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wittlesissyb4by · 5 months ago

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Chapter 3 - The Study Group

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“I…I’m just really nervous.” Jack stammered, dipping his head and rubbing his face as he does any time he’s anxious.

Marianne used a finger to lift her husband’s chin, looking into his eyes. “I know,” she said, trying to feign confidence, “I am too.”

She gave him a once over, sliding her hands along his shirt that was far too short to cover his belly, straightening it out and picking off any stray lint.

Jack kept tugging the shirt down. “Can’t I at least wear shorts?” He whimpered.

Marianne just shrugged, curling her fingers into the waistband of his diaper, gripping and pulling upward so it forced his legs a bit wider. “I don’t really see the point,” she said, tucking the flared edges back into his thighs like she’d been taught, apparently it helps prevent leaks, “they already know you’ll be wearing one, and they’re going to see it eventually. No reason to delay the inevitable.”

He blushed, knowing she was right, but that didn’t keep him from trembling.

“Hey,” she said, bringing her hand back to his cheek, “you wanted this, remember? There’s no backing out now.”

That seemed to settle him. He nodded and plopped his hands down to his sides for maybe the hundredth time. Marianne combed him over once more, she found herself uneasy too. There was no reason to be, they were all probably used to it, but Jack was still a reflection of her, and Marianne wanted to show that she was competent in diapering her husband.

Still, she couldn’t help but gawk at how adorable he looked, like an innocent little one rubbing their eyes and face, tugging on their shirt, and crinkling in their little diaper. She was certainly starting to see the appeal to this whole thing, even if she originally didn’t think it would be her cup of tea when he first presented it to her.

“What time are they getting here?” Jack asked, still a bit flustered.

Marianne leaned in close for a kiss, which he returned. When they released, she smiled, “they’re already here!”

******

The girls were giddy with excitement when Marianne came back into the living room. They’d been sitting around the couch, chairs, and tables. Notebooks and laptops open, pencils scratching, keys tapping. The sound of Marianne’s footsteps caused them all to stop collectively and look up from their studying.

“Ladies…” Marianne cleared her throat, voice shaking nervously but trying to feign confidence, “meet…Jack!”

A round of applause broke out, but nothing (and no one) came from the hallway. At least, not for a few seconds. Finally, once the cheers died down, Jack came simpering into the room, hands relentlessly trying to tug down his shirt, only for it to spring back up and further expose the puffy pamper between his legs. “Oh my godd!!” Someone squealed, stomping their feet in hilarity.

“Awww!! Look at his wittle pampurrs!!”

“Soo cuuute!!”

“Cute? More like ‘pathetic’!!”

The raucous laughter went on for what felt like several minutes. Even Marianne couldn’t help but smile to herself. Though the girls were probably embellishing, it was nice to see them so excited about seeing her husband in diapers. It was validating.

“Turn around!”

“Give us a little spin!”

“Yea! Show us your diaper butt!”

“Don’t worry about that shirt, it’s not hiding anything. Trust us!”

“Bend over!”

“That’s it! Smack that ass!”

Jack was whimpering over the dull thud of his hand smacking the seat of his diaper.

“Come here,” Claire said, snapping her fingers and pointing to the ground in front of her, the same carpet she herself used to crawl on when her Mom brought her over as a toddler, “let’s check your diaper.”

Marianne had never seen her husband move so fast. He was trembling all over, but his eyes had this sort of glazy effect to them, like he was in a different world, a different space. He dropped to his knees in front of the beautiful blonde college girl.

“Make him tell us if he’s wet!” Trinity suggested.

“Do you do that?” Brooke beckoned, “I always like to guess when I think they’re doing it. The way they try to keep their face from scrunching is so cute!”

“I just check them constantly,” said Valencia, “They get so huffy and puffy when I'm making them spread their legs so I can pinch their pamper every 5 minutes. It almost makes them force it out faster so they don’t have to keep getting all worked up inside of their clitty cage!”

“I like my methods, thank you very much!” Claire giggled. She closed her spiral notebook and set it to the side, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leaned forward to the quivering Jack. “How’s your diaper?” She asked, smacking her gum. “Are you wet?”

Before Jack could form any words that weren’t just stammering baby babble, Claire already had her hand on his diaper. “Hmm…hard to tell…” she said to the room, “What do you think girls? Can you check him?”

Marianne had given them permission to touch Jack and his diaper, as long as they didn’t go in and touch his penis. She wasn’t quite comfortable with that.

Jack mewed as he went down the line, waddling side to side on his knees so each girl could pinch and squish and poke and prod him. “Hmm…he doesn’t feel wet…but I do feel something small and stiff!” Valencia giggled, tapping him on the hips. “Turn around! Let’s check for poop!”

Jack’s cheeks flushed red as Val used a finger to peel back the waistband of his diaper and peek inside. “Hmm, nope! No poo poo’s…yet! Maybe the little guy’s backed up! What were the 4 P’s for easing constipation again, girls?”

“Prunes!”

“Pears!”

“Peaches! And…” Savannah flipped through her notes.

“Plums.” Marianne finished, she’d been studying hard the past few days. “I have all of them in the pantry!”

******

“Open wide!!”

“Heeerre comesss the airpwannnne!!!”

“And the Choo-choo train!!”

“Gotta put the car in the garage!! Vroom vroom!!”

Spoonfuls of mush were coming from so many directions that Jack could hardly keep up. Actually, he couldn’t keep up at all. Sweet slop ran down the sides of his stuffed mouth, down his chin, and onto the bib that someone took the liberty of bringing for him.

“Open! Open!” Savannah encouraged, but didn’t even wait for him to swallow before shoveling another spoonful into his already full mouth. Jack tried to close his lips around it, but some ended up getting pushed out from being over capacity. Savannah deftly caught what dripped down his drooly chin, and brought it back up for a second attempt.

Jack’s stomach was groaning from the onslaught. The pureed ‘P’s’ were slishing and sloshing, making it full almost to the point of bursting, and the jars still had plenty of food left in them. Did Marianne know she bought such big containers? Maybe she didn’t intend them to all be used at once, but she sure wasn’t doing anything to stop them. In fact, she almost encouraged it.

“I’ve been trying to get him to eat healthier,” Marianne laughed, “guess I just need to invite pretty girls over in order to get him to eat his fruit and veggies!!”

Jack wriggled helplessly in his high chair. The same one he’d built for himself just a few weeks prior. Marianne didn’t understand why he wanted to add restraints to it until this very moment. The way he was tugging them and whining with all that mush in his mouth made it quite necessary. She couldn’t tell if he was struggling just for show, or if he genuinely was in turmoil, but he didn’t use the safeword, so Marianne assumed all was well one way or another. She had to admit, he did look pretty adorable squirming around in that chair covered in mush. His white shirt was no longer plain.

“Hold still, little one!” Claire cooed, holding his head still from behind the chair while the girls forced even more spoonfuls into his mouth. “It’ll help you feel better! Help get your poo poo’s out!”

When they’d finally exhausted all four jam-sized jars of food and the girls cheered “alll gone!!” Jack was leaning back in his chair, mouth agape, groaning over his bloated belly. Trinity used the bib to mop up his face, Brooke and Savannah removed the restraints from his wrists and ankles, and Val lifted the tabletop.

“Uh oh, girls!” Claire exclaimed, hand between Jack’s legs. “Feels like we’ve got a wet diaper!!”

******

Jack sat on the floor in his pissy pamper while the girls went over the different types of enemas.

“Sodium Phosphate, Glycerin, Bisacodyl, Mineral Oil and…” Savannah snapped her fingers over and over, searching for the words, “…and…and…”

“It’s easier than you think,” Val said over her notes, checking off Savannah’s answers.

“Oh! Tap water!” Savannah exclaimed, smacking her head in her own stupidity.

“Which one do you use to stimulate colon contractions?”

“Bisacodyl!” She replied immediately with a satisfied smile, “Easy.”

They continued to go through their notes, making sure to cover everything with detail and then some before moving on to a new topic.

Jack pretended to play with the little blocks and stuffed animals they gave him. It was demeaning and humiliating, but he decided it was better than protesting. He didn’t want to cause a scene or put Marianne in a precarious position where she would be forced to reprimand him, or worse, become too overwhelmed and embarrass herself in front of her peers. He’d asked for all of this, he could deal with it. His diaper was still warm from the piss he added to it a half hour ago. It squished as he shifted, but so did something else. His stomach was churning, doing backflips and giving that noticeable heavy grumble. He thought about asking Marianne if he could excuse himself to the restroom, but she seemed so busy and stressed going through her studies. When he tried to leave the room earlier so they could have their time to study in peace, the girls immediately asked “Where are you going?” and plopped him right back down on the floor where they could “keep an eye on him.” He was stuck in here.

He glanced from side to side, the girls were going over the active ingredients in different suppositories, not paying much attention to him at all. Now was as good of a time as ever. As quietly as he could, he clambered around onto his hands and knees, his heavy diaper drooping between his legs. This wasn’t the first time he’d crawled since they’d been around, (they made him do several laps proclaiming he was a pamper pisser earlier) so they didn’t seem to notice when he slowly crawled over into the corner.

He just wanted a bit of privacy. It would be weird doing it in front of them. He thought one last time about asking Marianne if he could use the bathroom, but she was so busy with the girls he didn’t want to interrupt, especially to tell them what he needed to do. Plus, he was pretty sure he knew what their answer would be. So, instead, he brought his legs up into a crouch, squatting in the corner and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

“Watcha doin’ over there?” Trinity’s voice called.

Jack immediately flushed red.

“Oh! I know that look!”

“Awww!! Is somewon twying to make a pushy??”

“Oh my god! He is!!”

“He’s doing the good ‘ole ‘squatty potty’!!!”

“I love how they think they can get away with it…pooping in the corner like a little tottler.”

Marianne didn’t say anything, just smiled sheepishly at her husband’s antics. She’d never seen her husband so embarrassed before.

“Get out from over there!” Claire called, snapping her fingers and pointing back at the rug in the center of the room. “If you need to do your business, you will do it right here where we can all see you!”

Jack looked to Marianne for help, his face stricken with horror, but she simply gave a curt nod, the edges of her lips curling upwards. This is what he asked for, she told herself.

His bottom lip started to quiver, but he tucked it underneath his teeth as he made his way back to the center of the room in front of the gaggle of girls. Jack could feel every set of eyes on him while he crouched in his diaper. It was so wet and plump that it practically reached the floor. The girls giggled and smiled, some covering their grins with their hands so as not to be “rude”.

“Go on Jack Jack!” Val said, taking charge.

“Yea!” The other girls said, joining in now.

“Poop your pampers!”

“Make a pushy!”

“Go on, diaper dumper! Let’s see what you got!”

Jack clamped his eyes shut, hoping to block out all the sights and sounds, but it was futile, their incessant cackling reverberated around the room.

There was only one thing he could do at this point, he had to get it over with.

“Oh look! His face is turning red! I think he’s doing it!”

Jack’s face was already red long before from the embarrassment of it all, but now that he was pushing, the veins were popping from his head. He couldn’t hold back a grunt as his muscles clenched, then relaxed. The warmth caught him off guard, he was used to expelling the waste and it dropping through the air and into the water below. Now, it didn’t drop far at all, it just pressed back into him as the mush spread through the inside of his padding. Somehow, the girls noticed, either from the smell, or the much saggier bulge of his diaper.

“Uh oh!! I think somewon has poo poo’s!!”

“Let’s check him!!”

“Not yet, he’s still going! Let’s let the wittle baby finish his business!”

Jack begrudgingly harrumphed and pushed out the remainder of his excrement. He tried to avoid their giggling gazes, but the eyes boring into him were tangible. Finally, he finished, but he didn’t know what he needed to do to convey the message.

Thankfully, Marianne stepped in: “All done?” She asked, as if being married to him all this time gave her experience on his bowel movements.

Jack nodded, still unable to drain the color in his cheeks. Marianne could see he had the strangest mixture of embarrassment, discomfort, and arousal. She found that more than a bit intriguing, not the act of defecating himself, but the fact that he was willing to utterly humiliate himself by doing it in front of all of these attractive people. Had he no shame? Or did he just revel in it? Either way, she found it fascinating.

“Tell us what you did.” Val said, a sadistic grin on her face. “Tell us what you did in your diaper.”

Jack looked side to side for help, but none came, not even from Marianne, who just gave him a curt nod, lips curling into a smile.

“I…” Jack squeaked in the tiniest of voices, he was so humiliated he brought his hands to his face, rubbing his cheeks and squirming like an embarrassed toddler. “I went poo poo’s…”

“Louder!” Trinity commanded.

His bottom lip quivered, his eyes got a little misty. “I went poo poo’s!!”

“Where?”

“In…in my diaper…”

“We can’t hear you!”

“I WENT POO POO’S IN MY DIAPER!!” he shouted.

The girls continued making him humiliate himself. Forcing him to say it like a baby. To turn around and wiggle his droopy diaper for them. To stand up and swish his hips from side to side, causing the load to swing like a wrecking ball.

“Should we…” Savannah started, “should we make him…?”

All the girls seemed to know exactly what she meant, all except Marianne, so Claire leaned over and whispered in her ear.

Marianne’s eyes widened a bit, but she didn’t shake her head. She seemed to be weighing options, keeping her eyes on Jack, considering his well-being. Finally, she shrugged and gave a nod in the affirmative.

The girls collectively giggled and clapped.

“Okay loser,” Val said, taking the lead, “Tell us: do you like your dirty diaper?”

Jack shrugged, eyes continuing to dart back and forth searching for help as to what to say. His mouth hung agape, but he didn’t seem to notice, drool leaking down his lips, he was so deep in little space.

“Y-yes…” he said in a voice way too high-pitched for his age.

“Say it.”

He hung his head, speaking to the floor. “I…i like my dirty diaper…”

The girls all exchanged glances and giggles.

“Show us.”

Jack looked up, confused. “Wha?”

“Show us how much you like it.” Claire said. “Right there, on the floor.”

It took Jack only a second to register what she meant. It would have taken Marianne ages if it hadn’t just been explained to her.

“N-no…” Jack begged, face welling up with crimson again, “please…”

“What?” Val cooed, “does the wittle baybee not want to make cummies in his dirty diapy?”

