#brought to you by 'is it weird that they technically have 2 sets of ears bc of tiny horns AND normal ears?'

[verysmallcyborg]

some "what if" sketches of fornax having actual horns in place of their ears as an au roe, and having more scales along her jaw that protrude

ft. a doodle where fornax is canonically impossible to take down in pvp (unless it's by ryss) so she takes amusement in people trying to get them and their bh5

[kaciidubs]

Ok this is weird but i have this condition where i get a really strong headache when i have a powerful orgasm. It doesn't happen if its just a mild pleasure sensation but when it's an actual like Orgasm, it happens and lasts anywhere frim like 10 minutes to 2 hours. I've been thinking about how Chan would react to this.

Ooh I wonder how he would react too, Nonnie!

The first time he gives you an orgasm - a true orgasm that had your soul levitating from your body - and this happens, he doesn't realize anything is wrong at first.

You were laying on the bed with your eyes squeezed shut, trying to catch your breath, and he thought he'd just taken a lot out of you until he went to bring you closer and you physically flinched from the movement.

"Baby? Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Did I do too much?" It's taking everything in him to not jump to conclusions until he gets your verbal confirmation, but when you bring your hands to your face with a grunt, he feels his heart start to fall to his stomach. "Baby-"

"Shh, Channie, I'm okay I just..." Taking a slow breath you continue, "Sometimes I get really, really bad headaches after intense orgasms, it's nothing you did - I mean, you kind of did it, but it's not a bad thing, you did a great job, technically."

He smiles at your way of trying to make him feel better, but with your hands still over your face he couldn't allow himself to settle into that comfort until you were alright.

"Alright, pretty, just lay here - I'll take care of everything."

And take care of everything, he does; he keeps his movements light and meaningful to keep from disrupting you, he gently cleans you up with a warm washcloth and goes the extra mile of setting up an oil diffuser gifted to him to diffuse the faint scent of lavender throughout the air.

You can hear him patter around the bedroom, his footsteps fading for a moment until they grow louder once more; you can hear the sound of things being put on the nightstand through the pounding in your ears.

"Baby?" He's whispering this time, the soft timbre in his voice soothing the ache in your head by a small fraction. "I brought pain medication, water, and some snacks whenever you need them - if you need them. Is there anything you want me to do?"

His thoughtfulness made your heart flutter and you dared to move one of your hands, looking up at him through a squinted eye - even with the led lights surrounding the room set to a dim glow.

"Lay with me?"

Seeing the dimpled smile you cherished, he slowly climbed back into the bed and settled next to you, laying on his side to lightly drape his arm across your middle - not daring to cuddle you fully until you made the move first.

"I'm sorry if I ruined things, Channie, I know it sounds weird, and-"

"Hey, no, no - don't apologize, alright? Nothing's ruined, nothing's weird - I just did a great job like you said, yeah?" Chuckling softly, his thumb rubs softly at your stomach, "It just means softer after care and quiet time... Quality time."

Breathing out a giggle, you hummed, "Quality time, I love it... I love you."

Lips pressed to your shoulder, gentle and warm, just as they'd feel against your own.

"I love you too, baby."

[Unedited]

[spacebarbarianweird]

“one who moves among hearts” being a possible translation of Astarion’s name is brutal.

If we take this translation as intentionally chosen opposed to real world names where meaning is usually not thought of beyond cultural background. like being named “Michael” because it means “gift from god” (one translation) vs. the name was just in the Bible so it was used

If his parent CHOSE “Astarion” with that intent, they probably meant it as “we want you to be somebody who experiences so much love in your life”

But another interpretation of the phrase “one who moves among hearts” could be somebody who plays with people’s emotions. The heartbreaker.

Which is what Cazador forced him to be. Cazador sent him and the other spawn to catch prey, and unless the most recent patch removed it, there’s basically a Kama Sutra in the room Astarion says he brought victims to. Meaning the seduction ploy was, more likely than not, Cazador’s idea.

Also “tar/taér” being the equivalent of a diminutive and common for an elf’s childhood/first name, something they use until they reach 100 when they get to pick their own and are seen as a full adult in elven society… you think Astarion had to specifically avoid elves?

By a multi species society’s standard he’d be treated as an adult, but an elf hears that diminutive and they’re 100+? They’d probably recoil like when somebody in their 20s realizes a teenager is flirting with them.

Like, could they go with Astarion? Yes, but it would probably get the same sort of side eye as like a 24yr getting with an 18yr. It’s technically okay, but it’s so close to Not Okay that people keep an eye out.

Do you think after endgame that’s something he thinks about? He’s been “Astarion” for twice as long as he should’ve, but it’s also something from his life that Cazador couldn’t take away. He doesn’t remember what he looks like, he doesn’t remember his own eye color.

We don’t know what his relationship with his family was like before, he doesn’t mention them. Which I take to mean he was a transplant to Baldur’s Gate. Maybe he had a good relationship with them but they didn’t live at the Gate, maybe he didn’t and moved to get away. Either way, his name is one of the last and most tangible things from before Cazador that I think he’d have a hard time picking a new one, if he wants to at all.

That's a very interesting point! Thank you for sharing! I actually think Astarion isn't a baby name. Elven baby names are short: Arya, Bryn, Del, Eryn. Tav sounds like an Elven baby name as well. Meanwhile adult Elven names sound like that: Ivellios, Laucian, Quarion, Soveliss etc. Astarion is definetely an adult name in form. Why did he have it though, since he was a child according to Elven standarts?

I have two theories 1) People know the difference between baby Elven names and adult Elven names. So, Astarion just chose an adult name prematurily upon starting his career. I think a lot of Elves start using adult names early in life to look older. Plus they definetely fantasize about what names they are going to take once they hit 100 years. 2) This is a weird theory, but bear with me. There are almost no Elves in Baldur's Gate. Especially, Elven nobility. But there is plenty of Half-Elves. Almost everyone with pointy ears is a person with mixed ancestry. Also, Elves are very delicate and short. Astarion doesn't look like one. He has a human male body structure and if it wasn't for his ears, no one would think he is a pure Half-Elf.

Now let's remember the lessons on genetics, especially Mendelian inheritance. If you have the whole population of Half-Elves (mixed descendants of Elves and Humans), you can get children who inherit only one combination of ancestral features. Two Half-Elves will probably conceive a Half-Elven child but there is a chance the kid inherit Human features from both parents or ... Elven features, getting the same set of genes from Elven grandparents.

So, what if Astarion is like that? He was born in Baldur or its area to the Half-Elven family. Despite being a High Elf, he still has some Human features (ambitions and the body type). And because his folks had little to no idea what Elven society looks like, they gave him an Elven name not knowing it's an adult one. And that would explain why Astarion doesn't have a family to come back to. Half-Elfs live up to 200 years. His parents are dead, people he grew up with are dead. And he is just this "stray" High Elf who wo't be accepted by Elves because he is descendants to Humand and Half-Elves.

[morporkian-cryptid]

Hey, y’all wanna see some more Very Inadvisable Gun Practices by Daisuke “Supposedly The Best Gunman In The World” Jigen,

the same absolute madman who brought us timeless classics like “shooting over your shoulder with the hammer right next to your ear”, “shoving a loaded gun into your waistband”, "twirling a loaded gun by the trigger guard", and of course “using the wrong ammo for so long that your gun just blows up into pieces and buries itself into some guy’s chest”?

-cracks knuckles-

Suppose you are stranded in the Middle Ages (thanks Mamou); Middle Ages People have stolen your gun and used up all the bullets, before kindly returning the now useless gun to you. Do you:

Use your gun to bash people on the head

Acquire a crossbow or perhaps a slingshot

Forge new bullets out of some random metal you melted over a campfire and poured into a hole in a block of wood, then shove them into your used bullet cases, presumably with some gunpowder that you just found somewhere

WHY, OPTION C OF FUCKING COURSE!

I sent these pictures to J (@whosayscrimedoesntpay), my Friend Who Knows Guns™, and he was kind enough to give me a detailed run-down of what exactly is wrong with Jigen. I will now hand the keyboard over to him, so he can explain why, in his own words, “there’s… so much wrong here… so much…”

What the fuck is that metal? Why are you able to melt it over a normal fire?? Why doesn’t the powder flash deform it if that’s the case?

How did you just… find a bullet-shaped hole?? Did you make it?? How did you do that so it was the right size and shape? The wood grain would affect the aerodynamics!

Pouring water on it is just a questionable idea in terms of physics. It could cool weird and possibly deform, if not have water trapped in it.

WHY DOES HE HAVE NO BULLETS, BUT SPARE BULLET CASINGS? [NB: the answer is that he had the spent cases from already fired bullets, which sent J into even more hysterics]

SAME FOR THE POWDER [NB from your local Japan History Nerd™: this movie takes place in the early 1500; firearms were introduced to Japan in 1300 so it’s not completely impossible that Jigen would have acquired some, but then again the villagers there were very clearly established to Not Have Firearms, so…]

Is he… hammering it?? Into the case?? With a rough object?? Risking deforming the bullet?? See point 2 for my point about aerodynamics.

If he doesn’t have spare cases and he’s just using old ones that he’s spent already, no he’s not. THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS.

Expanding on point 7: the whole way a bullet works is the hammer hits the base of the case, either on the rim (the flared bit) or on the center (no flare on those so these are likely rimfire, unless the animators don’t know that either) [NB: .357 Magnum bullets have a flare on the base, so yes the animators did indeed get that wrong.]

That silver bit in the middle of the base houses the “primer”, which is the thing that initially causes the heat/spark that sets off the powder. Depending on if your gun/ammo is rimfire or centrefire, the pin will either strike the rim or the center. On the picture of the spent case (on the right) you can see a dent in the little silver bit.

If they’re spent, you can’t just reuse the exact same case. The primer in the rim/center is spent. You can’t replace that.

Well, technically you can reuse centrefire cases, but you have to replace the bullet (which Jigen did, very badly), the powder (did he?? We didn’t see him do it) and the primer (same here). In the end, the only problem Jigen had with these bullets in the movie is that the aim was very bad, even though the fact that his gun even fires at all goes against the laws of physics.

--------

TL;DR: Jigen is once again defying both science and gun logic. According to J, it basically boils down to “even if the metal is suitable (which it isn’t) and the bullet is made correctly (which it isn’t) and he just… has gunpowder up his ass, he STILL needs a new primer”.

Thank you for tuning in to this new installment of “Daisuke Jigen should not, in fact, be trusted with a gun”!

[constant-mason24]

The Fall of Raccoon City- Chapter One (Leon Kennedy x Reader AU)

(Y/n) has a dull day in the office, but meeting the rookie is definitely a highlight. 

Prologue | chapt 2

♦♣♥♠

Studying her own witness report on the night of Brian Irons’ arrest seemed absolutely ridiculous to (Y/n), but she was utterly devoted to gaining the appreciation of her new captain, Albert Wesker. Since the night they brought the hammer down on Irons and (Y/n) was thus promoted to the S.T.A.R.S. team, Wesker had seemed less than pleased. She figured it was probably because of the implications of Irons' corruption on top of the stress of a newbie on the team. (Y/n) was still rather green behind the ears, only being a part of the RPD for roughly a year. Having such a fresh-faced young girl on an elite squad surely put some weight on Wesker's shoulders, but she was dead set on proving her worth to ease some of that tension. However, it didn't seem to be working. 

Barry had his back to her, seated at his own desk and working on something she couldn't make out from here. Wesker was at his separately sectioned-off desk, though he was facing her through the window. (Y/n) knew it was likely him watching her, but it was impossible to tell with those dark glasses he always wore. The damn man was a mystery. One that was seriously driving her up the wall.

Since her arrival on the team, Wesker had been all but down her throat about the legal proceedings regarding the case. It seemed as if he was more invested in this case than she herself was. Too invested if you asked Jill. She seemed to sense something was wrong, but pretty much everyone including herself chalked it up to residual paranoia from Irons deceptions. 

(Y/n) shook her head, cross-referencing the police reports with her own memory of that night for the billionth time. And again, for the billionth time, she swore she felt someone watching her. She glanced up at the office, but still, there were only two other men in the room with her: Barry Burton and Albert Wesker. 

As she tried to return to her work, she was startled by the sudden loud bang of Chris Redfield throwing the office door open and bursting inside. 

"The new guys here!" He sang out to the whopping three people in the room, two of which were easily at a whispering distance. "Marvin wants everyone to say hi!"

"Oh, that's great!" (Y/n) stood, feeling the invisible gaze of Wesker drift back over to her. She immediately sank back down. "But I'm busy."

"Come on, you can't at least spare a couple minutes to shake his hand and say welcome?"

"I mean, I made the sign… isn't that a welcome enough?" She tilted her head. "I need to make sure everything’s in order for the upcoming trial."

"What trial?" Chris asked, seemingly forgetting the new recruit downstairs for just a moment. 

"Irons trial, you dingus." (Y/n) half-laughed. "What else would I be talking about?"

"Oh, I didn't realize you had to be there for his trial." 

"Well, he did shoot me. I'm technically a victim in this case." She sighed before squinting at Chris. "Hang on, you're the one who arrested him, and you're not going to trial?" 

"Oh, I dunno." Chris shrugged. "I haven't been told otherwise."

"Really? That's all Wesker talks to me about." She mutters under her breath before speaking up. "Don't you have work to do involving those missing persons cases up in the mountains? Why is no one telling you to take care of that?" 

"Those cases can wait!" Chris groaned. "It's not like they're going anywhere."

She tilts her head again, this time in question to ask Wesker nonverbally if he needed anything from her. He just lowers his gaze and returns to his own work, causing her to sigh again. These S.T.A.R.S. people were weird. 

(Y/n) glared at him. 

"Whatever. I'm gonna go say hi." Redfield retreats from the office, leaving (Y/n) in the sound of the air conditioning and Barry's soft laugh. She glances over to Wesker's office and nearly jumps as she sees him facing her head-on. Oh, he's definitely looking at her now. 

♦♠♣♥

It was a few hours later, and (Y/n) had been filling out some forms for what felt like forever. When she closed her eyes, she could still see the boxes of text clearly, as if they had been burned onto a screen in her brain. Among all of her other work, she had also received an email from a lawyer involved in the legal side of the case, asking to meet sometime this week. She needed to add that to her ever-growing to-do list.

Moving to rub her temples in hopes of easing her headache, she almost slapped herself as she flinched when Chris nearly broke down the door for a second time today. Rebecca yelped from her desk as (Y/n) threw a glare at the man before turning to shut off her computer for the night. If Wesker was so concerned about her working on this case for any longer tonight, she’d tell him to either do it himself or shove it up his ass.

Okay, not really. The point was to leave a good impression on the Captain, not a bad one. 

“Hey, I know you were soooo busy earlier today,” Chris pouted, putting on a childishly mocking tone with her. “But you’ve been working your ass off all afternoon, and a bunch of us are going to get drinks with the new guy. Jill really thinks you should join us. Are you gonna disappoint her and work more overtime, or are you gonna come be a fun teammate?”

(Y/n) arched a brow at him. “Using Jill as a threat now? You are a twisted man, Redfield.” She laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m not doing overtime tonight. I need a break.” She turned in her chair to look at Rebecca, who was shutting down her own work for the night. “You wanna come too?”

“Not tonight. I need to catch up on some sleep, desperately.” She smiled softly. “You go have fun, though. I really think you need it.” 

“Yeah, I think so too!” Chris exclaimed.

“No one asked you, Chris.” (Y/n) teased, standing up and grabbing her bag. She glanced into Wesker’s office, but it was empty. He must have slipped out when she was too caught up in her files. She felt guilty for being relieved. 

“Okay, where am I going? And what time is everyone gonna be there? I wanna go home and change first.”

“You wanna dress up all pretty for the new guy, huh?” Redfield waggled his eyebrows at her, and she shoved him in response, nearly knocking him over. 

“Maybe I won’t go after all!”

“No, I’m sorry!” He dropped to his knees and raised his hands in a begging motion. “I promise, I’ll be good! Really.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” She put out a hand and helped him back up. “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.”

♦♠♣♥

Leon was… actually having a good time!

He was secretly dreading tonight ever since he agreed to come out for drinks after work. It wasn’t that he disliked his new coworkers. In fact, he was already liking them a lot. He was just… nervous. What if they didn’t like him in turn?

Now that he was here, Leon’s glad he fought back his anxiety and agreed. Two of the officers- Elliot and Stevenson, if he remembered correctly- were telling him some story about another officer making a complete fool of himself on the job. Or at least, they were trying too. Neither one could get very far before nearly toppling over from laughter. The incomplete story wasn’t enough to stop Leon from laughing himself, his stomach beginning to hurt from flexing as he cackled. 

"And of course," Elliot breathed between huffs of laughter. "What does he do? He-"

"Steps right in it?" Leon wheezed, finishing the officer's sentence, who started roaring even louder as he nodded eagerly. The whole table is in a great mood, and Leon has a feeling he'll fit right in with the people around him. 

He's pulled from his thoughts as Chris Redfield- the S.T.A.R.S. member sitting on his left- nudges him with his shoulder. 

"Here comes (Y/n)." He announces to the rest of the table, turning to face Jill specifically. "See, told ya she'd come!"

Leon's gaze followed the direction everyone else was looking in as an officer he hadn't met yet came in. Chris had mentioned her earlier, saying she was the newest S.T.A.R.S member, and talking about how she was the one who found out about Irons' dealings with the Umbrella scientists. Judging by the rather harsh look on her face, and the stories he had just heard about her, Leon started to grow nervous again as she approached. She locked her eyes right onto him and made a beeline towards the table where he sat. Had he already pissed her off somehow? She seemed so angry…

"Hey. You're Leon Kennedy, right?" She said, standing right in front of him. He gulped. 

"Uh, yeah that's me." He looked shyly up at the woman, who looked like she might just punch him in the nose for breathing next to her. But like a switch was flipped, she broke out into a huge grin, putting her hand out to shake his.

"It's so nice to meet you! We've all been so excited about your arrival. I'm (Y/n) (L/n)!" Leon smiled back, wiping his hand on his pants subtly before shaking her hand. "Mind if I sit by ya?"

"No, not at all!" Leon scooched closer to Redfield, gesturing to the spot next to him. She sat herself down, smiling at him again before turning her gaze past him to her teammate who began to speak. 

"(Y/n) was the one who made that banner for you." Jill Valentine gestured toward her from across the table. "She wanted to make you feel welcome, even if she can't spell worth a damn."

"Hey, I was tired.” (Y/n) defended weakly, ducking her head.

“Well, thank you.” Leon nodded to her, raising his drink as he took a sip. “I thought it was very sweet.”

“I honestly wasn’t expecting you to come,” Stevenson speaks up. “Ever since you got put on the S.T.A.R.S. team, you’ve been in that office from sunrise to sunset.”

“The sun already set, didn’t it?” Chris jokes, earning a very awkward slap from (Y/n) who had to lean around Leon. 

“And what I really wanna know,” Elliot chimes in. “is why you aren’t being pushed to work as hard as poor West here.”

“He didn’t get shot.” Jill shrugged.

“Wait, you got shot?” Leon looks over at her. “When did this happen again?”

“About four or five months ago…”

“I’m fine now,” She says, moving to run her hand over the now-healed wound. In doing so, she bumps her hand against Leon’s leg and utters out an apology. He looks down at her hip.

“Does it affect how you walk?” He asks curiously.

“Sometimes. Usually only in the morning. The first twenty minutes after I wake up are kinda painful. And sometimes if I’ve been sitting a while, getting up again hurts. Or if I lean on my left leg for too long. Sometimes when it rains-”

“Yes, it affects her.” Jill interrupts, shaking her head good-naturedly. 

“It’s not that big of a deal.” (Y/n) herself shrugs now. “I mean, half the people at this table have been shot before. It happens when you deal with the shit we do. But I bet you already knew that, considering you signed up for this job.”

She nudged Leon’s shoulder with her own, causing him to laugh softly again. She was right, but he still found it unsettling. Still, he didn’t go through the academy just to turn back now. He did know what he was signing up for, he just hoped he could handle it as well as (L/n) seemed to. 

♦♠♣♥

It was roughly two hours later now, and things had only gotten louder from here. Valentine was completely calm, seeming to still be sober despite having several drinks. Stevenson, Elliot, and (L/n) were still laughing and having a good time, just at a louder volume. Chris, however, has been passed out face down on the table for the last twenty minutes. No one but Leon seemed to notice or care.

“We’ll see just how well you do in the shooting range, rookie!” Elliot teases, lifting his drink in a toast to the younger man. 

“He will do just fine, I’m sure of it. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he can outshoot you.” (L/n) snorted, and Elliot gasped in mock offense.

“Hey, I never agreed to a competition, you guys.” Leon chuckles, finishing off the last of his bottle. He figured it was probably time to call it a night soon.

“You too scared to 1v1 me, rookie?” the elder officer goaded him on. (Y/n), from Leon’s right, let out a loud scoff and threw her arm around Leon’s shoulder, pulling him a bit closer.

“Listen here, Andy!” She spat his first name out like it was an insult. “Don’t you be giving my rookie any shit!”

“Your rookie?” Stevenson raises a brow. 

“Yeah,” She squeezes her arm on his shoulder lightly, and Leon has to fight off a blush rising to his face. “I’m taking this guy under my wing. If any of you bitches give him trouble I’m coming for your asses.”

“Oh no, not our asses.” Elliot giggles- yes, giggles- and (Y/n) laughs too. 

Leon prays that any red on his face looks more like the result of the alcohol, rather than the very pretty lady hanging off of him right now…

[yesyourstalker]

Nurse: and you said you just found them sitting in the grass?

Lieutenant Behi: yes all by himself, he sustained an energy to his ear. I didn't have time to disinfect it so I banged it up and took him to the chopper.....*sigh*

Nurse: well he's safe..... For now at least.... Here's his file. a272245 Neta Verns he's 15. Join military at 14 just a day after his birthday........ Hm... He was a part of the troubled youth program. Seems that this was supposed to set him straight.....

Lieutenant Behi: what got him in the program

Nurse: ....... Issues with authority, fighting students, fighting teachers........... He threw a desk...... Anger management issues... Self-destructive behaviors.. Possession of drugs or appearing under the influence.....

Behi: my cod He's just a child

Nurse: It's very typical for kids like him. Absent father, mother passed away......unsafe living quarters..... He's from the sewers. He's not the first and he certainly won't be the last troubled child that we have....... He'll probably end up in jail or dead...... shame

Behi: hm.....has he had any visitors in the last couple of days or any contact with his family

Nurse: no we alerted his father but he hasn't shown up yet.

Behi: Am I allowed to talk to him?

Nurse: sure, he won't respond..... I don't think he'll know you're there

_______________________________________________

Day 1

Behi: Hello Neta.... I'm lieutenant Behi. Since we've technically colleagues you can call me Behi

Neta: ........................

Behi: do you remember me? I helped you.... I carried you to the helicopter and brought you here.

Neta:...........................

Behi: hm. Well I can see if I can visit you again sometime. You know just to check up on you. I'll bring something next time.

Neta:............................

_______________________________________________

Week 1

Behi: hey Neta. I'm back like I promised. I uh really don't know what boys your age like anymore hahaha so I got you a sweat shirt..... Some new slippers and mp3.

Neta:........ Mm

Behi: yeah I had earbuds with them but I'm not allowed to bring that in here I'll try to get headphones.

Neta:.........hm

Behi: I see you soon ok champ

_______________________________________________

Week 2

Behi: hey Neta. Good to see you again

Neta: ..........

Behi: so the nurse told me you've been refusing to eat some of your meals....... She also told me you threw a bottle at the wall.... we can't have that....

Neta:..................

Behi: I get it tho those vanilla meal replacements are disgusting.....they got a weird after taste..... and they always seem old...

Neta: *heh*..

Behi: see you get it........ I can try to get the nurse to give you more chocolate or caramel replacements next time they're a little bit better.

Neta: hmm

_______________________________________________

Month 2

Behi: Neta it's good to see you

Neta:................

Behi: hehehe I hope you're improving it's nice outside.... maybe we can open up some windows.

Neta:mmmmm

Behi: see it's nice. Good old sunlight..... Well technically it's artificial sun panels but it's still nice. Why don't we look outside for a while huh

Neta: mmmmm........ hm

Behi:...*sigh*........... When they turn on the sprinklers I'll wheel you out next time

_______________________________________________

Month 4

Behi: hey Neta! Sorry I haven't visited in a while, work and all. I heard your father came to visit.

Neta:.....................

Behi: Look what I got you.............. It's a cushion! It's shaped like an octo!

Neta: ... ...............

Behi: They only had green ones I tried to find a yellow one, they're hard to find..... It's nice you can use it as a back rest or hug it like a little companion. sleep on it. Brighten up your room a bit

Neta: hmmm.........*sigh*

Behi: I'm glad you like it.... see you in a couple weeks

_______________________________________________

Month 6

Behi: Neta..... happy birthday Neta

Neta:...........

Behi: I know this isn't the ideal place to celebrate a 16th birthday but I'll try to make it work. I got you a balloon.. don't worry it's a foil balloon. If it pops it won't be loud, I have a slice of ice cream cake and a pack of birthday cake flavor meal replacements. This one isn't half bad you'll like it ......... And I pulled some strings and look what I got....

Neta: *uhh*

Behi: yeah it's your guitar! I didn't know you were a musician... That's cool. The nurse said you're improving so you can keep the strings on it

Neta:......................

Behi: I won't ask you to play it now but I would love to see you play one day. I see you later

Neta:........thank you......

Behi:.................... You're welcome Neta

_______________________________________________

Month 9

Neta: I don't know. I want to go to college but that means they have to spend another couple years in the military...... I don't think I'm mentally ready for that

Behi: I can see what I can do... You've already finished and got enough credits for high school..... You can start college next year if you are willing.. what do you want to do?... What do you want to study?

Neta: I always wanted to own a business.....I also want to study history...... Heh... I probably won't...this thing will probably go nowhere

Behi: hey! Don't say that....You have your whole life ahead of you.... you're very talented and you're very smart and whatever you do I know you're going to succeed.....

Neta:..................ok.........

Behi:..... Hey you're a good kid. I know you'll do great things.

_______________________________________________

Month 10

Behi: hay Cora.... just here to see Neta

Nurse: he's not here anymore...

Behi: what?

Nurse: his father picked him up today... He not here anymore

Behi: oh...... oh... Ok

Nurse: you really impacted that boy...... You should be happy

Behi: I am...... I'm happy for him.....*sigh*.... He'll be ok

_______________________________________________

Several years later

Warabi: sucks that your grandpa died dude. I'm sorry

Mahi:.....*sigh*..... Yeah......... it sucks that it took my little bother to tell me he passed.... I barely know him but he gives more of shit about me than my parents......... I'll miss him.......*sigh*....... Whatever he gave me his watch so that's pretty cool

Warabi: if you tell Neta maybe he'll let you leave early...

Mahi: hay Neta... Neta... Neta!

Neta: what! What is it Mahi!

Mahi: my grandpa died........ Is that an mp3? cod how old are you?....... My grandpa died can I go home?

Neta: yeah... Yeah sure go home...... sorry for your loss.......fuck you. I'm tired of y'all kids calling me old.

_______________________________________________

Neta: Cici!! Daddy's home!...

Cirrina: hi dad! You got a package!

Neta: ooooo a package. Gimme gimme gimme!! [Kiss] hey babygirl.....

Cirrina: hehehe I'm going to turf.. see ya

Neta: bye sweetie....... Let's see this package..... . 'hello Neta. If you're reading this then I have passed away. You probably haven't heard my name in a long, long, time. You probably don't remember me but I will always remember you. I'm so proud of you Neta, I've seen you around the news and articles. You've grown up to be an upstanding young man. It feels like just yesterday I picked you up on the battlefield, now you have your own store just like you said you were. Congratulations Neta let's hope your life keeps going up from here.-Behi'

.................Behi...... oh my cod he died...*sniff*... oh man.........*sniff*............. what's in the box? ......*Sigh* ......'neta I give you my military tag and my metals. I've been holding onto your promotional pin. Congratulations captain Verns you have been promoted to major Verns. I'm sorry it took 17 years to tell you.'.............. hehehe..*sigh* ...... thank you Behi .... for everything

_______________________________________________

Mahi and their grandfather I guy belongs to @fish-at-fish-fish-resort

[no-droids]

Beginner’s Luck

Part Twelve of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6K

Warnings: 👀👀👀 SMUT.  Oral sex (male receiving), cockwarming, sexual acts in public, the use of blasters and other canon-typical weaponry

A/N: Twas the night before Mando season 2, and all through the house—NO IM JUST KIDDING SDKSFKSVS anyways I am so sorry for not being here for basically all of last month but I could not miss this incredibly momentous occasion for anything. Merry season 2 my lovely baby yoditos

***

“Well,” a modulated voice gruffs expectantly from behind you, clearly tired of waiting.  “Turn around, let me see.”

“No.  I look ridiculous,” you sulk from the corner of the hull, refusing to do as he says.  You thought this was stupid from the very beginning and openly told him so, but you’re also a complete pushover for him with just enough backbone to be frustrated when you inevitably give in.  “And don’t you ‘sweet girl’ me, it’s not gonna work this time.”

“Sweet girl,” Din’s deep voice lulls through the helmet, raspy and soft.

Fucking fine, if he’s gonna twist your arm about it.  You spin around with a deep frown and a chrome visor stares back at you as you waddle forwards, and you don’t even need to look at the kid cradled in his forearm to know he’s smiling toothily as you clunk and rattle.  Once you’re standing directly in front of them both, you blow the stray hair out of your eyes and plant your hands on your hips, just waiting for the inevitable response.

Only, you don’t get practically any response at all from him.  He stays perfectly still and says absolutely nothing, and though the baby’s mouth falls open with happiness and he reaches for you, he doesn’t make a sound either.

“I told you,” you grumble after a few moments of pained silence.  “I look ridiculous.”

Still, nothing.  You purse your lips, shifting from side to side uncomfortably, and eventually your suspicion grows and festers until it finally bursts forth.  Oh for the love of Maker—

“I know you’re laughing under there,” you accuse with a growl.  He doesn’t move a single muscle but you don’t buy it, not for a single fucking second.

Then suddenly the helmet glances away from you and stares purposefully at the wall of the hull as the kid starts giggling, and you knew it.  You fucking knew he was laughing.

“You look great,” comes tightly through the modulator after a moment, and you pull your lip up into a snarl, vindicated in your findings but not happy about it.

“Is that how this is supposed to protect me?”  You wave your arms, hearing them squeak and clank like you’re a droid that hasn’t been maintenanced in centuries.  The rough metal jerks up and smacks your chin with the shoulder movement and you grimace.  “Make the bad guys laugh themselves to death?”

“It's bad,” Din finally turns back to you and admits with zero shame, and your cheeks burn at how stupid you must look right now.  “Way too big.”

“Too big?”  You blink at him.  “That’s your criticism?”

When he presented it to you, your first impression was some sort of brown paint—but no.  It’s fucking… rust.  It’s damaged and scraped up and it looks like it’s been through the ringer and back, and not in a way that gives it character.  There’s almost a literal hole in the fucking chestpiece and it’s dented so much that it actually creates more than enough space for your breasts, what the fuck happened—?

“You’re telling me you went from this—”  You ask pointedly, knocking your knuckles against the ill-fitting piece of metal and feeling it wobble against your chest, “—to that—” you tap the pristine, gleaming armor strapped to his body that easily costs more than probably quadruple your entire life, “—without any go-betweens?  It’s missing one of the shoulders, Din.”

He ignores you, flipping the chestpiece over your head with his free hand and letting the metallic clatter of it meeting the floor behind you ring out through the hull.  “I’d hoped at least something would fit,” comes his filtered sigh.  “This planet isn’t nice.”

That sobers you up a bit, and you feel your heart thump painfully.  “Are we on Corellia?”  You ask without thinking.

“No,” he tells you immediately, quelling your panic while pulling off your one singular pauldron.  “Tatooine.”

You’ve never heard of it, but from the grave undertone of his voice, you know the drill.  Different setting, same kind of people.  Smugglers, rogues, criminals—the type he’s used to being around and knows exactly what to expect out of them.  You always feel safe when he’s with you, but when he leaves?

“Oh,” you say, because you don’t really have anything else.  It’s quiet for a little bit, but then he continues on before you can come up with something to fill the sudden uncertainty on your end.

“I know someone here,” Din murmurs, bending his knees and sinking down to start undoing and pulling the shoddy thigh braces off your legs.  “Someone… nice.  It’ll be safe as long as nobody sees me leaving or coming back, and the kid would be happy to see her.”

Your eyebrows pull inwards, something… unfamiliar settling inside you.  Din doesn’t have friends, he’s made it clear that he doesn’t really like anyone that he knows well enough to introduce you to.  Even when he’s lowered himself in front of you and is technically undressing you, you feel a spark of… no, not jealousy, that’s crazy.  But for real, who is he talking about?

