#and i know im never going to be fully free from this pain.

[orcelito]

I'm tired of dreaming about my dad. I know it's part of processing, but I am just so tired.

[likeumeanit9497]

| after hours c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris practically begs his best friend to massage his back, but after an awkward discovery, y/n finds it difficult to keep her hands -- and her eyes -- on the job.

warnings: smut; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; hand job; squirting; unprotected p in v; dirty talk(!!!!); 18+

notes: whew! long time no see! life has been putting me through the absolute ringer lately! i haven't felt like a real person in months! i still don't tbh! im working on it! but i have absolutely missed writing and tumblr and u all so much! pls forgive my absence on here i literally haven't even been able to open this app since october when my life went south. my semester is over now so i have one major thing off my plate, so im hoping i can be a bit more consistent with writing. I MISSED U ALL SO SO SO SO MUCH and i hope u enjoy this chrissy one shot that i started months ago and just finally finished it today. love u all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“No Chris.” I chuckled, standing up from my couch and walking to my kitchen to put away our leftover dinner. “Please,” I heard him whine behind me, “My back is killing me Y/n.” I turned around, facing my best friend still sitting on the couch where I left him. I laughed at his fake expression of misery, and the hand pressed to his lower back was a nice touch. “Chris, you know I’ve made it a rule not to massage my friends in my free time.” I explained, putting my hands on my hips. He groaned dramatically. “But why? You have all your stuff in the next room!” He began standing up from the couch, being sure to make it seem like a painful struggle.

He was right. I was a licensed massage therapist, and had recently started my own practice from the comfort of my home. I had turned my den into a massage room, fully equipped with a massage table, calming music, and essential oils. But I had made it clear to all of my friends — especially Chris — that I wasn’t going to massage them after-hours. Of course, I would treat them free of charge, but they had to book during normal hours. I was brand new in this career, and I wanted to ensure professionalism right from the start.

“You already know why.” I replied, turning away from him and opening up the fridge to put away my leftovers. As I leaned down into the fridge, I gasped as I suddenly felt a hand press against my lower back. “Just right here.” Chris whispered behind me, circling his thumb along my lower back. “It’ll only take five minutes.” I shuddered at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch. Chris had a habit of turning on his sex appeal when he needed something from me, and even though him and I were only friends, it unfortunately worked.

I turned around and closed the fridge, coming face to face with my friend. His eyebrows were knit together in what I could only assume was faux pain, because there was a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair before pointing at the closed french doors leading to my massage room. “Go in there, take off your shirt and lay on the bed. Call me in when you’re under the sheet.”

A smile consumed his entire face, and before I could change my mind he walked over to the room and shut the door behind him.

Chris’s POV:

As I shut the door of the massage room behind me, I stood for a moment to take in the room. She had never let me in the room before, in fact she made it known that she considered it separate from her home and so she didn’t like going into it when she wasn’t working. I always joked around with her because of that, asking her if it was really a secret torture room, but as I saw it for the first time, I couldn’t help but smile. It was professional, but still had personal touches that made it clear that it was hers.

The lights were dim, enough to see clearly but dark enough that everything had a blurry haze to it. It smelled like that shit she diffuses in her bedroom — I think she told me once that it was lavender or something. I noticed the various candles dotted around the room, and took it upon myself to light a few of them. As I lit the last candle on the small table beside the bed, I noticed an old phone connected to a small speaker. Finding that the phone didn’t have a password, I opened it and hit play on the playlist that showed up first, smiling at the title: music that makes strangers fall into my bed.

I chuckled to myself. Not so professional, sweetheart.

Typical spa music filled the small space, and I couldn’t lie, it did add to the meditative atmosphere of the room. Looking at the massage table in the middle of the room, I remembered what I was actually in there for and felt a wave of excitement hit me. I hadn’t been lying when I told her that my back had been hurting — not exactly, at least — but I had definitely been exaggerating. The truth was, I just really wanted to see what her hands could do. Not wanting to waste any more time, I took of my clothes and climbed onto the table, slipping my lower half under the thin white sheet.

“Y/n!” I shouted, “I’m all set!”

Y/n’s POV:

From my place at the kitchen counter, I heard Chris’s voice and my stomach did a flip. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, I had given a few of my other friends massages before, but for some reason I had been dreading the idea of giving one to Chris. Maybe it was because him and I had such a playful relationship, and I was so used to being professional with my clients, I couldn’t quite envision how combining my two personalities would go. Still, I took a deep breath and headed for the room.

Once I opened the door, I noticed the candles were lit and soft music was already playing. Looking at Chris, laying face down on the table, I chuckled. “I see you made yourself comfortable.” I remarked. Heading towards him, I noticed the pile of his clothes on the floor, including his sweats and boxers. “Uh Chris,” I began, stopping at the top of his head, “I said you only had to take off your shirt, remember?” He lifted his head from the table, looking up at me briefly. “I know. It’s just that the pain goes pretty low down my back and I figured it would be easier to just take everything off.” There was a playful look in his eyes. “It’s what I’ve seen them do in the movies.” He added softly, making me chuckle.

“It does make it easier,” I replied, moving so that I was now standing on his right side. “It’s really just about what you’re comfortable with.” As I spoke, I began running my hands down his back, from his shoulders down to his tail bone, to check for any tightness. He remained silent underneath me as I applied pressure on certain areas. “So, you said right here is sore?” I asked, pressing down on the same spot that he had when demonstrating on me. I heard a muffled hiss and watched as he nodded his head. “And the pain kind of shoots down to here.” He added, awkwardly moving his arm behind him and trailing it from where my thumb was down to just below the white sheet.

I hummed in acknowledgment, pumping the bottle of massage oil beside me and rubbing it in my hands. “Okay, I’ll get started. Let me know if the pressure is too much.” I said the same thing that I said to all of my clients robotically, before working against his muscle. It was pretty tight, but definitely not as bad as he was making it seem before on the couch. Like I do with my other clients, I stayed silent to encourage him to relax against my pressure. A few groans of pain fell from his lips as I worked, but he encouraged me to keep going each time I asked if he was okay.

I noticed him shuffle a few times under the sheet. “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked him softly, wondering if maybe the massage table was too hard. “N-no, I’m fine.” Was his reply, and even though there was a slightly panicked edge to his voice, I took his word for it and continued working my hands lower down on his back. I felt my cheeks grow hot as my hands pulled the white sheet lower to gain access to his pain. I had never seen this much of Chris’s body before, and even though I was trying to be professional, I felt like the act was a little too intimate.

I rushed to finish up, and after about fifteen minutes I was satisfied that the knot in his back had improved. “Alright, I think I’m done. Want to flip onto your back for me?” I asked, pulling the sheet up slightly. “W-why?” Chris asked, his tone filled with alarm. “I usually finish every session with a neck massage. Sometimes the neck gets stiff from the way it lays when you’re on your stomach.” I replied. “Oh, uh, it’s okay.” He replied, refusing to move. I rolled my eyes. “What? Not even 30 minutes ago you were begging me for a massage, and now you’re turning it down?” I crossed my arms and moved over to his head, “Come on, turn over. It won’t take long.” I reassured him.

He sighed, and, holding onto the edge of the sheet, slowly turned over. I stifled a gasp, because between his legs, the thin white sheet had tented, and I could clearly see the outline of his erection. I was thrown off, unable to take my eyes away from it, but quickly recovered — clearing my throat and dropping my eyes to his face. His eyes were still closed and his cheeks were flushed; I could tell he was embarrassed. In a normal circumstance, I would think that I would have made a joke about it, and he would have just told me to shut up. But at that moment, there was something so real about his exposure and humiliation, and so I knew that I would just ignore it.

I began massaging his neck, trying to focus on my actions and regain my professionalism. But, I couldn’t stop looking at the white sheet; it being the only thing between his cock and my eyes. I could tell that it was huge, and I watched as it grew harder and harder as I continued working his neck. It went from standing straight up and wobbling in the air as Chris breathed, to being pressed right against his front. The sheet draped around it, perfectly outlining its girth, and I could see a small bead of dampness taint the sheet a translucent shade of white at its tip. My mouth watered and my mind wandered. I felt my own body begin to react to the sight in front of me, and the tension in the room began to grow so heavy that I began to gasp for air.

“I-is the pressure okay?” I asked, doing my very best to keep my voice strong as I worked his neck. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously before nodding his head. “It’s good, Y/n.” His reply was so simple, but there was something about the gruff undertone, the almost indiscriminate breathlessness as he said my name, that caused my knees to weaken and my throat to turn into a desert. Suddenly, I could no longer hear the soft music playing throughout the room as my blood pumped deafeningly in my ears. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his bulge for more than a few seconds at a time — it seemed so hard that it had to be painful. My eyes continued to flutter between his flushed face and pulsing member until suddenly, when my eyes returned to his face, his bright blue eyes were wide open and staring right at me.

I felt a new wave of heat crawl up my face at the fact that I had just been caught red-handed staring at the one thing in this room that both of us had been actively ignoring. I opened my mouth to attempt to explain myself, but his words beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” He murmured sheepishly, his face turning the same shade of red that I imagined mine to be as he squeezed his eyes shut. Immediately, I began shaking my head rapidly. Partially as a reassurance to him and partially as an attempt at erasing the last two minutes of my life. “No! Don’t be sorry. It happens all the time.” I rushed out, doing my best to make light of the situation. “No it doesn’t.” He replied flatly, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. I forced a chuckle. “Okay fine, it doesn’t happen all the time. But its not not normal.” I tried again, brushing a soft curl out of his face.

Chris was silent for a moment, his eyes still squeezed shut in either embarrassment or concentration. I had stopped massaging his neck, but my hands were still on his damp skin; my thumbs drawing gentle circles against his rapid pulse. After a moment, an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. “It won’t go away.” He said, his voice laced with genuine disgust. “I’m sorry Y/n, this is creepy.” A forced laugh, then another sigh.

The room fell silent again as I tried to find the right words to fill the space. Words that would reassure him more genuinely than more “it’s okay’s”. Because, from the way my pulse had quickened, and from the way my core had grown so slick from arousal that I could feel it dripping steadily onto my panties, it really was okay. It was more than okay. So, instead of trying to find the words that could possibly portray just how okay it was, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

I felt him tense at the first brush of my lips against his, clearly shocked by the sudden close proximity of our mouths; closer than they had ever been before. So, I pulled away for a moment, finding his piercing eyes to search them for whatever thought is running in his mind. They were wild, racing across my face trying to make sense of what just happened. But there was something else there, something erotic that was blurring the line between right and wrong. Between professionalism and spontaneity. Between friends that fuck around and friends that fuck. I could tell that we were both balancing on that same fine line, but when I brought my lips back down to his, and when he opened his mouth to welcome mine with the kind of hunger than can never be satiated, I knew that we both came to the same conclusion.

Our lips moulded together in rhythmic wonder as our tongues explored each other. Immediately, I felt his body relax as his hands reached up and wrapped themselves in my hair. A soft moan of satisfaction fell from his lips as I nibbled on his bottom lip, causing my body to react in a way that was foreign to me. I felt goosebumps raise up across my skin as if his hands were all over it. He pulled his lips from mine and used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side, giving his swollen lips access to my neck. He sucked and nibbled against my electric skin just below my ear, and I felt as though I could fall apart and dissolve into a puddle just from that. “L-let me make you feel better.” I managed to moan out through the waves of pleasure I was feeling. My eyes wouldn’t leave the rock hard bulge under the white sheet, just barely out of my reach. Chris groaned against my neck at my words, and I watched as his cock twitched under the sheet as if it heard my words itself and was begging me to help it.

After another moment of Chris devouring my neck, tasting every inch of it as if he couldn’t get enough, his grip on my hair loosened and he allowed me to straighten up. I looked down at his face, now even more flushed than before. His lips had gone bright pink and were so beautifully swollen from their journey against my skin. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and, after a short moment, his eyes fluttered open and landed on me. “You sure you want to do this?” He asked, his voice slightly tentative, and I knew what he meant.

A kiss between friends is one thing. It can be brushed off as a slight moment of weakness, can be something that the two friends can one day laugh about as they look back on their friendship. It can be never spoken of again, can be hidden from their other friends deep in the vault of the minds of the two people that shared it. But anything more than that, any other touching, or licking, or exploring of the other person is not as easily ignorable. In friendships there is deep love and strong understanding of the other person. Once that love and understanding collides with the act of literally merging together, of being as physically close to another that you can be in this lifetime, it’s not so easy to ignore. My mind may not be able to shut out the events that transpire with Chris tonight ever again. We may never be able to chalk it all up to a moment of weakness, or keep it a secret from our mutual friends. We may never have the same friendship we had before I agreed to this massage. But there is no way to know that for sure. What I did know for sure in that moment, with Chris staring up at me with eyes filled with intoxicating desire, with my own body vibrating with lust, was that I wanted this.

So without a word, I walked down his body towards his beckoning cock. I took a moment to just gaze at it, closer to it now than I had been all night. I rested a hand on his thigh hidden beneath the sheet, and watched as his cock once again twitched. I chewed on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep myself from moaning just from the sight, and after a moment let my eyes flutter back up to his face. “I’m sure Chris.” I replied softly, searching his expression. “Are you?” I asked, realizing that he was likely considering the same potential outcome that I had been. He kept my gaze for a brief moment, his eyes focusing on different parts of my face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He replied finally, a cheeky smile growing on his face. I felt my own expression mirror his own, and without wasting another second I began peeling the thin sheet down his waist.

