Din’s teeth sink into the base of your throat and cums. His seed coats your insides—hot and copious and fucking shit—if there’s a next time you want him to cum in your mouth.      

You don’t get time to relish Din’s stuttered gasps of your name, laced with praise and a show of a tender and bleeding heart before Paz is gathering up your hair in a tight fist and jerking your head up. “You—you want me to cum too? Say it.” 

Without a breath of hesitation you beg for it, cry and arch into him. It does the trick—

Paz is loud—shouts a thunderous roar and buries his cock deep into your hole. Din is still recovering from the aftershocks of his release when Paz pulls out after what seems like ages pumping you full. His cock no longer there to plug you up, his cum begins to dribble out and mix with the mess between your legs. Your legs shake and you wobble--crying out as Din slips out, your body dreadfully empty and aching.     

You're lowered to the mat by Din and if you weren't still trying to formulate words, you'd thank them. Lips dart over your cheeks and hairline, and for once nothing needs to be said. It’s nice...the radiating warmth from their bodies and the simmering flush through you body is something you could get used to. But you’re no stranger to the shifting tides of the future. 

You shrug it off.    

Your eyes are heavy and with one of them stroking your hair and the other your thigh, you drift to sleep. Later—later all unspoken things and disastrous words can be dealt with tomorrow. You must be dreaming when it’s said--careless and bold, but the words nestle into your heart and sprouts with fear. 

“You love her, don't you?” 

translation:

vaar’ika--pipsqueak 

or’dinni--dumbass idiot 

vod--brother/comrade 

tag list: 

@bobafctts​ @djxrxn​ @teaofpeach​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @nelba​ @datmando​ @ben-is-a-hoe​ @dreams-like-clockwork​ @aerynwrites​ @auty-ren​ @huliabitch​ @anxiety-riddled-mando​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @trippedmetaldetector​ 

[violetnotez]

hi! may i pls make a request for bokugo, todoroki and midoriya hcs on what they would do if they had to vs their secret crush in the 1v1 ua sports festival arc? i hope you have a great day!!🥺

Hi babe! Im so sorry it took so long to make these, but I literally couldn’t stop thinking about this idea cause it was so fricking cuttteeeeeeeee

I did headcannons as well as a short one shot right after, I hope thats alright! <3

Music Genre: Pop | BNHA

Characters: Bakugo, Shoto, Izuku

Warnings: cussing

Music Collection | Tip Jar | Requests!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Bakugo

This dude right here ^^^

Sorry but-hes not gonna be too kind

Bakugo most deifnitely is denying every single damn sign that he has a crush on you

He deifnitely doesn’t stare at you for way too long during class, or doesn’t smirk to himself when you got past this first round, and his heart didn’t drop to the floor when he realized he would have to fight against you

Nope, deifnitley not

😑😑😑 Bakugo stop being a shit and admit you have feelings

Kirishima was the one who first recognized his crush on you, and you know damn well he noticed Bakugo’s demeanor instantly changed when he saw your face flash against his in the versus round

When Bakugo saw that on the screen, his shoulders instantly stiffened, his eyes steeled, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets so no one could see how tightly his hands were balled up

Only Kirishima noticed the change in his best friend as his freinds cheered at the line up

“Hey-you okay dude?” He asked, his voice full of concern as he tried to place a hand on his shoulder

Of course, Bakugo being the little shit he is, shoved his hand away with his shoulder, standing up quickly

“I’m gonna go get ready for the 2nd round,” he grumbled, giving his friend a side eyed look and he turned his back on the stadium and going to the hallways to chill

Now, even though he was rudeeeeeeeee af, this dude is freaking the hell out internally

He wants to win so badly, but-at what cost? Something was different with you-he was okay with putting his all into each and every fight

If he had to hurt himself, or hurt his opponent to come out on top-that’s all that mattered right? But for some reason, the thought of hurting you made his body feel queasy and made him feel like shit-

this never happened to him, this possessive want to protect someone and keep them safe-this was such a foreign feeling that it kind of scared him

Was he getting soft? Was he not tough anymore?

He didn’t know what to do-go easy on you and potentially let you win, making him look weak? Or go all out, making sure he wins to the point that he hurts you-which would make him feel like shit after. Would you hate him after? Could he handle that idea of you despising him for hurting you?

These thoughts were making him so conflicted to the point of rage , and Bakugo being Bakugo, he was just fuming internally,

his digits were tugging at his strands, his fist colliding with the table as a curse slipped through his lips

He didn’t know what to do and it was fucking annoying to him

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ:* ✧

“So I guess we’re paired together huh?” your voice echoed through the deathly silent room, the sound sending a cold shiver down Bakugo’s back.

He quickly looked up, his chest tightening at the mere sight of you leaning against the door frame.

“This is my fucking room-get out,” he grumbled, his crimson red eyes squinting at you at an attempt to look intimidating.

You simply rolled your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips.

You had known Bakugo for too long and too well to get scared at his harsh words anymore.

“I don’t see your name on the door,” you quipped back with a grin, “and besides, it might be good Im in here. You’re so loud somebody’s gonna think you’re talking to yourself.”

Shit-was he really starting to talk to himself now?

Bakugo swallowed a clump of saliva, a pit growing in his stomach. If he was talking to himself-did you hear everything he had said? Did you know he was actually thinking of going soft on you?

