#his being there. or like how they see him. how they reflect on him through his role and class. and how many fascinating fuckin things

[angelovi]

Homecoming.·:≈☆≈:·.

cw; 18+ content, minors dni: spanking, fingering (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), breeding, age gap (reader is 22, ghost is 41), mirror sex, ghost is fully clothed in this, having to be quiet, gun fucking, quickie

summary: Its been a year since the supposed death of your husband after he was deployed, but when you wake up to find him lying next to you, alive and well, your life changes for the better.

an: short story, didn't wanna do too much lol

wc: 675

Marrying a soldier was always going to be tough, but getting the call that he was MIA while you’re carrying his child? That kind of loss cuts deeper than you ever imagined.

After a challenging hour of rocking and singing lullabies, you’ve finally settled your newborn baby girl to sleep for the night. As her tiny chest rises and falls in the soft glow of the night light, you feel relieved, determined to keep her peaceful and undisturbed.

You get into bed, but the sheets don't feel comforting. The light from the street lamp creates shadows that remind you of Simon's disappearance. You think about the laughter and good times you had together, now replaced by fear and worry.

You close your eyes, hoping to sleep, but feel overwhelmed by sadness and anxiety. Time seems to stand still, and you feel stuck in this moment, longing for the normal life you once had.

As you wake up, warmth envelops you from the big muscular man spooning you. You feel a curious stirring in your lower abdomen. The dim light filters through the curtains, highlighting the contours of his strong physique. His steady breathing and the security of his presence create a mix of intrigue and calm.

"Simon?.."

"Shhh, go back to sleep, love," he whispers softly, his movements tender and unhurried, as if memorizing the feeling of being this close to you. As my moans grow a little louder, Simon leans in, his lips brushing my ear as he murmurs, "Gotta be quiet, princess. Don’t wanna wake the baby. You’re such a good mama, I know you can keep it together for me…"

Simon slides his fingers into your mouth, stifling the moans threatening to escape as he takes you from behind with relentless precision. His grip is firm as he shifts you, positioning you to face the mirror beside the bed. “Look at yourself,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, “See how perfect you look while I’m ruining you.”

The first orgasm builds faster than you anticipated, crashing into you like a tidal wave.

Your body trembles as the wave of pleasure overtakes you, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Simon’s grip tightens on your hips, steadying you, a low, possessive growl rumbling in his chest.

His hand comes down to roughly meet your ass, spanking you hard. "That's my girl."

Your eyes meet your reflection in the mirror, cheeks flushed, lips parted, and a dazed expression that only fuels his intensity. Simon doesn’t relent, thrusting deeper, determined to chase your next high before you can even catch your breath.

"Daddy, fuck!" you gasp, barely able to get the words out.

That catches him off guard, his movements faltering for a moment before his lips curl into a slow, wicked smirk. "Say that again," he growls, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

"Daddy.."

"Again."

"Daddy!"

"Good girl." He pulls out quickly and you whine in protest. He spares a sympathetic smile before grabbing his pistol, ensuring the safety is on.

After seeing your concerned expression he reassures you. "It's alright love. You trust me yeah?" Before you can even mutter a response you can feel your hole being prodded at with the barrel of the pistol.

"S-Si!"

"It's alright baby take a deep breath.. Big stretch.." He slowly inserts the barrel of the pistol into you and you gasp at its size.

He slowly pulls the gun out before pushing it back in, feeling the way you instinctively tighten around it.

You toss your head back as a wave of pure bliss crashes over you, unable to hold back the soft sounds escaping your lips. "S-Si I'm gonna-"

"Let go. Make a mess around my gun baby girl."

With his words pushing you over the edge, you let go completely, surrendering to the moment without a second thought.

The baby's soft cries pull you from your haze, her stirring breaking the silence of the room. Simon chuckles, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like you woke her, love. Guess we'll have to work on keeping it quieter next time."

[ruruumin]

take my body back.

₊˚ ᗢ itoshi rin x childhood friend! fem! reader.

⤷ swapping bodies with isagi was not on his things to do, but loving you is.

this might have been either the worst thing imaginable, or the most humiliating. he is looking at himself in the mirror, eyes twitching. he brings up one hand to pull down the underside of his lower eyelashes. 

after crashing into each other during a practice game, isagi and rin had mysteriously swapped bodies. with stifled laughter from the rest of their team, they had to stay within the same infirmary until things settled down. ego chalked it up to being a very rare malfunction in their suits. while he works on a solution with anri, the two were dismissed from practices all together.

isagi was the more panicky of the two. he was looking at himself frantically in the mirror, shaking bachira by the shoulder in a frenzy. he couldn’t go home. not like this, he kept saying. even though isagi’s wish of being taller and physically stronger, he did not mean he wanted to be in rin’s body.

“what is so wrong with my body?” rin asks, albeit in isagi’s voice, coming off higher pitched and squeakier to his ears. 

“nothing!” isagi instantly shuts his mouth. he raises both of his hands, waving them around as he looks in all sorts of directions. being in the wrong body felt so weird. hearing rin’s voice come off as shy and embarrassed was the last thing on bachira and nagi’s bucket list. and god did they take pleasure out of their torment.

“its just that—how are we supposed to go back to our normal lives like this?” he confesses, scratching the back of his neck, “if i show up to my moms doorstep she’ll get the wrong idea!”

rin blinks slowly, a dull look casting over isagi’s body. “stop making such a big deal out of it. it’ll be fixed soon.” throwing a towel over his shoulder, rin is about to leave the locker rooms (in his body) before isagi reaches out to stop him.

“what about your girlfriend, what is she going to say?”

now this is the unfortunate reality. 

he has no idea how you will react to him going back home in a completely different body. and although you knew isagi in passing, he can’t just show up to your shared apartment like this. its a sick and cruel joke, he thought to himself. rin glances over to isagi with a hardened gaze.

him and his six foot body, long lower eyelashes and scowl are now being flipped inside out and upside down. seeing it as a different person and not just a reflection confuses him on unimaginable levels.

whatever he’s suggests next comes off like acid on his tongue.

.☘︎ ݁˖

you are shocked when you open the door. seeing two men, one of which is your boyfriend, and the other his rival, with opposite expressions. isagi is staring at you with a deep grimace while rin looks happy and relieved to see you. 

“let us in.” isagi, no, rin commands. 

“why is isagi here?” you ask, pressing your lips together as you step to the side. they shuffled out of their shoes, dropping them next to the cubby beside the door. “you should have told me if we were going to have guests over, i would have tidied up a little.”

rin’s eyes scans over your figure. you were wearing a plain t shirt and shorts, your hair was a bit of a frazzled mess, a clear sign that you had just woken up from your nap. he has half a heart to hug you right then and there, but touching you in isagi’s body is going to feel like poison. 

to his horror, you’re by isagi’s side, helping him take off his jacket. rin immediately reaches over to stop you, giving you a deadly glare.

“don’t touch him.” he warns.

this leads you to push him off to the side, frowning. “what are you doing?” in an accusatory tone, you peel off the jacket, “what has gotten into you, isagi? you used to be so polite.” 

“a-ah, well-” isagi bashfully looks away, “the thing is, i’m actually not rin.” 

“huh?”

rin pushes isagi away from you (god forbid he touches you in isagi’s body), huffing as he does so. feeling his chest through isagi’s hands is horrifically gross and he swears he will rip ego in half if he doesn’t find a solution quickly. 

after some short but confusing explanation from isagi, the two of them were seated on the couch while you stood over them. with a hand on your hip, you mumble something underneath your lips, trying to wrap your head around the strange phenomenon. 

“so my boyfriend is in...your body,” you point at rin’s body, dragging it over to isagi, “and you’re in rin’s body.” 

“that’s what we’re trying to tell you.” 

you flick rin’s forehead, causing him to deliver a sharp exhale, “this is your fault for not being more careful during practice matches. what happened to taking care of yourself? did it go in one ear and out the other?”

“of course not,” he huffs, brushing through his hair but noticing how much shorter it is now that he isn’t in his actual body. 

“this idiot over here was the one who got the yellow card.” 

“huh?”

isagi shoves a finger at rin, “you’re the one who rammed into me!” 

“can it!” 

the two of them start to bicker with one another. as serious as a head injury might be, you’re honestly flabbergasted seeing them together like this. it almost cracks a smile on your face when you see rin’s body soften. but you awkwardly clear your throat, breaking up the argument with a sigh.

“do you need a place to stay for the night?” you turn to isagi, “we can give you the couch to sleep on if you’re not comfortable going home right now. i think its the least i can do since rin has been so much trouble for you.”

before the man could protest at your words, isagi beamed with happiness and relief, “that would be great (name). i don’t want to overstay my welcome so i’ll leave tomorrow morning to see ego.”

“i can’t believe my rin rin can look this peaceful,” you say, swooning a little bit. 

“shut up,” rin claps a hand over your mouth, “all this nonsense is making me tired.” 

despite his harsh and seemingly cold words, you can read him too easily. the subtle touch on your shoulder is enough for you to decipher his wants, and what he wants right now is to unravel in your arms.

placing a hand on his lower bicep, you guide him into your shared bedroom, not before waving to isagi to tell him that you will fetch a warm blanket later. he nods and gives you few kind words. it makes you want to laugh at how obvious it was that they swapped bodies. rin can be polite to you, but never this polite. it makes the situation all the more entertaining when you feel your boyfriend drag you into your rooms.

away from isagi’s prying eyes, he is leaning his head against your shoulder, slowly exhaling. his chest moves up and down, shoulders racking down with shivers. you bring up one hand to pat him on the back, pulling him down from cloud nine. anymore of your warmth and he thinks he is about to sink into you. he has to hold back the urge to squeeze you because the body he is in is not his. 

its killing him inside how he wants to love you. 

you, his childhood friend and biggest fan, his light and first (possibly only) love. standing so cute and comfortable in front of him with eyes so warm it could melt his cold, popsicle-self into a pool of sticky wetness. he doesn’t mind that you aren’t dressed up. he thinks its even better, seeing you like this.

he doesn’t like how much shorter he is now. he used to be able to press a kiss on the top of your head with ease. now he’s...fun-sized, as he would put it. he lacks the arm muscles hes so used to having. he doesn’t have the confident suave he was born with (something you’ve always told was a birthright of the itoshi family).

it could have been worse, he tells himself. imagine he swapped bodies with igaguri or shidou. he would have thrown himself into the nearest river if he had to come home to you in shidou’s body. the thought alone makes him want to gag.

but with you in his arms, it makes his heart grow bigger. like the christmas grinch, he has finally found his happiness and the whimsical joys that come from being your boyfriend. its seriously killing him inside, he wants to kiss you with his own lips, hold you with his own arms, and carry you off into the distance in his body. 

you wipe away a string of tears that dribble down his cheek. he didn’t realize he was crying until he heard your gentle whispers. even though he no longer looks like sae, he misses his own body. he yearns to see the scowl on his face that he has grown to slowly love, only because you kept pressing kisses to his cheeks and dimples. he wants to see his hands on your hips, lifting you off the ground and onto the kitchen counters to hold you even closer to his chest, to kiss you at the same height.

he didn’t realize how much he has taken for granted until he was in someone else’s shoes. 

when you brush his, or isagi’s hair, he just wishes he could turn back the clock and kiss you stupid. steal the air from your lungs that he swore belongs to him, and him only. 

that night might have been the most strangest yet sweetest experience in the world. with isagi taking the couch and you and rin sleeping on the ground next to him (he didn’t want to sleep in an empty bed without you, and vise versa, he promises he wouldn’t let you be alone as long as he was here). 

hes holding onto your hand with his pinky, a subtle touch that sends warmth down his spine. even in a different body, you still love him.

and he loves you, so much that it hurts.

[happilyhertale]

Take your Place – Daemon Targaryen x fem!wife!reader

Summary: Your husband was away for months, leading the battle against the Triarchy and ultimately bringing victory. Now he is back and a ball is being held in celebration. Throughout the evening, you have spoken with many lords and ladies – but you have not seen the person you long for. So you go in search of him.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.8 k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The hall is filled with music and laughter. Lords and ladies are sitting at the various tables, engrossed in conversation. The wine tastes good and has already caused a few men to slip off their chairs tonight. And this exuberant mood is appropriate, because the Triarchy has finally been repelled in the Stepstones and your husband is being celebrated for it.

You walk through the rows of tables, looking for your husband. You know that he is most likely sitting somewhere with his men and has already had way too much to drink. But although you would normally be able to spot his silver hair anywhere, you can't see him.

But then something grabs your hand and pulls you down roughly. You cry out a little and are about to answer this impertinence with a slap in the face. But you look up as you land on a lap, fingers on your face, caressing you, while a drunken smile reflects back at you.

“Daemon!” you say, but you can't stop the smile that is already spreading across your face. You slowly try to get up again, but Daemon has other plans. His arms wrap around you and he presses his face into the crook of your neck while pressing your back against his chest.

“Stay.” is the only thing he slurs, and you notice the wine on his breath, which he has been consuming all evening.

You just smile slightly, but nod barely noticeable, as you stay on his lap. Your eyes wander around and you were right, his men have spent the evening with him. Some are already hanging drunk in the chairs and a few others are still trying to talk, but you only perceive a kind of grunt.

Daemon kisses your neck, his fingers press lightly into your thighs as he whispers in a low voice, “What are we going to do after this ball?”

You glance slightly over your shoulder and your eyes meet. His gaze is almost soft and you have to smile, “well... I'm going to go to sleep after this ball... you'll probably throw up...” you say to him, trying to suppress a smile.

Daemon chuckles and then laughs a little – he can't deny how many times he's thrown up in a bowl while you've been in bed.

“You know damn well that's not what I meant,” he mutters into your neck as his laughter subsides.

Now you have to giggle a little, “No?” you ask playfully, “I don't know what you mean...”

Daemon leans in and kisses your neck again, breathing into your ear, “I mean that I'd like to spend some time alone with you, love.”

Your eyes are locked on him and you see the determination in his gaze.

“Are you sure you're capable of having a night of pleasure... you're very drunk ...” you say softly.

Daemon grins drunkenly and caresses your cheek. He leans forward and whispers seductively in your ear.

“I'm not too drunk to make you moan, love.”

Your cheeks flush and your eyes widen.

“Daemon!” you say, and even some of his men grin at you, seeming to know what he's saying to make you blush.

Daemon grins at you and his fingers press into your thighs again as he leans forward to whisper in your ear again.

“I'm not too drunk to make you scream for me, love.”

The blush is now creeping down your cleavage. You bite your lip lightly.

“Stop it, Daemon...” you whisper, but you try to squeeze your thighs together a little as you notice the pulsing between your thighs.

Daemon chuckles at your reaction and squeezes your thighs even tighter. He continues to whisper seductively in your ear, “Then stop me, love. Come on.”

You can't stop yourself and you move your hips slightly to create some friction. But then Daemon grabs you and lifts you slightly to turn you on his lap. Confusion graces your features until you straddle him. “We're not supposed to be doing this here,” you say quietly, but he just grins.

“What? You're my wife and you're happy that I'm back... and you show me that by sitting on my lap,” he says, his words slightly slurred. You just shake your head slightly, but before you can say anything, Daemon presses his lips against yours. You gasp slightly, but you respond to his kiss. He grins when he feels your hips moving again, grinding against him slightly. He caresses your cheek and pulls you closer to him, his tongue meeting yours and your kiss intensifying. You feel him getting hard and you let out a small moan, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear. Daemon smiles a little as he feels that you cannot stop moving, that you keep grinding against him. He pulls your hips closer to him as he speaks, letting his fingers glide along your thighs. His lips gently slide down your neck and whispers seductively, “I'd like to see your dress on the floor.” Your eyes flutter closed and his words elicit a slight moan from your lips. But you bite your lip to make no further sound.

“The skirt of my dress is very wide...” you finally whisper softly, breathing heavily. “Maybe you could unbutton your trousers and... I mean, I could sit on you and no one would notice...“ you say quietly.

“But you're already sitting on me...” he mumbles teasingly and gets an annoyed look from you. Daemon glances over at his men and tries not to grin. None of them are looking in your direction, they seem to be engaged in conversation or have their heads on the table, snoring.

“But maybe.. it could work,” he mutters finally. Daemon slides his hand under your skirt, begins to unbutton his trousers, and glances at you from time to time. You look at him, everything except for your upper bodies is hidden under the skirt of your dress. Daemon lets his hands move back to your hips and you move slightly again. Then you have to suppress a moan as you feel his hard cock, how its length presses against your folds. His hands slide to your hips, gripping you, as he presses his the tip of your cock against your entrance.

You look at him, gasp slightly and then lean forward to kiss him as you feel your cunt clench around nothing from the mere anticipation of getting to sheath him. Slowly you lift up and then slowly lower yourself onto his hard cock.

You let yourself sink all the way down, your breath catching. You don't move so that no one can see what you are doing, but you're breathing out heavily.

Daemon suppresses a groan as he feels you move. He leans back further in his chair, eyes closed and head tilted back slightly. His smile widens a little, you feel his cock twitch slightly inside you. “You're so filthy, love,” he murmurs. You bite your lip, moving your hips slightly. “Gods... Daemon...,” you whisper. You close your eyes as he fills you completely. Daemon's moans are becoming harder and harder to suppress. He looks around to make sure his men are not watching. He leans forward to speak seductively in your ear, “Good girl. You feel so good,“ and makes you whimper. “I've missed your big cock...“ you suddenly let slip, making Daemon chuckle briefly, but it ends in a groan as he feels you moving up and down slowly.

“Gods... You feel so good, my love.” He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth as he leans back in his chair and his hands return to your thighs. His hand finds its way under your skirt, his fingertips leaving a fiery trail on your skin.

His thumb glides through your folds until he finds your clit and begins to rub it, making you whimper again “Daemon... I... I...” you stutter as your hips move a little faster. You slide up and down along his length, breathing heavily, your hand sliding to the back of his neck, gripping him, and he growls. Daemon leans forward again, biting your earlobe, “Good girl. That's a good girl.” He leans his head back again, trying to suppress a groan. His gaze returns to you, and he feels your cunt flutter around his cock as you slam your hips down on him. His thumb rubs faster as he kisses you again.

“Come on... Show me how much you've missed this... Riding me... My cock deep inside your tight cunt,” he growls against your lips. And then you moan into his mouth. Your pussy clutches his thick cock. “Gods...” you whimper as your orgasm floods your body. Your cunt milks his cock as you slide up and down. He grunts as he feels his balls tighten. “Daemon...” you whimper, your hand on his neck slides into his hair, grabs lightly while you cum all over his cock. Daemon bites the inside of his lip to suppress a groan. His eyes are closed and his expression is full of lust; he is visibly enjoying it. You moan into his mouth as your orgasm subsides. You are breathing heavily, your eyes are closed. Slowly you open them again, you feel his hips moving slightly again. “Did you come?“ you ask in a whisper. Daemon sighs contentedly and looks down at you. He glances around to make sure that no one is around. ”Not yet, my love,” he speaks softly and caresses your face. “And you will help me finish it,” he grunts. You nod and lean forward again to kiss him. Your hips move slightly faster. “Come for me, my dragon,“ you whisper against his lips. Daemon is breathing heavily and his eyes are closed. He moans softly, your words making his cock twitch. He grabs your waist. "I'm close, love. I'm close.” “Fill me, my dragon...” you whisper against his lips. While you press your hips firmly against him. His cock is deep inside your tight heat as you gyrate your hips. Your hips move faster as you gently bite his lip.

And then he moans, his hips thrusting up and making you squeak slightly. He growls as he pumps his cum into you. You kiss him again and let your hips slow down. You slide up and down more slowly, milking the last drop out of him, to ride out his orgasm. His eyes are closed as he breathes heavily, clenching his teeth. “Love,” he growls.