Jack instinctively grabbed his crotch. Even through the padding, Marianne could tell he was hard. If you would have told her her husband would be getting an erection inside of a poopy diaper while a group of girls laughed and ridiculed him, she would have laughed and ridiculed you. But no matter how red Jack’s face got, he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Lay down, Jack Jack.” Savannah commanded, “on your tummy.”

Despite his hesitation, he worked his quaking legs behind him, then lowered himself down on his belly, the mushy diaper crinkling as it was pressed against the floor, he looked up with doe eyes as he awaited further instruction.

“You know what to do.” Trinity teased over the laughter of the other girls. “Show us what a big boy you are while you hump your dirty diapers!!”

Jack hung his head in shame, but used his arms to pull himself forward, squishing the mess into himself as his diaper ground against the ground. He visibly cringed, groaning as he wriggled his hips back and forth.

The girls cackled with delight, even Marianne smiled at Jack’s shame.

“Hump those Huggies, loser!”

“Pump those poopy pampers!”

“Tell us what you’re doing, diaper dumper!”

Jack was sweating in a mixture of shame and exertion, “I'm humping my poopy diapers!” He repeated over and over as he ground his hips even harder.

They clapped and cheered and teased him with every thrust.

“He’s really getting after it!”

“So horny and desperate!”

“See? All these little losers are the same!”

The girls had discussed with Marianne beforehand that anything they said was purely for degradation purposes. They didn’t think ill of her husband, or even care for that matter, they were just playing their part.

“Tell us when you’re going to cum, loser!”

“Ask us for permission!”

It didn’t take long. Less than 10 seconds since they’d given the command, Jack was blubbering in a pitiful puddle on the floor. “Can I cum? Can i cum please??”

“Call us ‘Goddesses’!”

“And it’s ‘goo goo’ to you!”

Jack moaned and mewed, digging his dirty diaper in the rug. “Nnghhh! Can i make a…goo goo…in my… diapy…Goddesses??”

“No.” Val said without the slightest hint of sympathy. “Lift up.”

Whining and whimpering, Jack reluctantly raised his filthy diaper off the floor.

“Keep humping.” Savannah said. “But don’t touch the ground.”

Jack was on all fours, humping the air like a desperate bitch. Swishing his hips back and forth and making the dirty droopy diaper swing to and fro. The girls found this to be one of the funniest things they’d ever seen. They continued to make him put on this ridiculous display for almost a full minute.

“Rub it!” They commanded, making him push his hand into his crotch and stroke it through his padding.

“PLEASE may I cum, Goddesses?” He was desperate, shouting and whimpering with no regard for how pathetic he looked.

If Marianne had it her way, she would have let him, but instead she decided to let the girls take the reins.

“Absolutely not.” Trinity barked. “Get back on your belly.”

They let him simmer down for a bit before having him resume his humiliating humping.

“Suck your thumb.”

“Babble like a baybee!”

Jack was a blubbering mess on the floor while he mushed his mess with his hips.

“Turn over.”

He flipped on his back.

“Raise your hips up. Hump the air.”

It seemed to be a never ending string of humiliations, one after the other. With each bout of Jack being brought to the edge, the girls made him stop and get in a different position.

“Ple-he-hease!!” Jack begged, actual tears leaking down his face. “Can i make goo goo’s and get out of this dirty diapy?”

The girls seemed to show sympathy for the first time, if only slightly.

“On your back.” Trinity said once more. “You’re not making a goo goo. Not yet, anyway. But you can get out of that disgusting diaper.”

Jack sighed, but did as he was told.

The girls all turned to Marianne. “Are you ready to change him?”

It was Marianne’s turn to flush. She’d never changed a dirty diaper before. Not that she didn’t know how, but because she never thought she was ready to take on such a task.

Claire placed a comforting hand on hers, sensing Marianne’s trepidation. “It’s okay, we’ll be right here with you.”

Marianne took a long, steady breath, trying to find her courage. This was something her husband had wanted for a long time. She wanted to share that moment with him, even if she didn’t quite feel ready. But when would she ever be ready? It’s hard to get up the nerve to see your husband splayed out in his own filth, much less clean it up yourself. If there was a time to do it, it would be right now when she had her friends—if you could call them that—by her side, helping her through it. She let out a long, hefty sigh, putting on her Mommy voice.

“Okay sweetheart!” She chimed, managing to keep her cadence from shaking, “it’s time to change your diaper!!”

To Be Continued

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sincerelyyycece · 8 months ago

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i like you. like a lot.

James mustering up his Gryffindor courage to express his feelings to you.

note: just james being his cute, normal self, typical friends to lovers trope.

"Y/N, can I talk to you?" James inquired. "Right now?" He was clearly in a hurry, but why? I shook my head, my gaze shifting between him and my parchment paper. "I’m a little busy right now; how about later?" I asked as I organized my space. "No," he said, causing me to pause and look at him. "We need to talk right now," he said firmly.

I looked down at my papers once more. I could use a rest. "It wouldn’t take long, right? I need to finish these," I said, my lips pursed. He gave a nod. I took his wrist in mine and led him toward the astronomy tower. He was fidgeting and muttering something I couldn't understand. His strange behaviour perplexed me. We arrived at the astronomy tower not long after. I take a deep breath of the cool, fresh air.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" I break the silence, my gaze fixed on the stars above rather than on him. I could sense his hesitation. "Just spit it out," I tell him, finally turning to face him. "I like you," he said out loud. I was...surprised. He continued when he noticed I was just staring at him. "Like a lot. I’m not sure when it happened." Silence. "No, I know when it happened; remember the camping trip we all went on?" I nodded in response to his question.

"When we were talking by the fire and everyone was busy playing around, you looked so majestic. You kept talking about your dreams and goals in life, and you talk about those like every day. Don’t get me wrong, I love hearing you talk about them and everything, but there was something different that day. I couldn’t decipher it." I nodded to encourage him to continue. "Deep down. I have always liked you but was so afraid of ruining our friendship that I pushed it down. I kept telling myself in my head that it was wrong to think of you that way, and I believed it for a while."

"I felt out of your league, and I was afraid I would lose you," he admitted. I was at a loss for words. He became tense as a result of my silence. "Please say something," his eyes begged. I keep my gaze away from his. "I-" I manage to say. "This is," I say, shaking my head to focus. "James, this is a lot to take in," I finally said, turning to face him. "I’m glad you told me," I said, smiling comfortingly. "That explains how you get so possessive of me," I joked. He lets out a breathless chuckle. "Believe me, if I could, I would make you all mine," he says. His response made me blush, which made me smile.

"Then go ahead and do it," I said. His eyes glowed with delight. "Y/N? Are you serious?" he questions, not believing me. "I like you too, James," I admit. "For quite some time, actually," I shrugged. He smiled so big that it reached his ears. His cheeks had turned bright red from blushing. "Y/N! Merlin, if you are playing with me right now," he said, still smiling. As a no, I shook my head. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the ground. The action made me squeal. I laugh as he spins me around.

"James!" I exclaimed once more. We both laughed as he carefully placed me back on the ground. We both smiled as we looked into each other's eyes. He still had me by the waist, and my arms were wrapped around his neck. He looked at my lips. My smile broadens slightly. I close the gap between us, allowing our lips to finally meet. Fireworks. Butterflies. Sparks. Confetti. It was as if our lips were tailor-made for each other. Our lips brush against each other slowly. We were taking it all in. Our kiss was passionate, long, and sweet. We had waited a long time to do that. He pulls away first, resting his brow on mine.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that," he exhales. "I think I have got an idea," I tease, making him smile. We remained silent, allowing the significance of the moment to sink in. He gives me quick kisses on the lips. "Can I kiss you again?" he politely asked. I nodded slowly. He kisses me gently this time. I feel him smile into the kiss as I return his kiss. I was the one who drew back this time. "Y/N?" he says, addressing me. I responded with a hum.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" he asks again before I can say yes. "I know you don’t like it when people make promises because they will only break them, so I’m not going to make any. I will prove to you that I mean all these words I am about to say. I will learn to love you. I will court you every day. I will cherish every moment with you. I would choose you every day. If I didn’t give up before, I certainly will not give up now. You’re the one I want to make memories with." I nod enthusiastically. "Yes!" I exclaim joyfully.

Our journey together began at that point, marked by laughter, shared dreams, and the warmth of a love that grew stronger with each passing day. As promised, he demonstrated his dedication not through words but through actions, making every effort to comprehend and cherish the unique essence of our bond.

Our days were filled with simple pleasures and grand adventures, each memory woven into the tapestry of our shared existence. We navigated the highs and lows of life side by side, from quiet nights stargazing on the rooftop to exhilarating adventures that left us breathless with laughter.

His initial words became a testament to the unwavering dedication he held to our relationship as time passed. He never made grand promises, but his consistency was more powerful than any vow. Our love endured, standing resiliently like a beacon in the storm, despite challenges that tested our patience and moments that celebrated our victories.

Years passed, and we found ourselves reflecting on a journey that had been more beautiful than we could have imagined. The love that began with a simple question had grown into a deep, profound bond woven with threads of trust, understanding, and a shared vision of the future.

On a quiet evening, surrounded by the warm glow of candlelight, he took my hand in his and looked into my eyes with the same intensity that had me hooked from the start. "I never promised you forever, but here we are," he said softly, a gentle smile on his lips. "I didn’t give up before, and I will not give up now; you’re still the one I want to make memories with.”

At that point, I realized that promises were not always made with words; they could also be written in the consistency of actions and the silent vows of two hearts that had chosen each other day after day. I whispered, "I love you," as we embraced the beauty of our shared past and the promise of an unwritten future, knowing that our love story was a masterpiece, painted stroke by stroke and destined to be a timeless work of art.

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter x you #james potter #james potter x y/n

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noturprobiem · 5 months ago

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The wangxian part of my hualian crossover fic

I don't think you need any context to get the premise, so

Now, I've heard stories about terrifying entities before, of course, but it did not prepare me for how horrifying it would be to see a Necromancer in action.

The report told us that on the outskirts of the city, in an old neighborhood, drunkards began telling stories of zombies and demons roaming in the dark. It was our job to check, and Professor Lan enthusiastically (I'm assuming he was enthusiastic, you know how he is) took the case. The demons didn't seem to cause any harm, just asked weird questions and stole a newspaper once, so I wasn't too worried about my safety. My last encounter ended with me being swiftly sent home before I could see the events unfold, so I even got pretty curious.

We arrived in the morning but didn’t see anything odd until twilight. I thought we would spend weeks there and come back with nothing again and was already thinking of extending our stay. But before I could check the difference in ticket prices, the creature appeared.

I thought that deer was sick at first. The smell coming off of it was foul, like rust and moss, and there was something unnerving in the way it moved, something fundamentally wrong with its weak and shaking posture. Professor Lan didn’t seem surprised or scared it and slowly approached the animal. The deer looked at him with two dead, unblinking eyes. Its jaw unhinged with the sound of breaking bones.

“Lan Zhan,” the creature moaned, voice strained as if its voice chords were dry and torn. The sound made my skin crawl.

Professor Lan, on the other hand, looked star-struck. His eyes shined with an emotion I couldn’t recognize as I’ve never seen his expression change at all.

“It really is you,” he whispered.

“You may say that,” that terrible voice answered. “I was him at some point.”

The ground shook. Hundreds of birds took off the ground, screaming and rapidly flapping their dark wings, covering the sky until the last rays of light could not reach us. I felt a knot tie in the pit of my stomach, my head was spinning so hard it was impossible to see anything. When I could finally breathe again, in front of me stood a handsome young man in black robes, surrounded by three vaguely human silhouettes in red. He was petting the dead animal as if it was a cute little dog. His lustrous black hair streamed down his back like a waterfall, and there was a rusty hue to them that made me think of dirt and dried blood.

“Long time no see,” the man said. “You’ve matured.”

The silhouettes giggled behind him. They turned out to be three young women and two young men with heavy make up. At least that’s what I thought until one of them smiled, revealing a mouth full of bloody, rotten teeth. They didn’t blink. The skin on their hands was old and paper-thin, exposing veins underneath.

“You’ve changed, too,” Professor Lan said, his face so calm I almost thought he didn’t see the laughing demons. “But you shouldn’t reanimate humans.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! I haven’t seen you in years, and yet you can’t wait to scold me,” the entity said with a bitter laugh. “Did you miss it? Threatening me with your cute little institute?”

“I’ve never threatened you. I only warned.”

“Of course,” the entity smiled. “Come, drink with me. My friends can walk your intern to the hotel room.” It turned to face me then. “They don’t bite unless you want them to. They can serve food and drinks, some even sing.”

“I would rather be mugged,” I said.

“You, humans, are funny creatures. What, you don’t like demons just because they don’t look nice and pretty? You think it’s disrespectful to let them exist as anything less than beautiful?” The entity mocked. “Oh, but you don’t like when things are too perfect either. That poor little soul, Luo Binghe, didn’t you kill him too?”

“Do they…have their souls inside?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Duh. How else would they find you cute? And Lan Zhan handsome, of course.”

“Oh. I was taught…Well, we assumed you are puppeteering the bodies.”

Professor Lan nodded then, looking conflicted.

“Well. Don’t you want to get to know them, intern?”

So we went our separate ways. The demons told me their life stories in the hotel room for the duration of the weekend, and Professor Lan was nowhere to be seen until it was time to go back.

#mo xiang tong xiu #wangxian fanfic #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #mdzs #mxtx mdzs #mxtx

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maverickbabes · 1 year ago

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Dance with me

Dilf!Jake Sully x female!navi!Omatikaya!reader

Warnings: I honestly don't know how well this will turn out I might revise it a little cause I wrote this at 12 am but we will see. No major warnings just cute date night :)

Summary: You and Jake were having date night and you get the idea to slow dance with him.

a/n: This is inspired by the date night scene in atwow and the scene in the comic The High Ground where Neytiri says "Dance with me my marine" its so cute ahhhhhhh

You let out a giggle as you turn your head to look at Jake who was already looking back at you with a huge smile. "Oowah!" You said as you did a little twirl and flew over the thick branches connecting the Hallelujah Mountains together, creating a floating bridge. You could hear Jake let out a grunt before chuckling as he flies over the floating bridge.