You noticed how he stiffened at your words, a gruff exhalation of breath leaving his lips.

“Don’t worry, I was just joking around-“, You simply chuckled, shaking your head as you sat down next to him. “-but you still are really loud though.”

“And you’re still fucking annoying, as always.”

“Ouch!” You smiled, scrunching up your nose in mock hurt.

Bakugo pursed his lips, hating how cute he found you when you made that expression.

You didn’t seem to notice the way Bakugo was affected by your movement, taking a deep breath.

Something in your expression had changed-you no longer looked so carefree and relaxed. You gave him a concerned look, your teeth gnawing at the side your cheek.

“So is something on your mind? You’re usually always cussing someone out, but cussing at the air isn’t usually your thing.”

His feet shuffled under the table, his hands way more clammy than they usually were. So he really was being too loud- he needed to think of soemthing to tell you. And something realllllll fucking quick.

But he couldn’t-he felt like his was gasping for air, just staring at your waiting face. God, why did he have to actually like you like that? Now as he’s looking at you, something in his heart hurt-he couldn’t hurt you. He just-couldnt. He’d feel like a dick after and he’s never be able to forgive himself if he laid even a scratch on you.

Why was this so fucking hard?

You sighed, your tongue swiping your bottom lip as you look down at your hands.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine,” you looked up, your eyes piercing to him and making his lungs feel shut off. “But-dont let it affect you. I want you to come at me with all you got-“

You gave him a devilish grin, your eyes sparkling.

“-I wanna rub it in your face that I actualy beat you in front of a whole ass crowd. Might be good for you ego too,” you gave out a laugh at the last sentence, Bakugo’s shoulder softening slightly.

“Tch-,” he grunted out, his crimson eyes rolling in their sockets, “-like you could ever fucking beat me.”

You gave him one final look, your eyes quitting at him with a mischievous glint.

“We’ll see about that,” you gave him one last smile, standing up from your chair.

“I’ll see ya later.”

Bakugo heard your feet walk out the room, that tell tale click of the door closing softly reverberating in the room. He let out a sigh, something about your words making him feel like a huge weight just left his shoulders.

If you wanted him to go all out-then he’d do it.

Izuku

Dude, this poor baby

He’s actually freaking out. Like HARD.

Izuku wants to win pretty badly to prove it to himself, his family, his mentor/role model...but at what cost? Hurting you?

Hahah well that’s funny cause that ain’t happening

He’s legit thinking of just going easy on you-what’s the harm in that? Sure he might lose, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt-

This dude is not very good at hiding his feelings for you, so of course Iida and Ochaco already know of this infactuation obsession Izuku has for you

They kinda have to explain to him that’d it be really really stupid to just let you beat himjust because he didn’t want to hurt you

Iida basically explained that it’d hurt the “pride and prestige quality of the games” if he didn’t “fight to his fullest” and “y/n’s honor would be incredibly diminished” as the fight “wouldn’t be fair nor honest”

Which basically translated to just fight her Midoriya

Uraraka told him that you could hold your own, and you wouldn’t ever get mad at him cause like-it’s the point for everyone to fight their all to win

So Izuku kinda took a chill pill

Until he stepped into that arena

Cause ohohoohohoh it is wayyyyy different from talking about fighting to actually doing it

He’s kinda nervous at first-cause it’s happening. He has to actually fight you like this. In front of everybody.

Damn fate really did not like him right now did it?

You come at him full force-and holy CRAP did it throw him off

But it kind of woke him up to the situation-if your going to try your best, then he felt a little bit better forcing himself to do his best as well

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t wanna scream “Sorry!” And run over to you everytime he blasts ya with OFA, but it’s all good

Your fight was a little bit longer than the others, but in the end, you lost to Izuku

You two were seriously burnt out though-you got cuts and bruises everywhere from falling (and a big ass headache), and Izuku’s arms looked like burnt fried chicken

Deku felt pride in himself, cause damn you were really strong and he actually fought you off but-he hurt you AND made you lose

Looking at your face, he feels like shit-cause of course you look really beat down knowing you won’t be advancing to the next round

His foot stumbled forward, wanting to go see if you were okay

But the teachers quickly usher you two to go see the nurses, so he just had to give you an apologetic look until he could actually talk to you

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Izuku sat on the make shift bed, every movement he made setting off a plethora of crinkling noises from the paper overlay.

Everything seemed to be okay with him-he was actually surprised to hear he wasn’t as beat up as he thought he really was. Over course, Recovery Girl scolded him for taking such a risk on his body with his quirk, but with a big smooch on his cheek he was ready to go.

He heard a click of a door opening, expecting to see Recovery Girl come hobbling over to check his vitals one last time-until he looked up and his heart stopped on his chest.

There you were, banged up and bruise, your stance favoring your right side.

You seemed to be pretty surprised to see him too-your eyes widened in shock, and your shoulders stiffened at the sight of him.

Izuku’s head was going on overdrive-how were you feeling? Where you okay? Did he hurt you that badly? did you hate him? Was he invading your space just being present?

The thoughts were coming a mile a minute, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish as he kept watching you with a stunned, blank expression.

To his relief, your shocked expression turned into a small smile and your eyes softened as you looked at Izuku’s shy gaze.

“Hey,” you simply said, breaking the awkward silence of the room.

Izuku quickly cleared his throat, repeating a “hey” back to you as he watched you sit down, his toes scrunching in his battered red shoes.

