#gah!!!!! I can’t believe I’ve almost made it!!!!!

[dailyjevil]

hello!! hope you're having a good day :D

since you're doing the pride flag challenge, I hope you don't mind me requesting the lithromantic/sexual flag!

left is lithsexual and the right is lithromantic, idm which one you pick :]

(it means to feel romantic and/or sexual attraction to someone but doesn't want the feeling reciprocated or stops once it is :>)

Day 297 of posting Jevil every day

[harringtonstilinski]

Armageddon It - Eddie Munson (Smut)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 6,537 Warnings: fluff, squint super hard for angst, mentions of a jealous chrissy, Requested: no | yes; i'm gonna say yes on this. it's really a challenge i'm doing with @stevesxyellowxsweater! Smut (Minors DNI): no | yes, 18+; oral (f receiving), protected m+f, let me know if i missed anything A/N: Hi, friends! After about 4 or so months of writing, SHE'S FINALLY HERE!! Also, The Upside Down doesn't exist in this, bye! If you like this, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

eddie munson masterlist

eddie munson playlist

“Edward Wayne!!”

A smirk crossed your friend's face, his eyes never leaving the neck of his Sweetheart, his guitar. “Yes?”

Your body stood in the doorway of his room, a boisterous laughter coming from the living room. “You’re in fucking trouble.”

“Why is Wayne laughing?” He won’t lie, it was nice hearing his uncle laughing like he was. Eddie hadn’t heard him laugh like that in a long time.

“Because you’re in fucking trouble.”

Chuckling, he set his guitar down. “Okay, sweets. What’s up?”

“Can you please tell me why the hell everyone at that godforsaken video store has asked me about your hips?” Crossing your arms, you gave him the most seriously stern face you could muster, leaning your weight on one of your legs, an eyebrow raised.

Wayne laughed harder, which made Eddie cackle, his head thrown back. “And how were my hips?”

“Eddie!” you chastised. “What the fuck?” Holding your arms out to the side, you scoffed. “Do you realize what people are insinuating?”

“That we’ve had sex?”

“Hey now!” Wayne said. “Let’s not talk like that.” You heard a small squeak before the front door opened. “I’ll sit on the porch if you wanna have that talk.” He chuckled on his way out.

Sitting on his bed with your back facing Eddie, you sighed and dropped your head into your hands. “Eddie! We can’t have people thinking we’re fucking. It’s not right.”

A sort of sad look crossed Eddie’s features, his eyes casting downward, looking at a random spot on the back of your shirt. “I’m sorry, sweets.”

Sighing again, you removed your hands, turning to bring your leg up on the bed, bending it at the knee. Looking at Eddie with a somber look, you took his features. Bringing up a hand, you cupped his cheek, his eyes casting up to look into yours. “It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting it. It literally took me by surprise.”

“Just so you know,” Eddie said, seriousness in his eyes. “I didn’t start that rumor. It had to have been someone else.”

Thinking it over for a moment, you wracked your brain about who could’ve started the rumor, coming to the conclusion with a sigh, dropping your hand to a hard but soft surface as you closed your eyes. “Fucking Cunningham.”

“Chrissy started that rumor?”

Standing from his bed, you started pacing the length of the mattress, hands in your hair. “Jealous fucking ex is what she is. God, I can’t stand her. We’ve been out of school for, what? Two years?”

“You’ve been out for two, I’ve been out for one.”

“Whatever! Gah- I can’t believe she’d want to spread a rumor like that! Who does she think she is?! Miss fucking Priss, is what she is!” You were ranting so fast and almost way too loud that you didn’t notice Eddie standing in front of you until you felt hands on your shoulders, stopping your pacing.

“Hey. Sweets. Calm down. She’s just jealous. She broke up with me because I was apparently spending more time with you than her, remember?” Eddie said, bringing up his hand to brush some hair behind your ear. “No need to freak out.”

“I’m trying,” you sighed. “It’s just hard because I’ve done nothing to her and she’s just… her.”

“Jealous.”

“Hey, kids!” Wayne called out. “You two hungry? It’s almost dinner time.”

Looking off to the side, you thought about it for a moment, realizing that you haven’t eaten in a while. “Yeah, I could eat.” You looked at Eddie, shrugging before turning to walk back down the hallway to the kitchen where Wayne was now standing. “What’cha cooking up, Wayne?”

“Oh, I was thinking of either some burgers or some tacos,” Wayne answered, looking into the refrigerator.

Lightly gasping, your eyes went wide. “Can I help make whatever? I mean, I can actually make whichever one for you.”

“Oh, darlin-”

“Nope,” you said, stepping up to him, placing a hand on his back. “You do a lot for Eddie.”

Wayne grabbed the pack of ground meat from the fridge, placing it on the counter. “You too, darlin’. Don’t forget that.”

“When I’m here. Let me help. Please? You can kick your feet up, watch some tv, drink a beer or two. Just relax, Wayne, please. For me?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip poking out.

The older Munson man just chuckled, reopening the fridge to grab a beer, tilting it at you with that Munson smirk. “You got it. Make whichever one you want. I’m good with either one of them.” Smiling, you said, “Okay,” as your eyes watched him walk to his chair, kicking the foot rest up and deeply sighing. “Eddie!”

“Yes?”

Jumping at how close his voice was, you turned to face him, hand up at your sternum. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” he quietly laughed. “What’s up, sweets?”

“Hamburgers or tacos?” Not waiting for him to answer, you turned on your heel to the cabinet where you knew the spices were kept, humming when you didn’t see any taco seasoning. “Shit. We need taco seasoning.”

“I was gonna say hamburgers, but tacos works, too,” Eddie said, Wayne holding up his beer to add, “I was gonna say the same thing!”

Grabbing your keys from the small kitchen table, you sighed, “You Munson men. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with you. Wayne, care if I go with her?”

“Nope. Just don’t get into trouble,” Wayne replied, eyes glued to the tv that was already on when you had arrived.

“Awesome,” Eddie smiled, turning his head to watch your retreating form move to your car. “Thanks, Wayne.” He quickly walked out of the trailer, calling out your name, your head turning at the sound of his voice. “Let’s take the van. I feel like a giant in your tiny ass car.”

Shaking your head, you snickered, moving around both your car and his van to reach the passenger side door, finding it already open for you, Eddie standing there with his hand out to help you in.

“M’lady.”

“You’re such a dork,” you softly laughed. Once he closed the door and moved around the vehicle, you buckled yourself in, looking at his collection of metal tapes lying everywhere on the van’s floor. When you found one you knew he bought for you, you picked it up and held it up.

“I’m not listening to Pyromania again.”

“It’s not that one. It is Def Leppard, though.”

Eddie sighed, taking the tape from your hand to read the title of the album, looking at you with small distaste. 

“Oh, come on! It has like three of my favorite songs on it!”

“Name them,” he said, turning the case over to look at the track listing on the back.

“Love Bites, Hysteria, and Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

He looked at you for a moment before sighing, “Fuck,” and putting the tape in after ejecting the Dio album he was listening to. Once the songs started to play and you were happy, he backed out of the small front yard to the small bit of road the trailer park provided to drive toward town. “So, I was thinking about something.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shut up,” he chuckled. “About this rumor. Maybe we should… I don’t know, put it to bed and make it true?”

If you were drinking something, you’d for sure either choke on it or spit it out all over your part of the dashboard. “What?”

“Let’s do it! Let’s make the rumor true.”

“Well, damn, Munson, now every time we hang out, I’m gonna anticipate it.”

“Good,” he said, smirking to himself. He pulled into the parking lot of the local grocery store, the both of you getting out and walking side by side into the store.

As you walked through the aisles, you picked up what you thought you’d need for your meal; taco shells, sour cream, tomatoes to dice up, green onion to chop for garnish and cheese. Once everything was in your arms, you both dropped them onto the conveyor belt at the checkout counter to pay.

Eddie insisted on paying for everything with his ‘business money’, but you told you got it and for him to not worry about it, that it was your treat. When you paid and got your paper bags from the cashier, you both loaded back up in the van and drove back to the Munson trailer.

“Wayne! We’re… back,” you said, looking at Wayne’s sleeping form. You felt Eddie’s chest crash into your back, a hand on your shoulder.

“Sweets, wha–” Eddie started.

“Shut up, Wayne fell asleep.”

Eddie looked at his uncle, seeing that he was indeed sleeping. He walked into the kitchen as quietly as he could, setting the bags down on the counter to take the items out of the bag. Just as you set the bag from your hands on the counter, Eddie had turned toward the fridge, taking the pack of protein from its spot on the cold shelf to set it on the counter.

“If you’re gonna be in here with me while I cook, I need your hair up and out of your face,” you said, taking half of your own hair to secure it with a hair tie you always had on your wrist. After tightening the hair tie, you gave Eddie a stern look as he perched himself onto the counter.

“Alright. Do you have an extra hair tie?” he asked, lacing his fingers together to rest them in between his knees.

“Eddie, you have a million floating around here.”

“Yeah, but none of them are yours.” He gave you a cheeky grin with a wink.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, turning on your heel to walk into the shared bathroom. Right there on the counter was the hair tie you had left a couple of days prior. Sighing exasperatedly, you grabbed it and exited the bathroom, only to be met with Eddie’s hair being tied into a low bun at the nape of his neck, the younger Munson man moving around the stove. “Wha– I was gonna do that!”

“Quiet, love,” he murmured. “Don’t wanna wake Wayne up.” At the mention of his uncle, you both heard a small snore coming from the living room, quiet snickers coming from both of you once you looked at each other.

“Okay,” you said, quietly. “We need to try and be quiet. Which is gonna be… a challenge considering that when you cook ground meat– Eddie!”

As you were trying to explain to him about being quiet, he went ahead and started cooking, the sizzle from the meat growing louder with every passing second.

“It’s okay, sweets. I do this all the time. He’ll wake up when one of two things happen; I wake him up by simply saying it’s ready, or he’ll wake up on his own accord when the noises die out.”

“So, you’ve done this before?” you asked, generously curious.

Eddie looked at you, his eyes softer than what you’ve ever seen. “Every night.”

“Wow,” you whispered. “I never knew that.”

“You always dip out before when I ask about you staying.”

Following your instincts, you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle, your cheek pressed to his back. “That’s amazing of you, Eds. But I like this side of you.”

He turned his head over his shoulder, letting you know that he was still engaged in the conversation. “What side?”

“Domestic,” you replied, slightly smiling. “Super kind, even though I knew that. Always thinking of others, putting them before yourself.”

“And how do you figure that last one?”

“Putting others before yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“You just… put their needs before your own. I can’t describe it. You’re just… not what people say you are.”

“A freak?”

“Well,” you said, moving to stand beside him, your arms still around his waist as his own arm went around your shoulders. “You are a freak, but… they say you’re mean and scary, but you’re just… not. You’re kind and thoughtful. You’re always willing to help those who need it, even if other people can’t see that. You have an amazing heart. You’re helping Wayne out with money, even if I don’t totally agree with it.”

Eddie snickered, neither of you realizing that your soft voices roused Wayne from his small sleep, the man unmoving as he listened in. “Yeah, well, I’ve had help in that department.”

“No, no. You’ve always done that, even before I came along.”

Hugging you tighter to his side, he slightly smiled at you, looking into your beautiful eyes that he always got lost in. “You’ve made me want to be a better person.”

You smiled and looked at the cooking meat in the pan, taking the spatula from his hand, breaking the meat up a little more while flipping and stirring it to make sure all the pink was gone from it. “Tell me more, Eds. This soft side of you is one of my favorite sides you show.”

“What’s the other?” He was more than curious about this turn of conversation.

“Your Dungeon Master side.” You reluctantly removed yourself from his hold to grab the strainer from the lower cabinet, placing it inside the sink before taking the pan from the stove to pour the meat into it. Waiting just a couple of minutes before putting it back into the pan, you gathered the other ingredients for the meal, mixing the seasoning packet with the amount of water it needed.

Eddie leaned against the corner of the counter, crossing his arms, watching you work this time. “You like it when I play Dungeon Master?”

Nodding in response, you placed the meat and seasoning mixture back into the pan, the sizzle sounding through the trailer once more. “Yup. That’s part of your element and I love seeing that. I love seeing–”

“Go to Benny’s with me.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, you were utterly confused. “Now? Eddie, we’re cook–”

“No, no, not tonight,” he said, shaking his hands. “Saturday. Let me take you–”

“On a date?” you asked, your eyebrows shooting into your hairline. “You wanna take me on a date?”

“Yeah, why not? Let’s start putting that rumor to bed on Saturday.”

Thinking about what he said previously about putting the rumor to bed, your brows softened, a mischievous smile crossing your lips. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

The both of you finished cooking the tacos, as well as cutting the toppings up in sync with each other. It amazed you how well you both danced around each other, almost as if you choreographed it yourself.

Once it was done, you told Wayne it was time to chow down, which he gladly but slowly got up from his chair to sit at the table with Eddie. You opted to perch yourself up on the counter that was closest to the table, being able to engage in their conversation, laughing when they said or did something that you thought was hilarious.

When the three of you were finished eating with absolutely no food left over, you told the Munson men to sit back and relax so that you could clean up, which wasn’t much. Eddie tried to help you dry the dishes, but you just smacked his hand away, telling him to sit his ass down.

Eddie had grabbed himself a beer, as well as another one for Wayne, handing it to him before going into his room, laying down on his bed, his back resting against the wall behind him, watching as you walked in.

Trying to figure out where to sit, you looked around his room, seeing it was a little askew.

“Don’t you think about it,” he said. “It’s organized chaos.”

“But can you find the heavy stuff?” you asked, raising a brow at his silence. “That’s what I thought.” You busied yourself by tidying his room, putting his dirty laundry in a pile to be washed, folding the clean clothes and putting them in his drawers… after folding them up. “Am I gonna have to come over once a week and tidy up for you?”

Eddie chuckled, setting his beer down on the table beside his bed, the contents almost gone before he moved to the edge of his mattress, mimicking your position from earlier. “Come here,” he quietly said, holding a hand out for you.

Taking it, you couldn’t help but feel the sparks shoot through your arm, but you elected to ignore them as he guided you to sit in from him. 

“I just wanted to say thanks,” he said, softly. “For helping make dinner, cleaning up the dishes as well as my room.” He chuckled at his own statement, your own chuckle mingling with his. “You’re really the best person I could’ve ever asked to be a friend.”

“A best friend?” you asked, smiling wide with your brows raised.

“Yeah,” he lightly laughed. “A best friend.”

After that conversation, you and Eddie cuddled on his bed, something you always did after you stayed for dinner, the two of you talking about anything and everything for a couple of hours. At the sound of the shower running, you sighed. 

“I guess that’s my cue,” you whispered, subconsciously drawing random circles on his shirt.

Eddie held you tighter, groaning in protest. “Noooooooooo! Don’t go.”

Laughing, you balled his shirt in your fist, your cheek squishing on his clothed chest.  “I have to! I have to work in the morning.”

“Tell everyone that comes in tomorrow that you're putting the rumor to bed.”

You chuckled a little, trying your best to sit up. “Will do, boss.”

It was Eddie’s turn to reluctantly let you go, the both of you sitting up and getting off the bed. Like a true gentleman, he walked you out of the trailer and to your car. “Thanks for staying for dinner, sweets.”

“I enjoyed it,” you replied, looking at him with a soft smile. You could feel the tension between the two of you, wanting to just plant your lips on his, but knowing you couldn’t. “Well, I, uhh, I guess I should go.”

Eddie groaned in protest, making you giggle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow after my shift for a little while like always.”

“It’s like you live here.”

“I might as well. We all know that my home life isn’t what I enjoy.” 

You grew up like your other best friend, Steve Harrington. Rich parents, big house, always by yourself. On those days or weeks that your parents were off with Steve’s, you’d both switch off between staying at each other’s houses.

Just like with Steve and Robin, you and him were strictly platonic, if not just as platonic as they were. You liked the relationship you and Steve held. No expectations held between the two of you, other than… being best friends.

“I know, sweets,” Eddie whispered, bringing a hand up to your cheek, holding it in his palm. “Call me and let me know you made it home safe?”

“Eddie–”

“Wayne’ll be fine,” he interrupted. “He’s working nights at the moment, remember?”

Closing your eyes with a squint, you remembered what his shifts were like; a few weeks on day shift, a few weeks on night shift. You felt bad for Wayne’s sleep schedule, the man getting sleep where he could.

As if he sensed his name being mentioned, Wayne walked out of the trailer, lunchbox in hand. “Well, kids, looks like I’m heading off for the night. You two stay out of trouble.”

“Eddie? Getting into trouble? Never,” you joked.

All Eddie could do was give you a deadpan expression. “Oh, ha ha ha. Very funny.” He looked at his uncle, softness in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Wayne. I’ll be fine.”

“Same words, different day,” the older Munson chuckled. “I’ll see ya in the morning, boy.”

Eddie just smiled and patted his uncle on the shoulder, watching as he got into his rundown car and drove off to work. He was always worried about his uncle and that shitbox he drove, but at least it got him from Point A to Point B. Sighing, Eddie looked back down at you, seeing the somber look on your face.

“He’s gonna be okay,” you softly said. “He’ll get there fine.”

“I know,” he sighed, again, wrapping his arms around you. “I just worry.”

Releasing a deep breath as you wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed your face into his chest, you responded, “It’s okay to worry, Eds,” before moving your head to the side, your cheek pressing where your nose just was. “But you’re gonna worry yourself to death. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself.”

Perching your chin on his sternum, you looked up at him as he looked down at you. “I know. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Being here for us. He’s not very good with words, but I know he appreciates it.”

“Who knows, maybe one day I’ll move in and cook dinner for you two all the time, and make sure your laundry is kept up.” You were joking, but something in Eddie’s mind told him that didn’t sound like a bad idea. “Listen, I would love to stay and keep you company, but unfortunately, my parents are home for the next few days. They’d be pissed if I wasn’t home to greet them.”

Eddie raised a brow at you. “Can I level with you?”

“Sure.”

“They wouldn’t be pissed, and I think… you’re just telling yourself that… to try and make yourself feel better.”

He had a good point. Steve had said the same thing about his own parents at one point when you all were at a party together.

“Okay, fine,” you groaned. “I really don’t wanna go home.”

“Then don’t. Come back inside. Let’s put–”

“I swear, if you say let’s put the rumor to bed one more time, I’m gonna pluck every single strand of hair from your hair.”

Eddie chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “I was gonna say, rude ass, let’s put on a movie… and if we happen to put the rumor to bed, we put the rumor to bed.”

“Edward Wayne, you might just be a genius,” you smiled. You couldn’t deny that you had a small crush on him. I mean, who wouldn’t! Everyone in town sees him as a freak, but to you… he’s just Eddie. Sweet, fun-loving, guitar playing Eddie who adores his uncle and Hellfire friends more than anything.

You were already feeling a little tired, so agreeing to Eddie’s offer of watching a movie seemed like the next best thing. As you walked back into the trailer, you set your stuff back down on the small kitchen table before walking to the couch, plopping yourself down while releasing a deep breath before yawning, “What did you want to watch?”

“None of that rom-com shit you like to watch,” he chuckled.

“Well, none of that horror shit you like to watch,” you retorted, smiling at the end to show him that you were joking.

He chuckled, sitting down next to you after he popped a movie into the player, the remote in his hand. Putting his arm around the back of the couch, he smirked, the trailers playing on the screen, the brightness of the screen lighting up his features.

Looking from him back to the tv, you groaned, a small bit of fear crossing your features. “Eddie. I hate this movie. Why would you pick this movie?”

“What’s wrong with this movie?” he asked, tapping his heels on the floor, his legs having been spread since he sat down.

“It’s fucking creepy!” you whined. “And I feel bad for the little piggie!”

“Well, I, for one, like the Horned King.”

“Of course you would. The Black Cauldron is right up your freaking alley.” Crossing your arms, you scrunch your brows, wallowing in your discomfort causing Eddie to lightly chuckle to himself.

Not ten minutes into the film, and you were burying your face into Eddie’s shoulder, your hands up by your cheek. “Oh, fuck!” you exclaimed. This made Eddie chuckle, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, making your face go from his shoulder to his chest, your eyes peeking out from between your fingers. 

“Turn it off, turn it off,” you whimpered as the Horned King spoke on screen.

“How I’ve thirsted to be a god,” the Horned King said.

“You’re fucking creepy as shit, man! You’re no god! You’re just a devil with horns!”

Laughing, Eddie tightened his grip on your shoulders. “That’s the point, babe.” He didn’t mean to use the nickname, it just slipped out. Not that it didn’t feel good rolling off of his tongue.

You looked at him, the movie long forgotten in your mind as you looked at his profile. Bringing your hand up to cup his cheek, you moved his head to cast his eyes down at you, which he did after seeing the screen from the corner of his eyes. “Call me that again,” you whispered.

“What? Babe?” he asked just as quietly.

Nodding, you sat up a little straighter. “I think I’d rather put that rumor to bed now.”

“It’s like you read my mind, sweets.” Without missing a beat, Eddie leaned his head down just as you were sitting up a little more, your lips connecting in a searing kiss that had fireworks and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The kiss was everything you had dreamed it would be as you moved to straddle his hips, your hands cupping his cheeks as Eddie’s hands went to your hips. Capturing his bottom lip between yours, you let out  a soft breath before pulling back.

At the same time you moved your hands to his neck, Eddie’s hands moved from your hips to your cheeks, his big palms cupping your face as your foreheads pressed together. “Damn, sweets,” Eddie breathed. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about that?”

“Forever?” you asked, softly. Lightly rubbing your thumbs on his neck, you pulled back just a little to look into his chocolate brown eyes. “Because I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time.”

“Dreaming about what?”

Well, you can’t turn back now as you decided to just lay it all out on the table. “About you being slotted between my legs, your cock buried so deep inside of me that I could cum just from that alone. I’ve dreamt about your face between my thighs–” 

You felt yourself being lifted from the couch, your legs going around Eddie’s waist as the man in question walked towards his bedroom, making sure the door was locked beforehand as you continued, “- as your tongue and fingers work on my wet, aching core to the point where I have push your face away from how sensitive you made me.”