Shaking your head, you called to your ikran and it began to pick up it's speed. You caught up with him easily and both of you hovered over another floating bridge, taking a moment to look at each other, before soaring back down into the night sky. Jake picked out one of the mountains to land so you both direct your ikrans to the direction of the mountain then land with ease.

"This is perfect ma Jake" You said as you fed your ikran a treat before giving it a little pet session. "See I still got good ideas" Jake said proudly as he gives himself a pat on the back. You turned to look at him and giggle "Yea okay mister" You retorted jokingly earning a disbelief look from your mate.

"Oh really is that so?" He says raising an eyebrow before running towards you and picking you up "Ahh Jake put me down" You giggled as you playfully hit him. "Never ma yawntutsyìp, Never" He tells you while spinning you around. After a few moments, he slows down and gently sets you back onto the ground before letting his arms rest on your waist.

Both of you stood there in each others' embrace for what seemed like enternity. Everything about tonight seemed perfect. The sounds of the animals making a soft melody, The bioluminescents glowing creating just a beautiful aray of colors all around you, The sound of his heartbeat as you rest your head on his chest. Everything was perfect, except for one thing.

"Dance with me" You murmured and Jake pulls away to look at you. "Hmm?" He hummed in curiosity of what you said and you smiled up at him cheekily "Dance with me" You repeated and Jake raises an eyebrow before shaking his head. "No Absolutely not" He says chuckling and you pulled on his hands in excitement.

"Absolutely yes! Dance with me ma yawne" You said letting go of his hands then began to twirl. Jake watches you in amazement as you began to dance under the night sky, your body moving so fluid and smooth, the way you were so full of grace. "Oh what the hell" He mumbled to himself as he to began to dance along next to you.

You chuckled a little as you saw him dancing somewhat awkwardly but it seemed like something was on his mind and you wanted to fix that. "You know how to dance better than that. No more worrying tonight Jake, tonight is for us" You tell him looking at him with such love and desire in your eyes.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Just like that, it seemed like all the stress and worries that were in his mind melted away and he pulled you close then dipped you as he gave you a slow yet sensual kiss.

Now tonight was perfect

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #dilf jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully #jake sully imagine #avatar twow #jake sully fluff #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully fic #avatar jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x omaticaya reader

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kitashousewife · 2 years ago

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home for christmas

an: i know im going out of order but inspiration struck for these AND i want to get the christmas fics written cause i am IN THE SPIRIT!! i hope i wrote him okay it's my first time heehee

pairings: timeskip!oikawa x fem!reader

warnings: reader is going home from japan but it is not specified as to where, airports and flying, very flirty oikawa, food and drink mentions, alcohol mentions, very fluffy, strangers (sort of) to lovers

besides the click of luggage wheels on the tile floor and the occasional intercom message, the airport is quite calm. checked bag long whisked away to join the others, everything back in place after the rush of security. now it's just you and a few others settling into the gate.

but you can't quite relax.

not with the feeling of someone staring at you.

you sat down in your seat about 30 minutes ago, and oikawa sat down shortly after, right in front of you. you glanced his way, before looking back at your phone. you tried to sneak glances every chance you could. soft brown hair waving perfectly, pretty fingers scrolling on his phone, and you could tell he was tall. he didn't have much with him, with the exception of a light blue duffle bag that he was using as a footrest. everything about him was pretty.

you stopped looking at the handsome stranger when your eyes met. rich, golden brown hues staring right into yours, with a confident smirk gracing his lips. after that, you quit looking up from the book you attempted to distract yourself with, forcing your heartbeat to slow down.

oikawa, however, hasn't stopped. the second he locked eyes with you he couldn't stop. the wide-eyed look you gave him before averting your eyes back to your lap was so cute.

he can't help it, really. after a few more minutes of stolen glances, he clears his throat.

"excuse me, do you know where the drinking fountain is?"

you hum and look up, startled a bit when you realize the stranger is standing right in front of you.

"sorry, are you talking to me?"

he chuckles. adorable.

"yes, so sorry. i didn't mean to distract you from your book," he gives you a dazzling smile. he shakes his water bottle in his hand, before looking around. "i just noticed that yours was full, and i'm a little thirsty."

your heart is racing. sure, this was probably the most attractive person you'd seen in your life, but you didn't think he would even talk to you. your mouth is dry.

"the one i went to is right around the corner," you point and he nods. "i could watch your stuff?"

"would you mind?" you shake your head. "hmm, fine. i trust ya," oikawa winks before walking away with a wave. "i'll be right back!"

once he rounds the corner you grab your phone, frantically pulling up instagram. scrolling through your dm's until you reach a conversation between friends, you select it and scroll until you reach the post. your friend had sent a photo a few days back of a volleyball player, gushing about how attractive he was, to which the rest of your friends agreed.

the photo is of oikawa, reclined on one of the bench chairs during a time-out. water bottle to his upturned lips as he smiles at the photographer with those big brown eyes sparkling in the light. that's definitely him. you thought you had recognized him, but it seemed too good to be true. wouldn't he be staying home with his family?

"whatchya lookin' at?" oikawa says from right behind you, and you jump.

"nothing, just-"

"aw, it's okay. at least that's a pretty good photo of me," he says with a chuckle before sitting down in front of you once more.

"what's your name? i would tell you mine, but it looks like you already know," he smirks. you answer, squeaking out your name. "so, where are you headed to?"

your head is spinning. "im actually headed home for the holidays, how about you?"

he takes a sip of his water, grimacing as he swallows. "did you drink any of this? gross," he shakes his head, setting his water bottle on the ground with a clink. "i can't drink this. do you want to get a drink, on me?" he gestures to the hotel bar. you think for a second, before nodding.

"great. i would love the company. oh, let me get that for you!" he takes your carry-on, whisking it away with his own before walking over to the bar. he sets your things down before pulling out the stool for you.

"you didn't need to do that, it was only a few steps," you laugh before sitting down, feeling almost nervous when he joins by your side.

"i don't mind. pretty girls like you shouldn't need to carry luggage all around."

your cheeks heat up, but thankfully the bartender arrives just in time. the two of you order and are given your drinks rather quickly, thanks to the bar being almost empty.

"so," you take a sip. "where are you headed?"

"oh right. im meeting my team for a few games. they arrived a couple days ago, but my coach said it was okay to spend a few more days here with my family and friends," he runs his fingers through his hair. "and you? are you excited to be home for christmas?"

you can't help but smile. "actually, yes. im excited to sleep in my own bed," you laugh, and oikawa smiles.

"i know how that feels."

"that's nice of your coach to let you spend time at home."

he sips his drink, nodding. "i'm really thankful. it was nice to celebrate christmas with those i love, even if it's a little bit early," he looks at you, and he's happy to see that you're looking right back.

"you have-here, let me get it," oikawa leans in, reaching his thumb up to your cheek. at this proximity, you can see it all. every tanned freckle dusting his cheeks, every tiny gold fleck flickering in his eyes. your attention is drawn away when his tongue pokes out in concentration.

"got it. sorry, you had an eyelash. make a wish!"

you look down, and on his finger tip is an eyelash. you blink up at him.

"what?"

he laughs. "growing up, if we ever had an eyelash fall off, we would make a wish before blowing it off of our finger. so, make a wish, beautiful."

you look at him before blowing the eyelash, watching it flutter into the air. he finishes his drink, completely unphased before setting it down and digging i his wallet for his card. after he pays, the two of you get to know each other a bit more. sharing stories, interests, likes and dislikes.

meanwhile, you are stirring in your seat. the thoughts going through your mind are dizzying, images of his face up close, how intoxicating his cologne is, how he touched you. so soft and delicate, like you were made of porcelain.

"-and i forgot them at my apartment. what do you think?"

you snap up, confusion playing at your features and he laughs. he signs the receipt, nodding at the bar tended with a smile before picking up your carry on once more.

"i'm sorry, i didn't-what did you say?" he chuckles before placing his free hand on your shoulder.

"after one drink? what on earth did you order?" oikawa pushes a strand of your hair aside effortlessly like he's known you for years. "i was saying, i forgot my snacks at my place and was wondering if you wanted to come with me to get some."

"sure. only if you let me carry my own bag."

he laughs, a real laugh before sliding it over to you.

"fine, fine. but if anyone asks, you have to say that i'm a gentleman."

the two of you walk together, sharing favorite snacks and treats as you mosey through the airport convenience store. he gets what he needs, insisting he gets something for you despite your assurance that you're fine.

the different decorations and lights sparkle through the airport at this hour, coating everything in a cheery glow. everything is making you anxious to go home, see everyone important to you and finally participate in traditions and activities.

"y'know, you are really quite beautiful."

the two of you stop walking, standing in front of your gate.

"that's just the alcohol talking," you shake your head, setting your things down in front of a couple seats. he grabs your hand.

"no! not at all. i mean it. why do you think i talked to you in the first place?"

"because you were thirsty?"

oikawa laughs, running his fingers through is hair once more. he thinks for a moment of his friends. iwa, makki, and mattsun would be laughing at him right now. playing with his hair is one of his nervous ticks. thankfully, you don't know that.

"can i tell you a secret?"

he's close right now. so close. you can see the details, just like before, but this time it's different. the low light of the airport makes his eyes almost golden as they stare at you, full of nerves and worry even though the smirk on his lips says otherwise.

"of course,"

he leans to your ear, tucking a strand of hair behind it.

"i knew where the water fountain was the entire time."

you gasp, part because of the goosebumps that now dance across your skin, and at his confession.

"you liar!" you smack him playfully, and you swear he blushes.

"i wanted to talk to you, but i needed a reason. and it worked, didn't it?" his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, and you shake your head.

"you're quite pretty yourself, oikawa."

you look up at him, the same nervousness swimming around in your irises. his fingers reach through his hair once more.

"you don't mean that,"

"i wouldn't lie about that."

he stares at you, your eyes, and then your lips. his tongue wets his, and he seriously considers kissing you right now. a complete stranger, someone he's met by complete chance, but feels like he's known his entire life.

"you know oikawa, my friends are completely in love with you."

"oh yeah?" he smiles again, a complete 180 from how he was only seconds ago. covering up his nerves with faux confidence, something he's gotten quite used to.

"mhm. they talk about you all the time. they would kill to be here right now,"

he hums, sitting next to you like before.

"well you should show them!"

his hand falls to your forearm, the one in which holds your phone. he gestures down to it, and you finally understand what he means.

you hold up your camera and snap a photo of the two of you; one silly, and one smiling. you send it into the group chat and lock your phone.

with a sigh, you sink back into your seat. it's close to midnight at this point, meaning you should be boarding shortly.

"thanks for the drink tonight, oikawa,"

"tooru please," he corrects, a playful tone in his voice. "and it's no problem. i really enjoyed meeting you." he feels a blush creeping onto his cheeks. clearing his throat, he looks out towards the windows as he watches the plane be taxied in.

"do you think i could get your number?"

"of course! u-um, here. just put in your information," you unlock your phone and gasp.

3 missed calls, around 15 texts, and a missed group facetime. oikawa snickers. you hand him the phone, and he puts in his contact quickly and sends a text to himself to get yours as well.

hot airport stranger now lives in your phone, oikawa hopes forever.

the two of you board, and you're a little sad that your seats aren't as close. you can't be too upset, though. luck has shown on you more than enough tonight. once in the air and comfortable, you settle in for the next few hours. the seatbelt light above you turns off, followed by a message of clearance to move about the cabin.

"hey you," a quiet voice cuts through the buzz of the flight. oikawa slips next to you, making himself comfortable in the seat right next to you. "we have a few more hours together, so i figured we should make the most of it." he sets his laptop up on the tray and hands you an earbud with a smile. you accept, stomach full of butterflies.

as the movie starts, a bittersweet feeling sinks in both of your chests. worried about never seeing each other again, wishing this flight would last forever, but wanting to get home to christmas and volleyball has both of you torn.

for the next few hours at least, the two of you live in your own world, snacking and watching movie after movie together. when you finally close your eyes and lean into his shoulder, oikawa feels his like he is going to explode. he snaps a quick photo of the two of you on your phone, then his, before shutting his laptop.

while you sleep, oikawa analyzes his schedule while he's in town, as well as for the next few months. he looks at plane to japan as well as your hometown before coming to a final decision.

nothing is going to stop him from seeing you again.

#heidswinterevent #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu imagine #oikawa imagine #oikawa fluff #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader

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clickerflight · 10 months ago

Text

Muir: Part 1 - Warehouse

A bit of a treat for ya here! A two parter about how Muir became a vampire. The second one will be up as soon as I have it edited. Enjoy!

Master list

Part 2

Content: human police whumpee, gun violence, mentions of cults and what happened to Joseph, hidden injury vibes

........................................

Muir spun his chair back and forth impatiently, watching Granger work her way through her paperwork for the week. She kept eyeing him, annoyed.

“Isn’t there something you should be doing?” she asked, typing away at her keyboard.

Muir clicked his tongue. “No.”

“Paperwork?”

“You know how I am about paperwork,” he replied. “It’s all done.”

“How do you even manage that? I know how many cases you take at a time, on top of your bondmate.”

Muir gave her a side eyed look when she said bondmate. She always said it with disappointment, like he’d made a bad decision in bonding with Joseph as a human. He personally was fine with it. He was pretty sure that it gave him some sort of extra energy somehow, and it was comforting knowing someone would always know where he was. “Maybe I sold my soul for paperwork powers.”

She didn’t even roll her eyes at his terrible joke and just gave a long, long sigh.

“I don’t know, Granger. I just work on it when I have a spare minute here and there,” he said with a shrug.

“Isn’t there research you can do?”

“I’m out of leads till my warrant goes through.”

“You could help someone else get their work done. I wouldn’t mind help with my paperwork.”

“Nah,” Muir said, going back to spinning. “I’m enjoying watching you do it.”

Granger flashed her fangs at him, but there was no real fire behind it. “Okay, whatever. But if the chief sees you sitting on your hands she’ll find something for you to do.”