My smile fell the moment his bare cock was finally exposed, and was replaced by what I knew was the expression of desperate hunger. His length was impressively long, and I felt my mouth water at the thought of running my tongue along its veins up to its swollen head. Reaching to my left, I pumped some massage oil into my hand. I brought my cupped hand above his upright cock and let the oil drip between my fingers and coat him. He released a sharp hiss at the feeling of the oil as it trailed down his length towards his base, and I watched as his hips thrust forward desperately from the barely-there contact. A bead of pre-cum suddenly dripped from his slit, and I used my thumb to collect it before finally pumping my hand up and down his shaft. Immediately, a deep moan fell from Chris’s lips as I worked his oiled cock in my hand. I focused on his body language as I adjusted my movements to figure out exactly what he needed to feel good.

When I went slow, I watched his breath grow steady, telling me that I should pick up the pace. When I used a softer touch as I moved along his cock his hands would stay relaxed at his side, but I knew he liked it when I used a bit more pressure along his tip as his hands would tighten into fists against the sheet. But when I used both hands, twisting in opposite directions with the occasional brush against his balls with my pinky, I discovered that was what he liked most of all. A deep grunt followed by a moan fell from his lips, and his right hand flew to my upper thigh; where he gripped so hard I was sure that he would leave a bruise. “Fuck, Y/n.” He breathed out as I continued with these movements.

His hand traveled further and further up my leg until his fingers slipped under my loose-fitting shorts. I continued to stroke him with both hands, even when I felt the tip of his fingers just milimetres from my trembling core. They brushed against the ever-so-soft place between my pelvis and my pussy, and I bit back a moan. Subconsciously, I adjusted myself so that my legs were wider apart; giving him access to touch even more of me. My hands continued to work his cock as his fingers inched closer and closer, before finally, I felt the very tip of just one of his fingers reach my core and dip into its warmth. My knees buckled at the barely-there contact just as he released a muffled moan. “Jesus fuck, Y/n,” My eyes flew to his face and the translucent arousal that I found all across it was almost enough to push me over the edge. “Put that on my face right fucking now.”

His demand was so jarring, his voice so gritty and raw, that I didn’t hesitate before peeling my shorts down my legs, lifting myself onto the massage chair, and straddling his face. Immediately, his hands gripped onto my thighs and pulled them apart; giving his eyes untethered access to my glistening core. “You’re fucking soaked.” His words came out in an almost-whisper, as if he hadn’t actively planned on speaking them aloud. Still, they shot straight to my lust and I leaned forward, resting my head against his chest to allow him to see even more of me.

I gasped as I felt his thumb against my slit, collecting my arousal. I heard a wet sound and then another deep moan. “So good.” He whispered before suddenly his warm mouth was suctioned to my clit. Immediately, I dissolved into a puddle of desire as his tongue swirled and licked against my sensitive bundle of nerves. Moans fell from my lips as my brain turned to mush from the relief of finally having his mouth on me. I began moving my hips against his face, chasing a high that I so desperately needed. Satisfied moans slipped from his mouth into me, and I felt a sharp slap against my ass cheek that added to my intense need.

I had turned into nothing more than a dead weight on top of him, his lethal tongue paralyzing me. But as I opened my mouth to release a guttural moan, I felt my lip brush against the tip of his cock. Without a second thought, I slipped his cock into my mouth and began pumping up and down. Another moan fell from Chris, vibrating against my clit and causing me to moan around his girth. “Fuck.” Chris muttered against me, and I responded by deep throating his cock until my nose pressed against his bare thigh. “Mmmm, Y/n.” Chris breathed, removing his mouth from my clit. I stopped my movements as well, waiting on shaky legs for him to continue.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” He began, gently running his knuckles against my ass cheek. “And I don’t want to do that yet.” He slipped two fingers into my core effortlessly, causing me to immediately begin rocking against them. “Mmm. Thatta girl.” He breathed, presumably watching for a moment as I rode his fingers just inches above his face. “What I want you to do is focus on making a mess all over my face, then after that I want to cum with these tight walls wrapped around me.” His words caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head, and a sharp moan fell from my lips. “Sound good?” He asked, his voice muffled as he reattached his mouth to my throbbing clit. I nodded my head maniacally as he resumed his impressive movements against my nerves. He kept his fingers inside of me, and as I slid my soaked cunt against his face, I cried out at the added sensation of his fingers filling me.

“Fuck C-Chris.” I moaned, my words nearly incomprehensible as I grew closer and closer to my climax. He could tell that I was quickly approaching, and tightened his grip on my ass cheek with his free hand; pressing my cunt so hard against his face I was afraid that he would suffocate. “G-gonna cum!” I warned him just before the tumultuous waves of my orgasm took over. My body began shaking as I came hard against his face. I had never before felt so out of control of my own body, and relished in the feeling as my back arched and a plethora of moans fell from my mouth. I felt a gush as I squirted against Chris’s mouth, and trembled at the guttural moan he released as he began lapping me up.

Once my mind reattached to my body and my orgasm had finishing ripping through me, I rested my head against his stomach as he ran his hands along my tense back and dropped gentle kisses against my sensitive core. He let me lie there on top of him for a few moments, catching my breath and slowing my heart rate, before gently lifting my limp body off of him and sliding off of the massage table. I sat up on the edge of the table, facing his standing figure before me, and my gaze landed on his excruciatingly hard cock. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head up before pressing his wet lips harshly against mine. He tasted like me, and immediately a new wave of arousal filled my core.

As his tongue flicked into my mouth, I reached between our bodies and began stroking his cock. He thrusted into my hand instinctively, and a moan fell from his lips as his hand shot to my core where he drew torturously slow circles against my over-stimulated clit. Caught up in how good we were making the other feel, our kissing slowed and our mouths eventually turned into matching O’s; eyes shut in pure bliss. I dropped my forehead against his bare chest, and watched as our hands worked on the other’s body, slowly working up the nerve to do the one thing we hadn’t yet done with each other.

“You still want to do this?” Chris asked, his voice strained. I jolted slightly at his words, shocked at the fact that he seemed to be reading my mind. A sharp wave of pleasure hit me from his fingers and I moaned softly before looking back up at him. “Mhmm.” I breathed, meaning it. “Do you?” I asked in return as I felt his cock jump in my hand. “So much.” He replied before lowering his head and planting another deep, wet kiss against my mouth. After a moment, he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. He took a moment to admire my bare chest before kissing each of my painfully pebbled nipples. “God, you’re unreal Y/n.” He moaned, running firm hands against my completely naked frame. I arched my back against his touch and shut my eyes blissfully.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along my collar bone. “You ready?” He asked. I felt his hand replace mine on his shaft, and bit my lip as I felt him line the head up with my soaked core. He used his free hand to hold firmly onto my lower back, and I wrapped my legs around his waist; using the grip to press him against me. “I’m ready.” I replied breathlessly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. Without wasting a second, Chris kept his glazed eyes on mine as he slowly pressed his hips into me. My jaw dropped as his girth stretched my walls out further than I thought possible, and the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that can not truly be described with words turned my brain into mush.

Chris hissed as he bottomed out in me, his cock taking up every inch of my cunt. He remained still as he rested his forehead against mine, his breath erratic and hitched. “Fuck.” He finally groaned out, his body more tense than I’d ever seen it. “You okay?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck. He nodded. “I’m gonna cum in, like, record speed here Y/n.” He replied, taking deep breaths and keeping his forehead pressed to mine. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s okay Chris,” I replied, running my hands through his hair. “Just give me what you’ve got.”

My last seductive whisper seemed to give him the motivation to power through, because immediately he snapped his hips into me. I released a sharp moan from the depth of his movements, and that was enough to bring him fully back into it. Using the grip he had on my lower back, he plowed into me relentlessly. My eyes were rolled into the back of my head as I felt my walls stretch with each thrust; allowing him to hit my g-spot each time. “Jesus!” I cried out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at holding onto my sanity.

“You’re so f-fucking tight.” Chris groaned into my shoulder as he continued to drive his ruthless cock into me. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other, adding to the indescribable arousal I was filled with. Chris’s hands began travelling all across my body, taking his time on my tits as his thumbs drew circles around my hardened nipples. He gave my tits a harsh squeeze before travelling down my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin as he reached my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his thrusts. “God, keep going baby.” I moaned, wrapping my legs even tighter around Chris’s waist, “F-feels s-so good!” I cried just as Chris lifted me up off the table and slammed me into the wall. I released a sharp gasp from the shock, but as he continued pounding into me, my pleasure was intensified.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Chris growled as he nibbled against the skin on my neck. “You always this fucking wet?” His dirty words make my head spin. “N-no. I’m n-not.” I reply honestly, feeling my juices spread all over his front. A wicked smile covers his face. “Just for me then, huh?” His tone was arrogant, but there was an undertone of overwhelming arousal in it that told me he needed it to be true. I nodded my head rapidly. “Y-yes Chris! O-only this wet f-for y-you.” I managed to reply just before my second orgasm swept in and overtook me.

Just as I began riding my high — my nails digging into his skin and my mouth sputtering out profanities — Chris stilled inside of me and released a ragged “Oh fuck!”. I felt his cock pulse inside of me, painting my walls with his warm seed as my orgasm milked him dry. He released soft grunts against my neck as he rode through his own high, and I relished in the feeling of his cum as it dripped from my cunt.

After a while, both of our bodies relaxed and we rested against one another as we caught our breath. I waited for the overwhelming feeling of regret to wash over me, as one would expect it to after fucking your best friend, but it never came. In fact, I was so relaxed in that post-sex liminal space, pressed against the wall with Chris’s softening cock resting in my core, that I almost couldn’t believe that we had never done that before.

I was pulled from that thought by Chris placing a deeply passionate kiss to my lips. There was no lust, no untethered desire attached to it; it was almost as though this kiss was the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of a new, more exciting one. Our lips moved in slow motion, as if we had kissed like this a thousand times. With his lips still on mine, Chris slowly helped me down so my feet were on the ground. After another moment of our mouths merged as one, I pulled away and was immediately wrapped in a hug. Chris’s warm body felt so familiar, even more familiar than before, and I closed my eyes and took in the moment, as I knew it was the start of something new.

“Well, I think we have some things we should figure out,” Chris said, and I felt a soft chuckle against my head tucked into his chest. “Because I don’t know about you, but there is no way I can go the rest of my life without doing that again.” It was my turn to laugh, and I pulled myself out of his arms and looked up at his face. “I think I am officially under your spell.” I replied, feigning a smile. “Let’s go sit down and figure this all out.” I grabbed my discarded shirt and threw it over my head before walking towards my living room. “Oh by the way Y/n,” Chris grabbed me by my waist from behind as we walked through the door, “My back feels great now, in case you were curious.” I rolled my eyes with a smile and continued walking. “You have magical hands.” He whispered, and all I could do was laugh and give him a half-hearted shove.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[syefiles]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: bf nagi w a big d ! 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: height difference, cumming inside (no condom), dom and sub nagi, blowjob, reader has a pussy, usage of spit as lube. let me know if there's anything i missed ! 𝐚/𝐧: hiyaa ! my requests are open for thirsts, fic ideas etc. ‹𝟹 [] also im pretty sure there's someone else that wrote this already but i wanted to share my take on my fav boy on the entire show ^_^

nagi loves using his height against you. whether it be using it to tease you or using it to overpower you when he's pounding into you mercilessly with his cock.

safe to say, he loves both. all of that height matched his cock. his cock is thick but doesn't lack in length. your mouth never fails to water whenever you suck him off, his deep moans and praises always have you trembling for more. he lets out thick and hot ropes of cum on your pretty face, and he loves seeing you lick it all off of yourself afterward. ''look so pretty 'f me, angel.''

the most rewarding is him letting you on top. even though nagi loves being on top, always manhandling you and throwing you into the positions he wants, he doesn't mind laying down and making you do all of the work for a change.

he loves seeing your tits bounce, and how crazy you go when you first sink down on his big cock after a long time. ''take it- take it like a good girl.'' your eyes roll back and your hands shake from the stretch. you'll never get used to his dick bullying into your wet pussy, always making you feel heavenly whenever he thrusts inside whenever you feel weak.

though he is a lazy person, his stamina never falters when it comes to him fucking you. his hips snap back and forth, fully forcing in his thick cock inside of you, while his big hands worked magic on your tits.

''fuck, always so tight and wet for me.'' he didn't need spit as lube when he enters, but right when after you make him cum by giving him head, he slides in so easily inside, knowing that's where it's rightful place is.

''yeah? you love my cock huh? my naughty girl.'' he praises, his cock hitting your spot repeatedly, while his free hand rubbed circles on your clit. your moans were loud, it was a string of words that didn't even make sense anymore.

''n-nagi fuck—i'm cumming-'' you blurt out, as your mind spins while you cum on his cock, he thrusts his cock fully inside, letting his cum spurt freely inside of you.

nagi didn't like clean sex. he wanted his cum all over your face, your boobs, hickeys all over each other, and bite marks here and there. but, he knew it would be a pain in the ass cleaning up after.

©adourly 5/11/2024 - do not copy, translate, modify my works.