Daemon leans forward and presses his forehead against yours. He tries to speak but nothing but breathless groans come out, although he tries to hide it. His breathing is slow and shallow as he holds you. “Gods, Love, gods.” he gasps quietly. You giggle slightly and gently kiss his cheek.

“Shall we retire to our chambers?” you whisper, and he just nods. His hands slide back under your skirt, fully covering himself again, and then he helps you up from his lap.

[mountttmase]

All That Matters

Note - merry (early) Christmas everyone 🩷 I’ve missed writing dad Mase and he’s just the most precious Christmas angel in this one. I hope you like it and feedback would be very much appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6.4k

Warnings - fluff and smut

‘What’s that pout for, pretty girl?’ Mason asked as he snaked his arm around your waist. His lips pressing the most gentle kiss to your temple but you just shrugged and pursed your lips.

‘Dunno I just feel a bit meh’ you told him. Feeling a little guilty that you were ruining today a little with your mood but thankfully Mason was the only one to pick up on it and you were hoping it would stay that way.

Christmas was usually your favourite time of year. You just loved all of it and since you’d had the kids, it had only made it more special. You loved decorating the house, cooking for everyone and picking out presents that you knew the special people in your life would love more than anything and the fact Mason was also big on Christmas made it even more fun. A chance for you both to reflect on another year of your lives you’d spent together, learning and loving the other one just like always but there was something about this year where you just couldn’t get into the spirit like usual.

Right now you should have been in your element. You were at your favourite garden centre, surrounded by beautiful twinkling lights as the smell of hot chocolate and sweet treats floated through the air, all whilst the kids got more and more excited about what they were about to do. Discussing with each other their Christmas lists and what they wanted to say to the big man himself but you were more focused on the little boy who was strapped to your chest and looking up at you adorably. His tiny cheeky smile was so much like Mason’s and everytime he directed it your way you felt a wave of happiness and love flood you.

‘Well you better turn that frown upside down before Santa sees it. He might ask you to sit on his knee so he can cheer you up and I won’t be having that’ Mason suddenly butted in, his words making you roll your eyes but you knew he was only trying to make you smile and you could feel the corners of your mouth turning up automatically.

‘Will you stop it’

‘Sorry baby’ he laughed. Pulling you into his side so he could drop a kiss on your head but even his affections went making you feel much better this time. ‘Tell me what’s up’

‘It’s just…’ you trailed off. Not knowing how to vocalise your thoughts anymore just in case you sounded silly but Mason being Mason could read you and when he tipped your chin up so you could look at each other you felt a little weight lifted.

‘What baby?’

‘This is Ryley’s first time seeing Santa right?’ You started. Watching Mason's confused face as he listened on but you knew he was really trying for you.

‘Yeah?’

‘So how many more of his firsts are we gonna blitz our way through in the next month?’ You asked him but he still looked a little bewildered and confused. ‘This is the last time we’ll ever take our baby to meet Santa for the first time. The last time we’ll get to buy one of the kids a my first Christmas jumper or buy them a special bauble for the tree. I just can’t believe we’ve got here like life is going way too quickly for me’

‘Oh sweetheart’ he pouted, squeezing your side to let you know it was okay and he understood but that didn’t mean you still weren’t going to be moody about it. The pair of you had decided that once Ryley was born then that would be it for your family, no more babies so you weren’t struggling and were able to give the ones you have all the love in the world. You were most definitely still on board with your decision but as you made your way through all of Ryley’s firsts it hit you they were also your lasts.

‘Doesn’t help Ollie is basically an old man at this point and probably won’t even believe in Santa next year. Like when did he get so big?’ You asked, eyes filling with tears that you tried to sniff away but Mason knew you were upset and the sad smile on his face didn’t do much to help you feel any better.

‘You forget my love, Tilly is absolutely mental and will probably still believe in him until she’s 15 just to spite everyone else’ he whispered. Kissing your cheek as he stroked the back of Ryley’s head softly. ‘And this munchkin, well he’s basically fresh from the womb. We’ve got loads of time left with him’

‘Mason he's one in two months’

‘Who’s next?’ you suddenly heard. Looking up to see a younger girl dressed as an elf smiling at the five of you widely and you knew you had to pep yourself up a bit. Placing a hand each on Ollie and Tilly’s shoulder to push them forward a bit as you could tell they were a little apprehensive.

‘That's us guys, come on don’t be nervous. You’ve been waiting all year to see the big man’ you reassured them and your heart almost broke when Tilly reached up to hold Ollie’s hand to ease her nerves.

Ollie let Tilly speak to Santa first, the pair of them getting over their nerves a little bit and you listened intently as to what she was asking for so you could make a mental note as to what you needed to get. Doing the exact same with Ollie but just as you’d expected his list was just full of books and comics.

‘Who’s the little one then?’ Santa asked as soon as Ollie was done and you smiled as you began to undo the straps on your papoose to get him out but before you could speak Tilly was telling Santa who he was about to meet.

‘That's my baby Ryley’ she told him, making Santa laugh as you sat him on Santa's knee but you made sure you stayed close just in case he got scared. Thankfully for you Ryley was fine and seemed more curious about him than anything else. Wanting to reach out and touch his beard as he showed Santa his new trick of poking his tongue out, something you figured Tilly had taught him, so you took it upon yourself to speak on his behalf.

When it was time to go, just after you’d all had your picture taken with the main man, Santa let the kids pick a little present out from his bag. Ollie grabbed one for Ryley too but Tilly was straight over to Mason as she figured something was wrong.

‘Daddy, are you gonna sit on Santa's knee and tell him what you want?’ She asked and you nearly dropped Ryley as you tried to put him back in the papoose as you were laughing and wondering how he was going to works his way out of this one

‘Nah it’s okay baby, I’ve uh… I’ve emailed him mine and mummy’s list already’ he told her as he looked to Santa for some back up and thankfully he caught on.

‘That's true’ Santa smiled. ‘I had a look at it this morning’

‘Come on then, say thank you to Santa’ Mason smiled. Picking Tilly up and popping her on his hip as he guided Ollie out and back to the main shop. You’d promised them you’d get them a treat on the way out so you made a stop in the food hall for a gingerbread man iced to look like Santa for the two older ones before popping everyone back in the car. Passing Ryley a biscuit you’d already packed for him as gingerbread was a bit tough for him and he smiled back at you widely before tucking in.

It wasn’t a long drive home, but Mason had his hand in yours the whole time as he softly sung along to the Christmas songs on the radio. Normally you would be singing along with him but you didn’t feel like it today. Your eyes flickering in between the view outside and your mirror so that you could check up on Ryley but he was conked out already. His little chubby fingers wrapped around Tilly’s as she munched on her biscuit with her free hand and the whole scene made your heart thump in your chest.

When you got home you got Ryley in as carefully as you could so he’d stay asleep and popped him in his room for a nap. The house was unusually quiet and when you were done with Ryley so you went in search of Mason who was laid on the sofa with the tv on quietly and Nala curled up curled up at his feet.

‘Where are the others?’

‘Ollie’s reading and Tilly’s just over there’ Mason told you quietly. Nodding over to the other sofa opposite where Tilly was also fast asleep with a blanket thrown over her little body.

‘Why is she over there?’ You laughed, walking over to Mason who was holding his arms out for you and even though you knew what would happen if you laid down with him, you still went with it. Needing his comfort more than anything as you were feeling so fragile.

‘Cause she’s like a little ball of fire when she sleeps and anyway I wanted us to talk without waking her up’

‘What about?’ You asked. Trying to play dumb but just frowned at you as you nuzzled into his neck, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that day.

‘You feeling any better?’ He asked, lips on your forehead as he stroked your back softly. You loved the way he cared so much and was so concerned about you but you still felt a bit silly and unsure as to how to vocalise your feelings.

‘A little bit’

‘You expect me to believe that?’ He whispered and you couldn’t help but giggle. No matter how much you tried to hide anything from Mason it never worked so you did your best to explain what was going on inside your head and he listened along intently. Never making you feel silly or stupid about your feelings no matter how insane you thought you sounded.

It was just a lot and you felt responsible for all of Christmas. That wasn’t because Mason didn’t help, there was only so much he could do with his busy schedule and you knew anytime you did need help he’d be there but you wanted to make sure everyone had a good time. That on top of trying to make Ryleys first Christmas a memorable one was causing everything to crumble around you.

‘Do you remember your first Christmas?’ He asked after you were done ranting. Stroking your jaw gently as he looked at you but as much as you tried to think your mind was blank.

‘No’

‘I don’t remember mine either, pretty sure Ollie doesn’t and Tilly doesn’t remember what happened yesterday half the time’ he joked making you chuckle as you nuzzled into him. You knew he was right, there was no need to be so stressed as Ryley was still so little and wouldn’t remember it anyway but you still wanted to make it a special time for everyone no matter how down you were feeling.

You had to stop talking eventually when Tilly woke up and saw the pair of you having a cuddle without her. To say she wasn’t best pleased was an understatement and you tried to hold in your giggles as she sleepily stomped over to you and demanded to join. Mason was right though, she felt like a human radiator and you could feel yourself overheating but you didnt move. Now Ryley was here it wasn’t often you got time like this with just your baby girl so you held her just as tight as Mason was holding the both of you.

As the weeks flew by, you made it through all of Ryley’s firsts just like you thought you would. Finding the perfect my first Christmas jumper for him, letting him choose his special bauble for the tree by holding two up and getting him the one he reached for. You’d taken him Christmas shopping which was so busy and hectic you’d vowed to do the rest online but you had managed to pick him up his first stocking with a big R embroidered on the front.

Shopping online was pretty easy in the end and you managed to get most things without needing to go to an actual shop. It was a week before Christmas though when you were double checking everyone’s lists and you knew you were missing something.

It wasn’t something Tilly had written down on her list to send to Santa but something she’d asked for when she’d seen him. Telling you later on that day that she’d done that to see if he was actually listening and would bring for her and now you felt like you were about to ruin the idea of Santa for her forever.

It was a singing Olaf toy from Frozen. The new it toy apparently and everywhere you looked it was sold out. All the big toy stores, the little ones too and even the independent ones near you said they would be out until the new year and you cursed yourself for not remembering and getting it sooner. It was just another thing that had fallen to the back of the queue after everything else that had occupied your brain and when you told Mason later that night he told you not to worry and to leave it with him to fix. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that but you trusted him and left him to it.

Next on the list of forgotten things was the Christmas food shop, remembering the next night that you should probably get it all in the basket and checked out before it was too late and once Mason was putting all the to kids bed you sat in the kitchen and got to work.

‘You okay in here gorgeous?’ You heard, looking up to see Mason had popped his head around the doorway and you sent him a soft smile. ‘Kids are all in bed’

‘Thanks baby’ you uttered. Rubbing the heels of your hands into your eyes to try and wipe away some of the tiredness you felt but before long you felt Mason's hands on your shoulders as he tried to work out some of the knots that had formed.

‘You alright?’ He whispered. Dropping a kiss to your head as his fingers worked their magic and you had to stop yourself from groaning in pleasure.

‘I’m okay, just doing the Christmas food shop and trying not to forget anything’ you chuckled. Pulling out the chair next to you so he could take a seat as you talked him through everything you’d picked and thankfully you had everything. You had both agreed you’d do it online this year as there wasn’t much time to go to the shops and the thought of trying to get everything with the kids in tow filled you with nightmares. Thankfully they said they had slots available at such short notice and once Mason had gone through everything you only had to add in a few extra bits that he wanted. When you came to check out you though you felt deflated once more and Mason was eyeing you curiosity. ‘I don’t believe it, there’s no good bloody slots available. 4pm on Christmas Eve is the last one’

‘That’s okay baby, it’ll still get here on time’ he reassured you. Kissing your temple softly as he could see you were getting stressed again and with a big huff you paid for your order even with the delayed delivery as you didn’t really have any other options.

‘Sorry I feel so unorganised this year, feels like it’s all going wrong’ you laughed as you shut the laptop down. Mason was pulling you into his chest immediately after though and you felt yourself relax in his embrace.

‘Don’t worry, it’s fine. Nothing will go wrong as long as we’re all together, yeah?’ He reassured you and even though you nodded you couldn’t say you were completely agreeing with him right now. ‘Can I help with anything? Maybe I could start on some wrapping?’

‘It’s late Mase, don’t you wanna go to sleep?’

‘Nah, let’s blast some of this out and then we can head up. We’ll feel better when we’ve got a bit done’ he reassured you and you spent the next half an hour wrapping up a big chunk of presents so you made sure to give Mason a big kiss to say thank you as knowing that part was taken care of had lightened your load a little bit.

It was 4pm on the dot on Christmas Eve when the food shop turned up. Not exactly the best time but you left the kids and Nala in the living room with a movie on and some snacks whilst you and Mason got to work bringing it in but Mason got stuck talking to the driver who turned out to be a United fan in the end so you got started putting everything away.

You knew something was wrong as soon as you started unpacking the bags. Some of the stuff was what you’d ordered yet a few things weren’t and when you got to the most important part you could have torn your hair out.

‘Sorry love, thought I’d do my good deed and have a chat with him. You getting on alright?’ he laughed as he walked into the kitchen but you were facing away from him so he couldn’t see how upset you were at first. It only took a small, barely audible sniff from you to grab his attention and within a nanosecond he was crossing the kitchen and gently cupping your jaw to look at you. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

‘It’s all wrong, they’ve swapped a load of stuff out and we haven’t got half the things I need’ you gulped. Tears slowly falling down your cheeks as everything finally got the better of you. This Christmas had been overwhelming to say the least but you’d tried to put on a brave face through it all. This was the straw that broke the camel's back though and as Mason pulled you into his chest you sobbed as quietly as you could.

‘Come on baby, surely it’s not that bad’ he told you lightly. Swaying you from side to side as he kissed your head but in your mind this was a disaster. ‘Sit up here and tell me what’s wrong’ he told you, pulling away so he could pop you up on the island counter and once he was settled in between your legs you began to list everything off.

‘They’ve sent the wrong stuffing mix, that dessert you wanted they’ve swapped for something completely different, all the veg looks weird and they’ve sent us millions of potatoes’

‘That doesn’t sound so bad, I’m not really meant to have too many sweets so maybe it’s a blessing in disguise’

‘We don’t have a turkey’ you pouted. Your eyes welling up again as both looked over to the big plastic wrapped bird sat a few feet away from you on the counter and a questioning look settled over Masons features.

‘What’s that then?’

‘It’s just a really big chicken’ you sobbed. Hands covering your face as you began to cry even harder than before and you knew that you looked completely ridiculous crying over a chicken. Mason pulling you back to his chest and you could feel him trying to hold in the laughs as he rubbed your back.

‘Baby come on, you’re alright’ he whispered but unfortunately his words did nothing to calm you like they normally did and you carried on sobbing until he pulled away and held your jaw so he could wipe your eyes. ‘Hey hey hey, look at me’ he whispered. ‘I couldn’t care if it was a turkey or a flying fucking pig okay? As long as tomorrow I’m sitting round the table with you and the kids, that’s all that matters yeah? Christmas is about being together not what’s on our plates’ he told you with a smile and you knew he thought you were completely ridiculous.

‘I just feel like a rubbish mum’ you sniffed and the look of hurt that flashed across his face made your heart hurt.

‘Please don’t say that he pouted. ‘You’re the best mummy in the world I promise. You’ve worked so hard for all of this for us and you know me and the kids appreciate everything’ he reassured you before a tiny smile tugged at his lips again. ‘You know what? I hate turkey, It’s dry as fuck. As for the kids, I don’t think they’ll even realise okay? You don’t have to get upset about it’

‘Are you sure?’ you sniffed. His words lifting you slightly when he nodded back at you. ‘I knew I should have got one the other day. It’s too late to go and get anything now and they’ll be sold out anyway’

‘Right well let’s sort this all out and make a plan, yeah?’ He smiled. Tapping your thigh before popping a sweet kiss to your lips and you couldn't believe how lucky you were to have him.

It didn’t take that long for you to work everything out. Going through the list of the swaps and whilst it was inconvenient, Mason made you see things would just have to be a little different this year and that it was fine. That maybe some of them could be new traditions for your family and that you still had all the main bits you were just making this year more memorable with a few changes.

‘I’m sorry for getting so upset’ you sighed once everything was away and you had more of a plan for tomorrow. Wrapping your arm around his waist before he pulled you into a cuddle and the warmth of his body relaxed you like nothing else.

‘You’re upset because you care and that’s exactly what I love about you, okay?’ He told you softly. Kissing the top of your head as he stroked up and down your back. ‘Now come on, we can catch the rest of the film before we put the kids to bed’

Even after you told them all they had to to have an early night and that Santa would only come if they were asleep you could tell it wasn’t going to be an easy night for you. The eldest two were excited beyond belief and even though Ryley was so small it was like he could feel the change in the air and was just happy to join in. Crawling around on the floor with Nala so he could follow Ollie who was pretending to run away slowly and all three of them found it hilarious. Tilly in hysterics as she giggled away but little did you know it would be Mason that would make it all worse. Tickling her tummy until she was laughing through her tears and you knew it was about to be a long night.

It was chaos, but you loved your little family so much and it made your heart happy to see how excited everyone was and how the kids were none the wiser to your mixed up emotions this year. There was so much love in this room and you couldn't take your eyes off of Mason as all the kids piled in on him. He was right, just like usual, and as long as you were all together tomorrow then you’d be fine.

You managed to regain a little bit of control when you told them it was time to put snacks out for Santa. Mason telling them they should put a brownie and a hot chocolate out instead as he bet Santa was sick of mince pies and milk but you knew it was just because he didn’t want another one and would prefer something chocolatey. Ollie wouldn’t have it though and told him that he wasn’t risking Santa not stopping by because they’d put the wrong snacks out and you made a deal that you’d eat the mince pie if he drunk the milk and took a bite out of the carrot.

Once you knew they were all asleep you got to work arranging all the gifts in their own little sections before placing some under the tree. You could tell you were both exhausted though so you did what you could before traipsing back upstairs and collapsing into bed. Not bothering to set an alarm as you knew the kids would be waking you up early anyway but to your surprise it was Mason that woke you up before anyone else. His hands lightly massaging your waist as he kissed your neck from behind and you were hoping he might let you have a little bit of well needed stress relief after the last few weeks.

‘Merry Christmas, beautiful’ he whispered into your neck. The sound making your skin tingle as you could tell my the tone of it that he was after the same thing you were craving.

‘Merry Christmas, Mase’

‘If my calculations are correct, we’ve got about 15 minutes before the kids come looking for us’ he whispered lowly and the sound made you shiver.

‘Oh really?’

‘Mhmmm. You gonna let me give you an early gift?’ He whispered and if you weren’t so turned on you would have found it strange how you were so in tune with each other. That didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him a little bit though.

‘I’m not sure, Mase. Have we got time?’ You asked innocently whilst rubbing your behind all over his lap and you knew you were having the desired effect as he gripped your waist tightly.

‘Don’t doubt me’ he whispered, a smile evident in his voice. ‘Just stay there baby, let me take care of you’ he told you but you felt his warmth leave you almost immediately. Hearing him moving around behind you but when you saw his boxers fly over the top of you and drop to the floor you knew what he’d done. Giggling as you felt his body heat return and when his lips touched your neck you moaned quietly.

Even though Mason had gone to the effort of undressing himself, clearly he was too impatient to wait until you were also undressed because you felt his fingers push your shorts down slightly and your underwear to the side shortly after. His fingers dragging up and down you deliciously until he popped them in his mouth and got back to work.

As much as you loved it when he was teasing you like this, you also knew you didn’t have that much time and you wanted to feel him properly so you started to buck your hips back into him a little more in hopes he’d get the message and thankfully he did. Feeling him shuffle a bit after a second or two before gripping himself and guiding his way inside you as carefully as he could.