Eddie groaned as he kicked his bedroom door shut, laying you down on the bed to hover over you. “Keep going, princess.”

“I’ve dreamt of you fucking me from behind, me riding you, us laying on our sides facing each other, you buried to the hilt inside of me. Even me laying on my stomach with you hovering over me, making me feel so fucking good.”

“Shit,” Eddie whispered, working on the buttons of your jeans while his lips worked on your neck.

Quietly gasping at the feeling of his hand working its way down the front of your jeans, you kept up with your words. “I’ve dreamt about making you feel good, Eddie. My mouth around your tip, hollowing my cheeks as I take all that I can into my mouth, wrapping my hand around what I can’t fit - shit.”

Your words were cut off by the feel of Eddie’s finger sliding through your already wet folds, teasing your entrance. “So wet for me,” he muttered against your neck. “You always this wet when you think about me, princess?”

Moaning, you answered, “Yes. Always.” Burying your head into the mattress beneath your head, you moaned again, feeling a rush of pleasure surging through you at the feel of his slender digit finally making contact with your aching bud. Needing something to hold on to for the moment, you reached your hand up, lightly grasping Eddie’s curly brown tendrils. 

“Eddie,” you breathed. “Need you.”

“Need me where, princess?”

“Mouth. Core. Now.”

A light chuckle sounded from Eddie before a sad whimper through the air from you at the removal of his touch. Before you could protest, he placed a kiss to your lips, working on the button and zipper of your jeans. “Oh, don’t worry, princess. I’m getting there.”

Feeling his body being removed from your own, you looked at him, a pout on your lips as he sat up straight, taking your jeans with him. Eddie looked at you, a smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, m’lady. I’m getting there.”

A sigh fell from your lips as you watched him remove your panties from your hips, dropping them to the floor with your jeans with a soft thud. Gliding his hands up your calves to your knees, you closed your eyes, softly moaning with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

The next sensation had you gasping and looking down, seeing nothing but the top of Eddie’s glorious hair as he started his feast on your core. “Fuck, Eddie,” you whispered.

He leaned back just a tad to look up at you as he worked his magical tongue over your sensitive bud. Pulling off of your core for just a second, he brought his fingers to where his mouth was, softly working his fingers over your core to continue the sensation his tongue had brought. “You like that, babe?”

Nodding, you hummed your agreement, bringing a hand to his hair to thread your fingers through them softly. “Yes,” you whispered. 

Eddie leaned his head against your inner thigh, smiling up at you softly as he inserted one finger into your entrance. “Ready for your fantasy to be brought to life?”

“Fuck yes, Eddie, please,” you groaned before he chuckled. 

Without saying another word, he brought his mouth down on your clit, gently sucking on the bud as he worked his finger in and out of you at a delicious pace. Halting his sucking for just a moment, he watched himself as he brought another finger to your entrance, inserting that finger into you as well, your moans like music to his ears.

No words were exchanged as he worked his fingers in and out of your core and his tongue and mouth on your clit, groans coming from both of you; your groans and moans of pleasure, his groans at your sounds.

“Fuck, Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you said, using your free hand to grab at his pillow. He saw that and didn’t like it, so instead, he adjusted himself before reaching for your hand that was on his head and laced your fingers with his as you brought your free hand down to his head.

Your breaths quickened as Eddie worked his absolute magic, working you to your release. With your head digging into the pillows, you let out a loud moan as your climax hit. While it felt glorious, you wanted to see Eddie’s face and the smug grin that you were sure he was wearing.

When you looked down, you smiled and chuckled, seeing that exact look on his face. “Enjoy that, babe?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled. “I think you’ve got me tongue drunk.”

Chuckling, he placed a kiss to the top of your clit before moving his lips back up your body, taking your shirt with him. As he brought it up over your head, Eddie lifted your arms, holding your wrists in place as he looked down at your breasts, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

“Take it off,” you whispered, watching him push it up to reveal your skin to him, his eyes having landed on your perky nipples. Before you could say or even think of any other words to say, a moan escaped your throat, your head digging back into the pillows at the feeling of Eddie’s mouth around your nipple. “Eddie!”

With a soft pop, he released your perky bud, looking you dead in the eyes. “How do you want me?” he asked, reaching towards his jeans button and zipper, the latter sounding as he unzipped his pants, pushing them down his legs the best he could.

“Inside. Now. I can’t wait any longer. I need you, Eds.”

“Shit, babe,” he muttered, standing to rid himself of his clothes and to retrieve a condom. He started to climb back up his bed to hover over you at the same time you rid yourself of your shirt. Lining himself up after rolling the condom down his shaft, he looked at you. “Ready?”

“More than ready.”

He nodded slightly, looking back down at your entrance to guide himself to your aching core. As soon as the tip of his cock touched your pussy, it was game over. You both moaned at the feeling of him inserting himself.

You gasped and looked down at where the two of you were connected as soon as he buried to the hilt as he groaned in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he muttered. “I’m not even sure I’ll last that long.”

“I don’t care if you last the next four milliseconds,” you said. “I love the way you feel me up.”

With that, Eddie slowly pulled out before all but slamming back into you before doing it again… and again and again and again and again causing you to be a writhing mess under him. Eddie did all he could to hold himself above you, his arm muscles growing the tiniest bit weak.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel so good, I might cum in the next three pumps.”

“Fuuu–” Your words were cut off with a small yelp at Eddie’s fingers rubbing your clit, your walls starting to flutter around him. “Eddie, I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop!”

And he didn’t. He didn’t stop rubbing at your clit until you came around his cock, and he in the condom. Eddie didn’t move for a good minute or two, panting above you. “Shit, babe.”

When he pulled out to dispose of the condom, the both of you hissed, your core feeling like he fucked you absolutely raw. “Don’t move,” Eddie whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, you watched as his form retreated from the room, calling out Wayne’s name just to be sure he didn’t come back home early. When neither of you heard his voice, Eddie looked at you and gave you a curt nod before exiting his bedroom, a small laugh playing on your lips.

As you heard the water in the bathroom running, you sighed and closed your eyes, content with how things were playing when an overwhelming thought crossed your mind; what did this mean for the two of you? Were you two together; like boyfriend and girlfriend, or were you two just now friends with benefits?

Those thoughts scared you, as did Eddie when he came into the room, a warm wash cloth in hand. “Spread ‘em,” he said, softly. You did as he asked, gasping at the feeling of him cleaning you up.

Once the cloth was discarded, he crawled up the bed to lay beside you with a smile on his face, but when he looked at the expression on your face, his smile immediately died. “babe, what’s wrong?”

“Just–” you sighed. “What are we now?” Looking at him, you couldn’t help but feel bad at bringing this up right after he fucked you into oblivion. “I just– I wanna be with you, Eddie, but that stupid, annoying voice in the back of my head is saying that you don’t want to be with me, too, which I know wouldn’t be the case if you just fucked me like a damn god.”

Eddie chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “babe, I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Cupping your cheek, he continued his words. “When I saw you, I said to myself, ‘damn, I want this girl. She’s perfect, even with her nose stuck in a book.’”

Laughing, you covered his hand with yours, looking into his eyes with all the adoration in the world. “You still want me even though I still have my nose books?”