“Why can’t me and the baby just lay low somewhere remote like normal?”  You ask instead, but he shakes his head.

“No such thing,” he grunts, pulling off the other thigh brace.  “Tuskans or Jawas will find you even in the middle of the Dune Sea.”

“I like Jawas,” you blurt, having had many positive experiences trading with the little creatures on Arvala-7, but his helmet immediately tilts up to pin you in place and you shut up, feeling the tangible unamusement radiating from the thin blade of the visor even when the kid starts giggling again.  “I mean I… don’t like Jawas?”

Din sighs and rises back up to his full height, finally handing the baby over to you now that you’re not weighed down by that ridiculous getup anymore.  “You can either stay with her while I get the quarry or run the risk of pirates finding you drifting above the atmosphere,” he reasons bluntly, not mincing words.  “But it’s not a good idea to be stuck on the surface without protection, someone will find you.”

You bite your lip, hugging the kid closer to your chest for a second.  “Okay, that’s fine,” you murmur quietly after a moment.  “We can stay with your… friend.”  

You clear your throat and move to let him pass by to get to the cockpit, except Din doesn’t take a single step.  You blink up at him and after what feels like an eternity of no response, the helmet slowly tilts sideways at you and… oops.

Was that not subtle?  You didn’t know what to call her, genuinely, that’s why you hesitated.  You didn’t want to use the word acquaintance, it felt too detached for the fact that he said the kid would be happy to see her again.  That’s what’s called a friend, right?  

Maker, why are you being so weird about this?

Thankfully, you end up getting away with it.  After a few painful seconds of looking at every single thing in the hull besides him and humming a song you make up on the spot, Din slowly walks past and disappears up into the cockpit.  You take a deep breath and gently rub the baby’s ears between your fingers as the Crest powers up with a ferocious rumble beneath your feet.

***

It’s bright.  Fuck, it’s so bright here.  You hold the kid to your chest with one hand and shield your eyes with the other as the ramp slowly descends, dust immediately kicking up around it.  Din’s palm is resting against your lower back and his thumb gently brushes back and forth, but your heart decides to drop the very moment his hand does, and as soon as the ramp clanks against the landing platform, he’s striding down into the blazing hot desert sun without you.

Something in your chest squeezes and whispers to you that he probably doesn’t want to touch you when he’s about to see an old friend again, so you wait a few seconds of space before descending down the ramp behind him, not really knowing how you feel right now.  But you’ve barely taken a single step to follow when a woman’s voice screeches out from across a vast distance.  “Oh no, no no no—don’t you even think about it!”

Din slows to a halt at the end of the ramp and gives whoever it is a small nod, nothing beyond it, and if you weren’t purposefully looking at him for cues right now, you’d probably miss the greeting entirely.  You stand on your tippy-toes from behind his cape as a fiery little middle-aged lady in a mechanic’s jumpsuit marches up to him with an attitude that more than makes up for the height difference.

“You’re not allowed here anymore,” she pokes his chestplate brazenly with one hand and props the other on her hip, clearly not excited to see him.  “Not after the ruckus you caused last time, no sir, not on my watch.”

“That won’t happen again,” he gruffs shortly, not providing a single thing beyond it, and you blink.  What… what happened last time?

“It sure won’t!”  The strange woman agrees shrilly, crossing her arms and widening her eyes until she looks a bit like she’s been out in the suns too long.  “I’m still recovering, Mando!”

“I compensated you,” he reminds her, a quiet edge of frustration beginning to creep into his voice.

She suddenly narrows her expression at him, going from manic desert lady to sharp and discerning skeptic within a split second.  “How much do you think my life is worth?”

Din takes forever to respond, seeming to either be choosing his words very carefully or grinding his teeth under the beskar in frustration.  Probably both.  “I brought my ki—”

“You bring trouble!”  She bursts out, stomping her foot on the dusty landing platform and holding her ground.  “I don’t care how cute your little one is, go park your ship on some other poor soul’s hangar bay!”

He doesn’t say anything back, staying completely silent while you stand there awkwardly and wait for his response, and it’s almost like you… forgot.  How quiet Din can be, how unnervingly little he can choose to offer to conversations until he deems the information absolutely necessary to provide.  He allows you to forget that reserved nature of his.  He talks to you.  He never used to at the beginning, but somewhere along the way it just became increasingly common to hear his voice, both with a high-pass filter and blissfully without.  Now though, there’s just too long of a weirdly tense pause in the reunion for you to handle without doing something about it.

So you step out from behind him with the child in your arms, giving her an apologetic smile with as much friendliness as you can possibly put into an expression.

“Hello,” you greet her gently, musically, lifting the baby’s hand to give her a companionable three-fingered wave from the both of you while he coos.  “I promise I’m not trouble, but he did bring me along this time.”

Din and the woman simultaneously turn to look at you; her like you’re just as strange and jarring of a sight to see on this planet as the tiny unnamed boy in your arms and him like your voice by itself is enough to loosen his shoulders.  Though neither one of them ultimately respond to you, you can tell by the way his fists unclench that you’ve at least helped him relax, even if the frizzy-haired lazy otherwise ignores your introduction entirely.

“Now just what in Maker’s name are you doing with a poor little stowaway like that?”  She faces him and pokes his armor again.  “You runnin’ a charity out of that battered piece of junk you call a ship?”

“Three hundred credits to let them stay with you for a week,” he turns back to tell her, cutting directly to the chase.  Alright, so you don’t really understand their relationship at all at this point.  He said she was nice?  And yet he’s already bribing her that handsomely?

“Five hundred,” she immediately shoots back, and your heart sinks.  Fuck, there’s no way.  There’s no way he would spend that much, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay.

But… he doesn’t respond.  Which you now remember with a jolt of surprise, means confirmation.  Not wasting words agreeing, he’d say something back to her if he had an issue.  Maker, five hundred credits.  You’re starting to wonder if he’s really able to make any money at all doing this, or if the job is just… fitting for him, so he continues to do it.  He’s spending more and more credits on you every single time you turn around, and while you don’t feel great about it, you know Din well enough to know he’s stable and independent enough to make the decisions he wants to make.

So you just stand there and hold the baby to your chest, unsure of your place, while Din eventually turns around to face you.

Sometimes, if you’re being honest, you almost find yourself wanting to… do soft things with him that you know you shouldn’t while other people are around.  Granted, he’s never told you not to, but the last thing you want to do is undermine his reputation by unintentionally revealing his gentler side.  You want to give him a hug and maybe hand him the baby to say goodbye, but you don’t know if that’s how he wants to present himself to company right now.  Unfortunately, that ends up translating into you just looking at him and awkwardly waiting to see what he does.  Your feelings won’t be hurt if he just takes off without another word now that you know that that’s his intent—you promise, they weren’t hurt the first fifty or so times he’s done it.  You understand him, it’s alright, he doesn’t need to—

But then he leans in and lowers his voice until only you can hear it.

“I’ll be back soon,” he tells you, and you feel warmth creep into your chest.

You understand him.  Which is why you feel like you could almost burst with how much he didn’t have to say that but chose to do so anyway.  You already have a solid time frame—a week—which is more information than you usually get, and it’s such a small thing.  It’s insane; if you made a list, you’d have 1) talking to you, 2) knowing his first name, and 3) seeing a glimpse of his forehead as your top reasons why he might care just as much about you as you care for him.  That’s insane.

He takes a second to reach a glove out and rub the baby’s ear as he makes his adorable little baby noises up at him, before the helmet tilts back up just slightly to look at you.  

“Be safe,” he waits for you to whisper back.

And you think now is finally the time to go, right?  Except he waits just a few precious seconds more, just holding there, silently.  Maker, you don’t want to miss him, why is he doing this to you?  You’re trying to play it cool, see-you-later’s have been commonplace between you for nearing a full year now, so why does it feel like now is the first time he truly doesn’t want to go?

You hold the kid with one hand and start to reach for him the split second he turns to walk away, and you quickly drop it as the dry wind snaps through his cape.  He leaves and doesn’t look back.

Still, you watch him disappear, until eventually you’re reminded of your host’s presence with the tap of a wrench against your shoulder.

“Hope you know your way around a hyperdrive,” the woman says with a smirk.  Maker, Din didn’t even give you her name, you’re going to have to ask.  “Gotta repair at least two of ‘em by sundown.”

You catch the hefty tool with your free hand and turn to her.  “Pre-Imperial or post?  Never done a restoration, but I’m a quick learner.”

She blinks at you like that was probably the last thing she expected you to say, but you give her the same friendly smile from before and look towards the entrance of the hangar for the ships needing maintenance.

***

So Peli is… a character.

She’s quick and entertaining and whip-smart, but you worry that if she had a whip, she might actually use it.  She’s nice—she is, but she damn near works you to the bone once you prove yourself capable.  You don’t think she expected the extent of your practical knowledge of mechanics, she went into it assuming you were going to be useless and did a hard U-turn that very first night.  You both worked together to fix two malfunctioning hyperdrives by sundown, just like she told you she needed, but then she looked vaguely surprised and nobody showed to pick up until two days later.

The second day is more hectic, and the third day is worse.  You cradle the kid on your hip while you work one-handed, smudged grease all over your forehead and sweat sticking your hair to your neck.  Using Peli’s sonic shower never leaves you feeling clean no matter how many times a day you find yourself wanting to wash the dust and grime from your body, the same way yours used to back on Arvala-7, and you immediately get why her dark hair seems so frizzy and dry whenever you step out of the stall and catch sight of the similar rat’s nest on your head in the small mirror.  Hypersonic waves dry it out more than the blazing hot suns on this planet—you look the same exact way you’ve looked for decades and while you don’t mind hard work, you can’t stand the complete lack of water on this forsaken rock.

Din was right, though.  She is nice, but in a way that she never wants anybody else to find out about.  She cooks you food every night but expects you to clean the whole kitchen after, she lets you have free reign over the caf maker as long as you remember to make enough for her, and she allows you and the kid to pass out on the beat-up sofa in one of the secluded back rooms for the time being.  On more than one occasion, when she assigns you chores that require two hands and a steady focus to complete, you overhear her babytalk behind the control panel as she bounces the kid in one arm and plays with his ears.  It fills your chest with a quiet, subtle kind of warmth, and you understand why Din trusts her with him.

At least you stay busy—which, understatement.  She works you so hard that eventually she starts handing you tasks that don’t really seem… pressing.  Replacing the spherical joints on her three pit droids, hand-scrubbing the grime off the pots and pans she uses to cook the same two meals everyday, polishing the dusty windows overlooking the landing platform even though they’re caked over with dirt not even an hour later.  You realize soon enough that she doesn’t have nearly the workload here as she claims, periodically catching her playing cards with the droids while you’re busting your ass doing chores once all the real work has clearly been accomplished, but you’re not upset.  You like being busy, it’s how you’ve lived most of your life.  However, at some point, you actually end up running out of things to do.  After that, it’s like she has to actively look for tasks she still needs completed.

One morning you find her in the parked Crest, ripping open the guidance systems paneling and talking to herself.  You sip your caf and watch silently from the landing bay, hair pulled up in a messy bun and the baby on your hip as the suns rise on your shoulders and she mutters, whole sheets of metal being tossed out from the insides of the Razor Crest.

You've also learned she responds incredibly well to the prospect of credits, so you don’t spend too much time wondering what her goal is—find something in the ship for you to fix and then charge Mando extra for the materials whenever he comes back.

Hilarious though, as if there’s anything in your ship that actually needs fixing.

You spin around with a sigh and walk back into the hangar, knowing today will probably be the first slow day in awhile.

***

A few hours later, you’re invited to play a game of Sabacc for the first time in your life.

There are so many rules—so many suits and names to keep track of, so many values to memorize, only to be forced to choose one card after every round to keep just in case the rest of them happen to shuffle at random, which occurs at least once or twice every game.  There’s too much luck involved to figure out any sort of strategy; you feel like sometimes you’re hopelessly lost and end up winning anyways or you wager nearly your entire stack of bolts on a perfect hand and then you lose the entire thing regardless.

It’s an unpredictable nightmare.  But it’s something to do, and you’ve learned that playing just as stupidly as you bet allows you to easily stay in the game.  The baby sits in your lap and plays with one of your rusty metal gambling pieces while your leg bounces, and Peli grumbles under her breath once it appears you get ahead of her in winnings.

“Beginner’s luck,” she tells her favorite pit droid quietly, who focuses its singular eye at you in a way that somehow feels unfriendly and nods on a brand new swivel, courtesy of yours truly.

You don’t argue, because there’s no point.  The whole fucking thing is luck, but there’s no point.  You know enough about this game to know that you might give something away if you speak, so you keep your mouth shut and let her fill the void.  You know how to stay silent, you’ve learned from the best.  Wordlessly drawing a card from the deck and tucking it in between two others of the same value, you decide to trade one of your other cards at complete random and hope it all just works out.

“Ship looks like it’s brand spankin’ new on the inside,” Peli mutters into her mug out of nowhere, and you pause for a moment, before silently nodding at the offhanded comment and trying not to show how pleased you are by it.  “Was falling apart the last time I saw it.”

You keep bouncing the kid on your knee and fan out the cards in front of you, hoping his big black eyes aren’t reflective enough to reveal your hand.  “I have a lot of free time.”

“I can tell,” she acknowledges, crossing her legs and leaning back into her chair.  Peli sets the mug down and sighs.  “You’re a good mechanic.  I’d offer you a job here, but something tells me you wouldn’t even consider it.”

Now, you do smile.  But it’s a hidden one.  A fond one.  One you find impossible to fight when you’re reminded of him.  You miss him and ache for him and all those collectively angsty things, yes—but mostly you’re just… able to find a bone-deep solace in even thinking about him.  Your heart tightens, but it’s far less constricting than it is a comfort, a firm embrace.  It surrounds you in its safety; Din’s mere existence is your protection, wrapping around you the same way the beskar protects him.  Nothing can touch you.  You’re safe, from all the things you used to fear and all the new things you’ve learned to fear.

No, you’d never consider it.  This planet is too much like Arvala-7, just slightly more populated and dangerous.  You love the baby.  You love him.  You’d never consider it.

“Don’t you get bored?”  She asks you with a raised eyebrow, and your smile admittedly drops the slightest bit.  “Just waiting around for him to come back?”

You don’t have to think about your answer.  Of course you do.  If you’re being honest, it does feel a bit like your life is split between worlds—one with him, and one without.  Whenever he’s not here, you’re thinking about how much you want him to come back, and whenever he is here, you’re thinking about how much you don’t want him to go.  You’ve never experienced anything like that before.  There were a few local farmers scattered far across the arid landscape of the place you used to call home, and three of your neighbors all had kids around your age.  So you experimented when you were younger, since you never had much else to do in your spare time, but you never loved any of them.  You’d always go back home and continue to do chores, continue to look up at the sky and wonder what you were missing.

“Yes,” you admit quietly.

But what you don’t tell her is that in exchange, you get to see the galaxy.  You get to have experiences you’ve only dreamed about, take care of the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen and become part of a family.  You don’t know of anything you could want more.  Adventure, companionship, pleasure, and fulfillment.  Sure, you get restless, and sure, you don’t necessarily feel good about the fact that Din seems to be your driving force even when he’s away, but you know independence.  You know what it means to live for yourself.  You’ve done it long enough that you’ll never forget how to, you’ve experienced it more than enough to know you’re happy about throwing yourself off the cliff and falling into something different.  As much as it’s new and terrifying, it’s better.  Now you have other people to live for, too.  

You marvel at the change—not just from a year ago, but from a handful of months ago.  He used to terrify you.  You used to keep your mouth purposefully shut around him because you were scared of overstaying your welcome and being dropped off somewhere equally as remote as the place you grew up.  Never could you have imagined that the fiercest guardian the galaxy has ever seen would decide you’re also worth protecting.

No, you figure, you just need to… find something in addition.  Something else to also commit to, give yourself something to do.  You can practice the new self-defense maneuvers he taught you, that’s a good idea.  But maybe you can also…

You eventually decide to prompt Peli in a change in conversation.  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“What do you want now?”  She takes another sip of her caf as if you’ve been bothering her about this all day long, and… well, it’s times like these that you wish you had a helmet, too, if only so you could roll your eyes.

“I’ve got a few pieces of rusted metal in the Crest,” you eventually tell her, careful with your phrasing and not sure how much you want to reveal.  “They’re in bad shape, but I want to keep them.  Could I use some of your tools here to hammer out some of the dents, dissolve whatever crud is on the surface?  I saw you have a forge back there that’s barely been used, just need the metal hot enough to be pliable without sacrificing its integrity.”

She furrows her eyebrows at you.  “But I still need your help with…”

You wait, but she’s got nothing and you both know it.  Still, you keep a pointed silence and wait for it, wondering if this’ll actually work.  This is what Din does, right?  Just refuse to say anything and make the other person crumble under the crushing quiet?  Miraculously, it proves to be successful—you watch her flounder for a response, her will wavering the longer you sit there and stare expectantly at her.

“Fine,” Peli finally acquiesces, and you grin.  “But only if you win this round.  What d’you got?”

You set down your cards to reveal your hand.  A perfect twenty-three if you’ve been counting right, unbeatable unless she or any of the droids managed to get the same, and you know it didn’t happen as soon as she takes a few seconds for mental math and then scoffs.

“Beginner’s luck,” you tell her kindly, pushing all your winnings back over to her side of the table with one hand and scooping the kid up with the other, before turning around and heading towards the Crest in search of Din’s old armor.

***

It’s late afternoon on day five and you’re on your back on a creeper seat, sweat dripping down your neck as you reach up to fiddle with the engine of a T-16, a Skyhopper similar to one you built yourself on Arvala-7.  They're not space-faring vehicles, they’re only capable of reaching the upper troposphere, but owning one allowed you to develop solid flight skills without ever truly being able to leave.  Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever despised a ship more.

You know you’ve got engine grease all over and you feel like you’re boiling in your own sweat, but you’re almost done.  After this, you’ll be able to go back to working on your side project.

As soon as you’d been granted Peli’s direct permission to do so, you mixed the chemicals necessary to eat away at everything besides the basic structure underneath, and then spent all day yesterday manipulating the metal to better fit someone your size and shape.  You slaved over the wickedly hot forge and developed a whole new muscle in your arm from hammering and reheating, hammering and reheating.  You had to repair the way the chestpiece was tapered into a concave point by folding the thin metal back in on itself multiple times, strengthening it without flattening it back into its original shape too much, and then you ended up melting down some of the extra material from the needlessly large shoulder and thigh pieces to fill in the gaps.

Granted, you still have a ways to go on replacing the crushed magnetics box that was falling off the chestpiece and filing down the rough scrapes and sharp edges, but you’re now left with almost a full set of armor that’s a uniform dull silver in color and molds way better to your general figure than before.  You’re not a blacksmith or armorer by any stretch of the imagination, but you’re good with your hands and did what you could in the time allotted.  It looks better than you ever thought it would, and without access to Peli’s enormous collection of tools and machinery, you know it would’ve been better off in the trash.

Still, you have to finish this engine first before you can rip apart the control unit wiring on the armor to see how the whole set fits together and what else needs to be repaired.  You’ve been working on it for a few hours before you hear the door to the hangar open.  Yet, when you don’t immediately hear Peli’s voice calling out to you, or anyone else’s voice for that matter, your heart thuds in your chest with sudden excitement.

“You’re back early,” you tell the engine suspended over your head, knowing he must’ve already thrown the quarry into the Crest parked outside before coming to see you.  Right on time, footsteps approach and then a boot carefully catches the flat platform between your legs, slowly rolling your seat out from under the ship until the rest of the sunlit hangar is revealed to you.

You know you must look a hot mess right now.  Your hair is a disaster and there’s not a clean spot to be found on your body—sweat glistens and pools along every curve you have and you’re probably drenching the spare jumpsuit Peli let you borrow, but Maker, there he is.  Every time you see him is like the first time all over again, except this time the Mandalorian is looming like a giant over you, the helmet tilted down and silently taking you in.

Instead of settling you, his daunting presence gets you hotter than dual suns in the sky ever could.  Fuck, he hasn’t said a word to greet you, and yet you’re already wondering if you can entice him to shove you back under here and join you.

You slowly push yourself upright and he steps back just enough to allow it, but not an inch more than that.  You have to crane your neck up to keep looking at him, and he stands close enough over you that you wouldn’t have to reach far at all if you wanted to touch him.

And it’s crazy to think that… you absolutely could touch him, if you wanted.  He radiates danger, he hunts and tracks for his continued survival, he’s probably got fresh blood staining the dark fabric of his cape and he’s so fucking intimidating—and if you wanted to, you could touch him.  

Maybe you can partially blame your sore muscles as to why you immediately drop your head back down, but mostly you just want to stare at a part of his body that happens to align perfectly at eye level.  And fuck, nothing stops you from looking.�� He doesn’t help you up, but he also doesn’t move so you can haul yourself to your feet, either.  He just holds perfectly still with his body standing tall over yours, content to stay exactly like this while your hand slowly reaches out to wrap around one of his ankles.

He’s so warm, his muscles flex strong under your palm as you let it drift upwards, biting your lip as you flick your gaze back up to the chrome visor and then down again to the apex of his thighs.  Your other hand comes up to scale the beskar strapped to his leg and you roll yourself forward slightly, wondering if he’d let you…

The black fabric stretching over his crotch just barely touches your fingertips before his hand is suddenly whipping out and grabbing hold of your wrist.

You gasp and jerk your head up to look at him, somehow equally hoping that you’re both in trouble and not in it at the same time.  Din’s abruptly chest raises with a large, labored inhale, as if he wasn’t breathing at all that entire time, as if he just now remembered the setting, the fact that he’s not alone on the Crest with you right now.  Peli and the kid have to be somewhere in the hangar, you know that, but…

“We’re leaving tonight,” he breathes out through the modulator, and you have absolutely no fucking problem with that at all.  “But… shit, but…”

“But…?”  You prompt, wanting nothing more than to let your hands reach back up to his pants again, but you settle for slowly dragging one palm up his forearm as his grip on your wrist tightens.

“Fuck, I wanted to take you somewhere first,” he groans like your feather-soft touch is actually hurting him, his hands suddenly dropping yours and pushing you away to clench into fists at his sides.  “Maker—why do you always f-fucking do this to me…”

You raise an eyebrow at him this time, the curiosity starting to mix with the heat simmering down low, the kind that you'd feel even on a frozen wasteland of a planet as long as you were with him.  All at once, you decide to channel him and his trademarked silence, enthralled by the incredibly slim chance that it will work equally as well on its creator.

“…Distract me,” he finally growls out an answer to the question you never asked him, sounding frustrated with you for reasons you still haven’t figured out, and your mouth is drier than the desert outside.  Oh stars, you feel… fucking powerful.  “From everything,” he goes on, talking honestly and openly, more words given to you in thirty seconds than he’s probably offered to anyone all week long.  “Fuck, I feel like I can barely do fucking anything anymore, I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Your heart slams in your chest, wondering if he possibly feels the exact same way about you as you feel about him.  Missing you whenever he’s gone, dreading the moment he needs to leave again whenever he’s with you.  The thought alone is enough to set off fireworks through your veins, pumping hope and excitement from your fingers to your toes.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, biting your lip in a way that doesn’t look or feel sorry at all.

“No, you’re not,” Din grunts, before reaching out and hauling you to your feet, and even if there wasn’t a flat seat under you with wheels, it’d still be awkward and uncoordinated as fuck.  “Shit.  I… I need to clean up.  Grab your things, go tell…”

Din trails off after a second, suddenly sounding at a complete loss.  You catch your footing and stare at him as he falters.  “Uh.  Go tell…”  He gestures with a sense of finality to the control room, as if he’s actually successfully communicating with you by doing so.  “Her.  That we’re leaving tonight.”

“What?”  You ask him, thoroughly fucking confused.  “What are you saying right now?”

“The woman,” he clarifies, clearing his throat.  “The mechanic, with the… droids.  Tell her I’ll pay her before we leave, but we’re g—”

“Peli?”  You blurt, completely flabbergasted at this point.  “Did you forget her name, Mando?”

“I…” he shakes his head slightly at you, like you should already know him better than that.  “Never asked.”

“But you—?”  You blink at him.  “But you said she was your friend?”

“You said she was my friend,” he immediately points out, with—oh Maker, just biting accuracy.  It wasn’t necessarily a jab or anything, but you still feel dizzy with how fucking spot on he is about it.  Yikes, you absolutely did say that.  You forgot.

“Oh…” you mumble, at a stunning loss for a response.  “Ha.  Oh.  Yeah, huh.”

There’s too many beats of awkward silence after that, probably because he’s just so blown away by your way with words that he’s just attempting to analyze the wisdom.  Stars, you’re making a complete fool of yourself in front of him, aren’t you?

“Were you jealous?”  He suddenly asks, and you jerk upright, your heart kicking up to a gallop in your chest at the question.

“I’ll go tell Peli we’re leaving soon,” you quickly agree and go to scurry away in abrupt panic, but he catches your wrist and hauls you back before you can get far.  You run into him with a gasp and immediately start to repeat your explanation for why you very suddenly need to depart, but the tips of Din’s fingers catch your chin and force you to look up at him.

“Hey,” he cuts your rambling short with a hushed murmur and the pad of his thumb brushes down your jaw.  “Tell me the truth.”

You don’t have an answer that won’t be incriminating, and you don’t think you can get the delivery right on a lie, not to him and especially not when he’s got you so cornered.  So you just keep completely silent and look up at him like a scolded child would.  Innocent, wide-eyed and scared shitless about the unknown consequences of your actions.

His helmet slowly tilts as he studies you, watching you look up at him for help.  His fingers gradually spread out across your jaw, flattening under the curve of your throat but so gentle, so careful that you’re almost worried he actually is mad.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately offer before he can say anything, your eyebrows pulling up in the middle.  “I’m so sorry, it’s just—I just��”

His thumb carefully stretches up to brush your bottom lip, and you…  Mind blank, no thoughts.  Stars, you’ve got fucking nothing.

“I’ve got nothing,” you admit, giving up before you can even try.  “There’s no reason.  I was jealous.  It’s stupid and I wasn’t going to say anything because I know it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t feel possessive over you but I do, and it’s stupid.  I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I know you, and I’m really sorry if that makes you feel weird, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have—”

Your chin lifts slightly with the gentlest movement of his hand and the subtle pressure is enough to cut your mindless oversharing off.  Din’s voice lowers until it’s throaty and quiet.

“See that wall?”  He asks, keeping the visor pinned to you while carefully turning his hand to the right, and your whole head easily follows the movement as he guides it.  You have to blink your eyes into focus a few times, but then you immediately see what he’s talking about.  It’s a partition separating the welding room from the rest of the hangar.  He waits until you nod in the cradle of his palm, before leaning in and murmuring to you.  “If we were alone, I’d take you around behind it and show you exactly how that makes me feel.”

You pull back from him with a startled gasp just as a voice calls out from the entrance of the hangar.  “Well, look who finally decided to come back!”

Din slowly drops his arms and stares at you for just long enough to make you seriously worry that he’s going to say fuck it all and do it anyways, before finally turning around and greeting Peli with another silent nod.

She plants one hand on her hip once she’s standing right in front of him, cradling the kid on with her other arm, and you have to take a second to collect yourself now that you’re not at the direct center of his attention anymore.  “Sure did take you long enough, didn’t it?”

“I’m two days early,” he grunts in his immediate defense, but it’s like she doesn’t hear him.

“You’re leaving soon I hope,” she drawls while handing the baby over to him, who makes an adorable little happy squeak at seeing his dad again.  “You owe me five hundred credits.”

“It was five hundred for the full week,” he reminds her, and… he has a point.  Though it was never part of the agreement, you wonder if she’ll be willing to accept less compensation for having the burden of your company be lifted early.

“Five days count as a full week, far as I’m concerned,” she shoots back, and your heart suddenly sinks when Din’s shoulders tighten and he doesn’t respond.

“Peli…” you sigh from behind him before you even realize you’ve spoken aloud.

Your host quickly sidesteps your bodyguard to eye you dubiously, and at the same time, you also jolt and wonder what your goal is here exactly.  You’re ultimately just attempting to diffuse any tension sparking between them, you figure, knowing you’re probably the best mediator here.  She looks at you up and down for a long time, hard and judging, before the baby babbles something wordlessly and she sighs.

“I suppose we can just call it even,” she finally huffs, turning back to him.  “You’re lucky your girlfriend earned her keep, Mando.”

And then your jaw drops.  Holy shit, is she serious?  You assumed Peli valued credits above almost anything else, you never expected her to just… turn down the entire offer like that, so willingly.  Clearly Din didn’t either, because you both just stand there for a moment in front of her in a baffled silence.

Also… girlfriend?

Is that what you are to him?  Admittedly you haven’t talked to him about what to call your relationship, but then again, you’re a practical person and you never really saw a specific need to do so.  You care about him, he cares about you—what else is important?  You don’t need a title to recognize your value to him, and for some odd reason, calling yourself his “girlfriend” just feels like you’re a teenager again.  If you were actually looking for a different word to use instead, you wouldn’t be able to find it, but you know that one just feels… not enough.  Not old enough, not encompassing enough, not complex enough.  It’s an elementary school version of what this is.  And to refer to someone like Din as your boyfriend?  Maker, just saying it aloud would probably make his eye twitch.

“Uh.”  He stands there awkwardly, and you’re so blown away by both the sentiment and specific verbiage she used that you’re practically useless at this point.  Shit, what’s beyond girlfriend, you wonder?  Lover?  No, not good enough.  Partner?  No.  No, not wife, definitely fucking not—  “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peli waves him away and spins around to leave, but not before throwing one final thing over her shoulder.  “That ain’t an open invitation to come back, by the way.”

All of a sudden, you just can’t stop yourself from breaking out into a wide grin, tucking your chin in hopes that she won’t see it with her back turned and decide to pounce on the display of weakness.  The three of you watch her stride out of the room and immediately bark an order at one of her droids to get back to work, who starts looking around in desperate search of something to do, and Din’s palm finds its usual place on your lower back as she disappears.

“What a nice lady,” you offer to him, and he gives you a wordless grumble in response.

***

So it’s a couple hours later and you think the kid might actually have the right idea this time.

You find yourself wishing you had a little hover pod of your own that followed Din around, one you could close the lid on and hide in while blaster fire whistles through the air around you like the baby is currently doing.  You’re trying to listen to instructions—you’re trying, but there’s a lot going on here.  Voices chatting, guns firing, targets being pinged, a lively little band playing in the cantina next door.  

When Din first led you through Mos Eisley and inside this specific adobe hut, if you’re being completely honest, you had hoped for food.  A comparatively large restaurant, perhaps?  Peli didn’t starve you by any stretch of the imagination, but her dinners were the exact same every single night, and you’ve learned to thrive on new things.  While you didn’t necessarily think he was going to take you on a… a date, or anything, you certainly didn’t expect him to take you to a shooting range.

Well.  Now that you think about it, this might actually be a date.

Luckily you’re hidden away in the furthest firing partition from the door, but even without the near-constant barrage of gunfire to your left, the distractions are still plentiful.  The kid actually reached down and pressed the button to close his crib himself as soon as the bright beams of plasma started zooming past and reflecting in his large black eyes, and oh how you wish that were you.  You don’t necessarily feel like you’re in danger or anything, but you’ve also never seen so many guns in one place before and you’re worried you’re accidentally going to hurt someone else.

So far Din has taught you the fundamentals for any firearm—always keep the safety on until you’re ready to fire, never point at anything unless you’re a hundred percent willing to shoot it, yada yada yada—and also the safety fundamentals for blasters specifically.  So, making sure there’s no leaks in the gas cylinder when you first load it, never letting a strong magnet get near the power pack, checking the surface of your target for deflection curves if you want to prevent a ricochet, or maybe in his case, inspire one.  He’s taught you your stance, he’s taught you how to read your sights, now all that’s left is just to… shoot.

Your arms raise up in front of you and the metal feels too heavy and awkward in your hands, and you have to hold the handle in your left and creep your right index finger all the up the side of the barrel until you feel the indented safety switch.  It clicks and you reset your grip to slowly ease your finger onto the trigger, staring down the sight, right at the bullseye.  Din is standing directly behind you next to the kid’s tightly closed hovering pod, arms crossed and just waiting for you to pull it.

Come on beginner’s luck, come on beginner’s luck—

You fire, and… well.  You don’t think you’ve ever seen a shot miss its target that spectacularly in your entire life.  You’re almost surprised the beam of plasma didn’t somehow ricochet back into the booth you’re both standing in, that’s how spectacularly you missed.

“Try again.”

There’s no amusement in his voice, nothing mocking about it.  Pure monotone under the helmet, as if he was just naturally expecting that to happen.  

No, you think in frustration.  You want to surprise him again, impress him with how quickly you can pick things up, turn him on like last time.  You just fucking know that would get to him—seeing you easily hit the target dead center with his own blaster, you know that would get to him.