Guilt was bubbling in his stomach, his brows knitted in pain as you tred to sit down on a hospital bed. You were practically limping your way to sit down, the unmissable look of pain knitted in your brows.

God, he did that? To you-out of all the people in the world, you were one of the last people he would ever want to land a finger on. Of course, you had messed him up pretty badly, but it just felt strange to know he had caused you this discomfort.

“Are you-you feeling alright?” He asked quietly, his voice meek and hesitant.

You gave him another strained smile, using the table next to you to support your weight.

You weren’t going to deny it-Izuku really did a number on you. In the fight, your adrenaline was kicking in so much that the pain was barely even noticeable to you. But now that you were calm and collected, the throbbing pain that seemed to be everywhere was coming out in full force.

“Yeah, I’m doing okay-I guess,” you gave a small chuckle, trying to hide the grimace as a zap of pain pierced your bruised rib cage.

Izuku immediately noticed that look on your face, his feet touching the cold linoleum floor.

You felt hands gingerly circle around your sides, the pressure reassuring yet light, heat from another person radiating onto your back.

Midoriya was supporting your battered body, leading you to the closest bed and setting you down gingerly.

To say the feeling of Izuku holding you was making you flustered was an understatement-you were freaking the hell out. But something about him holding you was so comforting-even with him beaten up, and him being the reason you were in this portion- he still somehow was able to make you feel safe and protected.

“ ‘Zuku,” you asked, your heart thumping a mile a minute, “what are you-you doing?”

He set you down gingerly, his hands light and feathery against your skin.

“I-Uh,” He have you a sheepish grin, his cheeks red and his voice a stuttering mess from that nickname. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-to offend you, you just seemed like you were hurting...”

You tilted your head with a grin, your hand wrapping around his wrist for support.

“Don’t worry-you didn’t,”

His face light up, a warm relieved grin on his lips.

“Oh good! I was worried, cause after the whole match and everything, and you looked so hurt, I just, I don’t know, I was worried maybe you wouldnt want me around but I just didn’t want to-“

For some reason, that relief that you didn’t hate him had released the stuttering of poor Izuku, his brain going once again at a pace much to fast to comprehend.

You could barely catch a word, but you were able to stitch his thoughts together, a giggle escaping your lips.

He couldn’t be more adorable, could he?

Your heart pounded in your chest as your digits wrapping around his freckled cheeks. The sensation of your skin so close to his made his mouth stop in its tracks, his emerald eyes wide with shock.

“You really think I’d hate you ‘Zuku?”

God-he love that nickname. Your voice sent a shockwave if electricity through his body, his mind helplessly numb and in control by you.

Even with you cradling his cheeks, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

“I-Uh-Uh....maybe?”

Izuku heard you sigh, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip.

He know it would look strange to anyone walking in, with him standing in between your legs and your hands wrapped against his cheeks. He knew he should move, just in case of the off chance somebody could walk in, but-he didn’t want to. He was in love with the feeling of your body so close to his, finally able to drink in every beautiful feature of your face, put every perfect sensation into his memory....it was nerve wracking yet soothing and he never wanted this moment to end.

“Deku, I could never hate you,” you smiled gingerly, your mind fighting your digits from tracing each adorable freckle decorating his face.

He looked at you with wide, confused eyes, his bruised lips parted and mind blank.

You said-you didn’t hate him?

He felt a rush of relief completely envelope his body, feeling on top of the world. You didn’t hate him for fighting you-and you even said you could never hate him. Was he really that lucky to have such a sweet crush like you?

He felt so happy he just had the undeniable want to just kiss you-you we’re close enough after all, he could just lean in to you....

“Oh-uh,” he quickly stuttered our, terrified he would actually act on what he was thinking, “Thats-thats great, thank you,”

You chuckled at his flustered ness, his cheeks a raging red from his thoughts-he definitely wouldn’t ever stop being a nervous wreck around you.

Shoto

Honestly, you would never know Shoto had a crush on you

hes just SO HARD TO READ

Also this boy would be the last person to realize he had a crush in the first place

very very oblivious poor baby

anyways, because of this oblivious part of him, he’d probably figure out he had a crush right then and there

Like, as he sees your face flash against his, and theres a big VS symbol in between you two

He gets this terrible, sinking feeling

like OH SHIT I have to fight them 

He knew something was different this time around, because with everyone else he was fighting agains,t he could give two shits about them

but with you, the person he was actually fighting against felt important now

He just didn't want to fight you

So that through him off- big time

*queue a shoto todoroki internal monologue

this guy is really having an epiphany rn

Like dang- all those times I would stare at them, or get angry when somebody hurt them, or my face would get really hot when they told me “hi” meant I liked them!?

This pooor thingggggggggggggggg

Now,

 Shoto isnt egotisitical-

 hes just practical

So he knows that he would probably win this match-

 he saw you as a great fighter, yet his quirk was alot more flashy and powerful than yours

So he had either two options:

one) was to just go all out and try to finish the match ASAP, or

two) prolong it, so you could get some exposure to the heroes watching

(spoiler alert- he goes with number two)

But what he doesn't realized is how FLUSTERED he gets when hes fighting you

He’s never been close to you like this before, even if you are fighting-and damn he didn't realize he had been craving this 

He was making more mistakes than he usually would make in a match like this, so it was harder for him to keep the upper hand like he thought he would

But, of course- this is Shoto Todoroki we’re talking about

He finally zaps out of this love sick puppy phase and he starts to fight you for real now- 

anddddddd he manages to push you off the stage boundaries

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ 

Shoto took a deep breath, his lungs feeling icy from his quirk and his body heavy with fatigue.