You felt yourself melt into the sheets as soon as he was inside of you. Feeling him drag in and out of you deliciously as the familiar thickness of him made you shiver once more. No matter how many times you were in this position it felt better than the last but you knew where you were and the possibility that little ears might be able to hear you soon so you covered your mouth and did your best to keep quiet.

‘Don’t be shy baby, I wanna hear you’ Mason murmured in your ear. His voice strained as he lost himself in you and clearly you had to remind him why you couldn’t let loose.

‘’Remember where we are’ you chuckled, feeling him sigh into your neck before he began to pull out but within a flash he’d pulled you onto your back and was pushing inside you again. His lips on yours to silence any moans the pair of you were making and as much as you were in your element you could tell he was holding back a bit now. ‘Masey, please’

‘What is it, baby?’

‘M-more please’ you breathed. Wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close and the little chuckle that fell from his lips excited you.

You werent went quite sure what he was doing, but he moved all of his weight over to one side so he could lean on one arm. His free hand now moving its way up your body until he reached your neck and the slight squeeze made you groan in delight as his hips began to snap back and forth quicker.

‘That’s it, that what you wanted?’ He cooed in your ear. The soft sound of his voice a stark contrast to how he was treating you right now but you couldn’t get enough. You loved it when he was a little rough with you like this and you could feel your thighs tingle in pleasure.

‘Mhmmm’ you moaned, letting him capture your lips once more to silence you.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he breathed into your mouth and before you knew it, it was getting too much for him. Ducking his head into your neck as you threaded your fingers through his hair so you could pull on it slightly just how he liked.

It was the wet kisses he was pressing into your neck that finally tipped you over the edge. Moaning into his shoulder as he quickened his pace but he was finished just after you and the little giggle that left his lips warmed your heart.

You’d barely caught your breath before you heard the footsteps running down the hall and Mason stiffened in your arms. Immediately knowing he was completely bare under the covers and if Tilly was up to her usual then this wouldn’t end well.

‘Fuck, what am I gonna-‘

‘Just lay down it’s fine’ you giggled as Tilly burst into your room. Running straight over and into your arms and you tried to hold in your laughs at how awkward Mason was being but it was hard when Tilly was so excited.

‘Santas been!’

‘Has he?’ You beamed, watching her excitedly roll off the bed so she could run over to Mason behind you but before she could, she managed to pick up Mason's discarded underwear off the floor and pop them on her head like a hat. Clearly too overcome with excitement to even think about what she was doing but Mason was mortified as he watched her run around your room in the black Calvin’s he was previously wearing not too long ago.

‘Tilly baby’ you giggled, jumping up so you could take them off of her head before flinging them back to Mason and he caught them before stuffing them under the covers. ‘How about we go and get Ollie so we can see what Santa left us and daddy can go and wake Ryley up?’ You told her. Taking her hand and walking her out of your room as you shot Mason a look over your shoulder, just in time to watch him blowing you a kiss.

Ollie was already awake which made things easier and you were only waiting for a few minutes for Mason and Ryley to make an appearance. Ryley still sleeping soundly by the looks of things as his little face was nuzzled into Masons neck so they both sat in the arm chair and you all let Ryley wake up a little bit more. Nala coming to join you moments later and she seemed confused as to why you were all up and awake but she sat herself by Mason and watched what was going on intently.

The eldest two were chomping at the bit to get started so you let them go. Helping them pick the right presents for the right person and clearing up slightly after them as they went but you loved watching them get excited with each new gift and the noise had Ryley interested so Mason came to join you with him for a bit so he could get involved.

The kids were most of the way through the presents and you knew Mason hadn’t been able to get the toy Tilly so desperately wanted. She was clearly excited and happy about everything she’d received but you knew she was looking for it and with each present opened her hope was waning.

Mason told you he’d sorted it and you didn’t know if he was hiding it somewhere for an extra special surprise but when you gave him a nervous glance he just winked at you before searching under the tree.

‘Oh wow, Tilly have you seen this?’ Mason asked as he sat back up and when you looked over he was holding a thick white envelope with her name perfectly inscribed on the front. ‘What does that say baby?’

‘Tilly’ she smiled, pointing at herself as it was one of the few words she could read and Mason nodded at her proudly.

‘That's right, it’s for you’ he told her, passing it over. ‘Why don’t you open it and maybe mummy will read it to you?’

You watched her scurry over. Passing you the official looking envelope that you quickly tore into quickly before opening up a typed up letter on some Santa stationery and you sat her on your knee so you could read it together.

‘Oh wow Tilly, a letter from the big man himself?’ Mason smiled and you knew she was beaming back at him. ‘Thats huge’

‘Santa mummy’ she squeaked. Your heart melting at the effort Mason had gone to to keep his little girl happy.

‘I know baby. That’s nice of him isn’t it, and you can wait can’t you?’

‘I can wait’ she nodded, holding her letter like it was the most important thing she’s ever received.

‘Good girl’

‘Ollie look’ she shouted. Jumping down from next to you so she could show him her letter and he seemed impressed by what he was seeing.

Mason was coming over to sit with you soon after with Ryley cradled in his arms and a few unopened gifts for you to open with him. Letting Ryley tear the paper as best as he could after you’d started him off to reveal a few new soft toys and some things to chew on but soon enough Ollie needed help trying to set up a new game he’d been gifted. Mason handed Ryley over so you could cuddle up together and give him his morning feed in peace, knowing you needed a few moments alone with your boy before the chaos of the day took over. Mason also hadn't gotten involved too much this morning as he sat with Ryley and you knew he wanted to spend some time playing with the kids.

‘Merry Christmas little man’ you whispered. Stroking his head gently as he looked up at you and you felt so full of love you wanted to squish him. His little hand stroking Nala next to him and you knew it was a comfort thing to have her close by when he was having a feed. ‘You probably won’t remember any of this but it’s all a little messed up this year. I’ll make sure it’s all fixed for next year though, and you can join in a little bit more, yeah?’ You told him. Hoping he understood what you meant somehow but even if he didn’t you were still excited for what the day held.

One of the big gifts you’d bought Ryley was a walker and whilst the kids were occupied with looking at their gifts, Mason put it together as you made the pair of you a coffee. Popping him in it after it was done so he could get a feel for it and soon enough he was walking around and crashing into everything. Your bright idea now seeming like a nightmare as he tried to run from room to room and bounce off the walls but Mason thought it was hilarious and was following after him to try and record Ryley on his little rampage.

‘Thank you, Mase’ you told him as he came into the kitchen to get his coffee you’d made him but he stopped in his tracks at your words.

‘What for?’ He asked curiously. Placing his hands around your waist as he pulled you to his body and you couldn’t resist reaching up and kissing him softly. This morning had been crazy but it was the first time in a while you hadn’t felt so rubbish about everything and you knew it was him you had to thank for that.

‘For talking me down everytime I’ve wanted to have a hissy fit these last months’ you smiled. ‘And for reminding me that Christmas is about us just being together’

‘I’ll tell you everyday if you need me to, you know that right?’ He whispered, pecking your lips softly once more. ‘I mean it, everything that’s good about our family comes from you and I’d never want you to think what you do for us isn’t good enough when my life with you is more than I could have ever asked for’

‘Masey’ you pouted. Your eyes filling up for a whole different reason and when he softly placed a kiss on your nose you couldn’t help but let them spill over.

‘Hey, no tears on Christmas’ he winked, wiping your cheeks. ‘I mean it though, you’re the best mum and wife and friend I could have ever asked for and we love you so much’

‘I love you too’

‘Are you ready to see what Santa got you now the kids have had their gifts?’ He asked, hoping a change of subject would cheer you up a bit and it worked as you were itching to see what gift he’d pulled out of the bag for you this year.

‘Yes please’ you giggled. Letting him take you hand and walk you back into the chaos that was Christmas morning in the Mount household.

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — 4 | 5 | 6

masterlist

your phone

you sat cross-legged on the living room couch, staring into a space of nothingness. inviting rafe cameron over was a bold move, for you — how would sarah react? better yet, how would your cousin react? knots twisted in your stomach as you waited for his arrival, your anticipation running wild.

there was a part of you that regrets this decision already. what were you thinking? but here you are, your heart skipping a beat at the littlest of sounds: you’re on edge.

despite the looming feeling that this was a bad idea, there was an undeniable thrill that washed over you. maybe that’s why you’d asked him in the first place — your curiosity getting the better of you, you wanted to know more about him.

time moved slowly, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this will play out…

your story

sarahcameron replied to your story:

hottttt

jjmaybank replied to your story:

there she is!

kiaracarrera and itscleo liked your story

your phone

boredom had gotten the better of you, as you awaited the arrival of the oldest cameron sibling… logging back into your twitter, you had swore you’d never use again (hating the toxicity it brought with it).

having lied to sarah about your plans of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a slight shred of guilt. but, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. like rafe said, “none of their business”.

as you were conjuring up a new ‘welcome back’ tweet, the door bell sounded. a soft ring splitting through the silence of the house… he was here.

eagerly you jumped from the couch, nerves buzzing under your skin as you quickly checked your reflection in the mirror opposite you. in attempt to steady yourself, you took a deep breath before heading for the door.

there he stood, ever so casually as the warm glow of the outdoor lights located on your front lawn illuminated his features, highlighting the smirk that tugged at his lips.

“hey,” his voice was low, almost a whisper, but laced thick with confidence.

for a moment, your head leaned against the doorframe, giving you a second to admire the man in front of you — piercing eyes, hair falling across his forehead causing a slight blush to creep on your cheeks. then, without another word, you stepped aside, a silent gesture of invitation.

before allowing himself to venture further into the house, he removed his trainers and placed the by the door. his small action of politeness caused you to smile.

your camera roll (the next morning)

a/n: rn i’m onto part 5 and have only published part 1… anyways, thoughts?

added in a link to the song 😉😉😉

i’m also like why did i make sarah famous pls, but i just wanted fans to comment… anyways if we don’t hear from sarahupdates for a while it’s bc y/n and rafe are my focus!

taglist: @my-name-is-baby

(let me know if you want to be added!)

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

Chapter 2 : A New Reset, An Old Story.

Warning: low qual english + corny/cringey usage of it, lots of cursing, emotional stuff, weird hallucinations, bad editing I guess?, was someone there before?, Can someone pick me up? MC is being weird.

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How do you act when you feel like your day keeps repeating?.

Would you be content? to just go with the flow? to memorize each of your steps, actions or words?

Or, would you go crazy? lose you mind and sanity? to see red dancing on the edge of your eyes if you keep remembering the shit that keeps happening to you?

I would, especially if you went through what I did, all effort I did just gone with one bullet from a gun, from a high fall, a sword, a very bad day, or maybe even a freak accident.

Gripping my seatbelt I wait for Commissioner Gordon to open the car's door and let me out, stepping out of the police car with it's siren and lights off, I stand on the graveled road that leads to the stone steps of the old and dark mansion I knew too well.

A little scribbles pops in my vision roughly crossing the mansion as if it's giving it an evil and snarling look of a giant man eating beast.

The older man gently stir me up to the porch and I watch as he ring the doorbell - The tiny mean words and drawings floating around flew away from the sound - on the side of the giant doors as we wait for anyone to answer.

Tensing when I heard someone's familiar shoes thudding on the otherside of the closed entrance, I step back as I grabbed Gordon's coat and braced myself to put up a new face again.

'By now Alfred should open the doors and be surprised to meet us'. a little tiny voice said by my ear as they hide behind my back- peeking over my shoulder as if they were scared even though their not the one confronting them anyway.

As soon as they're guess was right, I observe the old event unfolding in front of me seeing Gordon hand Alfred a manila folder and show him what I knew was my DNA test and citizen papers and profile inside.

I stare blankly at Alfred who looked at me with slight pity and worry after he heard that Gordon personally escorted me here because I was supposed to be relocated to my biological father custody more than a few months ago.

'Would have prefer to stay there as well but the broody asshole insisted before and got my hopes up just to go back to becoming #1 fucked up dad on my list'

'Yeah! he's such an asshole!' The voice pipe up with a snort and a laugh while leaning on my shoulder.

I look back to Commissioner Gordon one last time as he drove off as I sadly wave goodbye from the door before side eyeing the butler who was already watching me.

"Would you like some tea young master?". He kneels down and hold out a hand to me.

I stare at his face as I see glimpse of scratches around the air and scribbles on his face - a crude lines to circle around his only slightly older look - a wobbly arrow to point at the small cracks of wrinkles on the edge of his eyes and a small older doodle of him from my old memories comparing his age before a glitching of halo and devil horns floated above his head.

Blinking two times suddenly everything turned back to normal as I look at him again properly and I study his white gloved hand before grabbing it in a practiced motion as I keep on with the old scrip that I memorize long ago.

Walking close to him I follow as we pass long dark hallways that was only illuminated the flashing of lightning during the current storm and a few dark oakwood doors each one seemed taller and more menacing than the last before entering a fairly large kitchen that I grew to love and spent most of my time in.

He led me to an kitchen island with a marbled top so shiny I see my face's reflection clearly along with a few stool chair with actual leather covers and I carefully climb before proceeding to watch him prepare me a tea and some of his prized cookies.

While waiting I got lost in my thoughts as I re-assess on what to do in this reset.

'What do I do now? does it even matter?'

'Do we even matter?' the small voice questioned in my ear.

I remember the times I try to use the past knowledge I have to get closer to them but........

'nothing really works for us anyway' again they lean in my shoulder and reply with a whisper.

No matter how hard I try, everything I sacrificed, anything I do nothing happens, sure there were some........... progress but I always get cut off by another death.

'We're just born to do this shit all over again' they spit out now with more anger in their voice with sharp nails digging on my skin.

If nothing else works then.......

Looking down at my bandage hand filled with little doodles from the other children in the orphanage and some cute yet old sticky cartoon bandaids, I relaxed my small hands on the flat marbled surface and breathe out.

I got nothing to lose, 2790 resets made me understand how dumb and starved I am for attention and love.

'So hungry and leaving us Starving-!' They groan and wail in pain before vanishing away.

Snapping my head up I see Alfred gently pushing a nice steaming cup of tea in front of me as well as some cookies on a plate.

I slowly reach out and take the cup before blowing on the warm tea I took a tiny sip and relish the hidden memories that this tea have brought me.

As I stare at my reflection I see it ripples as my hands shake and my body soon followed as I sniffled and hiccup, Alfred the ever gentleman that he is carefully took a hold of the tea cup as I cry finally cry out.

I cry till my eyes are puffy, I cry as let all the pain I have endured for so long, I cry out and childishly try to wipe off my snot as I asked for my mother to come back.

I cry because

I can.

--- ✧✦✧ ---

After finishing my tea and the cookies Alfred asked me if I wanted to wait for 'my father' before I go to my 'new' bedroom.

'They' shook their head and blared a large rough 'X' in the air.

"No,...... it's fine maybe tomorrow". I said looking down before turning up to Alfred and set my plan in motion.

"Mr. Alfred?". I asked as I gently tugged on his slacks making him look down to me.

"Yes young master?". He angles down to me as he put away the dried dishes.

I see 'their' wide and sharky smile behind Alfred's shoulder before going away.

"Can I stay with you?". I asked tightening my hold on him.

'From now on, nothing else matters except you.........If we can't get a family out of this shitty one then We'll make a new one' They murmur down while twirling a small baby hair on my nape.

But first-

We'll have to prepare for a little reunion.

✧✦✧✦✧

✧✦✧✦✧

U I A U I A A U U I I A

Taglist later because I'm now entertaining food coma bleh *dies*

[movingmusically]

Author’s Note:

This is probably as close as I’ll ever get to writing Feyd, I thought I’d use this request as my opening. Pairing is Austin x actress!girlfriend.

Word Count: 9,032

Masterlist

Feyd’s Darling

You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder, taking a steadying breath as you step into the sleek black SUV waiting to take you to the studio. The small cameo you’ve agreed to shoot today isn’t like the roles you’re used to. You’ve built your career playing complicated, deeply layered characters that demand weeks of preparation. But this? This was something entirely different.

You weren’t here for the role itself. Playing one of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s Harpies—a voiceless, eerie presence in a pivotal scene—wasn’t what had drawn you to the set of Dune: Part 2. No, you’d agreed to this for one reason.

Austin.

It had been months since you’d last seen him. Between his rigorous training and rehearsals for Dune and your own shooting schedule overseas, time together had become scarce. You’d been surviving on stolen moments over FaceTime—late-night conversations where he’d look impossibly tired but still manage to make you laugh, and texts exchanged in the middle of the night when one of you was just waking up, and the other was finally going to sleep.

But today, for the first time in what felt like forever, you’d get to see him. In person.

The thought makes you smile as the car weaves through traffic. Austin had been dropping hints about how much work he’d put into the role—his training regimen, the diet, the months of preparation to embody Feyd. He’d downplayed it, of course, but you could hear the pride in his voice.

You’d also seen glimpses of the transformation in those FaceTime calls—the way his posture had straightened, the sharper angles of his jaw, the quiet intensity that crept into his eyes when he talked about the character. He’d joked about being “a total monk” while preparing for the role, but you knew how much it meant to him. And now, you were about to see the results of that hard work up close.

You glance down at your phone, re-reading his last message for what feels like the hundredth time:

Can’t wait to see you, Harpy. Don’t let me distract you too much. ;)

The nickname makes you laugh softly. It had started as a joke after Denis Villeneuve—Denis Villeneuve!—had suggested you for the cameo. You’d almost turned it down because of scheduling conflicts, but the idea of working with Austin on something this big, even for just one scene, had been impossible to resist.

You catch your reflection in the car window and smooth your hair. It’s not every day you step onto a set like this—not as yourself, at least. This wasn’t your project. This was his. You weren’t here to command the spotlight. You were here to be a part of something bigger. And for once, you didn’t mind.

As the SUV pulls up to the studio gates, your heart flutters. The driver rolls through security, and you sit up a little straighter, anticipation thrumming through you. It’s ridiculous, you think. You’ve been with Austin for years. You’ve shared countless moments more intimate than this. And yet, the thought of seeing him here, in his element, makes your pulse race.

The car slows to a stop, and you push your sunglasses up into your hair before stepping out. The familiar scent of a busy set—dry, metallic air tinged with the faint smell of latex—hits you immediately. Around you, assistants dart back and forth with costumes and props, crew members shout directions over the hum of machinery, and towering set pieces loom in the distance like alien monoliths.

Your eyes scan the chaos, searching for him. And then, you see him.

Austin.

He’s walking across the lot in a dark hoodie and sweatpants, the hood down, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he talks with an assistant. Even from a distance, you can feel the quiet confidence in his stride, the subtle shift in him that had started months ago when he first began preparing for this role.

As if sensing your gaze, he glances up—and freezes.

The grin that spreads across his face is immediate and infectious. He starts toward you, his pace quickening until he’s practically jogging, weaving around crew members and equipment.

“Hey,” he says, his voice warm and familiar, tinged with the kind of relief that only months of separation can bring.

“Hey yourself,” you reply, grinning as he reaches you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

The first thing you notice is the heat of him, the way his body feels solid, firm against yours. It’s not just the closeness you’d missed—it’s the way he’s changed. His chest is broader, his arms stronger, and you can feel the sheer strength of him as he holds you like he doesn’t want to let go.

Before you can say anything else, he dips his head, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s soft and sweet but lingers just enough to make your heart race.

“You made it,” he murmurs, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Of course I did,” you reply, your hands resting on his chest as you take him in. Up close, the subtle changes in him are even more obvious—the sharper lines of his jaw, the faint shadows under his eyes that speak to how hard he’s been working. “You look…”

“Different?” he finishes with a crooked grin.

You laugh. “Yeah. Different.” Your hands slide down to his arms, squeezing gently. “Have you been hiding these from me, or did this just happen overnight?”

His laugh is low and bashful, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s been a lot of work, but… it’s been worth it. Honestly, I’ve enjoyed it more than I thought I would.”