You adjust your aim and fire a few more times.  Miss, miss, wild miss, miss.  Fuck, so many distractions, plasma flying in the corner of your vision and an increasingly heavy gaze from behind you.  Another miss, a miss, yeesh that’s a miss—

Alright, so you're just embarrassing yourself at this point.

“I think it’s broken,” you shrug in defeat, taking a second to find the safety switch and toggle it before going to set the gun down on the raised adobe platform separating the line of booths from the targets—but then Din suddenly snatches the blaster from your grip and extends his arm over your shoulder, firing off six rounds in rapid succession so wickedly fast that you jump backwards into his rock solid chest in surprise.  He doesn’t give an inch under the collision and even wraps his forearm tight around your tummy as he hits the bullseye with such deadly accurate precision that even the char marks and the line of smoke left wafting from the target’s center are razor-thin.

“Works just fine,” he grunts, setting the weapon back down again before urging you forward a bit.  “Go ahead, give it another shot.”

But you’re on a remarkable delay, just trying to process his sheer speed, how fluid and seamless the entire fucking motion was.  Fucking Maker, blink and you’d miss the whole thing.  He waited to grab the gun from you until you turned the safety on, but then… then how did he fire it so insanely fucking fast?  That’s like five different things he had to do with one single hand within a split second��?

“I turned the safety on,” you blink down at the blaster, clearly just trying to process.

“Yeah,” he agrees blankly, as if he’s unsure as to what specifically you’re so stuck on right now.

“So how did you toggle so fas—?”

He picks it from the shelf gracefully and lightning quick—as if he just can’t help but go that speed around his weapon—and then he twists it on its side, flexing his wrist back until the barrel is pointed upwards and you can clearly see his index finger extend all the way up to the safety switch, flipping it up and down while his middle finger rests over the trigger guard.

“How in the f…?”  You mutter, lifting your hand up next to his and positioning your fingers in the exact same L shape, only the tip of your index finger barely stretches an inch shy of the switch.  “Psh,” you huff, dropping your arm back down again.  “Design flaw.”

“For you,” he acknowledges, using the trigger guard to flip it back to its proper position in his hand like fucking spinning it like that is just the easiest and most natural way to handle the deadly weapon.  “This gun was made for me, it’s a feature.  Yours would be smaller and lighter, have the safety towards the back of the chamber instead of along the barrel.”

The words and the casual display of ability cause a rush of stirring excitement to burst forth inside you, suddenly giddy at the very thought.

“Wait,” you draw the word out with a grin, leaning back into him and gently nudging him with your elbow to make sure he knows you’re only mostly joking.  “You gonna buy me a blaster, Mando?  I did earn my keep this week, didn’t I?”

“Have to find one that fits a big enough sight first,” he mutters while setting the gun down on the table, and you scoff at him as his hands come to rest on your hips.  They squeeze and try to guide you forwards once again.  “Prove that you can at least hit the target with mine and we’ll see.”

“You only get to make fun of me if you give me a real answer,” you rule, planting your feet and refusing to budge.

“Okay, but we both know I’ll make fun of you anyways,” he sighs, and you have to dig your heels in and push back into him to keep yourself rooted to the spot.

“You’re not being a very encouraging teacher,” you accuse without trying to hide your grin.  “In fact I feel very discouraged right now and I think that y—”

But then Din suddenly tips his helmet closer to your ear and lowers his voice, cutting you off.  “Did you know that gifting someone a weapon is considered a proposal of marriage on Mandalore?”

Your smile quickly drops and you gasp, wholly startled at the implication and immediately trying to spin around to look at him.  “Holy shit, are you serious?”

“No,” comes his modulated grunt, tightening his hold and keeping you firmly facing forwards.  “Of course not.  Pick up the gun.”

Okay.

Okay, so that one gets you.

You immediately start giggling, painfully aware that this isn’t the time or place for it, but that one actually fucking got you.  Din easily guides and parks your gullible ass in front of the window carved out of dried mud before picking up the blaster himself and forcing you to hold it with your loose hands, grumbling under his breath.

Shit, okay, focus.  Focus, you can do this.  You clear the laughter from your throat and suddenly get deadly serious, staring your target down like it’s personally gone out of its way to ruin your entire life.  The blaster feels cold in your palms but not when Din’s hands wrap warm and tight around the back of yours, letting you hold the gun how it’s most comfortable for you before gently settling his fingers down over yours.  His chestpiece presses tight against your shoulder blades when he guides the gun up and out, and his arms are long enough to extend yours fully even though he’s behind you and still has some bend to his elbows.  He uses his feet to kick your ankles apart until they’re shoulder-width and then you both carefully find the trigger together.

He’s quiet and slow about it and the whole thing is one giant fucking turn-on.  Maker, chill out.  Chill out, he’s teaching you how to shoot.  This is important stuff, there are people around, chill out…

Din takes a moment to aim the barrel and his hold is so fucking steady, so unwavering and strong.  You wonder if it’d be too obvious if you pushed your hips back a little, you might be able to feel his—

“Fire,” Din murmurs next to your ear, and you pull the trigger without a second thought.

The bright red plasma beam launches from the end of the blaster and hits the target dead center.  You gasp, pulling the trigger again, and unsurprisingly, it’s another perfect shot.

He suddenly lets go of your arms and takes a small step back, but the second he removes his body from yours, the rounds start bouncing wildly off the edges of the target.  Your eyebrows furrow and you try to emulate how you think the angle felt before, but you can’t find it anymore and you’re just failing spectacularly.

When you decide to pause for a second, Din steps up close behind you and wraps his arms around you once more.  You can feel the exact moment he’s locked in his aim, and you fire wordlessly as soon as you know it’s going to hit.  Bullseye, right on the nose.

This time, he lifts just his hands away from yours, staying perfectly still otherwise and you swear you don’t move a single fucking muscle in your entire body before pulling the trigger, but it still hits the far corner of the target.

“It’s broken,” you shrug once again, and Din drops his helmet to your shoulder with a sigh.  “This gun was made for you, which means there’s obviously some mod you have installed that reads biometrics and ruins the shot no matter how good it—”

“Not even close, but that’s not a bad idea,” he tells you, watching you click the safety on and set the uncooperative blaster down.  “I can’t figure out what you’re doing wrong.   Are you just distracted?”

Uh, fuck yeah you are.  So much is going on and more than that, he’s here and he’s just… fuck, you know what he meant when he said he felt like he was losing his mind.  He’s your biggest distraction, all the time.  He’s still standing so close to you and the baby is still isolated and tucked away in his hovering sphere, and you take a moment to think about it.  

Yes, it’s… it’s possible that you may learn better by example than anything else.

“Can I watch you do it?”  You ask him, and Din shrugs before reaching around you and quickly grabbing the blaster from its mud shelf.  “Wait—” you tell him while he raises and extends his arm over your shoulder, and then you wiggle sideways as much as possible in the small booth to squeeze around behind him.  He doesn’t say anything as you swap places with him and scoot up behind him, but you can tell by his body language that he’s confused.  You wonder if he liked that position and watching you shoot his gun, even if you’re complete shit at it.

He stands in front of you for a second and you give him an encouraging, “Okay,” to let him know you’re ready, but then the helmet turns back to look at the target like he’s still unsure as to what you want specifically.  You keep your mouth shut and let him figure it out.  You meant what you said—you want to watch him shoot.  You want to watch him where he’s infamous, watch him do what he’s best at and let completely loose in front of you.

As if it finally clicks for him, Din turns to face the target and suddenly throws the blaster into his left hand while reaching down and pushing a button hidden under the hollow platform with his right.  You have to lean around his broad shoulders to watch the target slide backwards on its track easily triple the distance before squeaking and slamming to a stop.  Din stretches his non-dominant hand out and subtly tilts his helmet before firing six times, easily hitting the bullseye with just as much accuracy as before, and you frown when you notice the only shots that have actually hit the target so far have all been dead center.

He sets the gun down and stands there for a second, staring across the range like it’s nothing at all to him and it’s… remarkable.  Not that he’s a wicked shot, you’ve known that the second you laid eyes on his armor all those months ago.  No, it’s just… you would think this is where he’d thrive, if anywhere.  The entire place is full of smugglers, raiders, scavengers, mercenaries—occupations that define themselves by their grit.  They’re talking as much as they’re shooting, conversing in languages you’ve never heard but suspect Din easily understands.  But instead of fitting in, he’s just… there.  He doesn’t look comfortable, but he also doesn’t look uncomfortable, either.  He doesn’t look like he’s having any fun at all.

None of this is considered a hobby to him, you suddenly realize.  It’s not fun because he’s too good at it.  This is life.  This is going back to school for the most basic fundamentals of a job he’s excelled at for decades—it’s not interesting, he’s gaining absolutely nothing from practicing.

You try to think of the last time you’ve seen him truly in his element.  You think back on all the different settings—he looked out of place on Canto Bight, got into fights on Corellia, hated Coruscant, seemed stressed on Nevarro, and even on Naboo, even in the middle of paradise, he looked unsure if he actually deserved to be there with you.  Now here on Tatooine, where he has real people that he trusts, where he’s surrounded by like-minded individuals shooting his favorite things in the world, it’s like he’s still not able to fully let go.

Is it just you, you wonder?  Does he stand out more just because you’re the one looking?

No, you think.  No.  You have seen him relax.  You’ve seen him laugh before, you’ve seen him be himself with you.  

But… only with you.  A hardened bounty hunter that much prefers the company of a young woman and an infant to literally anyone else in the galaxy.

Fuck.  Why does that turn you on so fucking much?  It’s the display of prowess, the sheer skill he’s developed, how fucking deadly he is—and how you’ve felt him use that trigger finger to trace slow circles around your clit.  The Mandalorian standing with his blaster raised has probably been the last thing too many people have ever seen in their lifetimes, and yet watching from this angle just makes you feel protected, guarded, and… so fucking horny for him.

“Do it again,” you eventually murmur, touching both your palms to his back this time just to feel it.  You want to feel him shoot, you want to feel his muscles move with it.  You want to touch how mechanically he’s able to aim, you want to know if he’s loose or tense when he fires, you just want to… feel it.

Din grabs the gun and as he extends his arms out, you slide your hands up his back to rest under his shoulders.  He’s so broad, he feels so warm and strong, and his trigger releases are so steady that nothing above his wrists move.

Shit, before he’s even finished setting the blaster back down again, you’re already scooting up behind him as close as possible and carefully slithering your arms around his waist, hugging your body tight to his back.  Din stays completely still while your mouth presses against the fabric of his cape and your hands begin to slowly slide down his stomach.

He doesn’t say a damn thing, which makes it even hotter for some reason.  There’s no warning he gives you, no low growl of your name or sweet girl being dragged through the modulator.  He stays completely silent and holds there while blasters continue to fire from stalls to your left, and it gives you the thrill of your lifetime.  Big strong man holding perfectly still for you to touch in the middle of a crowded room.

Your hand slips under his waistband and sink down low until you can trail your fingertips along his cock, hidden from sight beneath the edge of the clay shelf.  The small sound you make at feeling it already firm and at attention for you gets lost in the noise of the shooting range, but you wrap your palm around it and give it a good, slow pull upwards, feeling Din’s back expand with a breath from the sensation.

“Do it again,” you whisper into his shoulder blade, slowly playing with his cock in his pants with one hand while keeping the other wrapped tight around his abdomen.

Din immediately snatches the blaster off the platform and fires it the very moment he takes aim, and you can feel his cock pulse in your palm as he lets off the shots.  Dead center, as always, but he clunks the metal back down with a bit more force this time and then lingers his fingertips at the sloped edge of it for a second, as if he’s considering whether or not he should hold onto it.  

You’re already wet between your legs, but it gets worse the longer he allows you to keep doing this.  His skin is furnace-hot and he throbs for you, and you trail your thumb up to check—oh, Maker, he’s leaking for you, too.  You drag the pad of your thumb over the tip and gently rub the wetness along the curve of his head, before easing back down to give the shaft another slow pull.

A quiet puff of air comes through the vocal filter, but that’s all you audibly get out of him.  Still, it’s more than enough to fill you with a wicked heat and a desperate desire for more.  So you bite your lip and glance around just to double-check that nobody else has wandered over behind you and the kid is still tucked away in his crib, probably passed out in the secluded darkness at this point.  And then you barely take a split-second to consider it before your knees are bending and you’re slowly sinking down the length of his body.

Din is a fucking statue.  He doesn’t do anything to allow your wiggling underneath the raised platform anymore than he widens his stance to prevent it.  Once you’re on your knees in front of him in the dim isolation of your hiding spot though, he takes a single step forward and pins his waist to the hardened clay above your head, and a thrill skitters through you at being completely walled in on all four sides.

You reach up to hook your fingertips in his hem of his trousers and begin pulling them down, so tight and achy between your legs that you want to shove your hand down between them already.  You don’t though, not yet, because you need two hands to be extra careful in getting his cock out.  You don’t even want the fabric of his pants to touch it, you want your mouth to be the only sensation he knows here.

At the very last second, you decide to pull the waistband down far enough to let his balls rest outside the confining clothing, getting increasingly hotter at the thought that this isn’t going to be sneaky and dirty, even if you’re in public.  Din’s wide stance and the floor-length cape hide you perfectly from any prying eyes behind his back, so it’s going to be soft and it’s going to be slow and he’s going to be comfortable while you go down on him.

Your mouth is already watering, so you bend down just slightly and lift your chin to gently drag your tongue along the smooth skin of his balls before anything else.  Honestly—you don’t think he’s expecting you to go there first, because his whole body suddenly jerks at the velvet soft sensation between his legs and you let out a low hum in response.  He can’t reach you down here unless he tries to, so you scoot your knees up a little bit and just decide to go for it.  This way he won’t be able to get it confused, he won’t pull you out from under here halfway through when you suck on his balls before anything else.  This is what you want from him, what’s right here in your mouth.

You switch to the other one and Din twitches with a filtered breath, the skin already tightening up and responding gorgeously under your tongue.  His hand hovers somewhere near the raised platform above your head, fingers curling in his leather gloves and caught right between stopping you and letting you continue.  While he allows it, you ease your way up and make it just tantalizing enough to make him ache without providing any real stimulation, slowly trailing your tongue up the length of his cock and pressing plush lips to the flared head.

Din exhales a shakily while you take your time, tasting the precum as his body produces it, just kissing and licking and purposefully refusing to touch him with anything besides your mouth.  Without being able to see the rest of him from this angle, you're left to your own devices—you’re so gentle and soft about the pleasure that you start to separate the man from the throbbing erection you’re currently playing with.  You begin to enjoy yourself without thinking too much about the struggle he must be withstanding right now, you moan softly against his heated skin even though you know you’re being a tease at the worst possible moment, but no matter how you decide to take your time with it, Din continues to allow it.  He endures.  Silent, perfectly still, until you eventually decide to wrap your lips around the head of his cock and flutter your tongue up underneath it.

But then he jumps and your eyes open when a deep, unkind voice from the stall to your left calls out, “Hey, Mando!  Gonna fuckin’ shoot or just stand there, huh?”

You can hear his immediate frustration in the blaster scraping against the shelf over your head, and you moan softly around his cock the second you feel him tense and start firing.  The smooth skin pulses on your tongue and you slide your fingers around the backs of his knees, opening your throat and slowly taking him deeper.  

And, for a man that has repeatedly fired six perfect shots every single time he picks up his gun, he falters after just three this time.

The heat of your mouth must be too overwhelming.  Too fucking good, too detrimental to his focus and composure to even perform the most basic tasks he typically excels at.  Like a seasoned mathematician that suddenly struggles to count to ten, a renowned author that can’t recite their ABC’s—Mando can’t even fire a weapon right now and it’s all because of you.  

He has to keep trying though, he has to make an actual effort now that you both know someone nearby is paying at least some sort of attention to his performance.  The sound of more plasma arcing through the air over your head slowly disappears into the background in a way that it never could while you were the one firing—you’re completely hidden and safe down here, you can moan low in your throat while keeping your hands around his knees and begin to bob your head without another thought or worry whatsoever.  Handling it is all on him.  He just needs to stay quiet, be still, and shoot his gun.  It should be the simplest thing in the galaxy for him, right?

Wrong.  So wrong.  You hear the way the bolts are pinging off the sides of the target now, you listen to him grunt and let off a few more shots that also sound like they miss.  Your soft palate lifts and you’re practically drenching yourself at how wide he stretches your throat while you take him down as far as you can, and there’s a moment where you’re holding there and you think about doing something about the dull ache throbbing between your legs.  But once you pull off him for air and automatically touch your drooling tongue to your palm, you decide this is what you want more.

Your slick hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly jerk him off while your mouth moves down to attach to his balls once more, your touch gliding strong and wet along his entire length.  Din almost doubles over into the platform, his hips stuttering up for the first time at the hard stimulation you’re finally giving him.  His skin swells and tightens in your mouth—you can feel the tension locking his thighs down, you can hear the shots above you start to decrease in frequency, and you know he’s already close.

So you move back up to suck on the head of his cock again and slowly swirl your tongue around it, continuing to use your hand to pull steady and firm on the rest of his shaft, and you just close your eyes and wait for him to give you what you want.  His firing soon stops altogether and you squeeze your finger between your thighs and press hard against your clit, just needing to relieve some of the ache.  You keep doing that, you keep drawing circles with your tongue while slowly jerking the rest of him off into your mouth, and at some point, it all just becomes too much for him.

“Shit,” Din gasps, along with the sudden sound of metal skittering against the clay above you, and your eyes pop open in surprise.  “Ah, sh—shhhhh—”

Maker, did he just drop his fucking gun?

You start to pull back, but then suddenly a trembling hand shoots down and clutches tight under your throat, hooking hard behind your jaw to make sure you stay right there.

His cock starts throbbing and he shudders, slamming his other palm on the shelf and cumming hard in your mouth.  You’re already swallowing before he even gives you anything but Maker, you’re fucking desperate for it that your hand moves to curl your fingers against the exposed skin at his hips as if that’ll somehow help you get it sooner.  The first taste of him comes as soon as you dig in and drag your nails down his flesh, and Din is helpless to do anything else besides clutch your jaw tight and gasp raggedly while emptying himself down your throat.

He shakes and shudders and you don’t spill a single drop, clutching his hips and pulling him close to keep him in your mouth, and as he slowly comes down from that plateau, you lick every inch of him clean.  His fingers gradually lose their rigidity around your jaw and eventually, his fingers drop down to press gently against your throat while his hips pull back.

He slips from your mouth and you wipe the wetness from your chin, staring up at his cock wistfully and almost wanting to keep going.  Is that fucked up, you wonder?  What would he think?

He hasn’t moved yet, why isn’t he moving?  Your job is clearly finished here, no matter what kind of way you may feel about that.  The coast must not be clear, you have to assume.  Perhaps someone is wandering around behind him, maybe he’s still being cautious about the nosy person next door—all you know is that you can tell he wants to move but he isn’t, which likely means he can’t.  You know his cock must be so unbelievably sensitive right now, but he’s not easing his body back far enough away from the shelf to tuck it into his pants.  He’s keeping it right in front of your face and expecting you to stay there until he deems it appropriate for you to get up.

The longer you wait for him to step back and let you out from under here, the more your need sparks and grows.  What would he think?  That you’re so desperate for his cock that you still want it in your mouth even when it’s soft and spent?  Maker, he’d be fucking right on the money.

At some point, you can’t stop yourself.  You lean back up to slowly take his soft cock back in your mouth, and Din nearly spasms while you slip your hand under your waistband and widen your knees.

You don’t do anything spectacular to it—you’re not that cruel—but you do hold him on the heat of your tongue and keep him there, fluttering your eyes closed as your finger finally touches your clit.  Air puffs shakily through your nostrils and you think Din is actually shaking harder than you are, his body fighting oversensitivity while yours starts the race towards bliss.  He doesn’t stop you but it also feels like he’s purposefully trying not to, like everything in him is rebelling against the wet heat of your mouth but knowing you’re only doing this because you’re so painfully turned on.  You’re doing this because you need it, in spite of the electric shocks of wicked sensation it seems to be inspiring in him.

Your finger speeds up and you start gently sucking on the warm, giving flesh, and his hand trembles as it grabs at your hair.  Fuck, you don’t care if he thinks you’re desperate—you want him to recognize it, you want him to know exactly how much you love his cock—

That thought sends a dark thrill down your spine and pleasure burns bright and needy where you’re still rubbing your clit, dropping your hips and rolling them forwards against your hand.  And oh, your only lament is that you wish he was the one doing this.  You wish Din was building your pleasure instead of letting you use his body in search of your own, you wish it was his hand working between your legs and about to shove you over that ledge, but then again.  Something about this whole fucking scene is just so… undignified.  Debased.  And you’re getting off on it, quicker than you ever thought possible.

When you cum, you’re good and you don’t make a single sound when you cum.  You squeeze your eyes shut and your entire body jolts with every single shattering wave of ecstasy, and Din tugs a handful of your hair and slowly rocks his hips once, twice, fucking your mouth while you endure wildfire burning through your veins.  By the time you finish convulsing on the fucking floor of a Tatooinian gun range, you know you can go for another and probably get it equally as quick as that one, but Din is already pulling his cock out of your mouth and shoving it back into his pants.  You’re like jelly as your elbow is immediately caught in his arm and you’re hauled up from your hiding spot, dazed and disoriented.

The chrome visor stares you down and you want to shrink in on yourself, thinking he’s going to take your happy ass back to the Crest.  You should be in trouble, you know you should be in trouble.  Leaving the recesses of your dark cubby and coming face to face with your surroundings brings a brand new clarity to light—you totally should not have done any of that.  He was trying to teach you, for Maker’s sake.  He was taking the time to show you the valuable knowledge he’s gained regarding weaponry and self-defense.  Fuck, you even told him on Naboo that you wanted to shoot a gun, and he brought you here to do just that.

Except then he just spins you around and picks up the blaster from the adobe ledge in front of you, placing it firmly in your hands.

“Okay,” he pants quietly next to your ear, breathing hard and shallow through the helmet.  “Now you should be able to focus, right?”

Fuck…  Fuck, is he serious?  You can barely hold the damn thing, you’re shaking so hard.  How does this work again?  What does this do?

“Wh-What?”  You croak—fuck, your voice is gone.  “I… I can’t—”

“Try,” he encourages, helping your comparatively tiny hands flip off the safety but other than that, stepping back and leaving you to it.  Completely and hopelessly lost, you weakly twist around to watch him stand next to the kid’s closed metallic shield.  “Hit the target,” Din reiterates with a nod, trying to catch his breath.  “You can do it.”

You look back out with unfocused eyes to see it still all the way on the far end of its track, and there’s just absolutely no fucking way.  “I… can’t.”

“Hit the target and we can go home,” he tells you, and while you don’t exactly know what home is anymore, something tells you it’s somewhere in hyperspace.  A resting baby, a metal floor, a pitch black hull, and your cheek pressed against a warm chest.

It sounds… wonderful.

Inspiring a newfound kind of desire in you, you lift your arms as best you can and work so, so hard to keep them steady.  The target is in your sights and you do your absolute best—fuck, you really do, but you pull the trigger and the shot sadly bounces off the edge.

You drop your hands, already defeated and drained.  “I can’t.”

“Hit the target and I’ll buy you a blaster,” he ups the ante, and you instantly lift your dead arms again.  Fuck, come on, come on, you can do this.

You shoot.  Nope.  So you shoot again.  And then you shoot again, and again, minutely adjusting your wrists purely based on where the bright red plasma is landing and ignoring the scope entirely.

“A nice one,” he continues over the pew pew pew of you just continuing to fucking miss, fucking miserably, over and over again.  “Expensive.  Hand-crafted, one of a kind…”

Miss, miss, miss, and—no.  Just, no.  There’s only so much glaring failure you can take before you snap.  You finally stop shooting and growl in frustration, going to slam the metal down on its resting place.  “Mando, I ca—”

“Hit the target and I’ll marry you,” he says quietly, and you freeze just before impact.

… What?  N… No…

Miraculously, you somehow manage to calmly switch the safety on and set the blaster down before turning back to see the helmet staring at you, unmoving.

You… you know it must just be a joke, right?  Just a stupid extension to the one he made earlier, it must be.  You blink dumbly at him and flick your gaze between the visor and two large black eyes staring at you from the crib, wondering if you glitched or if you’re just hallucinating.

“Uh…” you hear yourself say, even though you’ve got absolutely nothing, but Din doesn’t offer anything else to fill in the gaps of your startled misunderstanding.  If you didn’t have such a wild fucking reaction to the words, you'd probably wonder if he actually said them or not—that’s how much he gives away.  Silent, so unbelievably silent when you’re begging him to give you at least something.  Is he messing with you again?  Is he just that confident that you’re going to fail?

It takes forever for you to turn back around and face the target, but you eventually do when he refuses to elaborate.  Your heart slams in your chest and you wonder what you’re doing even attempting this.

The moment you lift your trembling arms is the moment you know your heart is pounding too fast—your finger twitches with the wild rush of blood flow and you end up pulling the trigger way before you’re ready.  You fire before you’ve checked your sights, you fire before you’ve taken any sort of aim whatsoever, you fire spontaneously enough to surprise even yourself and it—

—it hits dead center.

Your stomach drops and a jolt of some rabid feeling punches through you, you have no idea what it is.  You whip around so fast that you get dizzy, seeing him standing there, completely still.

“That was just beginner’s luck,” you quickly reassure him, suddenly feeling faint.  Holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck just happened?  “Listen—hey, no, listen, I can’t get it again,” you explain shrilly to the utterly dead silence from him.  “Look, watch this, double or nothing.”

You spin back around, well aware that absolutely nothing about what you just said or what just happened made any fucking sense at all.  Beginner’s luck when you’ve been consistently awful at this, telling him repeatedly to listen when you’re very, very fucking aware he hasn’t said anything, double or nothing on a literal proposal as if double marriage is something that actually exists?

No.  Shut up.  Don’t even think that word, don’t think about fucking anything.  Fire, fire without thinking, just lift the gun and pull the trigger—

You do, and oh.  Oh, no.

“Uh?!”  Your voice comes out on a squeak, now in a complete fucking panic.  What the fuck?  No fucking way.  Perfect, perfect, the odds are fucking astronomical—another deadly accurate shot.  “Ah, um, okay, scratch everything I said—th-third time’s a charm?”

Wide-eyed and having absolutely no clue what you’re doing at this point, you fail to see Din slowly turn his helmet down and to the right as he stands behind you.  You go to lift your arms and pull the trigger, but then he suddenly reaches out lightning-quick and bumps your elbow upwards at the very last second.  

The abrupt push causes your shot to be angled off course spectacularly and you can’t do anything but look up and gasp in horror, worried it’s going to ricochet off the ceiling and land somewhere this building isn’t architecturally designed to absorb.  There’s just enough time to wildly wonder why the fuck he did that—

—but then, like pure magic before your eyes… the beam of plasma adjusts itself in midair.  

It fucking bends.  Across the length of your entire firing lane, it curves in a downward trajectory and hits the target with absolutely impossible physics.

Your jaw fucking drops and you whip your body around in dumb shock to see Din staring hard at the closed shield next to him.

… that’s not closed.

The baby tilts his head at you and coos happily, one ear tipping up while the other tips down, and you’re completely blown away.  Not only at the entirely unexpected demon-power display, but what specifically he was hoping to get out of it.  You’re still stuck, blinking down at the adorable little goof with abilities you’ll never understand.

Only, a hand suddenly grabs yours and drags you back to yourself.

“We need to leave,” Din says quietly, switching the lid shut on the hovering crib and pushing it towards the booth’s exit while tugging you along behind him.  “I don’t know how many people saw that, we need to leave.”

Sure enough, voices in the next partition over start picking up, likely the only ones in here who had a good enough angle to watch the physically unthinkable shot somehow meet its target, and your adrenaline quickly begins pumping while you keep your head down and power-walk your ass to the door.  You don’t know the kind of consequences that could potentially arise from others witnessing the kid’s literal sorcery, but you know you’d rather not take the chance.  The voices start growing louder as you three make your quick escape, beginning to ask others around them if they just saw that, but you’re already out of the rectangular adobe structure and long gone by the time anybody steps out of their panels to hear the uproarious accusations of cheating beginning to fly.

***

Stay tuned for the next part!

[stealforreal]

Future kids - Todoroki Shoto I

Todoroki meets his children from the future. Part 2 is up now you can find it on my tumblr masters list. Or click [here]

Todoroki Shoto x F! Reader

Warnings: none

Todoroki was understandably confused. One moment he was eating his cold soba in peace and quiet, the next a little girl came barreling into him. Clinging onto his pant leg for dear life, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. Todoroki tensed, even if he was coming out of his shell, dealing with a little child while not having complete control over his flames terrified him. What if he ended up hurting her, when he wanted to help? He refused to be like his father. hurting small children.

A small tug on his leg brought him out of his thoughts, and back to the reality that a young girl probably no older than 6 was clinging to him. He could feel his pants getting wetter by the minute, drenched in the redheaded little princess’ tears. Kneeling down to her height, he put a hand on her head and pattet it gently. It was the only form of comfort he could think of would be appropriate. “ Hey snowflake, where's your parents?” Todoroki asked the little girl, making her look up at the stranger whom she was clinging to. A small gasp escaped her lips, as she began to sob harder and cling to him even more if that was even possible. “ I-Im so so sorry daddy *sniff* I can’t find Ren” Todoroki stiffened. Daddy? He wasn’t a dad, not yet anyways. But that didn’t matter when he was comforting a young girl, so he would play along for the time being. Besides he felt drawn to the little snowflake, maybe it was the fact that she was comfortable enough to seek comfort from him. Maybe it was the fact that she looked like him, with beautiful heterochromia eyes, one classic Todoroki cerulean blue and one e/c.

“ Take a deep breath, little snowflake. Can you tell me what year it is?” His usual monotone tone, took on a softer note talking to the girl. He was kneeling at her height, rubbing small circles on her small back, while she clung to his shirt, sobbing in his chest. She looked up at him with her big mismatched doe eyes brimming with tears “ Its 20xx” okay weird that is 15 years in the future, Shoto wasn’t stupid this was probably the work of a quirk. He then proceeded to ask her if she was indeed hit by a quirk.

She told him that apparently her and her twin brother Ren, were playing with some of their friends at a park. But when they were playing tag one of their friends got their quirk, and the twins got separated. When Reina, as she told him her name was, woke up and couldn’t find her twin brother Ren she began to panic. Then she began looking for him, but then she recognized the dual colored hair and ran to him.

In between her telling the story and sniffling quitely, Shoto had picked her up. While she was calming down in his arms, he began making his way back to the campus grounds. Mr.Aizawa would hopefully know what to do, and maybe they would find Ren on the way. It broke his heart to hear her sniffle, his little snowflake crying was heart wrenching. Even if she technically wasn’t born yet, she was still his little snowflake and he would protect her no matter the cost. He was so possessive of his little girl already and he had only met her 1 hour ago, he promised himself then and there that he would be a better father than Endeavor ever was.

Her sniffles and sobs stopped, and her trembling figure relaxed in his hold. He could feel the little one's gaze on him, and he turned his head to her tilting his head a bit to ask what was wrong. “ Why do you look so young, daddy? '' She asked with the little innocent voice of an angel, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at her question. “ Well my little snowflake, right now I’m 16 and you haven’t exactly been born yet. I’m guessing your friend's quirk is something along the lines of time travel” he patiently explained to her, she nodded her head along as if she understood him. And if she inherited his intelligence, she just might have understood what he just told her completely.

The walk back to the dorms were filled with idle chatter, Shoto asking Reina about his future and how he was as a father. To which she exclaimed with a bright toothless smile ‘Daddys the best daddy in the whole world’ and he was so relieved that he wasn’t a horrible father like his own was to him. He ended up stopping for a minute so Shoto could pepper her with small soft kisses all over her cute slightly chubby cheeks. Her squeals of excitement warmed his heart, and a soft smile made its way on his face.

To onlookers they looked like a cute set of siblings, and small aw’s and so cute were heard in the background. But inside their little bubble, nothing could burst Shoto’s happiness at knowing he wouldn’t repeat his fathers mistakes. The long walk back to the dorms felt a lot shorter with his little snowflake talking his ear off. It was adorable really, she stumbled over a few words every once and awhile. She told him all about her and Ren’s adventures, how they accidentally froze their teacher when Ren got his quirk, and how he had to come and free the teacher.

Shoto was inexplicably happy that Ren got his quirk from his mothers side. But one thing caught his attention was the mention of their mother. He realized that Reina not once had mentioned her name, and as much as Shoto would hate to admit it he was beyond curious as to who he would ultimately spend his life with. A big part of him hoped that it was you, since he had finally found out what the fuzzy feeling he had around you was. Yep Todoroki Shoto was utterly and completely enamored by you, your personality was sweet and you would do anything for family and friends. Alongside Midoriya you were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

The closer to the dorms the two Todorokis came, the more his curiosity nagged him to ask his daughter who her mother was. When he could see the height alliance building a little longer down the road, his curiosity won. “ Snowflake, you never told me your mom's name. '' Reina brightened when he asked about his future wife, a big tell that his little girl adored her mother as much as she adored her father. '' Silly daddy, mom's name is Todoroki y/n of course, ``she said giggling. A bright smile adorned his handsome features as Todoroki stepped into the dorm's living room with Reina still in his arms with her head on his shoulder.