With a soft smile, he replied, “Always.”

~~~

As you walked into Family Video with Eddie a few weeks later, you spotted Chrissy in the rom-com section of the store, her head tilting up from looking at the second shelf. When her eyes locked with yours, she rolled hers and looked back down for a moment before casting her eyes upward, looking at you and Eddie once more.

Eddie saw this and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing your temple before walking over to the horror section, which just so happened to be right behind the rom-com section.

As Chrissy turned to look at the shelves behind her, what she saw made her let out a deep, annoyed breath; you and Eddie were locking lips, not in a high school makeout session, but more of a sweet kiss.

The two of you only broke apart once you heard a throat being cleared. “Can you two please move this somewhere else?” Robin whispered. “You’re going to scare away our customers.”

“Remember that rumor from a few weeks ago about Eddie and I hooking up?” you asked, to which Robin nodded. “Well, Chrissy started that rumor, so Eddie and I put it to bed and… well, now we’re together!”

“Nice, but please, keep it to a minimum,” she asked, turning to walk back to the front counter.

Smiling, you shook your head and turned to look at the selection of tapes in front of you.

“Listen, I know horror isn’t your thing, but I brought you over here to just kiss you in front of Chrissy,” Eddie said, softly.

“So, does this mean I get to go look at comedies now?” you asked, looking up at your boyfriend with a smile on your face. 

Chuckling, he said, “Sure thing, babe.”

Walking away, you groaned, “God, I love it when you call me that.”

As Eddie walked behind you to the comedy section, he started humming one of your newest favorites songs off of Def Leppard’s Hysteria album. “Gimme all of you lovin’, Gimme all that you got, Ev’ry bit of you lovin’, Never want it to stop, Yeah but are you gettin’ it? Armageddon it! Ooh, really gettin’ it? Yes, Armageddon it!”

Hearing Eddie humming that song had you bursting out in laughter, head tilted back. The second, third, and even fourth time the two of you had rolled around in the sheets, that particular song played. Every. Single. Time.

So, Eddie being Eddie, hummed or sang it every time he wanted take in that particular activity, and you would always respond with a lyric from the song, just like you did now.

“Yes, Armageddon it!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: idk how i feel about writing for a non-henderson!reader, lol. i'm so used to writing henderson!reader, lol

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on August 23, 2024

[ekingston]

Your reply on ao3 about your wife’s screenshot and being a cheerleader stuck with me, because I’ve realized I don’t actually articulate enough how amazing some writers (read: you) are. I finished the most recent chapter of soup (after eleven-thousand unacceptable distractions), and I was going to plunk together a quick comment that would absolutely not do enough justice to express the genius I find your writing to be. So instead I opened a google doc and started smashing my keyboard which resulted in a pretty long-winded... something, but allow me to fan-girl for like, a second:

The quality and style of your writing floors me every time. There is an effortlessness about it that makes it totally and completely bingeable but also something that gives a little more each time I read it. For me, it’s the most replayable form of literature: I can go back for the plot, for the character rapport, for the punchy dialogue, or for the voice of the narrator. It fits all the moods. It charms me. It amuses me. I want to hug it.

Your work excites me, and when I think of authors and works that excite me, I’m lumping you in with like, Heartburn which is an all-time favorite for that exact reason: I can binge it in a day or go back and sip on it and discover something clever and witty and just impossibly gorgeous in execution.

And speaking as someone who CANNOT for the life of me write something that doesn’t eventually tumble into a vat of angst, I also just adore the way you manage tension without losing the light-hearted reading experience. Holiday wine is a masterpiece, AND I think Soup is almost better because you juggle so much more: the chorus of characters are taking on their own plot lines, the stakes are higher, you add danger and adventure, you weave a more complex, interconnected storyline, and you massage it all beautifully to act as a supporting cast to the core of the story.

Which brings me to the trope (and a complete tangent): miscommunication. Like, ok look… I usually can’t stand it. But that’s mostly because of the execution: the obvious interruptions, the clear misdirection and disregard for natural intuition, the not asking the right questions, the very blatant ham-fisted forcefulness of it just… I can’t.

AND THEN YOU WENT AND MADE A MASTERCLASS OF IT.

You took every complaint you didn’t know I had and put in the work to make it believable. Kara is charmingly oblivious but not for lack of trying. She perfectly talks past Nia and Alex and Lena not just once but every. time. and every time is just so well-conceived and articulated and *gesticulates hands in the air wildly trying to find the right word* gah. The world of her confusion and misguidedness is so believable and commendable and *gesticulates again* gah. This is the absolute genius of the work. I will give kudos till I’m blue in the face about the story as a whole, but I will die on the ‘Easter crushed the miscommunication trope’ hill.

And this is just ONE EXAMPLE of how you knock it out of the park every single time. I could go on about how solidly you write the characters, how charming your prose is, how epic your one-shots are, or how I don’t even care that I can’t trust your chapter count anymore but this is already a run-on and I'm running out of air.

I don’t know how you write, if there is one draft or a million, if you just stream–of-conscious this into existence, or if you summon the words through a ouija board, but it’s brilliant and commendable and THANK YOU for doing what you’re doing.

so. this message is. a miracle? and you are a GIFT. and i’m not going to be able to elaborate much beyond that, because unlike you, i am terrible; at writing attentive notes, at handling compliments, and—hilariously, maybe, since i’ve finally started thinking of myself as a writer again after a decade of self-loathing false starts—at writing down my thoughts in an easily digestible way.

can i say it’s the nicest thing i’ve ever gotten from someone who isn’t (yet?) a close personal friend? that the timing of it was almost implausibly perfect because it arrived in the middle of the deep breathing exercises i was doing after being made aware of some deeply stupid twitter discourse around Soup that was going on right as i was getting ready to post its final chapter?

i think i’ll stick to the important stuff: like THANK YOU. like how your (AMAZING) note completely obliterated the bad stuff and made me excited not just to wrap up this fic, or even to jump into the next, but about doing it all in the first place. that it was a very needed reminder of what an immensely privileged position i’m in to be able to put something out online that brings people (you) enough joy that you want to come tell me about it. and, obviously, that the specific things you chose to highlight are extraordinarily flattering, and i am absolutely not immune to that kind of thing.

i went back and forth on publishing this ask because it feels almost embarrassing, and boastful. but whatever, you know? you made me feel good about my writing again and provided important perspective and ultimately you put thought and effort and overall awesomeness into it and i’m not going to hide that away when you intended it to be shared.

thank you. SO MUCH.

[hana-bobo-finch]

shepherd’s dialogue on base:

Bernard is an excellent pilot, and yet even with him at the helm, we crashed. The cause is still a mystery…but I can’t help thinking something drew us here.

Yonny is an extremely avid reader, and his untiring spirit of academic curiosity is something to be admired. The problem is…he prefers paper books to digital ones and has boxes upon boxes of them shipped to us every week back at HQ.

You can rest assured that during a rescue mission, problems will arise that can’t be solved alone. When that happens, don’t hesitate to turn to your fellow officers. We’re a team here. Don’t forget that.

When this mission is over, take some time off. And take Oatchi along with you. He could use a bit of fun too. There’s a big park near HQ. it’s a lovely spot and has a nice dog run, to boot.

When Yonny is focused on concocting one of his new medicines, he forbids us from entering the ship’s lab. You wouldn’t believe that sounds of maniacal laughter that comes out of there. We just plug our ears and pay it no mind.

After talking with Bernard…HOOO, you can’t HELP but pick up the way he speaks! Gah! See what I mean?!

That wireless transceiver Collin uses…it’s quite an antique. It was passed down to him by his grandfather. Needless to say, it’s very important to him. Whenever it breaks, he replaces the parts himself and just keeps on using it.

Dingo is an ace of a ranger. And yes, he likes to conduct rescue operations on his own…But if you hit an obstacle, don’t hesitate to call for help. He’ll support you without fail.

I guess Bernard as part of some “dynamic duo” back home…and that has something to do with him becoming a pilot?

I’ve been thinking…when this mission is over, I should write a book about it. I’ve even decided on a title. Rescue Pup Training: A Mission Like No Other!

There’s a limit to the amount of cargo a spaceship can carry. That means the Rescue Officers have to learn to travel light. So imagine my surprise when Yonny tried to bring 27 shelves FULL of books. “Digital books,” I told him. “That’s an order!”

Bernard’s a superb pilot, but when you look at his resume…Well, he’s done so much you’d think he could be almost anything.

I invited Dingo to dinner once as a reward for all of his hard work. He went bright red in the face, then fainted right there on the spot. It was the strangest thing! I think perhaps I’ll try again after this mission is over. Surely he’s feeling much better by now.

Little known fact: Russ always wears a lab coat under his space suit. Why? “I am a researcher first and foremost!” he says. For this mission, his mother gifted him 64 new lab coats. You wouldn’t believe how much room they take up in the ship.

Bernard may seem like he’s irresponsible, but when he sits down in the cockpit, he’s all focus. Behind that boisterous personality of his, he’s a meticulous flying machine, pulling off maneuvers precise to a millisecond.

You’ve made yourself into an indispensable Rescue Officer, haven’t you? The work is hard, but the rewards…they’re BIG, eh?

I hear that ever since Collin was little. He’s spent all of his free time tinkering with machines. When he joined the Rescue Corps, he was already a highly skilled comms operator.

I consider myself real lucky to have a scientific genius like Russ around. There’s just…one problem. I have no idea what’s he’s talking about half the time. I find it best to just nod approvingly. Seems to make him feel good.

It’s not just Oatchi—the Pikmin really seem to have taken to you too. I guess I’ve gotten used to them at this point, but if I’m being honest…Rescue Pup training suits me a whole lot better.

“There’s no better judge of character than a dog.” That’s the Shepherd family motto, passed down through the generations.

“The best-laid plans often go awry.” As a captain, that’s something I never lose sight of. Once a captain has given a Rescue Officer their mission, there’s nothing to be don’t but hope you’ll see that officer again.

Russ’s passion of research is admirable, but when he leaves his equipment all over the ship, it’s a real problem. I keep telling him it’s a danger for takeoff and landing. He keeps telling me I should bring his mother to clean up behind him!

[2aceofspades]

Hi, I'm the anon who asked if you were okay with all of this chaos. I have many things to say!

First off, your many thank yous made me very very (two verys) happy. So thank YOU.

Second, you absolutely deserve all of the attention you're getting. You're seriously an incredible artist, and I love the fact that a lot of your art is on paper. I especially love how Donnie looks in your style (which is funny, because I remember you saying that you DIDN'T like it). Ahem. Getting off track a bit there. Anyways. You're an incredible artist, and all of the attention is well earned, AND it's okay to feel overwhelmed. I hope you know that we don't expect you to answer everything right away. You're popular, and lots of people are asking you to do things. You can choose to not do something, and you SHOULD. Do what inspires you, and we'll love it!

Third, and hopefully finally. I play with character AIs a lot, just to kind of see how characters would react to certain things. I AM an author, and I can imagine these things myself, but I like seeing it from external sources more. It almost seems more believable. When a human comes up with it, it just feels more raw and expressive. Or something. I have no clue what I'm saying; hopefully it's not too muddled. Then, when someone DRAWS it. It's a thousand times better. I just love it so much!

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love how we can give you prompts and questions, and you'll go somewhere amazing with it. I loved the thing with Leo, Donnie, and the coffee. My thanks goes out to you and the asker. It's a huge gift to us when you respond. Literally, it's like a present, I love it.

So, just to clarify because I'm paranoid and words don't really work sometimes, are you okay with super random prompt-asks? Like earlier I saw a post where so-and-so asked so-and-so what the turtles night-time routines would be. Stuff like that?

Thank you so much for everything you do for us! You're amazing, and we all appreciate you.

OH.MI.GOSH??!!!?!

Wah-

Thank you so much!!! Gah- I hope I can articulate an even somewhat intelligent response to literally ALL of this. Okay!

|

First off, I see what you did there and I frickin’ loved it ohmigosh best response ever!! 🙌✨

Secondly, I really really appreciate all your kind words. You seriously had me smiling the whole way through oh stars you’re too kind 🥹 Also, I’m very glad there are some of y’all out there that like the way I draw Donnie…especially traditionally, cuz I won’t lie…I get a bit over-critical of how I draw him hehe. Glossing over that teehee~ But seriously, I also really appreciate your respect of my time cuz I feel much less pressured and more seen as just a lil human doing art things, so thank you! 🌟

And lastly, I totally understand ya and I couldn’t agree more. It’s honestly better when I see other artists capture emotions cuz I just eat that up aaughh yes!! Ahem..I just hope that I can capture at least some emotional accuracy in my art, especially considering how dialogue is not my strong suit by a long shot hehe…

Awwwee! Thank you so much!! It was really fun sketching a silly lil moment like that, so I couldn’t be more grateful for the idea that inspired me 🤗

And finally, that’s where it gets complicated cuz…it’s honestly just complicated for me and my lil gremlin brain. I really do enjoy answering lil prompts and putting my own spin on them, but I can’t make it like…an official thing…? If that makes any sense. Like, I think I’ve seen a few artists on Tumblr put out a post for prompt asks, but that idea, for me, makes me very nervous. I naturally try not to think too much while I draw, I just feel my emotions, really. I dunno…maybe that’s a lame excuse gah..- but, as it stands, for now, I’m ~okay~ with answering the occasional prompt ask, but I won’t be making a post about it or anything. I’m just a little um..paranoid..?..after the whole spontaneous sticker war thing heh…

One last big thank you to you, anon 🙌🙌 I seriously appreciate it so much 💙✨

[leanbeefpattysimp3]

(Omg I can’t believe I’m finally writing this story, I’m so excited to be putting this into words for myself and you guys, I know that some people aren’t fans of fanfic OC stories, but to the people who do I really appreciate y’all and I hope you guys enjoy this story. If you’d like to learn more about my OC, Solomon, you can look at my pinned post. And please feel free to give constructive criticism, everything helps :)

Daughter of The Tiger Slayer( A Baki OC Story)

Chapter 1: Shuten-dōji

Solomon’s (OC) POV: “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of American Airlines, it is my pleasure to welcome you aboard flight 158 with service to Dallas, Texas and continuing service to Tokyo, Japan-” the airline lady on the speaker announced as I boarded the plane. I start walking towards where on the top on the entrance way read “First Class”. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to get on an airplane before just because of the fact I was able to purchase a first class ticket with the money I made from my last fight in Arizona. Who knew an old military man would pay anything to see you fight? “-If you are seated in an exit row, you may be required to assist the crew in an evacuation. If you are unable or unwilling to perform the functions described on the card, just ask to be re-seated. Thank-you.” Oh thank God she’s done talking, I get it’s her work voice but gah damn it sounds too nice and peppy. I get into the first class area, and holy shit this place is bougie! I’m not a fan of the word but I don’t know how else to explain how fancy this area is? Well, fancy technically is the word for it. As I’m looking for my seat I get a glimpse at a huge guy already sitting down in his spot…wait a second- is that? I get a better look and sure enough- “Mr.Unchained? Is that you?” I hear that laugh of his that I can’t mistake for anyone else’s. Mr.Unchained, whose real name is Biscuit Oliva, went to previous fights of mine, including the last one since it was so close to the Arizona State Prison. “Why it sure is kid, I had to come see you before you were able to run away forever!” Oliva laughs as he gets up and gives me a bear hug. “I would’ve came by and said goodbye to you and everyone but with how urgent this is-” “Kiddo you don’t gotta explain yourself, your family is a priority, that’s why I brought it upon myself to stop by before the plane took off.” He says as he pats your shoulder. He’s been like a father figure since I started fighting in America, helping me learn and understand that even brute strength can get you through fights. He didn’t teach me many things, but what he did teach me helped me get better as a fighter, and as a person. “Thank you for being understanding, I’m gonna miss you a lot Mr.Unchained” I’m trying to keep my composure but I let a few tears slide, I mean I’ve know all these people for so long but now I’m leaving them permanently, it hurts like hell, but it hurts more knowing that I almost just lost my dad and I would’ve never gotten to see him ever again. Oliva takes one of his handkerchiefs out of his pants pocket and wipes my tears, “It’ll hurt for awhile, but if you ever need me, I’m a phone call away and I’ll fly out to Japan the same day you call.” He gives me a big cheerful smile that makes me feel better. He gives me one more hug before starting to head out of the plane. “Oh and Solomon-” I look back towards the broad man standing on the other side of the entrance, “-you better kick some ass in Japan, Doppo will be very proud to see how much his daughter has grown, literally, you’re a giant compared to how small you were when I first met you!” He laughs as he walks out of the plane, and as soon as I can’t see him anymore people start filling up the plane. Definitely my que to find my spot- wait was that my spot Oliva was waiting for me in? I walk over to where he was sitting, and on the side table was a card with a box. I put the duffel bag I’ve been carrying under my seat as I sit down and grab the card, It’s really pretty, gold and a sage looking green splattered around it. I open the card and read it, “My last gift to you, Solomon Orochi. -Biscuit Oliva” it wrote. I look over at the box and pick it up, it’s quite light for a gift from Oliva. I open the box and take out the thin blue paper that was cover a new set of fighting clothes, the typical shorts and sports bra. Once I saw the clothes I took them out of the box to look at, they were completely black besides what was written on the chest of the sports bra, which was my fighting name, Shuten-dōji.

[seakicker]

Miss Seakicker HI! 🦦 anon here, I just wanted to pop in and ask a question but before that;

How have you been? I’m loving the new theme and layout for your blog! I hope you’re drinking enough water and taking enough breaks. We can’t have Fertility archon Juju getting sick!

I started playing Tears of The Kingdom and there’s a place called Joju-u-u Shrine in the game (we almost had Juju Shrine!) I went bra shopping earlier (nothing spicy, just needed some new ones).

I’m not really sure how else to ask this but do you have any advice for when the insecurities about one’s body image start to get…loud? Like some days I’ll feel good in a pair of pants because i fill them out really well but then there’ll be bad days like the time i spent 2 hours on an online site buying a kazuha cosplay because I didn’t want to admit i was a size bigger. (I bought the bigger size in the end and that one fits like a glove)

Feel free to answer this whenever you like! - 🦦 anon

HELLOOOOOOO SWEETHEART GAH i’m very late in answering this because i’m just tryin to find the motivation to use tumblr consistently again, but i was thinking about this ask again today bc i’ve had it in drafts since you sent it to me. i’ve been working a ton but i’m alright; drinking water and working on eating healthier for myself 😊❤️ what kinds of things do you think we’d do at a juju shrine… 🤔👀

as far as the insecurity part goes, honestly i’ve found that staying off the internet entirely on days where you’re maybe feeling a little worse about yourself is extremely beneficial. with how prevalent bodychecking and diet culture BS are on tiktok and instagram in particular and with how advanced filters and photoshop have gotten (remember when people considered it impossible to use filters/edits on videos? good times), taking a bit of a detox and staving off of doomscrolling rlly go a long way on days where i may not be feeling the best about myself. like, i’ve seen people recommend eating an entire block of cream cheese under the guise of health because keto influencers love spinning nonsense and trying to make you genuinely believe that an entire brick of cream cheese is inherently better for you than a single piece of bread for toast, lol.

at any rate, i think it’s good to remind yourself that you are real and your body is real and not everything you see online is real— most people are able to (rightfully) internalize that they shouldn’t compare their bodies to digital art or anime characters, and i think that mentally should extend to just about any 3D picture you see online— while i’m not inherently anti-photoshop or anything like that, i DO think it’s harmful for these people who participate in photoshopping their pics or using filters to pass it off as (A) all natural genetics and/or (B) simple diet and exercise because no amount of genetics, diet, or exercise are gonna give you a 13 inch waist and 42 inch hips. even pictures of real life people can be twisted to the point where they might as well be fictitious, but your body is real when you look at it and real in anything and everything you wear, so why worry about how it stacks up compared to a picture that’s certainly edited?

i first read this on pinterest in like high school but it’s honestly sound advice and something that’s really stuck with me— we don’t get mad at our feet for being too small/too big/too wide/too narrow when shoes don’t fit, we just buy a different size— shouldn’t the same idea extend to all our clothes? our bodies aren’t made to fit clothes, clothes are made to fit our bodies— and buying a bigger cosplay to fit you better isn’t a fault of yours nor your body’s. you got this ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[itsnotreal]

for the fake title game; the battery is dead

Oh god.. okay this is harder than I thought.. 👀 Gah

Harry let out a deep breath, and scowled at his phone screen, cheek resting in his hand, as he scrolled through his ex’s Facebook. “Glad to know he’s already forgotten about me.” He mumbled to himself, locking his phone and throwing it on the other side of the couch.

It had only been three weeks. How could the stupidly perfect for him, blue-eyed man have already moved on? With a defeated groan, he crawled over the couch and snatched his phone up, finding Louis’ contact and pressing call.

Heart racing, he listened as it rang three times and then went to voicemail. “Fucker.” He whispered to himself before the robotic beep sounded.

Without even thinking it through he angrily said into the voicemail box, “It’s been three fucking weeks and you’ve already got a new man?” He scoffed. “I mean Jesus fuck, Lou. I’m still half in love with you and you’ve already moved on. I can’t believe it’s actually over. I just—,” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat before continuing softly, “I wish you’d change your mind.”

He hung up the phone, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. Fuck. Why had he done that? They hadn’t spoken since the break up. Damn it. Now he was the crazy ex.

His phone buzzed from where it laid face down on the couch, and when he lifted it up, there was Louis’ photo on the screen. It had been taken when they were vacationing in the Bahamas. The crystal blue water made Louis’ eyes almost white, they were such a light colored blue.

It finally dawned on him that Louis was calling him back. Oh god. He was probably so pissed.

Harry pressed the green answer button and brought the phone up to his ear, but before he could say anything, Louis started talking. “Are you serious? You think I’m with someone else so quickly? God.” There was a huff of disbelief. “Do you even know me, Harry?”

Harry was so tired, he didn’t even want to argue anymore, “I miss you.” He whispered.

There was a soft sigh on the line, “Haz, I miss you so much it aches.”

Harry’s voice trembled as he said, “Then why can’t we do this?”

The line was quiet for a moment, and then so softly Harry had to strain to listen, Louis said, “You know why.” And then the line went dead.

Or maybe they could try again. They just needed to compromise. Isn’t that what relationships were? Compromise and communication? Harry just needed Louis to listen to reason.

—

I’m not sure if this is what I was supposed to do… but um.. that was way more angsty than I’ve ever written oops!! Hope you like it!

[sapphic-luthor]

i thibk you are the first person i’ve heard say johnny d is not the victim. it’s got me thinking, have i been fkn brainwashed by all the media i see???? it’s so hard in these situations because statistics say amber will be the victim. but she might not be. but she might also be. gah, i wish the truth was easy to uncover.

gonna answer this under the cut and please god everyone this is not an invitation for discourse

i’m not going to do the whole “but the evidence this!! and this tiktok!! and this meme!!!” bullshit because abuse and domestic violence are not, in any capacity, the sort of things that can be packaged into little tweets or meme videos designed specifically for engagement. and more importantly, the case is really just that: a legal case that’s in the hands of the court, that ultimately has nothing to do with you or i.

but what does have to do with me as a woman and as a lesbian is the way the media frenzy of this case is warping the public consciousness when talking about trauma and abuse. i really, really, urge you to take a look at what sort of information is being shared and by whom, and what sort narrative theyre trying to push— you will find blatant misogyny spurring a LOT of this conversation.

i do think its important to say that nobody on twitter or tiktok or making rant videos on youtube with big bright clickbait icons should be considered a source of truth of information regarding what was obviously an extremely volatile interpersonal relationship between two people who absolutely none of us know personally, and whose celebrity statuses directly affect the publics made-up perception of their characters.

misogynists salivate over the myth of the wrongly accused man. look at how many people are instantaneously accusing women like megan thee stallion (who literally got shot!) and evan rachel wood (who was kidnapped, tortured, branded, and repeatedly assaulted on camera in a music video that’s still on youtube to this fucking day) of lying or attention seeking or whatever, because they can’t bear to imagine the accused men as the monsters they are. look at the pass people give r kelly and chris brown!

abuse allegations are, by their nature, extremely traumatic to share and often extremely intimately tied up in ptsd, guilt, shame, memory loss, you name it. i don’t know what’s going to happen in this defamation case, and i almost don’t care because i dont respect the US legal system at all. but i do know that none of the disastrous effects or realities of abuse on a victim should ever be turned into content, and the next time you see a tiktok like “here’s a picture of amber heard SMILING a day AFTER she LIED about xyz!!!” with a backyardigans theme song or what the hell ever i want you to really consider the way women and their suffering are so often turned into caricatures by the public, the way women are never, ever, fucking believed regardless of if they have evidence or witnesses or whatever, and also maybe why the venn diagram of people who don’t believe other victims and who insist JD is innocent is a literal circle.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

A Compulsive Gambler?!

Yumeko Jabami x She/Her Reader

A/N: Could you imagine Yumeko dating someone and they have no idea she’s, ya know, a gambling freak? I bet she would have a hard time pulling back like, she’d still gamble with her SO but in a sneaky, more subdued way. Something like, ‘if you can guess what number I’m thinking of you can pick what we eat for dinner’, or something like that. Seems innocent enough but she just can’t help herself into turning some interactions into gambles. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! Word Count: 5,170

For perhaps the first time since Mary met Yumeko, the girl was a nervous wreck. The usually carefree gambling addict was pacing around the near empty classroom while she twisted the ring on her thumb around and around again with no sign of stopping. Finally, Mary had had enough. If Suzui wasn’t going to be useful and ask what the hell was going on, she would do it herself.

“What the hell is your problem? Are you going through withdrawals or something?” Mary asked with an annoyed huff.

“Oh Mary-san!” Yumeko practically moaned, the back of her hand raised to her forehead with over dramatic flair, “I don’t know what to do!”

“About what?” Mary asked, accompanied with an annoyed eye roll.

“My girlfriend is coming to visit tomorrow and she’s going to be staying with me over the weekend!” Yumeko blushed cupping her hands over her face at the mere thought of it all. It just made Mary more annoyed.

“And? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“You have a girlfriend?” Ryota blinked, the poor boy seemed to always be falling behind.

“Yes, we’ve been together since our last year of middle school. We went to the same high school too until I transferred,” Yumeko gushed while she hugged herself, twisting and swaying slightly on her feet, “I love her so much! It’s been hard to be away from her all this time!”

Ryota scratched his cheek. “Then... why do you seem so uneasy?”

“Well that’s easy!” Yumeko cheered, a dazzling smile over her lips. A moment passed by and Yumeko appeared to pale considerably and a nervous sweat dotted her face, her body trembled and yet, the smile stayed in place. Mary and Ryota side eyed each other before staring back at Yumeko, waiting.

“She doesn’t know about my severe gambling addiction!” Yumeko finally disclosed.

“What?!” Mary and Ryota spoke in unison.

“Yes, it’s hard to believe isn’t it?” Yumeko sighed. “I’ve kept it hidden from her all this time because I feared what she would think of me if she found out. That, and I wouldn’t want her to get hurt from tagging along. I love that girl dearly and I can’t risk losing her.”

“How are you going to keep your secret, Yumeko?” Ryota’s worry for his friend was plain on his face.

“That’s where I’m hoping you two will come in!” Yumeko grasped a hand of Mary’s and Ryota’s in both of hers, a pleading pout on her face. “Help me keep her occupied and away from any mention of gambling!”

“Are you an idiot?” Mary scoffed, not waiting for an answer. “This school is all about gambling! Not to mention we’re in the midst of this insane election. You’d be better off just having her wait off of school grounds rather than parading her around for all your enemies to see.”

“Please Mary-san, it’s only for one day!” Yumeko cooed. She tried to wrap the blonde up in her arms, but Mary stood and held her away at arm’s length.

“I’m not gonna go out of my way for this fool’s errand. I’ve got to go meet with Ririka now. Figure it out yourself, but if you want my advice you should just come clean.” Mary said, giving Yumeko one last shove as she made her way out of the classroom.

“Oh yes, do you think Ririka-san would help? Maybe we could get Itsuki in on it as well!”

“You’re on your own!” Mary called from the hallway, making Yumeko whine.

“I’ll help you Yumeko.” Ryota predictably volunteered.

“Thank you, Ryota!” Yumeko bounced giddily, “Hopefully everything will run smoothly tomorrow if we play our cards right!”

***

“(Y/n)!” Yumeko jumped the girl as soon as she saw her approach the gates of the prestigious academy and showered her face with dozens of little kisses that made her girlfriend laugh and try to wiggle away from the continuous onslaught.

“Yumeko! I take it you missed me too then?” (Y/n) smiled, catching Yumeko’s face in her hands so she could land a few kisses of her own.

“Of course! You know it was one of the hardest decisions of my life to transfer here. I need to make up for lost time!” Yumeko grinned in return. She was about to steal another kiss when someone cleared their throat behind her.

“Oh, right!” Yumeko recalled, pulling (Y/n) to her side until they were near flush together. “Ryota, this is (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Suzui Ryota, one of my friends!”

“Nice to meet you.” Ryota said. He was no stranger to feeling out of place, but after that intimate display he had never felt more awkward.

“Nice to meet you too, Suzui-san. I hope Yumeko hasn’t caused you too much trouble.” (Y/n) joked.

Thoughts of millions of yen in debt, gambling for nails, house pets, guns in a seedy basement, among other things, flashed almost violently in Ryota’s mind but he managed to keep a somewhat pleasant expression as he answered.

“Not at all! Yumeko’s a model student,” he lied.

“Oh god, I thought you’d be in the classroom by now. So much for a quiet morning.”

“Mary-san! Good morning!” Yumeko pivoted, still holding (Y/n) close, “Come meet my (Y/n)!”

“Hi. Saotome Mary. It’s a pleasure. Excuse us a second.” (Y/n) blinked and Mary was halfway through the courtyard before she noticed Yumeko being dragged along with her.

“Are you stupid?” Mary whispered harshly with no preamble once she found a secluded spot in the trees.

“Mary-san, what are we doing?” Yumeko asked, tilting her head like an inquisitive puppy would.

“How about what are you doing?” Mary hissed back. “The whole school must know you’re dating at this point!”

“Well that’s good isn’t it?”

“It’s the exact opposite of good! Do you have any idea how many people are gonna try to use her against you now? Use your head a little!”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to help me, Mary-san.” Yumeko giggled, “but you really do care about my happiness, don’t you?”

“Shut up!” Mary blushed, pushing Yumeko away before she could hug her. “I just don’t want some innocent girl to get caught up in this crazy school. Just be more discreet from now on. She already sticks out like a sore thumb without the Hyakkaou uniform.”

“I’ll do my best Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped. “It’ll be hard though since she’s just so kissable.”

“I didn’t ask.”

When they got back to the gate, they only saw Suzui looking around desperately while sweating bullets. When he finally saw Mary and Yumeko walking towards him, he ran up to them, breathing heavily.

“Ryota? Where did (Y/n) go?” Yumeko smiled.

“Iki... Ikishima’s girls took her! Tried to.. stop them but—“ Ryota panted and wheezed, stopping the retelling of his account once Yumeko rose her hand to his lips, directing him to silence.

“See? What did I tell you?” Mary groused. “And Ikishima of all people...” Mary shut her mouth tightly upon seeing the look on Yumeko’s face. The pure disgust and hatred that rolled off of her made Mary’s skin crawl.

“Ryota, Mary,” Yumeko eerily called, “it’s time for me to get my (Y/n) back from her visit to the trash heap. You’ll accompany me won’t you?”

It went without saying that Mary and Ryota followed after their friend. Whether out of fear or support, it could have gone either way. Even Mary thought it wise not to berate the usually carefree girl with ‘I told you so’s’ in this state.

They hurried to the bowels of the school and pushed through the beautification committee members. The members didn’t retaliate, one look at Yumeko’s face was enough to make them part their ranks like Moses and the sea. Yumeko approached the big metal door and knocked three times, loud metal echoes rung out over the hum of generators and fluorescent lights.

A wild laugh sounded upon the knocks. An eager cry of, ‘she’s here!’ could clearly be heard from inside as quick steps over linoleum could be heard tapping in rapid succession towards the door before it was wrenched open with a heinous squeak from its hinges that nearly matched pitch with Midari’s own delighted squeal upon being face to face with Yumeko.

“Yu-me-ko!” Midari sang, “so glad you could join us!”

Yumeko breezed past Midari without so much as a glance and went straight for (Y/n) who was tied to a chair in the middle of the room like some crime movie.

“Oh my (Y/n), are you alright?” Yumeko cooed, freeing (Y/n) from the gag and turning her face in her hands to look her over.

“I think so,” (Y/n) shivered, “just what kind of school do you go to where people are kidnapped at gunpoint?!”

The thought of Ikishima pressing that dirty gun against (Y/n)’s head made Yumeko want to curb stomp Ikishima’s head into a fine paste, but the deranged girl would have just loved that, wouldn’t she? Instead she worked on untying the ropes from (Y/n)’s middle, comforting her girlfriend along the way.

“It’s alright my love! The beautification committee is just really serious about following the dress code. They won’t bother you anymore.”

“Yumeko,” Midari moaned from behind her, “I brought her her so you would gah—!”

Mary slapped the girl hard over the back of her head and gave her a warning look. Midari shut up more out of the delight of being hit more than anything else.

“...’Gah’?” (Y/n) flicked her eyes over everyone in the room, trying to get some kind of explanation for what the hell was going on.

“‘Gah?’” Yumeko repeated right back with a smile. “Whatever does that mean, my dear?”

“I don’t know, the girl with the eye patch said it.” (Y/n) replied, finally loose from her bindings, she rubbed her hands over her arms where the scratchy rope had dug in.

“Oh sweetheart, you must be seeing things. I see no such girl here.” Yumeko said, causing a whimper to fall from Midari’s lips. “Let’s get to my class now, shall we?”

“Anywhere is better than here.” (Y/n) sighed, choosing not to question Yumeko about the girl who had taken her. She clearly didn’t like her and after being dragged here against her will, (Y/n) couldn’t say she enjoyed the crazed girl’s company either.

“That’s my girl,” Yumeko cooed, pulling (Y/n) tightly against her side. They walked past Midari as she blubbered and crawled over the floor towards Yumeko only to have the metal door slammed in her face.

“Come on, we’re already late!” Mary griped. “Some of us have scholarships to keep!”

“I just can’t wait to be sitting in a classroom with my (Y/n) again,” Yumeko sighed dreamily, “it will be just like old times!”

“Yeah.” (Y/n) smiled though she was still coming to terms with being held at gunpoint for wearing the wrong uniform. Yumeko hadn’t even seemed to be phased by it. Like it was something that was part of the school policy. We’re all rich people schools like this? Whatever, (Y/n) wasn’t going to let this one setback, no matter how momentarily terrifying, ruin her weekend with Yumeko.

Before they could make it to their classroom, the were jumped by another second year student with literal stars in her eyes as she grabbed Yumeko’s hands.

“Yumeko, I’m so glad I caught you!” She cheered.

“Oh hello Yumemi, what are you doing outside our classroom?” Yumeko asked.

“Waiting for you! It’s been so long since the Dreaming Creaming Sisters have performed and I need you to pretty please join me for a concert!” Yumemi sparkled.

“Dream—“ (Y/n) tried to muffle her inelegant snort with her hand but the action immediately drew in Yumemi’s attention, the idol’s face darkened slightly.

“Oh? What’s so funny stranger?” Yumemi asked with faux sweetness.

“I, um, sorry. It’s just uh, a unique group name you’ve got there.” (Y/n) answered sheepishly.

“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better rhyme for dreaming!”

“Scheming, beaming, redeeming... meme-ing.” (Y/n) listed the first words that came to her head, making Yumemi’s smile tighten further with every suggestion.

“Who’s your friend, Yumeko?” The idol asked, fake interest rolling off her tongue.

“This is my girlfriend (Y/n)!” Yumeko said with pride. “Isn’t she just so cute and smart?”

‘Smart ass maybe.’ Yumemi thought to herself.

“Anyway, I’m sorry but I can’t perform with you right now. I’ve got class and I don’t want to leave (Y/n) alone.” Yumeko explained, hugging the girl for emphasis.

“I didn’t know you were part of an idol group now, Yumeko.” (Y/n) said as Yumeko guided her towards the doorway.

“It’s just a side hobby really.”

Before they could enter Yumemi pulled (Y/n) out of Yumeko’s hold, hugging her from behind, her starry eyes dancing with mischief.

“You’ve never seen Yumeko preform then, have you (Y/n)-san?” Yumemi asked, still hugging the other girl close as she weaved her trap.

“Yumeko has sang to me before, so I know she can sing very well.” (Y/n) admitted bashfully. “I’ve never seen her act as a full blown idol before though.”

“Isn’t that something you’d like to see? We could have it all set up in a matter of minutes, wouldn’t that be great?” Yumemi coaxed.

“I wouldn’t want Yumeko to do something she doesn’t want to do. Besides, her class is starting soon.” (Y/n) said.

“I didn’t hear a no.” Yumemi sing-songed while (Y/n)’s face buzzed with heat.

“If you’d like to see then I don’t really mind, (Y/n).” Yumeko grinned, pulling her away from Yumemi, “I like the idea of singing directly to you in a sea of people. They’ll all know exactly how much you mean to me.”

“Yumeko..” (Y/n) hid her face in the giggling gambling addict’s chest.

“Oh for the love of— are we going to class or not?” Mary yelled impatiently.

“I’m afraid I have a concert to prepare for Mary-san. Will you come watch with (Y/n)?” Yumeko asked.

“Fine whatever.” Mary bristled.

They all made to leave when Mary halted Ryota with a hand to his chest.

“Wh- what?” He asked, jumpily.

“You are going to stay here and take notes. They better be good ones too.” Mary threatened.

“But—“

“Notes, Suzui.” Mary commanded. The poor boy gave a resigned nod and with drooping shoulders he sulked into the classroom.

***

While Yumeko and Yumemi prepared backstage, Mary and (Y/n) found their seats and made light conversation as more bodies filed into the seats around them. Despite dating Yumeko, Mary found that (Y/n) seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.

“Saotome-san, what is that boy taking bets for?” (Y/n) asked.

“It’s just some weird niche idol thing Yumemite does. Don’t worry about it.” Mary dismissed, though inside she was worried this would become a bigger gamble that she couldn’t possibly cover up.

“This rich people school is so weird.” (Y/n) commented offhandedly.

“Tell me about it.” Mary agreed.

The house lights dimmed and the stage was set aglow. Upbeat music began to play and the crowd around them cheered as Yumeko and Yumemi entered the stage.

They sang their opening song and (Y/n) watched with delight, her heart beating faster every time Yumeko would meet her eyes throw a flirtatious wink or smile her way. (Y/n) would wave the red glow stick she was given in return.

“Now it’s time for the event you’ve all been waiting for!” Yumemi yelled over the crowd, causing them to cheer again. “The rematch of the century!”

“Rematch? What is she talking about Saotome-san?” (Y/n) asked.

“Ah, there just seeing who can do best in various idol based competitions.” Mary responded, truly hoping that that would be it, but Yumemite wasn’t done talking just yet.

“Before you all got here, one lucky seat was chosen for the spotlight! Let’s see who it is, shall we?”

Yumemi swept her hand across the packed auditorium and one light after the other blinked across the sea of bodies while the audience cheered. A bright light shone on (Y/n) and she blinked at the sudden brightness, surprised when the light didn’t immediately flicker back off.

“And there we have it! Our visiting guest from another school, how lucky you are!” Yumemi said with mock surprise as if she hadn’t had the thing rigged from the get go.

“You’ve won the opportunity to go on a date with one of us, the Dreaming Creaming Sisters! How will it be determined who you go out with? Well, it all depends on which one of us wins this gamb—“

“Game!” Yumeko hurriedly interjected, a faint gleam of sweat streaked down her cheek.

“Well, yes, I suppose ‘game’ is also accurate.” Yumemi cocked her head at the strange outburst. Yumemi didn’t really care what Yumeko called the gamble, she just had to win it. What better way to get back at the girl than to steal her girlfriend away for a night.

“The rules to this game are simple Yumeko-chan! There will be three rounds: perfect pitch, name the tune, and choreography memory match. Win two out of three, and you’ll get to go out with our lucky chair holder! Lose, and you’ll be paying for mine and (Y/n)’s night out. I’ll warn you, I’m not cheap!” Yumemi said with a showy laugh.

“But, I’m already dating Yumeko,” (Y/n) frowned, “I can’t go on a date with someone else!”

“Just hope Yumeko wins then.” Mary sighed. At least Yumemi’s way of gambling wasn’t too obvious. Her gambles were big and grand, but to an outsider they weren’t immediately discernible as anything but stage entertainment.

“Let’s make this quick, Yumemi-chan!” Yumeko smiled, hoping she could keep her desire to up the stakes in check.

Yumeko won perfect pitch, matching nearly every note with perfect accuracy. Yumemi won name the tune as many of the songs were conveniently of a western selection. Last was the choreography memory game and (Y/n) was nervous.

(Y/n) knew that Yumeko had a splendid memory, but the girl also detested demanding physical excursions such as this. She was probably already tired from dancing at the start of the show. To (Y/n), it was not looking to good for her girlfriend.

But to (Y/n)’s surprise, Yumeko followed the impromptu routine like a champ. Yumeko refused to let Yumemi outdo her, all for the sake of keeping (Y/n) close.

“She’s going to be so sore after this.” (Y/n) marveled. “You know I used to have to threaten her to make her go to gym class?”

“You could actually make her go to gym class?” Mary rose a brow, impressed. She hadn’t seen Yumeko attend gym class since the first week of her transferring. While Mary was still a house pet, she took great pleasure in watching Yumeko suffer through that class period.

Minutes went by and the two girls each adorned a a sleek sheen of sweat as they continued to dance, matching each other step for step. The fans were going wild at the display, waiting to see how would win the dance battle of a lifetime.

Then it happened in a flash. Yumemi, in her desire to get back at Yumeko for their last gamble against Natari Kawaru, tried to add a very complex step in her next turn and fell to the stage which led to her loss.

“Jabami Yumeko wins!” The MC announced.

Saori appeared from behind stage to help Yumemi back to her feet. Though pissed and embarrassed, Yumemi hid her feelings well and congratulated Yumeko on her win.

They closed off the concert with one final song and then the event was over.

“Have a nice dinner on me!” Yumemi sparkled, shaking (Y/n)’s hand after the show before walking back to her dressing room with Saori in tow. The poor manager was sure to get an earful from the idol once they were away from polite company.

Yumeko practically collapsed in (Y/n)’s arms.

“(Y/n), I’m so tired! Carry me!” Yumeko whined.

“After all that hard work you did? Happily.” (Y/n) hoisted Yumeko onto her back and the sweaty girl squeaked joyfully, wrapping her arms around (Y/n)’s neck.

The trio talked about the show as they walked (or in Yumeko’s case, carried) through the halls, slowly making their way back to the classroom for the next class period. Mary paused in her next comment as loud, purposeful steps were quickly catching up to them.

“Jabami Yumeko!” A voice filled with contempt called from behind them.

“Oh, Sayaka! How good to see you!” Yumeko smiled, sliding off of (Y/n)’s back to try to greet the secretary with a hug.

Sayaka dodged the attempt on her life, zapping her taser in warning as she glared at the demon before her. (Y/n) wondered if all the students were allowed to carry such dangerous items at school.

“You are in violation of school rules!” Sayaka sternly informed. “You did not fill out the proper paperwork to bring an outsider into Hyakkaou.”

“Really Yumeko,” Mary scoffed, “those are like, the easiest papers to fill out.”

“I’m sorry Sayaka, it must have slipped my mind.” Yumeko apologized.

“Your apologies mean nothing to me. Escort the girl out now.” Sayaka clipped.

“All I want is to spend time with my girlfriend. Surely you could make an exception just this once, Sayaka, friend?” Yumeko pleaded.

“Don’t refer to me as your friend,” Sayaka’s jaw clenched, “better yet, don’t refer to me ever.” Then Sayaka’s expression switched from hostile to something akin to a hopeful curiousness. “Did you say girlfriend? Like dating... monogamously perhaps? As in, you aren’t looking to be dating someone else right now? You want to spend more time with her than anyone else?”

“Yes!” Yumeko nodded, smiling obliviously.

Sayaka turned her attention to (Y/n), walking up to the other girl and grasping (Y/n)’s hands tightly in hers.

“Never break up with her,” Sayaka said, the closeness of her face scaring (Y/n) slightly, “please.”

“I um, wasn’t planning on it.” (Y/n) stuttered in reply.

“My, what do we have going on here?” A silky voice called from behind the group. Sayaka gasped and removed her hands from (Y/n) as if they had burned her.

“President! Vice president! What are you doing here?” The secretary asked.

“I’ve been hearing rumors of Yumeko stirring up my aquarium with a new fish.” Kirari’s lips curled in an interested smile as she eyed the unfamiliar girl. “This must be the one, hm?”

“This is (L/n) (Y/n), my girlfriend. She’s visiting me over the long weekend and I wanted to show her around the school to maximize our time together. Unfortunately I didn’t fill out the proper forms, you’ll allow it won’t you president? Please?” Yumeko explained with a cute pout that made Sayaka livid.

“Of course.” Kirari easily complied, tapping a blue nail against her smiling, equally blue lips. “She’ll just have to gamble with me first.”

Oh no. She said it.

“Gamble?” (Y/n) looked at the president questioningly while Yumeko and Mary hosted a silent eye battle between themselves to figure out how to deescalate the situation.

“Yes, dating Yumeko, I can imagine you must be amazing at it to catch her eye,” Kirari produced a pack of cards from her blazer, “any preferences?”

“I’m not much of a gambler, neither is Yumeko. I’m not quite sure I understand.” (Y/n) answered.

“Not much of a gambler, Yumeko?” Kirari’s lips rose into a highly amused smile.

“What she means to say is that I’ve dabbled in some friendly school gambles while I’ve been here. It’s kind of a tradition at this school, (Y/n). All in good fun.” Yumeko laughed.

“Yes, try telling that to the house pets.” Kirari mused.

“Could you just, shut up for like, five minutes?” Mary seethed, turning to the masked girl standing silently at Kirari’s left, “I thought I told you to keep your sister occupied today so this exact thing wouldn’t happen.”

Ririka shyly removed her mask, looking contrite. “I tried but she wanted to know what Igarashi-san was doing.”

“Could someone please explain to me what is going on here?” (Y/n) asked holding her hands out expectantly as she looked over each face in the little group they had formed in the middle of the hall.

“How about this,” Kirari circled the girl, “you beat me in a gamble and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“And if I lose?” (Y/n) questioned.

“No penalty. This is highly entertaining for me as it stands. I just want to know if I can see what Yumeko sees in you.”

“Then I guess I don’t see the harm in it.”

“Excellent. Let’s take this party to the student council room shall we?”

Yumeko nervously twirled her ring as she watched (Y/n) sit across from the president. Kirari had all sorts of gambling dirt of her, as much as she loved (Y/n), she hoped the girl would lose this one.

“Blackjack?” Kirari asked as she shuffled the deck.

“I don’t know how to play that actually.” (Y/n) said.

“That’s fine. Texas Hold ‘Em?”

“No, sorry.”

“How about gin rummy?”

“Haven’t heard of it.”

“Thirty-one?”

“Nope.”

“Ten card no peek baseball?”

“Is that a real thing?”

“What card game do you know?” Kirari tried instead.

“...Go Fish?” (Y/n) replied.

“A woman after my own heart.” Kirari said, causing Sayaka to pout severely.

Kirari dealt the cards, spreading the remaining deck face down between them and the game was set. The pairs flowed evenly for the first couple minutes until (Y/n) had to go fish and Kirari obtained a small lead on her. (Y/n) just as quickly turned the tides a few turns later with a good guessing streak that landed her five more pairs.

The casual luck and easy going attitude (Y/n) presented while gambling with the president made Yumeko even more attracted to her girlfriend by the second, but still she hoped Kirari would turn it back around somehow.

It appeared luck wasn’t on Yumeko’s side however, as (Y/n) won the game with three more pairs then Kirari. The president smiled, mildly impressed by the outsider’s victory.

“Well then, what questions do you have for me?” She asked, shifting in her seat to cross her legs the other way.

“So this is some crazy gambling school, right?” (Y/n) asked with no preamble, not pulling any punches.

“Crazy would be subjective, but gambling is as important in this school as breathing. I’ve made sure of that.” Kirari answered.

“And Yumeko gambles.” (Y/n) said, mostly looking for acknowledgement that clarified the validity of the statement.

“Yes, one of the best in the school.” Kirari praised.

“It’s not dangerous though, right? She hasn’t done anything too drastic?”

Yumeko bowed her head, twisting her ring with a bit more force. A blush coated her skin as her heartbeat pounded in her chest. This was like a gamble in itself and oh, how intense it felt!

“Mm, hard to say.” Kirari shrugged, “I feel as though our definitions of these terms may differ.”

(Y/n) turned to face Yumeko who looked every bit the part of a scolded puppy. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. Not for Kirari to answer anyway.

“Yumeko, just what have you been up to?” (Y/n) asked, covering Yumeko’s hands to cease their twisting.

“(Y/n), I’ve been hiding something from you.” She sniffled, “I’ve been hiding it from you for a long time!”

“What is it?” (Y/n) asked gently, patting the girl’s silky hair.

“I’m, I’m a compulsive gambler!”

“Really?” (Y/n) was stunned.

“Yes, it’s true. I’ve had so many gambles I know you wouldn’t approve of.” Yumeko blinked her tears away as she allowed the truth to be out in the open. “I’ve gambled myself into millions worth of debt just so I could gamble even more, I’ve bet my finger nails, I’ve played Russian Roulette, I’ve bet my free will against become a pop idol and never being able to date again... I’m sorry you had to find it all out like this.”

“Yumeko...” (Y/n) was speechless, she didn’t know what to make of all this. Her sweet, adorable girlfriend had an intense gambling addiction that made her put herself in harm’s way on the daily?

“Please don’t break up, please don’t break up, please don’t...” Sayaka mumbled quietly to herself, rolling something that looked suspiciously like prayer beads in her hands. All the poor secretary wanted was for the snake to have a keeper that would pull her attention away from her president, was that so much to ask for?

(Y/n) sighed through her nose and pinched Yumeko’s arm harshly.

“Ow!” Yumeko whined.

“That’s for keeping secrets.” (Y/n) huffed, pinching Yumeko’s other arm, “that’s for putting yourself in dangerous situations. And this,”

Yumeko closed her eyes, waiting for another stinging pinch. Instead, she received a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“This is an apology for making you feel like you had to hide from me. I love you.”

“I love you too!” Yumeko sniffled, knocking her head into (Y/n)’s chest as she hugged her tightly.

“This doesn’t mean you’re getting a free pass anymore though, no more life changing gambles!”

“...how about three a week.” Yumeko asked shyly.

“Once a month max. You’ll kill me, my heart won’t be able to take the stress.”

“This day has been exhausting.” Mary groaned. “I thought I wasn’t going to let myself be dragged into this idiotic mess.”

“You’re a true friend, Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped.

“Ugh,” Mary ignored her, “come on Ririka, we’re running late for our next election gamble.

Ririka hurried over to the blonde and they exited the room together. (Y/n) and Yumeko followed after giving a cheery goodbye to the amused president and her disgruntled secretary.

“Lessons are over for the day,” Yumeko grinned, hugging (Y/n)’a arm as they walked towards the front gates of the school. “I bet you’re hungry, we didn’t even have time for lunch.”

“Food sounds awesome right now. Any suggestions?”

“I know a few places that might be good. We can go over them while we get ready in my apartment.”

“Sounds great.”

“Don’t let money discourage your final decision. Remember that Yumemi has graciously agreed to pay for our date tonight!”

“Oh yes, how could I forget my almost date with a pop star. How are your legs feeling by the way?”

“They’re so sore (Y/n)! Every step hurts!” Yumeko whined.

“Alright,” (Y/n) bent forward, “up, up.”

“Yay!” Yumeko cheered hopping onto (Y/n)’s back.

Yumeko refused to get off of (Y/n)’s back until they got home... which made taking the bus a little awkward.