You smile, your hands still resting on his arms. “That’s because you don’t know how to do anything halfway. You’ve been obsessed with this since day one.”

One of the assistants calls his name, gesturing toward the makeup trailer. Austin glances over, then back at you, his hand lingering on your waist.

“I gotta go,” he says, his voice tinged with regret. “But we’ll talk later, yeah? Between takes.”

You nod, smiling. “Go. I’ll see you on set, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.”

He groans, backing away with a grin. “Stop with the titles. I don’t need an even bigger ego.”

As he disappears into the trailer, you let out a slow breath, your heart still fluttering. It’s only the beginning of the day, but already, you can feel it—it’s going to be one you’ll never forget.

After Austin heads off, you’re guided toward the makeup trailer by a friendly assistant. It’s bustling with activity, prosthetic pieces laid out like delicate artefacts on metal trays, airbrush machines hissing softly in the background. You take it all in with quiet fascination. As seasoned as you are in the industry, it never stops being surreal to see these massive productions come to life.

A makeup artist greets you with a warm smile. “Right on time. We’ve got everything set up for you.” You nod, slipping into the chair they gesture toward.

The makeup process takes far longer than you anticipated. You sit patiently as the team works around you, transforming every inch of your face and head into something alien and terrifying.

It starts with the bald cap—a delicate, almost surgical process that requires precise glue application and hours of smoothing to make it seamless. One artist carefully stretches the material over your hairline while another paints and blends until it looks like your skin. The sensation is strange and a little claustrophobic, but you’ve been through similar transformations before. You know the end result will be worth it.

“How’s it looking?” you ask, glancing in the mirror halfway through.

“Still human,” the lead artist jokes, not even pausing as they work. “But don’t worry, we’ll fix that soon.”

After the bald cap is finished, they move on to your skin. Airbrushes hum softly as they pale your complexion, giving it an unnatural, ghostly tone. Every inch of you, from your jawline to the exposed parts of your arms and shoulders, is meticulously blended to match.

Then come the details—the black, predatory contacts that make your irises look soulless, and the finishing touch: the black dental inserts.

The assistant holding them out gives you an apologetic smile. “These are going to feel weird, but you’ll get used to them.”

You slide the inserts into your mouth, testing the fit. The sharp metallic taste is immediate, and you can’t help but grimace when you flash a grin at the mirror. Your teeth are pitch black, turning your smile into something sinister.

“Yikes,” you mutter, leaning closer to inspect. “I look like I crawled out of someone’s nightmare.”

“Perfect,” the makeup artist says with a grin. “That’s exactly what we’re going for.”

The final piece is the costume, which you’re guided into with the help of the wardrobe team. The sleek black leather clings to your body like a second skin, the high collar and sharp lines giving you a distinctly otherworldly edge. It’s tight—so tight that even breathing feels measured—but the effect is undeniable.

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the full-length mirror, it almost doesn’t feel real. You tilt your head, trying to reconcile the figure staring back at you with the person who stepped into the trailer hours ago.

“You ready?” one of the wardrobe assistants asks, adjusting a strap on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you say softly, taking one last look before turning to the door. “Let’s do this.”

The set is already alive with activity when you step out. The metallic hum of machinery mixes with the low murmur of voices, and the air is heavy with the scent of paint and latex. Crew members move purposefully around towering Harkonnen set pieces, their dark, industrial design making the atmosphere feel even more claustrophobic.

You clutch the edges of your robe closer to your body, the leather of your Harpy costume beneath sticking uncomfortably to your skin. The tightness of the ensemble, the black teeth, the bald cap—it’s all doing its job a little too well. You already feel like a stranger in your own skin, which you suppose is the point.

“Looking good, Harpy,” one of the crew members quips as they pass by, giving you an approving nod.

You smile politely, but your attention is drawn to the massive table at the centre of the room. This will be the focal point of the scene—a dark, sinister slab surrounded by smaller props that look like they belong in an alien torture chamber. A few assistants bustle around it, carefully setting up what appears to be ceremonial knives and goblets.

Before you can take another step, you hear the sound of a door opening behind you. The quiet hum of the set is broken as someone steps inside, and you know, even before you turn around, that it’s him.

“Austin’s here!” one of the assistants announces, and the energy in the room shifts slightly as everyone turns to greet him.

You turn, and there he is.

He’s wearing a simple black robe that hangs open just enough to hint at the body beneath. The bald cap, perfectly blended, makes his already sharp features look even more defined, and his posture—straight, confident, almost regal—is unmistakably Feyd.

But it’s his eyes that catch you. Even as he exchanges pleasantries with the crew, his gaze finds yours, and for a moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room.

He crosses the set toward you, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, well,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “If it isn’t my favourite pet.”

You smirk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Nice robe. You make that look work for you?”

He chuckles, glancing down at himself. “You tell me.” His grin widens, his eyes sweeping over you in your full Harpy transformation. “You look… amazing. Creepy, but amazing.”

“You’re one to talk,” you shoot back, tilting your head toward him. “I think you’ve got me beat in the creepy department.”

“Good,” he says, his tone playful but carrying just a hint of Feyd’s menace. “I wouldn’t want anyone stealing my spotlight.”

“Trust me,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “No one’s stealing anything from you.”

Before either of you can say more, a familiar voice calls out across the room.

“Ah, there’s my pair of troublemakers!”

You both turn to see Denis Villeneuve striding toward you, his expression warm but sharp, as if he’s already calculating how to squeeze the perfect shot from the scene.

“Troublemakers?” Austin echoes, smirking. “I’m on my best behaviour, Denis. You know that.”

Denis laughs, shaking his head. “Your best behaviour is still dangerous, my friend.” He turns to you, his eyes flicking over your costume with an approving nod. “And you—fantastic. Exactly what we needed.”

“Thanks,” you say, smiling. “This whole setup is incredible. The design, the atmosphere… it’s amazing to see it all come together.”

Denis waves a hand as if to brush off the compliment, but the pride in his expression is unmistakable. “It’s a team effort,” he says before glancing between you and Austin. “And now it’s your turn to make it sing. Are you two ready?”

Austin glances at you, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “Oh, we’re ready,” he says, his tone low and confident.

Denis nods, clapping his hands once to signal to the crew. “Good. Let’s get everyone into position.”

You’re positioned on the dark, slightly raised mattress in the centre of the set, flanked by the other Harpies. The leather of your costume creaks faintly as you shift into place, finding a pose that feels both regal and predatory. A prop goblet filled with thick, inky liquid rests lightly in your hand, and your black teeth glint as you test the angle of your jaw under the harsh studio lights.

Denis steps forward, adjusting the camera’s angle slightly. “Alright,” he says, his tone calm but authoritative, “we’ll start from the top. Harpies, I need you to feel utterly intoxicated. You’re watching him not as a man, but as a god. And Feyd…” He glances at Austin, who is standing at the centre of the room in his robe, his expression unreadable. “You own this space. No hesitation, no weakness.”

Austin nods, his face hardening as he prepares to shed himself and fully step into Feyd. A makeup assistant approaches, slipping off his robe, and suddenly, the set seems to fall into a collective hush.

He stands there, bare-chested, as the attendants begin applying the jet-black mud to his torso with precise, almost reverent strokes. The paint clings to the hard lines of his muscles, accentuating the strength and sinew he’s worked so hard to build.

Your breath catches slightly, but not just because of how striking he looks—though it’s impossible to ignore. It’s the way he holds himself, every inch of him embodying Feyd as though the character has seeped into his bones. You’ve always known how hard he works, how deeply he commits to every role, but seeing it up close like this… it’s something else entirely.

Every glance, every subtle movement of his body is deliberate, calculated. Even in stillness, he exudes an intensity that fills the room. You can’t help but admire how completely he’s transformed—not just physically, but mentally.

This isn’t Austin anymore. This is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, a creature of cruelty and cunning. Watching him, you realise there’s no trace of the man you know and love in the sharp smirk curling his lips, in the deadly precision with which he handles the blade. It’s almost unsettling, but it only deepens your awe.

“Focus,” you remind yourself, forcing your expression to remain neutral as you slip back into character.

“Action!” Denis calls, his voice ringing out across the set.

Austin moves into place, his bare feet stepping purposefully on the metallic floor. The attendants surround him, their movements graceful but subservient as they smear more mud onto his skin. His gaze is sharp, scanning the room with an almost predatory detachment, before landing on the three of you—his Harpies.

His lips curl into a smirk that’s equal parts seductive and cruel.

“Would you like some fresh meat, my darlings?” he purrs, his voice low and velvety, with just enough menace to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Lungs? A liver? What would you like? I hear they are big today.”

You and the other Harpies exchange subtle glances, your eyes gleaming with an almost feral hunger as you raise your goblets to your lips. The movement is slow, deliberate, meant to convey intoxication rather than haste. You let the thick liquid slide down your throat, suppressing the urge to gag at the bitter taste of the fake drink.

The tension in the room builds as the Weapons Master enters, grovelling before Feyd as he presents the blades. Austin steps forward, taking the white dagger in his hand and running the blade along his tongue in a move so smooth, so unnervingly casual, that even you feel a chill crawl up your spine.

You know this moment is calculated—designed to unsettle—but it’s so flawlessly executed that you forget for a second you’re on a set. You’re not just watching Austin act; you’re witnessing the culmination of months of effort. The discipline, the preparation, the way he’s pushed himself to inhabit this character—it all hits you at once, and you feel a swell of pride so intense it almost distracts you.

But it’s more than pride. It’s a magnetic pull, an overwhelming need to keep watching him. His body, honed to perfection, moves with a deadly grace that makes it impossible to look away. Every muscle, every sharp edge of his frame, tells a story of sacrifice and dedication.

The scene continues, building to the moment when Feyd turns his attention to the attendants. With brutal efficiency, he slices into the first, testing the blade with disturbing ease. As the actress crumples to the ground, clutching her neck, your job is to remain impassive, watching with a detached sort of curiosity.

When he stabs the second attendant in the ribs, over and over, you feel the weight of the scene—the cruelty, the coldness—but it’s tempered by your knowledge of the man behind it. He’s brilliant, you think, your chest tightening. Brilliant, disciplined, and utterly unstoppable.

“Cut!” Denis calls suddenly, and the spell breaks.

The room shifts as people spring into action, assistants rushing forward to reset the props and help the actors reset their positions. Austin steps back, his features softening as he glances at Denis for feedback.

“That was good,” Denis says, stepping forward. “But I want more menace from Feyd. The cruelty is there, but the charm—it’s a little too subtle. Remember, these people worship you. They want to fear you. And Harpies…” He turns to the three of you with a thoughtful smile. “I love the stillness, but I think we can push the intoxication further. Let’s see a little more… hunger.”

You nod, adjusting your position slightly as you exchange a glance with the other actresses.

By the time the cameras roll again, the atmosphere on set feels electric. Austin’s movements are sharper now, his command of the space absolute. Every glance, every shift of his body exudes dominance and danger, and as he delivers his line—

“Would you like some fresh meat, my darlings?”

—you feel a shiver run down your spine, not from fear, but from awe at how fully he’s become Feyd.

The scene flows seamlessly this time. Feyd’s smirk is perfectly calculated, the brutality of his actions balanced by the charisma in his tone. When he stabs the second attendant, the room feels charged, the energy thick and tangible.

As the third attendant trembles, Feyd tilts his head, his expression almost curious as he murmurs, “A notch off balance.”

The Weapons Master visibly quakes, and as Feyd delivers the final, cutting line—“It’s the tip. Should be sharper. See?”—you feel the perfect synchronisation of every element in the room, from the lighting to the acting to the unspoken tension that hangs in the air.

“Cut!” Denis calls, and this time, the applause is immediate.

As the crew begins to clear the set, you stay frozen in place for a moment, your goblet still clutched loosely in your hand. Your heart is pounding, your breaths shallow, and not because of the scene itself. It’s because of him.

Austin moves off to the side, brushing some of the remaining mud from his chest, and you can’t take your eyes off him. The sharp lines of his muscles, the powerful way he moves, the way his body looks like it’s been sculpted out of marble—it all leaves you breathless. But it’s more than that.

It’s the way he’s able to command a room, to hold everyone’s attention with nothing more than a glance or a shift of his tone. It’s the discipline you know he’s poured into this role, the months of preparation that have transformed him into something unrecognisable, yet still him.

You swallow hard, a heat spreading through your chest as you watch him joke quietly with one of the assistants, his easy smile making him seem so at ease despite the weight of the scene he’s just performed.

You feel something deeper than admiration bloom in your chest—something heavier, something that sends your pulse racing as your eyes linger on the curve of his shoulders, the taut muscles of his back.

He glances at you suddenly, catching you staring, and his lips quirk into a subtle, knowing smirk. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes—the flicker of heat, the way they sweep over you briefly—says enough.

The tension coils tighter, a silent promise that you’ll deal with this later, when there’s no one else around.

“Alright,” Denis says, cutting through your thoughts. “Let’s move on to the close-ups. Take five while we reset!”

Austin walks toward you, his smile softening as he steps closer. He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you with those impossibly sharp eyes, his chest still streaked with remnants of black paint.

“You’re staring, Harpy,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to make your breath catch. His smirk deepens as he stands over you, his shadow falling across your body sprawled on the mattress. “Should I be flattered?”

You tilt your head, forcing yourself to stay in character just a little longer. “What can I say? You do make a rather commanding figure.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, somewhere between Feyd’s menace and Austin’s genuine amusement. His gaze sweeps over you, lingering on the gleaming leather of your costume, the sharp lines of your body pressed into the dark mattress. His eyes darken slightly, a flicker of heat passing through them, and the tension between you tightens like a wire.

“Funny,” he says, leaning down until his face is level with yours, his voice dropping into something velvety and teasing. “I was about to say the same thing about you. My perfect little pet.”

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you forget about the dozen or so crew members moving around the set, the cameras, the fact that you’re supposed to be preparing for the next take. It’s just him, towering over you, his voice dripping with that intoxicating mix of Feyd’s menace and Austin’s natural warmth.

“Careful,” you manage to reply, your voice softer than you intended. “You’re going to make me forget which one of us is supposed to be worshipping the other.”

He chuckles, and the sound sends a shiver through you. His fingers brush lightly against the edge of your goblet, his touch deliberate, teasing. “Oh, don’t worry. There’s plenty of time for that later.” His words are a promise, quiet enough that only you can hear them.

Your heart races, your pulse thrumming in your ears as he straightens up, his expression smoothing back into Feyd’s calculated coolness. He lingers for a moment longer, his gaze locking with yours, and then he steps away, moving toward the crew without another word.

You let out a slow, shaky breath, gripping the goblet in your hands as you try to steady yourself. It’s ridiculous, you think, how easily he can undo you with just a few words, a look, a slight shift in tone. But that’s Austin—and right now, it’s Feyd.

You glance toward him as he speaks with Denis, gesturing toward the set pieces with a calm authority that only enhances his commanding presence. He’s in his element, and watching him like this—completely focused, utterly confident—you feel that familiar rush of pride and admiration, mingled with something much deeper.

“Places for close-ups!” someone calls, and the noise of the set begins to rise again as everyone scrambles to reset. You shift on the mattress, falling back into your predatory pose, but your mind is still on him.

The tension between you now feels electric, and you know, without a doubt, that this isn’t over. It’s only a matter of time before you’re alone, and that thought is enough to send a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

For now, you tell yourself, you’ll keep it together. You’re a professional, after all. But as the cameras start rolling again, and Austin steps back into place, you can’t help but let your gaze linger on him just a second too long.

“Cut! That’s a wrap for this scene,” Denis calls out, his voice cutting through the hum of the set. “Fantastic work, everyone.”

The relief on set is palpable as the crew begins dismantling the setup for the next scene. The assistants start clearing props while Denis reviews the playback with the camera operators. You stay seated on the mattress for a moment, stretching your legs out and rolling your neck, trying to shake off the stiffness that comes with hours of holding predatory poses.

Austin approaches, still partially smeared with remnants of the black mud. He wipes at his chest absently with a towel handed to him by an assistant, though it does little to remove the dark streaks. Despite the intensity of the scene, he’s grinning, that boyish charm slipping through the cracks of Feyd’s menace.

“Not bad for a bunch of creepy Harpies,” he says, glancing between you and the other actresses. His voice is light, but his gaze lingers on you, softening slightly.

“Not bad for a sadistic na-Baron either,” you reply, smirking up at him as you shift on the mattress. “I think Denis might actually keep you around.”

Austin huffs a laugh, reaching up to scratch at the edge of his bald cap. “High praise. Should I be flattered?”

Before you can reply, Denis himself appears, his expression a mix of satisfaction and his usual sharp focus. “Austin, you were brilliant,” he says, gesturing animatedly. “The menace, the presence—it’s exactly what we needed. You owned the scene.”

Austin grins, brushing a hand over the back of his neck. “Thanks, Denis. Means a lot.”

Denis turns to you, his gaze appraising but warm. “And you…” He points at you, nodding in approval. “Exactly what I wanted from the Harpies. Controlled, predatory, but magnetic. You brought a presence to the scene that elevated everything.”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling as you push yourself up from the mattress. “This whole setup made it easy to slip into character. I mean, how could I not be terrifying in this costume?”

Denis chuckles, glancing briefly at your leather ensemble. “True. But it’s more than the costume. You both brought something special to this. This scene—it’s going to stand out. I can feel it.”

You glance at Austin, catching the flicker of pride in his eyes as Denis continues. For a moment, it feels like the three of you are the only ones in the room, the noise of the crew fading into the background.

“Well,” Denis says, clapping Austin on the shoulder before turning to you with a nod, “you’ve earned your break. Go get out of those costumes, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

You’re back in the makeup trailer, sitting side by side with Austin as the team carefully removes the layers of prosthetics, paint, and black inserts. The atmosphere in the trailer is quieter now, a calm after the storm of filming.

You lean back in your chair, closing your eyes as the lead makeup artist gently peels the bald cap from your scalp. “I’ll never get used to how weird this feels,” you mutter, earning a chuckle from Austin beside you.

“Think of it as a free facial,” he jokes, his voice lighter now that the day’s intensity is behind him.

You turn your head slightly to glance at him, watching as one of the assistants wipes away the remnants of the black mud from his chest. Even out of character, there’s something commanding about the way he carries himself, something magnetic that keeps your eyes locked on him.

“You still have paint in the cracks of your abs,” you tease, pointing at the streaks the assistant is struggling to remove.

He looks down, grinning. “Occupational hazard. I’ll just tell people it’s part of my skincare routine.”

You laugh, shaking your head as the assistant works on removing the black contacts from your eyes. Once they’re gone, his familiar blue gaze locks onto yours, and the soft warmth there makes your heart skip.

“You looked amazing out there,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, meant just for you.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” you reply, smiling as your cheeks heat under his gaze.

He leans back in his chair, his grin lazy. “Not bad, huh? That’s all I get after transforming into a sadistic space lord?”

You shrug playfully, tilting your head. “Well, I guess I’ll give you some bonus points for the tongue-on-blade move. Very creepy.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something more. “Creepy was the goal.”

The makeup artist interrupts with a laugh. “Alright, you two, stop flirting, or we’ll never get this done.”

You and Austin share a conspiratorial look, but you stay quiet, letting the team finish the process. It’s not until the last remnants of paint and prosthetics are gone that you finally feel like yourself again, though the tight leather of your costume reminds you the day isn’t over yet.

By the time you’re both out of makeup and back in your casual clothes, the set has mostly cleared out. The towering Harkonnen structures seem less menacing now under the dimmed studio lights, and the hum of activity has died down to a quiet murmur.

Austin waits for you by the door, his hoodie pulled back over his head, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder. “Ready to get out of here?” he asks, his voice low, his smile soft and inviting.