Class 1-A consecutively looked towards the door when it opened. They were trying to calm down the child that was crying on their sofa, who also happened to look suspiciously like their dual haired classmate. The young boy had dual colored hair and cerulean blue eyes, his hair was half white and half y/h/c. The child was obviously confused and scared, and had only stopped wailing when Kaminari short circuited. But alas he was still sobbing and the class was almost out of ideas. He had been asking about his parents, and calling for a person named Reina.

There in the door stood a smiling Todoroki, holy damn was the world ending. But what also caught their attention was the little redhead in his arms hugging him, the little girl's voice reached them and their jaws dropped. “ Daddy, is this the place you and mommy met?” It was such an innocent question, but 1-A was in a frenzy, so much so that they didn’t notice the little boy springing up from the couch and dashing toward Todoroki and the girl. They only came back to earth when a small happy “Daddy” was heard.

Todoroki was about to answer Reina’s question, when he heard the little cry “Daddy”. He turned his head towards the sound and so did Reina, she began bouncing in Shoto’s arms. “ Ren '' She shouted, making Shoto bend down and extend his arm that wasn’t holding Reina. Ren launched himself into Shoto’s chest, and Reina began hugging her twin brother as much as she could in their fathers embrace. “ Don’t worry my little snowflake, daddy’s got you” He whispered softly, calming Ren immediately. The rest of the class stood gobsmacked, daddy?

“Now my little snowflakes, let's go find Mr. Aizawa, so you can go home” Shoto’s arms were full, his little boy on one arm and his little girl on his other arm. How is he supposed to open the door? “ Midoriya, would you come with me to open the door?” Shoto’s tone was monotone as always, but slightly softer in the presence of his children. Midoriya simply nodded dumbfounded, nobody said a word. What were they supposed to say, with all the daddy claims, and seeing the children in the arms of their classmate confirmed it. They looked like the spitting image of the dreamy heterochromia boy, but with some tweaks. There were the y/h/c and the girls one e/c eye, that obviously must’ve come from their mothers side.

On the way to the teacher dormitories, the twins talked excitedly with each other, while Shoto explained the situation to Midoriya. Midoriya felt like he had seen the features on the twins that certainly didn’t come from Todoroki’s side, but with how much they looked like their father it was nearly mission impossible.

Coincidentally on her way to Mr. Aizawa as well, you spotted the tuft of green hair and tufts of red and white hair. Hm, must be on their way to Mr.Aizawa as well you thought. Jogging up to them, you poked Midoriya’s shoulder. Even if you were in class 1-B, you had a pretty good friendship with the cute green haired cinnamon roll. Your quirks were similar in a sense, since yours was a boost of strength as well. Not nearly as strong as Midoriya’s, but still. That is why you were training partners, and through him you had met his friend circle. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see Midoriya and Todoroki together.

But when they turned to you, you were left flabbergasted by the two cuties in Todoroki’s arms. Before the boys could react, Ren began squirming chanting ‘mommy’. Shoto sat him and Reina down, because she too began squirming once they caught sight of you. The two children that were previously in Todoroki’s arms, now tackled you in a hug. “Daddy look, we found mommy” they said in unison. Two children around 6 years old launching at you, could make even the best of them fall on their butts. Which was exactly what happened, they were squeezing you as tight as their small forms would allow.

Choosing to ignore the small ‘mommy and daddy’ comment, you carefully scooped them up in your arms. The look that Shoto gave you was enough to go along with this little charade, he looked at the three of you like you were his entire world. His eyes were shining with happiness, and his lips quirked up in a small smile. Lightly bouncing the ecstatic but sleepy children in your arms, you turned your attention to the two males before you. “ You wouldn’t happen to need Mr.Aizawa as well, would you?” You raised a knowing eyebrow. The two boys nodded, and you began walking again towards the teachers dormitory. You sent Todoroki a small pointed glare, silently commanding him to explain the situation.

The walk to the teachers lounge felt shorter than usual, since your attention was occupied. Todoroki explained his theory that a quirk sent the twins to the past, and that the two of you were their parents. As crazy as that sounded it made so much sense, and looking at the children you would lie if you said you didn’t see the resemblance. Midoriya explained how Ren was crying before Todoroki arrived, and how confused they were when they heard the little boy yelling ‘daddy’. Ren was probably the most scared, since he didn’t recognize anyone in his panicked state. Besides, most of the students probably look a lot different in the future, so it's kind of a miracle that the twins recognized you. Shoto will always be pretty easy to recognize, with his distinct hair, eyes and the showstopping scar. It complimented the handsome teen next to you so well, no wonder he was one of UAs top heartthrobs. Stopping for a second, you just realize something. If the twins in your arms are you and Todoroki's, then that means that you ended up scoring the half-n-half quirk user. Nothing could wipe the shiteating grin that made its way on your face, eliciting concerned and curious glances from the males beside you.

Mr.Aizawa had his fair share of strange situations. He had been teaching at UA for some time, and student’s quirks weren’t always a walk in the park. Never had he ended up in a situation quite like this though, he had to rub his eyes twice to make sure it was real. In front of him were 2 out of Class-1A’s trouble makers and one of his favorite students from Class-1B, they had two small children with them. Easily recognized as twins, and they looked like the half - n- half troublemakers children.

This was going to be a long night.

[mypoisonedvine]

The Kind of Girl You Take Home to Mom (part 3 - FINALE) | Andy Barber x reader

(part 1) (part 2)

summary: andy knows how to take what he wants, and he wants you.

word count: 5.6k 

warnings: SMUT, subtle dubcon elements, loss of virginity, infidelity (obviously), wedding ring kink (shocking!!! jk), 

a/n: wow, after all this time I FINALLY finished this series.  sorry it took so long.  I still have an alternate ending that I want to write... but I wanted to go ahead and get this out first.  thank you everyone for your patience!  I kind of expect this to flop despite being the most requested thing ever, but idgaf.

“Honestly?  I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends.”

For the second time that day, you choked.

“Wh— are you okay?” Jacob gasped, running over to you as you coughed up water.

Your attempt to respond was useless as you could only sputter and cough, trying to communicate that you were fine with a casual wave, but only managing to flail your arm wildly.

“Was it something I said?” he pressed.

“No, I just—” you wheezed, but interrupted yourself with another coughing fit as your eyes watered from the lack of air.

He slapped your back to try to help you along but it wasn’t very effective, just adding one new source of pain to your predicament.  I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends, that was what he’d said.  What does that even mean?  Did he mean it like “I always had this fear, for no good reason,” or did he mean it like “I was always afraid of this, and now it’s come true”?

The way Jacob was looking at you— kind, concerned, patient— it didn’t seem like he suspected you of anything.  He probably would’ve led with that if he knew something, right?

When your airways finally cleared and you were able to start catching your breath, you finished getting ready for bed quickly and hopped into bed.  You couldn’t handle any long conversations with Jacob, though you tolerated some cuddling before you fell asleep.

You dreamt that night that you were drowning.  Andy was holding you, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he pulled you to shore.  Or was he pulling you under?  Either way, you figured you’d had enough water in your lungs for one day.

~

You probably should’ve let them win at Scrabble… you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I have…” Jacob trailed off as he counted in his head, “177 points.”

“209,” Laurie announced, reaching over to rub Jacob on the shoulder sympathetically.  “Sorry, honey.”

“384,” Andy grinned, setting down his pen and pad triumphantly and looking to you for your score.

“Um,” you stalled, almost embarrassed to say now.  “I got, uh, 559.”

Laurie and Jacob erupted into sputters of confusion, demanding that you recount your points as if they hadn’t all seen you play ‘quixotic’ on a triple word space.

“Good game,” Andy murmured with a soft smirk as he stood up and left the table.  You smiled back at him quickly, the other two too busy recounting the numbers on your pad to even notice.

So, that was the end of board games for the night.  Jacob suggested a movie but you just knew that would just be you and him cuddling under one blanket… while Laurie and Andy cuddled under another.  You weren’t sure you could take that.  Instead, you decided to read your book outside— even though you figured Laurie was disappointed you didn’t want to do anything more social.  Complimenting her beautifully landscaped backyard eased the blow, though.

It was hard to get comfortable on the patio couch, not because of the couch itself but because you knew it wouldn’t be long until somebody bothered you.  When you heard the door open, you were a little disappointed to see Jacob approaching you.

“Hey,” he smiled, sliding in next to you on the couch and wrapping an arm around you.  

“Hey,” you greeted in reply, slightly flat in your affect as you immediately dove back into your book.

“You’re feeling okay, right?  We could go for a drive if you need some space,” he offered, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“No, I’m alright,” you mumbled.  “You know me, I like my peace and quiet when I can get it.”

“You… like them, don’t you?”  He must’ve sensed that you didn’t understand what he was referring to at first.  “My family, I mean.”

“Oh!  Yeah, that’s not the issue, really.  I know we’re going back home tomorrow but I still need to decompress a little bit.  I’ll be more social tonight, promise.”

When you looked up at him, his face was closer than you’d anticipated.  It reminded you of when you two met, at a party where the music was so loud that you’d had to stand about this close to be able to carry a conversation.  Well, technically that wasn’t the first time you met, because you had him in one of your classes that semester, but it was the first time you’d talked.  He was fun, he was new, he was friendly.  I can’t stay long, I’ve got a test in the morning, you’d yelled your explanation.  You’re gonna ace it anyway, he had dismissed at the time, so you should stay and have fun!  You deserve to have fun.

Maybe that was what had made you attracted to him: you couldn’t think of anyone else who had been so worried about what you deserved.  But now, Andy was added to that list.  You hated to imagine that Jacob had inherited that nature from his father.  Is he treating you right? Andy has asked you that night, and you really weren’t sure even now what the answer was.  He certainly wasn’t treating you poorly, but was that enough?  

Back in reality (and not in your whizzing, anxiety-ridden thoughts), Jacob leaned in and kissed you softly.  The kiss was just like him: patient, gentle, but also somehow energetic.  It was… nice.  Comfortable.  Feeling a surge of boldness, you set your book aside and leaned into him, pushing the kiss a little deeper.

He let out a tiny little noise, nearly a moan, as your tongues began to slide together.  His hand reached up to cradle the back of your head— you remembered that he did that a lot when you were making out, but all those times felt so foreign now.  Your hands reached up to rub against his chest through his t-shirt; that dark maroon one he wore all the time, so much that it was forming a few holes at the hem.  His hand slid down to your back and—

“Am I interrupting something?” Andy’s voice tore you both from the moment and from each other’s arms.

“Dad!” Jacob protested, sounding particularly immature with the way his voice rose to a shrill yelp of shock.

“I was just coming out here to let you know that your mother wants your help with dinner,” Andy explained, “but I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to embarrass you like that go by.”

“You never do,” Jacob sighed, giving you a quick kiss to the cheek as a goodbye as he stood up and walked inside.  You felt Andy’s eyes on you as you looked to the ground awkwardly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.  A few seconds after the door was shut, he spoke again.

“I couldn’t let you two get too hot and heavy, and besmirch this innocent patio couch.”

“You’d better not be mad at me for kissing my boyfriend,” you frowned as you stood up.  “That’s the most normal thing that’s happened all weekend.”

“I’m not,” he assured, beginning to step closer to you.  “Jealous?  Slightly.  Not that I see him as competition or anything.”

“Uh, you probably should,” you disagreed, raising your eyebrow in a mix of confusion and challenge.  

“Honey, I saw you kissing.  It was nothing to write home about,” he laughed.  “He doesn’t seem to realize that, since he brought you here.  Can’t blame him—-” he stepped closer to you and ever-so-delicately brushed his fingers against your arm— “but you know you can do better.  You know nobody can make you feel like I do.”

“Andy,” you murmured, trying to step back as you glanced to the window by the backdoor, through which the both of you were clearly visible to anyone who sat in the living room.  It was empty now, but it was too close for comfort.  “Someone could see…”

“They’re in the kitchen, don’t worry,” he soothed, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek and neck, “nobody’s gonna see us, angel, s’just you and me…”

You didn’t want to, but you melted into his touch anyway.  Just those little circles that his fingers drew on your back made your entire body erupt in shivers.  “Andy,” you found yourself whispering as if you needed to remember who was doing this to you.

“I’m gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered against your ear.  

Your breath caught in your throat.  

“Are you scared?” he teased.  “Afraid my cock’ll split you in half?”

Embarrassed, you nodded.

He grinned, pulling back from your neck to force you into a deep, dominating kiss.  You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to his shoulders, eagerly allowing his tongue access as it pressed into yours.  A little moan escaped you, causing him to pull your body even closer.  You had worried that kissing the two of them in a row like this would lead to an inevitable comparison, which would be beyond disgusting.  But nope, this kiss made you forget that you’d kissed Jacob at all.  Not that that exactly stopped it from being disgusting.

You knew if you didn’t stop yourself now, you wouldn’t be able to soon… and you really needed this kiss to end before you two got caught.  Pushing on his chest, you pulled back with a sigh.

“We shouldn’t—” you began.

“No, you’re right,” he agreed with a reluctant nod.  Still, you missed his touch now that it was gone.  “We’ll have plenty of time for that later.  It’s just hard to keep putting on a happy face when all I want is to grab you and bend you over the table and—”

“Oh god, you can’t talk like that,” you laughed nervously.  “You’re gonna drive me crazy, I swear.”

“Haven’t I already?” he smirked.

You nodded, because he was completely right.  With a quick wave, you opened the door to step into the house.  He called your name, getting your attention as you turned around.  In his hand, arm outstretched, was your book.  “Almost forgot this,” he smiled.

“Right, thanks,” you nodded, taking it and going back inside.

~

You spent the rest of the day reaching new heights of anxiousness.  Shaking your leg, chewing your lip, scratching your wrist— how could you relax after what Andy had said, how could you act casual?  You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the obvious opportunity to arise and for Andy to be inevitable like he always was.

You weren’t sure how he did it, but he did.  He got Laurie and Jacob to leave you two alone in the house.  With his influential career, he was probably used to getting what he wanted, but you hadn’t anticipated that he was so good at the hard work it took to get those things.

He got you, though.  Not that that took all too much hard work.

“Enjoy the movie you guys!” you told them as they were making their way out the door.  Jacob leaned in for a goodbye kiss, and softly asked one last time if you wanted to come.  

He pulled your shirt up over your head, and you hadn’t even gotten it all the way off before he undid your bra with a quick motion.  You hated to think about Jacob in that moment, but those few times you’d fooled around with him to this extreme, that part of the process had taken quite a bit longer.

When your breasts were free his hands latched onto them instantly; the rough pads of his fingers felt good against the sensitive skin, and his hands were so damn big.  You felt your back arching into his touch.

“Can’t wait to get my mouth on these,” he purred, “but I need to see all of you first.”

You yelped as he picked you up and tossed you back onto the bed.  He took off your socks first, which made you feel a little hot for some reason, and then reached down to pull at your shorts.  You lifted your hips to make it easier, looking up at him and gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.

As he tossed your shorts and underwear aside, you suddenly felt very naked compared to his clothedness.  Probably because you were completely naked and he was completely clothed.  He smiled down at you before grabbing your ankles and resting them on his shoulders, starting to kiss up your leg slowly while never breaking eye contact.

You whined impatiently.  “Andy, please, need you…”

“Shh,” he soothed, “we’ve got time baby, I finally got you all to myself and I’m gonna savor it.”

His lips moved up your calf and thigh, but irritatingly skipped anywhere salacious to get straight to your hips and belly.  “Hnng, Andy—” 

You choked on your words when he licked over your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.  It instantly hardened between his lips and he smiled.  “Baby, you’re so sensitive,” he cooed against your skin as he kissed his way to the other and did the same.

Your hips bucked up and made contact with his clothed thigh; you let out a high-pitched moan and did it again, rubbing yourself against his suit pants.  The rough material sent shocks of pleasure through you as Andy smiled and left little love bites along your neck.

"Look at you, such a needy little girl," he tsked.  "Rubbing your cunt on me like a whore.  You're gonna make a mess, baby."

"'m sorry I just— oh, fuck," you sighed, your head falling back onto the pillow with a soft thud.

"It's only fair," he shrugged.  "I don't mind spending the rest of the night with your come on my slacks.  So long as you spend it with my come still in your cunt."

You gasped, trying to imagine how you would hide that from Laurie and Jacob…

But you couldn’t keep on that train of thought for very long as he started to kiss down your stomach again.

“Please, Andy, need— fuck, I need you to— um, taste me, please,” you whimpered.

“Hmm, beg a little more,” he smirked.

It was a long line of nonsense after that; some barely-intelligible string of ‘please’ and ‘Andy’ with a little flair of embarrassing whining.  He laughed a little before he finally did what you’d asked, latching his lips onto your swollen clit.  Your back arched instantly as your hands clenched at the comforter beneath you.

It wasn’t at all like you’d imagined it would be— it was so warm, and he alternated between surrounding you with his mouth and teasing you with the tip of his tongue.  You let out a long, deep moan when his tongue slipped inside you, twisting and massaging your walls so perfectly.  Your hands carded through his hair, accidentally tightening and pulling when he licked right over your clit.  He didn’t seem to mind, though, just moaning against you and doing it again and again and again until your legs were quivering. 

Just as you were about to tell him that you were close, he instantly pulled away to speak.  “I can tell you’re close,” he purred as if he’d read your mind.  

“Please, don’t stop,” you begged, but he continued to sit up and started to open his belt.

“It’s not time to come yet, honey.  It’s gonna feel so much better when you come while I’m inside you— for both of us,” he grinned.

As his sweater was discarded and his trousers were pushed down, you bit your lip.  You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing his cock, especially when it had leaked enough pre-cum to leave a wet patch on his boxer briefs.

He was on you the second he’d finished stripping, caging in your body with his, growling as he started to kiss your neck.  You whined and arched your back, your heart racing as you tried to cope with the fact that this was happening, this was really happening.  It was surreal, or maybe it was more than real— you were going to lose your virginity.  To Andy fucking Barber.

“I think you’re ready for me, don’t you?” he asked teasingly, his hips moving forward to press his cock against your inner thigh.  You nodded as you swallowed thickly, gasping as he reached down and started to rub his swollen head through your folds.

“Please…” you sighed, even as your chest tightened with distant fear.

You had wondered if what he'd said about his marriage to Laurie being sexless was true.  It certainly would be a convenient lie to garner your sympathy and make him look better.  But you had no doubts it was the truth when he pushed his cock into you; he moaned like a man who had dreamed of this moment for years, who had been so deprived of affection for so long.  

It hurt less than you’d expected, although it was certainly overwhelming.

“Oh fuck, Andy,” you moaned,

“Say my name again, baby,” he demanded with a groan.

“Andy!” you repeated, a little louder right as the tip of his cock hit so deep inside you that it hurt— and for some reason, you wanted him to do it again.

“Fuck, you need to be quiet, or the neighbors’ll hear you,” he hissed as he pumped into you deeper and faster.  “Can you do that or do I need to choke you to shut you up?”

You whimpered from fear at that idea and he laughed a little.  

“Don’t act so innocent, baby, I know who you really are: you’re my dirty little slut.”

“No I’m—” you began to disagree.  A quick slap to the face, not too hard but stinging nonetheless, shut you up.

“You know you are,” he hissed, “so say it.”

You could barely carry this conversation, his cock filling you so completely that you couldn’t think about anything else.  “Andy, I—”

“Say it.”

You gulped but managed to pant between heavy breaths, “I’m…  I’m your dirty little slut, Andy…”

He grinned and began to move faster, deeper, somehow.  You clutched at his shoulders, kissing him and groaning into his mouth.  When his hips slammed into yours, you moaned louder than maybe you ever had before.  "You want it rough, honey?” he taunted.  “Want me to fuck you hard?"

"Yes, please!" you sobbed, your voice hoarse and desperate now.

He grabbed your hips and made good on his offer of brutality, and then some, making you nearly scream.  He kissed you again, perhaps in an attempt to keep you quiet, although it didn’t work that well, as you mouth fell open with every cry.  His teeth captured your lip as he growled above you, holding your hips up so the angle was perfect to send his cock right into the end of you, so deep— too deep, in the most perfect way.

His cock stroking against your walls was indescribable; each thrust made your entire body erupt in shivers.  The stretch was difficult but you loved it, you loved the way his body pushed yours to its limits.  

"Gonna come inside you, honey," he moaned, "gonna fill you up so good, gonna mark your body with my come and make you mine."

"Oh god, Andy, please," you sobbed.

"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he encouraged.

“Yes, so close—” you cut yourself off as you choked on nothing, you entire body beginning to tighten and seize up as pleasure spiralled higher and higher.

“Just like that, come on my cock,” he demanded, but you couldn’t do anything else even if you tried— the coil snapped as your vision went spotty.  Just as you started to close your eyes, he held your neck and stared down at you.  “Look at me when I make you come.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open with the intensity of sensation washing over you, but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed.  Those blue eyes pierced through you as you shivered underneath him, and with your walls constricting his cock just felt even thicker inside you.  “Andy,” you whimpered, your fingers and toes erupting into pins and needles as you felt him flexing inside you— and he must have been coming in you in that moment, with the way he sighed and his thrusts pumped deeper yet more erratically.

Warmth spilled inside you as numbness decorated your extremities and fogginess clouded your mind.  You lost focus as he collapsed beside you— even when he pulled out, you still felt full, due in part to his come inside you and in part to being ruined so thoroughly by him.  Maybe you’d feel normal again tomorrow, or next week, but right now it was impossible to forget that you were fucked, in every sense of the word, by Andy Barber.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck slowly, his breathing slowly returning to a stable pace as his chest pressed against your back.  He was mumbling something about how you were his girl, how you did so good for him, but you were already drifting into sleep even though it was barely nine o’clock.

You woke up the next morning in the guest room with Jacob beside you, who informed you that he’d found you already asleep when he got back from the movie he’d gone to see with his mom.

You left just a few hours later, waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Barber as Jacob pulled the car out of the driveway.

three months later...

The sun was just starting to set as you made your way home after your last class of the night.  Campus was gorgeous at this time of day, but you weren’t really taking the time to notice it as you focused instead on how wonderful it would feel to kick your shoes off, slip off your bra and slide into bed.  What you didn’t anticipate when you unlocked your dorm room’s door was to find Andy sitting on your bed as he waited for you.  You shut the door quickly so none of the girls mulling about the hall would see him.

He looked so out of place in your dorm.  He was so… adult, and yes, everyone there was an adult, but he was a whole new level of adulthood compared to the other residents of the honors dorm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you reminded him.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he questioned casually.

“Because your son is on the other side of the hall,” you explained, unamused.  “What if he sees you here?  What if he sees your car in the garage?”

“You worry too much.  I don’t give a fuck if my son lives nearby, if I wanna visit my girlfriend then I’m gonna do it.”

He’d never used that word for you before— or at least, not in front of you.  It made you feel nervous, glancing to the floor as he stepped closer towards you.  "I think I'm too young to be your girlfriend,” you decided.

"Perfect age for a mistress, though."

You stammered as you tried to balance the way that word made you feel sick with the way it made you feel aroused.  He lifted your chin with a finger, his other hand pulling you closer at the waist.  "Are you trying to act innocent, honey?” he smirked.  “Do you think I didn't realize that it turns you on?"

"Wh-what turns me on?"

"The sneaking around.  The secrets, the lies; the fact that it's wrong, forbidden, taboo.  It's why you haven't broken up with my son yet and it's why you stare at my ring all the time— yes, I noticed."

You frowned, crossing your arms impatiently.  “I haven’t broken up with Jacob because my relationship with him makes a great cover for my relationship with you… I’m doing that for us.  And do you think I like the ring?  I hate that stupid chunk of silver, seeing it on your hand makes me so livid because it just reminds me that I don’t have you all to myself and—”

“Baby, you know I’m all yours,” he purred, kissing down your neck as your back began to arch.  “Meanwhile, I have to share you with him.”

You were amazed that he could refer to his own son with such disdain, but then again, you knew how jealous he could get.  

“If you’re mine then take the ring off,” you suggested between panting breaths.

“If you’re mine then take it off for me,” he countered.  His left hand was travelling up your neck and you grabbed it by the wrist.  He pulled back to look at you as you brought his fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of them before sucking on his ring finger, deeper and deeper, until it was poking down your throat and the ring was at your lips.  Lubricating it with your spit and spinning it with your tongue, you used your teeth to pull the ring slowly off of his finger.  He gasped a little as you opened your mouth and displayed it for him on your tongue, before spitting it out and across the room; it made a tiny little clinking noise as it hit your floor.

“Fuck,” he growled, the sound deep in his throat and dripping with desperation.

It felt like his hand never left your neck that night, like he was trying to claim you in every way he could all at once.  He was so possessive over you, ironically.  It was hard not to feel like your whole life was waiting.  Waiting for the semester to end so the next one could begin.  Waiting to graduate and get a job and finally begin your real adult life.  Waiting for the marks Andy left on your skin to fade so you didn’t have to wear a turtleneck in June.

Waiting for Jacob to find out, like he inevitably would.

Waiting for Andy to leave Laurie, or at least do something to make it seem like this was going somewhere.  

The thing about Andy was that he had this magical ability to make you stop worrying, in a way nobody and nothing else could.  When you were apart, reality would set in again and you’d decide you needed to confront him the next time you saw him.  It wasn’t even that you needed him to commit to you, specifically, you just needed to know what was going on— because how could he stay married through all this?  He needed to leave her, not for you but for himself.  You would get yourself all worked up and then he’d show up and soothe you until you forgot what you wanted to say in the first place.  When you were together, the future didn’t matter anymore, and neither did everything that was wrong about what you were doing.

It was like living in a dream, a really strange dream.  You were drowning in him, just like you’d known you would, but you didn’t want to stop.  You didn’t want to stop the secret dates when you gave your friends and boyfriend some excuse about having to study, the rendezvous in the back of his car, the midnight phone calls where he was whispering so his wife wouldn’t hear.

You figured that after all this time of being a good girl— the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend, the kind of girl you’d take home to mom— you deserved to let go.  You deserved to have fun.

[namgee]

cry baby | jjk (m)

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f) ❥genre: smut, pwp, fwb au, university au (barely lol), fluff, 18+ ❥word count: 16.7k  ❥summary:

Jeon Jungkook [Jeon Jeong-gug] noun

1. The friendly (and hot) employee at your local roller rink. 2. Your friend with benefits of 3 months. 3. Someone who’s currently pissed at you for not casting your decisive vote on him in the disco rollerskating contest at his workplace. 4. A vengeful man determined on using his best assets to make you cry.

❥warnings: alcohol, cunnilingus, blowjob, deep throating, slight dom jungkook (?), tattooed jk (that I didn’t mention enough tbh 😩), fingering, rough sex, some overstimulation, some slight edging some spanking, biting (this could have been written as a vampire au lol), light exhibitionism, sex in public places,  reader gives a lot of looks 👀 (let me know if I forgot something) ❥a/n: this story jumps time a bit at the start I actually got confused with the tense since I’m so used to writing in the present tense, hopefully it’s not too confusing and doesn’t mess with the flow of the story, i was trying two new things with this story : writing smut and exploring new story structure, sorry for any spelling mistakes 🥺. any feedback is appreciated ;)) btw the title was inspired by the movie cause jungkook’s looks for the dicon shoot fit it to the T. ❥taglist: @min-nicoleee​ @jeonsjiddies​ @ggukkieland​ 

You really like fucking Jeon Jungkook. 

He is made of just the right ratio of hardness and softness. You can simultaneously take an impromptu seat on the set of hard thighs that made for an irresistible lap. Thighs that still manage to mold themselves into the perfect weapon to attack the ever growing heat in your center. It’s precisely because of how much you like being confined under his heaving torso in the darkness of the night or the crack of dawn that you loved to stir his competitive spirit. 

Jungkook has been working at Diane’s Rink since his sophomore year of high school. Now two years into college and very capable of finding a better paying job he still chooses to remain an employee. The boss, Diane Berry, knows very well about the positive impact his presence has on her business, so she decided long ago to give him some perks apart from the bonus that grows for every year he remained an employee.  

One of the perks is allowing him, as staff, to participate in events held by the rink. From there on Jungkook has won the annual disco roller skating championship “Disco Craze” for four years in a row! A fit that he deserves, he is a great skater after all. 

A year ago you had moved from out of town to attend college. During your minimal sightseeing you come across a poster for the rink and its annual championship at the town hall. It turned out a friend of your roommate, Kyra, was a frequent visitor and was going to participate. 

On a chilly autumn day, the three of you headed to the rink itching for any kind of entertainment. Upon entering, the atmosphere was bubbling, strobe lights colouring smiling faces, people were gathered around the rink already cheering even though the competition wasn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes.

However, the minute you caught sight of what they were all looking at, an understanding nod was all you could give. Right there in the middle of the rink, the body of a well-shaped man clad with snug flare jeans skated effortlessly around as he swept the floor. You watched for a while as he moved around sweeping the same area a total of three times. Wow, he must really love the attention.

The competition started soon after you managed to get some snacks. Everyone clapped as the contestants entered the rink and lined themselves up for presentation. You were close to the rink ready to see it all when the real snack took the stage. 

Your roommate’s friend happened to be good, so good he managed to make you snatch your prying eyes away from “Mr. Swipe the Floor” for a good amount of time. Your attention was however brought back by the matter at hand as the sight of the most perfectly shaped globes of rear meat wrapped in a thin coat of denim passed by your eyes and you felt the urge to tap in. 

His performance on the rink, as if he was born in skates, didn’t help the matter at hand. Just like that, as if you were a primal woman hunting for a suiting partner and he was unaware of performing a nuptial dance, you made your mind then and there to somehow before the time you finish your education have him sweep something else other than the skating floor.

Everyone needs something to motivate them to keep going. Unfortunately for you, after that momentary day there weren’t many opportunities for you to go to attack. You can’t lie, you felt slightly guilty going after an oblivious prey, not that he looked like a prey. However, unknowing to you, your catch would lead to a drastic shift in your roles.

After a couple of months an opportunity finally presented itself. It was a Friday, the day after the fall midterm exam, and it was party time. Knowing fully well that his party royalty friends would drag him there, you figured you should go and try your luck. 

Somehow between finding out Kyra is a hardcore partygoer and getting lost in the enticing swing of the music you forgot about your primary mission. But a quick trip to the restroom, one which forced you to pass dozens of bodies plastered to the wall in pairs of two made sure to remind you of the night’s purpose. 

You searched around for him, a harder task than you had expected as people flocked around him and his friend group. You cursed yourself for the misfortune of having your eyes set on the popular boy with slick hair that’s otherwise hanging in loose waves, tucked behind his ears or in a bun. But it was too late then, you wanted something, someone and you were out to get it. 

In your moment of extreme strength and confidence, all of which were fuelled by Kyra’s weird and possibly slightly poisoning alcohol blend, you gave your best (and thankfully only) shot. Your eyes zeroed in on the man who you had come to know as Jungkook as he continued to socialise with his group of friends. 

The distance between the two of you wasn’t big (you had after all been creeping for most of the night) and no one was exactly looking at you, yet you put on your best stance and strutted confidently towards him. You had talked to Jungkook before for a grand total of two times, both of those instances were in class, so it technically didn’t count. As you approached the large group of people, shivers travelled up your spine at the sight of yet another snug pair of pants paired with a belt that accentuated his waist.

Just for a second you felt jealous and a bit insecure as you stared down at your own form. However, drunk you couldn’t keep her mind one thing for too long unless it was Jeon Jungkook (and some other miscellaneous but important things). The Jungkook that was looking at you as you lifted your head back up. 

FUCK.

You had imagined the first time you caught him looking at you to be very different. You were supposed to look confident, disinterested but still somehow soft. You thought that in some way, because women are amazing, you would have figured out how to make it all work.

Yet there you were looking back, gaze wavering to let yourself catch a breath. You were one hundred percent sure he was making you more intoxicated than whatever it was you drank. 

It was the forehead exposure, coupled with a sweet looking, curious puppy dog face that really made you realise you were fucked and you really wanted to get fucked. That day was your lucky day, maybe he had been  looking for a charity case. Jungkook’s eyes kept trailing past your tight fitting crop top to your fidgeting legs as you curved his group of friends and headed back the way you had come. The drink you had taken in the name of liquid courage had done absolutely nothing to help, but that time you didn’t mind, he had done exactly what you wanted without any prompting from your end. 