~~~

Bonus Scene

Ryota sat stalk still in his desk, watching the hours tick by in the darkened classroom only lit by the soft light from the street lamps outside. He looked down at his notebook, filled with notes, two identical hand written copies for Mary and Yumeko. He looked back at the door, waiting for it to slide open.

“Yumeko, Mary-san,” Ryota weakly called, “please come back soon, I’m so hungry.”

[221bshrlocked]

taste you on my tongue

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 9441 (I can’t fucking write anything shorter I’m sorry)

Warnings: Angst and Smut. Helmet is on and then it’s off. Oral (male receiving). Soft then rough sex. Breeding kink. Touch kink. Hand kink? Dirty/Sweet Talk. Mando feels primal when he sees you wearing his shirt and flirting with someone that isn’t him.

Summary: The Revenant was a fairly spacious gunship compared to others and you prided yourself in keeping it running for this long, especially after you were told it would soon lose its “life force.” But when a certain Mandalorian and his foundling join your ship following a disastrous mission, you find that the Revenant isn’t as big as you initially thought. In fact, it is much less private than you wish to admit and you find yourself escaping to a cantina one night to avoid the bounty hunter who isn’t aware of the effect he has on you. The problem is, the Mandalorian doesn’t like to share anything with anyone, and that rule applies to you. Unfortunately (or perhaps luckily) for you, you learn about this rule the hard way.

A/N: I hope yall like these because I’m currently spiraling down a Din Djarin hole and I’m not remotely apologetic. Let me know how it is in the comments and how I can make the smut better or the characterization better. Please, I can’t improve unless yall tell me what I’m doing wrong. Also, I promise to write more smut than angst next time. Enjoy :) And @purple-mango​ sorry it wasn’t as rough as you probably hoped, I was feeling soft Din but mark my words, the next one will be rough.

The obnoxious laughter coming from one of the corners of the cantina made you shake your head as the tavern-keeper approached you and motioned towards your glass. He smiled when you enthusiastically nodded and held out the finished drink, silently asking him to pour some more of the Tevraki whiskey because there was nothing you wanted more than to forget the past few months.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was something, or rather someone, that you wanted more than your need to set aside what’s been going on since that shitshow of a showdown on Tatooine. Coincidentally, or perhaps ironically, that someone had to do with what happened on the desert planet. You smiled at the man in front of you who knew better than to argue about how many drinks you’ve downed thus far. 

As the thoughts slithered back to the source of your frustration, you couldn’t help but let your eyes take in your surroundings, shamelessly hoping to find someone who could fill that deep-seated need seeping through your chest and into your heart. No one would compare to him of course, and you knew that very well. But you couldn’t stand another hour on that ship without scratching that itch that’s been bothering you ever since he joined your ship with that annoyingly cute green goblin. You took a sip and returned your attention to the man wiping down the counter in front of you, already thinking of just skipping all the pleasantries and going back to his place.

“If you point him out to me, I can pay him a visit later and roughen him up a bit.” He leaned over and pointed behind you, pouring himself a shot of some weird blue drink before moving in closer to you again.

“Sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he was referring to or if you had even begun a conversation with him.

“The sleemo that rejected you sweetheart. Why else would you be drowning in my best stuff?” He winked at you and you barely managed to not visibly gag at the ways his eyes raked over your form. Did he think this was the way to flirt?

“Maybe I just love drinking liquid fire, sweetheart. Have you thought of that?” You hoped you weren’t being too sarcastic with him because if there was the slightest chance of getting laid tonight, then you were going to do everything in your power to take it and run considering how there was no chance of you asking your now-permanent “roommate” for those kinds of services. 

“Maybe. Either way, I’d love to help you forget about that sucker.” You took a deep breath and willed yourself to not punch him in the eye because the thought of being able to forget about the beskar-clad bounty hunter, even for a few hours only, sounded incredibly pleasant.

“Oh aren’t you sweet? So selfless and confident too.” You forced a smile before downing the rest of the whiskey and tapping on the glass again. If you were going to get fucked by someone like him, you needed at least three more drinks or else you wouldn’t be able to imagine the Mandalorian in his place. You chuckled at the depressing thought because here you were trying to forget about the man himself and yet went out of your way to make sure you were sort of able to pretend he was the one showing you the stars. 

“Believe me darling, my intentions are strictly...honorable.” He poured you another drink and took a shot with you, his eyes widening in shock when you didn’t bother to wait another second before downing the whole glass in one go. 

“Damn baby, he hurt you that bad?” You raised an eyebrow at his inquiry and didn’t know why the question bothered you so much. As much as you hated to admit it, the answer was a hard yes. 

“Hah, hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it. And you know what the worst part is? He doesn’t even know he’s doing it.” You didn’t bother to ask him for another drink, jumping on top of the counter before leaning down and grabbing the whiskey bottle from the shelf right in front of his knees. 

“You mean he’s still here?” He didn’t question your behavior, letting you take a long sip from the bottle before smiling down at your dazed expression. 

“Here. There. Everywhere. He’s fucking everywhere all the damn time. I...he’s- maker...I can’t get him out of my kriffing mind. And the funny thing is, he probably doesn’t waste a second of thought on me. I’m just...someone with a fucking ride that can get him from one planet to the next.” You traced random patterns on the cold tile of the counter and didn’t realize that someone had occupied the seat just opposite of you and trying his hardest to ignore the way the patrons across the room continued to stare at you like you were a piece of meat. 

“Darling, he isn’t worth your time. You need someone that...appreciates you. Tells you how good you’ve been.” You knew the man in front of you was just saying those lovely things to get in your pants but you couldn’t help the next few words from stopping even if you tried.

“Yes...gods, yes. Yes I do. But I wanted him to appreciate me. I wanted him to tell me how good I’ve been. I can’t blame him for not bothering to thank me though because it’s hard for him to hold a conversation longer than five minutes. I get that, he’s not used to it, he hasn’t needed to for so long. But it wouldn't hurt to acknowledge me every once in a while you know. I mean, do you know anyone else who’d willingly put their entire life on hold just to help some random introvert and his child find their way through this kriffing shithole of a system?” You knew you shouldn’t be saying any of those things out loud, let alone to a complete stranger. But he struck a nerve and you couldn’t take not another minute of not telling anyone how you truly felt. You needed to get some things off your chest and you sure as hell weren’t about to complain to the man waiting for you back on the ship.  

“And- and do you know anyone that would readily give up their most valuable position in this world to a stranger they just met? I don’t.” You violently shook your head at him and felt your eyes fill with tears when you saw the way the man was looking at you. His eyes shot down to the bottle in your hand and you unceremoniously raised it to your lips before taking a long swig of the burning liquid, hoping by some miracle that this was enough to make you forget all about his stupid strut and his annoyingly low and gruff voice and the way he was so effortlessly kind to the kid.