[genderqueerdykes]

Thank you for your “cishet looking men” post. I’m a trans lesbian who was hyper femme for many years but now feel at home being butch. I also had to go back in the closet for grad school. My wife is a lesbian, and I’m constantly grieving no longer being seen as a lesbian couple. Everyone thinks I’m a straight man. It’s especially painful in queer spaces. I fear that people look at me with suspicion and disgust, and I know it affects my wife as well (the whole “don’t bring your bf to Chappell Roan” thing). Worse still, for many reasons I don’t know when I’ll ever be able to be fully out again… my wife supports and reassures me wholeheartedly, but it hurts so much sometimes. Anyway, your post (and entire blog) has been really healing for me. I cant thank you enough.

hey im really glad to hear i could've helped you- you are literally the exact type of person im thinking about first and foremost when it comes to talking about why people should NOT assume a "cishet looking man" IS a cishet man.

i'm so sorry that people view you as a straight man just because you've had to return to the closet in the past, and now feel more comfortable identifying as butch. no one should force the idea that you're in a straight relationship on to you- you're not. it doesn't matter if someone has been out for 1 second or 10 years- a trans woman who "looks like a cishet man" is still a trans woman. why are people so willing to throw trans women who don't pass under the bus?

people just don't care about pre- and never transition trans women. people don't take the time to realize some trans women just do not want to transition. people don't take the time to care about trans women who already see their bodies as women's bodies and don't want to change anything about them. people don't give a shit about the fact that trans women have to boymode or go back into the closet for safety reasons. and people especially don't care about trans lesbians who are being assumed to be cishet men. this is what terfs do, can we stop doing this to our own?

like... this is all transmisogyny. does nobody on this planet care anymore that this behavior is transmisogynstic? like i'm happy to break it to everyone, but assuming every person you meet who looks a certain way is 100% without a doubt a cishet man is transmisogynistic. this is straight up erasing transfeminine experiences. policing people by their bodies and what queer spaces they can exist in is fascist behavior

i'm so sorry that you can't be out right now. you should NOT be facing this type of treatment from within your own community. i really can't stand people who assume every person they meet who looks a certain way is definitely 100% a cishet man. you literally just don't know by looking at a stranger. and especially with how dangerous it is to be out as a trans woman, why are we putting trans women through this? you shouldn't have to jump through hoops in the queer community in order to be seen as queer. plus, this behavior completely leaves out questioning transfems and women, like. transfems and women get to question, too. many trans women were men at one point and they shouldn't have to feel alienated for it.

i hope things improve for you soon- thanks for taking the time to send this message. if you need any more help feel free to come back any time, you deserve to feel like who you really are, and not who other people are assuming you are.

[yawnderu]

oh god hi your requests are open!!;; im nervous about asking lbkldfkvlbd i do this for the first time ever but i would actually kill for something with horangi from you. maybe he's a tiger hybrid and it's mating season or something?? or just fluff. my little heart would be overjoyed either way,,,, thank you bkpskdskc

hii love don't be nervous!! I'M nervous about writing this bc I've never written hybrids until that request JHBKFEEFJHBK I hope I'm doing them justice!!

Horangi is a mess. His clothes are sticking to his sweat-covered body, feeling hot all over. Nothing is ever good enough, even when his hand is wrapped tightly around his cock, disgusting thoughts of you flashing all over his mind. It's enough to make him hard, but not enough to make him cum.

It's almost torture, the way he's unwillingly edging himself as lewd, deep growls boom out of his throat while he strokes his painfully hard cock, his free hand fumbling with his heavy balls. It's not good enough to make him cum— nothing will ever be good enough until he's fucking your warm, wet cunt, so he gives up, hesitantly tucking his cock back in his boxers, face scrunching up in pain at the feeling of the fabric tightly holding him.

''Hong-jin?'' Your voice feels like music to his ears in the desperate state he's in, immediately getting up and opening the door, pulling you inside so fast you almost fall.

''You good?'' A small giggle escapes your lips at his desperation as he closes the door behind him, strong arms wrapping around you from behind as he rubs his cock against your ass.

''Need you.'' He whispers right into your ear, almost sighing in content when you nod your head. This entire thing has happened before— you ''help'' him during mating cycles and in exchange, you get good dick. That's really all it took.

His claws are quick to rip off the fabric covering your ass and before you can protest at the now destroyed clothes, his cock is lining up to your cunt, spreading your wetness all over his thick tip before he's slowly sinking into you. Your head tilts forward as you feel the stretch, a small gasp escaping your lips once he fully bottoms out. He isn't that long, but his cock is fat.

It doesn't take long for Horangi to start thrusting into you, his strong arms holding yours behind your back for leverage as he moved faster and deeper, low growls coming out of him at the sensation of your tight cunt wrapping around his fat cock, fitting him so perfectly.

''I'm sorry—'' He knows he isn't going to last long, not when your cunt is practically begging for his cum, sucking him back in every single time he pulls out to thrust deeper. His hold on your arms grows tighter as he pushes all the way into your cunt, images of your belly swollen with his babies fill his head and he can't keep going any longer, a mix of deep groans and growls coming out of his lips as he begins shooting ropes of thick cum right into your fertile womb.

''I'm sorry.'' He apologizes again, face buried on the back of your neck as he takes deep breaths, his cock still inside you to keep his cum in.

[mm-lurking]

MAY I REQUEST FOR ANGST POOKS 😘😝 MYBE ABT BRINGING UP THEIR DEAD EX BY ACCIDENT DURING AN ARGUEMENT? THERES RARELY ANY ANGST IM GETTING MAD 👹

I saw your ask at 11 pm and something about the way you wrote your request made me giggle so hard idk why 🤣 Since you demand angst I shall give it to you. You’re my first ask btw so thank you very much! 

I’m not sure which character you wanted me to write for so I’m going to go for Blade and Aventurine. Though feel free to send me specific characters through the ask again!

Warnings: no fluff at all, pure angst, fem! reader and ex, reader has no chill running her mouth, Aventurine’s kinda feels ooc sorry about that WC: 1881

Blade

You were a hair’s breadth away from being gravely injured. If it weren’t for Blade’s interruption you would have been Antimatter Legion dinner tonight. In your eyes you weren’t in that much danger, you knew you could handle it on your own but in Blade’s eyes, it was just another flashback to how he lost her. It felt frustrating to watch him downplay your capabilities, it's not like you were some weak damsel in distress. There was a reason your relations with the Stellaron Hunters had lasted as far as it had; you were good at wielding your weapon and making good use of the enemy’s weaknesses. Sure there were moments when you were in trouble but you never really got to live the thrill of it because Blade would always step in to help you even when you didn’t ask for it. 

You loved him dearly and appreciated his assistance but just for this instance, you wanted to deal with things by yourself. Ultimately your agitation got the best of you and so now here you were with your arms crossed, glaring at Blade after the enemy was taken care of.

“Have you always been this foolish?”

You stare at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, questioning his audacity of insulting you like this.

“Excuse me?”

“You could have gotten hurt.”

He says matter-of-factly and you feel your jaws clench at the way he speaks to you.

“Blade I am fully capable of looking after myself! I need you to stop interrupting my fights!”

“If I didn’t that Antimatter Legion pawn would have sliced your head off your shoulders.”

“And how the hell do you know that was going to happen?! I could have fought it easily if it weren’t for you!”

He turns around and looks at you with cold eyes which make you flinch momentarily.

“You overestimate yourself.”

“I do not! I have worked relentlessly on my skills! I know what I can handle or what I can’t! You just never allow me to prove it!”

“You are a fool. I do not need to see you pushed to your limits to acknowledge your skills.”

“Then why the hell won’t you let me do what I want?!”

You both argue back and forth with neither of you backing down. Blade speaks calmly, just as he always has but with slight frustration whereas you on the other hand are full-on yelling and boiling over to the point of rage. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“I am just looking out for you-”

“I am not weak like Chun. Stop treating me like I am.”

You almost immediately regret it the moment those words leave your mouth. Your words are sharp and bitter, and pierce his heart like a blade slashing through flesh. His eyes are ablaze with fury and pain and the way his jaw clenches is enough to let you know you have overstepped your boundary.

Chun was his first love. She was a good woman with a kind heart, and despite how odd she looked amongst the Stellaron Hunters, they welcomed her as long as it made Blade happy. But in a world full of evil, being kind is a weakness and ultimately she met her end in the hands of an enemy during heated negotiations. For the one whose life was already cursed by immortality, he took her death hard and swore never to love again, for he couldn’t bear to witness yet another loved one depart for the nth time in his long life. His already broken heart took ages to heal and by the time you crossed paths with him, he was still grieving over her. You knew this very well because it was you who assured him that history wouldn’t repeat itself with you. It was you who helped him heal further and gave him the confidence to open his heart up once more to you. You knew what she meant to him because he had been honest with you about his past yet-

“Blade I-”

-here you were driving the very knife you had taken out of him so lovingly back into his heart in full force. He looks at you with so much despise and agony that your heart hurts knowing you are the cause for it. A blade being stabbed over and over into his body hurt, but those wounds always healed after a while. Yet the wound your words had caused was one that no medication could fix. Your throat tightens and you want to reach out to him and hold him but you stay glued to your feet.

“We don’t need to be around each other anymore.”

Despite the torment he feels, he looks straight into your eyes and monotonously speaks. There is not even a single moment spared for you to reply as he walks out of the room and slams the door shut, indicating he is done with you. The door closing was not just the end of the argument you both were having, it was also the end of what you were to each other. You stand there rooted to the ground as tears sting your eyes. Why did you have to be like this?

Aventurine

“Aventurine I swear to god I am not playing your petty games again.”

You angrily huff as you cross your arms and glare at Aventurine with disapproval. The audacity of this man was truly something, especially at a time like this. You both were stuck in an interesting situation, where Aventurine had made a gamble with an enemy territory and he wanted you to be part of it. More precisely, he wanted to turn you into his bargaining chip for a while. There was one tiny problem. He wasn’t asking for your approval, he had already made the deal.

“The table has already been set, friend. You just have to play your role real well.”

Your jaw hangs low when you realise what he has done. 

“Aventurine don’t tell me….”

“They have decided to ask for you in exchange of information. Do not worry, I will find a way to-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as a loud slap resonates across the room. You stare at him in disbelief with tears welling your eyes, unable to process what he has done. A shaky sigh leaves his mouth and he stares at you, bewildered by your behaviour.

“It hasn’t even been a full week since we finished another deal and you want me to jump head-on into another one?!”

“Was there a need to slap me like this? If you’re forgetting, friend, you agreed to help me out on these deals regardless of the risk. Or should I have the doctor examine your memory?”

“Aventurine I agreed to help you out, not be used however you please! You could have at least asked me first before making the deal!”

You rub your temples and rethink the entire situation through. Your relationship with Aventurine was compatible due to one simple fact: you both loved taking risks. The thrill of the gamble and the adrenaline of waiting for the results kept you both alive. It was the drug you both needed in this cruel unjust world.

But this, this was different. This wasn’t just any gamble and it wasn’t a small one either. Being traded off to the enemy territory for a few weeks was no easy task and you have no idea what the hell Aventurine was thinking. In your last deal, you barely made it out alive as the tables turned against your favour. It was a miracle your assets weren’t taken and that you weren’t killed in the process.

“…I promise you will be fine, friend.”

Tears sting your eyes and you try to take a deep breath. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“The gaiaithra triclops blesses me abundantly. We will not lose.”

“Is that what you said to Lilac as well before her demise?”

You hear how his breath hitches in his throat at the mention of Lilac. He coughs a little and then stares at you with a look you cannot decipher.

“Do not bring her up.”

His voice is a mere whisper and you know you’re crossing some lines already. Yet you don’t stop there. You jab your right index finger into his chest with every word you speak.

“I don’t know what’s worse, being a gambling chip on purpose or being a gambling chip unknowingly, like she was.”

He grips the hand you have on his chest tightly. You can’t help but wince a little at how he’s looking at you with red eyes filled with regret and anger. He tries to speak but you cut him off.

“Was losing her not enough to learn your lesson? Or do you turn everyone you love into pawns of your game?”

“You’re crossing the line now.”

He warns and you shake your head.

“You treat everyone like an asset, even the ones who truly love you without any hidden agenda. No wonder you couldn’t save Lilac-“

“Enough!”

Before you can process what is going on Aventurine pulls out a gun from his inner coat pocket and shoots a random vase on the table behind you. The bang of the gun and the loud shattering of the ceramic into pieces makes you jump and shake a little. He then shifts his gaze on you and lets your hand go before issuing his warning.

“…you need to leave. Leave before I accidentally hurt you.”

“I-“

“I said leave!”

He points the gun at you. His hand is shaking in a manner you have never seen before and you can tell he doesn’t want to do this but you’re giving him no choice. You stare at him for a moment and nod your head before scurrying away.

Once you’re out of his sight he plops onto the nearest sofa and drops his gun. It lands with a loud thud as he puts his head into his hands and shakes visibly. Flashbacks of that dreaded day start to play over and over in his head and he clenches his teeth as a tear rolls down his eye.

Lilac was a woman he met during one of his travels as an IPC stoneheart. They got along pretty well and eventually fell in love. A few years ago, Aventurine asked her for help during a deal he made and she agreed only for the other party to target her as leverage against Aventurine. He still remembers the pain in her eyes as she looked at him, confused and hurt from how she became the target. He remembers holding her in his arms apologising over and over for his lack of foresight, unable to figure out where he went wrong.

It was the first and last deal he ever lost. And now you, his new partner after several hard years of grief, were bringing up old wounds that never healed. Gaps of his heart that nothing would ever fill. Another tear rolls down his eye as he grits his teeth further. Had he known you would bring her up like this, he would have never told you about her. It’s always the closest ones that hurt you the most. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[fluffy-dixon]

Okay but Daryl holding his son or daughter for the first time...I need this prompt done!

Anon, this is for you.

Daryl holding his new born son.

Our Boy

You watched as Daryl cradled your newborn son. His fingers traced the delicate curve of the baby’s cheek, the baby’s eyes, wide and searching, locked onto Daryl’s—a gentle coo from the baby as he looked up at his father. For a man who had faced the horrors of the undead, this vulnerability was uncharted territory. Yet, here he was, heart on sleeve.

Although you hadn’t fully recovered from the birth, you were still in excruciating amounts of pain, but the sight before your eyes of Daryl cradling your boy in his arms was enough to numb the pain. Walking over silently to his side, you rested your head against his shoulder, gently rubbing his back with your free hand. You could feel him trembling beneath your touch.