Damn- that was a hard ass fight.

The sound of a roaring crowd was piercing his ears, Present Mic’s booming voice echoing the results of the matchup.

“Todoroki” seemed to be echoing throughout the stadium, his last name a mantra in the speakers.  He won the match after all- he’d be advancing.

Shoto licked his lips, the tang of blood sparking in his mouth. Shoto didnt really feel much in these moments, as he could never really appreciate the achievements he had under his belt at such a young age.

But right now, something different was bubbling in his stomach- Shoto turned to look at you, your knees digging into the gravel and your fists balled into the dirt, your head laying low.

It wasnt rocket science to tell you were feeling down about loosing the match, and Shoto could see you were frustrated by the circumstances- he won, and you didnt.

Watching you struggling to get up from the icy ground he had made, your body beaten and bruised....he felt-guilty.

Suddenly, he felt his feet walking towards you, his heart beating a mile a minute in his chest.

His head was swarming with nerves as he held out his digits, his palm stretched out in a peace offering.

“Here,” his voice was smooth and deep, sending a shiver down your spine as you looked up at his outstretched digits.

You gave him a quizzical look, almost as if to say “what are you doing?”

Shoto bit his bottom lip, looking at the side as his cheeks flushed red.

“Take my hand-you’re injured.”

His tone was placid and calm, his bi colored eyes boaring into yours. It was just so confusing....he won the match, so why did he want to help you?

“Why?” you asked, your voice groggy and thick.

“Because-you’re hurt, and I’m certain my old man wouldn’t want me to be doing this. So I want to do it.”

I small laugh escaped your lips, the sound so sweet that it made Shoto’s face even more red and his heart beat faster in his chest.

“Shoto Todoroki being a rebel-“ you joked, shaking your head as you laughed, “I wouldn’t expect that from you.”

You looked up at the Todoroki son, a smile on your lips as you took his hand.

Ah crap-Shoto was really over heating at this point, his mind going haywire as he tried to figure out why it was so hard to keep his right side at bat as he pulled you up from the floor.

He found something so endearing about how small your palm was compared to his-it fit almost perfectly in his, the skin soft and warm against his.

Shoto cleared his throat, his eyes dancing nervously, trying his best to get his nerves in check.

“Is that-a bad thing?” He asked, feeling slightly sad that you had taken your hand out of his to dust off your tattered PE pants.

“Nope,” you said, popping the “p” in the sentence, “I think it’s a good thing-I like it.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[a-very-tired-raven]

EEEEEEE so I've been in a writing mood as of late and I needed some help for a writing prompt. One of my best Tumblr friends(@let-love-run-red go check her out!!! She writes amazing garcello fics and headcanons and is a big inspiration for me!!)helped me out! This'll be a lil angsty sorry not sorry lol

•Nothing to lose•

(Trigger warnings!:Mentions of abuse,death,homelessness, multiple past abusive relationships,and bad cigarette habbits!)

You burst out laughing for what seemed to be the 10th time day as your buddy Garcello told yet another joke. "Seriously tho cello! That one was terrible! " He shot you a wink "heh your smiling though." You tried to wipe the smirk off your face. Unsuccessfully. "Am not" you playfully swatted his arm. He just shrugs "Whatever helps you sleep at night kid."

You roll your eyes, "Hey I'm not the one wearing a long sleeved coat and Jeans in the middle of summer" You sent a playful glare. "Your absolutely nuts!" He returns your glare. "Hey at least I'm not the one who's only clothes are T-shirts,shorts and Hoodies! All you ever wear are T-shirts and shorts. Your the crazy one. I don't see how you don't ever get cold"

You smile softy as you see the way he talks with his hands moving everywhere while he rants. I mean.. you do too its just nice to see someone else not pick on you for that. Its... nice to have someone who doesn't judge you for who you are whatsoever. It's been hard,taking care of three siblings all by yourself. Most would shy aways and call you crazy weird,disgusting,freak you've heard it all. Garcello...

Garcello was different.

"Y/n?"

You snap your head up effectively cutting off your somewhat depressing thoughts. "Hm?" You look over. "Are you alright? Ya kinda zoned out on me. I mean I know I can be boring at times but I didn't know I was a snooze fest" Besides his joking banter he has a face full of worry, Beautiful golden eyes scanning your face as if searching for the answer to a murder mystery.

"Nahh your not that boring. Promise. And..yeah I'm fine. Just kinda spaced out y'know?" He nods his head in agreement. You both slow to a stop. He chuckles a bit and turns to you. "Yeah yeah I know, it's just... I recognize that look, Y/N. Believe me I do.. im sorry to be a buzz kill but.. you know you can talk to me. About anything right?" You give that soft and kind smile that melts his heart every rare occasion he gets to see it. You never smile enough..

Sure there's the joking but... genuine smiles,ones that don't cover a dark and rough interior. He knows first hand what that feels like. So.. he tries. He's tries all he can to get you to smile that genuine smile as often as can be. For both your sakes.