“That ship. It’s- oh gah, it’s been with me through the worst fucking jobs. I fought for it, almost sold my kriffing bo-...almost sold something priceless to ensure it isn’t taken from me again. And it only takes some damn beskar-wearing, quiet, fucking who-knows-what-species nerfherder to save me once for me to voluntarily hand it over to him. Like it wasn’t a piece of me...like it wasn’t my home.” You were over sharing at this point and you noticed the way the man was beginning to lose interest in you  so you made sure to grab his shirt and pull him closer to you before grabbing his forearm and digging your nails into it to keep his attention.

“Have you heard of the Revenant? You must have heard of the Revenant. There is no way you haven’t-”

“Yes, yes. I’ve heard of it.” He was exasperated but continued to attend to you, shamelessly letting his eyes follow a drop of whiskey roll down your shirt in between the valley of your breasts. You fixed your posture, pushing your tits together and giving him an eyeful of skin before ranting to him again.

“That’s my baby. My pride and joy. I always made sure everyone at the dock knew who it belonged to. Know why?” You grabbed his hand and pulled on it to make sure he was listening to you, laughing when he tiredly leaned down and forced himself to look away from your sweaty chest to your eyes. 

“Enlighten me sweetheart.”

“Because it’s one of the biggest gunships out there. So much space that I don’t actually use. It’s a fucking beauty...but you know what? It’s all a lie. A sad, unfortunate lie. Because it took me spending the better half of the year with that kid and his tincan of a guardian to realize just how small it is. It’s like he put his mark on every corner of my home on purpose...just to drive me insane. Every time I sit somewhere where I’m sure he wouldn’t bother to come to, I’d still smell that- that...that fucking scent of his that I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what it is.” You had thankfully placed the whiskey bottle away from you and didn’t try to fight the tavern-keeper when he took it and put it back on the shelf, instantly returning to you to make sure you weren’t about to break anything.

“I even gave him my room. My room! Because ‘no one can see my face’ so he needs some privacy away from me but then there’s the whole ‘the child stays with me all the time’ and that womp rat can sleep in the little cot in my room with him while also giving him some privacy. Which leaves me, you guessed it, in the shitty lower deck where there is no door, not even a curtain, to give me some semblance of solitude.” You didn’t realize how harshly you were breathing until you stopped speaking and noticed the way the stranger continued to look at you. 

“It has been a literal hell not being able to get myself off because he can walk in on me at any given moment. Picture that, not getting off for almost a year while being forced to remain in the same vicinity as him.” You didn’t care when you saw the man almost choke on his drink at your bold admission and looked around to make sure no one heard you. “Ughh, you’ve been such a good boy listening to me whining all night long and I think you deserve a treat.” You knew you had him as soon as he shivered at the way your fingers moved beneath his shirt and scratched his neck. “You look like the kind of guy that could fuck me within an inch of my life. Right?”

“Ah huh. Y-yeah.” He licked his lips before setting down the towel in his hands and inching closer towards you. And you silently swore at how absolutely pathetic he was because not a minute ago, he was trying to find a way out of this conversation and here he was thinking with his probably-disappointing dick. 

“Good. And I promise to make it worth your while if you manage to make me forget his name.” You leaned across the counter and were about to kiss him when you saw something move across your peripheral vision, something that looked oddly familiar to your completely hazed mind. 

“And what’s his name, baby? So I make sure you can’t rememb-” Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, you felt a large hand wrap around your upper arm and pull you back from the bartender and off of the stool. You almost tripped as you struggled to stand and huffed in anger before raising your voice to the distinguished individual who thought this was the time to fuck with you. 

“Hey what are y-” You were about to take a swing at whoever it was currently bruising your arm when you followed the glint of the familiar metal and were met with your reflection staring right back at you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you blinked in confusion a few times at the visor currently tilted in an almost judgemental manner at you before attempting to wipe your hair with your other hand.

The Mandalorian slowly changed his focus to the man behind the bar and threw a few credits at him, hands immediately lowering to the blaster in his side holster when he saw where the tavern-keeper’s eyes moved towards. The stranger could only hold up his hand in defeat before walking towards the other side of the bar to lick his invisible wounds. The Mandalorian’s helmet turned to the rest of the cantina, daring anyone to approach the two of you before you left. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to follow the two of you as you returned to the Revenant. He could feel his patience withering away with every passing moment you decided to share what’s on your mind with the rest of the universe but him. 

“Let me go.” You whispered to him, eyes maintained to the ground and cringing when you felt his hold on your arm tighten at the request. Before you could ask him again, Mando was turning around and walking out of the busy cantina, pulling you along with him aggressively and not leaving any room for negotiation. You winced as he pulled you like a child through the streets, avoiding the concerned and intrigued looks you were receiving. He was much taller than you and you laughed when you realized it must have been a sight to see some random woman getting dragged along by an angry bounty hunter. Mando couldn’t help but turn towards you when he heard your giggles break the silence, his annoyance spiking because there was absolutely nothing humorous about this situation. 

You noticed the way he was staring at you and decided to quiet down, swallowing the lump in your throat as the cold air hit your sweaty skin and made you shiver. 

As you moved closer to the ship, you realized there was a chance he heard what you had to say about him and your ship. Hurt and anxiety rose up your throat and before you could attempt and control the all too familiar feeling, you were tripping over your feet and falling to the ground, instantly vomiting everything you’d managed to eat and drink in the last couple of hours. 

The Mandalorian hoped his obviously misplaced outrage wasn’t what led you to such a violent reaction, and he kneeled down immediately to hold your hair away from your face. When he saw tears falling down your cheeks and how hard you were breathing beneath him, something snapped in his chest and he knew he was definitely the reason behind this severe response. 

“Don’t- oh gah….kriffing look at me.” You spat in between words and turned away from him, holding onto your stomach and to the grass beneath you as you continued to empty your stomach in the middle of the forest. At least you weren’t in the city anymore. 

“We’re close to the ship,” he didn’t know what else to say and chose to state the obvious instead, afraid of using a harsher tone with you. Actually, he did know what to say, he just didn’t trust himself to speak the words out loud yet.

“Wopty fucking doo for-” once again, you opened your mouth and dry heaved until you were sure there wasn’t a single drop of whiskey in your system, “you and your stupid kriffing-” 

“Please Ad'ika, let me-” You visibly shook at the familiar endearment you’ve heard him whisper to the child so often when he thought you weren’t around. It hurt to know he was throwing it around as if he wasn’t twisting the knife inside your heart with every breath he took near you. 

“Let m-me go, p-please.” Mando’s sudden intake of breath was as loud as the silence engulfing the two of you and you swallowed your pride before looking into his visor, well aware of how awful you must have looked without the reflection staring back at you. He, on the other hand, grasped in that moment just how deep your words in the cantina were and instead of listening to you and allowing you a moment alone, he took a deep breath before softly pushing back your hair and wrapping one arm around your waist. You didn’t have any time to question him as the other went beneath your thighs and before you knew it, you were holding onto his cowl for dear life as he quietly walked up the ramp of the Revenant with you in his arms. 

Mando pushed in the code to shut the hatch before making his way through the quiet halls of the ship, reaching hi- your room and going straight to the bed he has occupied in the last few months. As he put you down, he took notice of your body language and knew instantly how self-conscious you must have felt laying on the bed he’s been using since he joined you. The same bed which you sort of commented about not an hour ago. He watched as you forced a smile as soon as you saw the familiar green little womp rat peeking its head right before descending from the safety of his crib and wobbling towards you. 

You tried to leave the bed but Mando was ahead of you, gently pushing your shoulder until you realized there was no room for arguing with him. Leaning down, he took the kid and put him back in the crib before telling him he couldn’t cuddle with you tonight. 

You kept your hands clasped together and refused to look at him, eyes taking in the room no longer familiar to you. He’d moved things around, even put things away that he didn’t need. Your gaze shifted towards him unintentionally as you saw him approach you with a cup of water and wet towel. Pushing the covers towards you, he sat near your thighs as he handed you the water and began to softly wipe at your cheeks and forehead. 

You shut your eyes out of fear of giving more away just by staring at his visor and Mando thanked the stars you had because he wasn’t sure he could truly look at you if they were still open. It was a ridiculous thought because he was wearing a mask and you’d never know how much he loved committing all those little muscle twitches to memory. But it felt strangely intimate to return your gaze and he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable tonight. 

You sighed heavily at his touch and felt pathetic at how starved you were for anything that had to do with him. The man was wearing gloves and wasn’t technically trailing his fingers over your skin but it still felt difficult to contain yourself.

When he was done, he stood up and moved to the refresher, giving you a few moments alone before he imposed on you again. You gulped down the water and placed the cup on the floor near you, looking out of the large window to your right and noticing the dark blue skies moving slowly above you. It took you a few minutes to recognize that what you were feeling was no longer hurt but confusion. He’s acted so differently tonight and you hated to think it was because he was pitying you. It didn’t matter anymore whether he’d heard what you said about him or not. He would have found out sooner or later, and if you were being honest, you felt like he probably had some inclination for a while before but chose to not bring any attention to the topic to save you from embarrassment and rejection.

“Get some rest.” You turned towards him again, not realizing he’d come back into the room and was standing right beside you. Mando tried his hardest not to give away any of his thoughts but you knew what he was thinking as soon as you saw his helmet tilt down just below your neck. 

When you followed his line of sight, you felt ill again but for a completely different reason. Of course this would get worse. You weren’t planning on seeing him tonight and you told yourself you’d have plenty of time to change out of his shirt but it seemed that the universe was not making this any easier on you. Mando couldn’t stop staring at the shirt wrapped so loosely around your smooth skin and how large it looked on you. If he was a decent man, he would have turned away when he saw you shifting uncomfortably under his gaze but he couldn’t help taking in the way your body seemed to react to his presence and before he could think about it, he was stepping closer to the bed and reaching out to touch the material of his shirt falling down your shoulder.

“I- I’m sorry about your s-” The words died in your throat when you felt his gloved fingers trailing down your exposed clavicle and you were torn between asking him what he was doing and letting him carry on without interrupting his curiosity. Mando barely held himself back from pushing you down into the covers and taking what he now knew was his but he noticed the sudden goosebumps erupt on your skin and finally managed to meet your eyes through the visor. The way you were returning his gaze was perhaps too much for him and he flinched away from you, clearing his throat and willing himself to think of anything else but the way you were practically begging him to take you. You parted your lips to say something but couldn’t find your voice, afraid you’d push him more than he could take and drive him away all together. 

“It’s fine. It’s...I don’t mi- forget about it. You need to rest.” He spoke softly before walking towards the cot nearby and pushing the crib out of the door. 

“Wh-where will you sleep?” You sat up and knew he noticed how much you were holding onto every single interaction with him.

“Good night,” he didn’t bother to respond to the question, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him before making his way to the cockpit. You sat in silence for a few moments before slithering under the covers, sighing in annoyance when you noticed just how much this entire room smelled like him. Pushing your face into the pillow, you took a deep breath and felt shaken to the core when you were hit with Mando’s distinctive scent: sweat, beskar, and that damn featherfern wash he somehow found every time you flew by Nevarro. 

As you looked out the metal blinds, you tried to brace yourself for the conversation you were most definitely going to have with the Mandalorian the next day. You knew for a fact that whatever decision he’d take will ultimately hurt you because there were really only two options available, one of which involved him and the child leaving and the other would lead to them staying but making things awkward since there was not a single chance he would reciprocate your feelings. 

And the worst part was, you weren’t sure which was more painful.

The Mandalorian sat quietly in the cockpit for a while, making sure you were asleep so as to not wake you up as he moved through the Revenant. Seeing that the kid was fast asleep, he found himself leaving the small space and navigating to the lower deck. He passed by your room and noticed the lights were off, sighing in relief at knowing that you were finally resting comfortably. Arriving at the lower deck, he stood at the entrance of the large room and felt his chest tighten once he took in the state of the space. Turning on the lights, he immediately noticed your makeshift cot in the far right corner, unable to stop himself from moving towards it to inspect it. He shook his head in anger but this time it was aimed at himself and not you or the random tavern keeper who couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

How did he not know of this arrangement? And why did he not ask about your sleeping situation the day he joined your ship? Was he truly that unconcerned with anyone else but the kid or was it because he was reluctant to listen to Peli when she recommended you?

He’d only been in the lower deck for a few moments yet he felt his skin crawl with goosebumps. It was awfully cool down here and it took him another ten seconds to acknowledge that you’ve been living and sleeping here for this long without complaining once to him. 

Everything you said about him earlier tonight crashed into him like a wave of guilt and he couldn’t stay in the room any longer, making his way back to the upper deck to try and figure out what he would say to you come tomorrow. As he slowly moved through the dark hallways of the Revenant, he heard a faint voice coming from the upper deck, muscles tensing instantly when he walked past your room and noticed you weren’t on the bed.

Not wanting to disturb you, he waited right outside the cockpit and listened to you humming to the child. He must have woken up and found his way back to you. As he crossed his arms and stood behind the door, he couldn’t help but notice how soft your voice was as you continued to sing a lullaby to the little womp rat. 

How could he have not noticed…

“There you go, you little green goblin. If only I could sleep as quickly as you.” You whispered to him before tucking him into the crib while continuing to rub his abnormally large ears. “Your dad is really funny...thinking I’d be able to sleep in that room with his scent all over it.” 

Maker, how were you so forthright with everyone but him? It hurt to know that he wasn’t someone you could whisper your little secrets to. Then again, it made sense since all of your secrets seemed to involve him.

“I pray he doesn’t tell me he has to leave now that he knows I...ughh, for both of our sakes little one.” Mando noticed the way you seemed incapable of finishing your sentences whenever you spoke about him and a deep part of him wished you would, if only to hear the adoration in your words. Rarely anyone spoke of him so softly and he had a feeling he’d only ever accept such words from you. It was quiet for a few minutes before he heard you whisper to the kid again. 

“It just hurts to know that he’ll never see me as...as a-” He wasn’t sure if it was the heartbreaking tone of your voice or if it was the way you were reluctant to say your heart’s desire out loud but Mando couldn’t stand another second of you thinking you weren’t important to him.

“As a what?” His voice came out harsher through the vocoder and he winced at himself when he vaguely heard you jumping from the chair. A soft hiss came from the cockpit and he took a deep breath when he realized you’d just shut the crib and moved to leave the room. As you stepped out, Mando forced his eyes to remain on your face, refusing to look at your exposed legs or the way his shirt seemed to end right beneath your upper thighs.

Softly shutting the door, you walked to the opposite side of the room and knew the Mandalorian must have noticed your need to put as much space between the two of you as possible. 

“We need to stop running into each other like this,” you laughed awkwardly and anxiously ringed your fingers, glancing at his visor before turning away and looking everywhere else but him. Okay, so humor wasn’t going to get you out of this situation. 

“How’s your head?” You could feel how on edge he was and decided to answer with short and straightforward responses just to avoid any more awkwardness. 

“M-much clearer.” You stood in silence until you heard the Mandalorian pushing off of the opposite wall and heading towards you. You didn’t have anywhere to go, eyes snapping to the door right behind him and knowing there was no way you could try to walk around him.

He stopped a couple of feet away from you and you ceased to breathe when you noticed how awfully close he was to you. 

“Answer my question.” His voice was dangerously low and you found it difficult to try and think of anything to say when he was giving you no room to breathe. 

“I- I did?” Your voice was far from confident and you watched as he gently took off both of his gloves before shoving them into his pockets. Even though he willingly removed them in front of you, you didn’t allow yourself to look at his skin, afraid you’d somehow offend him and his Creed. But then you saw his hand move towards your face, and gasped when you felt his fingers tilting your chin so you were looking into his visor. There was not an inclination of an emotion available to you but you forced yourself to keep your eyes open nonetheless. 

“How do you want me to see you Mesh'la?” Mando whispered down to you and you swore his voice was hoarse as he spoke to you but you didn’t allow this moment to get to your head. It would hurt more than anything if…

“It d-doesn’t matter.” You blinked away the tears, wanting to wipe your face before anymore were shed but not finding it in yourself to move away from him. But then you felt his thumb softly rubbing at your wet skin, making you almost lose your composure as soon as he stepped closer in your space until your back hit the wall. 

“I’m sorry Cyar'ika,” his chest was inches from your face, cornering you beneath his other arm before leaning down and resting his forehead against yours. You couldn’t breath, not when he was suddenly filling all of your senses as if it was the most natural thing to do. He felt your tears roll around his thumb and couldn’t bear the thought of you crying because of him.

“I’m sorry for making you think you don’t matter...you do, not just to the kid but- but to me as well.” Your knees gave out on you as soon as you heard Mando’s confession, barely managing to grab onto his forearms right before buckling against him. The Mandalorian wasn’t sure if that was the kind of reaction he was looking for but he immediately wrapped his arms around your back and legs before pulling you against his chest. You nuzzled into his chest and kept a tight hold on him as he walked through the dimly lit hallways back to your room. He could feel goosebumps take over the skin of your thighs where he was touching you and tried to distract himself from pushing you down into the middle of the Revenant and taking you right then and there. You deserved more than that. 

As he reached the room and laid you on the bed, he felt your fingers clasp onto him harder and when his eyes trailed over your face, he knew you were silently begging him not to leave. 

“I’m not going anywhere Ad'ika.” His reassuring tone tugged at your heart and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched him walk to the door and shut it behind him before moving to the refresher. You heard him shuffle around and allowed your mind to calm down, knowing very well that Mando wasn’t unkind and wouldn’t lead you on just to leave you. But then he walked out without his beskar armor and you swore you died and joined the stars. His helmet looked odd without his normal clothing and you knew he could probably see you shamelessly ogling him from across the room. 

He walked to you and stood to the side, and you realized he was probably nervous. You pushed yourself against the wall and threw back the covers, hoping he’d understand what you wanted of him.

“Can I-”

“Please.” You cut him off before he could finish his question and he took a deep breath before laying on the bed and moving as close to you as possible. Before he could throw the covers over the two of you, you were already laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around him, fingers fisting into the soft material of his shirt unintentionally as you felt him relax beneath you.

You weren’t sure how long it’s been but you felt his heart rate finally come back to normal. Hoping you weren’t being too forward with him, you took his hand into yours and brought it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles before turning his palm over to lay a kiss on his wrist. Mando was losing every ounce of control left in his body and his arm tightened around your back as soon as he felt the tip of your tongue against his hand. 

“Pfassk,” you flinched at the rough expletive and raised your head to look at him, finding his visor already tilted down towards you. “I- I’m sorry I’ll stop if-”

“No..n-no, don’t stop. It just- you took me by surprise.” His chest was rising and falling more rapidly and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was as affected by this new level of ‘intimacy’ as you were, if not more.

You felt bold at his request, kicking the covers away before sitting up and moving to straddle his thighs. Mando was breathing harshly and mirrored your actions, sitting up against the cool metal of the wall before laying his hands on top of your exposed thighs. He let himself take in the way your skin flushed under his touch and smiled to himself when he continued to inch his smooth hands over your upper thighs until his shirt rid up your legs and revealed the pastel color of your undergarment. 

“Cyar'ika…” He sighed when he finally forced himself to meet your eyes and found them dilated until there was barely any color left in them. You wanted to ask him what that word meant but chose to file it for later. Placing your hands on top of his, you smiled down at him before pulling them towards your lips and kissing his palms. Almost instantly, you felt him twitch against you, unable to control himself from bucking his hips against your heated core. You let go of his hands and laid your own on his chest, throwing your head back when you felt his tight grip on your thighs. You could tell he wanted to apologize but gave him no chance to do so, sliding against him until you were sure he was painfully hard beneath you.

“Maker...I- I could almost taste you on my tongue Mando. When you- you left me in here all by myself. I couldn’t sleep, n-not when I could smell you on these covers, not when I could feel you on my skin. I..gods, wanted to kiss you then, and- and I wanted to taste your- you...Please, c-can I? P-please-” You dug your nails into his chest and heard him throw his head back against the wall with every confession you moaned to him. He was never this unhinged and you wished to see him come absolutely undone at your touch.

“A-are you sure?” It pained him to ask but he needed to be sure that you wouldn’t regret this. Regret him. 

“Mando, have you not listened to anything I’ve said tonight?” As much as you hated to remind him of the earlier and rather embarrassing events, you wanted him to know just how much he meant to you. You knew he was reluctant to let this relationship move forward and you couldn’t really blame him. This was all new to him. But you also didn’t want to stall, not when the two of you have become so aware of the other’s feelings.

You continued to rub yourself on him, shaking with anticipation when you heard him moan through the vocoder as you pressed yourself more confidently down on him. 

“Mesh'la I-” Without warning, you took one of his hands and pushed it to your lips, slowly taking two of his fingers into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them until his moans grew louder. And when he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, you gripped his wrist tightly and groaned, making sure he could feel how much you wanted him. 

“Y-you’re killing me sweet girl.” He wanted to loosen his hold on you, to take things slow, to not let himself get carried away with you, but he didn’t find it in himself to be gentle because he could feel how wet and needy you were above him and there was no way he was going to waste another second not being close to you.

“Please Mando, I want you, n-need to have you. I can make you feel so good. Please, can I?” You reached down and cupped him through his pants, finding him as hard as the beskar of his armor. He thrust up into your hand and swore violently before taking his hand away from your mouth and fisting it into your hair. You smiled when you felt him push you off of him, whispering something in Mando’a when he saw you pulling his pants down his thighs and throwing them behind you. 

You bit your lower lip before moving off of the bed and pushing his legs along with you as well. Mando sat up and forced his hands to remain by his side, afraid his enthusiasm would make him get too rough with you and scare you away. When you laid your hands on his knees and pushed them wide open so you could get comfortable between his legs, Mando’s hands tightened around the covers and he hissed when he saw the way you were eyeing his cock. You were staring at him like he was a piece of meat and he wasn’t sure if he loved it or was embarrassed by it. 