Baby stirred, his tiny hand reaching out towards your husband’s face. Daryl adjusted his hold, cradling the baby against his chest. The weight of responsibility settled upon him—the promise to protect, to guide, to be more than just a survivor but a better father than his own was ever to him.

You could see tears starting to build up in his eyes. He blinked them back, unwilling to let them fall. But his voice cracked when he spoke, raw and unfiltered.

Daryl: “Look at ‘im, darlin’. Our boy.”

His thumb brushed the baby’s cheek, to which he responded with a flutter of eyelids and a cheeky smile.

You leaned in, pressing your lips to Daryl’s temple.

Y/N: I know, I love you.

Your voice was thick with emotion. He nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from his son. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in, until it was just the three of them—their little sanctuary in a world gone mad, surrounded by the remnants of a broken world.

Daryl: I’m going to be the best daddy to you, I promise. I will never, EVER let you down.

Now the tears fell freely from his eyes. Turning to him, you reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes, tracing your hand up into his ragged hair. You gently pulled his face down to yours, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

Daryl: I love you both so much.

Now a blubbering mess, he rested his head against yours, encircling his free arm around your waist, pulling you closer into his embrace, with your little bundle of joy cocooned between the two of you.

[dollescent]

𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

08/04/23

so, i was in sleep paralysis (keep in mind i have sleep paralysis with my eyes open always), and i wasn’t panicked or anything because I’ve been experiencing sleep paralysis since i was like 10 (it doesn’t happen really frequently anymore though). so i was honestly just thinking to myself, "should i try to LD or AP?" so i tried to AP and it wasn’t working for me (for some reason i was in pain??), so instead, i decided to try and shift. also i had never even considered the SP method for shifting before so this was all so crazy to me.

so for some background, i was previously having a dream where i was running away from something but i felt myself entering SP and I could barely move in the dream. so i wanted to shift to a reality where i was able to run away. so i started to visualize myself running in a 3rd person POV. and it was crazy because i have aphantasia, so i usually don’t see anything when i visualize but this time i literally was able to!!

this was so trippy too. but i visualized myself zooming into myself that was running, and began to visualize in first person. once i did, i was going through a “tunnel” with red and black lights. i cannot describe it and i was kind of scared but yes y’all, i shifted with my eyes open!!

so i just keep on affirming that I’m shifting and once I get to the end of the tunnel, my eyes in my DR were already slightly open but they widened when i fully shifted there, but my vision was a bit blurry (i could tell that i was napping in this reality). it was so crazy like, it was just like this reality, in fact it felt even more realll. please don’t give up like it is so fucking worth it.

when i shifted, didn’t have a specific DR in mind so i don’t know where i’m at but it’s so crazy cause i just get this feeling that i’m at my cousin’s place. it looked so different but it was really nice. So I was sitting on the couch in the living room and i stand up to go look around for other people. (also i felt so heavy at first y’all) but I walk past the kitchen and there is a balcony facing outside and I see all my family on the balcony.

something things that were different,

❀ my dad was holding a baby girl and i could feel that she was my lil sis (is this reality my parents stopped having kids like 9yrs ago and i only have 3 younger brothers)

❀ there was this family friend named gilliana that was there, never seen this girl before but she was chill. also i just knew that was her name.

❀ my cousin had a different hairstyle, his hairline was botched low key 😭😭☠️☠️☠️

❀ my cousin and aunt’s apartment was way bigger and on the first floor, and my uncle wasn’t there. there was also sm furniture in the living room but the place was sooooo nice!

so the balcony was on the first floor facing the courtyard and that day that there was a food truck there that had cameroonian food. it looked and smelled so good!!! the poisson braisé (braised fish) had me damn near drooling. my mom told me “c'est trop cher” which means, it’s so expensive in french. but I was like idcccc i’m getting a plate! And i wanted to, but took a step back and i shifted back. also ik 100% that it was a shift because i never dream in french, even though im bilingual.

why I shifted back,

❀ i kept on wondering on whether i was acting natural or not because i felt a little, idk how to express it but a bit out of it? and i didn’t want them to think i’m behaving differently

❀ i also kept thinking about my cr lmao and I realized that i would really miss my family here if i were to permashift, which is a feeling i didn’t know i had

❀ i also was not very grounded lol, and i wasn’t there for long, just 5min

some tips and words of advice,

❀ ps, feel free to ask any questions

❀ whenever you have a dream, just tell yourself that you had shifted instead, especially if it’s about your DR

❀ WBTB METHOD YALL!!!! anytime that i’ve lucid dreamed, nearly AP’d, and have had the most vivid dreams, it has been when i incorporated this method. and i do it so habitually. like my friends always joke abt how i sleep in 2 parts

❀ make shifting a lifestyle. now i’m not saying to revolve your life around shifting, but when i started incorporating reality checks and affirmations in my daily life (it literally all takes 10s) it has become a habit. because before, i would never think to try and shift while in SP

❀ honestly just believe in yourself, it’s harder than it sounds but you’re the only thing that can make yourself shift, even if you have doubts and frustrations, that’s not gonna stop yourself from doing SHITTT

❀ pls do not expect your experience to be like mine at all or compare yours to others. i have never heard of anybody shifting with their eyes open before. and also i didn’t experience any symptoms at all, which was not surprising because I never do

anyways hope this was interesting, xoxo ˚ ༘ .˚🌱୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

[forbidding-souda]

I can’t even remember if I’ve requested this before and you’ve already written it or not. But uh. Korekiyo spanking S/O? Pretty please? Just anything with that, go wild lol

(Assuming nsfw requests are open. Otherwise just ignore this)

Korekiyo Shinguuji spanking his S/O (NSFW)

4 you anon <3 this took me about 5 hours to write becaues i started watching hamilton roblox and got distracted. this might be too short bc i've actually never experienced spanking like this at all so this is all through the noggin and quora LMFAO WAIT YOU GUYS DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW OFTEN I USE QUORA AS MEANS OF GAINING INFO FOR SOME FICS LMFAOOOOO. here's a gundham spanking one i wrote before that perfectly explains this processs LOL

ya'll oh my god i am so sick rn as if classes don't start in two days bruh fucking free me im gonna slam my head through a wall bruh i get sick so easily it's not even funny i stole some of my roommates benedryl like i'm coughing so hard.

and all of these sprites i've been using this week are copy and pasted from old posts so i def need to remake them with hair color and piercing updates bc helppp LMFAO i'll do that eventually

-Mod Souda

❤ He is the happiest man on the planet whenever it comes to giving you the sexual pleasure you need. He is delighted to be able to serve you.

❤ His long nails will offer soothing yet ticklish caresses to the back of your naked thighs. Your ass is such a tender part of your body, he loves to touch it, to grope it and when he does, he presses his lips to the pulse of your neck to feel how fast your heartbeat goes.

❤ He's always too excited to undress you. Even your shirt will still be on.

❤ He prefers using his hands, loving the physical contact.

❤ He'll have you folded over his lap, or having your front pressed against a wall on your tippy toes. No matter the position, every time you squirm you'll be able to feel his thick erection.

❤ "My, my." He'll coo at each of your desperate gasps.

❤ In between each spank is the sharp tingle that never seems to relent.

❤ For some real visualization:

❤ You had your knees to the floor and your chest against the couch. Your wrists were constructed with his favorite red rope, the color looked so pretty against you. One of his hands held you down from between your shoulder blades while the other went back and forth compacting against your ass.

❤ Your underwear wasn't even fully off and neither was your pants. They were pulled down to just below the fold of your cheeks.

❤ He was too impatient to strip you.

❤ The loud smack made you cry out in pain, especially when his large hand his the sensitive curves, the stinging almost unbearable.

❤ Your muscles kept clenching, kept tensing, and when he saw the shake of your glutes, his spanks would go harder.

❤ Relentless, back and forth, back and forth, giving you no space to even breathe.

❤ Sometimes he'll let you lay across his lap, your back arched and thighs apart, having you wearing nothing but your socks as he punishes you with rough smacks. From his angle he can perfectly capture both cheeks at the same time, giving your body both a cold shock and an aroused hotness. His fingers will be spread, covering ass much of your skin as he can.

❤ "How gorgeous you are," he'll whisper, more at you than him. You can hear how out of breath he is, desperate to be inside of you. "How beautiful, how perfect."

[ophanum]

Hi!! Ahh im so in love with your writing and the ideas you bring, i was wondering if i can request headcanons for jerome valeska x reader where the reader wants a normal life but he doesnt? Im so curious on if he’d come back after dying cause he would miss her or if he would just leave her be as his little sacrifice to her

TATTOO - ! Gotham TV

ft. Jerome Valeska x Fem! Reader

TW: NSFW, non-con (kind of), yandere behaviour, etc.

note: Thank you so much! And thank you for requesting. Actually, that's a mind boggling idea. But I think this could go angsty or a bit disturbing and yandere, knowing Jerome. But you know him, he's kind of unhinged and all the while detached from all his morals.

"No, I don't care about the pain, I'll walk through fire and through rain, just to get closer to you..." - Tattoo by Loreen

Jerome is inherently chaotic, and for him, “normal” is a joke. When the reader talks about wanting stability—an ordinary life, maybe a simple job, or just being free from crime and violence—he finds it almost endearing. Jerome would playfully mock these dreams, often calling them “cute” or “boring,” but he’s secretly fascinated. The idea that someone could desire a life he sees as mundane shows him just how different the two of them really are. It makes him feel like she’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve, a stark contrast to the rest of his wild, unpredictable world.

Yet, despite his mockery, he’d occasionally attempt to see things her way, leading to…

Jerome would never fully commit to a traditional normal life, but he’d play around with the concept, adding his own demented twists. If she wants dinner dates, Jerome would take her to strange, often dangerous places, like an abandoned diner he’s broken into or a rooftop overlooking Gotham where they’re absolutely not supposed to be. If she wants a day off, he might orchestrate a “perfect day” for them…with staged “surprises” like a random heist or a chase from the GCPD just to make things more “exciting.”

On some level, Jerome sees himself as a kind of twisted showman for her, giving her thrills she’d never get from a normal life. While he may call these attempts at normalcy “experiments,” he’s secretly doing them to see if he can fit into her world, if only for a fleeting moment.

Jerome is possessive, and he knows that being with him endangers her dream of a peaceful life. There are nights when he watches her sleep and contemplates leaving—telling himself she deserves something better, something he can never give her. He’s tempted to let her go, almost as if sacrificing her to the gods of normalcy, convincing himself that he’s doing it for her own good.

But the idea of her finding happiness without him grates on him. The very thought feels like a betrayal, as if she’d be casting off his memory and leaving him behind. He may tell himself he’ll leave her, but deep down, he knows he can’t. She’s his, even if he can’t give her the life she wants. This internal battle between letting her go and holding on adds to his already volatile mind, often leading to unpredictable, obsessive behavior.

Jerome’s chaotic life catches up to him, and he’s “taken down” in one of his many stunts. He assumes this would be the end of his hold over her, a final sacrifice where he convinces himself she’ll have a chance at a peaceful life. But, even in the afterlife, he finds himself restless. The memory of her haunts him, pulling him back. He convinces himself that he’d come back just to check in on her, to see if she’s forgotten him… but once he’s resurrected, his obsession reignites, stronger than ever.

Returning to her isn’t about letting her move on; it’s about reminding her—and himself—that no matter what happens, they’re bound together. When he inevitably reappears at her doorstep, he does so with a crazed grin, thrilled to see the shock and confusion in her eyes, knowing he’s come back to disrupt her once more.

Jerome’s possessiveness knows no bounds. He sees her as his, even if he’s gone for stretches of time, even if she tries to distance herself. In his mind, she is his “little anchor” to the world, grounding him in a twisted sense of reality. This obsession drives him to extremes—showing up unannounced when she least expects it, sabotaging any sense of peace she’s managed to create, just to remind her of his presence.

His love isn’t gentle or considerate; it’s a wildfire that consumes everything in its path. Jerome’s affection is dark, possessive, and chaotic. He wants her with him not out of a need for partnership, but because he feels she belongs to him. Any other version of her life—a life that doesn’t include him—is a personal offense he can’t bear to let stand.

This dynamic turns into a twisted cat-and-mouse game. Jerome convinces himself to leave her, letting her live her “normal” life, but he can’t stay away. After a few weeks or months, he’ll inevitably return, showing up in her life just when she’s settled into some kind of peace. It’s almost as if he waits for her to rebuild before coming back to tear it down. For Jerome, this cycle is exhilarating, the ultimate proof that he has a lasting, unforgettable effect on her life.

This is his way of ensuring she never forgets him, that she’s never truly free. He revels in her frustrated but resigned reactions, savoring every moment when she realizes he’s not gone for good. This endless cycle becomes a sick game for him, where he finds delight in the predictability of her attempts at normalcy—and his ability to destroy it.

Over time, Jerome would taunt her desire for normalcy more openly. He’d say things like, “Normal is for the dead, doll,” or “You’re only alive when I’m around.” He thrives on pushing her to accept his world, to abandon her dreams of a peaceful life. In his twisted view, she doesn’t need normalcy; she needs him.

The tension would eventually escalate until she’s forced to confront the truth: if she stays with him, she’s giving up on a quiet, stable life. Jerome, in turn, finds satisfaction in knowing he’s corrupted that dream for her, leaving her with a sense of belonging to his chaotic world. For him, it’s a victory—a realization that she’s as much a part of his madness as he is hers.