“Oh, I know,” Muir replied. “But she’s in a meeting with the Fire Inspector right now.”

Granger groaned at Muir’s grin. “Yeah, and he comes in and wastes her time. What could he possibly need to talk to her about that oft-” She spotted the look on Muir’s face and her eyebrows shot up in a rare show of surprise. “No. No!”

“Yes,” Muir said, deeply amused. “They’re being responsible and making sure they have their work done just so they have time for little meetings.”

Granger put her face in her hands with a groan. “That is so wrong.”

“I think it’s cute,” Muir said, spinning a full circle before he pulled up a screen on his computer and started typing so smoothly that Granger almost didn’t notice as the chief’s door opened and the Fire Inspector backed out, holding up a hand in goodbye.

Muir waited till the man had left and the door to the chief’s office was fully closed before he went back to spinning his chair back and forth, practically taunting Granger.

She sighed, shaking her head and going back to her paperwork.

Muir scrolled through his computer, occasionally refreshing his emails and chatting with a couple of friends.

Then, he refreshed his email again and he rushed to click on the link and print out the warrant. “I’ve got it. I’ll call the guys together. Be at the cars in 10 minutes, Granger.”

With that, Muir was off with his fresh warrant to let the chief know where he was going and how many officers he needed to take with him.

Granger sighed one more time as she worked to finish what she was working on. This should at least be fun. Until it gave her more paperwork afterwards.

……………………………..

The warehouse the warrant was for was attached to the new cult formed out of the ashes of the previous one that have been involved in killing David and causing harm to Joseph. Muir had been investigating it, reopening the case. He had quickly discovered that the previous case had actually been connected to a lot of missing person’s reports. It seemed that on the same night of the ritual,every single cult member had completely vanished, and the only living witness to the incident was buried in a box in the ground and unable to know what happened.

Muir had been worried that would be the end of it, chasing dead end after dead end, looking for unclaimed bodies to see if they had performed a mass suicide somewhere else, but he had found nothing.

Nothing except for a record of a new cult starting soon after, using the same name and locations with different people involved, though some of them were friends and family of the missing cult members.

This warehouse would hold even more information. Muir had worked his tail off to get enough evidence that something shady was going on here to get himself a warrant. If they could just get inside, they might actually find out what has been going on here. Even if he couldn’t put the original group in jail for what they did, he could keep this group from doing any more harm.

And they had already done plenty of harm. There had been some vampire disappearances in the area since they had established themselves again. Muir had got the warrant based on some illicit potion deliveries he managed to confirm at this address, though he was fairly certain they would be finding some vampire ash inside, if not the whole cult all high on it.

Muir got his gun ready, flashlight in the other hand as he and the group of officers approached the door, Granger at his shoulder ready to intercept any attack thrown his way. He had to admit he envied her abilities as a vampire. He would love to intercept attacks for the others without too much concern for his own life.

He looked around and nodded at Officer Blaire. He had the loudest voice and was the best at kicking down doors. His eyes lit up at the chance as he made his way to the front of the group. He banged on the door and shouted, “Police! Open up!”

There was a long long moment of silence, counting out the seconds legally required before continuing, before Officer Blaire smiled like a kid on Christmas as he stepped back and slammed the door in.

It opened easily enough and officers moved in quickly, flashlight beams swinging around in the darkness beyond.

The place was fairly dusty, and smelled of drugs and potions.

Muir carefully made his way forward, clearing spaces and calling out to the others, listening to the others shout out ‘Clear!’ to make sure no one went down without his noticing.

There didn’t seem to be anyone here. There were old style coffins lined along the walls, some of them nailed shut, others with free swinging lids. The old warehouse was filled to the brim with crates and boxes and a quick peek in a couple of them assured Muir that his warrant had certainly paid off.

“We’ve got Vampire Ash here!”

Muir made his way through the crates over to a set of long tables where there were boxes of vampire ash along with the equipment to make it into a potent drug. The process had been discovered fairly recently and the drug was beginning to spread like wildfire through the streets of most major cities because of its addictive and healing effects while the authorities tried to figure out where all the vampires were that were being mutilated, mistreated, and killed to make the stuff.

“Alright, the Icky guys should be here soon to deal with this,” he said, referring to the Illicit Substance division that would come through to help them clear the place out safely. “Let’s just make sure this place is empty.”

“Yes sir.”

Muir continued on into the dark, searching for more leads. He had to have another lead. This was a lot, but he wanted to find where the cult kept some of their files, maybe even see where they got the vampire ash from and bust a few drug rings.

He found an office space towards the back of the warehouse and whistled sharply to let Granger know where he was. He found the door to be unlocked and quickly swung his flashlight around the office. It was empty besides a couple of computers and some files piled haphazardly around the room.

Delighted by this, he stepped into the room, looking around at the files and picking one up to see what was on it.

Before he could really see what it was, he heard movement behind him, though he wasn’t that concerned. That would be Granger catching up to him and keeping an eye out while he poked through all of these papers and computers and happily picked out lead after lead like he was foraging cheerfully through a forest for mushrooms like he did with his dad when he was younger.

He was abruptly jolted from his satisfaction as a terrifyingly loud sound lit through the room and he felt something impact his body.

He managed to keep from falling forward into the papers and turned to find a pale, wide-eyed human staring at him, a gun in their hand and long greasy hair in their eyes.

Muir jumped forward, his blood rushing in his ears as he pushed the gun to the side and shouted as he fought with the person. The attacker scratched at him and screeched like a wild thing, struggling to get away no matter the damage to their person.

Grager shot out of the darkness, grabbing the human and forcing them to the ground on their stomach and cuffed their hands behind their back, kicking the gun away.

“Are you alright? I heard two shots. Were they yours?”

“Two?” he asked, still jittery from the surprise. He must not have processed the other one in his shock. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. My armor caught it, I think.”

“You’re sure.”

“Yeah. I’m alright.

More agents and officers hurried over to see what had happened and Muir was quick to explain the situation. Afterwards, he said, “Officer Blair, if you could get the suspect out to the…. To the car that would be… be… ummm.”

Muir started to sway, the blood draining from his face. What was going on? He should probably sit down. He slowly took a step back towards a crate, leaning against it as Officer Blair stepped forward. “Sir? Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” he said weakly. “I’ll be alright. Just the shock of being shot at, I think. Here, Granger, you take over. I’m going to get some air and water really quick.”

Granger nodded, giving a bit of a side look as he made his way out of the warehouse. The pain where he’d been shot started to register and he groaned. The armor kept you alive but it still hurt like nothing else. He’d have a bruise for a week. He felt something wet drip down his arm and realized the suspect had scratched him with their long jagged nails where they’d untucked his sleeve from his glove. He’d have to remember to get it cleaned. He hoped it didn’t get infected. He wondered how long that person had been here. Long enough to go pale and hollow and…. And…..

Muir stumbled, and then he fell, pain blazing out through his stomach and back. He tried to take a breath to shout for help, but all he could do was lay there in the dust as it gradually dawned on him that something was very, very wrong.

Part 2

From Dust to Ashes: @honeycollectswhump @writereleaserepeat @tragedyinblue @hyrules-sleepiest-knight @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thecyrulik @gt-daboss @currentlyinthesprial @pigeonwhumps @not-a-space-alien

#whump #writing #police whumpee #human whumpee #gun violence #cults #hidden injury #here we go!#IDK why it took me so long to get around to writing this #it was fun to build out Muir's character a bit more #also fun to build out the world through this #it's so fun

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j-graysonlibrary · 8 months ago

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Heartbeats; Paradise XI

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction.

XI:

There’s no telling what will happen once we get to the rec center and my nerves are all over the place. Oz has taken on the task of driving since my axe wound is still hurting and I mostly look out the window on the drive. Occasionally, I glance back at Kade in the back seat to make sure he’s still unconscious.

He is.

I worry he’ll wake up on the drive and cause a scene but, thankfully, it’s a peaceful trip. Although, maybe peaceful isn’t the right word. Uneventful may be more apt.

My mind certainly isn’t at peace, that’s for sure. I’m eager to finally hear Bree’s side of things but I’m also scared to know the truth. If what Kade has revealed today is any indicator of our situation then we’re stuck in this empty, fabricated world indefinitely.

But, I have a little bit of optimism that lingers and it tells me that, perhaps, Bree’s story will have an answer to this.

I try not to get my hopes up too high but I also don’t want to go into the meeting with expectations that are buried six feet under.

Oz takes Kade out of the back and tosses him over his shoulder again. I size up the rec center and wonder where, inside, everyone will be. It’s a pretty large building.

I hope Bree will just be near the entrance waiting for us since it’s not like we can use our phones to text her where we are. I anxiously chew the inside of my mouth as I head off in front of Oz and hold the door open for him.

We are met by a dark abyss but, the second I take another step, a light appears overhead. I walk a little more and a second light turns on. “I guess they’re motion activated,” I muse aloud.

Right after, I hear a distant commotion followed by the sound of footsteps. I turn my head toward the direction of the sound and see a figure, triggering a series of lights as they move to greet us.

It’s Bree and I sigh in relief.

“This way,” she says tersely and immediately spins on her heel and starts heading back.

Oz and I exchange a look and then follow her. Several floor-to-ceiling shelves block off an area where I see two other people through the metal bars. Bree maneuvers around the obstacles and I let Oz go next before tailing him. The last gap is a bit of a tight squeeze but we make it.

The clearing is big enough to be a small apartment and there are sleeping bags on the ground as well as a cookout set for camping and an old portable DVD player. Sitting on two of the sleeping bags are Starla and Nate, both looking a bit out of sorts.

Starla perks up when she catches sight of her brother, however. “Is he…?”

“He’s fine,” Oz answers as he sits Kade down against one of the shelves. He secures more of the rope to the shelf and ties him to it—probably a smart move.

“We had to knock him out,” I explain, “Sorry.”

Starla shakes her head. “That’s okay. He was completely out of his mind…”

“…Scary,” Nate mutters, a lot less animated than I’m used to. Though, I guess, now is the last time anyone wants to be peppy.

“Did he hurt you?” Starla asks, taking note of the jacket tied around my arm.

“Oh, yeah…” I had forgotten about it. I wonder if that means it’s healed already so I pull the jacket off. The rip in my coat allows me to see the cut and, while there is definitely a mark, it’s closed up and no longer bleeding. “I’m fine now.”

Oz instantly appears at my side to look it over himself. “It would be amazing if it weren’t so unsettling.”

I smirk. “I’ll accept it for now.”

“Still sucks that it hurts,” Starla says as if she has personal experience in the matter. I wonder if Kade hurt her too.

Bree clears her throat and gets everyone’s attention on her. “Are we all good?” she asks and looks between us. With a loose gesture to the ground she mentions to Oz and me, “You can take a seat. We all need to wait for Kade to wake up.”

That’s right, I think. I still have to wait for answers. My stomach is filled with butterflies and I can’t focus on anything. The room is deathly quiet and that doesn’t help in the least. At a certain point I may have found Nate’s chatter to be borderline obnoxious but now I think I could really use some mindless rambling.

Anything to ground me.

Oz touches my back so I glance over at him but he’s not looking at me. He’s just making contact, which I appreciate, but his eyes are on Kade almost as if he’s mentally willing him to wake.

And maybe it works because he starts to stir.

“Kade!” Starla and Bree both call out but only Bree gets closer.

I hold my breath as I watch Kade open his eyes and take in his surroundings. Confusion is the most dominant emotion I can see on his face but anger starts to slowly take over. Especially when he tries to move his arms and finds them tied behind his back and to the shelf.

He jerks forward but Oswald has done a good job securing him.

“What the hell is this?!” he hisses.

“We told you Bree was going to talk to us,” Oz answers and shrugs, “And she won’t talk unless you’re here.”

Kade continues to fuss with his restraints but to no avail. “Fuck,” he curses and glares at Bree, “Why do you need me here? You going to brainwash me again?”

“I’m not,” she responds immediately, “It wasn’t me, Kade but I do know who did it.”

“Then tell me so I can fucking kill them,” he growls.

She shakes her head and backtracks before sitting down on the floor, in front of all of us. “It’s not that simple…please let me explain everything. It may not be what you want to hear but you all deserve the truth. And now that I know she’s not actively watching us and can no longer tamper with the system, I feel comfortable telling you.”

“What do you mean she can’t tamper with it?” I ask as my brows pinch together.

Bree sighs. “Since I noticed her presence leave, I’ve been doing a bit of…fortification to keep outside access away. Basically, I’ve locked the door from the inside. I’ll explain better with full context.”

“Then go ahead,” Oz urges. He’s much more tired of waiting than I am.

“Well…to start, I need to tell you a bit about myself. I know this won’t answer your questions right away but…I’ve been preparing this speech for a while so just let me do it the way I’ve practiced, alright?”

I glance between everyone, trying to gauge their reactions. Starla watches Bree with a tender expression, almost like she already knows what’s coming and Nate seems a bit confused or dazed. Kade is still fuming but he’s not said anything for a minute so I don’t think he’ll be interrupting. Honestly, it’s Oz I’m most worried about cutting her off but he seems a bit more relaxed now. When he gives Bree a curt nod, she begins.

“I’m sure this goes without saying but I’m not Bree Cho. I come from a world far outside this little bubble and my real name is Kendra Reid.”

She’s right—that should have gone without saying yet I’m still a little surprised that she’s opened with it. I commit to calling her Kendra from now on.

“I’ve been writing stories since I was a kid and, in high school I met this girl named Anika Bailey who shared a lot of my interests. We started writing together and sharing our stories,” Kendra smiles as she recounts those days, “At about this time, there was a new internet system called IVAR that was getting popular. Now, IVAR is an acronym for Immersive Virtual Alternate Reality. Basically, instead of just going online on a computer or on your phone, you could hook up to a device and actually be transported to a new place. Your body would stay where you left it but your mind would sort of…astral project you into an online space where you could interact with things as if they were really in front of you.”

I can guess that what we’re stuck in is some byproduct of this IVAR system.

“In other words, it’s virtual reality but to the nth degree and a lot of creative works were taking off in IVAR. You could watch movies in a realistic theater without having to leave your IVAR pod—you could see plays, watch stories unfold before your eyes. Really, just about whatever you wanted.