Your legs shuffled quickly away from them, crossing your fingers (in your mind of course), hoping his experience with the ladies made the message clear. You walked far enough to see Kyra’s reappearing form and still no sign of Jungkook anywhere near you. Maybe he wasn’t as intuitive as you had thought him to be. Or he was just playing with you the same way you would want to play with him, back and forth to see who would cave in first. 

Your chest deflated the closer you got to Kyra and you didn’t understand the enthusiastic smile she threw your way as she turned her back to you. Hmmm, okay, you guessed that was her way of cheering a friend up. You got near enough to whisper-yell at her about your debacle, but a smooth criminal wannabe named Jungkook got in between and you don’t think you had been any more happy in your life. 

“Thank god,” you whispered to yourself, pussy clenching right back up at the close up sight of his slick hair, the dizzying scent of his surprisingly sweet smelling perfume filling your nose as you attempted to discreetly inhale it all in, only to let out a loud sigh that bordered on a moan. 

“What’s your name?” He asked softly, eyes shifting to your feet to watch you take a small step back. You told yourself you moved to get a better look at him, to be able to be in control, enough to gauge the situation. You and him both knew it was a lie. You lost your footing at the sight of him and the creeping smirk on his lips which his teeth tried to fight away did more than just show his satisfaction.

But now that you were the tiniest bit farther away from him, you made the bold choice of looking up at him. He was still staring at you, everywhere. Face, cleavage, legs, the hands that toyed with the fabric of your pants. All you managed to catch, now that he was that much closer to you, closer than he had ever been and yet it didn’t feel close enough, was the glorious undercut on his head. If you didn’t want to fuck him before, now you definitely do.

He waved a hand in front of your face? Your eyes bulged. “What?” You sounded like a dumbass.

“Your name?” His head leaned closer into your space and your hand awkwardly traveled to swipe past your nose, hoping it was enough protection from his very conscious attack. 

“Hmm right… Y/N.” You gave him a strained smile. You were really straining after all, straining to keep yourself from jumping him in the middle of a room full with people. 

“I’ve seen you at Diane’s Rink before, do you skate?” 

Jungkook was making small talk with you and you never thought you would ever think this but it was weird. Though you couldn’t  control the way your heart skipped at the fact that he had noticed you before. 

“No. I don’t skate. I’m just there because my roommate's friend skates a lot, she introduced me to the place and you know, I thought why not. So like I end up going there whenever, I don’t have specific days or anything, yeah… I just think it’s a dope place to be at. Roller skating is fun and Diane’s Rink is just the right place to do that… yeah but as I said I don’t really skate…” If the amount of finger snaps, lip smacks, and shoulder shrugs inserted in between your reply wasn’t embarrassing enough, the weird skating motion you did with your body took the cake. 

But even through all of that, he chuckled. He chuckled loud enough for you to see his chest vibrate as the skin beside his eyes and nose scrunch up cutely. How? You swear you could have fried eggs on him just a minute ago (yes that’s how hot he was) and now this. Jungkook was already asking too much of your body  and you hadn’t even gotten in his pants yet. He let his soft chuckle die out, head hanging low along with his hair and decided it was time for you to die as he faced your gaze again, tattooed hand brushing through his hair as a full-blown smile adorned his mischievous expression.

Your Jungkook induced trance was broken for a second as you registered the quick floundering of someone’s hand behind him. Kyra’s hand. She made small hearts in front of her eyes only to make a cross with her arms. You gave her a pleading look. You guess it wasn’t enough for Jungkook to ask much of you but then your roommate wanted you to spare the little self control you had left to suppress your full blown heart eyes for a man and his skin tight leather pants.

You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes it would do something to bring your sanity back, anything. Jungkook’s right hand left his jacket pocket as he extended the tattooed hand your way, “You’re cute. By the way, I’m Jungkook.”

No. No. No! Wrong! He was lucky you already knew his name, how the heck did he expect someone to hear anything he says after he calls them cute, big gentle eyes looking at you. Also, have scientists yet to discover extra nerve endings on people’s hands because you’re sure a handshake wasn’t supposed to feel that good and warm. 

You stared at the way his hand surrounded your own. You were barely putting any strength into it (not that you had any). It was all too much for you and you snatched your hand away, shaking it as if you had just touched a hot pan. Now the whole of you had warmed up to an extra degree. 

“I’m going to get us some drinks. Would you like that?” You didn’t  give him any time to properly answer before you were  sprinting past his frame to grab onto Kyra’s arm as you pulled her to wherever the alcohol was. You turned a corner and found a safe place for the two of you to chat.

“Kyra it’s bad. Like really bad,” you whisper-yelled. “He’s all unaffected, making small talk for some weird reason and standing so close I almost, no I actually forget my own name. You know what, maybe I’m trying to catch a fish that’s just too big. I don’t think I’m ready to play with him yet. I should work my way up to the big boss, don’t you think? Maybe start with some hot dude from the sports department then someone from the arts department and then Jungkook from the science department. That’s a foolproof plan. What do you think?” You paced around her, sporting a convincing voice hoping that it was enough to fool your brain into downgrading its desires for a while cause your heart just wasn’t ready for him yet. 

“Hey!” Kyra slapped your arm. “It’s been what? 6, 7, 8 months of you thirsting after a man. Today it ends, my friend. I don’t care! You’re fucking Jeon Jungkook tonight. If that’s the only way for you to get it out of your system so you can notice all the other much better guys you could choose from if you want to have a meaningful and lasting relationship, then my sole mission today is to get his dick into your hole before this party ends.”

You gave her a side eye for her constant critique of your attraction to Jungkook. It is ninety percent physical but you had been around at the rink (only on the days he had a shift of course) to notice another side of him responsible for the growing ten percent of your attraction. But you would never tell that to Kyra. 

“Fine… but like, what do I do? Everything that comes out of my mouth is weird shit or tmi and I’m just flustered okay.” 

“Then don’t talk. Go back in there, give the drink you said you were getting–”

“You were eavesdropping on us?” Your incredulous voice didn’t  even faze her. She just gave you a ‘really?’ look and you put your hands up in surrender.

“Hmm where was I? Right!” She snapped her fingers, “Take him to the dance floor, back it up on him, get him hard, then move away from the crowd a bit and pounce!” She gave you her drink for prep,“From there everything should just progress naturally, maybe y’all will start with a couch make out sesh or just jump directly to the wall one and then find some cramped up place to bone it out, maybe if you’re lucky you will find an empty room.” 

You stared at her, chewing your lips.

“You can do this!” Kyra said, each hand on your respective arms as she gave you a hard stare. “Today, the thirsting ends. Okay, now go get the drinks” She shooed you away. 

“Right, right. I can do this” You pumped yourself up as if you were prepping for a boxing round and honestly it wasn’t too far from the truth with the way his whole presence was making your heart hammer against your chest. 

One drink in each hand you made it back to your spot, surprised and flattered that he stayed put but still nervous for what was to come. You reached out to give him a cup, the hand contact almost making you drop it.

“Hmm, sorry about earlier. I’m just you know, nervous.” You drank from your cup.

“Nervous, why?”

Kyra said no talking.

“Wanna dance?” You asked pointing to the crowd, completely ignoring his question. He shrugged his shoulder, taking a sip from his drink while squinting his eyes at you. He was feeling slightly confused by your behaviour. “Sure, why not?”

You chugged the remaining liquid in your cup, squirmed at the strength of the alcohol and made your first bold move by grabbing his open jacket and pulling him into the hot and sweaty crowd. You took a quick look at him before you did anything else and you were more than pleased to notice that he was patiently waiting for you to do something. 

The drink, the sight of him, the heat in the room and in your core. It was all getting to you and you really wanted to see the arms with which he swipes the rink clean. His muscles were always straining against the black polo shirt he wears during his shifts. But that day he was sporting a white tee under the jacket and you wanted to see and feel them. 

You turned around and lifted your hands to place them behind his shoulders, in his jacket and pushed it off, staring at the ground. “You know, if you’re going to undress me in public you could at least look me in the eye.” You took a deep breath and did just that, slipping the remainder of his jacket off his forearms . “That wasn’t so hard, now was it darling.” He gave you a looped-sided grin.

You were so turned on and yet you chuckled at the pet name. You didn’t hate it, but you didn’t quite like it, yet. It would have sounded much better coming from him in a gruff voice, with you placed under him taking all of him as an endless stream of moans fell out of your mouth. You needed to take another deep breath at the thought of that, hands clenching around the rough fabric of his jacket as your thighs rubbed together to get yourself under control.

“You good there darling. There’s shivers on your arms.” He pointed at you, tongue wetting his lips. 

Your head snapped down to see that he was right. You rubbed your arms as fast as you could. “Let me try,” his hands replaced yours. Safe to say it didn’t help as you shivered more under his touch wishing the floor would swallow you whole. The way you reacted to the absolute minimum when it came to him was getting embarrassing. “Okay, so maybe that didn’t help,” he said and it was time for you to give a side eye, to which he chuckled, again.

Instead he brought up the jacket in your hands and dressed you in his clothes. It was way too big, but it was warm and the smell of him warded off all the sweat odour from the dance floor. You slapped your thigh, you really needed to focus. The steps were: back it up → make him hard → make out session →  his dick in your hole. It was action time, baby!

You were then staring at the glory that was his chest, oscillating softly under the thin fabric of his tee and your hands ran down his arms, quick after you turned around pulling him closer unfortunately missing the sight of him shivering beneath your trailing fingers.

Your back was glued against the rigid surface of his chest as you went to town, swaying to the beat, your swiftness must have been impressive enough for him to emit a soft whistle. You did your best to suppress the proud smile forming on your lips. You kept at it, hand occasionally reaching back to rub at the back of his hair, only for him to huff and sigh in your ear prompting you to rub your hips further into his. 

It wasn’t long before he was looking for more. His flexed arms caged you, as his right hand ran down your stomach to grip at your thigh just as the other hand kept a tight hold of your hip. You whimpered at his touch, chest caving inwards as your thighs attempted to shut themselves even closer pushing your butt further into his crotch for you to feel it. Strong and prominent. Jungkook hunched over, out of courtesy you thought but you pulled back to continue your tempting ministrations. The shame was gone, all you wanted was for him to feel you up. 

You placed both hands behind his neck, caressing his skin and hair, rolling your hips against his even harder when the bass drops. “Ahhh,” Jungkook hissed into your neck before biting it, making you sight in response to the tightening of his grip. You could have remained pressed against him letting the heat of his chest radiate into you all day, all night frankly, but you wanted more. 

Reluctantly prying yourself off his hands you turned around to face him. His gaze was hooded, lips were parted, hair disheveled from your hands, chest oscillating faster than before and you thought you detected the smallest flush on his cheeks despite the darkness of the room. 

You pulled him back closer. He was really close now. Hard chest grazing hard nipples, anxious hands positioning themselves on his biceps as he rested his hands on your hips. You were really about to do it. Your hands travelled upwards to lock behind his head as he hunched down, hair falling in front of his eyes and his hands brought your chest closer. The way he tightened his hold around your torso, fingertips grazing your sides softly had you smiling into the kiss. 

It all felt too good, and if you hadn’t been sure before, you were then 100 percent convinced you’re not going to get over Jungkook’s lips anytime soon. That one night would definitely not be enough. You were so fucked!

Jungkook was hungry for more contact, hands travelling south to get a generous feel of your ass, he broke the kiss cutting off your soft moans to look into your eyes, a smirk on his lips, “Baby got back.” He slapped your right cheek, and you shrieked only to sink back into moaning as he rubbed the sting away. 

Before he gave it another try you pulled his head down, opening up your mouth to let him explore another part of you. The strong alcohol mix blended between your tongues, as your hands pulled the back of his t-shirt to somehow get him closer. Jungkook chuckled into your kiss and all you did was mumble a disfigured “What?!” 

“Nothing,” he whispered as he lifted you up and away from the dance floor. “I just think–” peck, “it’s time we find–” peck, “another place to continue this–” peck. The domesticity of it all, despite the environment, left you stunned, cheeks warming up considerably and all you could do was hide your face in the crook of his neck. You liked it, in fact you liked it a little bit too much. 

Jungkook might have wanted to give you the lovey-dovey scenario but the truth was you were at a college party, bumping with sweaty bodies on the way to find some privacy, half drunkenly tripping over littered staircases was what you needed to get through. Which you did with the help of a strong hand grabbing onto the hem of his t-shirt as you attempted to navigate the dimly lit apartment. 

“Hey, hey, slow down there,” Jungkook sounded behind you as he pointed to a room that just then became vacant when two ruffled figures pursued a silent retreat from it. Though the last thing you wanted to do was slow down. You shuffled back and into the space. 

The room was hot, smelled of sex and alcohol and the bed sheets were a mess. Jungkook threw a calculating eye towards the bed.

“Under the sheets?”

“Under the sheets,” you answered as you helped him discard the duvet. 

“You really want to take the risk?” He asked, pointing back at the door as he walked to your side of the bed. The right side.

You thought it through in your head. The worst thing that could happen was someone walking in while Jungkook’s is balls deep in you. The best thing that could happen was Jungkook being balls deep in you. Also maybe the worst thing wasn’t t that bad after all, you thought as the thought of someone seeing Jungkook fuck you shoot a shiver up your legs and into your pussy. 

“Uh huh,” you answered, breathless and squirming when his hands dove into the back of your crop top and his teeth nibbled at the exposed skin of your cleavage. “God..hmm, fuck,” he moaned into your skin making it even hotter as you ground your dripping center against his groin and your hands pulled his slick and soft hair to keep yourself from melting into a puddle.

“Please touch me.” 

Your voice was barely audible in between your whimpers. Jungkook’s hands slid down your back to sprawl his big palms on your ass as he controlled your grinding, looking into your eyes. You couldn’t keep them open, not that you needed them to decipher his eagerness. If the soft moans, the big hands and the biting weren’t enough to let you know exactly how he was feeling, his dick was more than glad to help as it grew stiffer by the minute, grazing harder and harder against your drenching heat. 

Did you love the way his hands glided over your heated skin, seemingly setting it on fire as he kneaded it every chance he got? Yes! But you wanted him to touch you elsewhere.

“Plea—ah, touch m—oh.”

Jungkook kept showing you that there were more ways to use his mouth. He had kissed and bit you but nothing could have prepared you for his sucking. Somehow while you were busy craving for his touch, he had undone your bra and discarded it somewhere and now he had his warm and wet mouth around your sensitive mound as his hand massaged the other. His hot tongue swept over the thin fabric covering your nipple, biting the erect tip only for you to whine and squirm at the loss of contact with his cock. 

He took his time, enough for sweat beads to form along your hairline. You whined, pushing yourself against any surface of him within your reach. You could have been vocal about wanting to feel him on you, skin burning against yours, to feel him in you, his strong appendage exploring your heat. Yet you kept your mouth shut for fear of the sound that might leave you

Jungkook gave your breast a particularly hard bite before your hand slid from your hair past your slippery chest to hold onto his slick locks. Your uncontrolled, whiny moans didn’t seem to do much to change Jungkook’s speed. Somehow, his exploration of your breasts became even more languid, lending enough time for your breaths to become synchronized. 

His tongue trailed its way back up to graze your slack jaw as your eager hands latched on the thin fabric of his t-shirt to push him down onto the bed. That seemed to bring him back to reality, glazed eyes staring right at you. Jungkook thought that you wanted it to be a two-way street, not just him pleasuring you but you him. However his jittery leg couldn't’’t help but show his eagerness to try out whatever it is that he had in mind.

“So….” He exhaled, breathing slowly going back to normal.

You started a bit longer at him, after all, this wasn’t about Jungkook getting his fill, it was about you getting yours. You were the one who had been fantasizing about this for an unhealthy amount of time. So truthfully, you weren’t looking for a two-way street. You wanted something else. “I want to use you.” At that his leg stopped bouncing. 

Maybe you knew a lot less about Jungkook that you thought. At the sight of his rippling muscles removing his t-shirt the “keep your mouth closed” rule you had imposed on yourself flew out of the window. Your shining eyes gained a chuckle. “You look like a kid in a candy story,” he said while he crossed his arms hoping his bulging biceps would divert your attention from another straining part of him. Jungkook deducted that you liked to watch as your teeth abused your lips, to let your eyes run past his tooth-rothening sweet expression to his broad shoulders that were slightly red from your previous eagerness, down his chest to his happy trail and equality happy dick. 

He was right, you liked watching, but not just watching anyone, watching him. You were finally getting front row, uncensored material to fill all the previous fantasies you had had of him at night, in the morning, in class, at the rink, anywhere really. 

You dropped to your knees, ass on your feet, as your hands ran down his thighs to feel them clench under your touch, “Don’t worry I’m not too much of a kid, I won’t take too much and leave you dry,” you said, floundering hands reaching for his zipper. Jungkook made it easier for you, spreading his legs to let you closer into his space. 

You couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in front of you only to shy away and stare at the floor, You took an apprehensive look at Jungkook whose lips were slightly parted, eyes soft, waiting for you. For someone who was just having a quick fling he was weirdly patient and understanding. “Sorry for staring,” you whispered, undoing the zipper and reaching behind as he lifted his hips from the bed for you to pull his pants and underwear down his ass. A soft grunt escaped his lips as your finger grazed the flesh of his toned ass.“As long as you’re not disgusted. If anything I’m flattered.” He smiled down at you.  

He spread his thighs wider, allowing you a full view of his veiny up-curved cock, rushing blood tainting the tip an angry red. Now he was showing off, to which you threw him a sly smile which he returned with a wink as you shook your head, hand reaching for the alluring throbbing length. At your touch you heard a sharp intake of air above you, you gave a tentative lick to his tip receiving a slight jolt. 

You had gotten so far, yet the prospect of having Jungkook staring at you as you blew him off had you shy. With a gentle hand to his hard chest you prompted him to lay down on the bed. “Stay down,” you breathed against his dick. “Unfai–ahhh” he didn’t get to finish his protest as you enveloped your warm mouth around his thick tip, swirling it around as the salty taste of precum coated your tongue and an involuntary hum of approval reverberated in your chest. Yeah this was worth it, you thought as you plunged more of him into your mouth to his approving groans. “Fuck, oh, you feel so good.” You didn’t think of yourself as having much of a praising kink, but the praise coming from him with a throaty voice in between his gasps, had your pride swelling along with his cock. 

Your head bobbed up and down his hard shaft, saliva coating the surface generously as your hand twists around his length. A particularly good suck of your mouth on his cock had Jungkook’s thighs clenching around your frame, a hand rooting itself on your hair. “Yeah, right there. Fuck.” You repeated the same movement whining at his tightening grip.”Sh–agh I’m gonna cum soon if yo– oh fuck you’re too go–” Your thighs were clenched tightly around your heated core, your other hand gripping onto one of Jungkook’s shivering thighs. You were really doing it. Feeling the weight of him on your tongue, pushing back and sucking him further down your throat. The rush of glee in your body was unavoidable.

You pulled through, opening your aching jaw further as you pumped more of him into your mouth, tongue fully stretched letting his mouth watering cock be embraced by the constricted walls of your throat. The instance he felt the effect of the depth of your throat, your nails plunging into the skin of his thighs for added intensity, Jungkook couldn’t keep himself down anymore. He heaved his clenching torso back up to a seated position at the sound of your gags. They resounded loud enough to drown his discombobulated mix of heavy sighs and groans, yet he wished he could swap the backdrop electronic music for the slippery and choked out sounds being emitted from your warm throat. 

“Hey hey hey, slow down or I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he said in a rushed voice as you relentlessly continued your attack on him, keeping your promise of using him. 

When words didn’t seem to be getting to you, he attempted to yank your head back a bit but you stayed rooted, throat somehow engulfing him deeper as the strong command of his arm flattered against your ministrations and had him bucking his hips upwards. You choked on his length, landing a warning slap to his thigh which didn't seem to help other than encourage Jungkook’s inevitable descent into a whining mess. “Oh-h sh-it, fuck me.” His stuttering breaths along with the scent of him as your nose touched the base of his cock had you dizzy and dripping wet, nails scratching his skin meanwhile tears coated your hot cheeks. When you were done with him you were sure he would file an animal complaint report. You weren’t exactly trying very hard not to mark him.

Despite your aching throat and jaw, you resolved to take him deep one last time. But that seemed to be one last time too many as the hot exhale of Jungkook’s breaths further warmed your forehead and he buckled forward from the pleasure. His O-shaped mouth connected with the top of your head whilst he defiled your throat and mumbled curses through gritted teeth. 

Your worn out mouth retracted to give place for your arms to do the finishing work. Before you could pick up the speed, Jungkook’s mouth found your abused lips, tongue probing your entrance to lap up at the excess saliva, sighing softly into the kiss. The hand in your hair kept you rooted in the racking of his teeth against your lips and for a second you thought of letting him use you too. That was until you gave him a small bite of your own and felt him twitch in your hand. Your other hand wrapped around his wrist to remove his hold on you as you tore your lips off of his just to stare at his hooded eyes. 

“I’m supposed to be using you Jeon.” Your hands resumed their work on his cock, welcoming back the straining breaths of the godly man seated in front of you. He was leaning back on his arm as his other hand latched onto his sweaty hair, trying to anchor the sanity that threatened to leave him at the sight of you working on him so diligently. A sight that would remain ingrained in his mind for a very long time. You made sure of it. “Oh, I’m close,” he slurred.

You stuck your tongue out, “Woah really, you’re sure about it?” He might have sounded concerned but you could still manage to see the glint in his sweaty expression. He wanted it. So you played along, “Jungkook pleaseeee,” you whined head moving closer to his flushed cock. You left the rest to him, watching as his fingers fluttered around his length to form a strong hold as he pumped himself with your saliva past his edge. “A–A– Ahhh hmmm, oh fuck.” White warm stripes of salty cum landed on your tongue at the same time that you watched the satisfying decoration of tightly knitted brows, eyes shut tight and bottom lip caught between his teeth on his face following his hurried release. 

You pushed your ass off your feet to stand back up and Jungkook met you, standing tall, hands as eager as ever as they wrapped around your form. You shivered at the graze of your nipples against his taut chest. Jungkook went on to leave even more marks on your skin, teeth grazing and nipping your flesh between the wet trail of soft kisses he made sure to leave before his mouth reached the sensitive shell of your ear. “Thank you,”he whispered and you almost laughed out loud but managed to keep under control. “I wasn’t doing you a favour, Jeon. I’ve wanted to suck your dick for a while now. So really, I should be the one saying thank you.” 

Your hands traveled down his back as you placed your head in the crook of his neck to give him some of your own marks, except a lot less delicate which you could tell by the way he squeezed you tighter. 

You let your arm travel in between your bodies to wrap around his neck as your other arm took it upon itself to get him ready for another round. The most important one. Your fingers played with the strong raven strands on his head earning approving hums from his broad chest. With calm strokes to his member you felt him hardening. But Jungkook also wanted his fun so with two hands of his own he undid the measly buttons of your pants. It was either he was somehow good at undoing buttons while pressed against someone or he just had a lot of experience, but Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from yours. You stroked him harder, pulling soft, strained yet compelling reactions from him, his hot breath fanning your face in the time that you felt the weight of his forehead against yours. 

Addicted to the feeling of your hands on him, he let you fondle with him a bit longer instead choosing to play with the softness of your ass. His hands familiarised themselves with the strong curve of your cheeks and their strong jiggle potential when he grabbed a handful of your butt to pull you closer so he could grind on you. “Ohhh,” you sighed into yet another bite of his shoulder. 

Jungkook kept grinding and you kept whining and sighing. By then you were sure you had soaked through your panties and down your thighs, something he wished to witness as his fingers hooked around your pants and pulled them all the way down. You were raring to keep stroking him. Honestly, you could have held his dick forever if asked to. It was heavy and hot against your palm, velvety skin dragging up and down with each movement of your hand. And with every particularly good stroke on your end it would give you a little reward twitch.

But Jungkook had other plans. He stood back up, hands sliding behind your thighs to heave you up, legs around his waist as he climbed onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress with your form still clinging to him and arranged the few pillows to his satisfaction. He tapped your thigh for you to let go and lay splattered on the bed, wet and needy pussy on display for him. You still had on your flimsy crop top, which he all but ripped off you. 

“Hey!” You went in for a hit on his chest, which he blocked. “Not cool, this isn’t some sort of movie you know,” you pouted angrily at him to which he smiled back.  He wondered how he didn’t not notice you at the rink before? 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He made small talk as he spread you further to stare at your dripping centre. “Who says we’re gonna meet again after this?”

Jungkook ran his fingers past your wet folds, coating himself in your want as he turned his eyes back at you to be met with the sight of your cheek. “All this juice says.” You heard a loud pop and tried to shield yourself but his thighs were in the way. “Oh, now you’re shy,” he huffed lightly as he held onto your ankles to push himself back enough to be at eye-level with the result of his alluring nature. 

“Is it okay if I eat you out?” you didn’t know if he had intended his question to come out as soft as it did, like he really believed that you didn’t want his face between your thighs. “Jeon just get to it.”you acted detached. He shook his head at your feigned annoyance and grabbed a handful of your thighs, rooting himself close enough to your gaping hole that your folds tickled from his shallow breaths. 

He bit his way past your clenched thigh and gave you one last squeeze, “What a pretty cunt.” One he dived right into, tongue lapping at the excess wetness with an excruciatingly slow lick . “Ahh, fuck.” You did your best to take a deep breath, one supposed to calm your jitters down but Jungkook wasn’t looking to give you mellow head. Harshly kneading the skin of your thighs, he buried his face deeper into your pussy, pointed tongue travelling past pooling juices to probe your entrance hard enough for your hands to bunch into fists hard that would leave crescent moons on your palms. 

“Oh–My–God.” You moaned between rhythmless breaths. You squeezed your eyes, back arching off the bed when he licked you in a particularly hungry away only to graze his teeth lightly against your sensitive flesh. “You good up there?” You could feel his smile against your inner thighs. You shoved your heel into his side in retaliation. “Oh, aggressive in bed? Sexy” You propped yourself up on your elbows to give him a dumbfounded look as you motioned to him to keep it going. “Awww, you’re so mean to me darling.” His shiny lips formed a pout and you did your best not to react to what he had just called you. “Please,” you muttered for good measure. But Jungkook seemed like an easy person to please and an even bigger people pleaser so he got back to the task at hand.

While he had kept quiet for most of the time he was devouring your pussy, now with some kind of newfound confidence he hummed soft words of praise at every little twitch of your legs and buck of your hips and every soft gasp that left your lips. His eagerness fed off of your whining and tossing and he grew harder for every squeeze of your thighs he felt against his broad frame. 

While Jungkook was satisfied with having you laid out for him, oozing your desires into his tongues for him to taste and praise, he wanted to see how far he could take you. Maybe it was just him and his competitive spirit or maybe it was his need to explore more of you, to add one more thing on his list of “who Y/N is” before you parted ways. Whatever it may have been, it made him bring his hand down to plunge a strong finger past your folds and into your welcoming heat. You yelped at the sensation, hands finally settling on Jungkook’s hair only for your hold to strengthen as he slipped the finger in and out. 

“You like that darling?” You chose not to answer, you didn’t want to inflate his ego anymore as if he wasn’t able to make out the answer for himself, which he did when a second finger made an entrance and you whined at the delicious feeling of the slight stretch. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You flapped your foot against the mattress when he went back to attacking your centre with his tongue, flicking at your clit, landing fluttering kisses that have the knot in your stomach tighten further while his scissored you into a whining mess.

“I didn’t know I was about to fuck a fish.” He laughed as you felt the swipe of his tongue when he retracted from his kisses which set off the aim of your kick against his side. “Next time remind me to bring a tie or a few of them. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the reaction but I don’t like to be disturbed while I am ravaging such a delightful pussy.” You wanted to abandon the daze Jungkook had induced within you, just for a second, enough to refute his idea of a second time, but the rushed addition of a third finger inside your wet walls shut you up. Jungkook pressed his digits with determination, alternating speeds to make a mockery out of your need for oxygen. 

Things seemed to come in a duality for him. While he wished nothing more than to make a mess of you, and revel in the mix of gushing sounds from your cunt and pitched curses blessing his ears, he equally wanted to slide the softness of his cheeks against your thighs only to turn his head to cover you in ghostly kisses. He wanted you to feel everything, his fingers turning you into putty, his breaths fanning turning you even hotter, the dip of his other hand beyond your clenched stomach and past the valley of your chest as you held your breath long enough to exhale into the commanding squeeze of his tattooed fingers around your breast.

He went on, you screamed on. He fed himself off your cries and scratches on his scalp, slurping on the endless gush resulting from months’ worth of pent up horniness of your part. 

You slapped Jungkook’s shoulder, hoping to bring him out of this endless exploration with his tongue. You were close. “Jungkook~,” you whined, head tossing side to side. He hummed against you, grabbing a fistful of your ass, somehow bringing you closer than you already felt. You were beyond controlling yourself, legs trembling at the combined attack of his nose against your clit, tongue curving as he soaked you up. ”There you go, come for me darling.” 

He engulfed your bud around his lips and your hands retracted for your breasts, any semblance of normality and balance slipping from your fingers into Jungkook’s hair. “Jeo— oh god, fuc—yeah right...” You trailed off, words getting caught in your throat, back arching your feverish chest against the stale air of the room, hands clenching around his locks at the moment the compiled knot of your arousal snapped under Jungkook’s attentive care. 

You tried to control your quivering legs and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s slow and steady ascent from the place between your legs to your lips, you might have shrieked at an alarming volume. You still shrieked but the same coated lips that brought about your orgasm, were placed on yours to bring you back down to your usual composure. You tasted yourself on his tongue. And you couldn’t control the twitch of your torso when his hand went to caress your back, pulling scorching skin against each other. 

The light and docile dance of Jungkook’s fingers brought about a different demeanour in you. At least that was what you let yourself believe. You exhaled an amused deep breath in the crook of his neck as your high came to an end, “Fuck, you’re good at this.” 

“Again, thank you,” he said calmly, yet you felt the slight thumping of his heart against your breast. It must be from vigorous exercise. 

The both of you lay next to each other on your side for a moment, Jungkook’s arm draped over the dip of waist. 

“Honestly, we could end here and I would be happy,” you said closing your eyes, letting your neck rest as your head slumped against his chest. A small laugh erupted from him.

“It’s you saying shit like that, that will make sure we don’t end here, at least not if I can do something about it.” He ran his hand along his neck and you truly believed in your soul to be staring at a Michelangelo painting. You ogled the way his arm stretched sideways to reveal the small bed of air in his armpit as his biceps bulged (whether he’s showing off or that was just your perception didn’t matter and you frankly didn't care). 

His hairstyle was no longer present, hair completely out of his face and you imagined this was what he must look like when he wakes up, albeit less sweaty and red from all the scratches and marking. His face looked a lot softer, the fat on his cheek more prominent and the largeness of his eye more notable.

Maybe that was a bit harsh, but you would rather not have him text you during this specific weekend. You didn’t know what kind of texter he was, but if you based it off your only interaction, he seemed rather talkative.You just needed some time to let what just had happened and what would continue to happen sink in.

“Stop staring at me. It’s not helping your case for stopping here,” he said, blinking a couple of times to look past you. This Jungkook, who was in fact like all the versions of Jungkook you had seen during your pining months, had you feeling less intimidated enough for you to smile at his remark. The first proper smile he got to see. He wanted to comment on it but you spoke before.

“You wear glasses?” 

“How do you know?” He asked back.

“I didn’t. I just noticed you blinking a lot so I guessed.”

“I wear lenses for the most part, but my eyes are quite dry. It’s usually not a problem. But I wasn’t trying to miss any of your reactions,” he winked

You huffed giving him an incredulous look. You wondered what he looks like with glasses on? Does he look hotter or cuter? You were  about to continue building on your imagination when he decided that break time was over by pulling on your arm to have you laying on top of him where you could now feel his reenergized cock. You threw yet another look his way as if you weren’t mentally drooling at the thought of seeing him with glasses.

“I told you to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about me. Thinking about me outside of this context.” 

You were too childish to admit, so you did the first thing that comes to mind at the sight of his chest. You bit it.

“Ouch! You really want me to make you cry again huh?”

Deeming him distracted enough from the previous path your conversation was taking. You stretched your neck to his pierced ear. “I want you to fuck me now, Jeon.” If the shift of his gaze wasn’t proof enough of the sudden change in atmosphere. Then the contraction of his hands against your frame, as your heart triumphed at the feel of his cock hardening further against the edge of your thigh, made it clear.

“Hmm such a potty mouth,” he gave you a serene kiss, hands travelling deeper into the valley of your back. “Not even a small please.” He got a very deliberate feel of your ass while nipping at your collarbone. 

Using both hands placed at the top of his V cut, you pushed yourself to a seated position on top of his hard dick, pulling an agitated groan from Jungkook’s lips. You ground your hips on top of him, wet pussy lips providing copious lubrication, “Please~," you moan, head hanging low. He bit his lip, hand colliding with your ass, “That’s more like it.”