“Absolutely,” you reply, stepping up beside him. The weight of the day seems to lift as you fall into step together, the tension from earlier still humming faintly between you.

The night air is cool as you step outside, the city lights casting a soft glow over the lot. Austin’s hand brushes against yours, a subtle, fleeting touch that sends a thrill through you. He glances down at you, his smirk returning.

“Crazy day,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.

“Crazy,” you agree, tilting your head to look up at him. “But worth it.”

He nods, his expression softening as his hand finally finds yours, his fingers curling around yours with an easy familiarity. “Thanks for being here,” he says quietly. “It meant a lot. Having you on set, seeing you there…”

You squeeze his hand, your voice warm. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Watching you work like that… it’s inspiring, Austin. You were incredible today.”

His smile is small but genuine, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles as you walk side by side. “Hearing that from you… means everything,” he murmurs. “I mean, I know I put the work in, but seeing you out there, knowing you were watching… it made me want to give it everything.”

You glance up at him, the raw honesty in his voice making your chest tighten. You stop walking, tugging his hand slightly to make him pause. The lot is quiet now, only the faint hum of distant conversations and the occasional clatter of equipment breaking the silence.

“You always give it everything,” you say, your voice soft but firm. “That’s one of the things I love most about you. You don’t know how to do anything halfway.”

His lips curve into a small, almost shy smile, his free hand coming up to rest lightly on your waist. “I guess I just want to be someone you’re proud of.”

You take a step closer, letting your hand rest on his chest, where you can feel the steady beat of his heart. “You already are.”

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The tension from earlier lingers in the air, but now it feels softer, warmer—less like a coiled spring and more like a quiet promise. His eyes search yours, and you can see the weight of the day melting away, replaced by something tender and unspoken.

Austin holds your gaze for a long moment before he exhales softly, the tension easing into something quieter. He leans in to press a kiss to your forehead—simple, gentle, and lingering—before murmuring, “Let’s get out of here.”

You nod, your chest tight, and fall back into step beside him as the two of you walk toward the waiting car. The driver holds the door open, and Austin gestures for you to climb in first before sliding in after you. The interior of the car is warm and quiet, a sharp contrast to the cool night air, and as the door shuts, it feels like the rest of the world finally falls away.

The city blurs by outside the window, the lights streaking like lazy stars. For the first few minutes, neither of you says anything—there’s no need to fill the silence. Austin shifts beside you, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, thumb tracing soft circles through your jeans. It’s an absent, familiar touch, but it still sends warmth pooling in your chest, spreading outward.

“You okay?” he asks softly, breaking the silence. His voice is low, rougher around the edges after the long day.

“Yeah, just thinking,” you reply, turning your head to look at him. “About how much I missed this. Missed you.”

He lifts his hand from your thigh to lace his fingers with yours, bringing your joined hands up to his lips. “I missed you too,” he admits, squeezing your hand. “More than I even realised.”

The car slows as it approaches the building where Austin’s been staying during filming—an unassuming apartment building tucked away from the busier parts of the city. Austin thanks the driver quietly before stepping out, reaching back to offer you his hand.

“Come on,” he says, the faint smirk tugging at his lips softening the invitation.

You take his hand, following him out of the car and into the cool night air. The building is silent as you step inside, your footsteps echoing faintly off the marble floors. Austin leads you to the elevator, his hand never leaving yours, and the moment the doors slide shut, you both exhale at the same time, as though you’ve been holding your breath all day.

The quiet hum of the elevator fills the space as you step inside, the doors sliding shut with a soft hiss. Austin presses the button for his floor, leaning back against the wall, his hood pushed back, revealing his now-messy hair and the faint shadows still clinging to his jaw. One hand is in his pocket and the other still holding yours.

Neither of you speaks for a moment. The silence isn’t awkward—it’s heavy in a way that makes your pulse quicken, like you’re both aware of the tension but neither of you wants to break it just yet.

You lean back against the opposite wall, your fingers still tangled loosely with his. Austin’s eyes flick over you, lingering for a beat too long, and when your gaze meets his, you catch the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” you ask softly, your voice breaking the silence.

His head tilts slightly, his blue eyes sharp and steady on you. “Nothing,” he murmurs, though there’s something knowing in his tone. “Just looking.”

You roll your eyes to cover the way your heart stutters, a teasing edge creeping into your voice. “Well, stop it. It’s weird.”

He grins, slow and lazy, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few easy steps. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that the warmth of him wraps around you like a blanket.

“Stop looking at you?” he murmurs, his voice low, almost playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes your breath hitch. “Not a chance.”

Your back presses against the cool wall of the elevator as he raises a hand to rest it lightly against your hip, his thumb brushing just under the hem of your sweatshirt. It’s the gentlest touch, but it sends heat curling through you, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” he continues softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Thought I’d return the favour.”

You open your mouth to reply, but the words catch in your throat when his free hand rises to brush a strand of hair back from your face, his knuckles grazing your cheek. The touch is feather-light, but it’s enough to unravel you completely.

Your voice is barely more than a whisper when you finally speak. “Austin…”

Whatever you were going to say gets swallowed as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, like he’s savouring every second of it. He tilts his head just slightly, deepening it, and his hands slip to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s nothing between you but the hum of the elevator and the thrum of your heartbeat.

It’s not rushed, but it’s not gentle either—there’s a quiet hunger in the way he kisses you, as if the tension that’s been building between you all day is finally snapping, and neither of you wants to stop.

When he pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you’re both breathing a little harder, your hands clinging to the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing keeping you steady.

Before either of you can say anything, the elevator dings softly, the sound startling in the quiet, and the doors slide open behind him. Austin sighs, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he pulls back just enough to glance over his shoulder. “Perfect timing.”

You huff a breathless laugh, trying to collect yourself as he steps back, his hand slipping into yours again. “Saved by the bell.”

“More like delayed,” he mutters, his voice low and teasing as he leads you out of the elevator. You feel his thumb brush over your knuckles as you walk side by side down the quiet hallway, the tension from earlier still humming faintly between you, simmering just beneath the surface.

Austin pauses in front of his door, glancing back at you with that lopsided grin that’s both infuriating and impossible to resist. “You coming in, or are you still thinking about the elevator?”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Just unlock the door, Butler.”

He chuckles softly, turning the key in the lock and pushing the door open, stepping aside so you can walk in first. The apartment is quiet, the faint hum of the city outside muffled by thick walls and drawn curtains. It’s lived-in but simple—warm lights, a couch with a throw casually tossed over the back, and a few stray scripts scattered on the table.

The door clicks shut behind him, and you barely take two steps inside before you feel his presence behind you, his hands slipping onto your waist, warm and steady. Your breath catches as he pulls you back against him, his chest pressed to your spine.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough in a way that sends a shiver down your spine, “I’ve been trying to keep it together all day.”

You turn slightly, just enough to catch his gaze over your shoulder, his eyes darker now, the usual softness replaced by something heavier—something you’d felt building between you since the elevator. “I noticed,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, your pulse racing.

Austin doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else. He turns you to face him in one fluid movement, his hands still firm on your waist as he backs you up slowly until you hit the door. The soft thud reverberates through you, and you’re caged there—him in front of you, the door at your back, and every inch of space between you evaporated.

You look up at him, your breath uneven, your hands instinctively clutching at the front of his hoodie. “Austin—”

“I know,” he cuts you off softly, his forehead brushing against yours as his hands slide from your waist up to cradle your face, thumbs sweeping across your cheekbones. “I missed you too.”

There’s no hesitation this time. He leans in and kisses you, and it’s nothing like the kiss in the elevator. This one is deeper, hungrier, months of separation and stolen glances crashing together all at once. His lips move against yours with a desperate kind of urgency, like he’s trying to make up for every moment you’ve been apart.

You melt into him, your arms winding around his neck as you pull him closer, your fingers threading through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He groans softly against your mouth, the sound low and rough, and it sends heat pooling deep in your stomach.

Austin presses you more firmly against the door, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them tightly as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear. When he breaks the kiss to trail his lips along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, you let out a soft gasp, tilting your head back to give him more access.

“God, I missed this,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with need. “Missed you.”

“Me too,” you manage to breathe out, your heart pounding as you tug him back up to kiss you again, your body arching into his. There’s nothing careful or hesitant about the way he kisses you now. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming, and you don’t care about the door pressing into your back or how your clothes feel stifling when his body is so close to yours.

One of his hands moves beneath the hem of your sweatshirt, his fingers brushing against your bare skin, and you shiver at the contact, the heat of his touch searing through you. “You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” he murmurs between kisses, his lips ghosting over yours. “Lying there, looking at me like that…”

You can’t help but smile, breathless, as your fingers tug at the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel him—all of him. “I couldn’t help it. You looked…”

“Hmm?” he hums, his smirk pressing into the corner of your mouth as he pulls back just enough to yank his hoodie and t-shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. “Go on. I looked what?”

Your words falter as you take him in, your gaze sweeping over the broad lines of his chest, the hard planes of muscle you’d only been able to admire from afar earlier. Your hands move instinctively to his skin, splaying out over his chest, your thumbs brushing along the ridges of his abs. He’s warm and solid beneath your touch, and for a moment, you forget how to form words.

His smirk softens into something warmer as he watches you, his hands returning to your waist, his thumbs dipping just beneath the waistband of your jeans. “Speechless?” he teases, his voice low, his lips brushing your temple.

You let out a shaky breath, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Just… appreciating the view.”

Austin chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest, and he dips his head to kiss you again—slower this time, but no less intense. It’s softer now, more deliberate, like he’s taking his time to memorise every brush of your lips against his.

The warmth of his hands grounds you as he starts guiding you away from the door, walking you backward through the dimly lit apartment, his body close enough that every step feels like a challenge to keep moving. When the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, he pauses just long enough to look at you—really look at you—his blue eyes dark, filled with something that makes your pulse stumble.

You reach for him, your hands curling around his shoulders as you pull him closer, but he doesn’t move right away. Instead, he lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jaw with an unexpected gentleness. The contrast between the quiet intensity in his eyes and the raw need lingering in every other part of him leaves you breathless.

“You’re really here,” he murmurs, almost like he’s saying it to himself.

The emotion in his voice twists something in your chest, and you reach up to thread your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to kiss you again—this time harder, like you’re trying to answer every unspoken word in the way your mouth moves against his.

Austin doesn’t hesitate now. His hands slide beneath your sweatshirt, pushing it up as his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. You tug at the hem of his sweatpants as the two of you fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, laughter slipping out between the kisses, only to be swallowed up again as the tension finally snaps, pulling you under.

Austin’s weight presses you into the mattress as your bodies fit together like they were always meant to. His lips never leave your skin, moving from the hollow of your throat to the curve of your shoulder as he pushes your sweatshirt higher, exposing inch after inch of your bare skin to the cool air before removing it completely.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your collarbone, his voice rough and breathless, like he’s barely holding himself together. His hands trace your waist, sliding over your hips with a reverence that sends a shiver through you. It’s not just the way he touches you—it’s the way he looks at you, like he’s trying to memorise every part of you after so much time apart.

“Too many clothes,” you manage to whisper, tugging at the hem of his sweatpants again. The desperation in your voice makes him grin, low and knowing, as he leans back just enough to peel the offending fabric down his hips, leaving him bare. Your gaze drifts lower, and heat flares across your cheeks when you take in the hard, heavy length of him, already straining with need.

“Your turn,” he says, his tone low and teasing as his fingers hook into the waistband of your jeans. He drags them down slowly, watching every inch of your skin as it’s revealed, his eyes dark and hungry. When you’re finally bare beneath him, he takes a slow breath, his gaze sweeping over your body like he doesn’t know where to start.

“You’ve been driving me insane all day,” he mutters, his voice gravelly as he shifts back over you, his body settling between your thighs. “Watching you on set like that, knowing I couldn’t touch you…”

His hands skim up your sides, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just below your ribs, and you gasp softly, your back arching instinctively. Austin catches the sound with his lips, kissing you deeply as his hips press against yours, his arousal hot and heavy where you’re already aching for him.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dark and commanding but still tinged with that familiar warmth that’s all him.

“You,” you breathe, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the hard planes of muscle ripple beneath your touch. “I just want you.”

That’s all he needs to hear. Austin dips his head to kiss you again, slower this time, like he’s savouring the taste of you. His hands roam your body with purpose, mapping every curve, every sensitive spot, until you’re trembling beneath him, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

When his hand slips between your thighs, his touch is gentle at first, teasing, as his fingers brush over your slick heat. “So wet,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice rough and low. “You’ve been like this all day, haven’t you?”

You bite back a whimper, your hips rocking against his hand as he presses a finger into you, slow and deliberate. “Austin—please.”

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he kisses his way down your neck. “I missed hearing you like this,” he murmurs, adding a second finger, his pace steady but relentless as he works you open. “Missed feeling you like this.”

Your body arches, heat pooling low in your stomach as the tension builds, and you grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin. “I need you,” you gasp, your voice breaking as his thumb brushes over your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. “Now, Austin. Please.”

He groans softly, pulling his hand away to position himself between your thighs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. He hesitates for just a moment, his eyes searching yours, dark and tender all at once. “You okay?”

You nod, your breath catching as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I’m perfect.”

That’s all the permission he needs. With one slow, deliberate thrust, he sinks into you, filling you completely. A gasp tears from your throat, and Austin groans, his forehead dropping to yours as he stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice rough and strained. “You feel… so fucking good.”

You tighten your legs around him, urging him to move, and he doesn’t hesitate this time. He pulls back slowly before thrusting into you again, setting a rhythm that’s deep and deliberate, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

Your hands cling to him, your nails dragging down his back as he moves inside you, his pace quickening as the tension builds between you. “Austin,” you gasp, his name a broken whisper as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need as his hips snap against yours, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “I’ve got you, baby.”

The pressure coils tighter and tighter inside you, your body trembling beneath him as his movements grow more urgent, more desperate. His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and pressing in tight, deliberate circles that make you cry out, your back arching off the bed.

“Let go for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want to feel you, baby. Come for me.”

His words push you over the edge. The coil inside you snaps, and pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and shaking as your body clenches around him. Austin groans, his pace faltering as he follows you over the edge, his release spilling into you as he buries himself deep, his body trembling above yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. Your heart is still racing as Austin collapses against you, careful not to put his full weight on you as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his breaths coming hard and fast.

“You okay?” he murmurs, after a while, lifting his head just enough to look at you, his blue eyes soft and searching.

You smile, brushing a hand through his damp hair. “More than okay.”

Austin grins, brushing a strand of hair away from your face as he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, his lips warm and gentle against yours. “Feels like forever,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice filled with quiet sincerity. “Having you here… it’s everything.”

You smile against his mouth, your heart swelling. “I know the feeling.”

Eventually, he rolls to the side, pulling you with him so you’re curled against his chest, his arm draped securely around you. The exhaustion of the day finally starts to settle in, but the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear keep you grounded, safe.

“Don’t let me fall asleep yet,” Austin murmurs sleepily, his fingers tracing absent patterns along your back. “I don’t want to waste a second of this.”

You smile against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “I’ll wake you if you do.”

But as his breathing evens out and his hold on you relaxes, you don’t have the heart to keep your promise. For the first time in months, you’re both exactly where you’re meant to be, and you’re not going anywhere.

[burntheedges]

The Hunter

Din Djarin x f!reader | 4.2k | ao3 | masterlist

summary: you were used to seeing all sorts of beings around Daiyu, but a Mandalorian was still unexpected.

a/n: @deathwife happy @pedrostories secret santa! 🧡 I hope you like this fic! I saw "Din" and "cyberpunk" and ran with it. It was fun (let me know how I did with the aesthetic, lol). Thank you to @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing (and keeping me on track).

tags/warnings: bounty hunting, flirting, fluff, canon-typical violence (while bounty hunting, ex. shooting blasters, fighting, etc.), touching, reader is not described but wears black pants, can run and climb and sneak around, set vaguely while Din is still bounty hunting, I played fast and loose with the layout of Daiyu lol

You saw him once before he ever saw you.

Crouched on a ledge well above street level, you watched the crowds ebb and flow below. It was somehow even more crowded than usual, with the new year holiday only a week away. You were in the second-largest marketplace in one of the nicer (but still not nice) neighborhoods on Daiyu. The neon lights from the shops and stalls around you kept you hidden, out of sight behind a sign, almost camouflaged in your matte black clothing. You were alert, looking for someone, when you saw him out of the corner of your eye.

At first you thought it was just something shiny that caught your attention. You turned your head slightly to look closer and found yourself staring at the back of a shiny silver helmet. You blinked. 

A Mandalorian?

You moved silently to the other side of your small ledge, trying to get a better look at him in the crowd. He turned slowly in a circle, obviously scanning the people around him. He didn’t look up at your ledge as you took him in. The neon lights around him reflected off of his extremely shiny armor, painting him in pinks and greens and blues. He was tall and broad, and you tilted your head as you watched him move smoothly through the crowd. You weren’t sure the people around him even noticed how quickly they moved out of his way.

He turned into an alleyway and you moved to follow him without any conscious decision to do so. You scaled the short ladder to your right, jogged lightly over the balcony on the third floor of the neighboring building, and turned the corner.

By the time you got there, he was gone.

…

Two nights later, you were walking slowly through the same market, a few streets over from where you first saw him, when you saw him again.

This time, you caught sight of him in the crowd in front of you. He was moving steadily forwards, helmet turning side to side as he searched the crowd around him again. You wondered who he might be looking for – it wasn’t uncommon for bounties to hide out on Daiyu, after all. 

Your own target would be occupied for at least the next few hours. Without examining the impulse too closely, you shifted your focus to the shiny Mandalorian and started to follow him through the crowd. 

He took his time, you noticed. His steps were unhurried and his scan was thorough. As he led you closer to the eastern edge of the market, you wondered if he even knew where he was headed. 

Daiyu was essentially one big city, but the levels and neighborhoods were often so different from each other that it was like being in many different cities at once. The eastern edge of this market followed a remnant of the planet’s original topography – a river ran along the surface, far, far below where you were now. But the tall, many-storied industrial zone that sat atop the river interrupted the city streets. 

That is, unless you knew how to get through it.

As the Mandalorian approached what basically seemed like a dead-end, you turned and scaled one of the balconies to your right. You settled in about 3 meters back and 4 meters above his head, crouched in a shadow, wondering what he might do next.

He looked to either side, seeming to take in the way the buildings stopped just before the wall, leaving a tiny path along its face. 

And then, to your surprise, he turned and looked straight up at you. You masked your reaction and raised one eyebrow. “Lost, Mando?”

He tilted his head, and the deep voice that came out of the helmet made you shiver. “What makes you say that?”

You shrugged. “Well, you hit a dead end. Where are you headed?”

For a long moment, he just looked at you. You wondered what he saw. Then he shifted his weight. “It was you. The other night in the market.”

You blinked. “Me?”

“Following me.” You scoffed, but he stepped back to scan you up and down. “Looking for me?” 

There was an edge to his voice, and you heard the potential threat underlying the question. You laughed. “Mando, it’s not my fault you’re shiny. How do you sneak anywhere, when you light up like that?” You gestured at his armor, which was still reflecting the neon lights hanging everywhere along the street. 

He didn’t answer your question. “Then why follow me? Again?”

“What, a girl can’t be curious?” You sighed. “My stakeout got a little boring. And you really are very shiny, you know.”

He stared at you, but you noticed some of the tension leave his shoulders. “Go back to your stakeout.”

You stood on the balcony as he turned back towards the wall. “You can’t get through that way.” He looked over his shoulder at you and seemed surprised to find you standing. You dropped down from the balcony as he watched. “You need to go about 10 minutes south,” you pointed to the right, “that entrance is usually less well guarded.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

You shrugged. “Local,” you said, gesturing at yourself. You wondered if he would ask for help, but he started to walk away from you. 

Just before he turned the corner, he looked back again. “Thanks.”