Jerome’s presence is like a virus in her life: no matter how much she tries to cleanse herself of him, he always finds a way back in. He’s a haunting reminder that true normalcy is out of reach. If she’s with him, she’ll never have peace, but he sees it as his gift to her—a life that’s truly, terrifyingly alive.

In the end, Jerome would probably keep playing this game with her indefinitely, relishing every moment he disrupts her peace and binds her further to his world of chaos, one visit at a time.

--

The night was calm, eerily so, and for once, you felt like you could breathe. It had been months since Jerome’s death—if that was what you could even call it. In Gotham, no one was ever truly gone, but you’d convinced yourself this time was different. This time, he wouldn’t come back.

You’d tried moving on, slowly constructing the quiet, stable life you always dreamed of: simple routines, a cozy apartment, and people who didn’t know you or your past. You’d even picked up a job at a local café, finding comfort in the mundane rhythm of making coffees and exchanging pleasantries. It was the kind of life you’d told him you wanted, but he’d only laughed, brushing it off as childish fantasy.

You convinced yourself he’d left you that night, let you go, a final act of mercy from the chaotic storm that was Jerome Valeska.

Or so you thought.

It was past midnight when you felt it: that familiar weight of being watched, the feeling of a presence just on the edge of your vision. You lay in bed, paralyzed, convincing yourself it was a trick of the mind—a remnant of the past you thought you’d left behind.

Until you heard it. The faint sound of laughter, chilling and unmistakably his. Slowly, you turned, your heart thundering as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. There he was, lounging in the shadows by your window, watching you with that signature, manic grin.

“Well, look at you,” he drawled, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “Little miss grandma, all tucked in her little bed, living her little boring life.”

You sat up, your voice strangled. “You’re… you’re dead. You died.” Your words barely came out as a whisper, half to him and half to yourself.

He laughed—a sound you hadn’t realized you’d missed and feared in equal measure. “Oh, sweetheart, death’s just a setback. You didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?” He stood, stepping out from the shadows, his face illuminated by the moonlight, and you swore he looked even more unhinged, if that were even possible.

“What…what do you want?” you managed, though you already knew the answer. With Jerome, there was always only one answer: you.

“What do I want?” he mused, walking around your room, his fingers trailing along the walls, brushing over the simple decorations, the trinkets of your “new life.” “I missed you, doll. I missed watching you try so hard to be…” He grinned, that wicked, taunting grin. “peaceful.”

You took a shaky breath. “Jerome, please. Just… just let me have this. I’m not asking for much. Just… peace.”

“Peace?” His laugh was sharper this time, mocking. He turned, crossing the room until he was towering over you. “Is that really what you want?” He cocked his head, reaching out to run a gloved finger down your cheek, a tender touch that sent shivers down your spine. “Because I think, deep down, you know that life is boring without me.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t, because a part of you—the part that had once followed him into the madness—knew he was right. Life was calm, peaceful… and yet there was a restlessness that had never truly left. A part of you that missed the thrill, the danger, the fire in his eyes.

“No,” you whispered, as much to him as to yourself. “I want a life without all this… this insanity. I want to be normal, to live without looking over my shoulder. Remember my dream? A cottage with a fire place?”

Jerome’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something you could almost call sadness. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s not for you. You’re mine. You know it. I know it.” He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re alive when I’m here. You can lie to yourself, try to play house, but we both know you were never going to be happy without me.”

You shook your head, pulling away, struggling to keep the defiance in your voice. “You can’t just barge back into my life and expect everything to go back to… to that. I wanted a fresh start, a life without you.”

He chuckled, tilting his head. “I know,” he said, sounding almost... proud. “That’s what made it so delicious to ruin it.”

His eyes sparkled, and for a split second, you thought you could see the hint of longing in them—a twisted kind of affection that he’d never dare express in words. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you close, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I let you go once, didn’t I?” His voice softened, though his grip was firm, unyielding. “I left you to your cute little life. But then I got to thinking... maybe you didn’t really want it. Maybe you just needed me to remind you of what you’re missing.”

“Jerome, please.” You hated how weak your voice sounded, the way it shook. “You don’t belong in this life. You don’t belong in my life.”

He smirked, unphased, as if he’d heard this all before. “Doll, I belong anywhere I say I belong. And I belong with you.” He took a step back, letting his hands fall to his sides, spreading his arms in a grand, theatrical gesture. “Besides, what fun would it be if I left you alone to fade into mediocrity?”

Your eyes searched his face, looking for anything—anything—that could tell you this was a dream, or that he’d leave again, fade back into the shadows. But you knew, the second he walked back into your life, that he was here to stay. He would haunt every attempt you made at peace, every fleeting moment of normalcy. He was your chaos, and he knew he’d taken a part of you that could never be satisfied without him.

“Jerome,” you said, a pleading edge in your voice, though you knew it was useless. “I don’t want this life with you. I can’t live like this.”

A twisted smile curved his lips. “You can try, doll. But you and I both know that normal was never your destiny. You’re just as sick as I am, deep down, or else you wouldn’t have fallen for me in the first place.” He took a final step toward you, his eyes blazing. “Now, be a good girl and stop fighting what you want.”

You wanted to scream, to shove him away, to deny everything he was saying. But the truth was undeniable: you’d fallen for him, chaos and all. And maybe, just maybe, a part of you had been waiting for this—to feel alive again.

So you surrendered, letting his touch consume you, knowing he’d never truly let you go. Jerome had you, body and soul, inescapable and unforgiving. And no matter how hard you tried, the quiet life you’d built was no match for the storm in his eyes.

NSFW CUT ( hear me out)

Jerome’s hands trailed down your arms, his fingers a stark contrast between soft and unyielding. The air was thick with tension, a silent challenge in his eyes as he held your gaze, daring you to push him away. And maybe you should have. Maybe you should have fought harder for the calm, peaceful life you’d tried to build. But here he was—alive, here, and touching you like he’d never left.

Your heart pounded as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “I can feel you shiver, doll. You want this—don’t lie to me.” His hand traced the curve of your neck, possessive and rough as he pulled you closer, leaving barely an inch between you. The corners of his mouth curled into that manic grin, an expression you knew all too well, filled with a dark, twisted affection that sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to muster up words of resistance, something to stop the inevitable, but his lips captured yours before you could speak. His kiss was fierce and consuming, a searing claim that left no room for protest. His hands roamed your body, urgent and greedy, as if making up for every second he’d been gone. He pressed you back against the wall, his grip tightening as his mouth trailed down your jaw to your neck, where he nipped at your skin, leaving small marks—a visible reminder that he was here, and that you were his.

“You think you can just live your little life without me?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. “Pretend you’re normal? You’re mine, sweetheart. Normal doesn’t exist for us.”

You gasped as he trailed his hand down your side, fingers tracing the fabric of your shirt until he found the hem. He pulled it up, slow enough to watch the anticipation in your eyes, and then tore it off with a grin. “That’s better,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction as he took in the sight of you.

His hands and mouth were everywhere, unrelenting, taking in every inch of exposed skin like he was starved. He paused, looking up at you with a dark glint in his eye. “Say it. Say you missed me.”

You hesitated, but only for a moment, feeling your defenses crumble under his intense gaze. “I… I missed you.”

His grin widened, triumphant and smug. “Good girl,” he whispered, the praise laced with something darker, a promise that he wasn’t done proving you belonged to him.

He moved with an urgency, his hands exploring, claiming every inch of you as he pressed his body against yours, letting you feel the hard line of his need. His lips found yours again, rougher this time, teeth grazing against your lips as his hands settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him.

Before you knew it, he had you backed up against the bed, his hands firm on your shoulders as he pushed you down. He hovered above you, his eyes raking over your body, taking in every detail. There was no gentleness in his gaze, only hunger, obsession.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. He kissed his way down your body, taking his time as he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, and lower, until his hands slid under your waistband, peeling away the last of the barriers between you.

His eyes glinted as he looked up at you, an almost predatory smile on his face. “You don’t need normal, sweetheart. You need me.”

[kissesazula]

BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE

— g.satoru

| sum: satorus never liked being home. he hates the word home and everything to do with it. so what are the chances that he meets a soft, warm girl who feels like the home he’s dreamt of having.

an: hi guys! this is my first ever post! wooooo!!! any tips and recommendations on how to look more aesthetically pleasing and writing would help great! i think this is what people call a one shot?? idk :( enjoy<3

finding himself at the dawn of the day, sweeping tides brushing against his ears as he walked barefoot in the chilly water of the ocean, finding himself bored as he had escaped the estate.

they weren’t living his life, as a teenage he should be careless and free, right? wrong. his elders thought otherwise and forced him to train to be the next heir to the family name, having a huge name in japan and a reputation to behold. it didn’t help how he was an only child with no cousins so they couldn’t take the position of heir because they were nonexistent. oh how he prayed to anyone everyday that he wishes that he could escape this heinous family, wondering what horrible thing he did in his past life to get set up with a family this bad.

strolling down the beach in only a white tee and shorts, airpods plugged into his ears and blasting ‘heaven knows im miserable now’ by the smiths. sand getting in between his toes while the water tried cleaning it away, his pearly white hair drooping down his forehead as he looked down.

i would rather not go

he simply mumbled along with the song, looking up and seeing the sunrise, seeing how long he’s been out for, wondering if his ‘family’ were already out looking for him.

back to the old house

“augh!” he slightly jumped as his chest had bumped into someone’s head, feeling the cold contact of their hair brushing against his thin t-shirt. groaning in slight pain but more of annoyance as he looked down. “hey look where you’re-“ and meeting the set of 2 wide eyes starring back at him, scared.

“ oh my gosh— im so sorry!” the person underneath him panicked, immediately taking some steps back and bowing in front of him. a girl, young and frail, big deer eyes and plump lips, slight freckles, long hair with and oversized jacket, t-shirt and pj pants. “o-oh it’s fine! it was my fault anyways..”

he slowly turned shy as she raised herself from bowing before him. noticing the glasses on his face even though it was sunrise and the sun was barely out. “sunglasses? this early?” she questioned confused and innocently, tilting her head as he looked in between his eyes.

“fashion statement.” he cracked a joke, expecting a slight chuckle out of her, but instead he got a high pitched giggle, that eventually turned into a laughter burst. putting her hand on her stomach as she bent her back over in laughter. satoru was confused, was the joke that funny? no he was just a funny guy. “oh you’re so funny!” the girl slowed her laughter down, wiping the small tears that ran down her face.

“im (name)! nice to meet you!” she smiled softly as she extended a hand out for a shake. satoru chuckling at her bubbly personality as he took her hand and bent down, bringing her hand to his pink cold lips as he planted soft kisses on her hand. “satoru. glad to meet you.” now satoru was certain that she would start blushing into a total mess, but instead she giggled at him and questioned his gesture. "youre so old!" she laughed as she put her hand back to her side.

satoru looked at her in disbelief, like he was actually insulted. “what?! im only 17!” he pouted, lips turning into a frown as he crossed his arms and looked to the side, seeing that the sun was almost fully up. hearing her coo from right beside him. “17?! no way! you look at least 22! im 17 too” she said surprised as she covered her mouth with her hands. satorus neck quickly turning to her at her comment, with a stunned expression, did she just call him old?

there’s too many memories

he looks offended by her comment, scoffing as he rolls his eyes playfully under his sunglasses. “thanks sweet heart but im not. got a mouth on ya.” chuckling, her pupil only grow larger with every word that comes out of his mouth, mesmerized by his face, laughter, personality, smile— just everything in general had her on a tight rope.

“well, what are you doing out so early?” he ponders, even though it’s none of his business nor that he should care, but he does, he does care because there’s something about her that’s just so… warm.

“shouldn’t i be asking you that as well?” she giggles, bringing her hand to cover her smile. “im joking, i just needed time away from my boyfriend….. a lot of time. being a real-“ stopping her sentence midway as she looks around her, scouting her surroundings. “asshole..” she mumbles the last part out, afraid that her boyfriend would be nearby looking for her. satoru can’t help but laugh. painfully laughing and happily laughing, she has a boyfriend and she was funny.

“needed my personal time.” he looks to the ocean, seeing the full risen sun as she panics in place. “o-oh! im so sorry for disturbing you then! i-ill get going..!” she quickly spits out, words confusing satoru, she wasn’t being a bother? he knew he couldn’t stop her, her boyfriend was probably looking for her by now, but he wanted her so bad, to be friends with.

“wait! could i get your number? n-no not like that! to be friends.” embarrassed by the thought, he clarifies himself before anything else could be said. she smiles briefly before pulling her phone out and handing it to satoru, who gladly puts email, phone number, birthday, and a contact photo and name. handing back the phone to her, watching her lips curl into a cute

and you never knew

“well, I’ll see you soon, satoru.” she says her goodbyes before quickly running off back to the parking lot, watching her hop onto her pink bike and ride away. he smiled as she turned her head around and waved back to satoru, waving back to her.

there was something so alluring about her, she was so… interesting. maybe it was the way she smelled, her voice? personality? face? he doesn’t know. wether it was one of those, he wanted to grow closer to her and build a bond. maybe even be her boyfriend— no that was a stretch, she already had one, but he seemed like a total dick with the tiny bit of information she told. loving how it didn’t bother her to keep smiling through, he craved that as a person. yes, he could smile too, but it wouldn’t be a genuine smile like hers, no hers was real, it felt real. she felt like something he’s craved for a long time, home.

how much i really liked you.