"I know garcy. And thank you. Glad to know it still stands." You give him a quick hug that immediately makes his cheeks warm. He's really thankful for the shade his cap gives his face right about now. "I'll see you later alright? And tell Annie I said hey!" "Alrighty will do! And get some rest tonight okay? Cya." You nod a okay and walk inside your apartment.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------You stare holes into the ceiling. Past memories flash through your mind. Your mother, and father. You were disgusted to call them that. Helping and raising your siblings. Her...death.. being homeless..heh something both you and garcello share in common. Picking up your smoking habbit.. heh another thing. Meeting him.. These past few months.

Its been hard...but its been good. You have a roof over your head. Your four siblings are okay. You haven't seen your older brother in a while but he gave you a call. You have food, water,and.. Garcello and Annie. A smile works its was on your face.

I'm glad I met him' a soft smile works its way onto your face until you realize you thought just garcello and not both him and his sister. YES you love them both- like a family-its not like that- ugh why does thoughts have to be complicated!! You roll over,you have to get to sleep. Garcello told you to! And he said he wanted to meet up for something again. You slowly drift off.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Garcello was antsy the whole walk to the park;the place you two agreed to meet. His face was a mad red. He had your favorite flowers and your favorite candy! Reeces pieces and snickers. He's never done anything like this before. Confessing he means. Sure he's asked a few chick's out but... Nobody important or someone he cares about, nobody like you. You changed his entire life in just the few months he's knew you.. He hopes you'll say yes. then again.. his hopes are all the way up.. who'd wanna date guy like him?

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

You look up from your phone to see garcello approaching you. He's very...stressed? No... anxious? Yes Anxious for lack of a better work. With his hands behind his back...Hmmm....

"Hey cello, whatcha got there? You got murder on your mind?" You give a teasing smirk. He just immediately freezes. "I-um-uhm. No. I uh got ya somethin' if that's alright?" He very stiffly sits in front of you. He's sweating bullets. Geeze what's got him this worked up.. "Dang cello with how your acting Ida thought you were askin' me out" you give a light chuckle. He freezes completely.

"Heh uh yeah heh...um..here..you go.. I bought these. For you.. Noone else. Heh" He awkwardly places a two boxes of your favorite candy and holds out a large boutique of your favorite flowers. You freeze completely, mouth hanging open in shock."Y/N...I've liked you for a while now.. your so nice and thoughtful...and you understand me. I was maybe hoping you'd go on a date? With me?" His face is cherry red.

What. He can't be serious? Really he can't. Nobody would ever like you that. Yes you love him.. but you can't afford to love him. Caring gets you hurt. And being vulnerable gets you killed mentally as well as physically You've long sense learned this from your past three relationships

"Are you serious?..Garcello... I cant.. I can't accept this.."

Your heart sinks as you watch the hope glittering off his eyes dim

"Of course I am! Y/N I love you..." Your both standing up at this point. Your both shaking.

"And garcello... I know-i know but please-i just cant!"

"At least tell me why? Am I not enough? I thought... maybe you'd understand.." He drops the boutique. He..he knew it..your too good for him...He really does disappoint everyone..

"Garcello I just cant!can't"! You don't notice the tears spilling down your face at this point.

"But why! I love you! I really do! You mean so much to me!" You take a step back.

"Just stop! don't do that to me Garcello! Dont give me hope! Never ever give me something I want, something I want as bad as you!"

"Why" he's pleading with you so hard..please...just tell him..

"BECAUSE THEN I HAVE SOMETHING TO LOSE!" You hadn't ment to scream. Your fists are clenched and eyes shut tight, you feel as if you might collapse at any moment. Garcello's stunned into silence. "And then I'll be open to get hurt... and I just.." You let out a broken sob. "I'm just so tired of being hurt" you don't move as he engulfs you into a hug.

"And as much as I love you too.. I can't risk being vulnerable again... raising 3 siblings and protecting them so at least they can have a good childhood while you haven't even had on yourself..." You don't notice tears of his own dropping on your shirt. "Being backstabbed and left broken with Noone to fix you...I just can't do it again..." He let's out a broken whisper. "I know Y/N.. I know more than you ever will."

Your just left there hugging in silence. You've decided. You can talk it out because as you were too blind by fear. Fear of being hurt again... he's just like you,two broken puzzle pieces that fit together.

Hope yall like it! Promt idea goes to @let-love-run-red ! Go follow and check her out!

I accept any and all constructive criticism!,

[heliianth]

talking abt my thoughts and feelings regarding this below. if yall wanna know where the blog is going read on ^^

for now, i will still continue to support dream and create content surrounding him and his dsmp character. i’m not wholly satisfied with his twtlonger, but it was enough for me to feel ready to continue on. i think he was a colossal dumbass during this, but i believe in good faith that it was out of fear more than malice. i never thought he would willingly platform and house an abuser. its very relieving to have that confirmed. so my perspective is that what he said was genuine, and neither an absolution of guilt nor a damnation. to make a conclusion either way is too presumptuous for me to feel comfortable reading or speaking on it, and i think to say dream was being manipulative or guilt trippy in his wording expects too much from someone who is… just a guy, and not an evil mastermind. it wasnt perfect. he still needs to deal with the consequences of the way things went. it just is the way it is.