“Maker,” you whispered before dragging your nails up and down his thighs, watching as his cock twitched against his stomach every time you got a little aggressive with your touches. Looking up into his visor, you slowly leaned down and took the tip of his cock in your mouth, humming around him as you tasted precum leaking into your taste buds. That seemed to do it for him because one of his hands shot to the back of your head and fisted into your hair while the other moved down until it landed on your hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and watched as you pulled back and licked the underside of his dick before spitting into your hand and wrapping it around him.

“M-mando, the taste of you,” you took as much of him in your mouth as possible while maintaining eye contact with his helmet, squeezing the base of his cock before reaching down and cupping his balls. Mando swore, involuntarily thrusting into your mouth and watching in awe as he saw a dangerous glint in your eyes right before you clasped his hand harder and somehow managed to take him in deeper. It was such a sight, holding affectionately onto your hand as you brought him to pleasure. Letting go of him with a pop, you laid wet kisses down the length of his cock, licking the protruding veins and smiling when you felt his hold tighten on your hair. “Is absolutely addicting.” 

You could tell the exact second he lost all semblance of control because one minute you were kneeling at his feet, and the next thing you knew, Mando was pulling you up by your hair and throwing you beneath him on the bed. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, watching his muscles flex as he removed his shirt expertly over his helmet. The soft starlight coming through the metal blinds of the window shone onto his skin and you trailed your gaze down his chest, finding the golden brown tone of his scarred body absolutely breathtaking. 

“Mando, you’re beautiful.” You saw his hands begin to shake at your compliment, and you knew you’d take every chance you get from now on to tell him how much you adored him. You could hear him breathing through the mask and licked your lips when he looked down and saw the way you were playing with the hem of his shirt. Slowly, you began to pull on the soft material, about to take it off when he held onto your wrists. Your smile faltered for a second and hoped you didn’t somehow misunderstand his intentions.

The last thing Mando wished to see was your body giving away to shyness before him. Pushing your thighs open, he didn’t give you a chance to say anything else as he slid his fingers below the thin undergarment, violently ripping it off of you and discarding it onto the floor. You gasped when you felt him hard and heavy against your slit, taking both of his hands and pulling him towards you until he was only a hairbreadth away. He watched closely as you placed one hand around your throat while the other descended to your breast. You could tell Mando was reluctant to move so much an inch and when you pushed yourself against him, eyes daring him to do as he wishes, he found himself completely overtaken with the thought of you belonging to him and him only. You smiled when you felt the grip on your throat tighten, shutting your eyes and arching your back against him as the other cupped and pinched at your nipples through his shirt. 

“If you want me to fuck you tonight, Mesh'la, then you’re going to keep my shirt on.” He could feel you shaking in his arms and smiled to himself at the knowledge of how much he affected you. 

“Mando, please…” You would have continued begging him if he asked you to, but then he was moving away from you and leaning towards the window. Keeping your hands clasped to your chest, you watched as he shut the blinds until there wasn’t a single light shining into the room. You could barely see your own hands in the dark and wondered why he was shuffling above you. A soft hissing sound had you tensing in an instant and you ceased to breathe when you heard the faint sound of beskar hitting the ground. 

“M-mando?” The question was more reluctant than inquisitive and you didn’t have time to react as you felt him lean against you until you were touching every inch of his skin. You blinked a few times in vain, knowing there was no way you would be able to see anything. But then you felt something soft brush against your cheek and as you turned your head towards him, Mando was molding his lips with yours, swallowing your gasps and sucking on your tongue as soon as you melted into him. He pulled away against his own will, but not before pushing your jaw with his nose until your neck was available to him.

“And my name is Din sweet girl, Din Djarin. It better be the only word you scream tonight as I fuck this pretty little cunt. Understood?” You weren’t sure if it was his deep voice that made you speechless or the fact that he not only took off his helmet for you but willingly told you his name as well. You committed it to memory, hoping this wouldn’t be the only time he took off his helmet around you. You’d always wondered what he sounded like without it, not comprehending that it could be so much sweeter than what you’ve dreamed of. And by the gods, his lips. How were they so soft and gentle? Maker, he had a stubble too, not a rough one but just long enough to tickle your neck as he kissed and nipped at your clavicle.

“Answer me Ad'ika.” He bit your shoulder to grab your attention once more, chuckling above you when you nodded frantically against him. 

“You’re so soft Cyar'ika, I- I want to kiss every inch of your skin.” As much as you loved making him lose his mind at your touch, you had to admit you enjoyed him much more when he was in control. You smiled when he kissed along your shoulder before pushing down his shirt far enough to expose your breasts. Din bit down on his lower lip to contain himself, but then you were arching your back and pushing yourself into him and he couldn’t hold back. He kissed down your sternum, waiting until you relaxed in his arms before assaulting your nipples. You screamed his name as you felt his teeth tug on your nipple, hands shooting to his hair when you felt him grope and pull on the other. 

“Din, oh ma-maker- your mouth is...f-fuck.” You could tell he was smiling as he aggressively licked the hardened bud before sucking on it again. Din pushed his cock against your wet slit, growling when you pulled on his hair and cried his name like a sweet prayer. 

“I could smell your cunt sweet girl, so fucking wet and hot and ready for me.” Din pulled back and cornered you between his arms, bucking his hips into you until you were a needy and moaning mess beneath him. “Woke up countless times in this bed...hard and aching at the mere thought of you...d-dreaming of having you in my arms, wanting to sink into you, f-fuck you on every inch of this ship.” 

“Din, please...I need you.” 

The way you clawed at his back broke him and before he knew what he was doing, he was flipping you on your stomach and raising your hips against him.

“I need to have you Mesh'la.” Din leaned down and swiped your hair to the side, whispering the filthiest things in your ears as he took hold of his cock and rubbed it against your heat. 

“I’m yours Din, do what you want. Fuck me, ruin me...cum in me if you wish. Just p-please-”

You made it sound so simple, trusting him. It was an odd feeling to know how easily you were giving yourself to him. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not after what you said tonight. But something about the way you offered yourself to him, especially with that last request, had him seeing stars.

Leaning down until his chest was sliding against your back, the Mandalorian held you against him with one arm across your front while he slowly slipped into your wet cunt. You sighed in unison, and Din felt a sense of pride fill his chest when you dug your nails into his arm while your legs began to shake beneath him.

“You’re a dream Cyar'ika, the best f-fucking dream I could ever have. And you’re all mine.”

“Y-yes, yours. I’ve always been yours, oh gods Din please, move. M-move.” You were babbling at this point but couldn’t find it in yourself to care, turning your head to the side just to feel him breathe against your cheek. His stubble rubbed deliciously at your heated and sensitive skin, and you would tell him later that you hoped he’d mirror those actions but elsewhere.

“So tight darling, I- you’re everything. The things I- uhhh, the thing I want to do to you.” Din achingly pulled out before snapping into you again, biting down on your shoulder when you clenched violently around him. 

“Din, oh Din-” You wished you could tell him how good he felt, how much he filled you, how often you craved having him inside you and how much you were losing it now that he was. But you couldn’t find a single word, not when he was fucking you like you were it for him.

The normally quiet man was groaning and hissing above you, pulling you along with him as he sat up and continued to fuck you relentlessly. You reached back and held his head against your neck, crying in pain and pleasure when he picked up the pace and his hold on your hip tightened. You were sure there would be bruise marks the next day but you couldn’t tell him to slow down or be a little less aggressive, not when you finally had him where you’ve wanted for so long. 

“Fuck, fuck….sweet girl, did- did you mean it?” He was asking you something and you didn’t really pay attention to him, focusing on the way he deliciously dragged against your tight walls over and over again. Din knew it wasn’t fair to ask you anything right now but he had to know. Needed to.

He stopped his movement all together, sinking as deep into you as possible and tightening his grip on your throat. 

“Pfassk...answer me darling.” Din whispered into your ears and reached down to where you were joined, softly slapping your clit until you twitched and begged him to repeat his words again.

“I said, did you fucking mean it when- kriffing hell, when you said I could...c-cum in you?” He was reluctant to ask but there was no point in denying either of you. 

“Yes, gods yes. I told you Din, d-do what you want with me.” You forcibly loosened the fingers around your throat and brought them to your lips, biting the palm of his hand as he resumed thrusting into you. 

“Mesh'la...you’re such a sweet girl, letting me b-breed you...taking my cock so well, letting me fill you up. You were made for me darling. This cunt, this sweetest and tightest kriffing pussy was made for my cock.” He pronounced each word with a harsh push of his hips and you smiled when you heard how low his voice suddenly became. The sounds of skin slapping on skin filled the room and you hoped the child wouldn’t wake up from how loud the two of you were being. 

“You’re mine darling. Won’t let anyone else touch you...fucking look at you even. Maker I- I almost lost it tonight in the cantina.” There was a hint of self-consciousness in his words and you hoped he didn’t think you could ever replace him.

“D-din..” You wanted to tell him no one else would compare but he didn’t give you a chance. 

“Talking about me like I- fuck, like I didn’t care about you, like I don’t picture you coming on my cock every waking moment of my day. And flirting with him in my shirt...my kriffing shirt. I almost lost it when he put his hands on you sweet girl.” You weren’t sure if he had somehow become harder inside you or if it was his words that made you attuned to the feeling of him pushing into your cunt but you turned your head and kissed his cheeks, hoping he’d understand what you were trying to tell him with your touches. 

“You’re the only one f-for me.” Din let go of your neck and held onto your hips, no longer caring about how rough he was being with you. Your heavy sighs were the only warning he had right before your tight walls convulsed around his dick and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, falling on top of you and bucking his hips slowly into your cunt until you begged him to slow down.

“Cyare, ah pfassk, that’s it. Keep squeezing me darling. I’m so close, so close. Ah fuck, you’re mine. Mine, not letting you go. N-never letting you go. Oh maker...ner runi...ner. Ner. Riduur. My sweet girl...riduur.” Din didn’t realize what he’d said until the words were left hanging in the air and he felt a rush of relief wash over him as he finally admitted how he felt about you. 

“Din, I lo- ahh gods please.” He silenced your screams with his hand, losing his rhythm as he came in hot spurts of cum inside you. Din bit down onto your shoulder just as you bit on the palm of his hand, continuing to push his seed deep inside you until he felt you a mixture of your juices seeping out of you. Neither of you moved for a few moments, relishing the way you fit so perfectly with each other. You could feel him breathing heavily against your back and smiled with pride when you realized you were the only one that got to see him like this. 

Din didn’t want to stop touching you, falling to the side and grabbing your flush to him only to hiss when you unintentionally clenched around his softening cock. You kissed his wrist as he pulled the covers over the two of you, not bothering to move a muscle mostly because you knew he didn’t wish for you to leave him.

He kissed along the bruised ridges of your shoulders, drawing circles on your navel and smiling when you giggled beneath him.

“I wasn’t too rough with you was I?” He asked embarrassingly, not knowing what he’d do if you said yes. 

“You were perfect Din...you- you are perfect.” You turned your head far enough in hopes of catching his attention, letting out a deep breath when he leaned over and captured your lips in a chaste kiss. He was so soft and you didn’t know which side of him you enjoyed more but you were sure you wanted to get to know him, all of him. His likes and dislikes.

“Far from it Mesh'la. I...I went to the lower deck and saw where you’ve been sleeping.”

“Oh…”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Din rose on his elbow, seeking your hands in the dark and holding onto your fingers as he raised your hand to his mouth and kissed along your hand. 

“I- I didn’t want to make you think you weren’t welcome. Peli told me about the Creed and well, there isn’t any sort of privacy down there really. And the kid would’ve been cold. I know how much he likes to cuddle next to you when he sleeps.” 

“But you’ve been-”

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, believe me.” He didn’t say anything else in response but you knew he was very much thinking about it. 

“Din, I wouldn’t change a single moment. Not one. Because each one led me here, to this bed, in your arms. I would relive every mission and every cold night and every awkward conversation again if I knew I’d end up here with you. You’re the closest thing I have to a..a-”

“Family.” He broke the silence before lying back down and pulling you as close to him as possible.

“Promise me you won’t get drunk by yourself in a cantina again.” You wished you didn’t laugh out loud at the random request because Din swore behind you before his grip loosened a bit.

“I’m sorry I...I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just, here I am pouring my heart out and the only thing you could follow up with was that.” When he didn’t say anything in return, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back to you. “And yes, I promise not to get drunk in a cantina by myself ever again.”

“Good.”

“But I can’t really make any promises about not flirting with anyone because if it means I get to have you all hot and bothered then-”

“Sweet girl, you’re going to regret ever thinking of that…” 

Translations: 

Sleemo - This Huttese insult was pronounced slay-mo and translated as "slimeball," a rude insult.

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Pfassk - An adaptable expletive

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - Mine.

Runi - soul; only used poetically

Riduur - partner, spouse, husband/wife

[britishboystm]

Yoga Antics | Fred Weasley 18+

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut 18+ (minors dni!), unprotected vaginal penetration, male masturbation, kissing, swearing, fluff

WC: 2.9k

Summary: Y/N gets into yoga. Now Fred wants to get into Y/N...

A/N: A little something something while y’all wait for the next chapter of TDWM. Enjoy ya horny bastard!

•••

Stress management was something that you had grown to value a great deal in your free time. Even more so when you wound up marrying a Weasley twin.

It wasn’t that you didn’t absolutely adore your husband. You loved him with every fibre of your being. It was true however that sometimes you just needed a moment to yourself to unwind and recuperate, especially when living with such a hectic personality like Fred.

On the hunt for new tactics to tend to your mental health, you came across yoga, a muggle activity that Hermione had been raving about once her and Ron came back from her hometown during the Christmas break. She had said that her mom got her into it and how it made her stress levels drop drastically.

Admitly, you were skeptical at first. The idea of twisting and contorting your limbs to relax your racing mind seemed ridiculous. A simple spell should have been able to do the trick just fine, but alas one did not exist for such a thing, so you were left with not much to work with.

Hoping to persuade you, Hermione handed you a book from across the kitchen table while Ron and the twins laughed about some absolute nonsense in the living room of your home.

“Trust me Y/N. I’m usually a cynic myself about these things, but when I tell you yoga changed my life,”

She quickly glanced over at the boys to make sure their attention was averted elsewhere before leaning in so only you could hear.

“You would not believe the sex I’ve been having. Ever since I started doing yoga, I’ve been able to do things with my body that I could never imagine even in my wildest dreams.” Your eyes expanded instantly upon hearing her saucy confession. It was very unlike Hermione Granger to be so flippant about something as personal as what her and her husband did behind closed doors.

“Hermione!” You squeaked out as you shot your hands up to your flushed cheeks, embarrassed at the thought of your brother in law and best friend/sister in law in any kind of compromising situation. The image was now ingrained into your brain, an image you could easily do without no less.

Hermione lightly giggled but quickly covered it up with a cough when she noticed Ron and the twins look over at the two of you with interest.

“Everything alright ‘mione?” Ron asked, clearly oblivious to the raunchy conversation taking place between the whispering women.

“Nothing, go back to whatever you were doing.” She spoke, pursing her lips to hide a smirk. He gave her a look that read what are you up to over there? but quickly dropped it when he turned back around to continue the conversation he was having with his older brothers.

“I’m serious though, it has been an absolute godsend. I’m sure you and Fred can both get something out of it.” Your cheeks grew an even deeper red at the thought of what all of that might entail.

“Thank you for the advice Hermione. I’ll keep it in mind.” Maybe you would give the book a quick look through, if you were able to find any time during your insanely busy schedule.

“Love, time to head out?” Ron spoke as he stood up from the couch and brought over his finished cup of tea to the sink for washing later.

“Yes, we best be going. Remember what I said Y/N.” She nudged the book further towards you and got up to pull you in for a warm embrace.

“I’ll see you soon.” You spoke, giving her a warm friendly rub on the back before she went over to the door to get her ballet flats on.

“Y/N, always a pleasure.” Ron came over with a dopey smile, opening his arms to give you a big bear hug.

“Bye Ron.” He then headed over to Hermione, giving her his arm to hold on to as she struggled to get on one of her shoes.

“Only thing I’m good for, it seems.” Everyone laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked him the chest playfully.

“Oh shut it Ronald,” She jeers before opening the door.

“Bye!” The couple speak in unison as they head out the door, Fred closing it behind them.

“Well, I best be off too. I think I’ve left poor Angelina with the kids long enough.” George let out a sigh, bracing himself for what he knew he would be coming home to.

“Good luck with that mate.” Fred chuckles as he pats his brother on the shoulder.

“Bye love,” George speaks as he comes in for the usual kiss on each cheek with you.

“Bye George. Tell Angie we say hi.”

“Will do.” And then he makes his way out the door, Fred once again closing it behind him. He then turns around and looks down at you, a sly smirk dancing along his lips.

“Alone at last.” He groans before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Gah! You big idiot, if you drop me I swear to Godric!” You screech out. Fred let’s out a laugh before abruptly bending his knees, pretending to lose his grip on you. Your hand comes in contact with his back with a loud smack.

“I’m serious Fred, don’t do it!” He chuckles again before plopping you down on one of the couches in the living room. He shifts about so he was now straddling your waist. His hair, which he had been growing out, covered his face slightly. You brought your hand up to caress his light stubble ridden cheek.

He sighs out in contentment and flutters his eyes shut, leaning into your touch and kissing the knuckle of your thumb.

“Hi.” You say sweetly with bright sparkling eyes as you begin to twirl his fiery red locks between your delicate fingers.

“Hi.” His soft voice makes your stomach flutter. To this day you still experienced the same excitement you would get when you first started dating Fred back in school.

“Can we have sex?” He asks out of the blue.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his request. Ever since you tied the knot, the mystery and suspense your sex life once had began to simmer. Being upfront about both of your wants and needs became a part of the beauty of your marriage. No secrets were kept and no childish games were played. If one of you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.

“Only if you carry me, ‘m tired.” You spoke, going back to playing with his hair.

“Works for me.” His face lit up as he lifts you up off of the couch and carries you bridal style up to your shared bedroom.

You had to admit, Hermione was right.

The morning after that visit, you began to read tidbits of the book she gave you.

Not wanting to answer a billion questions, you kept the material out of your husband's sight. You knew he would become super curious and make you explain everything to him, and having just begun learning yourself, you decided it was best to keep it hidden away. Again, this concept was feorgein to the wizarding world so you couldn’t blame him.

It really did work out perfectly. Once you felt that you had gotten the hang of it, every morning after Fred left for the shop, you would set up in the living room and practice your yoga.

It honestly felt awful at first. Your body was so tight and tense that you had almost given up completely after your first time doing it.

But not wanting to throw in the towel so early, you kept it up until you began noticing a slight change in your body. Little things like being able to touch your toes or go into a deep lunge were gratifying and it almost became a bit of a drug to you. Not to mention it helped you sleep like a baby.

Fred was also starting to notice a difference. Knowing you were tight all over, sex usually consisted of fairly mild positions that didn’t put to much of a strain on your body. But that one random night in which you were suddenly able to bring your legs up to wrap around his neck as he pounded into you set off alarms in his head.

You had done something and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

That was a while ago.

Since then, you had fully converted to a life of zen, and yoga was your remedy to all of the worries that plagued your mind. Mornings were becoming easier and easier to face as Fred would shut the door behind him and you would pull out your yoga blocks and mat.

And this morning began like any other. The sun seeped through your white translucent curtains which made Fred groan in irritation. He hated getting up in the morning.

He turned over to face you and slowly opened his eyes, watching you shift about and slowly begin to wake up yourself.

“What time is it?” You spoke, nuzzling your face into his bare chest.

“7:15.” He was able to croak out in his scruffy morning voice.

“Off to work then?” You asked, finally looking up at him with this innocent and soft look that never failed to make him turn into a puddle of emotions.

“Off to work indeed.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, flopping on to his back to allow himself to wake up more.

“You're going to be late if you don’t get a move on.” He smiled at this before deciding to scoop you up into his arms so you were now laying on your stomach on top of him.

“George can manage for a bit can’t he?” He asked as he moved your crazy morning hair out of your eyes so he could get a better look at you. Your chin rested against his sternum as you rolled your eyes.

“Remember last time you tried to pull that stunt? He threatened to hex you.” Fred winced at the memory.

“Better not then huh?” He grimaces slightly, already knowing the answer to his question.

“Well unless you are willing to have your hair be green for the next year, then yeah I wouldn’t. Now stop stalling and get your arse up!” You say, pinching his hip which makes him arch up slightly underneath your touch.

“If you do that again I may never get out of bed.” His smirk would usually get to you but no one could ever get between you and your yoga sessions. Even Fred Gideon Weasley.

“Nice try Casanova, that isn’t going to work this time,” You lifted the sheets off of both of you and got out of bed to take a shower.

Later that morning, Fred ran over to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before grabbing a orange from the fruit bowl and rushing out the door for work.

You smiled knowingly, waiting for at least a minute before jumping up from your spot on the couch and ran back into your bedroom. Never in your life had you been so excited to wear spandex.

Once your setup was organized, you quickly got into child’s pose, hoping to give your begging joints and muscles a gentle wake up. It felt so good that the groan you emitted covered up the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Fred was back.

He had come from downstairs, having forgotten important paperwork he had to fill out for some possible investors. But the heavy package of documents seemed to have slipped his mind for a second time when he came across your arse stretched out in the bent over position.

His trousers tightened almost instantly and his finger had to come up and tug at his shirt collar that had suddenly become too tight.

Unaware of his presence, you continued your late morning with no care in the world. Feeling satisfied, your body moved up into a downward dog. Your lower legs and ankles gasped out in gratitude as you slowly leaned deeper and deeper into the upside pose.

That’s when you saw him.

Between your legs, you were able to notice a pair of brown dress shoes, one tapping away impatiently. Your eyes went wide and your throat let out a squeak, making you collapse to the floor and quickly turn to look up at your amused and very turned on husband.

“So this is what you’ve been doing when I’m away?” Your cheeks were all flushed, partly from the blood rushing to your face when you were upside down and partly due to Fred looming over you in a dominating stance.

“Fred I-.” You quickly tried to cover your tracks. Explain that it was a stupid thing Hermione told you about and that it didn’t matter.