[wishful-seeker]

I am okay with the suffering from my life. My disease is considered "the most painful disease known to man" and has the potential of being "worse" than amputation, childbirth, and cancer pain. Take that information with a grain of salt because suffering is not a contest and i will never know another persons pain, i just said it at a frame of reference. A lot of people say to me "man, what did you do to deserve that?" And for a long time i asked that too. But i realized its not a punishment. I'm okay. My life is incredibly hard, but even though this is a progressive disease, with a high probability of it getting worse and worse until i die 60 years from now, im okay. Because i know that things are constantly changing. I know i don't know what tomorrow will be like. And even if its worse, its DIFFERENT, and as long as i have a chance at a good day, im okay. Maybe I'll get better and reach remission, maybe i wont. Even if i do it'll probably come back one day. I have it forever, there is no cure. It will always affect me in some way. But i still have the potential to enjoy myself tomorrow, i still have the potential to live fully some days.

I remember when it was at it worse, around the 3 to 4 year mark, i would literally only have a few seconds/minutes of pain free time a day. The wave of relief would hit me, it was overwhelming. I'd think "ok Wish, this is the moment you live for. Take it in." And I'd soak it up as much as possible thinking "it may be weeks, months before you feel this feeling again, but it WILL come, all you have to do it make it there." And then it would go away, and i was suffering again. But i literally lived for that moment. And now that moment comes more and more often.

I am okay because i don't know tomorrow.

[no-m4gic]

Hi! I'm the anom who asked for the autistic reader and I loved your writing! So may I request the same THH characters but with a reader who's try to be the sunshine in their lives (example: help Chihiro to be himself), but is secretly depressed and hide It from them cause reader doesn't want to seem fragile?

Sorry If Is complex XD thx!

i have limited free time so i know im probably never gonna complete (another) request(s) today. also i discovered i have no idea how to write for hifumi and yasuhiro, so i'm gonna blacklist them and replace them with mukuro. felt like this request seemed like a good prompt for nagito and also i feel like i could replace ishimaru's one with komaeda's as an apology.

sorry if you wanted the girls too, i'll get on them as soon as i finish my work- i didn't have enough time to write for them. i'll write for ishimaru, too. sorry for missing a lot of characters!

p.s thanks guys for your support !! i appreciate it sm <33

that's a long title 😨

the tags are such a PAIN

~ mod sitaya

THH CHARACTERS W/ AN S/O WHO IS THEIR SUNSHINE BUT IS SECRETLY DEPRESSED

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

"damnit s/o, why didn't you tell me earlier? you know i wouldn't judge you."

money = happiness to him, so he wouldn't fully understand your pain. he'll still support you though, if you need anything he'll send one of his workers to get it for you.

i mean if you were gone, yeah, he'd definitely be upset, so whenever he couldn't understand, he'll just imagine how he'll be like if you died or something.

he'll hire a personal therapist for you, unless you want him to be your therapist... which trust me, he is not good at.

bro can't even comfort anyone without making them cry more.

since he can't comfort someone psychologically, he'll comfort them physically, though he'll only show displays of affection at home or when you guys are alone, n e v e r in public.

honestly at this point, he won't give a shit if you stain his rich people clothes with your tears, he can buy the same new clothes again.

he's not that desperate, but can you imagine byakuya singing his s/o a lullaby?

not really, but he'll tuck you into bed himself personally if you fall asleep while sobbing your eyes out.

if you don't, he'll ask if you wanna fly out of japan for awhile, on his rich people private jet.

it's the least he could do to repay you for helping him during his dark times.

MAKOTO NAEGI

"s/o. how could you hide this from me? did you think i was going to criticize you...?"

he wouldn't ask the million questions running through his head first, he'd hold you first.

you come before anything.

he'll hold you for as long as you'd like, letting you cry in his shoulder while he rubs your back and pats your head.

since you helped him show the others he isn't an 'omega male' and also chased everyone who bullied him away, he'll return the favor.

he'll tell the teacher that you weren't feeling well and needed some time to rest in your room.

also he'll bring you your homework so you don't have to get it yourself and do tons of paperwork at once after coming back.

you don't need a therapist, you have naegi tell them as your therapist.

he'll listen to you go on for the entire day, and if you need to break down, you can jump into his arms and break down, using his shirt as a handkerchief.

MONDO OOWADA

"damnit... who did this s/o?!"

honestly he might just break down too.

but then he'll tell himself he's gotta be a man, with balls in front of his s/o.

he'll put his coat around you and hug you, telling you that it's alright and you can let everything out.

you can take that in any way.

he feels really guilty whenever he has to leave you for training or a competition.

but he'll always come back with a gift and your favorite takeout.

if you ever wanna cuddle, go find him. he'll be more than happy to have a reason to hold you.

daily compliments whenever you two meet up.

CHIHIRO FUJISAKI

"s/o, it's okay. you're not hopeless, you're filled with hope, you still have so much more potential,"

he'll offer to accompany you to do some activities to keep your mind distracted and also to cheer you up.

something maybe like styling your hair and making it look ridiculous by putting tons of bright, glittery accessories on your hair.

he'd ask if sharing his own insecurities would help, maybe just so you know he has other countless insecurities than just him fearing showing the others he's a guy.

if making your hair look worse than junko's didn't cheer you up, chihiro would make up some stupid games like hop like a bunny into mondo's room or sing one of sayaka's songs outside makoto's room while he's showering.

speaking of sayaka's songs, he'll blast all her upbeat pop songs in the room and you two can dance your heart out.

LEON KUWATA

"i figured. now come here i'm gonna cuddle your sadness away!"

leon would definitely try to remain positive

the only good side would be that he could skip his daily weekday baseball training, since y'know he likes hates baseball.

but no, really, he'd have NO idea on how to comfort someone properly.

he'd ask what he could do to make you feel better.

as well as bring you out to get ice cream.

while you guys are out you may or may not encounter celestia's cat wandering around aimlessly... and bring it back to leon's room.

obviously you guys return her, maybe style her a little, watch leon get scratched by her and so on.

overall at least you recovered quickly and now everyone can see you smile again <3

BONUS ;; NAGITO KOMAEDA

NAGITO KOMAEDA

"oh s/o. you didn't have to hide it from me, hopeless trash like me don't have the right to judge hopeful people like you,"

well now it was his turn to have his clothes stained with tears.

countless outfits of yours have been stained with his tears, because whenever you'd return late (which was always) he'd think you left him or something, and the closest thing he has to you are your clothes.

he's clingy.

and he'll become clingier.

everywhere you go he'll follow you like a lost puppy.

lost puppy literally. he won't just follow you, he'll beg for your attention.

anyway... back to you, once you even mention you were upset he'd pull you into a tight hug.

imagine how long that tight hug would be with depressed.

verrrrrry verrry long.

he'd wish he didn't have to let go of you.

and he wouldn't. you'd have to literally wait for him to fall asleep just to work your way out his arms.

he'll shower you in compliments and bless you with encouragements.

if you wanted he could ask gundham for a cat or dog or something, or he'd blackmail gundham just to "borrow" the four dark devas of destruction for like 10 minutes before giving them back even though nagito would lie and say they'd forever be gone.

you want, he buy. literally, you just have to say "i want this" and you'll have it.

no more despair only hope.

IM SORRY ITS MISSING SO MANY CHARACTERS ANON 😭

[jacenotjason]

OK this will be an extremely long ask i am sorry. i love radford

i havent sent an ask to people in years but i am one of the radford fans of all time and demonic possession is a fun concept to me, so the idea of gadreel possessing him specifically makes me INSANE

i just think itd work extremely well. radford doesnt take anything seriously and doesnt understand boundaries, but he always puts his concern for others first and his well-being last. he annoys father gregor and compares him to priests hes seen in the movies, and he does spray holy water + offer free candy against kevins wishes, but he also warns rick about the trouble he could get himself into when not giving the right movie tickets, and helps kevin with his job with no pay in mind. hes annoying, but his heart is in the right place

but gadreel is the Ultimate Prankster. him trying to imitate radford would backfire Hard, because gadreels idea of fun is,, More Extreme. he allows kids to enter adult films, he steals candy and says its fine since hes friends with kevin, he tells his friends and brother to break the rules and disrespect authority, etc etc. im unsure what gadreels motives are other than to ruin everyones day, but hes doing a damn good job at it. all the blame is going to radford, and honestly, its just So Easy to blame him for it

i imagine it takes a while for most people to figure out that somethings wrong with radford. he does what he wants freely, wherever and whenever, so these mistakes could be rationalized by him having an off-day. i assume rad would look extremely tired after a days long session of gadreel torturing him (because he loves pushing the human body. bill cipher behavior). but i think what makes everyone truly concerned is when "radford" starts involving Others in his antics

it isnt like rad to encourage bad behavior. he would never tell rick to swap the prices of two items at his new job, or tell robert the best blind spots to steal from stores, or forcing kevin to take his anger out on someones property. the radford everyone knows is ditzy, but kindhearted. if theres trouble, radford would be the only perpetrator

and god, imagine how much worse it gets if "radford" gets in trouble with the police. john would be frustrated seeing his own nephew be so careless and cruel all of a sudden. itd probably even make him spiral and assume the cult had something to do with it, and that john and his family arent safe like he thought. and i think gadreel relishes in that knowledge

im also so curious as to how gadreel and radford met and how long the possession lasted, maybe it was a week? in my head, he came to radford in the form of a snake before revealing his true self and attacking, leaving no time for rad to fully process it and run away. i also assume skid and pump will have some involvement, and pumps eyes turning blue will be a clear sign that "radford" is associated with a demonic entity, or Is one. either way i love gadreels character being a "twisted" version of radfords if that makes sense

so um ya sorry for the longest ask ever. heres a drawing

OPOOOHMYGOHMOSIEJHIOSRHGIUSADHRUITGHSDUIGSDB !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU ARE AWESOME!??!?!?!?!? FUCK OK OKAYAKOAJTYAOKATY THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS IS SO COOL

THANK YOU FOR THE DRAWING, EATING IT, YOUR POINTS ARE ALL CORRECT

Unlike Moloch whose possessions are more brutal and obvious, Gadreel hides and youre so right! Hes here for the long haul babey!!

yes i imagine the possession lasted about a week, week and a half. Gadreel can't feel pain (at least Radfords pain i mean, he has a higher pain tolerance, as a demon yknow) so he could very well accidentally snap a bone as Radford and not even notice. What im saying is Rad is hospitalized afterwards

AUGHHH the police thing. Gadreel sees the cops and WANTS to get caught by them, just for goofs. in a "Oh what would happen if i did this :)" way.

GOD THIS IS SO COOL YOURE LITERALLY THE BEST

OH!! AND ON THE SUBJECT OF HOW RAD AND GADREEL MET !!

Instead of possessing Patty in the morgue, Gadreel took the form of a snake and.... left lmao. or got noticed and thrown out bc oh my god a snake

he ended up near the candyclub and radford was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Gadreel saw Radford as a hiding place and a means to have fun.

I imagine Moloch doesnt care about what his vessels look like, meanwhile Gadreel won't possess someone if he thinks theyre lame. like yeah he couldve possessed patty but then he would've had to.... do stuff. eugh. This guy looked WAY more fun.

im actually vibrating yourel iterally the coolest dawg.

[monosanimegenericzone]

yknow what fuck it.

manga speculation time as the october release draws ever closer.

but read it how you want bcs this can be taken in or out of its context.

who can actually handle hisoka in the instance of a 1v1 in the phantom troupe.

hisoka knows the abilities of 7-8 members of the troupe by the time they part ways in yorknew city. four of which are already dead so he knows at least 4 more. information to hisoka is basically like an instant win unless you discombobulate him enough with overcomplicated strategy like Chrollo did.

the only four safe from hisoka's intel are: Bonolenov, Nobunaga*, Kalluto, Feitan.

*Nobunaga is a question mark because we dont know if he has a fully realized hatsu or not. and if he does we dont know if hisoka knows about it or not.

so in order:

Chrollo: YES, I think Chrollo is in more than a good enough position to kill hisoka for a second time. with Contagian running wild and so many assorted nen abilities to choose from, he technically has enough bandwidth to limitless nen abilities. will he do so while hunting for hisoka? that depends on if he gets in contact with team phinks or not. but i think he has a good shot of a round two.

Nobunaga: MAYBE, i think nobunaga is the only one in possession of an ability to cut bungee gum, but i only say that because we've never actually seen anything attempt to cut bungee gum. if he can't then he's most likely fucked XD. this also depends on if he has a hatsu or not because as it stands right now, he's very much not ready for this fight.

Feitan: YES, i think its very likely at least. it's not gray enough to be a maybe, but it's leaning towards the very likely. he just has to endure at least one blow from hisoka and its basically over. but even base feitan has a good shot. he has several tricks in his funky lil umbrella that i doubt hisoka knows about and a lot of speed. on top of all that. there are higher forms of pain packer that hisoka is more than capable of unleashing if he decides to play with his food.

I WANT THAT BOAT OBLITERATED BY A NEUTRON STAR. FORGIVE ME BUT I WANT TO FUCKING SEE IT.

Machi: MAYBE, this one i cant be sure about. hisoka is aware of machi's abilities just as much as she is aware of his. It'll come down to what each has prepared for the other and their respective reaction times. personally im rooting for machi in this fight but who knows.

Kalluto: NO, as he is right now, that's a no if hisoka genuinely tried to kill him. he has a get out of jail free card with Illumi being on the team, but with the way hisoka is right now who knows how much value that has.

Phinks: MAYBE, hisoka knows about kaiten, which is a huge disadvantage for phinks. however, phinks can easily get on par with blows equal to uvo if he has enough set up time. which he may or may not get in this hypothetical. hisoka might just straight up rip his arm off which- who knows if that will actually stop him- is Not Good(tm)

Shalnark: YES, honorable mention because i will not let him go. im coping so hard. Autopilot shal has a good shot, it just might end up with both of them dead instead of just one.