Before you could say anything in response, he was gone. 

…

To your surprise, you didn’t have to wait long to see the mysterious Mandalorian again.

The next night you were loitering outside of a bar (technically, you were sitting and having a drink at the stall across the street, completely blending in with your surroundings), tracking your target inside, when a familiar shiny reflection caught your eye. 

He was lit up in orange and purple, this time, and he was walking straight towards you.

“Mando,” you greeted when he stopped next to your table. “Still on the hunt?”

“As are you.” His voice was even, but it was an interesting observation. You wondered if he was as intrigued by you as you were by him. 

You gestured at the bar across the street, which had a line down the block of people waiting to get in. “On another stakeout.”

He tilted his head and shifted his weight. “Who are you?”

You smiled. “Figured out I’m not a bounty hunter?” When he didn’t answer, you continued, “a bit of a freelancer. I find people. Information. Not like you, though.”

He seemed to think about that for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Thanks for the tip, about the factory.”

“Anytime.”

For a moment you both said nothing as you looked at each other, but you seemed to gather your courage at the same time.

“Mando, d’you–”

“I should–”

You both stopped, and you laughed. “Do you want a drink?”

He shook his head and stook a step back. “I should go.” Before you could respond, he turned and started down the street. You wanted to call after him, but your target surprised you by slipping out of the door across the street before you could think of what to say. You turned your attention back to your job and tried to put your mysterious, shiny Mandalorian out of your mind.

…

You didn’t see him for a couple of days, and as you wrapped up your own case, you figured he must have located his bounty. You put together the data packet for your client and tried not to dwell on the fact that he was probably off planet, already. 

You don’t even know his name.

Sighing, you stood from your desk in your tiny office and decided to treat yourself to your favorite cheap street food, from the stall that was kind of out of the way but always so good. You locked up and headed out.

You weren’t sure why the Mandalorian seemed to fill your thoughts, but you found yourself thinking about him again the entire walk to your dinner. He was obviously fit – those shoulders - but that didn’t change the fact that he was a bounty hunter you barely knew. You didn’t really know him at all.

As you joined the line at the stall, you resolved to put him out of your mind.

Of course, right at that moment you felt a presence fall into step with you. You smiled as you looked to your right, already knowing what you would find.

“Mando,” you greeted, crossing your arms. “Figured you’d be gone by now.”

He made a little huffing noise, and you wondered if you’d just made him laugh.

“Still here.” You moved forward in line and he moved with you. “I…” he trailed off, and you noticed the tension in his arms. Was he nervous? “I could use your help.”

Your eyebrows flew upwards and you knew your shock was written all over your face. “Me? I’m not a bounty hunter.”

He shook his head. “I know. But you’re good. And you know this place.” He gestured at the city around you. “He keeps slipping through my fingers, he clearly knows his way around.”

You took a moment to study him. You wanted to say yes and jump right in, but you reminded yourself you still didn’t know this man. No matter how interesting he seemed. “Alright, Mando. Buy me dinner and we’ll talk.” He tensed, but you smiled. “Don’t worry, Mando. Wait ‘til you see the prices.”

He did, in fact, seem relieved when he saw how cheap the stall was. There was a reason it was so popular.

Dinner in hand, though he refused to get something for himself, you led him around the corner and upwards until you were perched on a half-roof that jutted out from where two buildings had been combined in some sort of wonky construction merger that left just part of the original roof alone. You knew there was no roof access from the inside, so it was a great place to sit if you knew how to get to it otherwise. It was even partially hidden by a large advertisement. He followed, scaling the wall behind you effortlessly.

“Alright,” you said, once you and the Mandalorian had settled into your new surroundings. “What’s the problem?”

He retrieved a bounty puck from a pouch at his waist and turned it on. You noticed how big his hands were in comparison with the puck, but brushed the thought aside. “Bounty’s local – a Twi’lek named Lidar Tas. He knows this place too well, knows just where to hide.”

You nodded. You’d heard of Tas and his gang of mudscuffers. “Never met him, but, well. His name is pretty well-known.”

He nodded. “I’ve heard people talking about him, been chasing him for almost two weeks. Almost had him in the factory, but I swear he went into one of the water chutes on purpose.”

The Mandalorian sounded incredulous, and you couldn’t help but smile. “He probably did. Some of them are kept empty, but you wouldn’t know the schedule or which ones without an in at the factory. Or a local. It’s still dangerous but I can see why he’d go for it, running from you.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I figured. Couldn’t even tell which one he went into, though.”

You hummed sympathetically. “Any idea where he’s going next?”

He nodded, and put away the puck. “He’ll be over in the western market again, for the festival. I was hoping you could help me prepare for whatever escape routes he might take.”

You tilted your head, unable to hold back your question any longer. “Why me?”

He turned toward you slightly. “I can tell you know what you’re doing. That first night, I knew someone was tailing me, but I couldn’t find you. And you clearly know your way around.”

You smiled again, a bit flattered. “Really? Just from that?” 

“I know real skill when I see it.” 

“Alright,” you agreed. “Well, then how do you feel about having a second set of eyes?”

He stiffened. “I can’t–”

But you were already shaking your head. “No payment necessary, Mando. I’m happy to help.”

He moved his head in such a way that you thought he might be frowning. “No, I can pay you a fair share of the bounty. I don’t want to put you in danger.”

You scoffed. “Which one of us knows this place? I’ll be fine. People are used to seeing me, the locals won’t even blink if they do. I promise.” He hesitated, and you smiled again. “Come on, Mando. It’ll be fun.”

He made that small huffing noise again, and you were certain this time it was a laugh. You grinned.

“Alright, but if I tell you to back off, promise you’ll do it? I don’t want you hurt.”

You nodded. That seemed fair, even though you knew you could take care of yourself. In agreement, you settled in to plan.

…

The next night you resolutely ignored the fact that you were putting on the black pants that made your ass look amazing. And the jacket that you knew made you look cool and tough (according to your friends). 

You met up with the Mandalorian well away from the market, and found him leaning against the corner of a repair shop. You smiled, knowing he was trying to be inconspicuous, but he couldn’t hide from the neon lights and the way they reflected off of his armor. 

“You know, he probably saw you coming,” you said, gesturing at his armor. 

He sighed. “He did, early on. Tipped him off.”

“You’re just too shiny, Mando.” You laughed and you swore he must have rolled his eyes at you. 

His helmet tilted as he looked you up and down, and you ignored the heat that rose in your face. “It’s impressive, you know. That you can hide around here as well as you do.”

You shrugged. “The secret is to only wear black, obviously.” You smiled. “Should we get started?” You both knew the plan, and you knew where you’d be as a lookout. He nodded and turned to walk towards the festival. 

“Hey, Mando, wait,” you said. He stopped and turned to look at you. “I just realized, I never told you my name.”

He turned back towards you and regarded you silently for a moment. “I won’t tell you mine.”

This didn’t surprise you. “That’s alright. I can keep calling you Mando.” You told him your name and did not fidget. 

He nodded, once, and repeated it. You tried to hide the way you shivered at the sound. “Let’s go.”

…

You split up as you headed to the market, and soon enough you were in one of your normal perches – a balcony well hidden by a neon sign. It gave you a good vantage point without being too bright, at least from the back. The colors and flashing lights also obscured the fact that you were lurking behind them.

“In position,” Mando murmured over your comm. You’d dug up an old ear piece so you didn’t have to fidget with anything. You realized suddenly that maybe this wasn’t the best choice. HIs voice was deep and gravely and it felt like he was right next to you, speaking lowly into your ear. “No sign yet.”

You shook yourself lightly and cleared your throat. “Nothing here.”

You were both silent for a moment. You forced yourself to scan the crowded street below and do your job.

“Target spotted, moving north past the theater,” his low voice murmured in your ear. You shivered as you turned left to look. Sure enough, Tas was walking with a small group past the theater. He looked strangely carefree for someone who knew he was being hunted by a Mandalorian. Maybe he thought the hunter had given up?

“I see him,” you replied. “He’ll pass me soon.”

The Mandalorian was further up the road to your right, staying out of sight (and away from the neon lights). You knew he had to be using some sort of fancy equipment to spot Tas from so far away. 

Tas and his group stopped, suddenly, and you realized where they were going before they turned. “Mando, Tas must be doing a deal tonight. He’s going inside the casino, just him and one of his lackeys.”

The casino was decorated for the holiday with even brighter lights than normal. The facade was almost obscured by the number of moving lights and shapes. You knew people like Tas used it to do business rather than gamble. Though maybe they did both – you wouldn’t know, as you’d never been inside.

“I’m heading your way,” he replied, and you could hear the crowd on the street in the background. “Do you know where they’d go?”

You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ve never been inside. Kriff, I’m sorry, Mando. I just know there’s a back door down the alley, I’ve had to watch it before.”

For a moment the Mandalorian didn’t respond, and you felt your own disappointment start to roil in your gut. But then he surprised you.

“I don’t want to ask this of you.” His voice was low and apologetic. “I can’t go inside, they’ve seen me. Do you think you can without attracting notice? If it’s too dangerous, tell me.”

You hesitated, thinking about it. There were people streaming in and out of the casino – it was probably crowded for the festival. It should be easy to hide inside, with all those people. 

You’d been silent too long, you realized, when the Mandalorian started to say your name.

“I can do it,” you cut him off. “It’s way more crowded than usual, with all the people here for the festival. No one’ll look twice at me.” You looked down at your outfit and nodded. It could pass, you thought. 

He said your name again. “Only if you’re sure you can stay under the radar. I don’t want–”

But you were already moving. You dropped down into an alley a block over and made your way back to the casino. “I’ll be ok, Mando. I’ll check in soon.”

“Be careful. Don’t take any risks.” You tried not to read into the emotion you could hear in his voice.

It was too late for you to respond as you stepped up to the door. The Bothan working the door looked you up and down and then waved you in, looking bored.

You took a deep breath as you stepped inside.

It was about what you’d expected. Not quite seedy, but not exactly opulent. Everything was lit up in lurid red and purple lights. It was decorated for the festival but that didn’t hide the fact that overall, the place had seen better days. You scanned the room as you walked and headed towards the bar along the south wall.

When you ordered a drink, you let the Mandalorian hear it over the comm. You settled in at the bar and thanked whoever designed the tacky interior for all the mirrors they’d installed above the bar. You scanned the room slowly. There were tables for every gambling game you could name and many you couldn’t. Your eyes caught on a door in the back corner, hidden in shadow. Tas’s lackey was hoving right outside of it.

You let your gaze keep wandering across the mirrors as you brought your drink to your mouth. “Northeast corner. Guy outside the door,” you murmured, barely moving your mouth. You heard a sharp intake of breath.

“The side door?” he sounded out of breath, and you wondered what he was up to.

“Think so,” you agreed, taking another sip. “Right spot.”

“Stay there,” he said, voice firm. “I’m going in.”

You didn’t respond, afraid to distract him. Your mind played you images of the Mandalorian bursting into a room and being outnumbered, and you took a deep breath. He knows what he’s doing. You kept an eye on the door.

The next few minutes were excruciating. You waited, straining to hear anything, but unable to, over the crowd and the ringing of the games.

You didn’t hear anything, but you noticed when the lackey outside the door went suddenly tense. You watched as he turned towards the door and without hesitation, you got up and moved to follow.

The room seemed much larger when you turned, ready to cross it towards the door. There were people in your way, people you had to shove past, and by the time you shouldered and elbowed your way to the other side of the floor the lackey was gone and the door was shut. You eyed it, wondering if you should go through. 

The unmistakable sound of a blaster made the decision for you.

Before you realized you were moving, your hand was on the door and you were yanking it open. You were surprised to find a hallway, rather than a room, but there was only one door at the other end. You ran to it.

You took a deep breath instead of barreling through the second door. You pressed your ear to it, but you didn’t hear anything inside. Easing it open, you found a room full of storage shelves. You heard rustling towards the back. 

Stepping softly, you started to edge around the first shelf. You looked down the row and your heart started racing.

The Mandalorian was at the far end of the room, tying the hands of Lidar Tas. He was surrounded by bodies, all clearly down, except for one man sneaking out from between two shelves about halfway between you and Mando. It was the lackey who had been outside the door.

You froze, but only for a moment.

When the man turned and silently lifted his blaster, you were already there, tackling him to the ground. You knocked the blaster away before he even realized what was happening. By the time you’d knocked him out and looked up at Mando, he was already looking at you. 

You grinned. “Fancy meeting you here.”

He laughed. You could tell, even though you couldn’t hear it.

“You’re alright?” he asked, and you felt your face heat, though you weren’t sure why. 

You nodded. “Just fine. Came when I saw him move, and then heard the blasters.”

He stood and tugged Tas up, throwing the unconscious Twi’lek over his shoulder. You were a bit taken aback at his strength. “I need to get him to my ship. Could you, well. It would be easier if I could get there without going through the crowds.”

“I can help with that.” You smiled as you walked past him to the back door. “Come on, Mando. Where’s your ship?”

You heard a blaster fire, and whirled around. The Mandalorian was already putting his blaster back in its holster, and you realized he’d just shot the man you knocked out. “Mando?” You weren’t exactly sad to see one of Tas’ men dead, but you were a bit surprised.

“He might have seen you,” he said. “I told you, I won’t put you in danger.”

You looked down, trying not to see that as sweet.

“Alright. Come on, Mando.”

Your trip to the shipyard was surprisingly uneventful. Once you arrived, you weren’t sure what to do, so you followed him up the ramp of his ship and watched as he put Tas in carbonite.

You realized, suddenly, that he was going to leave. The disappointment you felt at the realization seemed hugely out of proportion with the short time you’d known him, and yet… your stomach sank, and you bit your lip.

You didn’t want him to go.

He turned from the freezer, and you could see it in the angle of his shoulders. He was about to say goodbye. So you spoke before he could.

“Well, Mando,” you said, aiming for a lighter tone and missing by a mile, “you sure you have to go? It’s been fun, having you around.”

He shifted his weight. “I have to turn him in.” He sounded reluctant, and you felt something like excitement start to build in your chest. Maybe he didn’t want to go yet.

“Of course,” you agreed. “But, you know, it is a holiday. If you wanted to stick around for another night.” You tried not to fidget as you looked at him. He didn’t respond, and as his silence started to stretch, the excitement started to turn to embarrassment. 

You sucked in a sharp breath and started to turn away. “I’ll just–”

Before you could even take a step, there was a gloved hand on your arm. A large, warm hand. You shivered.

“One more night?” he murmured, and you felt him step up behind you. The warmth of his body made you want to lean back into him. He squeezed your arm. 

“Yes,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy your voice sounded.

He stepped even closer, somehow, and his armor brushed your back. You felt him lean towards you and when he spoke, it was like he was whispering in your ear. “With you?” His voice was deep, so deep.

“Yes,” you said again. 

His helmet came to rest against the side of your head and his free arm slipped around your waist. “The helmet stays on.”

You sighed and leaned back into him. You nodded. “Alright.”

“Then lead the way, mesh’la.” 

You grinned and reached down to lace your fingers together. 

...

Three months later your comm pinged while you were on a stakeout. When you looked at the message, you couldn’t help but smile.

Heading your way for a hunt. You in?

...

a/n: happy holidays!

[bubbipond]

Bison had no intention (in the beginning) of being with Kant just as much as Kant/Style had/have no intentions of being with Fadel/Bison. Now this is just my opinion, and in no way, am I trying to be condescending (since I’ve gotten that before when I have made analysis posts). In a general sense, if you are easily defensive, maybe reading people’s opinions is not for you. But if you want to read because you like to read other people’s thoughts, enjoy. ❤️

I am going to use *10 Things as my reference because I think it leans more towards that adaption than it does *Taming. If you haven’t read Taming or watched 10 Things, this may help you understand what a lot of the fandom talks about. For those who have watched or read either of the references for THK we know that the story is that Kat (Fadel) is the impossible sister who will never marry, and that Bianca (Bison) is the sister that everybody wants. In order to get both of his daughter’s married, their father decides to make it a rule that the only way Bianca can get married is if Kat gets married. This leads to the plot of manipulating Kat into being “Tamed” by her love interest in the original text (the movie moves away from this and instead has Patrick love her for who she is).

Going back to Bison, his character reflects that of Bianca; the very popular, beautiful, and wanted little sister (brother). The thing that I think some people are getting wrong about Bison is that he is more of a loverboy than he actually is. In the movie adaption, Bianca has no intention of ever being with Cameron. I’d say she’s not even that into Joey either, just wants the popularity dating him brings. She uses him as a ruse to get Kat to finally date so she can date. In the beginning, she kind of sees Cameron as a cute puppy. Almost like this person that she can manipulate just because she knows they want something from her. She eventually does start to like Cameron, but there are trials that she has to go through to see that. That being said, I don’t think Bison initially wanted to be with Kant. I think much like Bianca he was trying to free himself from what he sees as a lack of freedom and free will.

It’s not that I’m saying he doesn’t want revenge for his parents (he obviously does, but that is seemingly a ruse by “mom” to keep them around). But it is more so that just like Bianca, his brother is an obstacle within itself. The issue here is that he loves his brother (just like Bianca loves Kat) but neither set of siblings truly knows the other. They fight to protect each other, but can’t even do that because how do you protect someone you don’t truly understand? The only person in the reference material who is truly a victim of the plot is Kat (Fadel) as they are the only people in their stories who have genuine feelings for Patrick (Style). At no point is any of it a joke or a game or even a ploy to get what they want. In general, neither Kat nor Fadel are that savvy and both are far too levelheaded to do anything that the other characters do. So when you look at the motivation behind Bison’s attempt at freedom, he has to be far more savvy than anyone around him.

This is because you have to keep in mind that both Bianca and Bison’s goals aren’t to trick or hurt their sibling. They are looking for someone who would love their “difficult” sibling while also getting something in return. Bison didn’t mean for Kant to hire someone to fake like his brother. Just as much as Bianca didn’t ask Cameron to hire someone to fake date her sister. They are both fiercely protective of their older sibling and that is why we constantly see Bison five steps ahead or paying attention to things that even Fadel isn’t. I think what adds to the story is that the stakes are much higher. In 10 Things you have a bunch of high schoolers dealing with pretty high school issues. But in this sense, you have people’s livelihood at stake. So I think it feels like so much more pain is being brought up than in the original media. It’s easier to find fault in Kant, Style, and Bison because we’re watching a bunch of people do pretty terrible things. But I think for this type of story, you have to kind of remove morals because all four are pretty morally gray. None of them are perfect people or, like in the movie, kids.

Anyway, that’s all for me! Bye!

*Taming = Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (play) *10 Things=10 Things I Hate About You (movie adaption of said play).