Anika and I decided to open our own little hub in IVAR but we kept it private. We plugged in some of our old stories and watched them play out so many times I lost count. Actually seeing something I worked so hard on come to life was…incredibly awesome.”

“So that’s why you think it’s okay to play with our lives?” Kade asks, pulling against the ropes so he can lean forward as much as possible, “For your entertainment?”

Kendra shakes her head. “No! It wasn’t like that. The stories we brought to life back then weren’t like this. It was nothing more than animation—very polished animation, sure—but there was no soul in those characters.”

“So they weren’t like us?” I ask.

Oz raises his hand. “Let her continue,” he says, surprising me.

She nods in appreciation and carries on, “Anika and I went to university together and my studies kept me too busy to write but it didn’t slow Anika down any. She started publishing stories on IVAR under a penname and getting some money off of it too. Then she published what would become her most infamous novel.”

I find myself leaning into the story and I’m not the only one. Oz is hyper focused and Kade’s irritation is even beginning to fade away. Starla still looks like she’s in the know and I wonder if maybe Kendra practiced reciting this to her. I glance to Nate and wonder what he’s thinking. Since the start, he’s barely moved or blinked.

“We had written some…darker material when it was just us messing around on our own so what she wrote about in this book didn’t surprise me. It was just…” Kendra rubs her lips together and pauses with a sigh. “Okay, so, there was this guy at our school who was good looking—at least according to the majority of the student populace—he wasn’t really my type so I can’t say. He was incredibly popular though. He sang and was okay at it and he and his other decent looking guy friends practiced dancing so they could be in a boy band one day. His name was Skylar Lumis and you could say he was like the idol of the school.

Anika was absolutely infatuated with him and decided it was a good idea to not only model her main character after Skylar but also name him Skyvan Luna.”

Oz laughing at my side nearly makes me jump. I look over to see him covering his mouth. “Sorry,” he says, “But that’s pretty bad.”

Kendra smirks. “Yeah. And, so, even though Anika was using a penname, some of the people at university were able to put two and two together and figured out it was her. Cut to Skylar confronting Anika about using his likeness on a protagonist who gets gang banged by monsters for the majority of her novel.”

My brow rises as the mental image forces its way into my brain.

“Anika was humiliated and I wasn’t sure I could comfort her. I felt bad for my friend but she was really stupid about how she went about things and I definitely understood where Skylar was coming from. We didn’t talk for a while and I focused on my studies and, when I could, my own writing.

In fact, I started to work on a story I was really happy with. I was even thinking of publishing it on IVAR once all the kinks were worked out. After Anika started to feel better and the controversy was behind her, we started to hang out again. I decided to have her read my first draft to see what she thought and she…” Kendra pauses to let out a heavy exhale. “She told me it was ‘problematic’. Then she proceeded to tear apart everything that was wrong with it. The main characters were each abused as children and the central theme was overcoming trauma and conquering old wounds. The main character…um…Kade…”

“Excuse me?” Kade asks without skipping a beat, “I thought you said—”

“I know,” Kendra cuts him off too. “I’m getting there. I promise.”

She looks between us, an expression of deep guilt on her face. I can’t bring myself to doubt her or her story and, truly, I want to hear it all the way through.

“Kade was groomed and attacked by his piano teacher as a teen but, after so many years, he meets the man’s twin brother. Even though they look identical, Oswald is a different person and being around him helps Kade find closure with that event in his past. They become friends and Anika…she told me that was pedophilia apologist behavior. Despite the fact Oz wasn’t the man who abused Kade, the fact that Kade was hanging out with someone with the same face was the same, to her, as forgiving his abuser.

And in Melvin’s case, his abuser was Gladis—on older woman who groomed him and isolated him from his peers. She was a more complicated antagonist since Melvin didn’t realize that he was abused and Gladis, despite her terrible behavior, had traits that could make her seem sympathetic. Because of those traits, Anika believed I was trying to excuse her actions as well.”

Kendra runs a hand through her hair, the frustration of the conversation from the past still bothering her. It’s bothering me as well but for far different reasons.

I know and have known for a time now that I’m a character in a story but hearing about myself like this is jarring. Knowing that I was, once, just a thought in Kendra’s head is disparaging. It feel like there is a weight pressing, ever forward, on my chest.

“I tried to argue my points with Anika since I was so passionate about this story but she told me I was a disgusting pedophile who must get off on the suffering of children. She called me a gross pervert for the sex scenes I had written between Melvin and Kade since some of them involved…some BDSM play. But she was the one that wrote monster porn about our classmate so I was a bit confused. When I brought that up in my frustration, she stormed off.”

Starla places a hand on Kendra’s shoulder, squeezing and giving her a sympathetic look. She’s definitely not hearing this for the first time.

Meanwhile, Kade’s glare is back. “So you decided to post your story anyway?”

Kendra shakes her head. “I didn’t go into great detail just now but I’m sure you noticed some differences between what I described and what you’ve lived through, Kade.”

He and I both look to Oz. According to Kendra’s story, he would have never been the one who hurt Kade. Though it had never actually happened anyway, I still find myself kind of glad that it wasn’t his intended role to begin with.

“I didn’t touch my story after my fight with Anika,” Kendra recounts and rolls her head back, looking to the ceiling. “I transferred to a college across the pond and not only to get away from Anika but to get into a writing program that I always had interest in. Though…getting away from Anika was a big bonus.

For a couple years, I kept my head down and got my degree. The new city was a great place and I made a lot of new friends. I barely even used IVAR anymore except to play games with my new squad. One day, I was feeling a little nostalgic so I decided to hop in and check the top trending stories in the hub specifically for queer stories. A lot of new or up and coming authors were up on the board and I started to think about—maybe—going back and tweaking my novel for an official release.”

Her eyes look past all of us as she says, “But I see, in the number eight spot for upcoming works, Heartbeats; Paradise by Anika Bailey.” I watch as her hands ball into fists. “She not only started using her real name but she stole my title. I…I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and think maybe she just took the title and nothing else but, when I read the synopsis, I knew she’d taken it all.”

“…That’s why you feel responsible,” I say, unable to hold it back.

She didn’t actually make this place but the ideas were all hers.

Kendra nods slowly. “I was so mad…I was shaking. I…I approached the specific hub for the story and started to check it out. In the years I messed around in IVAR, I picked up some hacking tricks and I wasn’t about to pay for my own stolen novel so I pushed my way in through the back door.

The feeling inside was unlike most stories I’d experienced so I started to look around. My intent was to tear it apart from the inside and make it unplayable as revenge. So I went to Oswald’s apartment and decided to use that area as my entry point. I was able to see the barebones of the story and all the changes Anika had made…”

“How much did she change?” Oz asks, more curious than stern.

Kendra rolls her eyes at the thought. “So much. For starters, she clearly learned nothing from the Skylar incident since she just based Kade’s appearance off of Milan Seidel,” she stops when she gets no response from us. With a dry laugh she explains, “He’s a popular figure skater that we liked in college. Kade’s a dead ringer for him but with slightly lighter hair. But, worse than that, she basically watered down every plot point and character trait and removed any ounce of nuance. It made me sick to my stomach so I tried to shut it all down in one go…

But I’m not the only one who learned how to play with code in IVAR. I guess Anika expected something like this might happen so I was repelled from the code and, the next thing I knew, I was in Bree’s body.”

My face twists in confusion and I sit up straighter. Kade beats me to the punch though when he asks, “Did you die?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.” Kendra laughs again. “But once I was in this body, I could hear Anika’s thoughts in my head but, maybe because I kept all of my memories as me, I was able to ignore her. I didn’t want her to figure out I was here though so I went along with what she wanted any time Bree was in the story. Only when her gaze was off of me would I go off on my own and try to hack again.”

“Still outside of my apartment?” Oz asks with a raised eyebrow.

Kendra gives a sideways smile. “I thought it might be beneficial to distort the space around your place since she didn’t have you in the story much. In my mind, if I was able to tinker with your programming before she noticed then I could ruin her story. The problem came when I realized you weren’t just an advanced A.I.”

Her gaze hardens as she looks between us, ultimately settling on Oz.

“You have a soul.”

#heartbeats paradise #my novel #my writing

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milexa2000 · 3 years ago

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4 town x reader headcanon where the reader is terribly clumsy please? 😍🙏

OMGGG YASSSS I LUV THIS ONE

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

ROBAIRE🎤

He just thinks its so cute when you act clumsy

He doesnt even mind when you act awkward infront of him

Whenever you trip on your own foot, hes always there to rescue you

he quickly catches you

He will always ask you if your okay

"Are you okay, mon Amour?" he asks, in a Soft, romantic voice

You just stare at him, your pupils getting bigger and bigger cause of how hot he looks looking down at you, holding your body

"Y/n?", "y/nnn???" no responce

"Y/N!" he asks a bit Louder this time which catches your attention

"Wha- what??"

He starts to chuckle

He loves the way you stare into space

"Bébé, i was asking you if you were okay."

You quickly apologize cause you thought you Were being weird

But he shushes you and saya "dont apologize, i like it."

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

Tae young🕊

Like Robaire, he thinks its cute when you are clumsy

he giggles when you poke him on the cheek

Or when you stroke his cheeks like a grandma

He loves it so much

or even when you give him so many kisses and praise him likes he's a little baby

"Oh my gwoodness you are just so cyuuteee!"

He is always there for you whenever your about to drop or break something

You both we're gonna have cereal and you shakingly hold your bowl full of cereal

Tae young, afraid that you will drop it, came behind you and holded your arms steady

"Careful dove, dont want you to drop your bowl." he say with the most CUTEST SMILE ON HIS FACE🥺🥺

"Awww thanks tae, your my hero." you say in a silly baby voice.

You stroke and kiss his cheek and walk off

His face turns super red after that

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

Aaron T

Aaron just loves you to much

Like you guys love being clumsy together

Like when you guys spin around to much and you fall on top of him from all the dizziness and you both die of laughter

You are so clumsy around T's friends and he acts like its nothing

Sometimes he might get nervous if his friends might find you awkward

But luckly, they all love you and find you funny

His friends love watching you both being clumsy to eachother

Like both of you poking your cheeks And shaking his head with your Hands

Your distracted from your phone when Aaron T comes suprises you by coming behind you and hugging your waist

That scares you that you almost dropped your phone

But Aaron has "spider sences" and he quickly grabs your phone from falling out of your hand

"I'm sorry baby!" he says, laughing hystericly at your reaction

You start play fully hitting him and chasing him around the house

"AARON T YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"

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

Aaron Z🏀

He just thinks your absolutely adorable

He is just so lucky to have you

Poor baby can get super worried about you getting hurt cause of how clumsy you can be

Like one time you Were dancing like crazy, listening to music on full volume

Z relaxed on the Sofa almost about to sleep. But then he heard a loud thud

Which immedietly wakes him up and go run up to the sound he heard

He sees you on the ground and immedietly goes up to you and carries you, bridal style (hes super strong dont worry)

"Babe! Are you okay?" , "does it hurt when i touch you here?", "did you break your leg?"

He just keeps asking multiple questions

You laugh at him and say that your totally fine

He sighs in relief and holds you tight

"You almost gave me a scare there, please dont scare me like that again."

You promise him and gave him a kiss on the forehead which he returned to you

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

Jesse🎨

He cant help but have a big smile on his face when he sees you acting clumsy with his 2 kids

His kids LOVE you so much

Which they starter to call you "mommy" which almost made Jesse cry of happiness

When you accidently drop something, he would always be there to help you

He's always watching you, making sure you dont axt to clumsy and fall, or gwt hurt

He loves seeing his lover being clumsy with him

Like you poking him alot or pinching his teasingly

He doesnt mind cause his kids do it too

He is such a good catcher

Like when you are shakingly holding your coffee, almost about to skill it

Jesse helps you drink it for you (what a gentleman🥰)

"Oh, thanks Jesse!" you say akwardly

You both dont realize that the kids are watching you both having a moment

"No problem baby, im always here for you." he says, stroking your cheek

Hes gets close to you for a kiss buat the laughter of his kids scare him

"Daddy's gonna kiss mommyyyyy!" they sing songed

You couldnt help but giggle cause of how cute they are, teasing they're daddy

"Alright alright time for bed now, go on." he tells the kids.

While the kids we're in theyre rooms, he turns to look at you

"Now, where we're we?"

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

thx so much for the request! I enjoyed writing this😭🖤

-Milexa

#turning red #4 town #4townie #turning red x reader #4town #4town x reader #disney fanfiction #taeyoung #robaire turning red #4town jesse #aaron t x reader #aaron z

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shorkbrian · 3 years ago

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Kiri’s lil sis (or step sis?) thirsting after her big brother’s cool best friend Bakugo, always trying to join them going anywhere and sit next to bakugo/on his lap with kiri being so oblivious to your advances until one day you practically throw yourself at bakugo to hang out just one and one.. You get all dolled up only to find out jealous kiri finds out about your little date and has to show you how he’s manly enough for whatever you need, that your his

oh my god

Kiri is fine to hang out with Bakugou, fine with calling him his friend, but seeing you tripping over yourself to try and gain Bakugou's approval? It makes his blood boil.

Especially since Kiri has heard Katsuki talk about girls when it's just the boys hanging out, how bakugou likes playing with 'em and what kind of rough, degrading shit he subjects them to. Kirishima is almost taken aback, but hey, to each their own.

Imagining Bakugou doing all that to his sweet little sister sickens him.

To find out that you went behind your older brother's back, batted your eyelashes and pushed your chest out while asking Katsuki if he would take you to get coffee, or food, or what-fucking-ever makes Kirishima grit his teeth and clench his fists.

Especially since he comes downstairs to see you primping in the mirror, with the shortest skirt you own barely covering your ass, nipples poking through the tiny, thin little crop top you're wearing.

"Where ya going?" He can't help but ask, eyes raking over you, a 'lil confused. He likes the view, but you shouldn't be dressed like that, it's inappropriate.

"I'm gonna go hang out with Katsuki." You're barely paying your brother any attention, making sure your makeup looks good enough, leaning forward to dab at your lipstick. Kirishima can't help but stare as your skirt rides up more, showing off a little glimpse of pale pink panties.