The feel of him was more overwhelming than you had imagined and when Jungkook rooted his hands on your hips to guide you into a slower grind, your legs squeezed against him at the feel of his tip grazing your entrance. You threw him a side eye, fully aware of his teasing. But you didn’t mind it all too much, especially not when it felt so good. The kind of good that made you close eyes and munch on your bottom lip for fear of uttering something utterly stupid but very true like, “God, I could fuck you forever.” 

“Huh, whatcha say?” Your eyes shot open to look at Jungkook’s distorted eyebrows above the eyes that were staring at the conjunction between your groins, lip still caught in his teeth. “Nothing,” you dismissed your unintended statement easily, diverting his attention to the current moment.

The hand that was splattered against his sweaty chest traveled to wrap around his fully erect penis as Jungkook hissed at your touch. “Oh fuck, you’re really gonna ride me?” You couldn’t help the prideful swell of your chest at his enthusiasm. Jungkook might have seemed intimidating but he definitely knew how to praise. At the rate he was going, you were one hundred percent sure you would be boasting about fucking him for the rest of the academic year. 

You pushed against your knees, body relaxing thanks to the soft caresses Jungkook left on the sides of your thighs. Okay, you were really going to do it? Your heartbeat had skyrocketed, eight months of pining and imagining finally coming to an end. You were ready to sink onto his length.

“Wait! Condom.” He said pointing to the side of the bed where his discarded leather pants should be somewhere. 

“Right,” you shook your head, coming back to your senses as you shuffled quickly off him and the bed to grab his pants.

“Nice ass,” he emitted a subtle sound of approval making you roll your eyes as you bent back up, pants in your hand. “Back pocket,” he instructed. You found exactly one condom. “I see you didn’t have too many plans of your own for tonight,” you said in what was supposed to be a light tone, but it came off far more judgemental. You managed a smile for good measure, climbing back up on top of him.

You teared off the packaging, unrolling the condom onto his cock which was wet with your want. A soft “oh” came from underneath you when you reached the base of his dick. Jungkook’s look had somehow become even more intense, he stared as your fingers traveled to hold his shaft, positioning yourself above it. While you tried to make it subtle, he noticed the small breaths you took apprehensively before sinking his member into your wet warmth. 

You both sighed, you delighted by the thought-erasing stretch of Jungkook’s throbbing length as he ended up fully sheathed in you, and him simultaneously entranced by the tightness of your walls and the sight of you on top of him. Jungkook might not have known you before now, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever forget you. In fact, he doesn’t.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love a good cockwarming but it would be a waste if I com—,” you shifted your hips a bit “before I got a good dicking in.” 

“Jeon, shut up. I need to adjust okay.” 

Jungkook was about to open his mouth to boast, you were sure of it so you slapped your palm down on his mouth. You thought you heard him mumble something along the lines of “kinky” as crinkles showed up besides his eyes.

You took yet another deep breath, moaning at the slow drag of his veiny cock against your pussy as you slid up, tip almost leaving your core only to slide back down, a small shriek emitting from your throat on the fast descent. Jungkook’s hands left your sides to remove your hands from his chest so he could lift his torso to a seated position. You gave him a quizzical look. “I just want to be able to kiss you,” he pushed the two of you closer to the headboard, back leaning lazily against the surface, “if I want to, which I will,” he felt the need to add.

So you plunged forward, smashing your lips against his, his head almost hitting the headboard. Arms coming around to rest behind his neck, you picked up the speed as the slapping sounds of your ass against his thighs filled your space. “Ohhhh god,” you sighed against his shoulder. The room was brimming with gushing sounds, Jungkook’s cock ramming into yours between never-ending gasps and groans, and ongoing praise from Jungkook’s end telling you how good your pussy felt, how good you were to him. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you’re for me?”

You stuttered, hands slipping against the headboard when his hips thrusted to meet yours, “Fu-ff-fuck.” You were unsure if you were gonna be able to formulate any coherent words until you came. Ever the ass man Jungkook’s hands spread over your rear flesh guiding you up and down his rigid shaft as he pleased, tethering on the edge between teasing and pleasuring you, further torturing you and himself. 

But he couldn’t  help it, not when you were whispering sweet nothings into his ears, biting his shoulders, scratching his back, mewling and squealing at the feel of him hitting your deepest spot. So Jungkook repeated it as many times as he saw fit, pulling himself out only to slam back into you, feeling your stature tense around his strong arms as you teeth latched on to the skin of his collarbone.

Jungkook kept bouncing you on his cock, mouth extending towards your neglecting mounds, as he placed his hot mouth against it, sending tingles down your spine which made you grind against him. He lapped at the skin, tongue toying with your nipples, further guiding you up and down his dick with his strong hands. You held onto his forearm for balance, crying out into the air. “Ahhh fuck, please Jeon, fuck me more.” 

You were actually not making sense. How exactly was he supposed to fuck you more? You didn’t know but Jungkook made it known that he was the man. He held you still and steady above him and began his assault on your sensitive cunt. He bucked into your hips with a relentless speed that had your breast bouncing in his face, to his delight. Your thighs were burning, knees ready to give up as you screamed shamelessly. 

Jungkook hissed as he felt your pussy tighten around him, milking the come out of him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. You sighed deeper into his thrusts when he spanked your ass shooting pleasure straight to your tightening core as you did your best to restrain your oncoming orgasm. You wanted it to last forever. 

You decided to start moving again, meeting his thrusts halfway, intensifying the effect as Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, a hand anchoring itself at the back of your neck as he stared into your fucked out expression. You were sweaty, eyelids down but squeezed, mouth open, jaw slack and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. He pulled you down by your neck, lips rubbing against each other. You managed to kiss for short bursts of time frequently separating, mouths agape to gasp and moan at the feeling of each other, feeling yourselves close to coming. 

Your hand moved to cup Jungkook’s cheek before you tilted his head back with a gentle hair grab, “Jungkook, make me come,” you said before kissing up his jaw. The fact that you had called him by his first name for the first time was not lost on him and he couldn't control the wide smile that spread on his lips. “Anything for you darling,” he kissed into your neck.

Suddenly, reenergized Jungkook jolted his hips forward, stronger than before, digging deep into your soaked core as he marked your shoulder. His thighs pushed against your own, spreading you wider, no barrier in sight as his hand found your clit, which he rubbed in quick circles as he continued to roll his hips into yours, dick straining against the increased tightness. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 

It was when Jungkook started to piston into you that you felt your body slowly lose itself. The knot in your stomach coiling, ready to snap, thighs trembling from being held in place. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered. 

He didn't think he would ever get tired of you calling his name. “Come for me darling. Cream on my cock,” he demanded, hand digging into your ass as he continued rubbing your clit. A few more thrusts came along before you choked, body rigid as the coil in you snapped, and you gushed on Jungkook’s dick to his big pleasure. Your entire body quivering under his soothing caresses. You stayed in place, moaning when Jungkook swiped his hand past your pussy lips so he could have a taste. He hummed, fingers in his mouth, “You’re delicious darling.” You smiled too tired to give him any ounce of attitude. 

But you were not done yet, so you pulled through letting your raw cunt sink back down on Jungkook’s cock. You started moving to his enjoyment. You were sensitive so you went slow, but that didn't seem to have any less of an effect on Jungkook who huffed in between breaths, trying to enjoy as much of you before he came. You leaned into him, lips biting and licking his earlobe, “Can you come for me baby?” 

Were you playing dirty? Yes. But honestly you didn't know how much longer Jungkook could hold and you were sensitive, so you played on his apparent weakness, he liked to please and you liked to be pleased. On top of that his pulsating dick made it known that he liked the term of endearment. “Ohh god, please call me baby again,” he grunted.

“Will you come then?”

“Fuck yeah.”

With a couple more strokes in the bag, a tensed Jungkook under you, you raked your fingernails down his back, kissing up his shoulder to the junction between his shoulder and neck where you placed a light bite before licking your way up to his ear. “Baby,” you kissed the contour of his ear, “Jungkook, come in me baby,” you mewled, dropping down onto his shaft.

You gasped at the strong grasp Jungkook had on your hips as he grunted, hips stuttering into you. His hot breath heated your chest while his strong arms abused your skin and he kept mumbling curses under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. “Oh shit, ugh, fuck ahhh,  you’re….” He trailed off, speech rolling into sighs as he ran a hand down his face.

“I am ?,” you inquired.

“The best I’ve ever had,” he said hugging you. He wanted to say something else, but he doubted either of you were ready to deal with what it could possibly entail.

You got off of his lap to lay on the bed, exhausted but fully satisfied. After all, the eight month long pining was worth it.. You couldn’t wait to scream to Kyra about this. You could genuinely go the remaining of the year being celibate, that’s how satiated you felt.

Jungkook poked your side, bringing you back from your thoughts, “About that offer, I am up for it if you are,” he probed in a weary tone.

“What offer?”

“I mean I didn’t hear you too clearly, but I’m pretty sure you said something about being able to fuck me forever.”

You stayed silent. After all you didn’t know what kind of offer that involves sex he was making. The committed or uncommitted kind?

“I just thought, ya know,  we’re pretty compatible so we could scratch each other’s back once in a while.”

“Are you talking about being friends with benefits?”

“Yeah! That.” He turned to his side to gauge your reaction, “ Only if you want of course! Otherwise forget I asked.” 

You thought back to what Kyra said. There’s more to the male species than Jeon Jungkook. But honestly after the fuck you had just had, you were quite content with deluding yourself for a couple of months, or however long the arrangement could last.

You satt up on the edge of the bed, “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.” 

“Oh! Okay, uhm cool then,” he said, sounding both surprised and enthusiastic.

You were dirty but you still put your clothes back on, stealing Jungkook’s t-shirt. “I’m taking this cause you tore my top off.” It was too big for you, but it smelled nice, like him. Maybe it could cover up the sex stench you had on.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not .” He scratched the back of his head. You flip him off which made him chuckle.

You were fully clothed, shoes on, ready to exit the room. Jungkook was sporting his outfit too without the t-shirt and he totally resembled an exotic male dancer. You tore your eyes off his body before you started thinking things, turning around and reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hmm.”

“Your phone number?”

“Monday at Ms Diane’s after your shift,” you blurted out before leaving the room in a rush.

You kept your promise and stopped by at Diane’s Rink for a quick greeting and a recital of your phone number. You wanted to stay longer, and had you asked Jungkook if it was okay with him, he would have rolled past and around you with an affirming smirk. 

After that you turned your text notifications back on. What followed was three days of losing your composure at the slight sound of a bling coming from your phone. Maybe you had overestimated Jungkook’s forwardness. It wasn’t until you bumped into him and his friend at the university’s lunch space a couple of days later that you got to see him again. The two of you were in different departments so you rarely had class in the same buildings. 

You ate in silence, eyes focused on the word dense pages of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road”, so much the words jumbled together and you slammed the book shut, sighing into yet another bite of your bland chicken sandwich. You snuck another look at his table and he looked fine. You hadn’t expected him to look any different really but you thought maybe he had noticed you too. Sure you looked a lot less eye-catching than what you did at the party but one would be able to recognise someone they fucked not so long ago. Worse of it all, he had asked you and you were the one losing your mind over it. 

Appetite gone, you picked up your belongings and your small pile of trash, throwing the waste in the bin not far from his table. You had chosen to act on the hurt and growing anger inside of you, pulling out your phone to text him a petty, “Nice to see you too asshole 🖕”. 

You hadn’t even cared that you were blowing your cover, revealing that you were in fact already in possession of his number, further adding to your desperation. You stood back for a few moments but out of sight just to see his reaction. Jungkook had retrieved his phone from his pocket, taking a quick look at his screen before hastily lifting his head to look at the table where you had been sitting. So he saw…. 

You could have left unnoticed but you were already on your dramatic streak so you chose to storm out of the hall, passing by his apprehensive eyes. If only you had turned around just for a split second, enough to decipher the pleased expression on his face, you would have in fact known that Jungkook was quite happy to know that wanted it just as much as him. He considered that a needed affirmation for him to move forward, speeding past the green light.

It wasn’t long Jungkook grabbed hold of you after your “Literary and Cultural Theory” class.

“Hey! Slow down, I’m about to drop my books,” you had alarmed him shuffling hastily behind his combat boots and he couldn’t have shown you that he gave any less of a shit when he instead quickened his stride. 

It wasn’t long before you were dragged into the cramped confinement of his car. Books, bags and clothes in the front seats while an eager Jungkook and a confused you took refuge in the back seat. You shivered against the cool fabric of the seat as Jungkook’s chest warmed you up from above as he huffed and puffed beside your ear for every pointed thrust he landed deep within your gushing core. You had tried and failed at keeping your voice down. You stared out of the window attempting to calm your breathing by synchronising it with the lazy fall of browned tree leafs. 

You had accomplished a couple of firsts in that moment, First time having car sex (which wasn’t as hot as you thought it would be but Jungkook made up for it), and dabbling in slight exhibitionism behind Jungkook’s tinted back seat windows (which surprisingly left you more horny than expected). 

“Ready to get started with this darling?” He asked, sweating skin leaving yours as his softening cock left your entrance earning a gasp from your side of the car.

“A head’s up would have been nice.” Your hand searched the front seat for your panties.

“But isn’t that the fun part?” He snapped his condom shut. “Plus it’s not like I, or even you can control when you feel like doing it.”

You were ready to refute his reasoning but he made a point and you held your tongue. 

“Fine, but don’t abuse your fuck n’ go rights or I’ll get stingy. I don’t have your stamina Jeon.” You tore your head to the side after putting on your t-shirt to look at him, eyes demanding him to say he’ll behave.

“Okay, okay, sure I’ll try.”

That was the first big lie he had told you.

Since then, the thrill that came with getting regular dick in unexpected places never ceased and as you’re now watching Jungkook tear the rink apart with his calculated moves and pristine performance on shiny black roller skates, you know exactly how you would like your next appointment to be. 

Despite having been fuck buddies for over three months, the prospect of Jungkook roleplaying in his work uniform never had been a reality. You think it’s about time you change that. 

The air in the rink is fiery in spite of the cool winter air outside, people cram together at the edge of the rink to watch the contestants. After an unexpected turn of events, the annual “Disco Craze” roller skating contest had been short of one judge. Miss Diane hurried to find a replacement in the crowd. Of course you had jumped at the opportunity, after all you had arrived too late to the rink to get a good spot to watch the competition. Maybe it was your enthusiasm or your familiar face but to your delight you got picked.

This year’s contestants are far better than last year and both as a judge and a friend you’re fearing for Jungkook’s current winning streak. However, that’s a fear he doesn’t seem to share. Not with the way he glides smoothly to the beat of “I Don't Feel Like Dancin'” by Scissor Sisters. He soaks in the cheering crowd, spot rexing with a goofy smile on your face. 

This is probably the first time you really get to see Jungkook roller skate, you knew he was good, everyone had told you, just not that he was this good. 

His happiness while he scissors across the rink is contagious. He mouths the lyrics towards the crowd and unlike the song title, you see the soft sway of bodies moving to the beat. You’re left smiling before you know it, foot tapping along. He does a quick jump into a spin, before he speeds towards the judge’s table only to stop abruptly as he body rolls backwards. You shake your head, feeling more aware of the tactics Jungkook must have employed throughout the years to win. His number is over before you know it. 

There are a total of eleven contestants. But from what you’ve seen it’s between Jungkook and a girl who performed a great number to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”. During the intermission to allow the public to cast their vote, you shuffle away to buy some kit kats at the little snack shop beside the handoff counter for the roller skates. 

You finish one pack and buy a second which Jungkook snatches from your hands when he joins you. 

“Thank you,” he sticks out his tongue at you before ripping the red packaging and biting into your kit kat. 

“You’re gonna pay for that,” you sneer.

“Oooo I’m so scared.” He laughs a bit too loud, giving you a full view of his kit kat filled mouth. Sometimes you really want to hit him upside the head. “Sooo, what did you think?”

“About what?”

“My skating, duh! I’m pretty good, right?” He lifts an eyebrow cocking his head as he goes in for another aggressive bite of your kit kat.

“Meh, it was okay,” you say, walking away from the shop counter to sit by one of the benches near the rink. 

“Okay!?”

“Yeah, just okay Jeon, The girl, uhm, what’s her number?” You know her number. “You know, the one with the yellow skates, she could totally beat you.”

You’re partially trying to mess with him but you’re also being honest. Her performance really was that good. “Pfft, whatever. I know I have loyal fans.” He sits down besides you and leans against the wall. “Sure, you do,” you mumble.

With one bar of the kit kat left, he extends the package to you and says, “As long as you don’t vote for her I’ll forgive your hurtful words.”

You take it, because it’s a kit kat, you would never say no. “Bribing judges Jeon, huh? What other tricks apart from this and those body rolls do you have up your sleeve?” You munch on the bar.

“Tricks that will make you cry if you don’t vote for me darling,” he says loud enough for only you to hear. He brings his hand onto your thigh, running upwards close enough to where he could cup your cunt with his big palm making your breath hitch, but he just squeezes your thigh and lifts himself off the bench to return to the rink. You swallow the leftover chunks of kit kat in your mouth before you end up choking, throw the package in the bin and walk away, trying to act as unbothered as Jungkook.

Miss Diane’s voice booms through the speaker letting everyone know that the intermission is over and the votes have been counted. Having judges at this contest is more so for an official feel, for the most part the judges never needed to vote. The results from the public’s vote were usually quite decisive, even if a judge’s vote equalled ten times the single vote a person from the public got. 

As it looks now, it is 84-64 to the girl with yellow skates. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so unhappy, not even after he had lost points for a minor mistake when calculating his error on an experiment for a chemistry paper. He looks at you once he feels your gaze, his eyes reinforcing the little chat you had earlier. 

It’s time for the judges to cast their vote. Mr. Ludwig, the owner of a café just a few blocks away, votes, to your surprise, for Jungkook. And as expected so does Miss Diane. It’s a tie.

Ten decisive points. 

Your points to give. 

Jungkook is staring at you, she isn’t. Jungkook likes to take your things from you, she doesn’t even know you. Jungkook threatens you, she has never even talked to you. But most importantly Jungkook is good at skating, he did really well but Miss “Yellow Skates” was better.

Mind set on who you’re voting for. Your arm lifts up her number. Number seven. 

Jungkook lowers his heads, chuckling lightly into his chest before he looks up and congratulates the winner, clapping along with the crowd. He skates off the rink to let her perform her winning number once again. You’re still seated by the judge’s table before thumping steps grow louder coming towards you. Just like the time he pulled you away for your first quickie in his car, he yanks you off the seat, gently enough not to bring about anyone’s attention but strong enough for you to feel the nature of your current predicament. 

“You’re so fucked,” he growls pushing in the direction of the staff room. 

“I know,” you can’t help but giggle. Ultimately this was the perfect opportunity. You fulfil your fantasy of fucking him in his embellished uniform and you also get to make sure someone who’s better than him wins. Two birds, one stone. You don’t think you’ve ever been this effective. 

Jungkook slams the door to the room shut, but doesn’t lock it. He drags you towards the door of the bathroom stalls. “Ehh, you sure about that Jeon?”

He pushes you along from behind, hand on your back, “Don’t worry, it’s clean,” he says softly before closing the door to the small stall to whisper into shoulder, “Unlike what you’re gonna be when I’m done with you.”

Jungkook’s naked arms wrap around your torso, hands landing on your hardened nipples over the fabric of your turtleneck as his mouth nips at the back of your neck. “I warned you darling.” You moan, ass rubbing against his groin enough to elicit a groan. “I won’t stop until you’re crying.” He wraps a hand around neck, right hand smoothly undoing your jeans as his hand dances on top of your skin, down your needy core and past your wet lips.

He does this as many times as he pleases. This isn’t about you. It’s about him using you. He follows the sway of your hips giving into your chase for his fingers, dipping into your heat, slowly. He starts with a finger, swirling it around, humming at the satisfying feel of you being so wet and ready for him. He squeezes your throat in approval. When he feels you clench at that he goes on to add a second finger. “Ugh, Jeon faster, please.”

Does he like how politely you’re being? Yes. But you know what else would have been polite? You voting for him. “Oh no, I don’t think so darling.” He adds a third finger and your back stutters against his broad chest, head thrown back against his shoulder. “You like that?” You nod your head, lips caught in between your teeth to repress your moans. “Then let me hear you darling.” You bite down harder on your lips. 

Now with three fingers deep in you, stretching your cunt as your juices slide down his digits he picks up his speed. He keeps his strokes irregular, he never wants you to know what's coming. In and out unlike your breaths. You have resorted to shallow breathing, head turning for you to bury your nose into Jungkook’s veiny neck, as he makes a mockery out of you. He gives you a momentary break, stuffing his mouth with his fingers, “Oh yeah, desperation is a good taste on you.” He hums reaching his fingers towards your mouth which you open to taste yourself, whining at the back of your throat. “My darling is such a good girl,” he says biting your earlobe. 

The hand that was on your throat, moves to roll your jeans past your thighs and past your knees. 

“Do you even have a condom?” You croak as a chill runs down your leg from the cold air. 

“What kind of question is that? When is that I’m never prepared?” He says, foot coming between yours to spread your legs. “I had planned for a sweet and gentle celebratory fuck after the competition, but you’re you and now we’re here.” You purr through your shivers when he runs his hands on the inside of your thighs, grazing your pussy before the pads of his fingers knead your ass. 

Frankly you’re a bit glad to have escaped his initial plan. Having sweet sex with Jungkook was never your forté, while he could switch easily between his rough and gentle personas, you were never able to act normal when faced with the dulcet tones of his praises and the soothing touches of his body against yours. With a clenched and curved back, feet planted against the mattress for leverage, he would ram slowly but firmly, head secured in the depth of your collarbones as his cock reached the depth of you, making you quaver beneath him. On occasions like that, you never stuck around for too long after you were done. Jungkook had a habit of asking if you had enjoyed the act as if he wasn’t the one on top of you appeasing your frantic high and kissing throaty moans away.

No, you preferred this, when he grabs your roughly by your rear, landing a few spanks that have your arms reaching for the walls of the stall to steady yourself as he grunts at how much wetter you’re becoming. Or at least you could deal with it better. 

“Bend over for me darling.” 

You bend over instantly when Jungkook’s arms leave your upper body, hands landing on the lid of the toilet to catch yourself. You had found yourself in this position before, and you had cried the most in all of those moments. But you had never been standing. Not to predict the future, but you’re sure Jungkook will have to carry you into an orgasm, unless he wants you to kneel on all four on the floor. 

Jungkook runs his drenched index down your spine, hand lifting back for another spank. “Ah!” And another to reprimand your scream, “Keep your voice down, unless you want us to be found out,” he smirks behind you, hand cupping your heat only to dip a finger into you without warning.

“Ohhh, shit,” you slur, fingers raking the surface of the lid. Jungkook shows no sign of being gentle, fingers abusing your pussy, driving in and out of you at an alarming speed. 

When his digits curl inside of you right before a slow exit you clamp your hand around your mouth for fear of being too loud. Despite that, your soft cries are still audible to him making him smile before he resumes his explosive fingering. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this sound,” He says, bringing his other hand under your stomach to probe your swollen and neglected clit. 

While the hastened pace of his fingers continue within you making you clench around the protrusion, Jungkook adopts a mellow pace to his massaging of your clit. The dual attack leaves you conflicted, unsure which way to rock your hips. “Arghhh,” you bite in your upper arm, clenching again around his digits. “Aww, my darling wants to come,” he coos. You rock your hips back in response. 

“Oh, but then you should have voted for me, don’t you think?” You almost cry at the loss of contact, when your cunt is left empty and gapping. 

You see him take a small step back to lean against the door of the stall. You exhale, still bend over, legs buckling when your thighs meet in a futile effort to relieve some tension. “You good there?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but you find this far from funny. 

“Jeon, please,” you say in a low, weak voice.

Ever since the first time he fucked you, Jungkook has always enjoyed toying with you, both outside and inside the bedroom. Whether it was borrowing (re: stealing) your favourite pens or taking a bite and in worse case scenario a whole portion of whatever it’s you’re eating. But nothing had ever topped this. Having you desperate to reach your orgasm and yet denying you that pleasure was a big favourite of his. He’s sure he could easily get himself off right now, ripping his condom off at the right moment just for him to decorate the smooth roundness of your ass with warm white stripes.

“Jeon.” He might have chosen to make you come had you called him Jungkook instead. But you’re you and he’s enjoying himself so he stays put.

“For old times sake, I think you should use me if you want to come so bad,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Really, Jeon?” 

“As real as you not voting for me, yes.” You shake your head. Jungkook’s competitive streak usually worked to your advantage. You enjoyed telling him how you doubt he could do something just to have him do it to you. It was just like asking, without the actual asking. You might have been able to pull something similar for his fingering skills but you’re both well aware of how many times the pounding from his rough digits has made you come.

Your hands push against the lid of the toilet, your frame wobbles a bit once you’re standing up straight and you can hear Jungkook’s giggly response. You turn around, slowly, to face his slightly red face and the very prominent bulge in his pants. He follows your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says readjusting his pants but only making the matter worse, “I can wait.” 

You lift your head, step closer to him so you can catch a hold of the wrist below his wet hand. “Three,” you say, eyes travelling down his face to his parted lips. Adjusting your stance, you guide his three flexed out digits towards your dripping entrance. “Kiss me.”

While he likes toying with you, Jungkook is rather obedient especially when it advantages him. So he drops his head, hair tickling your nose, before his lips settle on yours. In that moment, you drive his fingers past your drenched nether lips as you moan into his kiss. 

You’re convinced Jungkook’s dick is feeling a bit uncared for despite his reassurance. Doing your best to fuck yourself on his fingers, your hand gets occupied with palming his hard member. You’re totally only focusing on pleasuring yourself so much he cups the hand you have his cock and reinforces your grip and kneading. He hums into your kiss, satisfied and probably leaking in his boxers. 

You suddenly let go of his reddened lips when he spreads his digits inside of you, the pads of his fingers grazing your walls, making you whine into his neck. You slow down your pace, feeling how close you are, “Jun– oh fuck, yeah right there.” His pace quickens once he registers the tremors in your legs. Fingers plunging deeper into your leaking pussy. Both hands free, you engulf Jungkook’s stature, holding on as his other hand grabs a strong hold of your cheeks to plant a harsh kiss on your lips.

He spreads his fingers and jams them in and out of you, He whispers for you to come on him, to let him hear you exhale choked breaths for him to remember tonight when he’s jerking off to the thought of you. You do just that.

Your chest heaves, fingernails digging into his back, face hiding from Jungkook’s protruding eyes as the tension in your core ruptures and your legs go slack. “Oh god, fuck me.” 

“All in due time darling,” he answers back, hand running down your back.

“I meant to say fuck you, Jeon.” You manage to croak out once you’re sure you’ve reached the complete end of your orgasm.

Your hands loosen around his back and you step back, head turning down to stare at the slick on your inner thighs. “Surprised?” He inquires.

“No. Not exactly,” your head lift, “you’ve have probably ruined sex for me with other people for a while.”

Jungkook might have taken your statement as a compliment dick twitching in response, but you were in all honesty a bit horrified at the thought. How long is a while? This can’t last forever, can it ?

“Let’s take care of that since I’m feeling apologetic.” You point at his bulge. Your hands wrap around the neon green belt on his pants undoing it and slowly releasing his strained cock. It still looked as deliciously curved, bloodshot and veiny against his stomach as the last time you saw it, which was a mere two days ago at his dorm. 

You’re about to lower yourself onto unstable knees, “Uh-uh, some other time,” he says turning you around and bending you over again. What can he say? He really enjoyed the view of your ass, “Right now, I want to feel your pussy around me.”

When Jungkook hastily eases the throbbing length into your wet core without warning, you deduce that he’s still a bit angered about your vote. Anger that seems to dissipate once he’s fully rooted in you. “Oh this is the best  feeling in the world,” he moans from above you.

He isn’t looking for a sweet fuck today and directly resorts to slamming into you, making your hands slide against the lid off the toilet. You moan, tossing your head back when the hands on your ass knead the flesh and spread your cheeks for him to continue his eager ramming. When you’re already clenching, pulling jagged groans from Jungkook’s throat, you know you won’t last long.

“Hey, careful there,” he coos at you, lifting you up to place your hands on the tank of the toilet. “Wouldn’t want you to hit your head. That’s not how I want to make you cry.” He slows down his strokes enough to allow you to steady your grip on the tank and then resumes sinking down into you at his rushed speed.

The force with which he pistons into you is enough to have your legs hitting against the edge of the seat, as your fingers fumble to keep you stable accidentally flushing the toilet once in a while. Jungkook fucks and spanks you to his heart’s desire. “Look how good you’re to me,” he praises, hand pinching your nipple before constricting the movement of your breath. “Jungko–” He rams into you. He loves taking your breath away mid-moan. “Fuck, why are you so big?” You mewl, eyes watering as he repeatedly removes himself from your depths only to slam back in.

Jungkook feels your pussy clench around him, slowly milking him dry, getting him closer to his own orgasm. So he reaches down, arms wrapping around your torso, hands on your mounds as he pulls your back against his chest. “Can you spread your legs a little for me darling?” He asks softly and you comply. Whatever he chooses to ask right now you’re sure you will comply. You moan when you feel him deeper.

“You like the way my cock feels in you?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “You fill me up so good.”

Jungkook can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented my dick this much.” He bites your shoulder, hips bucking harsly against yours, “My darling is that desperate?” You shake your head against his shoulder, biting into your bottom lip.

You might be chasing your own orgasm, but despite that you’re being truthful. Jungkook has the best dick you’ve ever ridden. He knows the places that make you lose it, and he can reach them. He takes care of you even when he’s toying with you. You’ve never been left unsatisfied or hurt. Honestly, he’s a great fuck buddy. Also he’s just Jungkook.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“You.”

It slips out of you and you can’t take it back, not when you’re sure he heard it so clearly. Jungkook stills at the sound of your confession and you finally get to take a deep breath. 

Your eyes might be screwed shut but you’re certain of the look on Jungkook’s eyes as he peers down at your head thrown back above his shoulder. It’s the same look he has been giving you more and more often lately. A look you had been trying to avoid. It didn’t feel like he was just looking at you, but inside you. Or more so looking for something inside of you.

You manage a couple of breaths before Jungkook proceeds his strokes with an even greater ferocity than before. “Ah–a–ah,” you choke out as your hands cup his hands that are firmly planted around your breasts. The sound of Jungkook’s hips slapping against your ass fills the confined stall and you release a cry each time he gains leverage leaving your walls battered and full. 

He doesn’t stop. He keeps going murmuring the occasional “Mine” into the air with furrowed eyebrows as you clench harder around him. His throbbing member slides into you, fully sheathed within your warmth. Once, twice, thrice. Enough times to make you dizzy and lose count. And with each slap of ass against hips you offer a guttural moan, eyes tearing up, legs trembling. 

“Jeo– I’m cl–oh fuck, so close.”

Jungkook's warm finger caresses your pussy. “ I know darling.” His palm kneads into your clit, the overwhelming stimulation makes you choke down a sob. “Just let go, I’m here,” he whispers, nose buried against your cheek.

A few more calculated strokes from Jungkook’s hips has him buried deep in your seeping cunt, sloppy thumps surrounding your combined moans and groans. Maybe it’s the way Jungkook’s left hand caresses the breast over your heart, or the cushioned kisses he places against your jaw or the way he lets himself go right before you come. Or maybe it’s all of those things that make you cream on his cock, juices gushing down your thighs and onto him as he kisses you deeply, tongue wrapping around yours to catch your moans, teeth pulling on your lips the same way you pull at his heartstrings. Only when you’re gasping for air does his lips let go of yours.

“You good?”

“Yeah, all good” you sigh.

“Come on, look at me?” 

You do your best to remove any trace of tear streaks as fast as possible, removing your face from the crook of his neck. 

Jungkook still sees, “I am that good, huh?”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 

“You’re such a cry baby,” he teases and you can’t refute, he gives your cheek a peck, “and I kinda love it.”

You’re really not a cry baby. Jungkook’s stroke game is just that good. No matter how diluted your conscience is you could never deny his claim. The state in which you’re left is proof enough. 

Jungkook slips out of you, soft cock against sensitive walls. He uses what’s at his disposal and rips off some toilet paper to clean the combined result of your yearning between your legs. It takes a couple of toilet strips to get the job done.

“Thanks,” you mumble when he’s done, flushing the used paper.

“No problem, darling.” He lifts your pants back up, reaching for your discarded top as well. “I can be the caring type you know.”

With a scoff leaving your chest you pluck your t-shirt off of his hands, “No need to convince me, Jeon.”

You really didn’t need convincing. Jeon Jungkook is a reasonable guy. He is a friend you can count on, ambitious when it comes to his studies, smart enough to do double majors (if he had made the choice), good-looking even in the most unflattering circumstances, a champ in bed and sometimes too sweet for his and your own good. 