[angelsdvsts]

"i mean, i guess i'm not opposed to giving you a little bit of payment. . . after all you are willing to drop anything if i need your help," could see it in him that the payment in question didn't require any sort of money, maybe she could pay with the warmth of her mouth. "you think that it'll be a maybe that we'd be able to satisfy one another?" teasing tone drops, clear that the two of them have a ton of sexual tension. a hunger that would probably get the two in some trouble -- to have him completely overpower her and mindlessly fuck her senseless. maybe a little post-nut clarity would have him realizing that ayla would be just another girl in the books. that once he got tired, he was going to throw her aside, but that's when she'd come along and break thing off before it got to that point. amusement twinkles in her hues, lips curving into a soft smile, "oh? and care to share what these needs are? since you know my needs are your needs," leans in closely, the conversation shared was far too imitate for anyone else's ears. "wouldn't you want to know? maybe those biology videos would reflect just how tight. . ." was it rude of her to tease him in this manner? to watch him tick, desperate for her in ways she couldn't imagine? "seeing me in the hallway for five seconds would have me in your mind all day long, no? think that's enough." she playfully pats his shoulder, but secretly maybe she did yearns for him to wait for her in between classes to walk her to the next. his comment causes her to glance down at her chest before chuckling as she looks back up to see his lingering, "definitely, they're actually covered up with a bra today -- that dress, it doesn't require me to wear one." allowing his imaginations to go wild, "maybe a little mouth to mouth would help bring you back to life?" a weird surge rushes through her body at the thought of him being so effected by her. femme shrugs her shoulders, nose crinkling slightly as she glances up at him, "maybe, they just thought your words meant more . . . maybe you said something during the sex that made them believe that you like them. plus, guys aren't really good at articulating how they truly feel -- so i guess i could see why they believe they're being played." a chuckle falls from her lips, "oh -- you're dirty to immediately think about fucking in public. . . especially on the first date, but who says that you aren't going to try when we get back into your car?" if anything, she'd had him do something to her before she did anything to him, as much as she'd love to wrap her lips around him. she's perched so perfectly upon his lap, everything looks so innocent -- except if she got up, he'd need something to conceal the imprint growing. "me? mean? never." she shakes her head, couldn't help the way she giggles as he chases her lips, "i don't think you can handle me, arlo." digits move to cup his features, lips teasingly brushes against his; leaning in closer and just as she was about to give him a kiss, her teeth sunk upon his upper lip before doing the same to the lowers, smoothing it over with her tongue. "mm, sorry got carried away."

"i mean i'd expect a little payment for doing my job, y'know?" although arlo was positive that it was evident that he wasn't speaking about money. he'd prefer ayla to show her gratitude in other ways. "me? well . . . i don't think you'd ever ask me to do something i didn't want or need, so maybe we'll both be satisfying each other?" from their conversation arlo got the distinct impression that she was a girl looking to be unwound, to not have to think for a while and let him take the lead, grab those long locks and take her like she so clearly craved. before ayla he struggled to satiate himself with girls, even if he'd gone balls deep inside of them it never scratched that itch and maybe he was wrong for trying to chase that with so many girls but he'd never tricked them, they'd been down to fuck and have some fun only to turn around a week later and accuse him of being an asshole for not showing up outside their window with a boombox on his arm. none of them made him want a second round, as awful as it might seem arlo couldn't handle another mid fuck. "nope, would never dream of telling you nonsense ayla. 'cause i think that your needs are my needs too", he really hopes none of the other customers or staff members can hear them, "you want that body wrecked, right? that tight little body you have . . . probably tight everywhere else too", and god, what he would give to sink himself into her cunt and make her scream. "oh yeah, seeing you for five seconds in the hallway is really going to do it for me", homme deadpans, shooting her a disbelieving look. she was insane if she believes it would. "prettier than right now?" and because she mentioned them arlo feels it's okay to take a more lingering look at those perky tits, wondering how good they'd look in a skimpy little dress. "you might just kill me before we go out for our date." arlo knew what she was talking about better than most, how something he'd assumed was a simple statement could be made into something completely different and hurtful. "i never wanted to hurt them, seriously, i never did. i was honest about everything, they just . . . i don't know, i don't have a fucking clue." he'd tried to figure it out but couldn't, there were plenty of other guys in their school looking for a relationship, he hadn't been one of them. "oh i'd never fuck you here, princess. they'd ban me from coming back and i love their drinks too much", teases with a low laugh. he respects her stance though, how she's not going to give everything away at the drop of a hat. she makes him sweat, work for it. jaw tightens as she squirms on his lap, soft body rubbing and rolling against his growing bulge. "you've got a mean streak in you, y'know that?" pleasure shoots through him as she nips at his skin, hands flattening against her sides as he leans forward to chase her mouth with his own. "fuck me up then, ayla."

[your-local-simp-writers]

Mistletoe

Word Count: 1456

Warnings: None

Silver the Hedgehog x Fem! Reader

Note- You are mobian, a silly little hedgehog! ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The little town seemed plucked straight out of a snow globe. Rows of quaint timber-framed shops, their rooftops blanketed with snow, lined the cobblestone streets. Wreaths adorned every door, strings of golden lights looped from lampposts, and the scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider wafted through the crisp air. Silver and you strolled side by side, your breath visible in soft puffs as you took in the festive scene.

Silver adjusted his scarf, glancing down at you with a small, content smile. The lights reflected in his emerald eyes, giving him an almost ethereal glow. “This place is amazing,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with awe.

“Isn’t it?” you replied, spinning in a circle to take it all in. “I love how everything feels so alive, like the whole town is celebrating together.”

The two of you wandered toward the bustling Christmas market, a maze of wooden stalls brimming with holiday treasures. Each booth seemed to tell its own story—one sold handmade candles in scents like pine and cinnamon, while another offered colorful woolen scarves and mittens. A nearby vendor was carving tiny figurines out of ice, his skilled hands moving with precision despite the cold.

“Oh, look at that!” you said, tugging Silver toward a stand displaying jars of sparkling snow globes. You picked one up and shook it, watching as tiny flecks of glitter swirled around a miniature village scene inside.

Silver leaned closer to observe, his hand brushing yours as he steadied the globe. “It’s like holding a little piece of this town,” he said softly, his tone filled with wonder.

You grinned, setting the globe back down. “Maybe you should get one, then. A way to remember today.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I think just being here is something I won’t forget.”

Further down the street, the two of you passed a bakery where the windows were fogged with warmth. The display was filled with gingerbread houses, their frosting decorations so detailed they looked like real cottages. The smell of freshly baked pastries made your stomach rumble, and you couldn’t resist pulling Silver inside.

The bakery was cozy and bustling, with shelves lined with loaves of bread, trays of cookies, and steaming pots of hot chocolate. A friendly baker greeted you, offering a tray of free samples. You eagerly grabbed a tiny cinnamon roll, savoring the sweetness as you turned to Silver.

“Try this,” you said, holding one up for him. He hesitated for a moment before leaning down, taking the bite you offered. His eyes widened slightly, and he nodded in approval.

“That’s really good,” he admitted, his cheeks tinting pink—not from the cold, but from the closeness of the moment.

After leaving the bakery, you found yourselves in front of a toy store, its window display filled with plush animals and colorful trains. A group of children pressed their noses against the glass, their laughter ringing through the air.

Silver paused, watching them with a soft smile. “It’s nice, seeing everyone so happy.”

You nodded, slipping your hand into his without thinking. “It really is. It’s like the holidays bring out the best in everyone.”

Your touch startled him, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his warmth a comforting contrast to the chill in the air.

As the evening went on, the two of you explored more shops—a tiny bookstore where the owner’s cat dozed on the counter, a craft store filled with handmade ornaments, and a quaint apothecary selling herbal teas and scented sachets. Each place felt like a treasure trove, and you found yourself drawn to the little details—the soft hum of holiday music in the background, the way the shopkeepers greeted you with warm smiles, and the simple joy of sharing the experience with Silver.

Eventually, as snow began to fall more steadily, the two of you found yourselves walking down a quieter street. “Any idea what you want for Christmas?” Silver asked, glancing down at you with a soft smile. His breath puffed out in visible clouds, and his silver fur seemed to catch the glow of the lights, making him look even more radiant than usual.

You grinned, your breath hitching slightly as you adjusted the scarf wrapped snugly around your neck. “Silver, I can’t tell you that. You have to guess!”

His ears twitched, and he tilted his head in thought. “Guess? How am I supposed to—”

“Imagination, my dear hedgehog!” you interrupted, laughing as you spun on your heels, gesturing dramatically at the market stalls lining the street.

He chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “Alright, fine. Let me think.” His gaze wandered over the nearby shops, his expression growing serious as he genuinely pondered the challenge.

As you walked, the two of you passed a stall selling handcrafted ornaments. You paused, admiring the delicate work—intricate glass figurines of snowflakes, reindeer, and stars, all painted with shimmering colors that caught the light beautifully. Silver noticed your fascination and stepped closer.

“These are incredible,” you murmured, reaching out to gently touch one shaped like a crescent moon. The cold glass felt smooth under your fingertips, and you smiled softly, imagining how it would look on a tree.

Silver watched you with quiet intensity, his green eyes flicking between your expression and the ornament. “Do you want it?” he asked after a moment.

You blinked and turned to him, shaking your head quickly. “Oh, no. I was just looking. It’s beautiful, but I don’t need it.”

He frowned slightly, but before you could protest further, he handed the vendor a few coins and carefully picked up the moon ornament. Turning back to you, he held it out with both hands, his cheeks slightly pink. “Here. I want you to have it.”

Your heart swelled at the gesture, and you hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Silver… Thank you. It’s perfect.”

The two of you continued strolling through the market, the glow of the lanterns and the twinkle of lights making the evening feel almost surreal. Silver seemed to relax as the evening wore on, his usual shyness giving way to a playful curiosity as you explored the stalls.

At one booth, you found a set of carved wooden figurines shaped like little forest animals. Silver picked up a tiny hedgehog, holding it up with a grin. “This one looks just like you.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “And this one must be you,” you said, holding up a sleek silver fox.

“Silver the Fox? I don’t think it has the same ring to it,” he replied, laughing as he put the figurine back.

As the snow began to fall heavier, the two of you ducked into a cozy café at the end of the street. The warmth of the fireplace inside was immediate and soothing, and the scent of cinnamon and cocoa wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. The café was decorated with wreaths and garlands, and a small Christmas tree stood in the corner, its lights twinkling merrily.

You and Silver found a small table near the window, and soon you were both sipping on steaming mugs of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. You sighed contentedly, gazing out at the snow-covered street.

“This is perfect,” you said softly.

Silver nodded, his gaze fixed on you rather than the view outside. “It really is.”

After finishing your drinks, the two of you made your way back outside. The town had grown quieter, but the festive lights still glowed brightly, reflecting off the freshly fallen snow. As you walked down a narrow alley lined with garlands, something caught your eye—a sprig of mistletoe hanging just above you.

You stopped, looking up at it with a sly smile. “Oh, look at that,” you said, pointing.

Silver followed your gaze, his expression shifting from curiosity to sheer panic. “Oh… uh… I mean… th-that’s… um…”

You laughed, stepping closer to him. “What’s the matter, Silver? You’re not afraid of a little tradition, are you?”

“I-I’m not afraid!” he stammered, his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red.

“Well, then?” you teased, tilting your head playfully.

He hesitated, his green eyes darting between you and the mistletoe. You could see his hands fidgeting nervously, his usual confidence completely gone. Smiling softly, you reached up, standing on your tiptoes to gently press a kiss to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Silver.”

He froze, his blush spreading all the way to his ears. “M-Merry Christmas,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Taking his hand once more, you gave it a reassuring squeeze as you continued walking. The snowflakes danced around you, the town’s lights casting a warm glow over everything.

[ppombear]

a/n: Merry Christmas everyone! Here's a Christmas surprise for yall 🤭

Nanami Kento does not know what to think about this.

What your loving husband expected to find when he was back home from another day of work was not a mirror - that’s for sure.

He remembered you mentioning a package coming, a few days ago, but he assumed it was just another haul especially with the year end sales. Never did he imagine a whole mirror which would easily match your eye level.

“Really, love? A mirror?” Kento looks at you for a solid few seconds, wondering what you were up to. But knowing you, it's probably better not knowing…

“Yeah! Isn’t it pretty?” You happily asked him as you continued to marvel at the sight of the mirror, after all, you were genuinely proud of yourself for finding a mirror that fit the aesthetic of the bedroom and having it arrive just days before Christmas - as you planned. “... yes it is, my love.” your husband replied, still slightly suspicious of the purpose of this mirror, but just watching your enthusiasm was enough for him to not think about it too much.

------

So here you were, on the night of 25th December, all spread out and arms holding onto dear life as they cling onto him who was all pressed up on your back. Meanwhile his hands were all over your waist as a support as he thrust deep inside you. And ribbons all discarded to the ground somewhere.

“D-don’t w…we look… ah!… g-good in the m-mirror, l-l…love?” Upon hearing your question, your beloved looks up and man were you a sight to behold. All opened up and exposed to his eyes only.

You were already so sexy to him but something about seeing your reflection and those delicate curves - was definitely something else. Not to mention how well your cunt was taking him. He could see every contraction your pussy makes and that just heightens him even more. He couldn’t help himself, and soon found his long fingers caressing your little clit.

With the mirror, your husband could clearly see the bouncing of your tits and how hard your pink nipples were, begging to be played with. Furthermore, with the additional view, he can’t help but notice how soft your thighs look from his angle.

He just wants to sink his teeth into them and decorate them with his hickeys. Maybe he should do that next? He can just envision the softness of them. Will you push him away from overstimulation? Knowing you, it is a possibility. But does Kento care? No.

And the bugle that would form on your abdomen whenever he thrust deep inside you, was not lost on him. In fact, with the help of the mirror, it was even more obvious. Kento knows he is bigger than average but damn does it look so good in you, Watching your walls squeezing him and cooing him closer to the edge every time - it always never fails to make he thrust even deeper and stronger as you were willingly defenceless against his advancement.

Oh but the best thing for him, was how fucked your face looked like with every hit to your cervix and every flip of your clit. He always knew how erotic it would look but seeing it in the reflection is turning him all too much. That lust filled face was going to be the end of him.

Judging from how much fluids were leaking from your cunt, your beloved knew you were enjoying this as much as he was. “... ngh… e-enjoying this love?” he leaned closer and whispered to your sensitive ears. You barely registered that but when you did, you nodded eagerly - not being able to form words at the moment with how fucked you were.

“G-good..” And just as how your cunt was responding to his thrust, he knew you were close. “...A-about to c…cum, love? C-Cmon, let’s do it… t…together…” He didn’t need an answer from you because he already knew what his wife wanted.

And after a few more thrust, the both of you were coming undone.

While you were coming down from your high, Kento couldn't help but notice - through the reflection, your shared fluids flowing out and onto the soiled mattress below (a solid reminder of the intimate act you two just did). Yet, that image just fueled his needs again and he was regaining his hardness while still being buried deep in you.

"Another round, my love?"

"Of course, dear. M-merry Christmas"

But maybe he does like it...

Do not copy, repost, reupload, modify, translate without my permission

[dsireland86]

The Fourth Day Of Christmas:

Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home)

Tag list:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp @dizzylmwahh @Youlookforultraviolet @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

"Fine! You know what, just go. If you can't handle this anymore, then go." "I never said I can't handle it, Noah. I just said I was tired of dealing with it." "That's the same thing!" "No, it's not!" "Argh! Fuck!"

Noah growled, clenching his fists. They were getting nowhere like this. All he wanted was to come home and love on her, but something had set her off, making her real pissy with him. She lashed out first, causing Noah to lash out and before they knew it, they were in a yelling match, with her threatening to leave.

The glow of the Christmas lights reflected off the large glass window inside their fifth floor apartment. He could see her reflection through the glass, looking scared and worried. He hated this. He hated fighting with her.

"Look, I can't help that my life is crazy, okay. I can't help that the schedules get fucked up the way they do." "No? But Matt can." "So." "So?"

Noah scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"God, you can be such a bitch sometimes, you know that?" "Yeah, well you can be a real dick."

She folded her arms over her chest, sighing. Noah ran a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated, unable to think about anything other than being inside her at the moment. Angry sex was his favorite. He walked over to her and wrapped both hands around her throat, groaning at the moan that escaped her lips.

"Do you like that, princess? When I decide how much you get to breathe," walking her back towards the window and pressing her up against the cold glass until she cried with a gasp. He paused to lick that sensitive spot between her neck and chin, relishing the sound that fell from her lips.

"Tell me," he whispered against the side of her face as his touch lightened. "Yes," she breathed, her voice shaking.

His cock, already hard, twitched against his joggers, forcing him to push up against her harder in order to feel some kind of relief from the friction.

"You feel that? You feel what you do to me?" "Mmmhmm, I feel it," she answered, gripping his biceps.

Noah grazed her lips with his, dragging his tongue across her bottom one making her breath hitch.

"I love you, princess. I love you so fucking much and I'm scared to lose you. I don't want to pressure you ever in making you stay if you don't want to. But," Noah paused looking at her, "I can't let you believe for one damn second that I'm into someone else," he finally said with confidence. Tears glistened in her blue eyes, making them stand out like diamonds.

"God you're so fucking beautiful. You wreck me every time we fight, you know that," he smiled.

Her hands slid up his shoulders to rest at the base of his neck. Her fingers danced over his warm tattooed covered skin, creating goosebumps all over him. Noah watched as she opened and closed her mouth, registering his words with shaky breath. He felt like his heart might burst through his chest, waiting for her response.

"You can't just make me fall in love with you, Noah and then take it all back when you don't feel it at the moment," she whispered.

Noah looked past her, out into the concrete jungle below them. The snow the forecasters had been calling for had begun to fall, creating the most beautiful view he'd seen in a long time.

"Is that what you really think?" he asked, clenching his jaw as he played with the waistband of her pants. "You think I take it back? You think I pretend to love you?"

"Sometimes." "So what does this mean?" "I don't know," she shrugged.

Noah backed away, fearing what he knew was coming.

"I think it means I miss the time when I actually felt like I meant something to you." "You mean everything to me!" "I don't feel it, Noah! I'm not your priority. Your band is. And that's okay. That's probably how it should be." "No," he shook his head, fighting the tears that were coming.

Noah grabbed his hair, watching as she walked away from him into their bedroom. He watched from a distance as she packed her bags without looking at him. He watched her as she cried, knowing her choices were breaking her heart, too.

She came over to him, setting her bags down.

"I still have feelings for you, Noah, and no matter how many times I tell myself I'm better off without you, a part of me just won't let you go. But I have to."

Grabbing her bags, she walked out the front door without looking back.

The party is loud and there's too many people around for Noah to feel comfortable. His palms are sweaty, his knees feel like jelly, and his head is pounding. All he really wants to do is forget about all of this Christmas stuff and go home and be depressed for the remainder of the holiday season. But he can't; he knows this. His friends need him here and they're the only reason he's staying.

Matt convinced Noah that a record label Christmas party might be fun, and maybe he'd get lucky enough to meet someone he could connect with, someone who would help take his mind off the one who walked out on him weeks ago. But Noah wasn't interested in meeting someone else. No one would compare to her.

The snow's falling down. Noah sits on the sofa with a glass of water in hand, lost in the memories of weeks ago as he watches it come down. The city is alive and bright not only with city lights, but Christmas lights of all shapes, sizes and themes as well. They remind him of her and how much she loved going out on Christmas Eve to look at them all; especially in Central Park.

"Dude," Matt says, nudging Noah's foot before sitting down next to him. Noah barely acknowledges him. "Nothing's going to work is it?"

Noah shrugs.

"She took your whole world when she left you, didn't she?"

Noah finally looks at Matt.

"I fucked up, Matt. I didn't fight for her hard enough. I didn't try hard enough. I let her believe that I pretended to love her when in reality, she was the only thing that I loved more than anything. I just didn't know how to show it the right way, and I guess that scared her and made her think the wrong things."

Noah digs his thumb and finger into his eyes, squeezing them shut while trying to keep the tears from falling.

"I just want her back, Matt. I want her to come home."

Matt sits silently next to his friend, wishing there was something he could say that would make everything right again. The room erupts in a loud vocal chorus of "Deck the Halls" as drunk people stagger and laugh, filling the room with happy sounds.

"I know you do," Matt sympathizes. "I remember this time last year, I took her ice skating. Man, watching her face light up with all that happiness made life worth living. It was the best night, Matt."

Matt smiles, nodding his head.

"When you guys came over that night, she made us a hot chocolate bar, complete with marshmallows, whipped cream, and cinnamon. It was awesome." "Oh yeah, that whipped cream went pretty far that night, too." "Wow, oh my god, okay, too much information, dude!"

Matt and Noah laugh, reminiscing about that night twelve months ago. Noah would give anything to have that night with her again.

"She should be here with me," Noah sighs, staring at the lights on the tree and how they shine brightly. "She should be here in my arms."