Franklin: NO, with his current set up no. unfortunately guns and long range aren't a good counter to hisoka unless theyve got a hell of a lot of power behind it

Shizuku: NO, shizuku herself said it, i dont gotta say shit. but also yes, she'd have to use gyo through the entire fight just to make sure she isn't grabbed and she'd be stuck on the defensive. Unless he bleeds, then she can stay at maximum range and vampire drain him. but he has a hard counter to that so yeah shizuku solo is very much fucked.

Bonolenov: YES, i disagree with bono on his self analysis. Battle Cantabile is a nen ability i haven't talked about much because it's 100% speculation on my end. but as a music nerd i just have to put this here: i think jupiter is part of a suite.* Therefore, i think bono has seven planets at his disposal and i will elaborate more in another post. that and hisoka doesn't know about his abilities, so he has extra upper hand.

*suite being a form of music composure of multiple movements, usually led with a prologue

I REPEAT. I WANT TO SEE THAT BOAT GO D O W N. I WANT IT SUNK I WANT THAT THING EXPLODED SO BADLY.

Illumi: YES, just because hisoka wants to fight him. illumi is a wild card so i cant say for sure. in a 100% all out fight, they have enough knowledge about each other to understand how each other work.

thats my two cents anyway. in the situation they're in right now, its impossible to tell who would win purely because of the number of eyes on any number of them, therefore a fair 1v1 is out of the question.

i enjoy thinking about these funky fellas and please im coping so hard before togashi inevitably rips my soul to pieces.

[millersdjarin]

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Five

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, bonding, flirting, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse, teasing

Chapter Length: 5.5k

Previous Chapter | Fic Masterlist | Full Masterlist

notes: mando's new ship is basically just a bigger version of the razor crest. im not even sorry for this lack of imagination. :)

i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you

Mando’s cooking left you feeling warm, full, and…taken care of.

He had, of course, cooked for you while you were in the cave, made sure you had enough to eat. But all you had was meat and rations. Here, at your hut, he found ingredients to make a proper stew, and spent a couple of hours at your stove. It was hard not to watch him in his silent concentration. 

He could have left by now. He’s got what he needed from all this, and you’re safe in your home, recovering well from your injuries. He could just take his ship, fly to the other side of the planet, and never think of you again. 

But after you and the kid ate—kriff, it was good—he sat at the outside table opposite you, and said, “I think I’ll head out in the morning. If that’s alright with you.” 

You’d swallowed a gulp of water, nodded. “Yeah. That’s fine by me.” You thought of your spare tent, much smaller than the one the storm had shredded. Then you thought of the empty space on the floor inside the hut, how it’s just the perfect size for two sleeping mats. “You can sleep in the hut. If you’re comfortable with that.” 

He’d hesitated, but nodded. “Thank you.” 

So now here you are, long before the sun will rise, just watching him. He’s asleep, you assume, his chest rising and falling evenly. The kid is tucked in beside him beneath the blanket, and it’s so kriffing cute, his little eyes fully closed, ears twitching in his sleep. One of his fingers is wrapped around Mando’s hand, holding him close. 

Not for the first time, you wonder about their story. How they found each other, and how they became so close. 

You don’t sleep. Just doze on and off, at best. There’s a painful dread stirring deep in your belly, spreading to your chest, under your ribcage. You try with all your might to squash it down, to fight it with logic, with the knowledge that you shouldn’t care that you’ll be alone again in a few hours—in fact, you should be happy about that—and that wanting them to stick around is not only stupid and naive, but also selfish. 

It’s just, they’re the first people to ever make you feel…safe. Accepted. Free to just be. 

You never though you’d find that. Hell, you thought you’d spend the rest of your days here alone, not a soul in sight. 

And now that it’s coming to an end, you can’t help the anxiety nibbling through your defences. The wall you’ve built around your heart, around this life of solitude. And you know it’s stupid not just because of all that, not just because growing attached is a surefire way to get hurt; but it’s also stupid because Mando was always going to be here only temporarily. You were just supposed to help him get off-world. Go on a hike. Do a good thing. 

It’s turned into more, and you shouldn’t have let it.

So, above all else, the only thing you can do now is to not let it show.

When the sun rises, Mando stirs. You’re in the kitchen making two cups of caf, and before you turn to look at him, you hear him yawning. It comes out all funny through the helmet, of course, but it’s still endearing. 

While Mando eats and drinks outside, you pack up a little parcel of berries and herbs that you found on your hike, wrapping it in some old paper and securing it with a string. The kid helps, although mostly he just steals berries when he thinks you’re not looking. You slip in a little gift, too, to remember you by; a piece of the tent that was shredded during the storm. It’s a joke, really, just something to get him to laugh. Because you’ve only heard that a few times, but it’s so lovely. 

Except, of course, you won’t be there when he opens this package, when he laughs.

You’re trying not to think about the fact that they’re leaving. That you’re not just going to miss Mando, but the kid, too. If someone had told you a week ago that there would be a bounty hunter with a child that you’d somehow form an attachment to, you’d have laughed in their face. 

“For your travels,” you say to Mando, handing him the parcel. You let your hands linger on his, feeling the leather beneath your palms, somehow becoming a familiar feeling. 

He looks at the package, then to you. “You didn’t have to…” 

“I wanted to,” you interrupt with a smile. Slowly, you pull your hands away. He twitches his towards you, like he wants to follow them, but holds himself back. “So, I guess you’re on your way, then?” 

Wordless at first, he nods.

You feel something tugging at your leg. Little arms wrapped around your good calf. Looking down, Grogu is there, staring up at you with wide eyes, ears turned downwards sadly. 

As you pick him up, you say to him, “Alright, kiddo. I’ve packed some of your favourite berries in there, but you’ve got to let Mando have some as well, alright?” 

He tilts his head, listening. Lifts up one of his little hands, and brushes it down your cheek. His face is sad with a tiny extra wrinkle in his forehead. Gently, you take hold of his hand as it falls from your face, and lift it up, giving his knuckles a little peck. 

“I’ll miss you too,” you say, smiling. Mando’s eyes are on you; you can feel them. Warming and comforting and uneasy. You look to him, and give a sad smile. “You’ve got the city on your map, right?” 

Parcel still in hand, he nods. “Yes. Only thing on this planet.” 

“It sure is,” you remember your first conversation with him, when you told him that there was nothing for miles. When you decided to help him. Some kind of melancholy settles in your chest, too far inside for you to push it away. With one last look to the kid, you wait for Mando to put the food package in his satchel before passing Grogu back to him. The kid clings to your arm for as long as he can, then when he’s against Mando’s chest, tucks his head into his cowl. 

You just stare at Mando, entirely aware of how absurd this is. How much of a strange image it is, this strong man of metal with a soft little child in his arms. You’ve been with him for almost a week now, and the contrast still isn’t lost on you.

“Take care of yourself,” Mando says into the heavy quiet. 

“I will. You, too.”

He nods. Still, he hesitates, not making a move towards the ramp, even though there’s really nothing else to say. You can’t bring yourself to look away, so you just wait. Maybe the longer you’re quiet, the longer he’ll let you stay like this; in this new little world you’ve found yourself in, where suddenly being alone again doesn’t look like any fun.

It startles you just a little when he steps forward. At first, you’re not sure what he’s going to do, but then he holds his hand out for you. 

Tentative, you reach out, and accept it. He doesn’t shake it like a greeting or a farewell. He just holds it, holds you, the bare skin of your palms separated only by his gloves once again, lingering long enough for you to feel his warmth. 

“Ret'urcye mhi,” , he says, ray-toor-shah-me. 

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up to the fact that you’re not glitching out; he’s speaking a different language. His voice sounds like poetry in whatever he’s speaking, tongue curling over the words, breath brushing across them like a prayer. 

“It’s Mando’a,” he explains at your confused frown, his hand still in yours. “The language of the Mandalorians.” 

“You speak that?” 

“A little, yes.” 

“What does that mean? Ray…tor…me?” 

“Ret’urcye mhi,” he corrects gently, giving your hand a squeeze that might be involuntary or purposefully reassuring. “It means goodbye. Or…” 

Your eyebrow twitches up hopefully. “…Or?” 

“Maybe we’ll meet again.” 

A breath escapes your lips, a new feeling sliding in beside the sadness inside you. Something like hope. Reassurance, even, that Mando isn’t the only one hoping that might be true. “Maybe we will,” you breathe, feeling yourself smile. 

With one last, lingering squeeze of your hand, he nods once, and pulls away. Some part of you tells you to reach out, pull him back in. The part of you that has already accepted the fact that you like him, and you like his company. 

The rest of you, though, pushes it away. 

Mando leaves the door open behind him. You stand in the doorway, watching as he walks away, the morning sun glinting off his armour. Grogu is looking over his shoulder at you, reaching out one of his hands like a wave. 

You wave back, finding your smile turning teary. 

You watch until they’re gone, disappeared into the tree line. Then, you just stay there for a minute, gathering yourself. Coming back to your senses. 

It’s quiet. So quiet. 

The smells and sounds are back to normal. No more burning engine oil, no more clinking of Mandalorian armour or cooing of little green Grogus. Just the forest around you, the distant trickling of the creek. 

You used to like it. Solitude. You never thought it would take just one person and his son to change that. But maybe that’s just it; maybe it’s that they’re the first decent people you’ve ever met, and that is drawing you in, making you vulnerable. Maybe you’re just being naive, foolish. 

That’s why you’re here in the first place. 

But, Kriff. In the distance, you see the glint of sun as it reflects off of his ship lifting into the air. You only just see it by the time it’s high enough above the horizon, a tiny silver dot getting further away. 

You close your eyes. So much, you wish that could be you. Leaving. Being free. Choosing where to go, instead of being stuck somewhere just because it’s safe. 

-

The idea only makes a little bit of sense, when Din thinks about it. When he rationalises it.

Having someone else along with him for a little while might not be such a bad thing. It’s been him and Grogu for so long, but they’ve been thrown around from place to place and fight to fight for most of their time together that they’ve never really settled into a routine. At least, not one that couldn’t stand to be changed. 

The ship is bigger now; an extra pair of adult hands could be helpful around here. 

And he hates to admit it, but it can get pretty lonely. At night, when the kid is asleep and everything in the ship is quiet, Din used to appreciate just having the silence to himself. The space to think, to meditate, to consider his next move. 

But things feel different now.

Somehow, after the last week, everything feels different. After you. 

So, once the hyperdrive has been fixed—for an extortionate amount of money, too; trust a backwater planet with only one city to charge that much, because they’ve got you right where they want you—he could just leave the planet’s atmosphere, go back out into the endless Galaxy and find his next bounty. Earn money, keep them under the radar. There are still bounties on him and Grogu; at least, there are stragglers who haven’t quite got word yet that the Imps who wanted the kid are long gone. There’s no one to pay the bounty, but they don’t know that. So Din knows they still have to lay low, stay moving. 

He could just do that. Just him and the kid.

But he can’t stop thinking about your eyes, every time he told you about a distant world. Every time you asked to hear about one. The way you’d confessed into the quiet of the cave that you wanted to see the Galaxy. 

He can’t stop thinking about you, period.

It’s a problem. He knows it’s a problem. He’s not blind to the way he feels when he sees you, how it felt the first time he saw the bright orange sun shining on your face, through the wispy strands of your hair in the gentle breeze. When you touched his hand for the first time, just the brush of fingers. When you were injured, and you tried to push him away, to get him to leave you alone when you clearly needed help, he knew what it was he felt in his chest. Right in his very core.

It’s something he’s not felt before.

And it would be fine, except for the fact that it’s not. He knows he can never have that, with anyone. His life just isn’t cut out for something like that. He has the kid, and that’s all he can give.

And he’s still…finding himself again, after everything that happened. After being excommunicated, realising that he was more than his helmet, more than the thin line he constantly had to walk within the Creed between doing what was right and keeping his face hidden. The disillusion with all he’s ever known is still eating away at him. 

He doesn’t even know where his heart lies, let alone whether or not it’s strong enough to give to someone. Whether or not he’s strong enough. If you’d even want that.…

He knows there is so much he can’t give you. So much that you deserve. 

What he can give you, though, is a way off this planet and into the stars. 

So it’s not really because he needs an extra pair of hands. It’s not even because he’s lonely. But that's just the problem: since when has he felt the need to tell himself, or anyone, anything but the blunt truth?

Finding the piece of the shredded tent in the food parcel you made for him is what does it, in the end.

He doesn’t fly away and never look back. 

When he climbs into the cockpit for the first time after it’s been fixed, still sitting on the platform at the repair shop, he sets the coordinates for the other side of the planet.

Kriff.

He’s screwed here, isn’t he?

-

It’s been two days since Mando and Grogu left. It’s been sunny every minute since. Flowers are blooming in the clearing in front of your hut, bright pinks and yellows in tiny little buds. It’s still so quiet, and for a while, you’d been able to convince yourself that you were enjoying it. 

But now, with insects dancing in the beams of sunlight cast in front of your home, the silence is deafening. You can’t pretend anymore.

It’s coming up to noon when you hear something strange. You must be hearing things; it can’t be that someone else has crash-landed here. That would be two in one week, which seems pretty impossible. Maybe it’s a nearby shindl making a nest. 

Though, it sounds too…mechanical for that. No, it’s definitely the rumble of an engine, the sky too clear for it to be thunder. 

Just in case, you head inside, but sit beside the front window, peering out from one of the corners. Your blaster is at your hip, sniper rifle by the door. If it’s another crash, this time the people might not be as nice as Mando was. 

Minutes later, you see it.

The familiar flash of beskar in the sunlight. The calm, collected steps he takes, the swing of his arms. The satchel, a tiny green head poking out from the top. 

No. You’re imagining things. The poison has come back, and you’re feverish, and delusional. 