“Hush love, I’m not mad.” He said through a relaxed chuckle.

“You’re not?”

“How could I? You are so fucking fit babes.” Your cheeks burned stronger and your eyes flitted down to the mat beneath you.

“Hey dove, no need to be shy. I liked what you were doing there. What was it anyway?” He was now crouched in front of you, lightly tracing his thumb against your cheek.

“Yoga, supposed to make you feel less stressed and more flexible.” You could see the gears turning in his head.

“Oh so I have yoga to thank for the amazing shagging we have been having recently then?” His comment made you giggle, making him swoon in return.

“Show me more. I want to watch.” God he knew how to make your stomach twirl. His face was no longer soft, but rather dark and naughty. The lust that was connecting the two of you caused your leggings to dampen. You shifted, now feeling slightly uncomfortable with sitting in your own wetness.

“What, you feeling uncomfy? Here I’ll help.” Before you could respond, he laid you on your back and dragged you towards him along the mat, his hands gripping the back of your thighs.

“Shall I take these off then?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in question. He was playing a game and he knew he had already won.

“Yes please.” Your voice was breathy and soft. He aggressively grabbed the waistband of your legging and tugged them down your legs.

Once they were in a wet mess somewhere in a corner of the living room, he bent down between your legs to pull you in for a kiss. Your hands went up to his hair and your legs wrapped around his torso, slightly grinding up into him.

His lips detached from yours and he looked down to notice your desperate actions.

“Awe love, you all worked up now?” He was obviously teasing you. Hell if anything, he was more bothered then you were, but he was always better at keeping his emotions below the surface.

“Want you to show me what you were doing again. This time in your undies babes.” You nodded urgently and turned yourself around, going into a cow position.

His heavy breathing and warm palms on your arse cheeks made his presence very much known.

You pushed back slightly, hoping he would get the hint.

“Patient, I’ll deal with you in a minute. Want to see more first.” Gaining some power, you got up and pushed him back, indicating for him to move onto the couch, giving him a front row seat to what would become his favourite show.

You pulled out every suggestive pose in the book. At one point, when you were able to look over at his reaction, his tie had come undone along with some buttons and his hand was fisted around his cock.

He looked heavenly sitting there, one arm draped along the top of the couch and his head thrown back in pure pleasure. He should have been back to work by now but neither one of you cared.

“Fuck, keep it up love.” You wanted his finish, not his hand so you stopped your performance and crawled over to him, kneeling between his spread open legs.

Without speaking a single word, your mouth opened wide, your tounge stretched out in a plea for his cum.

“You want me down your throat darling?” You nodded, eyes shut in patience. His groans increased and your palms began to sweat as anticipation grew all through your body.

But nothing came.

One of your eyes opened in confusion only for you to be met with him coming off of the couch and pushing you back into the mat once more. He stretched your legs open wide and moved your thong to the side. There was no time to adjust as his length rammed into you. Instantly gripping his biceps you let out a cry of submission and pleasure.

“Feel so nice and warm. Want you nice and wide for me when I finish yeah? Are you going to finish with me little dove?” You could only let out a wail of acceptance as you sobbed.

His drilling quickened and quickened until you both finally were able to come as one, something you had yet to achieve in your relationship. He let out a surprised laugh at the accomplishment before collapsing on top of you in exhaustion.

“Thank Merlin for yoga.” He spoke through heavy breaths.

[senadimell]

So it turns out The Conscience of a King is one of those hard-hitting Star Trek episodes that people warn about.

Anyways, there was a line that was really illuminating. Basic plot is (spoilers): Eugenicist governor decided to massacre half his colony during a food crisis to save the others. He was believed dead, but now lives life as an actor. Turns out, he does feel deep regret for his actions, but unfortunately, his daughter has been murdering the sole survivors of the massacre.

Ex-governor: I was a soldier in a cause. There were things to be done, terrible things. Daughter: Stop it, Father! You have nothing to justify. Ex-governor: Murder, flight, suicide, madness. I never wanted the blood on my hands ever to stain you. Daughter: I did it for you. I've saved you. Kirk: By killing seven innocent men. Daughter: They weren't innocent! They were dangerous! I would have killed a world to save him!

The bolded line is striking. They were innocent. All they had done was survive when they weren’t supposed to. Yet, to the daughter, they were dangerous to her father because they were witnesses to the atrocities he committed, and were capable of “hurting” him when he tried to put that life behind him. Yet she can’t see that, because she can’t reconcile “the father I love” with “a man capable of atrocity,” and so when faced with something that threatens her worldview, she decides that those survivors must not be merely inconvenient, but dangerous, and therefore guilty.

I dunno, I guess it says something about victim blaming and how it’s too easy to jump from “makes me uncomfortable” to “must be objectively dangerous” and equate “dangerous” with “immoral.” And in the same episode, we have a really good counterpoint in Kirk, who was among those slated for death.

SPOCK: Almost certainly an attempt will be made to kill you. Why do you invite death? KIRK: I'm not. I'm interested in justice. MCCOY: Are you? Are you sure it's not vengeance? KIRK: No, I'm not sure. I wish I was. 

The distinction between a desire for retribution or vengeance and a desire for justice is crucial. The former focuses on satisfying personal feelings (and completely justified desires at at that!) and the latter focuses on the rights of the other person. At this point, Kirk cannot entirely verify that the actor is the same man from twenty years ago, and his desire is to make the man pay, but he’s aware that justice requires more of him than vengeance.

Daughter (Lenore): There's a stain of cruelty on your shining armour, Captain. You could have spared him, and me. [...] Lenore: [...] You are like your ship, powerful, and not human. There is no mercy in you. Kirk: If he is Kodos, then I've shown him more mercy than he deserves. And if he isn't, then we'll let you off at Benecia, and no harm done. Lenore: Captain Kirk. Who are you to say what harm was done? Kirk: Who do I have to be?

Gah, this exchange is really good. Kodos’ daughter condemns Kirk because he caused her father grief, but all Kirk did was confront the man with his past wrongs. To me, this boils down to a “nice is different than good” situation, because it’s not exactly nice to bring up buried guilt, but nice =/= good, and in this case, Kodos’ feelings about his past actions are more or less irrelevant.

Kirk points that out with the line about mercy. There’s more at stake than an old man’s feelings. As far as Kirk knows at this point, all survivors of Kodos’ massacre have been murdered save for Kirk and another officer on the ship, and attempts have just been made on their lives. As far as Kirk knows, this is a murder who is murdering again, and Kodos’ feelings are irrelevant to the discussion of what needs to happen to him.

Then Lenore cuts back and says “who are you to say what harm was done?” To Kirk. Who survived attempted execution and murder. Who watched fellow survivors die, including attempts on the life of someone in his care and an attempt on his own life that would have killed several decks’ worth of people he is responsible for. It is hard to picture someone more able or fitting to testify of the harm Kodos committed.

Now, spoiler, Lenore is the one who’s been killing survivors, unbeknownst to Kirk, and she is willing to totally discredit and disbelieve them because their existence makes her father hurt (by reminding him of his own guilt). So no matter what Kirk says, she’s already made up her mind.

But Kirk doesn’t justify himself with any of that. How could he? 4,000 people were massacred, and how can anyone argue against the reality of that harm? Yet Lenore tries. So Kirk follows up not with any justification, but a simple question: Who do I have to be?

It doesn’t matter who Kirk is, or whether he has any personal stake in the matter of Kodos. This is not about vengeance. It’s about harm prevention. It’s about justice. In that line of dialogue, you can see that Kirk no longer worries about if he is pursuing personal vengeance or justice. He is doing what needs to be done.

[sinnamonrolle]

[ the little moments] ♡ Leviathan

4 - That moment when you baked cream puffs with Leviathan.

✿ part of a series now! ✿

❀  gender neutral reader  ❀

“What are you making?” you asked, peeking over Levi’s arms.

“GAH!” Levi yelped. “BEGONE, DEMONS!—oh. It’s just you. Why did you sneak up on me??? It’s not fair for my poor heart, okay.”

Levi set down the spatula into the bowl and patted his chest a few times, clearly spooked by your unannounced arrival. You felt bad for scaring him, but his reaction was utterly adorable. There was a faint blush across his cheeks, and all you wanted to do was see it again and again.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, giving his head a few pats for good measure. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The blush deepened at the contact between you two, but Levi didn’t push you away. He only turned his head and grumbled with a small pout, “It’s fine, I forgive you.”

You looked at the dough in the bowl, the cup of beaten eggs on the counter, and the bottles of whip cream neatly lined up to the side. “So, what are you making? Do you need any help?” you asked.

He perked up instantly, and all lingering signs from the scare vanished. As he whipped out his D.D.D. from his pocket, he began explaining to you.

“So, you see,” Levi began, his fingers moving furiously against the screen, “in the anime ‘The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl’, in one episode, Ruri-chan visited one of her human friends and they made cream puffs together, and as I was rewatching that episode, seeing Ruri-chan enjoying her cream puffs that she made with her own two hands also made me want to make my own cream puffs, because if I make it myself, then it’ll be like eating it with Ruri-chan, you know, but I’ve never made cream puffs before so I’m following a recipe and yeah. That’s where I am right now—Did you get all that? You look a little dazed.”

When Levi talked about something he’s passionate about, the purple in his eyes rose and fell in accordance to his emotions. It’s something that took you a while to notice, but once you did, you couldn’t stop staring. For example, when Levi was sad, the purple swallowed most of the orange, leaving behind a sliver of dark orange. And when Levi was angry, and you meant really angry, only a tiny amount of purple circled his pupil. The bright orange consumed all other colors, and it almost seemed to glow. But when Levi was happy, that’s when his eyes were the warmest orange. The purple was mild, nestled underneath hues of oranges—you thought it was a beautiful combination of colors.

Like currently. You were utterly entranced by the way the orange seeped into the paler orange, pushing down the purple until all you could see was the sunset in his eyes. Too entranced that you appeared dazed to Levi, but not to the point that you didn’t listen to what he was saying.

When you refocused again, Levi turned away to the ingredients on the countertop, hands reaching for his headphones only to meet the collar of his cardigan. It seemed to be a habit of his. When he was nervous or feeling out of place, he often reached for his headphones to feel safe, to feel protected against the world. But he didn’t have them today, probably because he planned on baking and didn’t want them to get dirty or to get in the way.

“Of course,” Levi mumbled, tugging his cardigan closer to his body, “I shouldn’t expect a normie like you to understand, why did I even bother? There’s no way you would care about something stupid—”

“I was listening,” you said firmly. “By making cream puffs, you will feel like you’re eating them with Ruri-chan, right? It’s not stupid at all, Levi. I think the idea is adorable. Can we make them together?”

Levi spluttered and turned further away from you, red ears peeking out of his hair.

“That-that’s not fair! Acting so cute, especially with that head tilt! It’s like you’re trying to KO me!” Levi complained, but he finally turned to look at you. However, his eyes were constantly moving between the bowl of batter and your face. “Although… if it’s on purpose, I, uh, I wouldn’t necessarily mind… BUT that’s not the problem here! Are you sick or something? Why did you look so out of it? Like, like something came and ate your soul! You can’t let anyone eat your soul, okay?!”

There was no need for shame in this house, so you confessed with a straight face. Besides, there wasn’t any reason to hide it from Levi, whose concern for your soul had his hands on your shoulders, all of his inhibitions regarding intimacy out the window.

“I got distracted by your eyes,” you said honestly. “When you’re really happy, your eyes are this really pretty shade of orange. It reminds me of sunsets and autumn trees that we have in the human world.”

It took Levi a minute or two to process what you just said, but when it registered, he froze up. His hands clamped down harder on your shoulders, fingers squeezing you as he choked out, “A-ah… I, I see…”

His eyes bore holes into your clothes, not daring to meet yours, as red bloomed beautifully on his cheeks. It was just tempting you to touch it, to feel the warm soft skin with your fingertips, to encourage the blush with pinching and kneading, but just as you started to move for his cheeks, Levi removed himself from you and showed you a picture of cream puffs, drawn in a familiar anime style.

“Th-this, AHEM, this is what Ruri-chan made,” Levi said, the blush still lingering on his cheeks as he explained. “She cuts it completely in half and then they put the cream inside.“ Then, he swiped to another picture. “This is the recipe I found. I’ve already cooked the dough on the stove, so all I have left is to mix the perfect amount of eggs into the dough.”

You lowered the hand that was reaching for Levi’s face and smiled at him. Even though you really wanted to touch his cheeks, you were still satisfied from the way Levi was enjoying himself with baking. It was rare to see Levi so unbridled and unabashed with his happiness in a public space, although perhaps the House of Lamentation wouldn’t count as public.

Something this rare... you didn’t dare disrupt.

“Then, let’s mix the eggs together,” you offered, turning to grab the measuring cup of beaten eggs. “Is this the amount that we need?”

Levi picked up the spatula he had set down earlier and replied, “There’s four eggs in there, but the recipe said that it’s really finicky. We just have to make the dough a good consistency. Let’s see… we need it shiny, thick, and smooth.”

The mixing went well. Levi was extremely strict with making sure the dough came out well, and while you did some baking before here and there, you definitely weren’t an expert on the amount of eggs that needed to be in cream puff dough. You were glad Levi knew enough for the cream puffs to come out looking absolutely delicious, because you weren’t sure if your heart could handle Levi breaking down into tears.

“Be careful when you’re cutting it in half,” Levi said nervously, watching closely as you sliced a cream puff. “Don’t get hurt, okay? I’ll freak out if you do. I don’t know how to reattach fingers, so I’ll probably have to go get Satan but wouldn’t it be too late by then? How long does it take before human fingers aren't able to reattach? Ah, but we have magic so—”

“Levi,” you said, patting his arm in a consoling manner, “I understand your concerns, but I’ll be fine. I promise to be extra careful, but you shouldn’t hold the whipped cream can—”

Pop.

“—too tightly…” you finished, but it was already too late.

The bottle of whipped cream, branded with a logo of Little Devil, exploded from the top. Some of the cream decorated the kitchen countertop in white spots and some fell on your hand, but most of it landed on Levi. You could barely see his face through the thick layer of white.

“...”

“Pfffftttt—cough, cough!” you started laughing, only to immediately cover it with coughs. It didn’t sound believable at all, but you continued on, setting the knife to the side. “Levi, are you okay?”

Before he could respond, much of the cream fell from his face in a huge glob, leaving behind a white coating with varying thickness and two spots where his eyes were. You choked back the laughter as best as you could, but it was hard to stop your lips from twitching. It wasn’t helping that he looked somewhat like a clown.

“Are, are you okay, Levi?” you asked again, biting down on your lips to stop it from forming into a smile. “That’s a lot of whipped cream…”

Levi opened his mouth, but you couldn’t see his lips at all, only a dark, gaping hole that opened and closed.

“Unbelievable…” he said, and you would have helped him clean the cream off his face if you didn’t absolutely lose it then and there, doubling over as you wheezed, slapping a hand against your thigh.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, “but, oh my goodness, Levi, you—AHAHAHA, you look like a clown! A clown! Levi, I’m so sorry but—”

When you took another look at Levi, he was looking at you in equal parts disappointment and embarrassment as he wiped off most of the white cream with a hand, washing it under the faucet.

Even though most of the whipped cream was gone, the look he sent you almost launched you into another wheezing fit, but you steadied yourself as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Unbelievable,” Levi grumbled, but this time you could see the pout on his lips and the absolutely adorable way his eyebrows furrowed together.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, with a bit of guilt, and reached for the remaining cream hanging onto his bangs. “Here, let me get that—”

Levi caught your hand.

“You complete idiot,” he complained as he brought your hand to his lips. “Cruel and heartless, I can’t believe you’re my master… Normally, I wouldn’t forgive you for a hundred years but… ” He trailed off, and his eyes, the color of coral, met yours for a brief second before his eyes eluded yours, and his tongue peeked out and licked the whipped cream that had landed on the back of your hand.

Your eyes followed the retracting tongue and the way it swiped gently against his pink lips as it passed through. Dazed, you only processed what had happened when the kitchen air blew against the wet patch on your hand, the cold sensation and the realization warming up your face.

Now, you were the one blushing.

Levi finished with a whisper, “You’re lucky I love you.”

-------

Masterlist!

[intheticklecloset]

Wild Card (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: Bakugou is determined to make sure his 3am encounter with Shinsou is kept on the down low, but when he finds out Denki has already told some of their friends about it, he can't hold back his frustration.