dream didnt say anything about manatreed other than hes not continuing with a career, and frankly i’m resigned to never figuring out how i feel about them. im glad hes not returning to streaming, at the very least. i dont know how credible the evidence was against him. on principle im wary of the leaktwt-kiwifarms type, engaging in a lot of political internet discourse like i do will make anyone more than suspicious of lolcow forums. so ive heard a lot of conflicting information from people i trust since i refuse to look at doxxed info—is the evidence credible or not? but i dont really care, im happy manatreed doesnt have a platform anymore regardless. keeping a random guys career in tact wouldve never been worth the risk of letting an abuser have that much influence. it was the safest option for everyone, even if manatreed is innocent. we will never know. and though it doesnt feel great, i’ll come to terms with it.

i encourage anyone who doesnt want to follow dream content at all after this to unfollow guiltlessly. there’ll come a time, probably not right away, that this blog will return to its normal state (as in: being run by someone who has dream merch and stickers etc, lol) if that makes people uncomfortable, thats very understandable. it sucks neither cc could do anything more. a lot of peoples trust is going to need to be rebuilt, including mine to an extent, and i dont hold anything against anyone who feels warier than me moving forwards. everyone has their own emotions and reasons for acting on them. i think some people are being very unkind right now—no matter what your opinion is i respect it and hope this blog can be a place where you can feel safe. this was out of our control.

n special thanks (once more 😓 /lh) to the wonderful ppl in my inbox who kept me sane throughout this entire thing. you guys are kind beyond words. i cant describe how helpful it was to be reassured by people i wasnt already close to—it feels more real. hopefully we can all recover peacefully 💕

[chuuya-centric]

down CATACLYSMICALLY 🤕

character: chuuya nakahara

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: gn afab reader, no pronouns used, alcohol mentions / use ? unorganized as FUCK — read at your own risk 🚶 these r also much longer than i originally intended 🤒🤕 they get kinda bad at the end bc im lazy asf and just wanted to be done with these im sorry yall LMAOO

↬he he i he he i i hhnhshgghfgg

↬lord please god passionate+romantic sex with this man is all i ask you for please ill never ask for anything ever again 🙏🙏🙏

↬now i would like to start this with a disclaimer by saying chuuya is usually vv rough and passionate and would manhandle your ass 😁🤞 however these hcs will be like 🧍 slow ................. and passionate ??? not gentle per se but just romantic amd uhm very much "love making" if u will 💯

↬sensual ?? i think ????

↬hhndhsgh ik we're all horny and just wanna be used like a ragdoll but please hear me out yall

↬emotional and passionate sex !!!!!!!!! this usually happens whenever chuuya gets drunk (bc i think he is a v emotional drunk, and if he's w his s/o i think he gets vv sentimental / touchy-feely

↬ofc if you say no or reject his advances he wont do anything other than cling to ur side but if u dont do anything to stop him you will 100% be in his bed by the end of the night 🔥🔥

↬starts out as him havin a lil too much to drink nothin new yk and then he gets more touchy / physically clingy than usual 🧎

↬a lil off topic but he would absolutely fight anyone who tried to flirt w you / anyone who looked at u the wrong way LMAOOO not saying u have to babysit him but 🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦯 taking him back home would be the smart thing to do as to avoid bar fights

↬but back on track i think chuuya would refuse to leave your side 💀 he would be all over u so unless ur into like hardcore pda u fr better take him home 💀💀

↬he's a horny menace 😕👎

↬okay so blah blah blah yall r back home now what ? now he rlly starts getting emotional 🚶 he's just so grateful to have u in his life and he loves you so much and what if he's not good enough for you ???? how could u love someone like him ?????? what if— please just shut him up with a tender kiss 🤒☹️ tell him u love him very much

↬he............hhbbgdgshhhh i was talking to @chuuyasbf ab this but dhshsbhhhhhh we came to the conclusion that he'd like smother u in kisses oh my fucking god 💔🙏 like he'd just cover your mf face in kisses and i— bursts into tears

↬now by this point this is where he'll start communicating his feelings thru actions rather than words so please expect a very heated makeout session (that leads up to the best sex of ur life 😏)

↬"he just goes “oops, missed a spot *kiss* oops, theres another one *kiss*" - @chuuyasbf and i honestly could not agree more please 🧎🧎 hhnbbhghghh

↬but back to the makeout session it started after u shut him up w that kiss yk and u were both just sitting on the couch, originally basking in the others presence, before the words just started flowing so ofc u gave him a lil kiss n told him he was enough and that u loved him so so much and he pulled you back for another n another til u were sitting on his lap w his tongue in ur mouth

↬and things progressed n progressed n next thing yk he's got you intoxicated (his kisses r life changing ok 🤨🕶️🤏 even if he were sober it'd just be hjndhdghgggh) but like yall know when ur grinding against them n they buck their hips up a lil ? yeah <33

↬HE'S SO HANDSY OMFG ESP IF YOURE SITTING IN HIS LAP 🙏🙏🙏 after he's pulled you as close to him as humanly possible (im talkin chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip — he is a very intimate person and greatly enjoys physical touch argue w the wall ab it) his hands go from finding purchase on ur hips and guiding your movements to pulling at ur hair to feeling u up to running his fingers up n down ur back to helping you take your shirt off. he cannot for the life of him keep his hands to himself

↬in reality he'd shift you onto his thigh before making ur neck his next target for his kisses (and hickies)

↬when you start whining for more and saying his kisses aren't enough, thats when he'll sober up enough to be snapped back to reality n to carry you to his room 🧎 or so you thought 😚