Except you’re not. 

“Mando?” You question to yourself, closing the clasp on your holster before standing up and heading outside. Sure enough, it’s him, striding casually across the grass towards you, the kid cooing happily from his place in the satchel. They stop in front of you, just feet away. “What are you doing here?” You ask, a smile twitching at your lips.

He’s quiet at first, because of course he is. “I brought you some food from a market,” he says, fishing out a canvas bag hanging heavily with produce. “To say thank you.” 

You smile and take it from him, brushing your fingers together, definitely on purpose this time. “You didn’t have to do this,” you assure him, but peer inside the bag anyway, finding bright fruits, grains, vegetables, and some circles of cheese. Cheese. Kriff, it’s been a while since you had cheese. Looking up at him with a wide grin, you step closer. “Thank you.” 

He nods. The kid distracts you, then, reaching out a hand towards you in the way he does when he wants to hold your finger. Of course you’re unable to resist him; you thought you’d never see either of them again, despite what you may have hoped.

“I have something to ask you,” Mando says. 

“Oh?” 

“Come with me.” 

Your eyes shoot up to him. “That…didn’t sound like a question.” 

His helmet tilts. “…Will you come with me.” He rephrases, still not pitching his voice at the end of the sentence like it’s a question, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

It makes you weak in the knees. You put all your weight onto your good leg, disguising it as resting your bad one. “What are you talking about?” 

“You said you wanted to travel,” he says. “I can take you wherever you want to go.” 

There’s that warmth again. Right in the centre of your chest. Even if it weren’t for the sincerity in his voice, you would know that his words are genuine; he’s never said something to you that isn’t. “Mando…” you whisper. His offer settles on you, under your skin and into your bones. You wish you could say yes. Wish it was that simple. “I don’t…have anywhere to go, or anything to my name. I can’t…I can’t leave.” 

“You can stay with me. With us,” he gestures to the kid, who is still holding one of your fingers in earnest, big eyes staring up at you hopefully. 

You gaze into Mando’s visor, wishing you could look into his eyes, search his face. He really means this. He wants you to go with them. To stay with them. And every single inch of you yearns to agree to it. “It’s not that simple,” your voice comes out in a whisper. Tears hang in your throat, sting at the backs of your eyes. 

Fuck, you’ve already had to let him walk away once. Now you’re going to have to do it again, and this time, it’ll be after you’ve turned down the best, most sincere offer you’ve ever been given. 

“Why not?” Mando asks.

Your chest tightens. As if on instinct, you pull your finger away from the kid’s grasp. “Mando, there’s…” looking away, you shake your head. Images come to mind of the place you were in before here. The place you fought so hard to escape; the people who would still try to find you and bring you back if they ever got the chance. Fuck, you thought Mando had been sent here by them, at first. There’s nothing they won’t do. “There are people…who want to hurt me,” you confess into the breeze, words so small that he might not have even heard them. You cross your arms over your chest, defensive. “I can’t leave. They’ll find me.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, considering. His visor is still on you. “I can offer you protection,” he says. 

And, Gods.

You have to close your eyes. A painful pang hits your chest. Yearning, the feeling of having something you want so badly so close but yet so far. You’ve felt like this before. For so many years you wanted to escape your family, and it took you your whole life to find the courage to do so. 

You don’t doubt that Mando could protect you. Hell, you know no one will mess with you if you’re hanging around with a Mandalorian. At least, not anyone with half a brain. 

But this? Leaving this planet, this safe haven that you’ve found and created for yourself, leaving it all behind for the sake of following your dream to see the Galaxy? This might be even scarier than the escape that took you decades to plan. 

“You don’t have to say yes,” Mando’s voice comes through the chaos of your thoughts. “I would understand. We don’t know each other well. But I will protect you from whoever it is you need protecting from, and I can bring you back here if and whenever you need.” 

“And what if the people who want me are hunting me for good reason? Maybe I’m some ruthless criminal.” 

The helmet tilts along with the lilt of a smirk in his voice, “I…doubt that’s true. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

Without moving your head, you move your eyes from the floor to him, and feel that warmth blooming, a familiar kind of comfort that his presence brings to you settling in. “I can’t tell you about it,” you whisper. “I just…I can’t.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” 

“But to protect me, don’t you need to know who you might have to fight?” 

“…In a sense. But, you know, I could use an extra pair of hands around the ship. You’d be doing me a favour, too.”

You look away again. “Mando…” you sigh. You’ve run out of reasons to say no. 

He’s the first person you’ve seen in years, and somehow the first person you’ve ever really trusted. Maybe it’s the kid, maybe it’s his gentle voice and demeanour beneath the armour, maybe it’s how he protected you against the storm, stayed with you when you needed him, patched you up. 

Maybe it’s because he’s different to how you thought he’d be. 

And maybe that’s more comforting than it is scary.

You look up at him. Bite your bottom lip. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes.” 

Of course he is. Look at him: all wide shoulders and casual stance, standing here in front of your home like he’s always been here, like he’s always known you. Staring at you like he can never stop. It’s harder to look away from you.

“Alright,” you decide. It’s too quiet, so you say again, “Alright. I’ll come with you. If—if you’re sure.” Melancholy shifts to make way for a new emotion, something you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. Excitement. Anticipation of something good.

He lets out a breath. You wonder if he’s smiling. 

The kid definitely is. He makes a happy shriek, waving his hands about excitedly. 

You laugh, reaching out to gently bump his nose with your fingertip. Then you look back to Mando, squinting in the light that’s reflected off of his armour. “Thank you,” you say, so quiet he might not have heard you. “I mean it.” 

He nods once. “Take your time getting ready to leave. The ship is just in the nearest clearing. We’ll be waiting for you whenever you’re ready.” 

As he walks away, you watch him go, admiring the swing of his hips and arms despite the fact that that should be the last thing on your mind. 

Kriff. 

I’m leaving. I’m actually leaving. 

A stir of panic swirls in your stomach, right in the pit. 

You expected that. 

It’s okay. 

I’m okay. 

-

He presses something into your hand, closing your fingers over it, holding your fist. 

“Ret’lini,” he says, rayt-lee-nee through his modulator, close to your face. 

“What does that mean?” He lets you go and you open your fist, finding a commlink sitting in your palm. 

“Just in case,” he translates. 

You look back up at him. “Thank you,” you say, feeling like you’re going to be saying that a lot, and put the link in your pocket.

You’ve only got a small bag of belongings. Just some clothes, some leftover meiloorun, and the necklace you brought with you from your old life that will now come with you into this one. It was from your aunt, the one person you trusted before she passed.

Mando shows you his quarters. They’re down in the hull, tucked behind a door that gives a gentle hiss when it opens and closes, with two bunks, one on top of the other. The bottom one covers most of the width of the room, slightly bigger than a single bunk but smaller than a double. The top one is definitely single, and between them both there’s a hammock made from a mixture of leather and soft fabric, with a little frog toy sitting in it. 

The ’fresher is next-door, hidden behind a similar door, just a simple toilet, sink, and an open shower. A shower. It’s been a while.

Then, on the main deck, a small living area with a kitchenette, leading into the cockpit where there are three seats; two up front and one directly behind the copilot chair. 

Once you’ve put your bag on your bunk—the top one, where a little light sits on the wall, diffused by a metal sconce—you head into the cockpit, finding Mando in the pilot’s chair, Grogu in the one beside him. Mando is looking at holomaps, twiddling with controls on the panel in front of him and above his head. You wonder what it all does, how well he knows the ship. 

“Where are we going first?” You ask, tentatively sitting in the third chair behind Grogu. 

“Any requests?” 

“Uh…I don’t know much about the Galaxy. Is there anywhere you need to go? Or want to go?”

“There’s a Guild outpost not far from here. I could do with picking up a job.”

“The Bounty Hunters’ Guild?”

“Yes. But if you’re not comfortable with that…” 

“You have to make your money somehow,” you say. You didn’t go into this thinking that Mando would just stop bounty hunting altogether because of you. 

He looks back at you, just the side profile of his helmet visible. “It doesn’t bother you?” 

“I’ve seen worse,” you say, then wish you hadn’t, and look away. “I don’t want to interrupt your life.” 

He looks at you for a minute, then turns away again, pulling up a holomap. “We can go to Nevarro,” he says, pointing at it on the image in front of him, not that that helps your understanding of where the hell it is in the Galaxy. “I’ve got friends there. While I find a suitable job, you could go to the library, think about places you might want to visit. Have a look at some maps.” 

He says it like he’s just fine with you rocking up and saying Hey, Mando, take me here. Take me there. 

“Do you moonlight as a taxi service?” You tease, throwing a smirk at the back of his head. 

He huffs a laugh. “I’ve been known to.” 

“Wait, really?” You find yourself laughing. The idea is funny; this scary Mandalorian just ferrying people back and forth. “I don’t believe you.” 

“I’ve been roped into it,” he says, sighing dramatically, “not my proudest moment.” 

You smile at him, not sure if the fact he can’t see the fondness on your face is a good or bad thing. “So what’s this, then?” You ask, only finding courage because he’s not looking at you. “Am I another one of those shameful moments?” You’re mostly teasing. Mostly. But a part of you genuinely feels guilty for taking him up on his offer, and if he wants to back out, now is the time to do it. You want to give him chance before taking off. 

Surprising you, he closes the holomap, and spins his chair to face you fully. You sit back, suddenly overwhelmed by how small this cockpit is, or how small it feels. “You know that’s not what this is,” he says, “…don’t you?” 

Nervous, you swallow. “I’m…not used to people helping me just because they…well, why are you helping me?” 

He considers this for a moment, his hands splayed on his knees, helmet tilted slightly as he looks at you. “I could use the help,” he answers, though his voice is smaller than usual, no conviction in it.

“So I’m an employee?” 

“No,” he answers. He seems flustered, all of a sudden, though you can’t put your finger on what gives you that impression. “It’s not like that.” 

You don’t like the strange feeling that’s suddenly settled between you. You want to look into his eyes, read them. Want to understand him and his voice and what he means when he doesn’t say things entirely candidly. So, changing the tone, you give him a smirk, and say, “So you are a taxi service.” 

He laughs again, this time a surprised kind of chuckle. “I’m not dropping you off anywhere in particular, so you’re going to rack up quite the fare.” 

You smile, and he leans forward. You find yourself leaning forward too, though you don’t know why. “I’ll find some way to pay you,” you say, your voice dropping to a lower tone, going for teasing, but ending up somewhere else, somewhere that you definitely didn’t intend to— 

Nope, that came out all wrong, you did not mean it to sound like that—

“I mean—” you stammer, backing up again, “I—didn’t mean…I meant I can find something to give you—I mean—”

The helmet tilts, and you stop talking. 

You’ve seen this before. The tilt, the stillness as he just watches you fumble. He knows exactly what you meant in the first place, and is enjoying your floundering. 

“I know you’re making fun of me under that helmet,” you frown, folding your arms over your chest. “And it’s rude. Stop it.” 

He leans back against his chair, his splayed hands dragging up thighs in a way that is, quite frankly, far too provocative to do in front of a child—“The helmet has its uses,” he says. 

You stammer for a response, for some kind of retort. But your cheeks are burning red still from the insinuation that you would pay him with a service and you can’t form a sentence right now. 

“You blush a lot,” he says it quietly, like he’s just saying it to himself, or he didn’t mean to say it aloud.

Your brain actually malfunctions. 

“I—what?” 

He stays still, quiet, stares for just a second longer before he quickly looks away and turns back to his control panel. Like he’s caught himself. Like he definitely didn’t mean to say it. “Nothing. Are you ready to go?”

“I…yes,” you answer. Welcoming the change in topic, you gaze out of the window, at the forest stretching ahead of you, the spring flowers swaying in the breeze. Five years you’ve been here, made a life for yourself. Found a type of peace that you never thought you’d have. 

It hasn’t been easy. And it hasn’t been what you would choose, if you’d had another choice. But it’s been your home, and you’re going to miss it.

But it’s time to make a different choice. And you’re okay with that. 

“I’m ready,” you say, even though he didn’t ask you again. 

He glances back at you, and nods. 

“Are you, though? I might be terrible to live with and then you’ll have to drop me back off here in a day’s time,” you tease. 

Grogu hops down from his seat and starts to tug at your leg, asking for you to pick him up. As you do, Mando fiddles with switches and dials, and the engines start to power up behind you, roaring to life. 

Mando eventually says, “I can find my way back here if you’re trouble.” 

You smile at him, getting the kid comfortable in your lap. His tone is teasing, deadpan. You could hear him talk like that for hours and not get bored; banter with him, wondering if he, too, blushes a lot.

Which, come to think of it, is something you’re going to think about a lot. The fact he said that to you. The fact it seemed like he didn’t mean to say that to you.

You distract yourself by watching the world fall around you as the ship lifts off from the ground. The roof of your hut pokes up through the trees, its small clearing coming into view once you’re up in the air. The sky gets nearer, the ground gets further. 

You take a deep, controlled breath. That murmuring feeling of panic stirs again, deep in your belly, but now is not the time. Looking away from the window and the closest thing you’ve had to a real home fading beneath you, you look instead at the kid, who is gazing up at you with wide, loving eyes. 

“Hey, kid,” you murmur, quiet enough that it’s just between the two of you. He coos back, lifting his finger to brush it down your cheek. 

You close your eyes. 

Take a deep breath. In, out. 

There are so many more stars up here than you ever could have imagined. 

notes: as always thank you for being here. all interactions are appreciated, but comments and reblogs especially make me happy and help with my engagement :) posting schedule is mondays and thursdays!

take care of yourself!

taglist:

@toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @whenpugzfly @elsasshole