A/N: I wanted to write a fic in which Bakugou tickled Denki, and it lined up perfectly with the events from "A Trick of the Light," so this is the result! Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,948

~~~

“Yo, Baku-bro,” Kaminari greeted enthusiastically as he and Shinsou entered the 1-A dorms together. “You up for some Mario Kart?”

Bakugou scoffed. “You up to losing?” Then he turned, saw the purple-haired boy with his friend, and froze. It had been a week since their 3am meeting in the kitchen, and neither of them had spoken since. He frowned. “What are you doing here, mind-reader?”

Shinsou’s eyes hardened but his face remained stoic. “I believe I’ve already informed you that I’m not a mind reader, and that I have friends here in these dorms.” He waved a hand at Kaminari. “Case in point.”

“I’ll go let Midoriya know we’re here,” Denki said, taking off down the hall after removing his shoes. “Be right back.”

Then Bakugou and Shinsou were alone together for the first time since the incident.

Bakugou glared. “How many people have you told?”

“Told what, exactly?” Shinsou asked coolly, staying right where he was. “That you mistook me for Midoriya? I told him and Kaminari about our encounter last weekend.”

“No one else?”

“I have no reason to tell anyone else about it.”

Bakugou grit his teeth, then let out a hissing sigh. “Look. I know we’re not friends, and that’s fine by me. I couldn’t care less. But I don’t want you going around telling a bunch of extras that I’m…” he trailed off, cleared his throat. “So what do I have to do to convince you to keep it quiet?”

Shinsou quirked a brow. “That you’re what?”

“You know what.”

“I already told you I’ve told Kaminari and Midoriya about what happened, but beyond them, I have no reason or desire to tell anyone else. I found it amusing, but little more. It clearly bothers you, though.”

“I’ve got a reputation.”

“For being a jerk all the time? I’m well aware of your reputation.”

Bakugou shot to his feet, striding toward the taller student with purpose. He stopped a few feet away. “I don’t want the whole school knowing I’m…I’m…that I’m ticklish, okay?” He finally spat, clenching his fists. “So what do I have to do?”

Shinsou blinked. “That’s what you’re worried about? That I’ll tell everyone you have a very common weakness?” He smirked. “Perhaps you’re not as much of a bad boy as they say you are.”

“Shut up, all right? Look, I just don’t need anyone else to know. It makes me sick enough as it is that you know. So what do I have to do? Name your price, mind-reader.”

“Stop calling me mind-reader, for one.” Shinsou’s voice grew hard.

“Fine. What else?”

The purple-haired boy considered him for a moment. “How about this – I’ll promise not to tell anyone your little secret if you promise to do me a favor in return whenever I ask for one. Whenever I want you to do something, you do it, no questions asked. Sound fair?”

Bakugou hated to admit that he was relieved. He nodded. “Fine.” He held out his hand, and Shinsou took it.

That’s the exact moment Denki returned with Deku in tow. The blonde’s eyes lit up. “Hey! Are you two friends now?”

“Shut up, dunce,” Bakugou spat, ripping his hand away. “We’re not friends.”

“Definitely not friends,” Shinsou agreed. The two of them shared a hard stare.

Deku could feel the tension between them and did his best to cut through it by asking brightly, “So, who wants to play Mario Kart?”

*

That was one problem taken care of. Keeping Shinsou quiet had been Bakugou’s biggest concern, since he wasn’t and had no desire to be on friendly terms with the extra from 1-C. That just left Deku and Kaminari. He knew Deku wouldn’t go around telling everyone about it; despite their rivalry, he could trust him to keep his secret. Kaminari, however, was a wild card he didn’t want to risk.

So that night after Shinsou had gone home, Bakugou dragged the electric hero outside into the dusk and said, “Listen up, dunce. I know he told you about what happened last week, but you are not to tell anyone else about it. Got it?”

For a moment Denki looked confused, but then he looked worried. “Wait…you mean mistaking Shinsou for Midoriya? But I’ve already—” He slapped a hand over his mouth.

Bakugou’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“No, no, it’s not what you think! I haven’t told everybody – just a couple of our friends!”

“Which ones?”

“J-Just from our group! You know – Kiri, Sero, and Mina. And…and Ojiro. But that’s it, I swear!”

Bakugou gripped his shirt collar. “I’m going to kill you.”

Denki panicked. “B-But they’re our friends! You know they won’t tell anyone!”

“No, I don’t know that.”

“Come on, man. Can’t you trust us with this by now?” Kaminari sounded sincere, and it gave Bakugou pause. “I mean…aside from that one time we went too far, we’ve never betrayed you, have we? We’ve always kept it just between us. No one else. They won’t tell, and I only told them in the first place because they already know.” The sparky blonde offered a nervous smile and patted Bakugou’s arm. “It’s all right, dude. We’ve got your back.”

Bakugou gripped him even tighter and snarled, “What about Ojiro?”

“O-Oh, that? W-Well, um, I only told him because he’s friends with Shinsou. He won’t tell either, I promise!”

“You can’t make promises on someone else’s behalf, idiot.” He shoved the electric hero away and turned on his heel. “Now I have go to shut someone else up.”

“Wait, no!” Denki cried, bolting to stand in front of him. “D-Don’t hurt him, Bakugou. He doesn’t know you like the rest of us. He might take it too personally – l-let me talk to him instead.”

“You better make sure he doesn’t tell anyone else I’m ticklish, dunce face, or I will actually kill you.”

Kami frowned, confused. “That you’re…? Oh, no, Ojiro doesn’t know Shinsou tickled you back. I just told him that you got confused and tickled Shinsou thinking it was Midoriya. That’s all.”

Bakugou grabbed him by the shirt collar again and yelled, “You made me freak out over nothing?!”

At this point, Denki just had to laugh. He couldn’t tell if it was because he was nervous or he thought the whole situation was being blown out of proportion, but either way it was the wrong reaction, because he suddenly found himself shoved to the ground so hard he nearly had the wind knocked out of him. “Gah! Hey, take it easy, man!”

“You’re laughing at me now?” Bakugou growled, snatching up both of his wrists and pinning them tightly. “I’ll give you something to laugh about, dunce face.”

Denki shrieked. “NO!! No, wahahahahahahahahait! Plehehehehehease!”

“If you think it’s so funny, then go ahead and laugh.” Bakugou squeezed up and down his side, expertly keeping up when his fellow blonde tried to twist away. “Laugh it up, Denki – go on, get it all out of your system.”

“Stahahahahahahahahap!” Denki pleaded, giggling crazily and squirming on the ground. “Plehehehehease, I’m sohohohohohohorry, I didn’t mehehehehean to lahahahahahaugh!”

“Sure.”

“Plehehehehehease, I cahahahahan’t – dohohohohohon’t tihihihihickle me, plehehehease! I’ll tahahahahahalk to him! I’ll tehehehehehell him not to tehehehehell anyone else!”

“Oh, I know you will. But I’ve got some serious frustration to take out first, and since you so willingly walked right into this, I’m going to take my time.” Denki squealed when Bakugou forced him to roll onto his back and then straddled him, grabbing onto his ribs and kneading deeply. “Tickle, tickle, moron.”

“Plehehehehehehehehease! Ahahahahahahahahaha!” The electric blonde giggled so hard he almost couldn’t breathe, gasping for air between bouts desperately, pushing at his attacker’s hands uselessly. “Nohohohohohohohoho! Plehehehehease, it tihihihihihihickles so much!”

“Jeez, sparky, you’re more ticklish than Deku is.”

“I knohohohohohohohow! Stahahahahahahahap! Plehehehehehease, Bahahahakugou!”

“Hmm.” Bakugou ignored his pleading, scribbling up and down his torso from his underarms to his hips, searching for a hot spot of some kind. While he got crazed giggling and breathy laughter, nothing really stood out to him as being a potential death spot. He squeezed the blonde’s thighs, earning a sharp squeal, then reached behind him to squeeze his knees.

“NO!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Denki’s begging came out in full-force, as did his fighting spirit. He shoved at Bakugou desperately, managing to dislodge him slightly. “No, not there! Not there! Please!”

Bakugou paused, staring at him. Denki stared back desperately. For a moment neither of them moved. Then the two of them started a wrestling match that lasted a couple of minutes before Bakugou finally managed to shove his electric friend face-first into the grass, quickly moving to straddle his calves and scratch at the exposed undersides of his knees.

Denki exploded. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” He pounded the ground, ripping up blades of grass in his fruitless attempts to get away. “NONONONO NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!!”

“Dang, you are more ticklish than Deku!” Bakugou laughed wickedly, scribbling over his knee pits and along the sides of his knees relentlessly. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

“SHUT UP, BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAKUGOU!! OH MY GOHOHOHOHOHOHOD STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP ALREADYEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

“What’s the matter? Can’t take it?” That’s when Bakugou noticed the sparks in the air around them. “Whoa.”

Kaminari was wheezing, he was laughing so hard. He grasped desperately for some kind of purchase. “I’M GOHOHOHOHOHOHONNA – I’M GONNA BLOHOHOHOHOHOHOW A FUHUHUHUSE!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Bakugou smirked. He had to see this. “You think I care about that? Think again, dunce.” He switched from scribbling to kneading, just to see what would happen. “Go on. Electrify me if you want to get away. Do it. I dare you.”

Denki shrieked in distress, laughing so hard he was losing control of his quirk, but Bakugou wasn’t letting up, wasn’t letting him breathe, wasn’t letting him hold back—

“AAAAGH!!” Bakugou yelled as an incredibly strong shock of pain shot up his arms, forcing him to freeze up and fall over, letting Denki go whether he wanted to or not. He curled up as the pain receded, groaning. Wow. He wasn’t kidding about that blowing a fuse thing. That hurt!

The atomic blonde pushed himself up to his hands and knees, looking at where Denki still lay on the grass, and instantly felt a pang of guilt for having pushed him so far. Idiot, he chastised himself, crawling over to his friend. You got so upset when they pushed your boundaries and now you go and do the same thing?

“Hey, Denki,” he said, gently nudging his friend’s shoulder. “You all right?”

Giggling breathlessly into the grass, the only response he got was a muffled, “Whey.”

Oh, no. Bakugou rolled him over onto his back, seeing the dazed look and loopy smile on Kami’s face and groaning again. “Oh, great. Now you’re even dumber than usual.” He poked Denki’s belly, surprised when his fellow blonde burst into a long giggle fit from just the one touch. “Dude, did you get even more ticklish after that?” He poked him again, getting the same reaction.

“Whehehehehehehey,” Denki giggled, batting at his hand half-heartedly, rolling onto his side.

Bakugou stared, smirked, and grabbed his ribs, enjoying the squealing giggles he got for his efforts. “You’re ridiculous. Come on.” He pulled his friend into a sitting position, then helped him get to his feet, walking him back toward the dorms. “Let’s get you to bed, dunce face.”

*

When Kaminari woke the next morning, dazed and confused, he sat up in bed and was startled when something fell from his forehead to his pillow. He picked up the sticky note and read his angry friend’s scrawling handwriting: Tell Ojiro to shut his trap, or I’ll tickle you stupid again.

Denki grinned, shook his head, then got up to do exactly that.

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Loving the Alien

Just a little oneshot I wrote because Herbots grew a beard this summer, and thus Robbe did too. Rated T. Cross posted on Ao3 if you prefer reading it there. -> Link

***

“I honestly don’t know what to think about this,” Sander said, leaning on the door jamb, his eyes focused on Robbe’s face.

“Then don’t. Easy,” Robbe replied with a shrug and a wink. He took a green bottle from the cabinet above the sink and set it on the counter before pulling a razor and a pair of scissors out of a drawer. He set them next to the bottle and then turned to face Sander, arms crossed, his hip leaning against the counter. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

Sander dropped his gaze, smiling secretly at the floor, and sighed dramatically. “I just can’t decide. That’s the problem.”

“Sander, you can’t decide what?” Robbe asked, rolling his eyes, but Sander could tell he was only partially exasperated. His dark chocolate eyes shone with curiosity, and he now gazed at Sander expectantly.

Lips twitching, he took two steps forward and cupped Robbe’s furry, though somehow still soft, cheeks in his hands. He pressed the barest whisper of a kiss to his lips, and then resting his forehead against Robbe’s, he murmured, “I can’t decide whether you’re hotter with this beard or clean shaven. It’s a real problem.”

Robbe snorted, and his whole body convulsed forward. His forehead clipped Sander’s jaw, and he stepped back, a little giggle escaping from his lips. “Really, San? That’s your problem?”

Sander pushed back the curtain of russet waves that had fallen into Robbe’s face, and shrugged, saying mock seriously, “It’s a legitimate dilemma, Robin. Put yourself in my shoes. Your boyfriend is hot as hell, and then he goes and grows a beard over vacation. Suddenly he’s even hotter--something you didn’t think was possible by the way--and you don’t know what to do with yourself.” He gave Robbe a pointed look. “I seriously had to control myself in public, and it was not easy.”  

Robbe rolled his eyes again and opened his mouth to interrupt, but Sander placed a finger across his lips.

“Sometimes,” he continued, “I just look at you, and you’re so fucking sexy that I can’t breathe. I literally have to stop and remind myself to inhale. I thought that was some stupid cliche in books, but no. Of course it’s real, and of course it would happen to me. Because of you. And then you grew this fucking beard...and I don’t think I’ve been able to think straight since.”

Robbe removed Sander’s hand and kissed his knuckles before holding it between his own. “I don’t think you were exactly thinking straight before,” he teased. “That would kind of defeat the purpose.”

Sander couldn’t help himself. A barking laugh burst out of his mouth, and he shook his head. “Well, if you’re going to go there. I haven’t had a straight thought since we met.” 

“Good,” Robbe said, pecking his lips lightly. “You may continue flattering me.”

“No, I’m done. Your head is big enough.” Sander crossed his arms and shrugged, leaning against the sink opposite Robbe. “If you’re not going to take my suffering seriously--”

“Suffering my ass!” Robbe scoffed, giving him a playful shove.

Sander grinned. “Yes, suffering. To know how hot you are both ways and to only be able to experience one at a time. Absolute torture. Seriously unfair. You should be ashamed of yourself, causing me all this pain.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“You-- The fuck, Sander, you--” Robbe smooshed his hand into Sander’s face, pushing him back as he rotated his wrist. Sander’s head rocked side to side, and he couldn’t help grinning, watching Robbe grasp for words.

“Gah! You--” Robbe continued to sputter, “Dork. You absolute dramatic, soppy dork. Oh my God, if people knew...I don’t think they’d believe me if I told them. No one. You want unfair? That’s unfair. You walk around looking all mysterious and aloof when you’re really just the cheesiest romantic ever.”

“Hmm.” Sander tilted his head to shake Robbe’s hand off, and then, placing his hands at Robbe’s waist, he tugged him in, capturing his mouth in a hard, fast kiss. His lips traveled to Robbe’s ear, leaving a few light kisses across his cheek, and he whispered huskily, “That all sounds very accurate, and you’re right no one would believe you.” He bit Robbe’s earlobe, briefly tonguing the small hoop earring. Robbe squealed and pushed him back, panting to catch his breath, eyes glaring.

Feeling very pleased with himself, Sander leaned back against the counter, saying coolly, “I still don’t know how I feel about you shaving it off. It’s grown on me. At first, I thought a chipmunk had moved onto your face, but now…”

“A chipmunk!” Robbe squawked indignantly.  “Weren’t you just waxing poetic about how sexy you thought it was? And anyway," he quirked an eyebrow, "I can’t put myself in your shoes." Using his best talking to a baby voice, he explained with pursed lips, "This adorable, sweet, baby face,” he pinched Sander’s cheek and then followed it with a light smack, “can’t grow a beard. I think you’re just jealous.”

“Hey!” Sander cried, swatting his hand away. “I happen to enjoy not having to shave all the time.”

Robbe took his hand and pulled him closer, kissing his shoulder. “And I enjoyed not having to shave this summer. But now, I’m tired of it, so it has to go.”

Sander wrapped both arms around Robbe and put on his best pout, eyes sad and pleading, bottom lip sticking out.   

Robbe laughed, slipping his hands into Sander’s back pockets. He gave Sander’s ass a squeeze and hugged him tighter. “You’re ridiculous.” He lifted up onto his toes and bit Sander’s thrust out lip, sucking it into his mouth before letting it slide out between his teeth. He let go with a ‘pop,’ and then wiggling his hips suggestively against Sander’s, he added, “If I shave, then you know what will happen?” He swayed them side to side, slowly, teasingly, hips pressing harder into Sander. One hand slid up Sander’s back, disappearing into his hair. He pulled Sander’s head down and kissed him, lingeringly, lips soft, tongue searching, slow and deep. 

Sander practically melted into his arms, his limbs turning to jello at the mere suggestion of Robbe’s hips, at the taste of his lips, his tongue. Robbe’s beard brushed softly against his cheeks and prickled the edges of his mouth. He was going to miss this, the delicious dichotomy of the longer soft hairs on his cheeks that tickled his skin and the shorter ones around his mouth that poked him and caught him off guard. He lifted his hands to Robbe’s cheeks and rubbed his palms up and down as they kissed, reveling in the scratch, the drag making his hands tingle. This was nice.

Robbe’s lips moved to his neck, and Sander took the opportunity to nuzzle his cheek and nose into the whiskers at Robbe’s jaw. They tickled and tingled, sending bolts of electricity to his toes. This was very nice.

Robbe’s lips traveled up his neck, the stubble leaving a burning trail that contrasted with his wet, open-mouthed kisses. So nice. This was so nice. It was such a different experience, so many different sensations. He was really going to miss this.

Robbe hugged him even closer, bending himself backwards, and then murmured into his jaw, “If I shave, I’ll have my 10:00 five o’clock shadow again, and I know how much you like that.”

It took Sander a moment to process his words, so overwhelmed by his hands and body and kisses, but when it registered, he stood tall abruptly, pulling out of Robbe’s embrace. “Done!” Sander loved the bare whisper of stubble on Robbe’s face, the dark shadow that heightened his features and made him look dead sexy. He could sacrifice the beard to have that back. Yes he could. He waved his arms vaguely at the razor, and said, “You have my permission.”

Robbe stood still, momentarily stunned, and then he burst into motion, laughing hysterically and falling forward to brace his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Fuck, Sander. You’re giving me whiplash.”

“Don’t blame me. You knew exactly what you were doing. Kissing me like that. Then exploiting my weakness for your permanent five o'clock shadow. You have no one else to blame,” he said, crossing his arms with a smug expression.

“You know,” Robbe said, coming forward and poking him in the chest, “I don’t need your permission. It’s my face.” 

“No, you don’t,” he agreed, an adoring smile lifting his lips. “Can I say goodbye first?”

Robbe's expression softened immediately. He raised his eyebrows, clearly perplexed, and nodded, “Sure.”

Lifting his hands to Robbe’s cheeks, he gently stroked the longer hairs on his jaw with his fingers, curling them to trace his knuckles up and down and then opening them to feel it one last time on his palms. It felt both familiar and alien, both soft and rough. It had been a totally new sensation, kissing and touching Robbe this summer, a joy he hadn’t known he wanted, and soon it would be gone. He leaned forward and lightly brushed his cheek against Robbe’s and then tucked his chin to rub his forehead all over Robbe’s face, making him giggle again. He kissed both cheeks and left one more light peck on his lips. “Okay. I’m done. You may proceed.”

Robbe’s eyes remained closed for a moment longer, his chin lifted as if chasing Sander’s lips. Slowly blinking his eyes open, voice coarse, he said, “I almost don’t want to now.”

Sander’s eyes shot up from where they had lingered on his mouth, immediately zeroing in on Robbe’s teasing gaze. Then it was his turn to roll his eyes. He fluffed Robbe’s wild hair and said, “But you’re still going to.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. It’s starting to itch.” He sighed, scratching his chin for effect. Then his demeanor changed, and he looked up at Sander from underneath his lashes, eyes dark and suggestive. “But don’t worry. I can grow it back any time, and then you can feel me up all you want.” He paused, delightedly watching Sander squirm before him, as he knew he would (sometimes being so predictable and completely at the mercy of one’s boyfriend was incredibly unfair). Robbe blew him a quick kiss and then followed it by poking his chest again and adding, “Unlike you.”

“Fuck you!” He brushed at Robbe’s hand.

“Later, baby,” Robbe said with a wink, and then he rose up to give him one last kiss. He patted Sander’s cheek playfully and said, “I love your doofy, soft, baby face. It’s perfect. Now go!” He turned Sander around and gave his ass a light smack before shoving him out of the door.

“I’m not entirely sure that was a compliment,” Sander called back over his shoulder. He could just see Robbe grinning at him as he pulled his hair out of his face into a bun. Holy fuck, he was hot! The beard was one thing, but if Robbe ever wanted to cut his hair short, Sander was prepared to stage a full-on revolt. He would mutiny. He loved Robbe’s wild, wavy locks. No matter how he styled his hair, it always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and Sander adored the sleep rumpled look. He was particularly fond of it when it was actually in bed, scattered across a pillow, but the fact that he could see it all day long was a bonus. Yes, Robbe’s hair was a treasure, and he’d use every tool in his arsenal to protect it, including guilt and begging, if necessary.

The beard could go. He’d save his energy to fight the real battle if and when it happened.  

 Sander had only just settled on a playlist to listen to while he scrolled through his phone when Robbe called him back to the bathroom. That was quick!

He pocketed his phone, leaving the music on, and trekked across the room.  “Done already?” he asked, walking straight in.

“Nope,” Robbe said, turning to face him with a broad grin and excited eyes. “What do you think?”

It took Sander a few moments to process what he saw. His first thought was that Robbe hadn’t even started because he still had whiskers, but then he noticed that Robbe’s cheeks were smooth and that his mouth now sported an oval-shaped goatee. “Wha--?”

Robbe snorted and rested his hand on the counter for balance. “Looks ridiculous, right?”

“Uhh...err...hmmm…” Sander struggled to respond coherently. He didn’t know how he felt about the goatee. It was definitely weird. It was Robbe’s face, his Robbe’s face, but he didn’t look right. Was it creepy or just new? He settled on, “Makes you look older.”

Robbe inspected his face in the mirror. “Maybe I do look older.” He winked at Sander's reflection and said, “We have established that you like older men, so I don’t think this is a problem.”

“Uhhh,” Sander grunted, brain misfiring. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Uh, you’re not...you’re not keeping it, right?” He met Robbe’s gaze in the mirror. “Right?”

Laughing again, he elbowed Sander lightly in the stomach and said, “Of course not! I just thought it would be fun to see what I looked like with a goatee.”

Sander exhaled, relief pouring out of him. He loved Robbe no matter what, but the goatee was too much too fast. The beard had grown on him gradually. The goatee was just...disturbing. “Good,” was all he said.

Robbe met his gaze in the mirror, a knowing look in his eyes. “You hate it.” 

He hesitated, “It’s...different.”

Robbe turned around, leaning back on the counter. “You hate it,” he insisted.

Sander sighed, “I hate it.”

“Well, now we know. No goatee,” he said, pecking Sander’s lips and then shoving him back out the door. “On to part two.”

Rolling his eyes, Sander asked, “Should I even leave at this point?”

“Yes!” he said emphatically.

“Fine. See you in three seconds.” He waved over his shoulder and headed back to the couch, pulling out his phone on the way.

It was significantly more than three seconds later when Robbe called him back. He walked into the bathroom with one hand over his eyes, asking, “Should I even look?”

“Hell yes! Sa-an, this is hilarious.”

Sander peeked through his fingers and immediately dropped his hand in shock. “No. No. No. Nope. No way. Absolutely not. No.” He waved his hands like a referee and shook his head for emphasis.

Robbe had a mustache. A creepy, crawly caterpillar mustache, sitting above his lip. It wasn’t a full mustache, more like a swath of hairs sticking out every which way in the general shape of a mustache, but Sander didn’t think more shaping would improve the effect. It creeped him out on a visceral level. 

“What?” Robbe asked, feigning ignorance. “Freddie Mercury had a mustache.”

Sander coughed and cringed. “Yeah, in the eighties, and I would say I’m a much bigger fan of his talent than anything else, especially his mustache. Much bigger. Ro-obe, get rid of that thing,” he whined.

“Wha-at?” Robbe whined back. “You don’t like it? Don’t you love me? What if I like it?”

“Don’t even pretend. I know you don’t. I love you, but it’s hideous Robbe. Absolutely not.”

Robbe cocked his head and then shrugged, smiling goofily. “You’re right. It’s awful. Now come over here and give me a kiss.” 

He reached his hands towards Sander’s face, pursing his lips into an exaggerated pucker, and Sander took an automatic step back. “Uh, uh, no. Not while that’s on your face. No kisses until it’s gone.”

Robbe stuck out his lip in a pretend pout and crossed his arms. “I should keep it just to spite you.”

“I’d shave it off in your sleep,” Sander chuckled. “Okay, let’s compromise.” He kissed Robbe’s cheek. “Now get rid of that thing, and I promise to kiss you senseless.”

“Deal,” Robbe said, but then he curled his fingers in Sander’s shirt and yanked him forward, sneaking in a surprise kiss on the lips. 

“Ble-yee-ack,” Sander sputtered, pretending to wipe the kiss off his mouth. 

Robbe cackled with glee and practically jumped up and down like an excited schoolgirl, thoroughly enjoying Sander’s disgust and dramatics. 

“Thought that was funny, hmm,” Sander huffed. Before Robbe could respond, he thrust out a hand, and pinched Robbe’s side right at his most ticklish spot. Completely caught off guard, Robbe nearly collapsed sideways. Sander caught him, but instead of setting him upright, he pinched and tickled Robbe’s other side with his other hand, causing him to lose his balance and fall against Sander in a fit of giggles. 

“You win. You win. Stop. Stooooooop.” 

Sander stilled his fingers and set Robbe back on his feet, brushing back the hairs that had fallen out of his bun. He kissed his forehead and then turned to leave. “I’ll see the less disturbing version of you in a minute.” He stopped at the door and looked back over his shoulder. “Still love you though.” He winked and walked the few steps back to the couch, collapsing on it backwards, knees bent over the backrest.

He closed his eyes, listening to the combination of his music and Robbe puttering about in the bathroom. He smiled to himself, a feeling of warm contentment washing over him. He was so lucky, so ridiculously lucky. He loved teasing Robbe, and Robbe not only enjoyed it, he teased him right back, giving as good as he got. It felt so wonderful to completely trust another person, to completely trust his good intentions, to believe in his love, and he knew the feeling was mutual. He had the best boyfriend in the world. Facial hair or no, loving him was easy, as natural as breathing. He was so fucking lucky.

A finger poking his nose pulled him out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes and couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Robbe leaned over him, upside down at this angle, face smooth and shiny from aftershave. “Hey, sexy,” he whispered. Fuck, he was so hot.

“Hey,” Robbe repeated shyly. 

Sander rolled over and stood up, immediately pulling Robbe into a hug and thrusting his face into his neck, breathing in the familiar smell of shaving cream and aftershave mixed with soap and skin. 

He pulled back and looked Robbe over, eyes darting all over his face. “You look and smell delicious.” He ran a thumb over Robbe’s soft cheek and cupped his neck before kissing him gently on the lips.

“What was that?” Robbe asked indignantly, brown eyes glittering like a naughty imp. “You said you were going to kiss me senseless. That wasn’t even--”

He was cut off by Sander lifting him off of the ground in a bear hug. He was halfway to Robbe’s bedroom before Robbe caught on and wrapped his legs around his waist, kissing him all over his face. 

Sander finally captured his lips in a sloppy kiss right before they tumbled into bed, where he proceeded to kiss Robbe senseless, among other things.

Yeah, he had the best boyfriend ever. He could live without the beard.