↬confused, u didn't get the hint until he bounced his leg, once, twice, oh— and even after you'd understood what he wanted you to do, he'd grab ur hips and completey take control of the pace n grind u against his thigh almost agonizingly slow, all while leaving some awfuy dark hickies on ur lower neck n a handful on ur collarbones

↬ofc theres some muttered praise and "i love yous" as well. he'll tell you how good you look, getting off on his thigh like this

↬he'll take u back to his room only after you've cum against his thigh 🧎🧎 consider it a warm up LMFAOO

↬when he finally does get up from the couch, he'll probably use his ability to help stablize yall a little 💀 (he had a lil too much to drink pls dont clown him)

↬whereas he'd normally toss u onto the bed, this time he took his time to set u down gently before settling down in between ur thighs and— hey wait a damn minute when did this mf find the time to get your pants off huh—

↬aye speaking of which i think chuuya is rlly big on eye contact regardless bc its honestly just vv intimate to him 🧐🚶

↬yall know when they like ............. when theyre like caressing / holding your thigh n looking up at u n they kiss ur inner thigh while maintaining eye contact or whatever ...................... <33

↬i think his praise kink especially shines thru when he gets drunk bc he will take his mf time covering you in kisses and hickies all while showering u in praise n telling u how beautiful u r and ab how much he loves you

↬he knows his words usually tend to be / sound harsh, but at the end of the day he loves you sm more than words will ever be able to convey :((

↬def tries to make up for that (when he's drunk 🙄 emotionally inarticulate ass 🚶) by showering you in praise and doing his best to be tender and gentle

↬and to be fair he'd be content w smothering u in praise and kisses for the rest of the night n probably would if u let him 🧎🧎 please snap this mf back to reality by yanking his hair n whining for more

↬in which case he will be happy to oblige 😚 he's def the type of person to get off on his partners pleasure so that being said this mf will make sure u cum on his tongue at least twice before properly fucking you

↬whenever hes drunk he tends set a rather slow pace but dont let that fool you 🧎 the entire thing is so fucking intimate oh my lord you will be seeing stars by the time he's done w you

↬his thrusts r much deeper n more precise than usual and he puts one of ur legs on his shoulder and has the other pressed up by ur head it really just enhances everything yk ?? 😁😁 (mating press kinda ??????? not exactly but)

↬he ends up alternating between leaving (more) hickies on ur neck n shoulders and actually kissing you as well (your lips r gon be bruised asf by the end of it all sorry 🔥💯)

↬even drunk he loves to overstimulate you omfg 🤤 loves seeing you get all teary-eyed from the pleasure (even better if u actually cry 😏🕶️🤏) bc to him it shows that he's done a good job

↬aftercare w drunk chuuya is a lil sloppy tbh 😕 probably immiediately passes tf still inside u after pressing like a final kiss to ur forehead LMFAOOO

↬but dw he makes it up to u in the morning !!!!! after taking care of his hangover first tho 💀 once he's feeling better himself, he'll def offer to draw u a bath and, lets pretend he has the day off here, after that all he rlly wants to do is cuddle for the rest of the morning

↬do not bring up how clingy he was last night LMFAOOO his face will get so red so fast (unless ofc thats ur goal in which case go right on ahead 😚😚😚)

↬please do, however, kiss his forehead and tell him that u love him n that he did a good job last night

[keiruvieg]

 Take me home where i belong

Suguru x Reader

a/n: man i just wanna write Suguru right now. im working on another one similar to this!! 

warnings: angst and idk. Grammatical errors

word count: 1697

Summary: after what happened to Suguru Geto, what is it that you truly desire?

A soft voice- a voice that calls you out.

"I'll be waiting for you,until then please be safe"

Those were the last words he said. The last words that made your resolve crumble, that every minute of the day breaks you. He's not here anymore. The first guy that calls you out, the first guy that was so sweet you feel like it's illegal to be close to him,the first guy that'll take you out to random places after every mission, the first guy to ever look out for you. The first guy that you longed for- you yearned everything about him-his touch,his humor,his smarty-pants attitude,his voice that makes you know that you're alright once you're talking to him, his terrible but at the same time makes you feel like the world is just about the two of you attitude. You miss him but

Suguru is already gone.

He left you. He left you with a broken resolve. A broken heart. And a confusing words-yet he said delicately. How did it end up like this? He left the world he was born to be in. He became the person that he said is not necessary for a jujutsu sorcerer. Suguru ate all his words.

A mission.

A mission was sent to you again. How many missions was it again ever since he left? It suddenly got out of your mind anymore. Was it not that important? Was he even important? Moreover... Were you even important to him?

A crowded place with a grade 1 curse spirit. It should be fine. You're a grade 1 too so it should be fine. But why did they even put you with this many people? Are you gonna...protect them?

"Shit,fuck" was all you grunted after receiving a number of attacks. Why did you even prioritize others? Fuck, all you did was protect those non powered people and this is all you got. A number of bruises and wounds. Did it hit any vital parts in you?

" I should probably go to shoko right now before anything happens" was all you thought after losing your consciousness.

"I'll create a world full of jujutsu sorcerers" your heart is running meters now because of how fast it beats. "What are you..talking about?" Was all the words that came out of your mouth. He looks down- Suguru might've lost his energy

"Are you gonna laugh at it?" He leaned in the nearest wall the both of you were in. He was waiting patiently for your answer. But all you did was look down. The urge to shout and question him was inside of you and yet it didn't come out.