"No you aren't, not dressed like that." He decides quickly, a blush rising to his cheeks. He's not some doddling virgin, panties really aren't that revolutionary of a sight to him, but to see your panties, well-

"You're not dad, you can't tell me what to do." Your answer is so cheeky, so bratty, and Kirishima knows you're acting up, already trying to act older than you are so you'll look cool in Bakugou's eyes.

He's having none of it.

Two strides and he's grabbing you by your elbow, hand completely encompassing your little arm. Kiri likes the almost-frightened gasp that spills out of your mouth as he yanks you close, staring down at you with knitted brows.

"You aren't going anywhere near Katsuki, he's bad news for pretty girls like you. I'm not letting him put his hands on my little sister."

Wide eyes stare back at him. "Let me go, I'm not a little kid anymore!" You shake yourself out of his grip (only because he lets you) before you smooth out your outfit with a huff. "I know what I'm doing."

Kirishima frowns. "Do you? Really?" He's irritated now. You don't know what you're getting yourself into. You don't know how Bakugou's going to treat you, going to rough you up and make you cry, drop you off home afterwards and leave Kirishima to clean up the mess he's made of you.

"You're not going."

"I don't have to do what you say Kiri." You point out. "Just 'cause mom and dad aren't home doesn't mean you get to control me. Dad said it was fine when I asked him earlier."

Your brother huffs, moves behind you until his bulk is blocking the front door, your exit. "Dad barely knows who Bakugou is. I said you aren't going, and that's final."

"Kirishima-" You're angry, eyes blazing as you stare him down. "Get out of my way."

Look at you, trying to be all tough and bossy. Bakugou would destroy you, and Kirishima can't, won't have that happen.

"He's not gentle, y'know." The redhead starts off nonchalantly, propelling his body towards your with a few easy steps.

"He'll grab you like this-" A hand at your throat, squeezing too tight for your comfort and immediately you're scrabbling at his arm, wheezing for Kiri to stop. "And he'll just laugh when you do that."

"He'll bend you over the most convenient surface, see?" He's shoving you into the kitchen, making you stumble backwards before your brother spins you around, slams you over the counter. Your toes are barely touching the ground, head spinning from the rough treatment. What was Kiri - your sweet, goofy brother - doing?

"Probably'll make fun of what you're wearing. I mean seriously, are you trying to look like a slut?" Kirishima slaps your ass where it's exposed by your tiny skirt, and you yelp, trying to scramble away. But Kirishima easily grabs your waist, keeps you in place and kicks your legs apart before forcing himself between them.

"I can see your panties, and your breasts in this little getup. Bakugou doesn't like easy girls, thinks they deserve to get fucked real rough. You ready for that?" Kirishima doesn't bother with your skirt, it's so short it's not even in his way as he runs his fingers over your panties, snapping the waistband against your skin. You're so warm.

Then a hand pushes up your shirt until it's over your chest, and your tits are smushed against the counter as Kirishima presses you flat against it. "Y'know, he might not even prep you. A real gentleman would make sure you're ready first, maybe make you cum a few times before even think of getting inside you, but not Katsuki. He'll shove in dry, tear you up and make you bleed all over the place."

Fingers push the crotch of your panties to the side, and you're whining, crying into the counter now. Begging Kirishima to stop only makes him chuckle darkly, and suddenly you feel the heat of his crotch as he presses against you, grinds the bulge in his jeans against your core.

"Crying is only gonna make him treat you worse. You know he doesn't like crybabies. You gonna cry for him just like this when he splits you apart? You'll make him go soft sweetie."

It's only when you hear the sound of a zipper do you truly start to thrash, truly scared and cowed. "I get it, I get it! 'M sorry Kiri, I won't go, I won't!" You cry, legs kicking as you push up against his hand, trying to get off the counter where he has you pinned.

Kirishima lets out a noncommittal hum, enjoying the way your frantic movement is stimulating his cock where it's pressed to your cute little pussy. You're even starting to get a bit wet, darkening his jeans.

"Please! Let me go, I'll listen, I swear-" You beg, cries choking your throat.

It feels like forever until Kiri steps away from you, lets you push yourself off the cold counter and pull your shirt over your chest, push your panties back into place and tug down your skirt.

When you turn to look at him, Kirishima almost feels bad about your puffy eyes and the tears running down your face. Almost.

"C'mere-" Is all he offers instead of an apology, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. He's still hard in his jeans.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt, that's all." Your brother explains, rubbing your shoulder as you sniffle against his chest. "Bakugou isn't boyfriend material, got it? Especially not for someone who hasn't even had their first kiss."

He can feel you nodding in understanding against him.

"I'll text him that you won't be coming, okay? Go upstairs and change. Maybe we can watch a movie or something." A pat to your head as you turn away from him, little hands wiping at the tears on your face as you start to walk away.

Kiri can still see your panties with every step you take, ass bouncing.

He's going to text Katsuki, tell him that you're completely off limits. Maybe later tonight he'll send the blonde a video to really cement that fact, you on your knees, sucking his cock. Or maybe a few different pictures of your cunt as he presses inside, a few more showing him teasing your clit with the head of his dick.

That'll get the message across, not only to Bakugou, but to you.

Kirishima's the only one that gets to touch you

Ever.

#tw.nsfw #tw.dubcon #tw.dc #tw.incest #tw.dark content #tw.noncon #dark kirishima #yandere #yandere kirishima #Kirishima eijirou #banana fish eiji #eijiro kirishima smut #smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha

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ererokii · 4 years ago

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Sooo... This request thing. You're aweosme 👉👈

Ooh boy it's a long one (changed it a bit)

-Erens so cute when he purrs and when you mention his curiosity and twitching ears ears and gentle touch, so as not to hurt the reader.

-when he kinda is paying attention to, analysing the reader or protecting them its SO cute

-It would maybe end as like cuddles and things and just... Talking. To him and him grunting or just nodding or thinking replies.

-Maybe be at night.

-Maybe it would start with... Eren In human form.

-Maybe he figures out that you don't think his titan form is so ugly but still a little new and scary and that maybe you like it

- Bam if you can somehow NSFW that... Uhmm?

So he... Turns into a titan and then. Some NSFW or just. Maybe he like. Scares or teases the reader on purpose for a reaction?

-And then NSFW somehow if you wanna put that in. Sorry for the way I type I'm kinda doing it as it all appears in my head lol

-I like your cute, and desperate eren, but also attentive and caring. I haven't seen you write a very cheeky or playful titan eren so maybe that would be nice.

I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING THIS ONE. Here you monsterfuckers, take your TITAN SMUT.

WARNINGS: MONSTERFUCKING. Oral (f receiving), mention of voyeurism, overstimulation, dumbification, multiple orgasms, edging, characters are 18+.

If these themes make you uncomfortable or you rather avoid, please block the tag “AOT SMUT” WC: 1.7K

Also thank you to the amazing @galair for this beautiful art🥺 everyone go check her out

Eren stays deep within his thoughts as he hums to himself, staring up at the starry sky. His loose strands tickle the shell of his ear, itching to scratch away at it but refuses. He can’t recall the conversation before the silence. It’s always been on his mind, but he’s been inquisitive as to what you saw him as, even if he knew the answer.

Am I a monster to you? Or am I just like you?

You knew Eren was quite insecure with himself when it came to his titan powers; no matter how many times he asked you that, you always gave him the same answer.

You were never a monster; you’re just a broken human like me.

For some reason, that has never failed to put a smile on his face. Being able to categorize himself with humans made him feel complete, separate from the monster people used to call him when he discovered the powers.

But know that he’s aware (once again) of how you feel, does he scare you?

Maybe he could ask you--, but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood at all. Now that he thinks of it, he can’t recollect a moment where you’ve seemed scared to be in his presence, unlike other comrades who look like they’ll leak themselves any moment.

Without even thinking, he blurts out the question. His eyes widen slightly when he realizes the words slipped past his lips.

“Am I scared of your titan form?” you ask, glancing over at him as you sit up, staring down at him from your position. “I mean, it is always somewhat overwhelming to see something so much bigger than me, and when I sit in your hands but no, besides that, I'm not.”

“Do you think it’s ugly?”

“I don’t,” you say with a smile, legs crisscrossed. “I think it’s unique. You know, just for you. I think it’s quite cute and--” you trail off, glancing over to the side. “--somewhat hot,” you cough in between words, hoping he missed that.

“Hot?” he asks, a hint of smugness evident in his tone.” You think it’s hot?” he leans up on his elbows, a smirk curled at his lips. “Why is that?”

“W-Well, I’m not going to tell you that! That’s too personal.”

“What if I turned right now?”

“Y-You can’t! Captain Levi and Hanji would come to chew you out if you did!”

“Hanji gave me the go-ahead to transform whenever I wanted to, just not to cause destruction,” he gets up with a grunt, backing up a few feet back. By the time he was in position before you could speak, lightning struck the earth, the ground crumbling from the shock.

You dug your fingers into the ground, lowering your head from the gusts of wind. In no time, it calmed down as you avert your gaze upward, emeralds stare down at you from high above, brown tresses swooshing in the air.

“You did,” you breathed out, releasing your grip on the dirt. Your hands are unsteady, still trying to compose yourself from the sudden change.

He’s not moving, standing as still as a statue before he drops to his knees, the birds sound asleep in the trees now awake and flying away from the commotion. Your heart feels as if it could burst from the confinements of your chest.

Your left eye peeks open, cowering within yourself. Your body freezes when you see how close he is. His body is lowered to the ground; knees pushed in like a Sphinx. His eyes glow in the darkness, a new feeling taking over your body.

His heavy breathing fans over your face, his head cocked to the side as if he was examining your small figure. He finds humor in your expression, nudging your body with his nose.

From the small force added, it caused your body to get pushed back. His ears twitch, the tips sticking upward. He moves forward, doing it once more.

“Eren, quit it,” you huff, sticking your arms out to keep him from doing it again-- which he’ll end up doing too. There’s no doubt that in that nape, he’s having the time of his life.

He wonders what else he can do like this. He thinks for a minute, noises emitting from his throat. He sticks one of his hands out, shakily raising a finger, and places his hands in between your legs.

He catches your gaze, his tongue peeking as he leans forward, barely pressing the tip against the bare skin of your neck. The new sensation causes your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, eyeing the pink flesh before gulping lowly.

Eren pulls away, looking at your skirt that happened to ride up your legs. His eyes seem to darken as his mouth closes, teeth grinding against each other.

“Eren?” you question him as he inches closer, his head lowering slightly to the ground. You’re about to call for him again, but his tongue makes an appearance also, pushing the material up more. Your eyes enlarge, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt-- to which looks like fear in his eyes.

A noise of somewhat sadness comes from him, his ears lowering.

“N-No, it’s okay, Eren,” you stutter, face heating up from his motions. If you were honest, you could feel a small wetness pool in between your legs.

Before you know it, the tip of his tongue is in between your legs, the muscle lapping over your clothed cunt. Your arms are shaky as you let out a little gasp that sounds so cute to his ears; he can’t help but circle it around your clit.

A predatory look is in his eyes, looking down like you were his meal. The muscle goes sound, poking at your slicked entrance. Panting, you glance down at the position and pull your panties aside, shivering from the chilly wind and hot breathing in between your legs.

His jaw slacked; he works wonders on your needy cunt. The texture and saliva are enough to make you sensitive on the spot. Your eyes roll back as you chant his name, his tongue licking stripes up and down your folds, squelching noises occurring from his rapid movement.

Your legs are shaking from the overwhelming sensation. God, it’s becoming too much, but you can’t stop him, nor if you wanted to. You felt as if you would fall to the depths of the earth but yet stayed in reality.

The tip flicks at your folds, an incoherent noise getting stuck in the back of your throat when he begins to move it side to side rather than up and down.

You’re so needy for him at this point. You want him to stuff your tight cunt with his cock, to feel him stretch you out as he fucks you to no end. Having him do this to you was on another level of ecstasy, but you would accept it if this came up again.

The pressure he puts on your fragile body is enough to send you backward, but the way your heels dig into the ground and his gentle touches prevent that from happening. The slick left in between your thighs trickle down to your ass; the feeling becomes uncomfortable but erotic.

“Fuck baby,” you whisper, head falling back, staring up at the sky with lidded eyes. “Fuu..p-please don’t stop,” you slur, thoughts clouding with nothing but immense pleasure.

God, what if someone caught you? The adrenaline running through your body wouldn’t even let you care about that. But the thought of someone hearing you moan out pathetically as Eren licks away at your cunt, have you moaning out.

You wouldn’t be surprised if someone overheard. Eren’s tongue was a gift that meant to be cherished, even if that meant having him do this every day for you to get used to the sticky yet warmth radiating from the muscle.

The inside of your legs trembles, your head spinning in circles, rubbing small lazy circles on your puffy clit, desperate to be touched by his tongue. Your hole was being circled, his tongue barely pressing before retracting; the little shit was teasing you.

One of his fingers gently places over your leg to keep you from moving so much. His finger alone is enough to make you feel weighed down.

Your lips are moving, but nothing is coming out; no noise, no words. You’re completely out of it. Your fingers are clenching and unclenching around nothing, barely holding onto whatever it was you were. If someone were to ask you what day it was, you wouldn’t be able to tell the time of day or where you were at.

“ ‘M gonna cum,” your voice comes out soft yet needy, shifting your hips side to side, bucking your hips to the best of your ability. “I wanna cum on your tongue.”

His eyes flicker, a stripe licked up between your folds before resting on your clit-- a place that desperately needs attention.

Your delicate body is on the brink of defeat; an orgasm after orgasm washes over your body, and he shows no signs of stopping. You’re practically gushing at this point, your juices running down his jaw. You’ve made many feeble attempts to push him away; a growl would emit from him when you tried to do so.

Sweat trickles down your face into your clothes, causing the front of your shirt to stick onto your skin—short breaths of air, hiccups erupting from your throat. Your eyes roll back as your body finally gives out, falling backward onto his hand that was keeping you upright.