You had gotten to know all these sides of him with time, some of which came to your knowledge involuntarily, like how he always has a packet of kit kats stashed away for you for whenever you come over to hang and occasionally study before you fuck. The same way you had found yourself reaching for a softer scented detergent after you found out from one of his roommates that he isn’t fond of strong fragrances. 

You had both picked up clues about each other, whether it was voluntary or involuntary. 

And, yes maybe he’s more than reasonable, he’s quite great actually. But Kyra thinks you deserve greater. You don’t know how much you agree with her. But you do acknowledge the fact that Jungkook has been the only one you’ve done whatever this is with. You don’t have much to compare him to, except for the occasional rendezvous you would have back home with men you met on tinder. Maybe you need to explore some more? 

“Ah, I think I still need to convince you some more,” he says to your back after ruffling back into his pants. 

You turn around to face that look you dread. “Whatever floats your boat.” You rush to open the stall’s door, hurried breath brushing against Jungkook’s neck as you storm out towards the sink. You wash your hands to keep yourself from looking at him where he stands against the door frame, styled hair grazing his still flushed cheeks.

Jungkook joins you to wash his own hands. You dry yourself, letting the hot air from the hand dryer drown out the silence. With one final look at the mirror you attempt to look presentable and composed. Jungkook flicks water at you. You throw him a warning look. He does it again.

“Jeon, stop it.” You take a paper towel to dab yourself dry. He does it again.

You exhale a slow breath, ”It’s really not funny and it’s a waste of water.” 

But in true Jungkook fashion he gives it another go. “Jungkook!” You shriek making him crack a scrunched up smile.

He keeps at it until you crack a smile of your own in defeat. “See, eventually you always come around,” he says and you’re confused. He has been throwing a lot of these weird statements at you lately. 

“Okay…. but for now I’m gonna leave before you start annoying me again.”

You walk towards the door, a cool hand touching the cool handle. “You know you can be in my boat too right?” Your step staggers. “It won’t sink or anything, we could both float in it.”

You chuckle, “Be patient Jeon”. Maybe Kyra isn’t right for once. You close your eyes into a stabilizing breath. “I planned on crying some more so I can be sure it will keep floating even with me on it,” you say to the door before walking out.

Jungkook might have lost the competition, but he won something far better. Your reassurance.

It’s with a triumphant smile and a bounce to his step that Jungkook exits the staff room and heads back to skate with part of the public that’s now in the rink. His eyes search for your whereabouts only to land on your hand closing around another kit kat. You’re always consistent with the things and people you like he thinks with a smirk on his face.

“That’s my cry baby.”

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

all rights reserved namgee

[male-reader-requests]

Dog Days Pt.1

Pairings: Mirio Togata x Male!Reader 

Word Count: 2,344

Warnings: This is technically part two to Puppy Love but it can be read as a stand-alone. This is also going to be split into 2 parts just because this one is already stupidly long, and I promise the next installment of this will be better and have more to do with the request!

-

When people first meet Mirio they tend to akin him to the sun. He's very bright and nice and lives to make people happy, and that's who he is. He doesn't hide behind a mask of lies to please others, that's just who he is.

When people meet (M/N) on the other hand they always think he's lying. No matter how nice and polite he is to everyone around him they always think he's some sort of delinquent, that he's a horrible person. "There's no way someone that tall could be good, no way someone with a quirk like that is a decent person."

Sometimes (M/N) wishes they were right.

(E/C) eyes shown with disdain as they looked on at the wreckage before them, blinking lazily as red shown in the dark. Mirio had somehow convinced him, despite (M/N) really not wanting to, to come see class 1-A and help out with training. It had seemed like a good idea, sort of, but now (M/N) just wanted to go to sleep.

This had all started because of that broccoli haired boy, what was his name? Midio? Medusa? Mizuza? Whatever his name was he'd found (M/N) and Mirio sometime this morning.

The two of them had been outside, Mirio messing with the flowers and grass while (M/N) worked on a paper for his History class. It was an odd, but cute sight if you ever saw it in person. Mirio had his head pillowed on one of (M/N)'s thighs, the taller male making use of his many pairs of hands. Two hands were typing away at the laptop in his lap, two of them were propping him up against the ground, and the other two were playing with golden hair. 

Truthfully Mirio would have loved to have (M/N)'s undivided attention, but him passing his classes was also important so he chose to stamp down on that feeling. It was a nice and sunny day, warm and on the weekend. The two of them didn't have any plans but they did want to spend the time together, and Mirio had used that as a weapon. 

Soon after (M/N) had finished his essay the green boy had shown up, talking to Mirio about some kind of training that (M/N) was too tired to remember but somehow the two of them had gotten dragged to a cityscape training field.

Aizawa was there, looking as tired as (M/N) felt, along with 19 students. Scratch that, there was 20, one of them was just ridiculously short. 

All of them were dressed out of uniform, most likely in their hero costumes, and were staring at Mirio and (M/N) as if they were forgien objects. 

(M/N) sighed, (E/C) eyes closed as his hands stuffed themselves in the multitude of pockets in his clothing. He hated dealing with children, 99% of them were afraid of spiders, but he hated dealing with teenagers more due to them not having come to terms with their fear of spiders. He wasn't a mean guy, but when someone is being rude to you over something you can't control it can make you pretty pissy.

And now here (M/N) was, looking at the wreckage brought on by an anger issue having pomeranian. He was hiding, well not really hiding but going stealthily behind the profanity-wielding child, in the shadows in a hope that they'd just call the match off.

(M/N) wasn't really much of a fighter. He could fight well, hell he could kill a man if he so pleased, but that wasn't really his thing. Due to the arachnid-ness of his being, he was much stronger than other people. Like actual spiders, he was somewhere between 100 and 150 times stronger in proportion to his weight, so (M/N) decided to use that strength to do wreckage clearing and rescue missions.

But now this blond Bitch was getting on every single nerve in his body and making him think of changing over to a confrontation hero. 

"Come out you eight-legged freak!" the blonde yelled, hands sparking as he shouted to the sky. 

(M/N) sighed as he sat on the ground, head propped up by one set of elbows as the others slowly gathered silk from his back. The kid was good, he could admit that, but he needed lots of polish. A literal shit load of polish, and then he would be a great hero.

With another sigh (M/N) looked up at the sky in wonder, wondering why he had to have been the one here, before whistling sharply. It got the kid's attention quickly, spinning around ready to attack, only for his hands to get attached to his body by a mass of silk slowly turning him into a cocoon. 

He thrashed about, screeching as he slowly tilted back before falling with a less than dignified yelp. Groaning as he forced himself up off the ground (M/N) moved over to the kid, watching as he yelled out some pretty creative insults. (M/N) then promptly sat on his chest, ripping the ribbon off of the kids neck before holding it up in the air. 

A buzzer went off before some red-haired kid made his way into the wreckage. Not wanting to see the kid mauled (M/N) got up, leaving the kid to pick his friend up. On the way out he met Mirio, giving the blond the ribbon that was meant for the two of them. 

"You were great out there!" the blond was practically vibrating. He'd always enjoyed watching (M/N) use his quirk, watching him fight. "Yeah?" (M/N)'s voice was low and tired, but there was a slight smile on his face as he gently ruffled the blonde's hair.

He left after that, Mirio entering the training area to watch as Bakugo was drug off by Kirishima.

-

Izuku didn't really know what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't exactly it.

Earlier that day he'd found Mirio and uh... his boyfriend? together. They'd been talking softly about something but had stopped when Izuku had approached them. He then word dumped on them about how his class was doing some kind of special training and that it would be much appreciated if they could come and help.

Mirio had jumped right on, but the other boy had been a bit hesitant. Izuku could tell why now.

Mirio and (M/N) had thrown everyone's names into a bag and were drawn at random, fighting whoever until they either got through the whole class or were too tired to continue. The fights had all been stupid easy so far, Mirio taking everyone out quickly, or making them surrender. 

(M/N)'s fights had been a bit messier. It was obvious he was uncomfortable fighting, his strength going on display when he'd hit through a wall on a missed punch. Everyone was wary of him, they knew nothing about how he fought and what kind of strengths he had other than the eyes and the arms. 

The first person against (M/N) had ended up being Jiro. It had been a quick match, (M/N) capturing the girl in silk, but now after she seemed slightly dazed as she sat on the floor in the back of the room. 

As Izuku looked around the room he realized that everyone that (M/N) had fought was actually more or less dazed, looking extremely sleepy. Confused, and a bit concerned Izuku made his way over to Jiro who had been hit first, but was cut off as Aizawa declared (M/N) the winner of his fight between him and Bakugo.

Mirio went to go greet the other male before going to his fight, (M/N) coming in looking tired.

There were soot marks all over his skin thanks to dodging Bakugo's attacks, and Izuku watched as he rubbed at his eyes, smearing it like cheap eyeliner. He watched as (M/N) yawned and made his way over to a corner before sitting, letting his head fall back and close his (E/C) eyes. The red ones stayed open.

It was a bit unnerving to look at that, to watch as pure red eyes moved around in their sockets to look around. It was hard to figure out where they were looking exactly since they were one color without a pupil, but Izuku got the general idea that he was looking around at everything. 

Midoriya had heard things about (M/N) from other students and in passing, most of it coming from Mirio gushing about him at any given point, but he knew he was strong. 

A lot of people, mostly the second years, seemed weirded out that (M/N) had already decided to become a rescue hero. It wasn't very common that people decided what kind of hero they would become in their 3rd year, most waited until they had a bit of experience to see what they were best at, and even then most people wanted to become confrontational heroes, to be the person who took down the bad guy and saved everyone. (M/N) seemed content to stick to the shadows.

Maybe it had to do with his arachnid quirk, not wanting to be seen or to be put in any danger? Maybe it was just a personal preference though?

Midoriya hadn't realized it, as per usual, but he was mumbling to himself. Lost in his own little world he didn't notice that 6 red eyes had shifted to look at him, (S/T) ears tuned into the mess of words pouring from his mouth.

For (M/N) he was used to people talking about him behind his back, he was odd even in a world of superheroes. He had 6 arms and 8 eyes, he was far from normal so people talked about him. Most of it wasn't very good, people talking about how creepy he was and how he wouldn't be a good hero because he wasn't good with people, but the drivel coming from the bush-boy was statistics and questions about his quirk. 

All of it curiosity without any of the disgust and distrust.

Curious, (M/N) focused all 6 red eyes on the boy, his figure slowly coming into focus.

Like an actual spider (M/N)'s eyes were put into groups for seeing different things. 3 of them were for noticing motion in a blurry wide-angle vision, 3 of them were specifically for judging the distance between things, and the 2 that weren't red were the only ones that actually focused on things and saw in color. These ones were for locking onto things when he needed to. 

Right now the green-haired boy was a blurry figure that actually just looked like a tall bush. He was roughly 8 feet away, mumbling to himself.

Confused, and slightly concerned as to why the boy had taken such an interest in him, (M/N) let his head drop onto his shoulder, cracking his eyes open to squint at the male. He didn't seem to be noticing his surroundings, but the other students were ignoring his words so this must have been a normal thing. 

Sighing, (M/N) sat up so that he was leaning forward, scooting himself around so he was actually facing the kid. 

He was a little under average height, messy hair and wide eyes, freckles. He looked like the sort of kid you'd want as a younger brother, cute in a sort of boyish way, but now he looked like a deer in headlight. 

Midoriya, who had been lost in his own world, hadn't noticed that (M/N) had moved, but now the tall male was a bit closer. He was sitting cross-legged, arms propping him up on the floor and on his elbows, but all 8 of those eyes seemed to be trained on him as his head tilted slightly to the side.

It... was horrifying in all honesty. (M/N) was tall, he was a big guy in general, but as he peered at Midoriya it was terrifying. Like being under the eyes of a predator.

"What's your deal?" (M/N) said softly, the words slurring slightly with exhaustion. 

Midoriya knew he was being spoken to, knew that (M/N) was talking to him, but at the moment he was a mere statue in a garden. He was stuck. 

The area where (M/N)'s eyebrows should have been furrowed, confusion crossing his features. The kid had been mumbling to himself just fine a moment ago but now he was completely still, eyes impossibly large.

Concerned, (M/N) drug himself to his knees, leaning forward to lightly tug at the kid's uniform. It was like setting off a firework, fine for a second or two before he exploded. 

He immediately tried to jump back, only to stumble and fall like the clutz he was.

(M/N) blinked owlishly at the kid, who was also blinking in confusion. 

The kid wasn't... actually scared of him, right? He was a teenager, he could get over his fear and realize that (M/N) wasn't going to hurt him... right?!

The kid looked scared though, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

Sighing lightly (M/N) waved a hand at the green-haired male, moving to stand up. 

"Sorry for startling you," he mumbled, pulling his hood over his head before stuffing his hands in various pockets.

Times like now (M/N) wished he had been born without so many limbs, even if it was just so that he could have sleeves to hide himself with.

[asmileyoucouldbottle]

elevator buttons (and morning air) - cressder

@winterrhayle THIS IS SO LATE I’M SORRY ELLIE ILY <3 for the smgh gift exchange!

word count: 2137

cress asks her (very cute) apartment neighbor to help her catch a spider, while struggling with infatuation.

- <3 -

“Um… hello?” 

The confused face of Cress’ next apartment neighbor searched her own, and Cress wondered if it was too late to back out.  They’d made eye contact exactly once  before, when they’d gotten in the elevator together. The girl had returned her smile, so Cress figured she was nice enough. 

A singular smile was probably not the best basis for asking a favor of someone at 7am. Especially this kind of favor. And talking to strangers was very high up on the list of “things Cress hates.” 

It was definitely too early for this. 

Then the sight of the spider that had crawled across her keyboard filled her mind and she shuddered in her slippers.

“Erm… hi.” Cress wound her hand in her hair, very aware that it was early and she’d probably just woken this girl up. However, as she looked her neighbor up and down, Cress realized that she looked very much awake- with a smudge of grease over her eye and hands covered in work gloves.

She also realized that grease, googles, and all, her neighbor was pretty.

Talking to strangers was one, very stressful, thing, but pretty strangers she was attracted to? Abort, abort. 

“Come in?” Cress was grateful as the stranger pushed the door open, despite the fact that she hadn’t managed to come up with anything to say. Cress shuffled in, her overlong t-shirt she’d slept in brushing her knees. Despite the grease stained work tank top her neighbor was wearing, she still had sleep shorts on, which made Cress feel a little better about being in her pjs. 

Cress cleared her throat awkwardly, her hands straying to braid her hair subconsciously. “I’m Cress, and I live next door?”

Great initiative! You sounded like you were asking her a question!

“Cinder.” The girl- Cinder- introduced herself hesitantly. “Nice to meet you?”

“Can you help me get rid of a spider?”  Cress blurted, hands in her hair coming to a standstill.

Cinder looked slightly taken aback, but bemused. “Sure?”

Cress breathed an internal sigh of relief. Thank God. She isn’t even looking at me like I’m weird. 

“I was finishing an assignment when a huge one went across my keyboard, and it was, like, three inches long. Well maybe not that big, but you get the point. I hate spiders… ” She realized she was starting to ramble and flushed, strangling her hands in her hair. “I’m sorry to bother you, especially in the morning.” She emphasised.

Cinder shrugged. “It’s no problem, I was up early working on an assignment anyways.”

The assurance gave Cress barely any relief. “I can offer you food?” She added, hoping to smooth over the fact that she existed.

Cinder laughed, and the slight tension in the room was released. “In that case, I’m sold.”

Cress peered over Cinder's shoulder, and caught sight of a workbench pushed against the corner of the room. Perched on the edge was what looked like… 

“A bot?”  Cress loved coding AI tech, and was actually majoring in computer science.

“Yeah, I’m a mechanic, well technically an engineer, but I do some other personal projects on the side.”

“That’s so cool!” Cress felt her grip loosen from it’s anxious hold. “I’m a coder, and AI tech is some of my favorite.” 

“Really? I have a bot named Iko, and she’s been mentioning something about color changing eyes? While she loves my physical additions and such, I’m sure she’d appreciate some technological improvements.”

Cress beamed. “Wow, a personal bot? I’d love to check her out sometime!”

“That would be great.” Cinder held her gaze for half a second, before they both looked away. It might’ve been Cress’ ever overactive imagination, but she could’ve sworn she felt sparks. Then again, that happened every time her useless lesbian self made eye contact with a pretty girl, but still.

What is this, a rom-com?

Cinder cleared her throat, before leading them to the door. “Show the way?”

Cress leapt at the opportunity immediately, leading them to her apartment. Cress pushed open the door, forcing herself not to jump away as soon as it opened a crack.

“I’ll go first.” Cinder must’ve noticed her anxiety, and she gave her a comforting smile that both soothed Cress’ heart and made it beat more erratically.

Taking a steadying breath, Cress followed Cinder in, leaving the door open in case she needed to make a quick exit.

Cinder grabbed a glass from the counter, which also made Cress feel lighter. Setting spiders free was better than killing them, even if they were spiders the size of her thumb.

“By your laptop right?” Cinder gestured to the work table, and Cress nodded with a nervous gulp. 

A leg crawled up and over the desk and Cress jumped, clinging to Cinder. The tan girl sagged under the sudden weight, one arm coming up to support her from underneath.

The sudden touch made Cress freeze. She realized her arms were wrapped around Cinder’s neck, and she was clinging rather tightly. I just quite literally jumped into a super cute stranger’s arms. Stars help me.

Cress considered hopping down, when the spider ran across the floor by Cinder’s feet.  She squeaked, and clung tighter. She vaguely thought of how awkward this must be to Cinder, but there no fucking way she was touching the same ground the spider was on. 

Also, Cinder was remarkably buff and did not seem to be struggling at all. 

Must be all the mechanic work? Cress thought with a slight flush.

Stop thinking about a girl’s muscles! We’re in the middle of a crisis here!

Cinder scuffed her foot, and the spider raced back up to the table. Cress winced, and watched through partially closed eyes in awe as with her free hand, Cinder dropped the cup upturned on the spider.

“I got it!” Cinder’s voice was right besides her ear, and Cress widened her eyes. The spider was indeed secure in the glass, and Cinder’s hair was in her eye.

With a blush, she fully realized her position once more. Her heart sped even faster than before, which she didn’t know was possible. Cinder smelled of car grase and faintly cinnamon. A combination that was shockingly attractive. The thought made her flush even deeper, as was the fact that her bare legs were gripping a small strip of the neighbor’s midsection where her shirt had ridden up.

“Ahaha,” Cress laughed awkwardly, doing a weird shoulder pat thingy. “Thank you.” Is this flirting? 

Cinder tilted her head to look at Cress, and from their position, the movement made their faces remarkably close. With yet another squeak, Cress dropped to the ground so fast she stumbled.

“You’re welcome.” Cinder’s voice was bemused as she bit her lip in an attempt not to smile. It was distracting, but soon Cress was giggling. Cinder joined her, and all her anxiety melted. 

“Alright, there’s still Part 2.” Cinder cautioned, gesturing to the spider. Cress considered it. 

“We can drop it in the flowersill.” Cress suggested, gesturing to the window.

“Flowersill?” Cinder repeated.

“Oh.” Cress flushed a tiny bit in embarrassment again. “I don’t exactly know the word for it but like, those cute little flower beds that attach to windows?”

Cinder shrugged with a smile. “Works for me.”

After poking around a bit, Cress came back with a piece of paper. Cinder bit back a smile again, and Cress found her gaze pulled to her lips. “This part might get a little scary, if you need to hop in my arms again.” She said it wryly, teasingly, but Cress suppressed the urge to bury her head in her hands and disappear forever.

Rather than jumping into Cinder’s arms again, she settled for hopping on the counter and keeping all parts of her body away from the table and floor. From her new perch, Cress watched as Cinder slid the paper under and brought the spider to the window to release it. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Cress gave Cinder a wide smile when she turned back to her. Cinder smiled back, and her eyes crinkled. Cress’ heart fluttered again.

“So… grease huh?” Cress realized what a weird conversation starter that was and blushed as Cinder raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?”

“Well- you smelled like it and there was some above your eyes and well-” Cress stuttered to a rambling stop because she really didn’t know how to explain why she said that. She didn’t know why she said that.

“Oh.” It was Cinder’s turn to blush as she scrubbed at her eye. The grease stubbornly remained, and Cinder’s nose was wrinkling with concentration through the effort. Cress tried to repress a smile, but it was impossible.

“Here, let me help.” Reaching to the side, she picked up a cloth off the counter. Running it under water until it was damp, Cress gestured Cinder forward. Hesitantly, her neighbor stepped towards her, and Cress lifted the cloth. Carefully, she brushed away a few strands of hair, and Cinder’s breath hitched a bit. Cress thought hers did too. She gently rubbed at the grease, and with the soap on the cloth, it came off of Cinder’s reddening face with little effort. 

“Maybe we should try a collab sometime?” Cinder seemed to almost blurt it, catching Cress by such surprise she almost dropped the cloth. The moment had felt like a pause, and the disruption startled her. The girl had seemed so calm and collected, but the chink in the armor was just as nervous as Cress.

Despite her initial surprise, she glowed at the suggestion to spend more time getting to know her cute next door neighbor, and resisted jumping off the counter and spinning.

“That would be amazing.” Cress hopped a bit in excitement, and Cinder gave her a fond smile.

“Do you want to stay for breakfast?” Cress wasn’t sure what compelled her to ask, and she buried her hands back in her brown tangle of hair.

“Oh!” Cinder seemed pleasantly surprised, and Cress beamed. “That would be great!”

“How do pancakes sound?” Cress crossed to the fridge, practically buzzing with excitement as Cinder followed right behind her.

“Amazing. And can I help?” Cinder was right at her shoulder and Cress nodded, uncertain if she could find coherent words as she got out the supplies for pancakes.

Cinder grabbed a bowl that was, unbeknownst to her, filled with pancake powder.  Her face lifted in shock  as it poofed out of the bowl, covering her features in a layer of powder. Their laughs mingled as they poured water into the mix, and Cress felt lighter than she had in weeks. Cinder took to sitting while Cress heated the stove and got the eggs going. Occasionally, she would sneak a look over at powder-covered Cinder and grin to herself. One time she almost burnt the eggs as she got distracted.

"Here." Taking a dishrag from the stove handle, Cress swiped it quickly around Cinder's face - considering - a little too late that she just should've just given the rag to her. Two times in one day!

Cinder coughed a bit, her hands going to fiddle with the ends of her sleeves as she leaned back on her heels, pink in the cheeks.

"Thanks." She managed. Cress smiled, plating the eggs and getting ready to start cooking the pancakes.

After a few minutes, they had settled into a steady conversation about their studies and work. Cress filled with excitement as they discussed plans to build a robot that could make them ice cream. It had started as a joke, but the more they talked about it, the more realistic the idea became.

"I would make sure it has strawberry for myself." Cress was saying. "What about you."

"Butter pecan." Cinder responded immediately.

"Oooh, good choice. French vanilla would be my second."

"Me too!" Cinder replied. "Nothing wrong with a classic."

"Agreed!"

The more they conversed, the more Cress was enamored with Cinder's wit and sharp mind. She'd always been a romantic, falling in love quickly. But she'd learned her lesson in the past, and was happy to bide her time and truly get to know Cinder.

A timer on her phone rang, and Cress jumped.

"My first class is in 15 minutes."

"Oh!" Cinder stood up as well. "Yeah.. here's my number." She scribbled it on a napkin. Cress grinned as she wrote hers on another napkin.

Handing it off to Cinder, their fingers brushed. It was far from the first contact they’d had this morning, but it filled Cress with a feeling of hope nonetheless.

Cinder tipped her head, giving Cress a simultaneously sweet and wry smile. “Call me if you see any more spiders.”

Cress laughed, waving at Cinder on her way out. “Will do.” 

She knew that spiders weren’t the only thing she’d be calling about.

[wooyunhwa2]

𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 | 𝑱𝒀

Genre: fluff, smut

part 1 | part 2

Pairing: yandere!Yunho x fem reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: choking, crying, hair pulling, rough sex, oral (giving and receiving), dom!yunho, general posessiveness, yunho is generally just kind of insane

Synopsis: He was tall, charismatic, and had a smile that could outshine the sun, but your fun date with Yunho soon proved to be more than you bargained for.

“Hey!” 

You looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. As you turned, you noticed a tall figure trotting up to you, waving a hand to get your attention. 

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right? I’m Yunho, Yeosang’s friend. Sorry, I kinda ran here. I was really worried I was gonna be late,” he said, looking a little winded, though still sporting a beaming smile. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said, tilting your head way up to be able to make eye contact. Holy shit, he was tall. Yeosang had mentioned that, but for some reason you underestimated him a little.  

“Awesome! I mean, I’ve seen pictures of you, so technically it’s not a blind date, but close enough, right?” he laughed. 

“It’s ok, I cheated too. Yeosang showed me your Facebook profile, so I guess we’re even.” 

Though, you had to admit, he was way cuter in person. He had fluffy, platinum-blonde hair and a dark undercut, and big, friendly eyes. He was wearing a giant sky blue sweater, and it looked so soft that you kinda wanted to ask if you could touch it. Would that be weird?

“That bastard!” he faux-growled, shaking his fist at the sky. He seemed like kind of a dork, but in a cute way. He had a smile on his face that could only be compared to the literal sun. You laughed, and followed him as he walked up to the ice skate rental booth. 

“I’ll get your rentals, ok?”

“Oh, actually, I uh…” you held up the tote bag you’d been carrying. “I kinda brought my own.” You smiled sheepishly when he looked impressed. 

“Really? Do you skate a lot?”

“A little,” you said. Maybe more than just a little. You’d been skating since you were a kid, and the ice was practically your second home. You’d even won a few medals at a local figure skating tournament some years ago, but you felt a bit shy about bragging on a first date. 

“Well, you know what that means,” he said seriously. 

“...What does it mean?”

“We can race, duh!” 

He paid for his skates and grabbed them off the counter, gesturing to a bench over by the frozen lake. You sat on it and began lacing up. It was always the most annoying part, but it would be worth it once you finally got out onto the ice. He hummed while he did up his laces, taking a little longer than you to get everything tightened. You’d had plenty of practice, so it didn’t take you nearly as long as it once did. 

You glanced over at him as you waited. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were starting to turn pink from the chilly air. Wow, he was really, really cute. He caught you looking and smiled, and you quickly looked away, a little embarrassed. 

“Phew! Ready.” Yunho stood up, swaying his ankles a few times to make sure his skates were secure. “Don’t fall, ok?”

“Ha, no promises,” you said as you moved your feet onto the lake, feeling the blades slide over its frozen surface. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you do!” He glided backwards a little, holding his arms out for support if you were to fall. You weren’t worried at all about falling, but his sweater looked so soft and inviting that you couldn’t help but to fake losing balance just a little bit as an excuse to hold onto him. You let your hands rest on top of his forearms, and you were pleased to note that his sweater was even softer than it looked. He gently held onto your arms, pulling you forward with him as he moved across the ice. 

You have pretty small arms to begin with, but his hands were huge and easily wrapped around your wrists, keeping you steady. He wasn’t half bad at ice skating, and you were a little impressed. 

“You’re pretty good at this!” you said. 

“Thanks! I played some hockey in high school. I’m a little rusty, though.”

He carefully let go of your arms, spinning around so that he could skate beside you. His long legs allowed him to easily set a fast pace, and you found yourself having to work a little to keep up with him. 

“Not fair! You’re taller, so I’m at a disadvantage!” you whined playfully. 

He stuck his tongue out, giving you a cheeky smile as he took off ahead of you. Not to be bested, you dug your blades into the ice, propelling yourself forward to catch up. 

You skated until your legs were about ready to fall off, having way too much fun to stop. Yunho was a formidable opponent, nearly skating in circles around you at times. It seemed like both of you had downplayed your skills a bit. “Rusty” my ass!

“Ahh, I’m so tired. I feel like I could eat an elephant,” you panted, hands on your knees, breath forming little clouds around your head. 

“Isn’t it ‘horse?’ Like, ‘I’m so hungry I could eat a horse?’”

“I guess that just means I’m really hungry. It sounded right in my head.” 

Yunho laughed, and his eyes scrunched up a little. He really reminded you of a giant human puppy. 

“Sorry if this is kinda sudden, but… I could make you something for dinner? I’m not much of a cook, but I make a mean frozen pizza.” He looked at you sheepishly, the corners of his mouth turning up into a shy smile. 

Your mouth watered a little at the idea of carbs. You really were starving, and Yunho seemed like a total sweetheart, so why not? 

He drove you back to his place, and got to work right away on the pizzas. He had you do the honors of picking the flavors, and you chose one with pepperoni and one with chicken and veggies. He made a big deal about being impressed with your exquisite taste in cuisine, but you’re pretty sure he was just being a dork again. 

You watched Friends on his couch while you ate, laughing with your mouth full of pizza on more than one occasion. He almost choked once, which made you laugh even harder. Every now and then he’d look over at you and smile, eyes bright and cheerful, and your heart would skip a beat just a little. He had to be the sweetest guy you’d ever met in your life. Like, he was practically a ray of sunshine on two legs. 

You helped him rinse off your plates in the sink after the episode finished, wanting to be a little helpful at least since he made you dinner and all. You accidentally splashed him at one point, and he declared war, getting payback by dipping his hand under the faucet stream and flicking droplets all across your face. You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut and laughing as drops of water assaulted your cheeks. 

You stumbled back a bit, and he moved his hands up to your waist, keeping you steady. When you opened your eyes, he was right in front of you, eyes flickering down to your lips. You placed your hands against the soft fabric over his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your palms. Your heart fluttered a little, watching how his long eyelashes moved as he took in the details of your face from up close. His hands slid around to your back, gently holding you there. 

“You’re so cute. Can I kiss you?” Yunho said, tightening his hands around your waist, pulling you close against his body. His face was so close to yours, and you balled your hands up in his sweater and pulled him closer instead of answering with words. Everything about him was soft and warm, and you melted against his lips as he kissed you sweetly. 

When you were this close, it became apparent just how small you were next to him. He had to bend over to be able to reach you, and you stood on your tippy toes to gain some height. This worked a little, but it was still a bit of a pain on both ends. Suddenly, you yelped in surprise as you felt your feet leave the ground. With his large hands gripping your waist, he effortlessly lifted you up and set you onto the counter. 

Yunho laughed, guiding your legs around his waist as he went to kiss you again. It was easier that time, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as you found a comfortable rhythm. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and you welcomed it, eagerly reciprocating his motions. You felt his hands drop from your waist down to your thighs, giving them a sudden squeeze. 

“God,” Yunho said, pulling back from the kiss and leaning into your ear. “You’d look so cute choking on my cock.” 

A chill ran down your spine. His sudden change in attitude stunned you, and you gasped as he sank his teeth into your neck, leaving a bruise just beneath your jaw. Your legs involuntarily tightened around him, pulling his hips closer, and he took it as an invitation to pull you against his crotch. He kissed you again, but harder this time, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment. The room was suddenly much too hot. 

You fisted your hands in his hair, tugging it with your fingers, and he groaned into your mouth, squeezing your ass hard. You could feel his cock getting hard as he grinded his hips against yours, any shred of his gentle demeanor from earlier having gone right out the window. How the hell was this the same cute guy from earlier? 

His fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric of your sweater up to your chest. He yanked down one side of your bra and leaned down, his warm breath fanning over your breast. You couldn’t help the moans that spilled from your lips as he swirled his tongue in circular motions, flicking and sucking at your nipple. You cried out as he bit down, but despite the pain, your panties were starting to feel damp. 

He moved to the other side, pulling your bra down to do the same to the other nipple. That time, though, he ran a hand up your leg until it came to rest on your pussy, thumb rubbing circles over your clit on top of your leggings. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, overwhelmed by both sensations at once. He pulled back, removing his hands for a moment to pull your shirt all the way off and roughly threw it to the floor. He practically ripped your bra off, clearly not having it anymore. You held yourself up with your hands, lifting your ass up off the counter so that Yunho could slide your leggings and panties off, dropping them on the floor with the rest of your clothes.  

“Fuck, you look so good,” he said against your lips, pushing your legs farther apart. “Wanted this from the moment I saw you.”

He left a trail of wet kisses down your neck, leaving bruises along your throat as he stopped to suck and bite at the skin. He continued licking down your chest and stomach, then settled down on his knees, moving your legs to rest on his shoulders. He licked along your inner thigh, teasingly slow, and he looked up at you with a smirk like he knew he was driving you crazy. 

You squirmed helplessly as he chomped down on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and it was clear he enjoyed dragging out this teasing as long as possible. 

“A-ah,” you said, half because of the pain, and finally, finally, he was dragging his tongue over the folds of your pussy. He gave his tongue a few swipes, then circled it around your clit, kissing and sucking on it with more intensity until he had you pushing your hips against his face for more. 

Just when you felt yourself starting to approach the brink of a climax, he pulled back, smiling devilishly. “Aw, sorry, did you want to cum?” 

You were too flabbergasted to speak, panting heavily as you looked down at his face between your legs. You were stuck somewhere between confused and angry, and still very horny. 