You just met him after a mission you thought the you can make him come back. How delusional of you, you can't even speak up to him. You can't even speak up to the guy that made your world brighter. You can't even speak up to the guy who left you behind. What is he even talking about? What is he planning? What is he thinking? What got into him? You wanted to question him all of that and yet- only one question come out- "what are you talking about?" The 2nd time- yeah it was already the second time you asked him that. It was already the 2nd time and yet you feel like he'll just answer the same answer- the answer you don't want to hear from him-"i'll create a world without a non-jujutsu sorcerer". Why? Why do you wanna create that? Aren't you satisfied enough with the life you had? Who pushed that idea into you? Why did it cross your mind? Can i even..do something about it? No. Not even Satoru can do anything. Both of you and Satoru didn't have enough courage. "Hey.." there it is again. The voice that calls you out, the voice that made you question everything about you. A weight was pressed in your right shoulder-his hand,his rough yet gentle hands that reach out to you. You looked up at him. And all he did was put his other hand in your left cheek and pressed your foreheads together. "I'll be waiting for you,until then please be safe" then he left. Again. He left you hanging. He left you again with a lot of questions. He left you questioning yourself. You didn't even feel that you were losing your strength in your knees. You were already on the floor. With tears that you shed for the one and only Suguru Geto.

A light.

After all those days. Why does your dream need to remind you of him? You take a look at your surroundings. A bed. A nightstand. A familiar room. Yeah it was your room. Someone must've put you there when you got to Shoko. Your head aches,no it wasn't your head only. It feels like everything in you was being torn to pieces

"If the time comes would you run away with me?"

Another headache. Suguru Geto filled the depths in your soul. You remembered the time he asked that. It confused you at some point. But you said yes-you said yes to running away with him-because you thought his witty attitude is finally hitting him again. But now, it feels like- he really did wanna runaway- with you.

Yeah. Maybe. Running away was the best choice.

But something was holding you back. What was it? What was it that kept you from running away? What was it-what's the reason for it.

"Protecting the weak must come first, that's why i'll protect you first"

That's right. The old Suguru Geto was holding you back. The Suguru Geto that made sure to look out to those who are weak. The Suguru Geto that was so considerate to everyone. The Suguru Geto that believes that protecting the weak comes first.

But how about the Suguru Geto that's waiting for you. He must be lonely. He needs you. His words scream something so deep that it's hard to dig it. The voice of someone that yearned for another.

Suguru Geto is waiting for you.

You took the courage to stand up even though your body felt weak. There was still some aching in your body probably from moving around too much but yet you still stood up. You made sure to rethink everything. What was the right thing to do? Will helping take out curses be able to help you? Or will you just run away from everything and go back to someone so dear to you? You think about it again and again.

“Let’s go home?”

Another headache,another memory of him, this time he was smiling. That smile that made you fall deeper than somewhere on earth. That crashed something beneath your soul. 

Suguru Geto really was so dear to you

You took everything out, you didn't even bother when something fell as long as it can have you take something, your clothes, your personal belongings everything, and it hits you, where are you gonna find him? You don’t even have leads of him and yet you still thought of running away. How are you gonna come to him

The village

The village where he massacred even his own parents there must be something there. There must be some leads of where he is. Contacting him is impossible right now. All you can do right now is rush to that village and find some leads of where he is.

4 days- 4 days and still no Suguru. The village was no help either. It was deserted at some point. Where are you gonna find him now. Your stomach is now wishing for food, the food runs out on your 3rd and a half day. Your stomach could bare right? It doesn't matter right now right? You haven't even got to sleep yet and are still finding Suguru. The odds of finding him is very slim right now.

8 days- your money really wasnt enough huh, now you can’t even afford transportation. Pathetic. You really would risk everything huh. 

Suguru Geto where the fuck are you?

The 11th day was the worst. At least on the 9th day you still got some food and now you only have water with you and you feel like passing out already. Was running away really the best choice? Now you’re finding reasons about running away. You’re finally overthinking your decisions, it’s already the 11th day and still no leads of him. Your feet just kept walking and walking taking you everywhere. Your knees felt particularly weak right now. You dont even know if you can travel all around Japan like this and yet you still keep going. 

You wanna come home. To him

“Mimiko that’s dangerous,please watch out”

Your world shaken. After almost 12 days, Suguru Geto finally showed up. You looked up at him, he had his back turning at you. It looks like he’s watching out for those two girls

But that doesnt matter

You wanted to run at him and punch him and yell at him. You wanted him to know that you almost went homeless because of him. But you didn't have the energy to do that. All you did was walk up to him until you felt close enough to tug his white long sleeves that he was wearing. Not feeling your knees anymore, you suddenly fell down. Tears swelling up in your eyes

I found you 

“(Y/N)?” looking up to him, tears now falling down from your eyes, you smiled. “Take me home?” was all that came out of you. Suguru just kneeled down at you, foreheads pressed together. “Sorry, did I put a burden on you?” he muttered with such a low voice that only you can hear. You finally had the courage to hit the guy but all he did was chuckle at you

“Sorry to make you wait, let’s get you home?”

He made sure he guided you afterwards, the two girls assisting you also. He took you somewhere unfamiliar and yet you didn't complain.

Suguru Geto was finally with you