As you fall, a purring sound reaches your ears as his tongue finally retracts from your mess cunt, his eyes glancing at your slick sticking to you. His finger rubs the inside of your thigh, gently wiping away the transparent substance. His ears flicker as he listens to your heavy breathing, trying your best to catch the air that was taken away from you.

He lovingly nuzzles his nose against your patella, his dark tresses tickling your supple skin. After being pushed through multiple orgasms, you weren’t even sure if you could walk or get up from this position.

But he finally got his answer as to why you thought he was hot.

Taglist: @trafalgar-temptress @galair @shisoaya @eremiie @bakuhoesworld @sweetdanibear @blueelionn @grabakitcata @erenstellar @onyxoverride @vinishsama @cellarhapsodos @connieswifey @murmikaa (please message me to be added!!)

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader smut #Eren Jaeger x reader smut #tw: monster fucking #Titan Eren #Titan Eren smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on Titan x reader #shingeki no Kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren imagines #eren Jaeger imagines #aot smut

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no-droids · 4 years ago

Text

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!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #star wars #fanfic #reader insert #no-droids

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maizumis · 4 years ago

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— HAIKYUU BOYS AND THEIR CHILDS

ft. timeskip!bokuto koutaro, iwaizumi hajime, suna rintaro, tsukkishima kei, osamu miya

tw: FOOD IN OSAMU AND SUNA

note: this is a part two of the baby fever one cause I crave for them as daddies, pls spare some babies

•BOKUTO fell in love with your daughter the moment he first saw her, without believing he made this tiny cute human, his and your tiny cute human. he made sure to cherish all the momenta his daughter had; chest full of pride when she came home with a draw of his family that she made on the daycare, happyly exclaiming how she 'was so excited, cos her family is full of love'. the moment that is gonna be always in his heart, appart from the day she was born, was after an away game, after you told him you two couldn't go to cheer on him, his hair deflated, eyes getting a little teary but he needed to be strong for the two of you, for his family; spiking the last point, the winning point, he went to hug and congratulate his teammates, the scream of 'daddy' and two little arms barely hugging is thigh caught him off guard "girl! you are here! you are here!" getting emotional, his family was what he needed at that moment, picking up his little girl with one arm, he saw you walking toward them "tell dada we are proud of him" the child went for a open mouth kiss on his cheek "we proud of you dad! vewy proud"

•IWAIZUMI woke up with the feeling of two tiny hands around his neck and you curled up to his side, being the morning person he is, he got up and made some coffee to start the day with the right foot "daddy?" it was so early for a tiny voice to be up "bud what are you doing here? it's really really early, look, the sun is just saying hi to us" clearly his child didn't gave him attention, carrying his tiny feet and extending his arms to his dad "but I wanna be with you, we can watch a movie too" iwaizumi gives up at his child charms, he is just so cute "go to the couch, daddy is gonna end making breakfast and go with you, yeah?" before answering his son have a him a kiss where his petit body lets him, right in the middle of the keg " ‘m gonna be waiting for you dada! we can watch that movie that you like, the one we have the matching pijamas!" hajime is barely understanding what his son is telling him "Godzilla?" his short legs dragging him to the living room to have a special daddy-son morning "uh-huh! that gusila you like!"

•SUNA founded himself in the kitchen, trying to cook a decent meal that osamu gave to him, his skills in the kitchen are not the best you could tell. his chubby baby was next to him in his special chair, watching some cartoons "okay angel, I think this is ready" he only got a 'hmph' from the child in front of him "we don't tell about this to anyone, bit we are eating on the couch today" wasn't he trusting himself for keeping a secret? a baby wouldn't spill it out if they can't talk. Lunch went smoothly with some random kids show in the back "God your appetite makes me remember of your uncle ‘samu in highschool, he wouldn't stop eating" a burp, he received a burp, his daughter giggling after it, clapping her tiny hands at beat as she could "you know what Missy, since you already burped yourself we are gonna take a quick nap right here" he putted the dishes to wash, looked for a cosy cover and ploped to the couch again, with his little girl on muscular chest already closing her eyes "so happy" he pecks her head with just a little bit of brown hair "so happy to have you with me"

•TSUKKI took his pretty daughter to the park, after a busy day at home, they deserved some good air "uh daddy, imma go to the swings" he lets her down on the ground, fixing her cute lilac dress "okay, do you need help?" she vigurolsy shakes her head from left to right "I already learned! I'm a big girl after all, watch me, your gonna be surprised daddy" he smiled at her and have her a nod so she could go running to the swings. Tsukishimas eyes saw a cute scene in front of him, his daughter was teaching a boy around her age to go back and forth on the swings, he couldn't be prouder of his little girl, his life took a 180° spin once she was born but since then, he couldn't be more grateful. "Daddy! guess who made this flower crown!" she's cute with that, he thinka "mmmmm, I don't know, why don't you tell me" nodding, she extended her fingers, pointing to the boy she was teaching a while ago, "him! we are married now, he is my husband" no, no, no, that it's not gonna happen on his watch "how sweet, go tell the boy goodbye and we are going home" "but—" "no buts, daddy needs to tell you something before dating"

•OSAMU woke up before his two little angels, knowing they would wake up in anytime, he made his way toward the kitchen, with just his sweatpants on, to make some breakfast. your pretty baby boy already opened his eyes, ready to spend a lazy Sunday at home with his family "do you smeel that little boy? dad is making some yummy food" grabbing him by his plump body, you get the two of you out of bed, peeping from the end of the hall you whisper at his ear "look who's there" his little giggles made osamu look at their way "dada! that's dada" now clapping with his little fingers interlacing with each other "da-da, dada!" osamu hums, happy to see his bundle of joy "grab him ‘samu, I wanna go shower before eating" he takes the child of your arms and pecks your lips "not even good morning? ya look good in ma t-shirt" playful smack on his chest, kiss on you child cheeks before taking your leave to the bathroom "I always look good in you clothes, my dear husband"

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reidsnose · 4 years ago

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Young and Beautiful

overview: spencer and reader spend the day together and feel like little kids again

genre: fluff

a/n: ok i think this concept is so cute but i feel like i wrote it dumb LMAO but its fine i'm excited tho lmk if y'all like it at all :)

masterlist

the setting sun peaked through the trees as you and Spencer walked around aimlessly. it wasn't often that you had days off, let alone enough to spend together. and the city was curiously empty, the usual bustle of the day having died down by evening. most people are itching to go home on a random Wednesday night.

"i really don't like the look of those clouds y/n." Spencer warned, pointing towards a large, dark gray cloud.

"i already told you i checked the weather and they said no rain!" you countered, though you had to admit the cloud looked pretty hefty. "it will probably just pass us over."

he hummed a hesitant agreement and carried on with the conversation you two were having. you looked around as the two of you talked, taking in the peace of the moment. the light breeze, the the hum of distant cars as you neared a park, the way the sunlight sparkled in Spencer's eyes as he talked, a golden tint covering the world around you.

he watched you soaking up the beauty around you, wondering if you ever saw your own. you were truly the most beautiful person alive. inside and out. he smiled to himself as your eyes lingering on the empty playground.

"you wanna go to the playground?" he asked, your eyes lighting up.

"is that weird? like were fully adults why is that twisty slide calling my name?" you giggled.

in a surge of confidence, he grabbed your hand and started running towards the playground with you, the rouge on your cheeks masked by the flush of a quick run. when he was around you, he felt like a kid again. you did too.

you tried not to think about how your hand tingled from holding his. it was only a couple of seconds and probably meant nothing, but you couldn't shed that wonderful feeling.

you guys raced to the slide, giggling like a bunch of school kids at recess. he beat you to the twisty slide, climbing quickly to the top and sliding down head first right off the end. you followed immediately after, arms stretched in front of you like superman and landing on the floor next to him.

"God, this reminds me of making a 'best friend' every time i went to the playground as a kid," you laughed, standing up and offering him a hand.

"cant say i relate to that," he chuckled, grabbing your outstretched hand and hoisting himself off the ground, sending a surge of electricity through his veins.

"oh come on! you never met another kid at the park and you two swore to be best friends forever and then never saw each other again?"

"nope," he replied, popping the p, "i didn't go to the playground much when i was little, nor was i the most sociable kid."

"hmm..." you hummed, "well i think you need to experience that."

he chuckled, but this time it was your turn to grab his hand and lead him somewhere. you two ran to get under the jungle gym, his long legs struggling to fit underneath.

"what are we doing under here?" he laughed, grunting as he pulled on his legs so he could sit criss cross.

"you're making your first ever playground best friend." you answered simply, sticking out your pinky. "do you...state your full name.."

"Spencer Walter Reid." he laughed, looping his pinky with yours.

"do you Spencer Walter Reid pinky promise that we will be best friends forever and ever?" you asked, trying hard to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

"i do." he answered, shaking your intertwined pinkies up and down after he was met with silence.

"ok now ask me," you whispered.

"do you...state your full name.." he echoed.

"y/f/n." you giggled.

"do you y/f/n pinky promise that we will be best friends forever and ever?" he asked, stifling a smile.

"i do." you answered, pinkies still linked in front of you.

"ok now what?" he whispered.

"by the power vested in me by this playground, i now pronounce us best friends forever. we may now kiss our thumbs." you announced.

he laughed confused and you both leaned in, pecking your own thumbs on the pinky promise hand, only the distance of your linked hands between your lips.

he blurted a fact on the history of kissing, how it was used in the olden days to seal the deal. he also mentioned how all the pinky promises he's ever done never involved him kissing his thumb, you laughed and said that it must be a Vegas thing.

you two used just about every piece of playground equipment, truly feeling like little kids again. giggling and screaming and being immature, your inner children completely taking over.

a clap of thunder interrupted you two while taking turns jumping off of the swings. your eyes grew wide as you looked at each other, recalling how you swore it wasn't going to rain.

just as you opened your mouth to say it still might not rain, it started absolutely pouring. the both of you were drenched in seconds, grabbing haphazardly onto eachothers hands and breaking out into a sprint, running as fast as both of you could in the direction of Spencer's apartment (which was much closer than yours).

but he did not have the long distance endurance, and to be honest neither did you and after a few minutes of running, you guys were still about half a mile away, huffing and puffing and soaking wet.

Spencer wasn't sure if most of his breath was lost from running, or from holding onto you this long. maybe a mix of both?

"lets just walk! were soaked already so who cares!" he shouted over the pitter patter of the storm, still hand and hand with you.

"who are you and what have you done with Spencer," you laughed, lifting your joined hands above you and twirling underneath.

he only chuckled a response, this time he lifted your intertwined hands allowing you to twirl again, humming a classical piece horribly off key.

the two of you started dancing down the sidewalk, spinning and jumping and swaying and leaping and laughing til you could barely stand. his lanky limbs flying left and right as you took turns humming different styles of music, even opting for an Irish jig at one point. and all in the pouring rain.

this was arguably the most fun either of you had ever had and we all know what happens to time when you're enjoying yourself. before you knew it you guys had arrived at his apartment.

water dripped from the both of you as you ran up the stairs, slipping and sliding all over the place.

"let me give you some of my clothes to change into so you don't have to drive home all soaked," he offered, unlocking the door and beckoning you to come inside.

"thanks bestie," you giggled, suppressing a shiver as you stepped inside.

he grabbed two towels, handing you one as you followed him into his room and watched him searching his dresser for something to give you.

he gave you a pair of sweatpants and told you to pick any sweater you wanted, causing you both to turn a deep shade of red as you realized you were sharing clothes.

he grabbed some clothes for himself and went to go change in the bathroom, letting you use his bedroom for more privacy. it was always the little things he did for you that made your heart burst.

you pulled his sweater over your head, taking in the smell of him that lingered on it. you smiled to yourself as you did, realizing you're already close enough with him to recognize it.

you finished changing and walked out of his room, seeing him reading on his couch, lounging in comfy clothes.

the sight of you in his clothes left him speechless, he imagined if you two were dating this might be a common occurrence. he shook his head of the thought and stood up as you offered him a smile, grabbing your keys off of the counter.

"thank you for today Spencer, it was.." you looked up at him trying not to get lost in his eyes, "..so much fun."

"thank you for making me feel like a kid again, there aren't many people who can do that. i don't know what i would do without you" he smiled, stepping slightly closer to you.

you couldn't believe your ears, or what was about to come toppling out of your mouth. he was just being so sweet and sentimental, your brain short circuited.

"love you forever." you blurted, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

to your surprise (and delight), he stuck out his pinky, which you gladly looped with your own.

"love you more." he professed, leaning in to kiss his thumb.

him admitting this gave you an incredible rush of confidence and as you both went in to seal the deal of the pinky promise, you tightened your pinky with his and pulled your hands down, pecking his lips with your own.

it was a quick kiss but you still felt like you were on top of the world.

Spencer barely had time to process what had happened before it was already over. he couldn't believe it. the perfect kiss with the most perfect girl and he nearly missed it.

he pulled you back for one more, slightly longer kiss, just to make sure. you both smiled into it, floating around on cloud nine.

you pulled away and smiled widely at his lovesick face before giving a small wave and walking out the door, scampering down the stairs and out to your parked car.

he snapped out of his daze and ran to the window, waving goodbye to you with the worlds dopiest smile on his face. it dropped suddenly as he realized he never truly asked you out on a date.

"y/n!" he called from the window. you looked back up at him and waved, "do you wanna go out this weekend?"

you laughed before calling back at him, "its a date!"

ultra mega super cool taglist

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc @sydnee-kom-spacekru

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inkandpen22 · 3 years ago

Text

Dazed and Confused ( S1: 3/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild language and violence

Word Count: 3.1k

Part Summary: At Tina’s party, Y/N wants to forget all of her problems. Things take a turn when Billy makes a move on her, angering Steve

Masterlist

Arriving at Tina’s after dropping Dustin at Mike’s, I am in much need of some good old spiked punch. I yank down my gray oversized sweatshirt some more so that it hangs low off my shoulder. As I cross the threshold into the house, the heat of the crowded living room slaps me in the face. Directly to my left, the kitchen AKA the alcohol hub. I slip between bodies and end up at the counter covered with semi-empty bottles and old plastic cups. Most importantly, a bowl of maroon punch sits in the corner. I grab a cup and make my way over. A boy stands in front of it but I reach around him and scoop up some of the mystery substance.