Things are starting to wind down as Noah gets up to leave. He's had enough and is ready to go home. Saying good night to Matt and Jolly, with Folio and Nicholas nowhere insight, Noah turns to leave, but freezes the moment he does. She's standing there in front of him locked in a serious conversation with some girl he's never met before. Tears are streaming down her face as the girl does her best to comfort her, caressing the side of her arm gently. They hug, smiling at one another as she dries her eyes and nods, right before turning and looking over at him.

Her expression mirrors Noah's and it feels like everything but the two of them has ceased to exist. Noah wants to run to her, scoop her up in his arms and never let her go again. But to his surprise, she beats him to it. Throwing herself into him, she clings to Noah tightly as if her life depends on it. He doesn't hesitate to hug her back, squeezing her until he's sure she can't breathe. Her soft sobs against his chest tell him that she's missed him just as much, if not more than he missed her. 

Noah grabs her face, forcing her to look at him. Her pupils are dilated, wide with emotion, but she's looking at him as if he's put all the stars in the sky and he loves it, it's been too long since she's looked at him like this. Her hands find his, laying over them gently. Noah does what he's been aching to do since she walked out that door that night; he kisses her; slow and hard. When they part, the same old feelings for her return, creating an aching in his body that will only be cured with one thing.

"Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?" she asks, breathing the question over his lips as she lays on his chest.

Noah smiles sweetly, running his hand over her cheek.

"Tell me."

He grabs her ass, pulling her into him, groaning as she starts to grind against him.

"You make me insane, Noah Sebastian," she confesses, dragging her lips down the side of his neck. He sighs, arching his back some as she kisses the spot where his throat sinks behind his chest. "I've thought about murdering every woman I've caught looking at you."

Noah smiles a little, but mostly he's focused on how good her body feels against his.

"Like the one you thought I was into the night you left?"

She rolls over onto her back, covering her face with her hands. Noah sits up, turning to face her as his hands slip back onto her hips, tugging her towards him.

"Hey, look at me," he says, pulling her hands away, just as a tear slides down the corner of her eye. "I get it. I know it can't be easy seeing and listening to what you have to all the time."

Noah takes her hands and pins them above her head as he pushes himself into her sex, knowing that with just the right angle, he can slip right inside her. Kissing her lips, Noah rolls his tongue over hers. Her soft moans make his dick twitch which makes her spread her legs open for him a little bit more.

"I don't want anyone else," he confesses. "Ever."

Noah thrusts himself deep inside her pussy, growling the moment he does. Her sharp gasp and loud cry makes him harder, reaching for her leg and hiking it up higher around his waist. It can't be healthy for his heart to be racing this fast, but there's nothing he can do to stop it, because his heart belongs to her. She controls it.

"Noah, Noah," she cries softly, wrapping her arms around his back and digging her nails into his skin. "Fuck, princess, you're going to be the death or me!"

His pace quickens as he fucks into her deeper, penetrating the walls of the only woman he's every truly loved.

"Just like you're going to be mine," she mutters against his neck. "Tell me you love me, baby," Noah pleads, raising his head and looking at her.

She grabs his face and pulls him into a heated kiss.

"I fucking love you Noah Sebastian," she answers with a smile. "Only me?" "Only you."

She touches his cheek, grinning when she feels him lean into her touch.

"Do you love me?" she asks.

Noah stills inside her, brushing the hair out of her face.

"I'm fucking crazy about you, Princess. I love you more than words could ever say. I love the way you respond to me, the way you want me, the way you love me; I feel it baby, all of it."

Noah begins to move again, this time holding nothing back. He keeps her hands pinned above her with one large hand as he uses the other one on her clit to massage slow, sensual circles

"Oh, god Noah!" she screams, pulling him closer, needing more of him. "Ugh, fuck, you undo me, baby. That's it, pull me closer," Noah cooed. "Noah, don't stop!" "Yeah?" "Yeah," she breathed quickly.

Noah thrusts harder, until her moans of ecstasy fill the apartment the moment her orgasm washes over her, but he doesn't stop. He keeps penetrating her harder no matter how much she screams.

"Fucking, goddamn," Noah yells, quickly pulling out of her and cumming all over her stomach.

Slowly, he releases her hands, climbing off her and rolling over onto his back. Attempting to get up, Noah stops her instantly.

"Stay."

She nods, sinking back into the mattress.

Noah takes his time cleaning her up, gently cleaning in between her legs while showering her thighs with soft kisses. Her giggles mixed with soft moans are music to his ears. "Baby, please, come home," Noah begs, once he’s back to laying on his back with her on his chest. "I already did, Noah," she says quietly, on the verge of sleep. "The moment you took me back into your arms, I knew I was home."

[brodygold]

A Golden Christmas Carol- Part One

A collaborative story among Golden Army management for @goldenherc9! Hope you like it bro! We really appreciate everything you do and wanted to show you in the way we know how.

Captain Scott sat in the shared office, hunched over a stack of documents that demanded his attention before the holiday break. The glow of his desk lamp highlighted the dark circles under his eyes, a stark contrast to the sharp black polo he wore—a symbol of his role in his beloved team.

But lately, Scott felt anything but proud.

It was the holiday season. He had achieved his dream promotion. And he had Logan, the best twin and teammate anyone could ask for. On paper, everything was perfect. Yet, a heavy weight settled on his chest, one that no amount of holiday cheer or team camaraderie could lift.

"Hey, are you doing alright, bro?"

Scott looked up, startled by the familiar voice. Brody stood in the doorway, his expression a mix of concern and brotherly determination.

"It's nothin', brah. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over it eventually..." Scott mumbled, his gaze drifting back to the papers.

"It’s not nothing, Scott. I know I’ve been busy lately getting everything ready for Christmas, but you can always talk to me."

Scott sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. "I know, broski. It’s just... I dunno how to contribute to the team. It feels like I’m just filling the role without actually being the captain. You, Percival, and everyone else make the big decisions, and I’m just tryna keep up. I’m supposed to be Drone Cap 009, but I can’t even—”

Brody cut him off, stepping closer and placing a firm hand on Scott’s shoulder. "Hey, we need you, bro. The team wouldn’t be the same without you. You bring a balance, a perspective none of us have. And we all respect you for it, even if you don’t see it."

Scott gave a half-hearted shrug. "You say that, but it don’t feel like it. Anyway, I gotta go."

Brody frowned but didn’t push further. "Will you at least come to the Christmas party tomorrow? It wouldn’t be the same without you."

Scott hesitated, his eyes darting to the pile of papers on his desk. "I’ll think about it, brah. No promises." He stood, the soft light reflecting off his black polo as he gathered his things and headed out.

When Scott arrived at his small apartment, the familiar silence greeted him. He folded his polo carefully and tucked it away in a drawer, going through the motions of his nightly routine with a heavy heart. Each action felt robotic, void of the joy or purpose he used to feel.

Maybe it was time to leave the team. The thought hung in the air like an unspoken truth, and he couldn’t shake it.

As he climbed into bed, the weight of his doubts pressed down harder. He closed his eyes, willing himself to drift into sleep.

But the world had other plans for Captain Scott.

[demonslayedher]

Yushiro & Takeuchi friendship headcanons

--Takeuchi got through the final battle relatively unscathed, so he is quick to check up on Yushiro in the aftermath. Having just lost Tamayo and still being overwhelmed by everything, Yushiro just wants to hide and be swallowed up by his emotions for a while, so Takeuchi's company was initially unwelcome, but it turns out to be really good for Yushiro and he unloads more than he thought he would. Takeuchi is a little confused and can't put all the pieces together, but he it accepts it pretty readily.

--Takeuchi continues to enforce his friendship and company upon Yushiro, even once Yushiro insists he's fine by himself (with Chachamaru, whom Tamayo especially left to him). Takeuchi can't be dissuaded so Yushiro gives in and lets him hang around.

--If there's one thing Takeuchi knows about demons, it's that they are ravenous for human flesh, so it finds it concerning that Yushiro never seems hungry, so this leads to Yushiro explaining why he's a special case who subsists on small amounts of blood collected in ways that don't harm humans. He doesn't like that he has to consume it at all, though. Takeuchi offers his own blood again; because he was a strong Breath-powered swordsman, consuming his blood would mean Yushiro could subsist on even less blood. Yushiro refuses because he'd rather pay poor people who need the money; Takeuchi has a Corp pension and doesn't need it. (More so, it's because Yushiro would find it too weird to consume the flesh of someone he knows personally.) This is an ongoing bit in their friendship, Takeuchi continuing to offer and Yushiro continually refusing.

--Takeuchi takes up painting (based on a Murata-related headcanon stated in this one-shot about Murata & Giyuu finally getting dinner together), and he's eager to show Yushiro one of his early works. The most beautiful thing he could think to paint was a sunrise, for it was always such a long-awaited moment throughout many battles Takeuchi fought while in the Corp. Then it occurs to him that Yushiro doesn't get to appreciate such a beautiful sight, which is why he wants to give him that painting. Yushiro, too much of a tsundere to accept it, snaps back that no sunrise could ever be as lovely as Tamayo was. Takeuchi, not offended, sadly states that he never saw Tamayo, so he wouldn't know. Now in an awkward position for having snapped at someone who did a nice thing, Yushiro has to follow through and attempt to show Takeuchi what Tamayo looked like by making a painting of her. Yushiro has a natural talent for it, and Takeuchi is stunned and praises his skills, but Yushiro is frustrated by not having managed to capture her beauty or essence. He has to try painting another. And another. And another. And another.

--Since Yushiro has already lived a long time, it's hard to see Takeuchi as an equal at first; he seems like a small child. Little by little, it's like watching Takeuchi grow up. For instance, one night Takeuchi happily announces that he's courting the daughter of an old wisteria house who he was always sweet on, some months later he's heartbroken because she was only dating him out of a lingering obligation to the Corp. Yushiro winds up falling into a lot of self-reflection about how hard it must had always been for Tamayo to see him as anything more than a child, for the gap between them was so large that even feelings as deep and sincere as his own could never overcome it. This is around the time Yushiro starts really accepting the companionship of Takeuchi, Tanjiro, and Kiriya (whom he sees like more of an equal more quickly than he did with others, seeing as Kiriya has experience beyond his years than closes the gap Yushiro feels with others).

--Takeuchi, despite being busy with the never-ending affairs of the human world and eventually raising his own family, always makes sure to pop in on Yushiro, for he knows Yushiro will never go out of his own way to seek company. It has to be forced upon him. Yushiro acts annoyed when Takeuchi visits him, but he is always a gracious host and they spend hours talking together. Chachamaru says hello and accepts some petting from Takeuchi but typically stays on Yushiro's lap. Yushiro doesn't drink it, but he serves Takeuchi black tea in fancy dishes, and they sit around on velvet chairs in a low-lit basement filled with Yushiro's paintings. Takeuchi never stops with his outpourings of praise and wonder for Yushiro's talents.

--Takeuchi brings Yushiro new copies of "The Legend of Zenitsu" so he can laugh and be entertained by Yushiro's scathing reviews of them. Takeuchi doesn't know this, but Zenitsu brought out an inferiority complex Yushiro can't stand to admit even to himself; it drives him mad how Zenitsu could paint Nezuko with such perfection on a first try, and in his defensiveness he insists it's because Zenitsu has the model to look at. Yushiro pulls from years of dedicated observation that has honed his memory, so their works can't even be compared (or at least, that's what he tells himself).

--Takeuchi eventually falls ill, and Yushiro goes out of his way to pay visits to him. Takeuchi tries to stay positive about it, but the frustration of feeling himself get weaker and weaker and his own inescapable mortality do get to him from time to time. He tries to be as brave as the people who didn't survive their battles in the Corp, but it's hard. He jokingly insists that even though he's weak and wouldn't make for an appetizing meal anymore, he wishes Yushiro would just eat him for his own sake now, if it gives Takeuchi some means of living forever. But that's all it is, a joke. Yushiro, having been in Takeuchi's position before, is heartbroken to watch him go through it, but admires Takeuchi for handling it so much more bravely.

--He's not able to say so at first, but eventually Yushiro is able to open up and talk about his own experiences with illness, and how he would never wish it upon anyone, he has no regrets about being a demon, for even without Tamayo, he still has a zest for life.

--It's a long decline, but Yushiro hangs around as a hospice nurse, and especially as a friend. By this time, he and Takeuchi truly feel like equals. After Takeuchi's peaceful passing, Yushiro doesn't really keep in touch with them, but he keeps a special eye on on Takeuchi's descendants.

[cute-little-fly]

Certainly the look of someone that doesn’t feel stomach butterflies for the other because of these gestures. There he is happy he is not mocked for the rats (I think) and the other one because he woke up with a random bunch of horses. His mood waking up surely improved because of that, even if he found it strange. (He doesn’t appreciate them fully yet, but retrospectively he will eventually and rn they work at making him feel better).

Here the scene is all funny but Stolas smiled just after Blitzø tried clothes with him ❤️

Also

A lot of the Stolas behaviour we see later (the bad humor, the crying) here is influenced by the lack of pills. That is communicated visually through this scene:

Followed by:

This is called visual storytelling. Is not a genious thing but it is well done, subtle enough to pass over our heads in a quick first watch (maybe), but that gains relevance in a second watch after the pills having relevance at the end. The pills is something that has been shown a lot of times in all the other episodes too, probably to lead to this and the ending moment.

After this moment is where Stolas completely crashes down, and is more irritable and overly emotional. As someone that dates a person that had depression and now is treated, this characterization even if cartoonish at times is actually very well done. I related too much to it. Also, I can say that a lot of the things Blitzø did actually work. I am sure he took care of an anxious Fizz or his mother had depression. Because he is too good at it.

But, about Stolas, is true he doesn’t trully appreciate all the help he is being given, taking the depression and mood swings aside… as other NORMAL people would do, because he is someone used to have everything granted for him. Literally, served in silver platter.

This is how someone spoiled would act.

For me is admirable how all the IMP crew understands that and doesn’t get mad at Stolas. Blitzø still loves him because is him, he is the most crazy person there and knows how much Stolas loves him. So, honestly doesn’t surprise me as much, he is also familiar with Stolas’s palace and environment and sees that big difference.

They probably understand is a great change for him and where he comes from but it is surely also a great shock for the IMP crew to see those differences. Is also interesting how they set this up in GF. In Ghostfuckers Millie is surprised with the office and says is too much for imps, for Stolas that is for poor people. Ups!

For some of you this makes the show bad, for me it gives depth for each character and where they come from. Is is showing and not telling. A show with this theme of social class and without this kind of conflict and contrasts would be so boring.

For me it would be worse storytelling if someone like him immediately understands everything, and again… Boooring. I think he doesn’t even realize yet that the couch was Blitzø’s bed probably because he always wakes up before. UPS again, more angst for later, because this is a series finale and there is no time for that and only a month has passed. Surely this will create conflict.

But, it will be worth it when Stolas bonds over them over time and see them beyond low-class. Maybe, just maybe he will even be happier once he adjusts… Aaand perhaps, he will need to have treatment too.

The phrase: “you saved me in return” is bitersweet, because Stolas is seeing again the relationship as an exchange. But, is good that he is reflecting that he is the one that 100% caused all of this. A step in the right direction for him.

Some general comments:

1) Helluva boss is far faaar away from perfect, but perfection is not the solely objective of art form, and is not showing how things should be irl, less in an adult cartoon. However, for a comedic cartoon HB is surprisingly deep. Maybe it fails to build up for some people but you just have to adjust that in this show they don’t show some intermediate moments to be able to progress the story more, and have all the characters they have. Is just how it is and for me this is an actual valid criticism of the show because this prevents the engagement of some people. Hopefully with 15 episodes this might improve. Just for you to see that I don’t defend it from everything.

2) Comparing HB to Bojack for me is a mistake even if vivzie is inspired in that show. For me Helluva Boss is about redemption (yes, like Hazbin), and Bojack is nihilistic. HB is about people that can heal even if they think they are not worth it or can’t do it due to their past mistakes. Bojack is about how some people just won’t change and you need to accept that and move on. For me, these two things are true irl. Some people change for the better, some don’t. Bojack changed at the very end, but the people he lost is lost forever and I think he did just because he was in jail without access to drugs. Also, he was given tons of opportunities to mend and he was never able to mend things. Here, is different. A show will always have some overarching themes. Even if the shows are of similar nature their overarching themes are almost opposite.

3) In my humblest opinion, you give the show less credit and choose to ignore a lot of the interesting elements that come from this and only focus and nitpick on the things it lacks… and turns out it will always lack something. Everything always lacks something. I like to be critical on media, but this critical crew make me don’t want to criticize this show as much because you do it more than it needs to be criticized. Of course, I am not saying to you stop doing it. You have all the right to put your post as I have to put mine.

4) Also, I didn’t respond to the post main criticism on big gestures, and the post is long enough, sorry. Sure a lot of people don’t like his rom-com troupe but I actually liked how it was handled in this series, because it helped to Stolas to see that Blitzø trully cares, but at the same time it didn’t solved anything! They still haven’t unpacked anything and the other problems are preventing them to be fully together. Usually in romantic movies these gestures solve everything, here that didn’t happen. Also; the big gesture is something that happened to communicate the other that they love him, just in Stolitz because they were terrible at communicating, and how they failed being a normal couple in everything caused the big gestures to be necessary in the first place.

5) The rest of the couples stand up for the other sometimes, but the gesture is not as important itself to let the other know that they are loved and keep the couple afloat. They actually communicate 😅, and that communication is what keeps the relationship going. The Ozzie and Fizz crooked song and Ozzie’s talk is what gives Fizz the courage to leave his abusive job, not the big gesture. The only gesture that was similar to this one a little bit maybe is when Moxxie presents Millie in unhappy campers, but he does that because he listens to her feelings and Millie constantly shows Moxxie affection, and care and he appreciates. We also see have seen them communicate effectively in other instances, so what is keeping their love strong? Small gestures, communication and care, not them saving each other at difficult situations at work. So ultimately, I feel this big gesture thing only apply to Stolitz… and is mainly because Stolas doesn’t understand love yet and how Blitzø self hatred prevented him to understand Stolas was being truthful. They are a mess and we are not supposed to see how they are as normal, just as them being a complicated and utterly mess because they are like that rn. We like the ship because of that and not ignoring that, and they will be continue to be like that for a while... But eventually Stolas will learn what true love is. The song ending with “Truer love is hard to find” is not true love, but truer. This is foreshadowing that. Blitzø is the truer love, because of all the small every day gestures he gives 🩷, all of this said while Blitzø gently hugs him. Perfect. Chef kiss.

This Show Focuses Too Much On Grand Gestures Rather Than The Little Things When It Comes To Relationships

It's a thing I see in the Sinmas episode where the focus is on Blitzo stepping in to sacrifice him for Stolas that he really becomes grateful and appreciative. It's to show supposedly how he's grown, but in my opinion the little things he did throughout the episode really are the things he should have been focused on rather than the big gesture. The writers still want to focus on Stolitz being this romanticized, ideal couple that they forgot little things like chemistry and small develops between them. However, we never see the same from Stolas to do small good gestures and instead focus on the big gestures, so that we can hammer how nice and self-sacrificing he is despite how much he still comes off as a narcissistic privileged asshole who takes Blitzo for granted.

This quote from Bojack rings true so hard because for a relationship to work you can't rely on grand gestures to hold everything little everyday stuff is the thing that holds it up. And if you think you can hold stuff with grand gestures then your relationship will fall apart. Also those who do grand gestures often do more shitty than regular good things in life, which as he said isn't enough to make up for everything. The problem is Stolas is too much of an ideologue he can't see it and will only value the big things to be truly appreciative. And I fear that will be his downfall in his relationship with Blitzo if rumors are true he will tickle a relationship with Vassago because he craves grand attention instead of one based on small everyday support.