“You’re gonna have to earn it,” he said, punctuating the thought with a deceptively sweet peck. 

He grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up, and you scrambled to wrap your legs around him to keep from falling. He carried you to his room and tossed you into the bed, less than gentle about it, and quickly discarded his clothes. 

It was fairly dark in the room, with only the light from the hallway creeping in from the door, but you could clearly see the outline of his cock as it popped free from his boxers. You felt your jaw drop a little bit. Big? Fucking understatement. 

“Come here,” Yunho said, gesturing with his finger. “On your knees.”

You obeyed, and scooted off the bed and sank to your knees in front of him. You swallowed, feeling intimidated at the prospect of fitting all of that in your mouth. 

“Be a good girl for me and you’ll get to cum later, ok?” He looked down at you, his gaze dark. 

He cupped your chin in his hand, making you look up at him from your somewhat degrading position. You nodded, and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. 

You gave the tip of it a conservative lick, sucking lighty to test the waters. He made a noise in his throat, and you took it as encouragement to take more of it into your mouth. You opened wider, squeezing your eyes shut as you took in as much as you could without gagging. 

He only gave you a second to adjust before fisting his hand in your hair and shoving your head forward, making you gag as you took more than you could handle. You pulled back, gasping for air, but his hand was still tangled in your hair, forcing you back onto his cock. Your scalp stung as he moved your head back and forth, and you did your best not to choke as the tip hit the back of your throat again and again. 

“That’s good, baby,” he moaned. “Fuck, yeah, take it all.”

There were tears streaming down your face as you fought hard against your gag reflex, and you focused on breathing through your nose for air. Finally he let you go, and you pulled off, breathing hard, bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away the tears.

He brought both hands up to your face, caressing your hair and brushing his thumbs over your cheekbones, helping to wipe away the wetness. You were sure you looked wrecked, with swollen lips and mascara smeared to all hell across your face. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty. I wanna make you mine so bad.” Yunho guided you up, having you sit on the edge of the bed. He kneeled in front of you once again, and shoved your legs apart, forcing you to fall back clumsily onto the bed. 

He ate you out again, more hungrily this time, and you really hoped he planned on following through with his promise. He slid one of his long fingers into you, twisting and crooking it, making lewd wet sounds as he used it to fuck you. He slid it out, and dipped his tongue into your pussy, fucking you with his tongue as he used his thumb to play with your clit. He didn’t relent, going harder as he sensed you were getting close, and you couldn’t stop the way your hips instinctively bucked up onto his face as the pleasure overwhelmed your whole body. 

“F-fuck, Yunho!” you cried, hips twitching and arching up off the bed as you came. Your legs felt shaky, and you needed a second to take a breather, but Yunho was straddling you, trapping you with his body against the bed, bringing a hand up and squeezing it around your throat. He placed a finger up to your lips--the one that had been inside you--and pushed it into your mouth, running it along your tongue. You instinctively sealed your lips around it, meeting his lusty gaze as you sucked it clean. 

The way he was looking at you was kind of scary, eyes fixed on your lips and hand getting tighter around your throat. You coughed as breathing started to get difficult, and he let go of you, hopping off the bed. 

He grabbed both of your ankles and flipped you over, making you land breathlessly on your stomach. You could hear his footsteps as he walked somewhere in the room, then came the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and in a moment he was straddling you from behind, tearing open a condom and rolling it onto his cock. 

He grabbed your hips and roughly yanked you up, backing your ass into him and making you sit on all fours. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he gritted, digging his nails into your ass as he lined himself up with your pussy. With hardly any warning, he pushed his cock in, and the size of it nearly made you scream. Yunho groaned as it entered you, pushing until it was in all the way. You couldn’t help any of the sounds you were making, it was all too overwhelming in that moment. 

He started thrusting slowly at first, but the thrusts quickly grew faster and harder, pounding you so hard you could barely breathe. And then you really couldn’t breathe--his hand had come up and clenched over your throat, cutting off your screams. His other hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back with a choked cry. All concept of pain or pleasure sort of started to fade away, your vision going fuzzy and your ears ringing over the sound of him fucking you. 

For a second you thought you might actually pass out, but luckily he let go just in time. You gasped for air, hands fisting into the sheets. Yunho grabbed onto your hip bones with almost bruising force, digging his nails in as he came, spitting profanities as he gave one last hard thrust. 

You collapsed to the bed, limbs feeling totally useless. Your back was drenched in sweat--whose it was, you weren’t really sure--and you felt like you could probably sleep for ten years or so. Yunho left the room for a second, then came back with a towel. He ran it along your back and your legs, wiping up the sweat and whatever other body fluids were present, placing gentle kisses along your shoulder as he did so. 

He ran his hands through your hair, combing out the tangles, and it was soothing enough to push you over the edge of exhaustion into the realm of sleep. As you drifted off, you could feel Yunho wrap his arms around you, his warm skin pressing against yours underneath the blanket. Like a switch, he went back to being the sweet person you had met earlier at the lake. Like he hadn’t just done some kind of Jekyll and Hyde kind of shit. 

As you fell asleep, you could only vaguely form one coherent thought.

What the fuck just happened?

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley Chapter 2

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Everyone turned to see Midoriya standing on the stairs to the beach, looking down at them.  None of them, least of all Shouto, had ever seen that expression on his face before. That… flatness that almost rivaled his own.  

Uraraka took a step forward.  “Deku?” she asked, uncertainly.  Suzuki, the commission instructor, threw his arm in front of her, blocking her path.  

“Whatever that is,” he said, voice strained and low-pitched, “it isn’t Midoriya Izuku.  Saito’s quirk doesn’t allow for the subject to have an avatar in the dreamscape without a lot of practice.  There’s another quirk at work here.”

“You need to leave,” said Midoriya, descending a single step.  “Now.”

“It could be a result of his own quirk,” said Aizawa, who nonetheless had a hand on his capture weapon.  “He’s had odd reactions to mental quirks in the past.  Jumping to conclusions is illogical.”

“We have evidence Midoriya Izuku is working for the League of Villains,” said Suzuki, backing away from the stairs, slightly.  “By the rules laid out in the standard—”

Shouto tuned Suzuki out, by now quite convinced that the man had nothing particularly meaningful to say, in favor of examining Midoriya.  

It was Midoriya.  Just, a Midoriya that was annoyed, defensive, and maybe a little offended with just a touch of something else.  Which was a weird combination on Midoriya.  Especially as muted as it was. Midoriya’s expressions, no matter what they were, were always so big.  

“—I am recruiting you to aid this investigation and determine the League of Villain’s plans!”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll make you leave,” growled Midoriya.  

Wow, for someone who was the embodiment of sunshine, he could be really threatening.  Then again, sunburns were a thing, so maybe it wasn’t too surprising.  

“You’re here against my will, after coercing me into allowing a quirk to be used on me.  I want you out.”

“Eraserhead, I suggest you restrain this projection, whoever it belongs to.”

“I’m not going to warn you again,” continued Midoriya.

“I suggest,” said Aizawa, “that you listen to him.  We can ask Midoriya about this when we’re all awake and not in his head.  Like you should have done in the beginning.”

Midoriya tilted his head slightly to one side.  

“I agree!  This is very unethical,” said Iida, chopping at the air.  “This is basically an interrogation, and Midoriya is a minor! You need parental permission!”

“Which, before you start talking about him willingly participating in this course,” said Aizawa, “he has explicitly withdrawn. Not to mention his mother signed those opt-out forms, so her permission is withdrawn as well.”

“You can’t be serious—”

“I am,” said Aizawa.  “Take us out.  This whole thing is illogical.”

“I can’t,” said Suzuki.  “Saito is the only one who can shut down her quirk prematurely.”

“What?” said Uraraka.  “There’s no way for you to contact her in an emergency?  That’s really dangerous!”

“That’s not what Saito Yume said, either,” said Midoriya, flatly. “’The dream state persists until either I release it, the people involved break free, or eight hours pass.’ Implying that there’s another way to break free.  One that you, by necessity, must know.  So, leave. Or I’m going to start to defend myself.”

Suzuki took a deep breath.  “I am here,” he said, “to complete a mission given to me from the Hero Commission.  Your refusal to comply with the terms set out in your licensing agreements will be noted.”

Midoriya brought his head up straight again and squared his shoulders.  His hands clenched.  He was wearing gloves, Shouto noticed.  Not the gloves that went with his hero costume, but work gloves.  He’d seen the landscapers who worked at his family home wear something similar.  

Why?

“Fine,” said Izuku.  “Then I’m going to kick you out.”

“That’s impossible, you—”

“I know this beach very well.”

Abruptly, the pristine white sand was covered in towers of trash, separating Shouto from the others.  Suzuki’s insistence that Midoriya was a spy had already had him on edge.  This put him fully into battle-mode.  

He dropped into battle stance, and carefully froze one of the trash piles in front of him, making an icy stair to the top.  His first priority was to find Aizawa and his classmates and regroup.  To do that, he had to get a better vantage point.  

He jogged up the stairs, noting, absently, that he was now in his hero suit, not his school uniform.  What had he been wearing before this turned into a fight?  He hadn’t particularly noticed.  

He reached the top just in time to see Midoriya bludgeon Suzuki with a piece of rusty rebar.

Alright.  Maybe that wasn’t Midoriya.

.

Aizawa wasn’t fast enough getting around the piles of trash. He would have tried to scale them, but there was no safe place for him to grab on to.  The piles were simply too unstable, too untrustworthy, too poorly shaped.

He arrived just in time to see Midoriya, or what looked like Midoriya, impale Suzuki with a pole.  

Before his mind could fully process the problem child attempting what looked a whole lot like murder, he had him wrapped in his capture weapon.

Midoriya had the gall to look confused, if only slightly.

“Todoroki,” Aizawa barked, spotting his other student on top of one of the horribly dangerous trash mounds.  “First aid, stat.”

“Yes, sir,” said Todoroki, making an ice ramp to glide down.

“Midoriya,” he said.  “What was that?”  Perhaps it was illogical to ask, but he still couldn’t quite believe his eyes.  

“I was testing to see if he’d wake up and go away if he got knocked out,” said Midoriya.  He made a tiny, not-quite-shrugging motion.  “This is just a dream, after all.”

Alright.  That was true, but it was still incredibly disconcerting to see Midoriya act so callously towards the life of another human being.  Although he was unsure how many times Midoriya had hit Suzuki, and certain places of impact were less lethal than others, blunt force trauma, especially to the back of the head, could still be deadly.  

There was the sharp report of a gun, and Midoriya jerked forward, blood leaking from some invisible wound to drip down his face. Then he vanished.  

He turned towards that utter bastard Suzuki, eyes blazing, only to find him entirely encased in a glacier except for his head.

While Aizawa had been trying to train Todoroki out of reflexively encasing human beings in ice, due to frostbite, hypothermia, and other potential health issues, he was willing to let it slide.  Just this once.  

“I told you,” said Suzuki, teeth chattering.  “That isn’t your student.  And even if it was, he’s a traitor.”

“Sensei,” said Todoroki, “what are we going to do?”

“First,” said Aizawa.  He didn’t get beyond that, because Uraraka was abruptly launched from behind a wall of trash, trailing a makeshift tether of salvaged bungee cords.

“Found them!” exclaimed Uraraka.  “I don’t see Deku, though!”

“First,” said Aizawa, feeling exhausted despite technically being asleep, “we regroup.”

.

Toshinori was supposed to be teaching a third-year heroics course.

He wanted to be with Izuku at the Hero Commission training, even if he was retired, with only a retiree license to his name.  

He was in the nurse’s office, getting his brain checked by Recovery Girl, because sudden debilitating headaches weren’t on the long, long list of symptoms he’d come to expect from his injuries and medications.

Chiyo was worried he might be having a stroke, an aneurism, or some other sudden, lethal, brain condition.  She’d used her quirk on him at once, and the pain hadn’t stopped. She’d said that, at least, it should stop an aneurism from getting worse.  

Toshinori hoped it wasn’t brain cancer.  As far as personal abilities went, all he had going for him right now was brainpower and a stupidly high pain tolerance.

He closed his eyes against the bright lights of the room. Everything seemed too bright and blurry.  Sounds warped oddly in his ears.  The fabric of the bed underneath him felt gritty against his fingertips.  

It was like he wasn’t entirely here.  

Oh, the joys of hallucinations.

(Something like urgency pushed against the back of his mind. Whispered Eight, and help, and Nine.)

(Something was going more wrong than usual.)

He waited for Chiyo to step out of the room before he snuck out.

.

Izuku emerged from sleep with a choked gasp, heart racing, head spinning.  Where-?

It took him several fraught minutes to get his breathing under control and recognize where he was.  The room for the Hero Commission course.  His classmates and teacher were sleeping next to him, as well as the commission instructor.  What had his name been?  Something with an S?

Thinking was hard.  It was like his brain was occupied with something else and he kept having to nudge it back on track.  It was like—

He shook his head, which pounded with the movement, distracting him further.  He—He should—

What?

An odd sensation overtook him, and he found himself slowly, cautiously standing up.  It wasn’t like Shinsou’s quirk, where his body was out of his control, but more like he was almost sharing control, somehow.  Like he could, at any point, take control back.  And he did, just to test the theory, stopping for a moment, his hand halfway to his backpack.  

But that was hard, and he really wasn’t up for much in the way of decision-making, and the others were quite adamant that he had to get out now.  They’d know.  He trusted them.  

They picked up the backpack.  

Eight was coming.  They could trust Eight.  

The door slammed open.  Izuku froze.  Several heroes in costume and a man with a suit and a commission nametag stood in the doorway.  

“Get him!”

Four moved so differently from Izuku.  Precisely, like he knew exactly how his opponents were going to act, where they were going to be.  It reminded Izuku of how Sir Nighteye moved.  

In seconds, they were in the main hall, sprinting past crowds with the help of One for All.  Izuku felt bad about leaving Aizawa and his friends, but they knew, they weren’t targets. Izuku was.  

Izuku didn’t know how they knew that, how he knew that.  

Parking lot.  Streets. Alleyway.  Rooftops.  His UA uniform was too attention grabbing.  They dropped his blazer behind one of the rooftop ventilation shafts and tugged off his tie.  The button down by itself was less attention grabbing.  There was nothing they could to about his pants.  Alley again.  The people chasing him could track his phone.  They needed to get rid of it.  

Preferably in a way that wouldn’t immediately tip their pursuers off to the fact they had gotten rid of it.  Sending them the wrong way would be a good distraction, would buy them time.  

They slipped onto a bus and dropped Izuku’s phone into a woman’s purse.  Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice the change in weight for a while.  

Six and Two were very good at this kind of thing.  Not to mention One.  

It would probably sound weird to an outsider, but it was comforting.  The experience and care of the past users wrapped around him like a thick blanket, making it so that Izuku didn’t mind so much about his distraction, even though he wished he could help more.  

He got off the bus.  They needed to find Eight.

.

“Just so you know,” said Aizawa, several registers shy of conversationally.  “If you’ve harmed my student in any way, I will do everything in my power to make your life a living hell.”

“Nothing here actually affects the mind of the subject,” said Suzuki, rolling his eyes.  “Otherwise, we wouldn’t use Saito’s quirk.”

“Your information hasn’t exactly been accurate so far,” said Tenya, pushing his glasses up and frowning.  Suzuki had, in fact, been fundamentally unhelpful.  “In fact, I believe you have outright lied to us on several occasions.”  He glanced at his classmates for support and did a double take.  

Standing behind Uraraka, half-hidden behind a beaten-up old refrigerator, was Midoriya.  A smaller, slimmer, younger Midoriya, who was wearing an ‘ALL M’ t-shirt, thick gloves, and… and an awfully large amount of rope?

He was also crying, silently, and staring at Suzuki.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said.  He pulled on the rope.  The refrigerator came free, destabilizing the pile of trash it had been supporting.

It all came tumbling down.  

.

Ochako managed to avoid most of the debris coming for her, and slapped most of the remainder, making them float with her quirk.  Even so, by the time the dust settled, she was covered in scrapes, the pink fabric of her hero suit torn—

Wait.  Hero suit?

Whatever, she was asleep, and the more important thing was to find Iida, Todoroki, and Aizawa-sensei.  They had been in the direct line of the collapse.  She was pretty sure Deku had been able to get out of the way.

“Shouldn’t have done that.”

“Five-point touch activation.  Seems to affect buoyancy of objects.  Possible martial arts background based on movement.”

Ochako spun to face not one, but two small Dekus. The new one was, if possible, even smaller than the first and wearing a gakuran.  He had a notebook spread out across his left arm and was writing in it at lightning speed.  

“Hands are a possible weak spot, but a known one.  Be careful of kicks.”  Gakuran Deku’s words devolved into mumbling, but t-shirt Deku was still nodding, so he must understand.  

T-shirt Deku also had a length of pipe.  Ochako did not like where this was going.  

Then again, the whole point of this exercise was to learn how to defend one’s mind.  She couldn’t exactly fault Deku for doing just that.  She dropped into a fighting stance and grinned.  

.

It was nothing short of a miracle, Aizawa decided, that they hadn’t been killed yet. Then again, it was possible that Midoriya, despite his obviously altered and disturbed mental state, was still holding back against them.  

Which was annoying.  Because neither of the two small Midoriya-lookalikes was particularly strong.  Nor did they appear to be using Midoriya’s quirk, despite the fact that Aizawa, Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki had no trouble using theirs.  The problem was that they were terrifyingly intelligent, just shy of ruthless, and had an incredible home-field advantage in that they seemed to know the location and nature of every bit of trash on the beach and in that they could evidently make it disappear and reappear at will.  They also avoided head-on combat whenever possible, letting the terrain do their work for them.  

Fighting them was, in fact, like fighting someone with a quirk completely unlike Midoriya’s.  With a fighting style completely unlike Midoriya’s.

And that made Aizawa wonder, because all too often, he caught Midoriya trying to replicate All Might’s style, and if he did that when he could be doing something more like this—

But this wasn’t the time for such speculation.  

He pulled Todoroki away from a trap again (he evidently hadn’t yet grasped that Midoriya was attacking them), and then jumped away from a chain reaction caused by whatever Uraraka just threw.  

Unless they wanted to spend the next hour being beaten up by the problem child… “We need to get somewhere he has less control over the environment.”

“Off the beach?” suggested Uraraka, panting.  “He said—He said he knew the beach well, so…”

Aizawa nodded.  That was good thinking.  Where were the stairs?

“You need to leave!”  

“We’re trying, problem child!” snapped Aizawa, and, miraculously, that made Midoriya hesitate.  Aizawa pulled Todoroki towards the stairs.   The others were able to follow on their own.  

They made their way up, and as soon as they hit the top step the previously clear sky opened up and it began to pour.  Aizawa was soaked through in seconds.  

Wonderful.  

However, the attacks—which had been relentless up until this point—stopped.

“We left Suzuki,” observed Iida.  

Aizawa held back a groan.  

“Who cares?” asked Todoroki.  

“We do,” said Aizawa.  “We can’t let him run around unsupervised in Midoriya’s head.”

“I think he might have gotten crushed,” said Uraraka.  “He was still in your ice, wasn’t he, Todoroki?”

“Yeah,” said Todoroki.  “Trash should stay with trash,” he mumbled under his breath.  

“We have no idea how any of our quirks will function long-term in a dream,” said Aizawa, not addressing the trash comment because he honestly sort of agreed.  “Nor do we know what his quirk is.”  He sighed. “We may also have to consider that he is correct and Midoriya is compromised.”

Predictably, there was quite a bit of protest.  

“He may also have other information regarding the situation at hand,” said Aizawa.  “Which we need.”

There was a rattle among the trash heaps, and Aizawa turned to watch Suzuki drag himself out from under a mound of trash.  

“You left me!” accused Suzuki, loudly.  “You almost let that gremlin kill me a dozen times!”

“Well,” said Midoriya from behind them, where he absolutely hadn’t been a minute ago, “then maybe you should have left when I asked."

[too-scared-to-do-this]

For the writing thing, maybe platonic logince just being soft? One of them perhaps infodumping about something they're passionate about? No pressure of course <3

Sorry for the wait, anon, but here I am!

I hope this is at least somewhat similar to what you expected ^^

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

Fascinating thing

Wordcount: 1048

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

Hah… when did it get dark?

Logan didn’t even notice the moment the sun had sat. He was so caught up in his work, that now that he thinks of it, he didn’t even notice the day go by. And -

His stomach growled loudly.

Yes. Precisely. He should go get something to eat.

Laptop shut, the chair screeched against the wooden floor of the room. He was just about to stand up when a quiet melodic knock came from the door.

Only one of the sides knocked like that - a melody from… Frozen, if he wasn’t mistaken. (Which he wasn’t. He is Logic, after all.)

Roman.

Pushing the chair back into its place he called out. “Enter.”

The door creaked open and a smile-infused voice drifted over to his ears. “Hi, speks.”

“Roman.” he nodded at the side.

“I noticed you missing during diner, so I brought you some.” Roman showed him the full plate he was holding. Obviously, that was his main motive - looking out for a friend. But not the only one. You see, roman was kind of bored. Everybody was of somewhere doing Zeus-knows what, and he just wasn’t in the mood for creating.

“Thank you. That is very considerate of you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Roman chuckled, setting the plate onto the logical side’s table. Come to think of it, in all his years of existence, he could literally count the number of times he’s been in this room on one hand.

It was a pretty small room. With only the most necessary things - a wardrobe a desk, a desk-lamp a bedside-table and a bed. The only thing even remotely decorative were the galaxies painted on the dark-blue ceiling. Roman wouldn’t be able to survive like this. But he thought it fit the side’s aesthetic.

He plopped down onto the bed and just kept on looking around.

All the while, Logan once again pulled out his chair and sat down, slowly starting on his meal. “Is there anything else you would like my help with?”

“Ah, not really. I just came to talk, kinda.” the prince shrugged. “We don’t talk that much.”

“I see.” logic said after the first bide. “What would you like to talk about.”

A thoughtful look seated itself on Roman’s face. But only for a second. “You already know the things I like. But I have no idea what you are interested in. So tell me about something you like.”

Ro knew the logical side wouldn’t answer before swallowing - proper eticket and all. And so, he waited.

Logan’s head tilted to the side. “Well, I like astrology.”

“Stars! I like stars too! Okay, tell me about stars!”

“Actually, astrology is not only about stars. But I suppose it is enough for the beginning. My favorite is Betelgeuse, because it has the widest range displayed by any first-magnitude star - varying between +0.0 and +1.6. A distinctly reddish semiregular variable star. Usually the tenth-brightest in the night sky and, the second-brightest in the constellation of Orion, right after Rigel. Its Bayer designation is α Orionis, Latinised to Alpha Orionis and abbreviated Alpha Ori or α Ori. It is classified as a red supergiant of spectral type M1-2. Betelgeuse is actually one of the largest stars visible to the naked eye. If it were at the center of our Solar System, its surface would lie beyond the asteroid belt and it would engulf the orbits of Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, and possibly even Jupiter. Nevertheless, there are several larger red supergiants in the Milky Way, including Mu Cephei and the peculiar supergiant, VY Canis Majoris - but Betelgeuse is my favorite. Did you k-“ Logan stopped midsentence.

He forgot his rule. Talk for two minutes then check whether the other is still interested.

The smile he didn’t eve n realize he was wearing, fell. Roman looked completely distant, a thoughtful look on his face. He was probably somewhere of in his head, day - well night - dreaming about more interesting things. Like adventures and dragon-witches and whatever else logic defying things the creative side could come up with.

“I’m boring you.” he stated matter of fact-ly. Emotion wasn’t his thing before and it wasn’t going to be now.

Roman literally had to shake his head to get himself out of the daze he was. “No, no! You’re not! It’s not that at all!”

It wasn’t that he wasn’t listening - well technically yes, but not for the reasons Logan would think. It was actually pretty interesting. Betel- yeah, that star was pretty rad. He actually liked listening to the nerd rant. It was just that… “It’s just… what exactly is a Bayer designation?”

Logan blinked. “I think you are just being nice. It really would not be a problem if you were not interested. Astrology can be boring to some.”

“Logan. What is a Bayer designation?”

“A Bayer designation is a stellar designation in which a specific star is identified by a Greek or Latin letter followed by the genitive form of its parent constellation's Latin name.”

“Now that makes so much more sense! It’s embarrassing, but I got stuck trying to figure out what that meant. That’s why I wasn’t listening. But now I am. Now you can continue. Betel- Betelghost-“

“Betelgeuse”

“Yes, thank you. It’s a hard name. Betelgeuse is surprisingly really fascinating.” Roman smiled, crossing his legs on the bed. Getting more comfortable. “Continue on, noble nerd.”

Logan actually smiled a little at that. Not something Ro has seen a lot of.

And just like that, the logical side was in full swing again, talking miles a minute about his favorite star. Food already forgotten.

Roman actually had to remind him to eat after half an hour of constant monologue interrupted only by some smaller questions for clarification or actual interest about a certain topic.

That night Roman left the Logical side’s room full of ideas about how he’ll turn a part of the Imagination into a giant 3D planetarium where Logan could come and look at his stars. And maybe even say a few more interesting things about this astrology stuff. That wouldn’t be bad at all.

The prince had a lot of planning to do. And he was so excited.

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

I literally just googled Stars and chose one with a weird enough name XD And then Wikipedia because I know nothing about astrology, even though I find the subject beyond interesting!

So... I hope it’s good enough XD

Thank you for the ask, dear anon! It was really fun to write this! <3

[smallfrost]

Motherland: Fort Salem. Musical analysis for Raelle and Scylla

It is no secret (unless you did not know that the Original Score for MFS exists and if you didn’t, it does and you should go listen immediately) that there is a track named Raelle & Scylla on the score. If you didn’t know that, then this is more interesting. More below the cut - in case you don’t care or don’t want to be spoiled.

The track “Raelle & Scylla” is the music that plays when Raelle and Scylla take Salva for the first time in the Pilot.

Still not over the cinematography here

In the majority of the Raelle and Scylla scenes that follow (typically ones that are Scylla emotionally conveying a message) this musical theme always plays. It is not exactly the same as the first time, but very clearly the same notes are played.

We hear it in Episode 2, when they are walking in the graveyard

You sexy weirdos

Episode 3 in Memorial Hall, when Scylla tells Raelle about her parents (for real)

Just hug her already, Raelle

Twice in Episode 4. First after Raelle leaves the infirmary and Scylla is relieved she is okay.

Fuck fuck fuck I fucked up = Scylla in this moment

Second after Beltane when Scylla admits she has feelings for Raelle.

They’re the same height but let’s just play smol and tol here for a sec

And in Episode 5, when Scylla gives Raelle her gift

Sexy Weird Palm DMs are the new snapchat

That’s this season SO FAR. But there’s more:

While everyone has probably guessed that next week during Salva training Raelle is going to be filled with grief over Scylla being missing, we can confirm this by turning to the Original Score. The track “Missing Salva” starts with this same thematic music, so for sure we will hear this theme at least once in Episode 6 and it will represent the heartbreak Raelle is feeling from Scylla [potentially] having been “killed”. When I first listened to the score after episode 1, this gave me chills that they so seamlessly conveyed this message with music.

Also in the score (MAJOR SPOILER) is a track called Scylla Revealed. While we probably all guessed this would happen eventually and the majority of this track is the sound of the Spree, the last few seconds are… Raelle & Scylla’s musical theme. Again, I got actual chills when I first heard this 4 weeks ago, knowing nothing about what was going to happen. Because of this, I’m guessing Raelle will witness either Scylla revealing herself with fire or her carrying out some sort of Spree order (I would love the former) as opposed to being told by Tally or Anacostia. 

I’m so excited about the depth of this show and the little details they put in. I’m going to keep track of every scene where I hear this theme and I’m guessing it will reveal some foreshadowing in hindsight after the end of the season.

---

EDIT:  An update following Episode 6, Up is Down

As predicted we were gifted with the beauty of “Missing Salva” this episode but this was not the only time we heard Raelle and Scylla’s Musical theme this week. In fact, we heard it three times - what appears to be a record for number of appearances in an episode.

The first time we hear it is during Salva training on base. This is actually the original Raelle & Scylla track from the original score but slightly more raw towards the beginning

*Sings* So you think you can flyyyyy

The second is extremely subtle but the theme plays when Scylla contacts Raelle, interlaced with music that conveys hope

The only time giving your S.O. a rash is sexy and appreciated

And finally, the third time is our “Missing Salva” track. Beautiful, heartbreaking, chill giving. But also; drugs are never the answer, kids. Remember, you are important, you are beautiful, don’t push away the ones who love you. They will be your wings to help you soar.

Yep, right there. That’s the spot

Until next week...

--

EDIT:  An update following Episode 7, Mother Mycelium

Is everyone okay after this episode? I’m pretty sure I’m still dead (no captions for these, they all caused to much pain). Another beautiful and heart breaking week - let’s go over our theme moments. This week brought us the next big track containing the theme: Scylla Revealed. Like last week, we get to hear the Theme three times even though our girls are apart; further solidifying their connection.

The first time the tune graces our ears is when Raelle is looking up at Scylla’s room. Everywhere she looks she sees (and hears) Scylla. This version is slow and depressing and makes it seem like Raelle is really starting to believe Scylla might actually be dead.

The second is during their reunion in the dungeon when Raelle finally says, “I love you”

And the third, as expected, comprised the ending of Scylla Revealed

Seeing Raelle made Scylla’s mind vulnerable and cracked her open (like an egg). All Scylla can think about now is Raelle, even after she has just been forced to reveal her most terrible secrets about herself. This pain we see here is not that Scylla’s mind betrayed the Spree, it’s that she lost Raelle in the process.

This is the last score track that contains Raylla’s theme. Perhaps we will hear Scylla Revealed again when Raelle discovers the truth? But I can guarantee this isn’t the last time we’ll hear our tune.

--

EDIT - An update following Episode 8, Citydrop

Raelle is reeling after discovering both that Scylla is alive but also may be a member of the Spree and it shows in their music this episode. After rewatching, I only detected their theme once, and barely. When Raelle is remembering their reunion, the theme is ever so subtly hinted at. In fact, I would argue it doesn’t even get the chance to be fully realized. 

I really think this is the only time we even remotely hear it in this episode. And even here it is not obvious at all, and I think is indicating the emergence of Raelle’s doubts about how much she truly knows about Scylla. We know by the end of the episode Raelle is really beginning to question what is real and what isn’t. But we will definitely get it again in Episode 9 as more truths and feelings are revealed. 

--

EDIT:  An update following Episode 9, Coup

The pain is real this episode and we hear Raelle and Scylla’s theme three times, though technically two of these three are in the same scene. Specifically, when Raelle goes to see Scylla one last time in the dungeon, their theme book-ends their reunion but in two different tones.

At first, it is soft but laced with sadness. Reflecting the pain of Raelle and the sadness of Scylla for realizing Raelle may be lost to her.

But at the end, it becomes harsher and more dissonant as Scylla pleads for Raelle to know her love is real. That she chose her over everything else. They are both raw, just like their music. 

And the third time is by their tree, when Raelle admits that she is still in love with Scylla. Here is it deeper and resonates. And it lifts up just as Anacostia tells Raelle Scylla’s love is real. Just a bit at the end but just like in the first scene when their feet leave the ground after taking Salva. It’s laced with hope and Anacostia’s words fill Raelle’s heart with hope. 

One more episode left....

--

EDIT:  An update following Episode 10, Witchbomb 

HOLY. SHIT. Well that was an epic finale. So much happened. With Raelle and the unit being immediately deployed, and Scylla still in the Dungeon, there was no time for goodbyes for our Necro and Healer. To be honest, I was really nervous that Raelle & Scylla’s theme was completely absent from the finale. But our faith can be renewed because Raylla’s theme does indeed make a small appearance making it 10/10 episode wise this season. 

Now when Raelle pleads with Anacostia to have the military go easy on Scylla,  that she’s not all bad - I listened to that scene so many times, side by side with others and I can’t confidently say that the Raylla theme was used in any capacity. That being said, I also can’t say that it isn’t there in the bare minimum. I’m pretty sure most of the music in the scene with Anacostia, Raelle, and Tally is more closely related to the Blue Rose Friendship theme but it is possible the Raylla theme is interlaced ever so slightly while Raelle is talking to Anacostia about Scylla... but I’m not calling it completely due to lack of confidence. 

Where I am more confident in the appearance of the theme is when Anacostia sets Scylla free and tells her to hold on to the part of her that’s good. The music is bare bones minimal and only during this exact moment. It’s just the core notes that drive the theme home but they are stripped and bare and it makes complete sense because Scylla has lost so much, perhaps even lost Raelle, but what she does have left is the goodness that Raelle instilled in her. And she still has her love for Raelle. 

So Raelle and Scylla may be in limbo relationship wise, but the love is real and the part of Scylla that’s good is Raelle. otp: No matter what happens.

Until next season...