“What’s in this?” I hear a voice holler behind me.

I turn around to answer but freeze when I realize it’s Nancy. She stares at me equally stunned. My face falls, this is awkward. Seriously universe? I couldn’t have at least one drink before bumping into her?

Steve appears behind her looking slick as ever in his black sunglasses and matching blazer.

“Everclear is my guess,” I answer, acting civil.

She nods timidly, “thanks…”

I step out of her way so she can get some of her own. Steve’s head travels up and down slowly with a blank expression. I can’t see his eyes but I assume he’s studying my costume. A gray oversized sweatshirt that hangs off the shoulder, red heels, matching earrings, and some shorts, though they’re unnoticeable. I can feel him starring me down through those stupid Ray-Bans. Silently, I beg for him to not bring up our encounter in the parking lot. All I wish for tonight is to drown out reality and try to forget. He’s a human ticking time bomb. The tension between us could be cut with a knife.

“Are you finally going to tell me what you are?” Nancy jumps in, forcing me to break my staring contest with her boyfriend.

I open my mouth to answer but Steve beats him to it.

“Flashdance,” he answers for me. “It’s one of her favorites.”

He acts distant, unattached, distracted by the party but I see right through it. There’s something he’s not saying. He says things like this as if it’s common knowledge. A random person wouldn’t describe my eyes as Y/E/C but gray depending on the lighting. One minute, he calls my eyes beautiful and the next he’s starring me down like a disapproving parent. The hell Harrington?!

Nancy gushes, apparently she and I are okay all of a sudden, despite early today with the whole Barb thing. Plus, I think she’s already been drinking for awhile so buzzed Nancy is fun Nancy.

“That’s so cute! You look hot!” She pulls me into a hug.

Over her shoulder, I glimpse up at Steve as he lifts his glasses to rest of his head. His brown eyes threaten to expose my upset from earlier. I get that he’s pissed about my neglect for my feelings. He wants to talk about what was wrong but right now we’re at a party and parties aren’t meant for depressing conversations.

“Let’s go dance!” Nancy suggests, already tugging me into the living room.

Steve calls after her but she ignores him. He follows behind us through the crowd with a groan. In the center of the living room, Nancy stops and turns to me with a bright grin. She cheers as she tosses her head back.

“Woohoo!” She laughs.

This is what I wanted, normalcy. We’re surrounded by our friends, drinking, dancing, being stupid! We did this before everything so why can’t we do it now? Perhaps after tonight, everything will fall back into place.

_______________________________________

On my third game of flip-cup, I’m beyond buzzed. In fact, when I walk I float. I’m on cloud nine. Here, this carefree and lively state is exactly where I wanted to be. Naturally, I’m competitive and amazing at drinking games so I finish my third game with yet another win. I cheer as Tommy from algebra hands me a cup of who knows what as my reward.

“Hey there beautiful,” a husky voice greets from behind me.

I spin around and kind of become dizzy from the action but catch myself.

It’s Billy.

“Hey hottie,” I smirk.

He snickers and closes the space between us to whisper in my ear. “How about you and I go somewhere a little more private?”

That’s a nice thought. He is cute. His ass could have its own zip code. Plus, he has no shirt on under that leather jacket, hello washboard like abs. His California tanned skin glistens under a thin layer of sweat. Damn, he’s a human Ken doll.

He’s no Steve though. Wait… what? I don’t think of Steve like that. Why would I think that? Um, yeah, that’s a no! Then again, Steve is always there for me. Sometimes it can be annoying how he’s always there. It means he cares but I don’t want to dump all of my drama on him. Then, he gets upset when I don’t open up. I hate it when I hurt him. I love him so much that when he’s in pain so am I.

“Okay,” I blurt out without truly thinking.

“Cool,” I hear him whisper as he takes my hand and starts pulling me toward the stairs across the room.

Wait, what? What am I doing? This isn’t me. I don’t like Billy. He treats Steve like shit. If anything I should kick his pretty ass. Though if I tried he’d probably murder me.

I glance down at his hand engulfing mine. It’s all rough and twice the size of my own. If we make it upstairs, it’ll be just him and I. I’ll be defenseless. I may be drunk but I’m not oblivious. My intuition is still working and it’s screaming for me to pull my shit together.

“Hey Billy? I don’t think…” I press my heels into the floor, slowing him down just as we reach the bottom of the stairs.

Aggressively, he whips around and purposefully towers over me to act intimidating. “What? Now, you’re saying no? Are you messing me? Playing with me!” He accuses.

I shake my head dramatically, “no! No, that’s not what-”

“Oh, so you still want to do this,” he presses.

Too impatient for an answer, he continues up the stairs. The grip he has on me has shifted up to my wrist. I attempt to tug myself free but fear dislocating it, his strength is too great. I stumble up the stairs behind me and I startle to feel dizzy. I think it’s safe to say I’ve had too much.

“No,” I whine, “I don’t want to! Stop! Please! I don’t want to! No!”

“Hey!” A booming voice echoes from the bottom of the stairs.

Rapid footsteps approach from behind me and a rush of relief consumes me when Steve appears beside me. He places a protective hand on my back.

“What the hell is going here?” He directs at Billy, taking note of his fist wrapped around my wrist.

“Nothing that concerns you, Harrington. Y/N and I were just heading upstairs.” He jolts his hand forward, causing me to traveling with it.

Steve instantly pries Billy’s hand from my body. Then, shoves him in the back, flying him forward to land with his ass on the stairs. “Don’t you ever touch her again! You hear me?!” He sneers. His face turns this deep red as he pants angrily.

The two start bickering but I can’t keep up. I see three Steves and a couple Billys shouting in each other’s faces. I lean against the railing unsteadily and slide down to sit on the steps. My eyes suddenly feel very heavy.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” I announce to no one in particular.

I decide to get some rest and shut my eyes. It’s okay, Steve’s here. He’ll protect me.

I’m not sure how much time has past when I hear Tommy and some of the other basketball boys come to break up the fight.

“Come on Y/N,” I hear Steve whisper to me, “let’s get you home.”

Feeling as light as a feather, I’m picked up like a sleepy child off the ground. For a moment, I fall asleep again. I rest my head on his chest and ponder the rare opportunity to sleep without being afraid of being eaten by a monster.

“Y/N?” I hear someone repeatedly call my name. “Y/N, wake up!”

I ease open my eyes and at first my vision is blurry but then they eventually adjust. Steve glances down at me as he we cross the threshold hold to the front yard.

“You smell like sunshine and all things exquisite,” I mumble to myself, adjusting myself in his arms to curl closer to his warmth.

“Even when hammered you still manage to be a walking thesaurus,” he teases.

Opps, he heard me. Oh well, I wasn’t lying. He smells like vanilla, the ocean, sugar, spice, and everything nice.

Goosebumps course over my skin as a brisk October breeze hits me. I shiver slightly and Steve holds me closer.

“We’re almost to my car. I’ll turn on the heat high. You’re okay,” he promises calmly.

Playing the hero, Steve places me into the passenger seat gently and straps me in. I toss my head to the side and rest my eyes again. He shuts the door for me before jogging to the driver’s side. The car drowns out the sound of chaos coming from the party and creates a sense of security. Steve slides behind the wheel and for some reason I choose now to act reasonable.

“Have you been drinking? If so, you shouldn’t drive,” I state like a health textbook.

He chuckles, popping in the keys. “I’m sober. Promise.”

“That’s nice. Good to know,” I yawn.

The last thing I can remember of the ride home is Steve turning on the car.

______________________________________

I wake up silently as Steve pulls up in front of my house. He’s unaware of my stare as he finishes parking and turning off the car.

“Hazel,” I tell him, announcing my woken state.

He looks to me with scrunched eyebrows, all confused. It’s cute when he does that. He’s cute. Geez, what the heck am I saying? He’s dating my best friend! Steve is Steve and Katherine, we don’t mix, at least that way.

“What?” He questions, turning to face me.

“Your eyes… they’re hazel…” I repeat softly with a yawn. “But, it really depends on the lighting.”

He snickers, and astonished expression blesses his features. The subtle blush forming on his cheeks makes me smile to see him all bashful because of my comment. He has no idea how gorgeous we truly is, inside and out. He glances down at his lap, at his hands fidgeting with a button on his jacket, then back up at me with hooded eyes.

“See, right now!” I point out, “they’re a dark brown like a burnt caramel, basically black. When you’re really focused on a task or upset about something, they go dark. Then, when you’re really happy or excited, they turn to a light hazel… like seaglass. It’s how I can tell if something’s bothering you. You don’t even have to tell me half the time. All I have to do is look into your eyes and I know,” I state a matter-of-factly with a light snicker.

I shift you see him directly and tuck a few strands of my hair away from my face. He watches my every move patiently, eagerly, for me to say something more, anything. I can’t speak for him but my heart won’t stop racing. Is it possible to have stage fright in a conversation? I feel like a mannequin, on display. Nervously, I twirl my hair at the ends and find myself unable to meet his gaze anymore.

“Your pupils are rarely small,” I add quietly. “They’re usually really big and take up most of your eye giving off the illusion they’re black. One thing that never changes is…” I make a circle with my finger in front of my eye to demonstrate, “is the gold rim around each of them.” I lower my hand into my lap and play with the end of my sweatshirt. “That’s my favorite part… ” I confess timidly.

I wouldn’t be saying these things if I were sober. I wish he would say something, anything. He must think I’m crazy. He finds me with Billy heading up stairs. I can only imagine what he must think of me now. Embarrassed beyond belief and sobering up, I excuse myself.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I unbuckle myself. “See you Monday!”

Swiftly, I climb out of the car. As I walk toward my front door, I curse myself for acting so stupid! Geez, what was I thinking? ‘The gold rim around each of them, that’s my favorite part!’ What kind of mushy, guhsy, marshmallow fluff is that? Ew! If he never spoke to me again I would judge that as completely reasonable! He has a girlfriend! He’s taken! Completely off limits! Why did I spew out this creepy nonsense to him like a total idiot? I’m not some lovesick teenage girl! I’m going to go to my room, put in some Guns N’ Roses, and just scream into my pillow all weekend! It sounds like an excellent plan to me because I just ruined my friendship with Steve forever! Add Nancy to that list because once he fills her in on what I said I’ll lose both of them!

“Y/N!” He calls after me.

I ignore it as I march faster toward the door. He’s only going to call me crazy because I was acting crazy!

“Y/N, wait!” He repeats as I hear him shut the car door and run toward me.

“Goodnight, Steve!” I urge him away without turning around.

His footsteps speed up until they come to a halt directly behind me. I reach for the door handle, my freedom. Desperately, he grips my forearm and steps in front of me, blocking the front door.

“Look, could you just slow down for a sec?” He yells at me as he pants to catch his breath.

“No! I can’t slow down! I just want to go inside, get in my pajamas, and forget tonight ever happened! Alright? Now, excuse me,” I gesture for him to get out of the way.

Reluctantly, paired with an overly dramatic eye roll, he steps aside. Despite wanting his to leave, I thank him quietly for cracking open the front door slowly, making sure not to wake anyone.

“Nance and I broke up…” Steve drops on me.

My heart leaps and I stop dead in my tracks. Unsure of what to do or say, I remain still in the doorway and wait for him to say more.

“She never loved me,” he explains with a heartbroken tone. “At least… I don’t think she did…”

Shit. Please don’t tell me that, Harrington. It only makes me want you more. He’s always so close but too far out of reach. I care about him more than anything but he’ll never mine. I’m just the friend.

I spin on my heels and offer him a sympathetic smile, “would you like to come in?”

He nods, clearly miserable. I step aside, allowing him in. After shutting the door behind us, I warn him to be quiet so we don’t wake my parents. He nods slowly and slips his hand into mine. Never breaking eye contact with me, he leads the way through the moonlit house toward my room. His platonic touch is so blissful, I can only imagine what it feels like otherwise.

_________________________________

Steve and I sit on my bed in our usual positions with my record player going quietly. He lounges like a patient in therapy and me, acting as his therapist, criss-cross beside him. He explains everything. He describes how drunk Nancy got and how he followed her to the bathroom. It was there they got into a fight. She admitted feeling guilty for the loss of Barb. Then, she called all of it bullshit. Us acting like carefree teenagers, never telling Barb’s parents the truth, her love for Steve, all of it is bullshit. He asked Jonathan to take her home and that’s when he stumbled upon me and Billy.

Watching Steve relive it all and hearing the pain in his voice breaks my heart. How could Nance do this to him? I get that she’s going through something, we all are. I’m by no means normal. I’m hiding everything for Pete’s sake! I haven’t been myself for over a year. Steve was just now becoming truly happy again! He was putting on a brave face for Nancy for so long! Now, she crushed it. She crushed him.

I reach and place my hand over his as they rest intertwined on his stomach. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am.”

“I really loved her. At least, I think I did. I don’t know anymore. I thought she loved me too.”

“I did too,” I tell him honestly.

He glances away from the ceiling down to me, “what can I do?”

I wish I knew the answer. I wish there was a way I could take away his pain. Yet, I have nothing. I shrug, “I’m not entirely sure. I think you should at least talk to her.

Tomorrow, of course, when she’s sobered up. Perhaps, she was just drunk and didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t in the proper mindset.”

“So I shouldn’t take what she said to heart?”

“Well, there’s also the argument that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Does the same go for you?” He snickers.

I laugh, “sometimes.”

“So you don’t like the gold in my eyes? I thought it was your favorite part?” He smirks, turning to lay on his side and face me. My hand would’ve fallen off his hadn’t he flipped his over to catch it.

Ugh, he’s such a sneaky jerk! His cheeky smirk only grows with my silence. Warmth rushes to my cheeks as I bashfully hide my face.

“Yeah… about that…” I laugh nervously, “let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Should I forget that you also said I smell like sunshine and everything exquisite?” He adds to the torment.

I groan, tossing my head back. This must count as torture. “Preferably, yes,” I request shortly.

We share a laugh at my annoyed reaction. He’s impossible! Even he should be mopping he still manages to tease me!

A comfortable silence fills the air and I stare down at the pillow in my lap as I play with the lettering on it.

________________________________

Masterlist

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things image

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